Date   

JP: Rumor Has It #Brandy #Jaya

Steph
 

Who: Jaya, Brandy

With: Other tavern patrons

Where: The Silver Tankard, Merchant's Quarter, King's City, Eventyr

When: Sunday, February 24th 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Another temp job had wrapped up without a permanent job offer, but at least this time Jaya's performance had been rewarded with a big enough bonus to ensure that she could pay her part of the rent at the start of the month, and rent for the month after would be a problem to deal with later. Today's problem was almost definitely going to be securing her room at the Silver Tankard.


It was her room. Jaya paid for it, in full, with money she earned as the Ghost Blade and rewards from the quests she embarked on. Hers. Rightfully so. But in Fantasyland, some legalities just didn't exist. If she wasn't actually in the room--and even sometimes when she made it clear she'd be back same day--the room might be double-booked.


So, she stood at the end of the bar, knuckles rattling over wood as she waited for Brandy to finish up with her other customer. The tavern was packed, probably for the same reason that Jaya had told everyone who'd notice her missing that she was going on a little road trip with someone special, wink. A commoner couldn't be noble, but when the Royal family threw a week-long festival in the King's City, you packed in…


"Finishing up" with a customer only really happened when Brandy received coins. So she chatted and flirted and edged on deep, meaningful connection… until she had a couple of bronze in her hand, and then she found a reason to sashay away. On the move, Brandy managed to find half a dozen greetings, cheek-kisses, or laughs before she settled across the bar from Jaya. A smart, sort-of butch chika - probably dangerous, but not in the way Brandy had to worry about. Settling in with the back of her hand under her chin, Brandy fixed the other woman with a look that ranged from just curious all the way through predatory.


"Jaya, Jaya, Jaya," Brandy cooed, sensuously, as her hand extended to over the other woman's. "You're in early, aren't you?"


Brandy probably made a lot of money as a barmaid, Jaya figured. The way she handled all her patrons with so much attention was magical-adjacent if it wasn't actually magic. (Could bartending be magical? Did it matter either way, if Jaya believed it?) She wished she could command so much attention, though. Maybe she'd manage to land a permanent job.


She stilled her hand and tried to give Brandy a cool, stiff-lipped sort of look, but there were cracks around the edges, a glint of honest amusement in her eyes.


"Should it matter when I arrive, considering my room is paid through at least the next two months?" she asked in return.


"Are you… are you really trying to talk about the room?" Brandy said, feigning an air of being affronted that was totally an act, and one she didn't hide. A hand brushed against her heart and her eyes rolled on up to ceiling. "Do you know how dangerous this city is? I'm just glad to see you're alive. Beautiful young ladies - like yourself - face life and death on a nightly basis," her eyes held a glint of sensuous flirtation, which might not have been inauthentic but also seemed very much like a front. Especially as her tone turned to a whisper: "Not to mention what the dangers get up to…"


Although Jaya put on an air of being completely nonplussed by Brandy's performance, the air was completely undermined by the smile lines that brightened the glint in Jaya's eyes. The whole exchange was novel even in its absurdity. Jaya pressed herself a little more closely to the bar to allow another patron passage behind her, and she tried not to let their movement distract her from her part in this conversation.


"The dangers might get up to putting knives in the vital organs of people who rented out their rooms to other people," Jaya said, though, the words coming to her in one of those witty flashes of inspiration that she got sometimes here on this side of the fairy circles. "I suppose you only have my best interest in mind, though. What do you think we should be talking about, if it's not time to talk about my room yet?"


Brandy's eyes narrowed a bit even as a brow raised - Jaya's words held a serious threat but… again, not the sort of threat that Brandy needed to worry about all too much. So when her threat laid off, Brandy let her expression relax. "Of course I have your best interest in mind. I have all kinds of people who need knives put through vital organs, and when I need to call someone, you are at the top of my list," Brandy said. "So it is in my every interest to keep you happy." You know, short of not double-renting the room that she used half the time anyway.


"So why don't we talk about… how you don't have a drink in your hand - " Brandy said, before she turned away in a fuss to get a mug, fill it with drink, what did Jaya like anyway?, shoo a boy away from her stool. Once the whole procedure was done, Brandy was quite satisfied. "See, you're home!"


Jaya relented to Brandy's cheerful fussing easily enough. When it seemed like everyone on Earth somehow managed to ignore her existence, there was something to be said for being seen and welcomed, even if that welcome was covering for an egregious customer service nightmare. If Brandy would just stop double-booking Jaya's lawfully-paid-for room, this whole exchange would be all the more pleasant.


"Home," Jaya echoed with a sufficiently tall glass of pale ale now in front of her. Fantasy beer was better because the calories didn't count. "What's the news? Were you here eight years ago for the last one of these festivals?"


"Nah, the little prince was already out of diapers by the time I started coming around," Brandy said. It was funny to describe it that way, but Eventyrian time was so very different from Earth's that she had no real concept of what year it was or how long things had been. "But I've never seen the city so beautiful - or so packed."


But she leaned in a bit as her tone lowered, a bit more real. "Truth is, though, for all the festivities… people got problems. Everyone talks a big game about being thrilled for the new baby, but a couple drinks in, and they are calling the king out for magic, treason, witchcraft, you name it. All whispers, you know, but they aren't just blowing hot air."


That turn of phrase, coming around, made Jaya wonder yet again if there was a chance Brandy was also from Earth, but she could just as easily mean that she was from one of the duchies and started living in the King's City four years ago. It just wasn't a question Jaya wanted to ask. Even if her logical mind told her she couldn't be the only Earthling in this strange realm, she sort of hoped and wished she was, that this was her own personalized fantasy experience. That she was special for a change.


No way did she want to pop that bubble. So, instead, she took a swig of her own drink.


"When I met the king, four years ago, he didn't seem like an evil man," Jaya said, focusing in on the rumors. She'd been hearing them, too, almost as long as the Consort had been standing at the King's side. "He'd been dressed all in black, in mourning still for his wife and the missing Crown Princess, but there hadn't been anything sinister about him. One day in Court isn't really a great measure of a man, though. You heard the story about the missing maidens, right?"


"Uh-huuuh," Brandy said, and swiped her eyes about to be sure no one was listening too closely. Most eyes were reddened and glazed over, so she didn't pay them any mind and focused back on Jaya. "And almost everyone I talk to says it's true - I haven't even heard the royal family deny it."


Lowering her head a bit, Brandy raised an eyebrow. "Everyone says it's black magic or whatever, but I don't know how much I buy all that witch talk." Hell, she'd be called a witch if people knew too much about her. "I wonder if he wasn't appeasing his creepy-ass brother, somehow. Like a fucked-up gift of some kind. I doubt the Green Duke doesn't know where those bitch…" Brandy stopped the word halfway through, forcibly, and helped herself to a sip of Jaya's drink as if to wash it down her throat. "Those lovely young women went."


