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  #21  
Old 01-02-2019, 08:24 PM
FrostBittenKitten FrostBittenKitten is offline
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Beck could scarcely breathe in the stifling air of the ballroom. Women in resplendent dresses and men impeccably groomed in fancy overcoats graced the dance-floor, while musicians played a lilting melody that Beck recognized as a popular tune. Beck didn't fit in here, among the nobles and finery, yet fit in he must. He had to be cordial and welcoming and genuine, which was hard enough normally but doubly hard tonight because he knew that he would shortly be facing off against two people he knew nothing about in the famous Struggle.

He wondered briefly who he would have to fight and what they would be like. Were their abilities more aggressive than his own or less? Were they great strategists or incredibly strong? And what about the North, the dark and foreboding place that no one dared speak of? The rumors were enough to make anyone feel grim, and Beck's possible impending doom didn't help matters.

"Beck, meet Lady Ashira," King Largyen said, jolting him from his thoughts. Beck blinked, shaking off his apprehension as best he could and standing up straight like his mother so frequently chided him to do.

"Nice to meet you," Beck told the stranger, dipping his head politely, which she mirrored. He had never seen her before in his life, though with his avoidance of formal gatherings and the seemingly never-ending amount of nobles vying for the throne, it wasn't a surprise to him. Still, she was beautiful, with pale skin and dark hair that framed a lovely face. While her good looks might have fazed him months ago, they did nothing to ease the tension knotted in his stomach.

"The pleasure is all mine," she replied, silky sweet. Beck glanced sideways at his uncle. Was she another queen hopeful? The thought made his stomach turn. Sometimes it seemed like nearly every noble dreamt of overthrowing his uncle, and having that thrust into his face at this moment was torture.

"If you'll kindly excuse me," Beck said as politely as he could, struggling to draw breath. The song had changed from a ballad to something faster and more frenzied, and the atmosphere had become suddenly even more stifling.

"Oh, but you can't go yet," Lady Ashira begged, her eyes twinkling like gems. Shit.

"Excuse me?" Beck asked, feeling trapped. His uncle didn't seem to get the memo that he felt like a caged animal in this ballroom, which he had no great love for to begin with.

"Why, I haven't even had the pleasure of dancing with you yet," she purred.

Beck glanced again at his uncle, trying to get him to understand with mere eye contact (saying something would have surely been seen as rude, which was the last thing Beck needed to be right now). King Largyen, however, did not notice the frantic gaze of his nephew, or if he did, he didn't care. "Yes, go dance!" he said jovially.

Thanks for nothing, Largyen, Beck thought in annoyance as he took Lady Ashira by the arm and escorted her to the dance-floor. Thankfully, the fast song was short, and the new song was softer and less anxiety-inducing.

"So I heard you're competing in the Struggle this year," Lady Ashira began the conversation, looking at him with an emotion that Beck couldn't place.

"Yes, so I am." Being cordial was such an effort.

"I am sure you'll fare well, seeing as how you clearly inherited your family's notable teleporting talent," Lady Ashira added. It was true. His family was known for being powerful teleporters, and while his father had not had any trace of the abilities that his mother's side had, the power had come through strongly with Beck.

"I may be able to teleport and fight, but the other competitors may well be stronger than I am," Beck told her, and immediately regretted it. I can't look weak in front of my people, especially a noble, he ranted internally. He knew that he couldn't take it back from the smile that Lady Ashira was terrible at hiding. This was going to be a long night.
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  #22  
Old 01-03-2019, 08:08 AM
maxi maxi is offline
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(Holy shite I'm so sorry this is so long!!!! Also what are you hoping to do before the Struggle begins? Are they both gonna be training their powers and themselves as the time comes for them to fight at the Collegium? Are there going to be sub-plots? Should we maybe add a character each to get more story rolling in, maybe the South? Or are we gonna wait for more people to join the NES? Just wondering!)


As much as she hated thinking about that vicious and ever-looming section of land, the rumoured West, it was all Saelia could think of as she emerged into the Court's Pavilion, arm in arm with Vizier Leopold of the Southern Kingdom. She didn't think she'd ever be in such a damning position, but fate was a cruel thing and so it would be for the night ahead.

