Organizational blog for the great monstrosity known as Anryuu Epic. Tbh, this is here because I want to talk to people about it, and I don't think I can do that without having a LOT of info readily available. What is this?
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After the meeting, Regana and Aphri are alone. Everyone else has gone on their way— Regana herself isn’t quite sure why she lingers. The atmosphere in the conference room is heavy with tension. They’ve done this before. It never ends well. Not when there’s such a bitter grudge taking up space between them.
Aphri, as usual, has a thick stack of paperwork in front of her. She’s thumbing through pages, inking in signatures and notes here and there, absorbed in her own little world as if Regana might as well not exist.
Just as the urge to say something starts to boil over, a pen hits the floor.
Its slick metal surface rolls over to rest near Regana’s feed. “Excuse me, Miss Exousia. Would you please be so kind as to pick that up for me?” Aphri asks, polite and neutral and even-toned as always. Infuriatingly calm.
Regana picks up the pen. “What do you think you’re trying to pull? Is this some excuse to look down on me?” she snarls, and slams it back to the table.
Aphri looks up at her, all wide, placid blue eyes. “Of course not. I’m grateful that you take the time to attend these meetings; I know we’re not on the best of terms in our personal lives. Your cooperation is much appreciated.”
Every time she looks at that face, all Regana can see is her mother’s killer. The late Queen Delphi is dead and gone, but her remnants linger in the most frustrating of places. There’s no escaping what she did. Aphri holds a legacy that Regana wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy— how unfortunate, that such a mild, submissive girl is the one whose shoulders must bear the weight of the crown.
But it seems, somehow, that Aphri always has a way of getting what she wants. It doesn’t always look like what she wants from an outward glance, but she’s sneaky. Her goals are quiet things, and she always walks away satisfied.
“You’re using me again, aren’t you?” Regana spits back. “There has to be a reason why you want me here— I know what you’re like. What political enemy are you threatening with my presence now, hm? Am I enough of a deterrent to keep Everald’s boy from showing his smug face at your table?”
The problem with Aphri Novus is that one can never really know why she’s doing something, never be quite sure what she wants. A hollow person with no goals of her own, she’s always reaching for things just out of sight.
Aphri smiles mildly. It’s not a happy thing, just a polite, deliberate gesture twisting at her lips. “Of course not, Miss Exousia. I merely value your participation in these trying times. There’s no ulterior motive.”
Lies. Regana can’t spot the untruth, but she knows it’s there. Gritting her teeth, she storms out of the room before she can really lose her temper.
Just as it’s always been with this girl, she knows she’s being used.
@unwholesomeocweek Day 5: "Unethical Experimentation/Possessive Behavior"
TW: Slavery, power imbalance
The leading actress is a little Daryan lady who favors purple ballgowns with skirts that swim around her like a rippling, lavender pool. Daryan. Tiny, with a voice that carries across auditoriums and seemingly not a shred of fear or self-preservation in her body. Phantasmagoria Odiar is her name, and for whatever reason, she’s decided that Benn is her new favorite toy.
“Now, after this scene, we’ll hold the next battle. Throw some extras into the ring, see if the monster leaves them in one piece.” She calls out stage directions and storyline tweaks with a wild smile carved across her pretty face, laughing daintily at the prospect of some poor extras getting mauled.
Benn hates her. He thinks Cairo does too— and that part is saying something. Cairo doesn’t hate anyone, not even the people who keep him in cages, sell out on his image while he’s left as nothing more than a freak show.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says anyway, obediently, grinning back with his odd, blackened fangs. A consummate professional to the end.
Benn can’t hold back his own grimace. They’ve been here all day, with Phantasmagoria barking orders and rearranging things on stage time and time again, in search of some unplaceable perfection that Benn wants no part in.
Phantasmagoria is richer than she knows what to do with, richer than some poor nobody like him can even begin to comprehend. She’s from a noble house, real important folks, with the money to buy and sell people as she pleases. She could have anyone, and yet, she’s obsessed with him.