Jaya was no longer surprised by the way that Brandy took a drink from her cup sometimes. She just hoped that Brandy would understand the simple intrinsic fact that every sip also sipped away at the tip. Shifting the blame from the King to the Duke of the Eastern Forest felt easy somehow. The only stories that Jaya heard about that particular noble did not cast him in the best light. She gave a hum and a nod of her head.


"Maybe his weird green armor needs to be polished in the blood of innocent maidens." Jaya said this with a warbling spooky-story voice, smile making it clear she was making a joke. "Have you heard if the Green Duke going to be in the city for the festival? He almost never leaves the Forest, if the stories are true."


Brandy's eyes widened almost comically at Jaya's joke, but… the truth was, it well might not have been far from the truth. Stories said that armor was impenetrable and indestructible - and given how much the Duke wanted for popularity, if this wasn't true, word would have gotten around. She'd been surprised to hear there was some kind of warlord taken up in the East. That wasn't where she would have started making waves. So, nailed it!, Brandy wanted to say, but knew that phrases too Earth-y often went over Eventyrian heads, so she just said, "I think you might have hit the nail on the head."


And smoothly went on, somewhat sardonically, "Oh, aye, he'll be here - although I wouldn't be surprised if he's more interested in seeing that werewolf drawn-and-quartered than in his new nephew."


"Or niece," Jaya added easily. She almost pointed out it would be better to use nibling because she didn't want to assume the unborn child's gender identity, but then that felt too much like a liberal college graduate sort of thing to say, and she was pretty sure it would be interpreted as another word for snack instead of a gender-neutral term for the child of a sibling here in Eventyr. (There were too many things that ate people in Eventyr.)


She did have to agree, though, that the Green Duke seemed in rumor like the kind of person who'd care more about executions than births. And, continuing on that line of logic, she had to wonder. "Considering the castle was built to keep werewolves and zombies out, it seems incredibly unwise for anyone to put a werewolf inside the castle dungeon. Especially with the full moon right around the corner. Doubly especially with a tasty morsel of a pregnant consort due to have a fat noble baby inside the walls."


A saucy smile spread across Brandy's face in agreement. "Should be an interesting week, hm?"


"Should be." Jaya finished the last swig of her drink, set her cup down, and gave Brandy another steady look. "So, my room?"


/End


JP: Of Monsters and Men (Marcus the Vile, Alessandra (NPC)) #Marcus

Rachel
 

Who: Marcus and Alessandra (NPC werewolf)

With: Marauders

When: February 21st, 872

Where: Forest, Eastern Duchy



The smells coming out of camp were potent and intoxicating - and a little much for the werewolf lieutenant, whose monstrous half thrived when the moon was up, blood was pumping, and inhibitions were down. Ale, stolen from a nearby Manor, and… deer, if she had to guess from the smell, hunted from the forest. Although the Marauders had a rough time of it in a hundred ways, tonight was a celebration - at the least, an acknowledgement that their hard work could cut through the epic bad luck that restricted them from normalcy.


Alessandra, though, already appreciated the normalcy the Marauders afforded her. So although she spent an hour chatting, dancing, cheering, the lieutenant knew she couldn't quite immerse in all the festivities, and that was okay with her. She left the chanting, frolicking crowd to excuse herself - wandering all the way down to the river, where she dropped to a knee and scooped hefty palmfuls of water up into her hair and down her face. Drawing in a breath as water dripped off her face, she cocked her head to the side and cast her eyes toward the too-quiet figure in the shadows with her.


"Are you not hungry?" Alessandra asked, with a hint of a laugh in her voice. "There's a feast on, if you missed it."


Tonight had been the culmination of weeks of planning, reconnaissance, and skillful raiding on the part of many men and women who had grown to rely on one another like few other armies could claim. They were elite. They were fierce. And they would take what rightfully belonged to them from a kingdom that saw them as little more than fodder.


So, yes, a celebration was due after such hard work. Not only had they come home with enough food and supplies to last several long weeks, but they hadn't suffered a single death in the process. So, Marcus would let his Marauders have their evening of revelry. They had earned it.


Marcus the Vile did not join the celebration, though. He sat separate from his crew, drinking from a personal wine skin and idly sharpening a dagger with his thoughts on a world that was a lifetime away.


When Alessandra approached, he glanced up long enough to acknowledge her and shrug, his hands back on the blade in his hands. “Celebration is for those who fear death,” he retorted, his voice low. “They celebrate because they have survived another fight. Their struggles haven't been in vain. They feel vindicated for the night, and they know there's no guarantee they'll be able to say the same next time.”


He looked up at the distant party, eyes cold. “I'll celebrate when the Duke’s heart tastes my steel.”


Alessandra breathed out a laugh that bordered on derisive. But she took a breath, sipped water from her cupped hands. "A wise man once told me…" Actually, it had been a TED Talk she'd listened to on the subway on a Wednesday morning. But it had rung true - more and moreso after she'd become a Creature. "You'll never find happiness on the other side of a goal."


She stood up and strolled over. "So - you kill the duke. Then what? You kill the duke who replaces him? Or, you kill the king?" Her shrug was pronounced, dismissive. "When you're king, you'll hate these or those uprisers… You'll always find a reason not to celebrate, if you let yourself." Setting her ass on a log an arm's length away, Alessandra shrugged, and her final statement escaped in a whisper of authenticity she couldn't help. "You have fewer years than you think."


There was a small part of Marcus that wanted to tell the werewolf everything about his plans. How taking over didn’t mean a damn thing to him. He wanted to watch the world burn and the cost was negligible. As far as Marcus was concerned, his life ended the moment he’d walked through the damned portal. This was all just extra credit. But...it wasn’t worth the risk of losing his lieutenant, so he shrugged and put on a wry grin. “It wouldn’t be any fun if I went and told you all my tricks up front, would it?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise for you and the crew.”


Eyes on a pair who’d taken it upon themselves to start wrestling - which would undoubtedly turn into a brawl soon,


“What about you?” he spun the question back on his lieutenant - an old investigative move he’d learned too many years back. A lifetime ago. “You and your husband content to follow me for the rest of your years? Or are you just waiting for me to reach the top before you kick my ass and take my spot?”


Alessandra's eyes bypassed amusement, cut through it all and met Marcus's with cool reality instead. Something in her gaze suggested she was fifty years older than him, even though that was far from the truth. "You gave us years." No one took creatures lightly - Alessandra was keenly aware that she was a plague on mankind, and she would find mercy nowhere else.


"After the Night of the Wolves, no one would tolerate a werewolf army. We'd be wiped out before we began." The Marauders struggled, but not nearly as much as they would have if they were wolves. Her eyes darkened a bit because it was not as though she didn't have ambition: there was wolf in her that hated following anyone she could best in a physical battle. Struggling, those eyes honed in on the same altercation that drew her commander's in camp.