The moon's sickly fingernail-esque form hung up in the sky as if by a cosmic thread invisible to the human eye. Stars glittered above, a thousand... No, a million pinpricks of golden and silver light coexisting like a land of united peoples, something that Saelia knew could not be alike in Kinshirrin. A sigh escaped her constricted chest as she watched the night unspool itself, more chatter surrounding her like the warbling of songbirds. But this tone was sicker and far more speculative. This tone was of rumour and gossip, of conversation and court talk. She couldn't stand the thought of politics as much as she could Leopold's shadowy presence, and yet here she was.

"The night is glowing," Leopold said, startling her, despite his dreadfully soothing voice. "I've got a lovely lady by my side, and the stars don't look like they're ever coming down from the skies. Perhaps this is the gods giving me a break... For once."

I suppose my fist could introduce itself to his balls, she grunted inwardly, the thought amusing her warmly. However, if she even dared to lay a harmful finger on the Vizier, she had no doubt that her father would come bounding after her, a snarl riding his mouth and a hand ready to toss her from the highest cliff. Such a move would politically weaken Golgaroch.

But when did Golgaroch ever have heroes?

"Lovely... What does lovely imply, exactly?" Saelia asked, stalling as she searched the pavilion with a keen eye for the friend she'd mentioned earlier. Renya was not a friend of sorts, so much as an acquaintance that had once been in a social tassle with Saelia's friend circle. Ever since then, they'd fallen out of their tightly knit friendship, but they still did talk to each other, however awkward it may be. Renya was seeking love in a man, however, and Saelia decided enough was enough: to toss Leopold to the wrath that was Renya, it would be decided.

And yet she couldn't find her gorgeous fiery-haired acquaintance amidst the throes of court nonsense.

"Lovely is silken bedsheets wrapped around your lover. It is the sound of laughter at an unintentionally humourous joke. It is the chuckle after a sweet conversation. It is the protection of a mother and the cooing of a nun. Lovely is a night of clouds and stars, of storms and light," Leopold crooned as the search continued.

"That's... poetic. You should pursue a career in poetry, Your Royal Highness," she replied, wishing the sarcasm was undetected; thankfully, wishes for Saelia usually came true. Fate had a hand on her back for this one time.

His eyes crinkled as he grinned. "I've been considering it actually, Saelia, if this Vizier business doesn't work out for me. My preference is lyrical poetry, as you have probably heard from the 'lovely' piece I gave you—"

Finally, like a beacon in the dark shimmering its luminosity, Saelia spotted Renya amongst the throng of people gathering around the pavilion. The woman leaned her freckled forearms against the balcony before tilting her head to the side—apricot hair sweeping over her shoulder with the movement—as she gazed over at the villages, towns and small capitals beneath the giant beast of a kingdom.

Gods damn her, Renya's beauty was paralleled to none compared to Saelia's petite form, blonde plaited hair and azure eyes. Saelia was certain she looked like every female in the realm, which was most likely why she'd never found acceptance within her father. Perhaps the Dynasty of the Storm would prove her wrong.

"Renya!" Saelia called her once-friend over, a beatific, luminous smile lighting up her face. Her lips tilted upward as she did so in a hopeful attempt to attain optimism, but to no avail.

The instant Renya turned around, Saelia's mind shifted as it always did when she used her ability. Or affinity, as she deemed it.

For her, time slowed down by fragments of slices of moments across the Pavilion. She worked quick, her emotions deep within brewing like a bulking volcano. She found within herself a shard of love for her kingdom and hauled it in lust-red threads of emotion towards both Renya and Leopold.

Once again, she discovered a splinter of hope and romance for the future she wished for, which she shoved at the two of them. Again and again, like she was giving up parts of herself, she pushed those emotions into the both of them, threads aglow, ashimmer: anxiety, frustration, kindness, respect, destiny and faith.

Her affinity for emotional manipulation was strange, in that in order to work it, she had to give up small parts of herself. Of course, the only way to retrieve those parts once more was to live her life, experience new things and find love. The latter could take a while, but she was willing to give up what she had to in order to thrive.

The Kingdom of Golgaroch knew of her affinity, yes, but they didn't exactly comprehend it. Like shadows and mist in their mind, they avoided it altogether until the Struggle would begin. That was when the real powers came into play, the royals would say: strength, elemental manipulation and sensing death or being aware of its presence. Saelia's affinity was... new. Different. Unique.

The gods had either blessed her or cursed her. It was only a matter of time until she found out which one it was.

"Renya, is it?" Leopold's lips curved in a feral imitation of a smirk. "Many lovely ladies come here tonight, but none as lovely as yourself."