Twirling closer, Phantasmagoria catches Benn’s chin in one dainty palm. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be sure to give you some scenes to shine in,” she purrs, stroking over his skin with sharpened nails. “I can’t wait to see how you do...”
Benn resists every urge to pull away. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the opportunities. I’m most grateful,” he parrots compliantly, saying what he must.
Is that why she’s doing all of this? A whole performance, meant to feed into her inexplicable fixation on him? They’ve been running through rehearsal details for hours, and the twists she’s planning are sure to come with a body count. Every time her gaze lands on him, Benn feels cold down to his fingertips, heartbeat fluttering with the instinctive urge to flee.
Cairo sidles up to him while Phantasmagoria is distracted by someone else. “Hang in there, buddy,” he whispers, voice low and hushed. “Some of ‘em are crazy, the bosses here. She’ll get bored of you eventually.”
He talks like he’s experienced it before, but Benn hardly feels reassured. There’s something weird about this. He doubts she’d let go so easily.
Phantasmagoria calls out to one of the staff members lingering on the fringes of her in-progress show. Her pretty voice cuts sharp and nasty as she chews the man out for some small flaw in Benn’s costuming. Eugh.
Orcus’s grip on her wrist is bruising as he drags her back to their shared room. Proserpina doesn’t fight it. When he’s in this kind of mood... he needs to keep her close. She can’t refuse him. She’d never want to.
The door slams behind them. He pulls her to the bed and shoves her back, and Proserpina collapses obediently onto it. There’s no use fighting it, or begging him to be gentle. He’s so far lost in his own head that he wouldn’t hear her pleas— let alone care to oblige them. It’s best to comply, to let the mood pass.
Orcus tears at her jacket, trying to rip it off her shoulders and away. Buttons pop, seams strain. Proserpina twists to let him tug it off her arms.
When she’s left in only the plain, white dress shirt underneath, he deems that satisfactory and crumples into her arms. Like a marionette with cut strings— one moment he’s towering above her, the next, he’s limp and nuzzling into the space between her arms. “Proserpina...” he mumbles, muffled where his face is shoved against her chest. “You c-can’t leave me... I need you.”
A second later, she hears the wet sniffle of tears.
Proserpina folds her arms around him in a gentle hug and lets him cry. He clings on tight, nails digging into her back viciously enough to leave little bloody crescents even through the cloth. By now, she already knows what those marks will look like. She’s born the scabs and scars countless times over the years.
“Never,” she assures him. “I’ll be with you forever. No one can take me away.” She knows what words he wants to hear; their sounds are familiar on her lips, like vows repeated every time he starts to fear her abandonment.
She’s everything to Orcus. From the time she was brought into his life in their childhood, she’s been the only thing keeping him sane. She loves him. He needs her. She has nothing without him, and he’d fall apart without her. What’s a little pain in the face of fulfilling her purpose? She’s a lifeline to him. She’s the safe place that prevents him from breaking down entirely.
“Don’t you dare—!” he snarls, still sobbing. There are tears soaking the front of her shirt. His weight crushes down on her rib cage.
But Proserpina understands. She knows how much he needs her, knows the purpose she serves. He only acts like this because he’s the one in pain.
Time passes. Minutes blur together in a haze of stroking Orcus’s hair and shushing him while he cries. He only clings tighter— eventually, he leans up and sinks his teeth into her shoulder, just to feel her flinch and gasp.
That hurts, she wants to say. She doesn’t dare. Telling him no means that she’s dissatisfied. If she’s dissatisfied, it means she wants to leave him. He can use her body as he pleases, cause her any amount of pain, if that will make him understand that she loves him, that she’s never going to leave.
@unwholesomeocweek Day 3: Corruption/Power Imbalance
TW: Blood/gore, amputation, human trafficking/slavery
Ran is lucky that she doesn’t have to attend these meetings, Asagi thinks. His older sister is so hyper-competent that their father doesn’t think she needs his lessons anymore. Not like the rest of them, who have to stand out on a frigid training field first thing in the morning, waiting for whatever concept Oros has decided needs to be drilled into their heads this time.