But as she glanced back at Marcus, that impulse dissipated. Marcus might have been human, but he was a leader. He knew not just how to run operations, but also how to inspire people. How to give life meaning to people who otherwise would have been hopeless. "I'll follow you to the bitter, fucking end, Marcus. I might have promised it a hundred times, but I will again, if you need me to."


Marcus didn’t look at Alessandra for a long moment as she pledged her loyalty to him, again. Not in front of the Marauders like she had when he first took her and her husband in. Or when he’d brought her up as a lieutenant and brought on others of her kind. This was a private moment. One between warriors. One of trust. They both knew full well that, if she wanted to, there was little stopping Alessandra from ending it all for Marcus. And maybe he’d even thank her for that, when the time came. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight. Tonight, she was thankful. Thankful for the life he’d given her back when those bastards had taken it away.


“Someday,” Marcus said, eyes finally moving to meet his lieutenant’s, “I’ll hold you up to that. But not tonight. And not tomorrow, if I can help it.” Clinking his tin mug against hers, Marcus finished off his drink and stood. “Now go drink, make merry with your mate, and celebrate. Tomorrow, we work on toppling the king and taking over the world!”


Alessandra laughed in return and acquiesced with a Marauder's salute, right fist tapped three times against her heart. "If that's an order…"


She fully intended to turn it back on him with one final invitation to join them. However, that brawl inevitably did break out, and as lieutenant, it was part of her job to manage the men, and she jumped to it with what was almost a literal bark: "Break it up...!"


fin

 


Dance Magic, Dance #Theo #Bert #Brandy #Bridgette

Steph
 

Who: Theo

With: Bridgette, Bert, Brandy

Where: Silver Tankard Wagon, Riverside Avenue, Artisan's Quarter, King's City

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Technically, there were two ways to come into the the King's City--via the Soldier's Quarter or the Merchant's Quarter, but Theo had taken the third. With all the things he'd heard about the King's City and the upcoming festival, it was easy to make the King's City the focal point in his mind, even though he'd never been there. The Fairy Circle he'd found in Manhattan did its magic and whisked him away from the December chill into a slightly less chilly February late afternoon.


Time was different enough between Eventyr and Earth that Theo had worried he might miss the whole festival, but from the moment he'd appeared in an herbalist's yard and promptly gotten shooed off by the herbalist's apprentices, he could tell he hadn't missed a thing. The streets were filled with music, celebration, food, and drink.


He'd asked a few questions and feigned being blackout drunk and forgetting the day to get some answers. The best party was at the Castle itself today, but you couldn't get in without an expensive gift for the baby.


The second-best party was the one that had formed up around the line of people waiting to get into the Castle, on Riverside Avenue. So, with no intentions to actually try to get into the castle, he'd made his way to Riverside Avenue.


He stopped for a moment to lean up against the stone wall that separated the avenue from the river itself and peer over it. It was a solid construction, but looking at how fast the river water in the channel flowed, and how wide it seemed, he would have expected the river to be louder--a deafening roar. Instead, it only provided a sort of distant rumbling bass beat to the battling street performer music in all directions.


"...never get through with a gift like that one," a woman was telling a man who held a bundle of something in his arms.


"I'll damn well try if it means a chance of getting any of that unlimited free beer," the man retorted.


Theo quirked a smile, hand on his ample-enough coin pouch. Although whatever he spent in Eventyr stayed in Eventyr, he'd pocketed more cash than he usually carried around with him on Earth, so he figured he had enough money that he wouldn't need that unlimited free beer. He cut through the crowd that might also have been a line and looked around until he spotted a wagon with a tent set up outside of it, surrounded by plenty of people who looked like they had fresh drinks. It bore a logo of an overflowing tankard, surrounded by curling letters that spelled "The Silver Tankard."


Perfect.


As he approached, it was hard to tell if there was any sort of queue or line, so he just did what he expected would be most correct in this situation and started to shoulder his way past the people who held full mugs and tankards and toward the apparent barmaid.


"What's your best drink?" he called out over the voices, hoping to catch her attention with his voice and with a dashing smile.


<Tag!>


Theo, dressed in red and ready to party: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/2b/b8/cc/2bb8cce16909e7167e155767d24012d7--crowns-king-arthur.jpg


The Babe With the Power #James #Sanya #Malia

Rachel
 

Who: Malia
With: James Castille, Sanya Nimr, other royal party attendants
Where: Castle courtyard, King's City
When: February 28th, evening

The interior of the castle was downright cold, which meant that emerging into even this chilly-sunny day warmed Malia's cocoa skin. It made the Duchess grateful for the thick folds of her gown and the snug fit of her jeweled leather boots. How these young southern ladies tolerated their frocks and slippers, Malia had no idea -
but Malia did not need to attract a nobleman the way they did. As she exited the castle into the courtyard, her steps were cautious, but her posture confident - hopefully, enough so to deter anyone from inquiring after her comings and goings.


The air smelled fresh and clean, a benefit from the castle sitting atop a raging river. A witch's spell, a century or more ago now, tempered the noise from the water and thus allowed the sweet music from the players to resonate throughout the party.


The courtyard was a pleasant sight - utilized as a training field for soldiers, she guessed. The grass provided a soft padding for a fall, but otherwise it was simply a luxury, a show of wealth: since no cows or horses grazed here, it was little more than a cushion for rookies and a chore for the landscapers to maintain.


The walls that framed the castle and overlooked the Enchanted Lake were heavily patrolled today. Guests were not allowed on the walls, nor inside the castle proper - although Malia had snuck in her visit with impunity thus far.


The slope of the green led to the Artisan's Bridge, where nobles and commoners alike offered their gifts up for scrutiny and hoped entry to the grand soiree. Tables, spread with food and drink, led the way from there up to where the king and his consort sat in their "diet thrones" (as Malia labeled them in her mind), greeting friends and accepting gifts. Malia noticed that while the lovely young, rotund consort would smile, smile, smile, she never touched the gifts. A servant always snatched them up, for the purpose of displaying them, and then took them inside. Malia guessed they were worried about poisoning or some other mischief, and a subdued smile tugged at her full lips.


The elaborate show drew Malia's mind back to her own baby showers, once-upon-a-time, so many years ago. A few family members, friends, colleagues gathering to play a silly game or two and offer a month's worth of diapers or a gift card… while she treasured those memories, and those of her children, nothing about this display made Malia yearn for another. Her heart laid elsewhere.


The click of metal boots were her only warning.


"My lady," a voice said behind her - polite, but firm.


Malia's eyebrow twitched and her torso turned slowly. There was an authority in her movement and her eyes that dared the guard to challenge her - even if the scarlet cape off his shoulders implied his rank.

"Guests are not allowed inside the castle. I apologize that you were not alerted to that when you entered."