"I've heard similar words from many men, stranger," Renya spoke in that lyrical accent of a time long gone. "Can you live up to the standards I have set for my potential groom?"

"I'm sure I can." Another jovial smirk planted across his lips.

Saelia strode swiftly away from them before she interrupted something she didn't particularly wish to witness. Her head was spinning and she was blaming it on the night: her father, Renya, Leopold and especially that mage and the lady who'd slipped off into some bedroom to finish off what they'd started, she guessed.

She grunted, taking no cares that someone might hear.

Does any other royal bastard wish to disturb my presence? she thought, a question she'd hoped she would never have to ask herself again.

The chandelier lights, the conversation, the talk of the Struggle—it was all too much for her to handle, a shadow that she could not escape for the sake of the kingdom on her shoulders. Her head was pounding with an increasingly overwhelming headache and she feared for the people her father lorded over like some autocratic devil. The Lord of the North would not rest tonight until he finished his bidding with the court, however, and these foolishly planned events.

Saelia stumbled into her bedroom chambers, locked the door shut behind her and tossed herself onto the four-poster, gold-gilded bed.The curtains to her left swayed in the night breeze, open to the elements as much as they were to the balcony. Similar to the Pavilion, she supposed. A struggle to sleep at night with the wind, yes, but...

Struggle. The Struggle. Did she have a plan? She'd originally hoped that she would just turn up, use negative, possibly harmful emotions on the other two Competitors, making them fight each other to the death. Alas, she would win. However, now that she thought on it away from the din of the court, that plan wouldn't work.

The other Competitors could be training for the Struggle right now. They could be donning weaponry, gathering equipment and steeling their multitudinous affinities before battling a brutal battle at the Collegium. She sighed, that night breeze doing wonders to her headache.

The plan snapped into her mind, like it shifted during her use of her affinity. She would train.

She would continuously train, use her emotional manipulation against others who were willing to help her. Perhaps she could find the stablehand she'd befriended and tell him about it. Perhaps she could head down to the library and search for some tomes and volumes on her strange power. Perhaps—perhaps she could win this Struggle and... what? Save her kingdom from inevitable collapse? Help the realm? Would this put other kingdoms into distress of unimaginable extents?

She let the thoughts drift off into oblivion, just as she did while sleep claimed her in its swift, deep ways.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would buckle down and train.
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  #23  
Old 01-03-2019, 04:23 PM
FrostBittenKitten FrostBittenKitten is offline
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Originally Posted by maxi View Post
(Holy shite I'm so sorry this is so long!!!! Also what are you hoping to do before the Struggle begins? Are they both gonna be training their powers and themselves as the time comes for them to fight at the Collegium? Are there going to be sub-plots? Should we maybe add a character each to get more story rolling in, maybe the South? Or are we gonna wait for more people to join the NES? Just wondering!)
(It's cool, I enjoy your writing! As far as what I want to accomplish before the actual Struggle, I don't really have a definite plan. I just kind of want to show a bit of his character and his resignation to taking place in the trials as well as the current state of Aldsea. The idea of training sounds good to me. I also like the idea of subplots and can think of a subplot or two I could work into my writing. Yeah I kind of just added some random characters in for Beck to make it more interesting and stuff, but I really hope we can get one more person to be the competitor from the South.)
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  #24  
Old 01-03-2019, 05:00 PM
maxi maxi is offline
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Originally Posted by FrostBittenKitten View Post
(It's cool, I enjoy your writing! As far as what I want to accomplish before the actual Struggle, I don't really have a definite plan. I just kind of want to show a bit of his character and his resignation to taking place in the trials as well as the current state of Aldsea. The idea of training sounds good to me. I also like the idea of subplots and can think of a subplot or two I could work into my writing. Yeah I kind of just added some random characters in for Beck to make it more interesting and stuff, but I really hope we can get one more person to be the competitor from the South.)
(Yeah! I was actually thinking of showing some more of Golgaroch. I'm not sure how I'm going to do that yet but I'm sure I can figure a way to do so. Yeah I'm hoping for more people to join but I guess I'll just have to wait and see. I might add some more characters and show some court intrigue and stuff like that before the Struggle begins. Perhaps some more information on the mysterious West.)
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What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and
Girls in white dresses and
Sleeping with roaches and
Taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and
Before all the stains
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  #25  
Old 01-03-2019, 05:09 PM
FrostBittenKitten FrostBittenKitten is offline
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It seemed as if the world pressed closer to Beck, squeezing him in. His breathing turned more shallow, though he thought himself a very decent actor when it came to hiding his discomfort, since he was uncomfortable during most formal gatherings. Lady Ashira looked downright predatory at this moment in her intricate pale pink gown, her skirts swaying gracefully around her in a cloud of fabric. He had to pretend he couldn't obviously see her intentions towards gleaning information from him.