His brothers don’t look any happier to be here than Asagi feels. ...well, Stali and Hakuren seem enthusiastic enough, but that’s normal for the two overachievers. Their hyped is everyone else’s miserable.
“Wonder what he wants to show us so badly...” Kaito mumbles, sounding somewhere between irritated and half-asleep.
“Who knows? I wish we could go back inside, already,” is Asagi’s complaining reply. Satski is waiting inside. Anything else is a waste of time.
When their father finally appears, he’s dragging a beaten man by the hair. One of their merchandise, Asagi realizes, and abruptly snaps to attention. “This one—” Oros announces in that deep, booming voice that means business, “—thought that it’d be a good idea to try to get away from us last night.”
Ah, an escape attempt. Those never go over well. Beside Asagi, Kaito rolls his eyes. Stali is standing at attention now, and Hakuren has a distinctly rabid look in his eyes. Great. Two out of four are now absolutely captivated.
“Now remember, boys, he’s one of our better pieces this time around. Good-quality merchandise. We didn’t want him getting damaged,” Oros explains, as if the rest of them would dare to forget. “Your sister even found us a buyer, one that paid in advance... but, it wouldn’t reflect very well on our establishment to let this kind of disrespect slide, you know? That just wouldn’t work out.”
A wide, dangerous smile creeps across their father’s face as he talks. Excitement at the prospect of what he’s about to do to his unfortunate captive, no doubt. Oros always punishes harshly, rules his stock with an iron fist.
Releasing his grip on the man’s hair, he’s thrown roughly to the ground. Oros then reaches for the sword at his hip. “We’ll refund the difference if we have to, boys. Right now, our reputation is at stake. This is how you teach ‘em!”
He swings, and severs the man’s foot at the ankle. There’s no time to beg for mercy— the pain hits in an instant, and leaves him howling.
“See, now he won’t be getting any funny ideas about running away!” Oros laughs, grinning wider as he shakes the blood off his blade. “You four can have your fun with him now. Rough him up good, make sure he learns his lesson.”
As Hakuren and Stali turn on the now-crippled man, Asagi raises his hand. “Father, I’d like to be excused. Satski is waiting for me back inside.”
Kaito chimes in. “Me too. The meatheads have it covered out here.”
“Alright, alright, fine. You two are excused,” Oros grins, back to boisterously good-natured like some invisible switch had flipped. “Thanks for paying attention out here. These things are important lessons to know. Gotta learn how to run the business before somebody does your old man in!”
Asagi thinks, personally, that his father is the kind of man who might not ever die. He’s too large, too loud, too powerful. How could anyone take him down?
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TW: Grooming (non-sexual), manipulation, harm to children, referenced character death
The girl is young. She was abandoned too early to know exactly how old she is, but Tasalya would venture eight or nine at the latest. And just like Tasalya did at that age, she stares up at Cassius with adoration-filled wonder.
“It’ll hardly be painful at all,” he assures her, in that gentle, patient voice he uses for people who are getting so very close to understanding some obvious truth. “And you’re a strong one, aren’t you? You can endure a little bit of discomfort for me. I know you can. That’s why I’m choosing you, you know. You’re special. I trust that you can give everything you have to aid me.”
As expected, the girl nods. The prospect of being special to someone always makes people more willing to do what Cassius wants, but Tasalya knows the words aren’t just empty flattery. Cassius only trusts special people, in the first place. There are a select few who are worthy of joining in his plans.
At least this girl seems to understand that. She tips her cheek into Cassius’s wide, warm palm with a worshipful smile tugging at her lips, nodding along to everything he says as if just hearing him speak is an honor.
“If... if my life becomes yours,” she starts, quiet and unsure, “that will help you, won’t it? You’ll be better off because I was here?”
“Of course. And I’ll be ever so thankful to you for it.”