No duh - Malia mused to herself. She had slipped in when the king and consort arrived, under cover of commotion. No one had seen her, and now this soldier hoped to cover his ass with an apology.


"Please come with us, so we can ask you a few questions," he concluded.


Malia's eyes narrowed dangerously as she exhaled an annoyed sigh. Raising red flags was the last thing she had wanted….


Tagging a Prince Charm...somethingorotheryouknow

Wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e3/27/30/e327304328abe95bb584627960403396.jpg


Puppy Dog Tails #Marcus #Kyky

Rachel
 

Since this wasn't her world, Kyky honestly had no qualms about gaming the system. It was all a big game in the end, wasn't it?


The royal party was so glamorous! All the ladies in their gowns, and princes and dukes all decked out: it sounded like the Disney-esque fairy tales she had grown up on! She wanted to get swept off her feet by a lord and wear jewels and sing cheesy-but-catchy anthems that woodland creatures would love so much they would start talking to her…!


So Kyky and Jaya had gotten jobs as laundresses for the day, but had snuck in with gowns rolled up under their skirts. This was way easier than trying to scrounge up hundreds or thousands of gold coins to buy a gift for the royal baby with no guarantee it would be deemed worthy. Luckily, her job as laundress helped her work out the wrinkles from her pink gown before she donned it. Unluckily, she was sent to ironing while Jaya was sent to hanging. No worries, though - they would catch up soon, as each made their respective moves. For Kyky, it was a simple matter of sneaking away to find a dark corner, changing, and escaping toward the sound of lutes and harps in the courtyard.


Light, quick steps sounded like the skipping of a happy child on the stone floors as Kyky took steps two at a time, a giant smile plastered on her face and fistfuls of skirt bunched up in her hands.


Tags Marcus!


Wearing: https://78.media.tumblr.com/72a0222a38bd78210932373f40ece4fa/tumblr_p49wrbdNWp1vdi3w5o1_250.gif


Re: Dance Magic, Dance #Theo #Bert #Brandy #Bridgette

Ben
 

Who: Bert

With: Theo, Bridgette, Brandy

Where: Silver Tankard Wagon, Riverside Avenue, Artisan's Quarter, King's City

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Bert looked at the crowd from his spot by The Silver Tankard’s wagon, which was surprisingly clear, considering all the people trying to get an ale. He had grabbed his own not long after they finished setting up and positioned himself to stay out of the way. He glanced down at his outfit, hoping he had dressed appropriately for the day. As Sheriff, he had the means to enter the castle proper and enjoy the festivities from there, but he didn’t want to leave his fellow adventurers behind either. So, to ensure he could do both, Bert had opted for some simple leathers and a matching cape, with his badge of office pinned to his vest. While still simple enough to ensure he blended in, it was nice enough to make sure his position was known.


As he watched the festival unfold, Bert felt many urges to whisper some advice to many of the celebrating citizens, whether it was to maybe avoid that last ale, or to maybe not get too cozy with a barmaid. But today, he felt, was a day for people to enjoy themselves now, and maybe think about the consequences later. He’d step in if something seemed particularly dangerous.


Ignoring most of the crowds for the moment, Bert looked around to see if he recognized anyone yet. He had planned on meeting some of his old party here throughout the day, but nobody had seemed to make it quite as early as he had. Oh well. There was still a lot of party to go, he was sure they’d turn up eventually.


In the meantime, Bert looked longingly at his staff. He intended to go inside a little later and pay his respects to the king and his consort. His gift was to be advice on the new child’s future, something that many of the guards in the city recognized as nearly priceless, depending on what he told them. He only hoped it would be to the king’s liking.

Bert stood up and brushed himself off, removing some of the dust that had built up from staying in one place surrounded by crowds. Maybe it was time to go searching for his friends instead of waiting for them. At least, that was the plan until he was suddenly shouldered aside by a man making his way to the wagon, calling for the barmaid as he went. Just for a moment, Bert allowed his status to slip through in his speech, giving the man a rather stern look as he went past.


“Pardon me, sir, but I do believe it’s good manners to excuse yourself after running into someone.”


Internally, Bert flinched at his own tone, not quite meaning to come across so haughty, but went with it for the moment, hoping he’d get the chance to rescind it shortly.


Tags!



On Wed, Aug 1, 2018 at 6:24 PM, Steph <singer.of.the.lost@...> wrote:

Who: Theo

With: Bridgette, Bert, Brandy

Where: Silver Tankard Wagon, Riverside Avenue, Artisan's Quarter, King's City

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Technically, there were two ways to come into the the King's City--via the Soldier's Quarter or the Merchant's Quarter, but Theo had taken the third. With all the things he'd heard about the King's City and the upcoming festival, it was easy to make the King's City the focal point in his mind, even though he'd never been there. The Fairy Circle he'd found in Manhattan did its magic and whisked him away from the December chill into a slightly less chilly February late afternoon.


Time was different enough between Eventyr and Earth that Theo had worried he might miss the whole festival, but from the moment he'd appeared in an herbalist's yard and promptly gotten shooed off by the herbalist's apprentices, he could tell he hadn't missed a thing. The streets were filled with music, celebration, food, and drink.


He'd asked a few questions and feigned being blackout drunk and forgetting the day to get some answers. The best party was at the Castle itself today, but you couldn't get in without an expensive gift for the baby.


The second-best party was the one that had formed up around the line of people waiting to get into the Castle, on Riverside Avenue. So, with no intentions to actually try to get into the castle, he'd made his way to Riverside Avenue.


He stopped for a moment to lean up against the stone wall that separated the avenue from the river itself and peer over it. It was a solid construction, but looking at how fast the river water in the channel flowed, and how wide it seemed, he would have expected the river to be louder--a deafening roar. Instead, it only provided a sort of distant rumbling bass beat to the battling street performer music in all directions.


"...never get through with a gift like that one," a woman was telling a man who held a bundle of something in his arms.


"I'll damn well try if it means a chance of getting any of that unlimited free beer," the man retorted.


Theo quirked a smile, hand on his ample-enough coin pouch. Although whatever he spent in Eventyr stayed in Eventyr, he'd pocketed more cash than he usually carried around with him on Earth, so he figured he had enough money that he wouldn't need that unlimited free beer. He cut through the crowd that might also have been a line and looked around until he spotted a wagon with a tent set up outside of it, surrounded by plenty of people who looked like they had fresh drinks. It bore a logo of an overflowing tankard, surrounded by curling letters that spelled "The Silver Tankard."


Perfect.


As he approached, it was hard to tell if there was any sort of queue or line, so he just did what he expected would be most correct in this situation and started to shoulder his way past the people who held full mugs and tankards and toward the apparent barmaid.


"What's your best drink?" he called out over the voices, hoping to catch her attention with his voice and with a dashing smile.