"That's not talk fit for a future king, now is it?" Lady Ashira asked, trying to trap him with her words. What she didn't realize was that Beck was already trapped by the suffocating air of the ballroom and the closeness of the noblewoman he was dancing with.

"I suppose not, but a future king can talk how he wants, can he not?" Beck parried. Another mistake. He knew very well that he could not talk how he wanted, and that if his uncle had a child he would not be next in line for the throne (though the chances of that were low, seeing as how his uncle's hair was getting grayer by the day). He just wished that he knew what to do to fix this mess he was getting himself into.

"Well a future king must conduct himself in the correct manner, or else the nobles may well overthrow him one day," Lady Ashira mused. Beck recoiled.

"Is that a threat?" he demanded.

"Of course not, who would I be to threaten Aldsea's future king?" she rebutted, though her eyes told a different story. This night was not going well at all. Luckily, the song had come to end, as Beck was desperate to escape Lady Ashira's grasp.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some important business to attend to," he said, his eyes darting to the balcony, where he could get a breath of the crisp night air. It seemed to call to him, and if he didn't have such a firm grasp on his teleportation ability, he would have teleported there right now.

"Of course, Your Highness," Lady Ashira replied, knowing how unfitting the title was. She only slightly loosened her hands on his shoulders, and Beck brushed her off as politely and kingly as possible before walking away much slower than he wished he could. He only glanced back one time to see Lady Ashira watching him with a feral smile that she made little effort to hide. Either she was a pitiful actress, or she didn't care. He hoped it was the former, or at the least a cavalier attitude and not Lady Ashira being certain that Beck would never sit on the throne.

Beck finally reached the balcony, having some semblance of being alone. He took a deep breath of the cool air, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of his chest. A refreshing breeze that seemed almost too perfect blew his messy hair into his eyes. Beck leaned against the balcony's railing, his elbows resting on the carefully carved spirals. His claustrophobia was a secret he kept so well, only his mother could tell that he was the slightest bit uncomfortable, though even she didn't know what it truly was. Most people just thought he was aloof or shy, not distant because he couldn't stand being so close to so many bodies. Of course the political pressures and the crumbling state of Aldsea weren't entirely blameless, either.

Maybe there was a chance if he won the Struggle that Aldsea could be what it once was. Back before Beck's uncle Largyen was king, and even before his mother Andine was queen. Before the nation had begun to crumble. Beck sighed as he realized that his vision would not come to pass until something happened in the West. When the threat of the West began to evolve was truly when Aldsea had begun its deterioration. But what could one boy possibly do to make any sort of difference in regards to that? At least if he won the Struggle he could cause a halt on the destruction of his kingdom. He had to.

But Beck knew absolutely nothing about the other competitors and, while he knew bits and pieces about the other two kingdoms in the contest, he didn't know what was necessary to win. And what was vital in winning? He wished he knew. He had been training in his teleportation abilities all his life, and he knew that alone would not be enough. Tomorrow, and every day until the Struggle, he would learn all about his opponents and then train until his muscles were aching and his head hurt. He had to fix his kingdom. There was no other alternative. He had to try. There wasn't room for failure. There never was.

"Beck?" a voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned rapidly to see who was speaking, cursing himself for not being on guard. Thankfully, it was only his aunt Pyhhra, Largyen's wife. She was an intimidating woman, but the effect had been all but lost on Beck long ago, seeing as she was far more kind than most people assumed. Her long, chocolate brown hair was in a carefully constructed updo, and her shoulderless scarlet gown fit her snugly. Though she was still beautiful, it was getting difficult not to notice how her lovely hair was turning gray, or the wrinkles on her face, or the tiredness in her eyes. Despite everything, Queen Pyhhra still cut an imposing figure.

"Aunt Pyhhra!" Beck exclaimed. "Good to see you."

"You see me every day," his aunt responded with amusement. "You look worried."