The Life Machine is a magnificent contraption of tubes, pumps, and inner workings that harvests a subject’s potential life energy through the medium of Aura, where it can then be transferred to someone else. The subject’s lifespan decreases by a proportional amount of years as the recipient will then gain. The exact means of its function is more complicated than Tasalya comprehends, but in theory, using the energy it creates could give someone immortal life— at the cost, of course, of however many subjects must die to sustain it.
That’s Cassius’s goal— an unceasing, unchanging existence, free at last from the fear of having everything he’s worked for torn away. This girl will be a sacrifice for that cause, just as every one that comes after her will be.
A part of Tasalya hates to see it happen. Children are the most suitable subjects, with so much life left ahead of them. Using them while they’re young will minimize the number of people who ultimately have to pay the dearest price. She knows that, but... the prospect still doesn’t sit well.
Cassius has a way of making people see the worth in serving him. Once they come to know him, they’d give up anything he asked. Tasalya is no different. She’d sacrifice her life in a heartbeat if he had use of it.
This girl will die satisfied that her brief, cruel life had a purpose. She was useful. She was wanted. Those are greater comforts than the average abandoned orphan is afforded. She’ll live out her last few weeks captivated with the kindness Cassius has given her, happy as can be to lie down for the slaughter.
Cassius needs this. That’s reason enough why it has to be done.
Tw: Blood, gore, attempted murder, aftermath of an explosion, character death (sort of).
The first thing that Draco notices is the smell. Gunpowder. Dust and rubble. Blood. It hangs heavy and acrid in his nose, fills up his lungs until every breath takes in more pollution and scent than clean air.
The room is caved in. There’s a hole in the ceiling that lets in the evening breeze. Chunks of debris form a teetering tower, a haphazardly stacked, blunt-topped spire with inky red seeping out between the crevices. Blood. Coppery and sharp. And if Aracaan wasn’t here, wasn’t the one trapped in the blast, then who—?
Draco’s veins freeze over. Clammy sweat gathers on his palms.
Soldiers scurry around like roaches, looking for evidence, cleaning up the aftermath of the explosion that tore the room in two. Draco hardly registers their faces. None of them matters. None of this matters. Aracaan isn’t dead.
He stumbles through the warzone scene on shaky legs, eyes scanning every detail for any sign of a body. Someone got hurt. Who did he hurt?
Finally, his gaze lands on an off-white tangle of hair.
Admaris.
Draco’s vision swims. There are medics huddled around her, moving her body, clearing away debris. There’s blood, so much blood, puddled beneath her and smeared across her crumpled form. Her clothes are torn and burned. Her face is streaked with soot. Her eyes are closed, and her body is ripped open like a stuffed toy torn apart at the seams. Shiny, ragged flesh, glistening insides ripped wide apart and bared to the gunpowder-heavy air. She’s not moving.
His throat closes up and strangles a scream before it can escape. Someone is talking to him, but Draco can’t make out the words. This isn’t right. This isn’t what he was trying to do. Aracaan was supposed to be here tonight, so why is Admaris the one bleeding on the ground—?
This isn’t how it was supposed to go. This isn’t what he wanted. Aracaan was the problem, the one who needed to disappear. Draco couldn’t keep on living knowing that the person who always overshadowed him still held the throne. He had to do something, anything, even if it was wrong. Annavelle would be a fine queen even without her husband in the way. They already had children, heirs.
He would have been executed for the crime, no doubt, but even that would have been fine. Admaris is strong enough to carry out without him.
Except, now it’s her broken body on the floor. She’s not breathing, someone yells. Draco’s throat goes tight. The walls twist and warp in the panicked sway of utter dread creeping over him. He wants to run to her, hold her before she’s taken away, but does he have the right, when he’s the one at fault?
If Aracaan doesn’t kill him for this, he’ll end his own life to atone. If Admaris is gone, he shouldn’t keep existing in this world either.
She’s gone, isn’t she? He ruined everything. Annavelle won’t forgive him for this. Aracaan might finally decide he’s worth hating. If he turns himself in, he can do one thing right, now that it’s too late for anything else to be saved.
By the time the weather starts getting warm again, Lillianne has settled into her new role.