<Tag!>


Theo, dressed in red and ready to party: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/2b/b8/cc/2bb8cce16909e7167e155767d24012d7--crowns-king-arthur.jpg




--
Benjamin Warner


Re: Dance Magic, Dance #Theo #Bert #Brandy #Bridgette

Rachel
 

The whole idea of the wagon had been Brandy's. When she'd heard the owner of the Silver Tankard lamenting how far they were from the castle, it had seemed obvious - or at least, obvious to anyone who'd walked through a mall and had kiosks beckon them in. The trouble was that perfume or hair straighteners or phone cases were never as compelling as alcohol. It was the perfect business model. Brandy had been dropping so many coins into her cleavage that she was running out of room - and in this body, that was saying something!


Theo: "What's your best drink?"


Brandy turned to face her new customer - oh, what a cutie! She returned his smile with her own saucy smirk and drew in close to give his chest a playful poke and promise, "Oh, I know exactly what you need."


Really, there were two options - a regular ale and a hard cider. While the bar itself had a wider variety, there was no practical way to get more than a choice or two out into a wagon in any sort of volume. And out of two, Brandy had never guessed wrong!


Bert: “Pardon me, sir, but I do believe it’s good manners to excuse yourself after running into someone.”


While she poured the beer, her ears perked. There was a confrontation… a glance backward confirmed it was between a commoner and a noble. Shit.


But hell, she could fix that! All she had to do was pour another drink while she was at it - and, for good measure, a third, which she tucked snugly against her breast as she returned.


"Oh now, now - there's no fuss a good drink can't solve," Brandy said, patronizing but with a flirtatious edge, casting a glance between each of the rather handsome specimens. She stepped between the two men and insisted each take a beer before claiming her own and proposing a toast. "Let's drink! To new friends."


Tags!

Wearing: https://i.imgur.com/sFfhwDR.jpg


Re: Dance Magic, Dance #Theo #Bert #Brandy #Bridgette

Vincent Gonzales
 

Who: Bridgette (aka Red) and her Pixie Friend, Asteria

With: Theo, Bert, Brandy

Where: Silver Tankard Wagon, Riverside Avenue, Artisan's Quarter, King's City

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Pixies were a lot of things, but primary among them were playful tricksters, so it shouldn’t have surprised the Spirit of the Forest that she had been roped into another one of their ‘games’ with stakes much higher than she had wagered for. She had, in true human fashion, found herself on the losing end of a game she’d hardly even known she was playing and when it came time for Asteria to claim her prize, she had pronounced that Red was to escort her to the man-festival in the King’s City. Asteria wanted to drink ale, eat the large grilled meats and see humans.


So, it was a deal, and when the Pixie had drawn Red to the fairy circle, there was little she could do to protest. She gathered her things, coached Asteria on staying out of sight in Red’s hood, and off they went - arriving in an herb garden where an herbalist seemed to already be griping about trampled flowers and torn roots.


With a smile of apology, Red made her way through the square, taking in a city she hadn’t seen in half a decade. There was an ache in her chest, faint as it were, to go into the castle. To see the people that were once her family. Half lost in thought, she’d wandered to the Artisan’s Quarter where she spotted a wagon that appeared to be well able to check the first item off of her list. “We have to wait in line with the rest of the humans,” she informed her pixie friend, pulling her hood a little lower on her head.


Theo: *elbowing his way past people* "What's your best drink?"


Bert: *all haughty and self-righteous* “Pardon me, sir, but I do believe it’s good manners to excuse yourself after running into someone.”


Brandy: *all buxom and savvy* "Oh now, now - there's no fuss a good drink can't solve," <...> "Let's drink! To new friends."

 

The former crown princess watched the events unfold before her with middling interest. This lady, it seemed, was good when it came to talking to people. Something Bridgette wasn’t so sure was one of her strengths. It was admirable, and Red would have been happy to watch her for much longer until she realized she recognized one of the men. “Theo,” she said aloud, head tilting to one side as she took in his face. Yeah, that was him alright.

 

As she felt a sharp tug on the hair behind her ear with the impatient rustling of feathers, she glared into her own hood. “Okay!” she said under her breath before approaching the maiden’s bartop. “Um...one ale please.” she said, placing a handful of copper on the counter and hoped that would be enough.

 

tags!



Re: Puppy Dog Tails #Marcus #Kyky

Vincent Gonzales
 

Who: Marcus

With: Kyky

Where: The King’s Castle - Courtyard

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Marcus had known that the King’s Festival would be ripe with hobnobbing elbow rubbers and had dressed to fit the part, donning his finest leathers, an ornamental dagger on one hip and a pocketful of gold to bribe just the right guards, if necessary. The dagger had been the belonging of a now-dead noble, and while no self-respecting warrior would use it in a fight, the gems decorating both the hilt and the expertly etched into the blade itself made for one hell of a showpiece.


He’d planned on keeping it for himself, but the need of getting his lieutenant back for exceeded his need for a pretty blade. So when he approached the gate, he’d uncoupled the dagger, sheath and all, from his hip and offered it to the guards who waited with instructions to only let in the finest of gifts. With a few smooth words, the gift was accepted and Marcus found himself inside the castle gates. Step one, complete.


Now he just needed to get into the dungeon and free his companion. If he had to fight his way out of here, he had a contingency plan for just such an occasion, but he hoped to find a quieter way of doing things. For once.


His eyes surveyed one of the few unguarded halls, doing his best to commit the layout to memory for later when a young woman came skipping out of a door. Her skirt was finely made but the way she half-ran with her skirts bunched up in her hand with her ankles exposed...and...were those peasant shoes?


A plan began to form in his mind as he rushed to intercept her just before she came into the eyeline of a noble couple who had been watching him more closely than he would have liked. “There you are, my darling!” Marcus cried out, falling in step beside the young woman and looping her arm in with his. “I thought I’d have lost you for an eternity in this vast estate!”


The couple turned their attention away after a moment’s hesitation and Marcus muttered under his breath, “Nice shoes, by the way.”


tags!


Re: Dance Magic, Dance #Theo #Bert #Brandy #Bridgette

Steph
 

Who: Theo
With: Bridgette, Bert, Brandy
Where: Silver Tankard Wagon, Riverside Avenue, Artisan's Quarter, King's City
When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)

>>>>
“Pardon me, sir, but I do believe it’s good manners to excuse yourself after running into someone.”
>>>>
"Oh now, now - there's no fuss a good drink can't solve," Brandy said, patronizing but with a flirtatious edge, casting a glance between each of the rather handsome specimens. She stepped between the two men and insisted each take a beer before claiming her own and proposing a toast. "Let's drink! To new friends." 
>>>>
As she felt a sharp tug on the hair behind her ear with the impatient rustling of feathers, she glared into her own hood. “Okay!” she said under her breath before approaching the maiden’s bartop. “Um...one ale please.” she said, placing a handful of copper on the counter and hoped that would be enough. 
>>>>

Theo was used to crowded bars where everyone just straight up expected to be jostled a bit and few people got offended as long as you were mindful not to knock their drink arm or cut between two romantic partners. You could certainly be rude about the amount of space you took up, but he'd felt he was being fairly considerate and only bypassing people who already had drinks. He still started to turn and smile courteously to the gentleman who'd decided to take offense, not recognizing the symbol of authority for what it was. Why would he? He'd never met a sheriff before.