"As do you," Beck retorted. "Who isn't worried these days?"

Pyhhra sighed in acknowledgement. "I wish I could say you were wrong," she admitted. "But you haven't even been at the ball for more than a few minutes. How are you already this upset?"

"It's just the Struggle looming in the near future," Beck told her with a small, humorless smile. "I'm not ready." He would never have admitted this to anyone else--he didn't want to worry his mother and his uncle would have definitely found a way to prepare him that involved almost dying.

"Honey, no one is ready for the Struggle," his aunt replied in a more gentle tone of voice. "Having the courage to admit it makes you one step closer." Beck didn't see how that made any sense, but he was used to things not making sense in his life, so he didn't question it.

"I suppose so," Beck said. "Though I have so much more training to do before I can even truly decide how I'm going to go about it. I need a plan."

"Beck, what you need is some rest," Queen Pyhhra argued gently. "You tend to overthink things, and that will not help you in the contest. You need sleep to keep your mind sharp."

"Largyen doesn't seem to think so; he just wants me to dance with noblewomen to keep them and their families content," Beck sighed. "It's horrid. I really shouldn't be complaining about dancing though, of all things. In fact, I should probably go back to it. Maybe I really am dashing enough to keep things stable for now."

His aunt chuckled quietly. "Oh, Beck," she said, seeming a thousand miles away. "Go get some sleep. You need it." He sighed. His aunt was probably right; she was right about most things.

"Okay, Aunt Pyrhha," he agreed.
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  #26  
Old 01-03-2019, 05:10 PM
FrostBittenKitten FrostBittenKitten is offline
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Originally Posted by maxi View Post
(Yeah! I was actually thinking of showing some more of Golgaroch. I'm not sure how I'm going to do that yet but I'm sure I can figure a way to do so. Yeah I'm hoping for more people to join but I guess I'll just have to wait and see. I might add some more characters and show some court intrigue and stuff like that before the Struggle begins. Perhaps some more information on the mysterious West.)
(That'd be cool.)
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will i ever be more than i've always been

tap, tap, tapping on the glass

Waving through a window
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  #27  
Old 01-03-2019, 07:41 PM
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oh shoot i completely forgot about this! It's still okay for me to jump in, right?

Name: Lorelei Mardens

Age: 17

Appearance: She has tan skin and lovely glossy chestnut hair, which falls about midway down her back in gentle waves. Her eyes are a brown so dark it feels that they could swallow light itself. She is lean but very well-muscled, 5’7, and although her steps and gestures are quiet something in the way she holds herself demands to be respected.

Personality: Bitter and contemplative, she is always yearning for a life that can’t be hers. She has no taste for the politics and fighting she has been so reluctantly dragged into, but will fight for her people until her final, bloody breath. She is not the most sociable, but so long as you don’t bore her she won’t actively avoid you. She burns with a fire inside, and she welcomes any chances she gets to release it- whether through debates, sparring, or a shock of her powers. She is quiet, fierce, but beneath it all she is warm, like the wildfire that licks through her veins.

Power: She can summon and control fire, but she avoids it as much possible as she hates the destruction it wreaks on her surroundings, even though keeping it within her burns her from the inside. Because she avoids using it, she has yet to get a solid grasp on control of her powers.

Hey so if any of you have a spot for a servant, friend, etc i'd be psyched to make some mini characters to interact with yours!
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  #28  
Old 01-03-2019, 08:42 PM
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Fire. It’s always the fire.

She watched it from her seat at the large banquet table. They were celebrating something, though Lorelei wasn’t sure what. She could never pay attention to their words, their feasts and balls and masked sneers. The fire, it drew her attention, forever and always. Fire, she thought, could never be a good thing.

It was, for others, that thing which seduced them, drew them forward endlessly in a search for warmth, power, a beautiful future, like moths toward a flame. They would fly to it blindly, mistaking its cruelty for warmth, and would inevitably be swallowed up in its burning tendrils. To Lorelei, however, it was the lighthouse, steering her away from the rocks. Where there was fire, Lorelei knew to flee.

She saw fire in them, the nobles. They were both the flame and the wood, the hunter and the prey. They danced and swayed and nipped at each other, alluring in their ways but waiting for the moment when they could devour you, and grow upon your ashes. Lorelei avoided the bonfire that was politics. It was easy some days, hard others. But even still, their fire was never as deadly as the one scorching her own skin.