Allat’s absence is still more present than she’d expected, remembered in half-hearted reminders and quick flashes of thought whenever something triggers a memory of the person who’s no longer there, but Lillianne likes her new authority enough to more than make up for it.
It’s what Allat would have wanted, anyway— the strongest person available running the show.
Her life becomes one of strategy, of planning, of making decisions for herself and for others to keep everyone alive and prospering.
Mervyn brings documents and reports, discusses supply lines and resources, consults with her on where they should go to follow the trail of prosperity and stay out of the way of larger, stronger gangs.
Lillianne learns that their group has allies, others of their own that they’re on good terms with and whose paths are safe to cross. She learns that the group avoids larger towns (too many people, too much to fight at once), but that a small handful of villages are willing to pay a fee up front to avoid the potential conflict of a raid.
She learns how to manage equipment, how to keep track of who has what, and what things will need to be repaired or replaced and when. She learns how to ration out meals and how to make sure that everyone gets their fair share of spoils and daily allotments alike.
There’s more detail work involved than she would have expected, more little things that she has to be aware of than it had seemed while watching Allat work from a distance.
Some parts are difficult.
Mervyn has to give her lessons in mathematics and economics, and he jams in studies on history, warfare, and politics on the side. It’s the closest thing to schooling Lillianne has had since she was back in Dinah’s classroom all those years ago, and she finds she doesn’t mind it. She’s not good at it, but it’s bearable.
She learns. These things are important. They’ll get her somewhere. This time, there’s a reason to pay attention that’s for her own sake, not just following along with where someone else sent her.
What are Lillianne's main goals? Do you think she has what it takes to reach them, or will she fall short in her endeavors?
Lillianne’s main goal depends heavily on what part of her life she’s in. Pre-immortality (as in, pretty much all of what Survival At All Costs covers), she’s aiming mostly for power, personal achievement, and material success. And she does very well for herself at getting those things! If not for the whole immortality issue, she probably could have had a very satisfying life working for what she wants. She really is cut out for that kind of life.
Post-immortality, however, Lillianne’s goals change pretty dramatically. After a few hundred years of fucking around and doing more or less what she had before that point (just much more reckless and independently), she finally starts to realize the long-term consequences of her situation. At that point, she just wants to be dead. And while that stays her goal for quite a while after, there’s nothing she can do to actually accomplish it. The circumstances of her being able to die or not are entirely out of her control. In that sense, she’s doomed to fall short of her goals over and over again. She has what she wanted from the start (survival, the ability to have good things for herself), but those things have lost their appeal. She’s cursed with getting what she’d always longed for, and she hates it.
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The rest of the group adjusts to the change in leadership with little fanfare. Mervyn talks Lillianne into making an announcement (advising, as he phrases it), where she informs the rest of them that Allat is gone and that she’s the one in charge now.
And that’s it. One victory, then one little speech, and everyone recognizes her newfound authority. It almost feels too easy.
“It’s happened before,” Mervyn explains with a bitter shrug. “Allat took her position the same way. If anyone’s been here long enough, I’m sure they remember that’s what happened last time.”
“Although you’d best watch your back,” he adds. “You don’t yet have the same reputation that our former leader did. You may have beaten her, but someone here might decide that you seem like an easy victory next, and try to take your position while it seems like a simpler task.”
“If anyone tries, I’ll kill them too,” is Lillianne’s blunt response.
Mervyn sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “At least you have the right personality for the job...”
There’s a certain invisible tension between them, as if he’s resisting the urge to scold her like he would have before she’d earned a rank for herself. Like he has to willfully hold his tongue or risk falling into old habits that are no longer allowed.
“What do I have to do now?” she asks.
“You’ve seen most of her work already, but I’ll fill you in on Allat’s behind-the-scenes duties. We can go over finances and logistics tomorrow... after you get patched up. You won’t be of any use to anyone while you’re still limping around like that.”
Despite his vaguely disgusted tone, Mervyn is already scribbling away in the little record book he always keeps on his person, planning out the group’s future in graphite and ink.