Then the barmaid cut in and pressed a beer into his hands and the hands of the offended man, lifting her glass in an immediate toast. Theo lifted his, as well, and tipped it to take a small but affirming sip, eyeing Bert as he did. Likely it would be a good idea to offer further goodwill, just to be careful, regardless of who he was.

"I'll pay for that, of course, to make some recompense," he said. The big word sounded more potentially fantasy-game-ish, more appropriate to the setting, even if it felt a smidge weird to say it.

Then, surprise of surprises, he heard his name, turned, and saw a familiar face hidden in the shadowed folds of a hood--that of his odd forest guide!

"Red," he said with a big grin. "I never expected to see you here. I'll get your ale, too. I still owe you, after all." And then, for good measure, he added a courteous nod of his head to the barmaid and used one hand to produce a few coins of what he hoped were appropriate value. "If it's no trouble, of course. Thank you." Being kind to the one who brought you drinks was always a wise idea.

<Tag!>


Re: The Babe With the Power #James #Sanya #Malia

turksgirl
 

Who: James Castille
With: Malia Campbell, Sanya Nimr, other royal party attendants
Where: Castle courtyard, King's City 
When: February 28th, evening

"Please come with us, so we can ask you a few questions," he concluded.

Malia's eyes narrowed dangerously as she exhaled an annoyed sigh. Raising red flags was the last thing she had wanted….

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

"Why, pray tell, are you bothering the Duchess of the North, Captain?" a low voice like grinding gravel asked. James Castille, better known to most as the Green Duke, stared down at the guard with a dull expression that could have been boredom. "While the Artisan's bridge is so overwhelmed with gift givers and well wishers there may be a drowning?" he drawled out as if an accident might lively up the place.

The captain looked from the Duchess, to the Duke and then the bridge. The Duke of the East had no real authority, but he was the king's half-brother. And they were nobles.... "I'll escort her ladyship until you return to poise your questions of the utmost pertinence, Captain" the Duke assured him with a dull, dead gaze, it was like having a corpse look you over.

The guard hesitated before giving a nod and marching off toward the bridge. 

"He'll be back" James admitted dryly, offering his elbow to the Duchess so they could lose themselves among the other nobles for a time. The captain had his pride to nurse first, but he would return. 

Tags from price charmless



Re: Puppy Dog Tails #Marcus #Kyky

Rachel
 

Ahead, Kyky finally saw guests of the party, and so she knew she was going in the right direction. What she didn't know was what she was going to say when they inevitably asked why she was coming up from the servant's quarters. She kinda hadn't expected to see anyone until they were outside.

Marcus: “There you are, my darling!” “I thought I’d have lost you for an eternity in this vast estate!”

Before she knew it, a handsome young man was jumping to her rescue and taking her arm. Sure, she'd had this whole fantasy about Prince Charming sweeping her off her feet, onto a white steed, and galloping off into the sunset, but she hadn't expected it to happen so fast.

No complaints, though, Kyky mused to herself as she sized him up, quickly. His clothes implied money, but not at the expense of free movement. His curls gave him a boyish look that contrasted nicely with the beard that grew him up. Kyky had to try very hard to make her smile familiar instead of dopey and schoolgirlish.

The couple turned back to their own business and Kyky followed the man along further down the hallway, quiet until his whisper.

Marcus: “Nice shoes, by the way.”

Instantly, Kyky dropped the bunch of skirt in her hand and smoothed it down her thighs, as if she could make it longer with sheer force of will. The shoes were a glaring sign that she didn't fit in, but there'd been no way around them - she couldn't exactly stuff gold slippers into her bra. She'd expected that only servants, with their downcast eyes, would notice, and expected they'd be happy for her, if anything.

And all that infatuation came crashing down when Kyky realized she wasn't going to fool this Prince Charming into thinking she was some kind of lady. "Ugh," she grunted out in complaint, and muttered back. "Do you think the guards will notice, too?"

Tags!

 


Re: Puppy Dog Tails #Marcus #Kyky

Ben
 

Who: Hawkins

With: Marcus, Kyky

Where: The King’s Castle - Dungeon

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Hawkins was well and truly at the end of his rope. He had dealt with the superstitious crews. He had dealt with the shady captain. Shoot, he could have dealt with being thrown in jail due to said captain. But to be named an enemy of the realm and thrown in the King’s Dungeon? That was a bit much. Even worse, he was placed in a cell across from a known werewolf with the full moon approaching! Even if he couldn’t break out of the cell, that didn’t mean she couldn’t.


Casting a glance across the hall, he could just make out the werewolf’s silhouette in the dim lighting. Despite all the festivities going on outside, very little light or sound made it this far into the castle keep. He had tried everything he knew to break out over the last week, but nothing seemed to work. The walls and door were too well built, there was nothing he could pick the lock with, and the one window in his cell was way out of reach. His only hope had been to reach his sword, which was leaned against the wall just outside of his cell, but that was just out of reach too. Thankfully, they had let him keep his regular clothes to protect against the winter chill in the air.


After checking his different escape options for the umpteenth time, he slumped against the back wall. It would seem he was never getting out of there. Not unless a miracle came his way.


Tags!



On Wed, Aug 8, 2018 at 1:46 PM, Rachel Balla <rachelballa@...> wrote:

Ahead, Kyky finally saw guests of the party, and so she knew she was going in the right direction. What she didn't know was what she was going to say when they inevitably asked why she was coming up from the servant's quarters. She kinda hadn't expected to see anyone until they were outside.

Marcus: “There you are, my darling!” “I thought I’d have lost you for an eternity in this vast estate!”

Before she knew it, a handsome young man was jumping to her rescue and taking her arm. Sure, she'd had this whole fantasy about Prince Charming sweeping her off her feet, onto a white steed, and galloping off into the sunset, but she hadn't expected it to happen so fast.

No complaints, though, Kyky mused to herself as she sized him up, quickly. His clothes implied money, but not at the expense of free movement. His curls gave him a boyish look that contrasted nicely with the beard that grew him up. Kyky had to try very hard to make her smile familiar instead of dopey and schoolgirlish.

The couple turned back to their own business and Kyky followed the man along further down the hallway, quiet until his whisper.

Marcus: “Nice shoes, by the way.”

Instantly, Kyky dropped the bunch of skirt in her hand and smoothed it down her thighs, as if she could make it longer with sheer force of will. The shoes were a glaring sign that she didn't fit in, but there'd been no way around them - she couldn't exactly stuff gold slippers into her bra. She'd expected that only servants, with their downcast eyes, would notice, and expected they'd be happy for her, if anything.