A voice tore her thoughts away from the flickering flames, and she glanced to her left, spots of light lingering in her gaze. She imagined it smoldered them too, to meet her gaze still as hot as a freshly forged blade. Her brother, however, did not flinch. That was fine. He was used to the blaze.

“Lorelei,” he admonished, voice rough as though he had been swallowing down the ashes of those he vanquished in the burning court. “pull yourself together. We’re here to strengthen our influence over the nobles, not chase them away with your frigid glare.”

Frigid, brother? Lorelai laughed in her mind. I could not be one with the ice even if I laid myself to sleep in the snows of the North. Even in death, I have no doubt that magma will spill from my wounds and my body will burn endlessly, even when everything else is gone, and only the heat remains.

Outwardly, she smiled placidly. “As you say, brother.”

The room was filled with the noises of eating. Silverware clinking, drinks sloshing in their glasses, the quiet murmur of a hundred conversations from a hundred nosy nobles. It drove her insane, an endless clatter that clawed at her ears. It was then that she realized her mood was more than just angst and bitterness today. Today was one of those days where the fire rose up and sloshed out of her blood, bubbling up to escape, scrambling to direct itself in any direction. It seemed that Bernard had come to this realization as well, for beneath the table he clasped her fingers in his, and it grounded her, even though she knew his veins burnt with molten too. It felt almost as though the contact was sucking the overwhelmingness of it all out of her, until her skin no longer felt tight and she could pick out individual conversations once more.

He released her hand and stood, straightening the collar of his dressy outfit. His plate is empty, and so Is most everyone else’s. She dimly realized that the whole dinner had passed her by, and couldn’t care to pretend that it upset her. The guests filtered through the door, and she knew therewere many suitors lingering to speak with her, so she hid away on a balcony until Bernard came to fetch her.

“Lorelei,” he says, hesitantly. It’s not like him to hesitate. She knows it, and her arms tense. “Lorelei,” he syas again, voice quiet but worried. “mother has asked me to travel to the North. She wants me to meet the competitor there, and gather some intelligence. But I know that day is approaching, and I know how you get. If you need me... that is to say, if you’d like me to stay...”

She cut him off with a firm but silent wave of her hand. They both know he is lying through his teeth. Regrdless of how supportive he does or doesn’t want to be, her twin, favored as he is, wouldn’t dare try to argue with the monarch.

“Go,” She said, and they both pretended her tone isn’t laced with venom. “Run along on mother’s little errand. I have no need of you here.” It’s not true, of course, but she says it anyway. Anything to get him to leave her alone already. His warmth, while admittedly comforting in that stuffy room, now sucks away the cold crisp air that she had been enjoying.

He left and she sucked in another breath, the fresh air coaxing memories to the front of her mind. Wet moss beneath her feet, branches tangled in her hair, a laugh bubbling from somewhere within the trees. She shook her abruptly, disrupting the flow. No, not yet. She would not allow herself to fall apart yet. That day, that anniversary was fast approaching, but she would not crumble until that day, when she would inevitably burst into phoenix flames once more.

She gazed up at the stars, and wondered if it would finally be colder when she reached them.



(I started writing in first person by accident halfway through and had to rush to fix it so sorry if its icky)

(also I’m really sorry it’s probably not great, I'm kind of rusty at writing in general and I haven’t written something like this before. Looking forward to it though!)
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  #29  
Old 01-03-2019, 11:10 PM
FrostBittenKitten FrostBittenKitten is offline
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(Hi Norah! I like the idea of mini character interactions, and I'd be cool with you making someone for Beck to interact with and you want I'd like to make someone for Lorelei to interact with as well! Actually, I'd be cool to do a minor character for both Saelia and Lorelei to interact with until our characters meet each other! I'm so pumped for this NES!)
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  #30  
Old 01-03-2019, 11:16 PM
Steampunk Steampunk is offline
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(Hi Norah! I like the idea of mini character interactions, and I'd be cool with you making someone for Beck to interact with and you want I'd like to make someone for Lorelei to interact with as well! Actually, I'd be cool to do a minor character for both Saelia and Lorelei to interact with until our characters meet each other! I'm so pumped for this NES!)
Sweet, sounds good. Any particular kind of person you’d like/would be easy to make interact with him? Like personality and position wise
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beck can like get it, beck for the win, i love angst, lorelei more like lorebye, luna was here, saelia?? is??? pure????

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