He may not like her, but Lillianne trusts him to do his job.
Role: The former queen of the Daryan country. A vibrant, powerful woman whose unique abilities led to mental instability in her later years. The mother of Admaris and Aracaan, she disappeared without a trace, leaving her successor to take up the throne with no warning or time to prepare.
Affiliation: Daryan Royal Family, Palace Guard
Gender: Female
Age: 51 (at time of disappearance)
Height: 5’10
Appearance: Eleanor was a tall woman with a sturdy, athletic build. She had pale skin, white eyes, and a vibrant smile. Her hair was waist-length, straight, white, and streaked through with crimson, and most often worn up in a high, messy ponytail. She most often wore light armor or practical clothing otherwise suited for high activity and potential combat.
Personality: Eleanor was straightforward, reliable, and determined. She was a strong leader who thrived when people placed their faith in her, and who had the willpower to make hard choices when the times called for it. Outside of formal situations, she was easygoing, friendly, and difficult to offend. Due to her intense self-confidence, she could laugh off even direct insults. Her unique perspective on pre-determined events and the flow of time made her unusually grounded and calm, with a belief that she should take on one problem at a time and focus only on things that she could change. She had an undefeatable positive attitude, and resilient, enduring optimism that the events around her would somehow work out for good.
Positive Traits: Eleanor was calm, level-headed, and hard to disturb. She could handle tense situations and tough choices with a grounded, rational mind, and she believed in focusing her energy toward a solvable problem rather than wasting time on worries. Both physically and mentally, she was an exceedingly resilient person. Good-natured and cheerful, nothing seemed to get her down for very long, and her confidence looked all but effortless. She was honest, up-front, and direct, yet far from confrontational.
Negative Traits: Eleanor had such great confidence in herself and in the belief that events would work out for the best that she often came across as insensitive or dense. She was strikingly independent and expected the same of her children. She believed in only worrying about problems that one could do something to solve, and had a bad habit of brushing off other people’s concerns in favor of directing herself toward a more productive task. She was willing to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of her country.
History: Before Annavelle and Aracaan’s rule, Eleanor was the ruling queen. Her husband had died when both of their children were still fairly young, so she was the primary parent and role model that Admaris and Aracaan knew when they were growing up. For most of her life, the war was in one of its less-active phases, right before Delphi took power on the Dzlethian side. When she was fifty-one, Eleanor suddenly went missing. With no clear explanation for what happened to her, she was later assumed to be dead.
Relationships: Eleanor’s relationships were generally positive, if a bit distant. She was outgoing, sociable, and easy to get along with, and she showed equals and subordinates alike the same inherent courtesy. However, she was also staunchly independent, and the people closest to her knew that she could be insensitive and gratingly aloof. Eleanor worked well with others, but disliked having to rely on them. She was well-respected by her peers and fellow rulers alike, and her children remember her fondly.
Interests: Eleanor liked complex literature, being physically active, and wide-open spaces outdoors. She disliked unnecessary worrying, extended periods of inactivity, and people who can’t admit when they’re wrong. Her hobbies included outdoor explorations and long flights by herself.
Abilities: Eleanor was a capable combatant, experienced, and well-trained in both magic and physical combat. Her strength and durability were her most notable assets— traits which she passed down to both of her children. She was also well-educated in strategy, both personal and on the scale of entire armies. During her lifetime, she was well known for her power.
Miscellaneous: Eleanor’s Time Mutation manifested early in her life— it allowed her to travel forward and backward through time at will, and then return to her current self as if no time had passed while she was gone. It was also the real reason for her disappearance; Aether poisoning finally got the better of her, and she started slipping in and out of different points in time, unable to think clearly enough to stop. Of her two children, she was closest with Aracaan, and he was also hit the hardest by her absence. She’d always had a bad feeling about Delphi ascending the Dzlethian throne.
Connotative Description: A strong leader whose unique perspective on the flow of time fed into her easygoing, cool-headed disposition. While she was an excellent queen, the mystery of her disappearance dominates her legacy.