And all that infatuation came crashing down when Kyky realized she wasn't going to fool this Prince Charming into thinking she was some kind of lady. "Ugh," she grunted out in complaint, and muttered back. "Do you think the guards will notice, too?"

Tags!

 




--
Benjamin Warner


Re: The Babe With the Power #James #Sanya #Malia

Rachel
 

James: "Why, pray tell, are you bothering the Duchess of the North, Captain?" "While the Artisan's bridge is so overwhelmed with gift givers and well wishers there may be a drowning?" "I'll escort her ladyship until you return to poise your questions of the utmost pertinence, Captain"


James swept in to her rescue, which Malia had hoped for but not counted on. He looked so fucking dashing, but his delivery left so much to be desired! At least his words and the authority behind them did the trick, and he sent the uppity soldier on his way. Now, that Captain would be personally blamed for any incident on the bridge, and he knew it, and he would make sure he was present.


James: "He'll be back."


With that flat, gravelly voice and that huge, muscular frame, Malia immediately connected James' words to the famous Terminator catchphrase and burst into laughter - quiet laughter, subdued, as she refused to draw attention, but her amusement and gratitude bled through. How awful that he would never get the joke!


She claimed his elbow when offered, and gave his bicep a subtle, suggestive squeeze when she did. After all, she was no longer married, and suffered from none of the anxieties of their first meeting, and once she was rescued, there was a playful lilt in her voice. "That's fine. I'll answer any questions he has... in an hour - maybe less," if she was reading the arch of the sun correctly...


Changing the subject abruptly, she continued. Her upbeat attitude and bounce in her step implied her optimism - celebration, if you will. "Have you eaten? Let's get some food."

Tags


Re: Dance Magic, Dance #Theo #Bert #Brandy #Bridgette

Ben
 

Who: Bert

With: Theo, Bridgette, Brandy

Where: Silver Tankard Wagon, Riverside Avenue, Artisan's Quarter, King's City

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Bert glanced quickly between the barmaid and the young man he had confronted. It seems he’d get his way out after all. Taking the offered mug and joining the toast, he turned back to the man. “That won’t be necessary, sir. It just seems my drink got the better of me. Enjoy your night.” He smiled to himself as he saw the young man turn to follow a young girl about the same age. It would seem his last comment was unnecessary.


Bert took a moment to turn back to the barmaid who had so quickly stepped in. “Thank you for your help. I’m still not sure what came over me there.” He reached into his coin purse and produced a few coppers. “ I hope that will compensate you for your troubles.” He took a good swig of his new beer, enjoying the flavor for a moment before wandering towards the line of people leading to the castle.


It would seem many people had either put their life savings into a present for the soon to be born child, or their life’s work, with many different masterpieces visible just from where he was standing. If not for his own status and gift in advice, it’s unlikely that Bert would normally be able to enter the castle. But it wasn’t quite time for that yet. He still wanted to look around a little more first. It’s not every day you get to join a festival in the King’s City!


Tags!



On Tue, Aug 7, 2018 at 1:54 AM, Steph <singer.of.the.lost@...> wrote:
Who: Theo
With: Bridgette, Bert, Brandy
Where: Silver Tankard Wagon, Riverside Avenue, Artisan's Quarter, King's City
When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)

>>>>
“Pardon me, sir, but I do believe it’s good manners to excuse yourself after running into someone.”
>>>>
"Oh now, now - there's no fuss a good drink can't solve," Brandy said, patronizing but with a flirtatious edge, casting a glance between each of the rather handsome specimens. She stepped between the two men and insisted each take a beer before claiming her own and proposing a toast. "Let's drink! To new friends." 
>>>>
As she felt a sharp tug on the hair behind her ear with the impatient rustling of feathers, she glared into her own hood. “Okay!” she said under her breath before approaching the maiden’s bartop. “Um...one ale please.” she said, placing a handful of copper on the counter and hoped that would be enough. 
>>>>

Theo was used to crowded bars where everyone just straight up expected to be jostled a bit and few people got offended as long as you were mindful not to knock their drink arm or cut between two romantic partners. You could certainly be rude about the amount of space you took up, but he'd felt he was being fairly considerate and only bypassing people who already had drinks. He still started to turn and smile courteously to the gentleman who'd decided to take offense, not recognizing the symbol of authority for what it was. Why would he? He'd never met a sheriff before.

Then the barmaid cut in and pressed a beer into his hands and the hands of the offended man, lifting her glass in an immediate toast. Theo lifted his, as well, and tipped it to take a small but affirming sip, eyeing Bert as he did. Likely it would be a good idea to offer further goodwill, just to be careful, regardless of who he was.

"I'll pay for that, of course, to make some recompense," he said. The big word sounded more potentially fantasy-game-ish, more appropriate to the setting, even if it felt a smidge weird to say it.

Then, surprise of surprises, he heard his name, turned, and saw a familiar face hidden in the shadowed folds of a hood--that of his odd forest guide!

"Red," he said with a big grin. "I never expected to see you here. I'll get your ale, too. I still owe you, after all." And then, for good measure, he added a courteous nod of his head to the barmaid and used one hand to produce a few coins of what he hoped were appropriate value. "If it's no trouble, of course. Thank you." Being kind to the one who brought you drinks was always a wise idea.

<Tag!>




--
Benjamin Warner


Make Him Free #hawkins #alessandra

Ben
 

Who: Hawkins

With: Marcus, Kyky

Where: The King’s Castle - Dungeon

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Hawkins was well and truly at the end of his rope. He had dealt with the superstitious crews. He had dealt with the shady captain. Shoot, he could have dealt with being thrown in jail due to said captain. But to be named an enemy of the realm and thrown in the King’s Dungeon? That was a but much. Even worse, he was placed in a cell across from a known werewolf with the full moon approaching! Even if he couldn’t break out of the cell, that didn’t mean she couldn’t.


Casting a glance across the hall, he could just make out the werewolf’s silhouette in the dim lighting. Despite all the festivities going on outside, very little light or sound made it this far into the castle keep. He had tried everything he knew to break out over the last week, but nothing seemed to work. The walls and door were too well built, there was nothing he could pick the lock with, and the one window in his cell was way out of reach. His only hope had been to reach his sword, which was leaned against the wall just outside of his cell, but that was just out of reach too. Thankfully, they had let him keep his regular clothes to protect against the winter chill in the air.


After checking his different escape options for the umpteenth time, he slumped against the back wall. It would seem he was never getting out of there. Not unless a miracle came his way.


Tags!



Re: Make Him Free #hawkins #alessandra

Rachel
 

Alessandra missed her son, back in New York. She missed her husband, and his touch. She missed her friends in the Marauders. She missed meat. The last week had been torture - not just the deprivation of these things, but the realization that she would never have them again. The acknowledgement that her best option was suicide rather than waiting for the Braveheart-esque execution she expected sooner than later was harrowing - especially since she didn't see any options in that regard. She didn't want to die.


She strode forward, draping her forearms through the bars. Her elbows rested against the iron, and her hands lifted to caress the bars up to her face. Then, violently, she grabbed them and shook, with more energy and vehemence than she had dared all week, and let out a bark of frustration when they didn't give.


Sucking in a breath of frustration, Alessandra turned her back and sunk down against the bars. Heaving sighs heavy enough that her breath implied she might vomit, she coughed out a sob.


"I'm going to turn tonight," she said aloud, in the first attempt to reach out to the cellmates around her. They might have been criminals, but they weren't creatures. Alessandra had been counting hours. It might have been easier with the sun to guide her, but she had spent enough time as a werewolf to know. "I'm sorry… I never wanted this."


Tags


Re: Make Him Free #hawkins #alessandra

Ben
 

Who: Hawkins

With: Alessandra

Where: The King’s Castle - Dungeon

When: Thursday, February 28th, 872 RoK (Reign of Kings)


Hawkins looked up with a start. He hadn’t been entirely certain of what he’d heard, but it had almost sounded like the werewolf spoke. And here he’d thought she was mute. Or at least didn’t want to speak to someone like him. And now she was talking about turning? That didn’t bode well in the slightest for him. If she turned and got out, who was to say she wouldn’t try to break into his cell and kill him?


Her next statement caught him even more off guard. Why was she apologizing? Why wouldn’t she want this? Wasn’t it her instinct to just kill anyone she came across? Hawkins shook his head in confusion. He had always considered himself a fairly open-minded person, but this seemed a bit much, even for him. Since when had werewolves ever regretted the chance to hurt people?


Then again, here he was, a left-handed sailor. He was supposed to be the devil’s spawn, but he could do good as well. Maybe it wasn’t so weird after all. But what could he do about it now?


“Why?” His voice seemed to croak after a week of non-use. “Why are you sorry?” This felt strange in so many different ways. Hawkins had done a lot of things in his life, but talking to werewolves was never something in his hopes and dreams. “Would you take back the things you’ve done?”


Tags!



On Thu, Aug 9, 2018 at 12:29 AM, Rachel Balla <rachelballa@...> wrote:

Alessandra missed her son, back in New York. She missed her husband, and his touch. She missed her friends in the Marauders. She missed meat. The last week had been torture - not just the deprivation of these things, but the realization that she would never have them again. The acknowledgement that her best option was suicide rather than waiting for the Braveheart-esque execution she expected sooner than later was harrowing - especially since she didn't see any options in that regard. She didn't want to die.


She strode forward, draping her forearms through the bars. Her elbows rested against the iron, and her hands lifted to caress the bars up to her face. Then, violently, she grabbed them and shook, with more energy and vehemence than she had dared all week, and let out a bark of frustration when they didn't give.


Sucking in a breath of frustration, Alessandra turned her back and sunk down against the bars. Heaving sighs heavy enough that her breath implied she might vomit, she coughed out a sob.


"I'm going to turn tonight," she said aloud, in the first attempt to reach out to the cellmates around her. They might have been criminals, but they weren't creatures. Alessandra had been counting hours. It might have been easier with the sun to guide her, but she had spent enough time as a werewolf to know. "I'm sorry… I never wanted this."


Tags




--
Benjamin Warner


Re: The Babe With the Power #James #Sanya #Malia

turksgirl
 

Malia:  "That's fine. I'll answer any questions he has... in an hour - maybe less," if she was reading the arch of the sun correctly..."Have you eaten? Let's get some food."

The Duke assumed that time would help make a suitable excuse, he was sure the captain would take whatever ladylike reason the Duchess gave. But her inquiry if he had eaten, and insistence to do so actually caught the large man off guard. He doubted she had any concern that he was wasting away under his tunic. His brows arched slightly but he allowed her to lead him into the celebration.

James brusquely moved commoner and noble aside with his free arm, to keep anyone from accidentally bumping into the Duchess. He stared forward ignoring most of the people vying for the attention of a noble. He rather be down in the dungeon skinning the werewolf there before the moon rose, but Philip insisted on making an example in a public execution. As if he had captured the she-wolf, had ventured into the ancient, enchanted woods himself. As always James took the risks and his half brother took the glory.

"My condolences and apologies for not attending the Duke's funeral..." Castile said as he examined a table of desserts. It had been some time ago and one of his people sent a lovely letter, but he felt it proper to voice it in person. Better late than never, and he knew how the Duchess truly felt about her late husband. the man had been a dullard. A true example that blood did not make one a ruler.

tags


Re: Dance Magic, Dance #Theo #Bert #Brandy #Bridgette

Rachel
 

Bridgette: “Theo,"...


Theo: "I'll pay for that, of course, to make some recompense,"


Bert: “That won’t be necessary, sir. It just seems my drink got the better of me. Enjoy your night.”


Ooh recompense. The casual drop of a complex word was a nice, subtle way of asserting status of his own, and in one more tense breath, the confrontation seemed to have passed. Thank god - a fight would be terrible for business, and these guys all seemed to have money.


Halfway through a sip, a hooded girl caught Brandy's attention with an order, and Brandy flashed her a cheerful smile in return. The hood was sort of suspicious - it gave her a Robin Hoodsy look. Like she had a secret, or didn't want to be seen.


Bridgette: “Okay!” “Um...one ale please.”


Theo: "Red," "I never expected to see you here. I'll get your ale, too. I still owe you, after all." "If it's no trouble, of course. Thank you."


Well, if the girl hadn't wanted to be seen, she would be disappointed, because the shove-r in the now-averted crisis recognized her and greeted her as a friend.


Bert: “Thank you for your help. I’m still not sure what came over me there.” “I hope that will compensate you for your troubles.”


By this point, Brandy was very sure she had been overpaid. Not a terrible problem to have! She passed the hooded girl her ale, adding, "Enjoy, Red!" and invited the small group to "Stick around, and I'll keep 'em coming!" because they were only going to get looser with their cash as they kept drinking.


Then, she focused in on the sheriff as he gave her another couple of coins. Closing her hand around them, she leaned in with a smirk and a conspiratorial, "What ever troubles do you mean?"


Something about him piqued her interest beside the money. She could easily have turned her attention to roping in more customers, but the truth was that she would be going home to a paycheck and didn't particularly need the money - it was more a way to meet interesting people, and her gut told her she might finally have found one.


So conversationally, she went on, "Why aren't you up in the castle with the other nobles? Don't get me wrong - I'm glad you're here," especially if he planned to keep compensating her, "but I'd be up at the royal party if I had one of these." Stepping in, Brandy tapped his chest right beside his crested badge.


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