Mervyn is the one who comes to find them, eventually. He must have noticed Allat had gone missing, and only now stumbled upon the results.
He stumbles up to the scene looking ready to launch into a lecture...
...but as he registers the sight in front of him, his face goes deathly pale.
“Y-You... You didn’t—” he stammers, panicked, gaze flickering from Lillianne’s bloodied self to the corpse of his former boss and back again.
“I won,” is Lillianne’s simple response. She shrugs with one shoulder on the side that doesn’t scream when she moves it. “That means I’m in charge now, doesn’t it?”
Mervyn’s expression turns nauseous. “...yes, I suppose it does. We’ll have to do something with the body... not let those ruffians back at camp raid her tent while we’re looking the other way...” He devolves into frantic muttering, then, and Lillianne starts to tune him out. She doesn’t care much for the bureaucratic side of things.
At some point, she’ll pick herself up off the ground, sheathe her sword, and limp back to camp. Mervyn will patch her wounds and debate the group’s next steps, his tone towards her now more respectful than it’s ever been before.
It will sink in, slowly, that she really did it. That the group is hers, and Allat is no more. That she won, and there’s nothing anyone here can do to take that from her.
Role: The younger brother of the current Daryan queen, and father of the crown princess, Asakiri. A bitter, hot-tempered man whose envy leaves him always dissatisfied with his own abilities and renown. The perpetrator of the failed assassination plot that led to Admaris’s decade-long coma.
Affiliation: Daryan Royal Family, Palace Guard
Gender: Male
Age: 40
Height: 5’7
Appearance: Draco is a fairly short man with a lean, petite build. He has pale skin and white eyes, and his expression seems to be permanently stuck in a nasty frown. His hair is straight, white, and chin-length, and usually worn in a style that covers one eye and part of his face. His fashion sense is sleek and practical, though he’s rather vain about “looking good”.
Personality: Draco is the kind of spiteful, bitter person who’s so deeply insecure that it bleeds into his ability to perceive and interact with other people. He’s so desperate to be great that he constantly examines and overthinks his every move, always afraid that someone’s looking down on him or not seeing him for the best he can be. Despite his prickly exterior, he’s extremely earnest, and even his nastiest actions are motivated by a deep desire to help his homeland thrive. He’s viciously determined when he sets his mind to something; he’ll pursue the same goal for years, if that’s what it takes to succeed. He’s extremely introverted, bordering on socially stunted, yet he’s fueled by external validation of his accomplishments.
Positive Traits: Draco’s pride rarely lets him show it, but he cares deeply for his loved ones. Despite his more difficult traits, he’s not manipulative; if anything, his blunt, brutal honesty works to his detriment. Whatever his goals may be, he dedicates himself to them in full. Most of the unfortunate parts of his personality, at their core, stem from an all-consuming desire to live up to the responsibilities placed on him and become a respectable person who can help guide his country to prosper and succeed.
Negative Traits: Draco is short-tempered, volatile, and holds long, nasty grudges. He’s deeply envious and insecure, and can’t stand having to stand by and watch someone more successful than he is. Highly introverted, he tends to retreat into himself and avoid uncomfortable interactions. He’s a poor communicator— even when his heart’s in the right place, his words come out all wrong. He hates opening up enough to show any vulnerability; even to his dearest loved ones, he wants to appear invincible.
History: As the second-born child of the non-ruling branch, Draco was raised to act as support for his sister, the future queen. Alongside his sister, Annavelle, he was raised to value responsibility and successful results, and trained to help manage a kingdom that could slip into peril again at any moment. Draco had a long-standing grudge against Aracaan, however, and his jealousy toward the king eventually boiled over. After his assassination attempt failed, he was spared death and exiled from the country instead.
Relationships: Draco’s relationships are often fraught with jealousy and poor communication. While he’s capable of being an effective leader, he often ends up too caught up in his own self-conscious envy to function at his best. He trusts his wife, Admaris, unconditionally, however, and operates at his peak when he’s by her side. He can also be much more cooperative when his sister is the one giving orders. Currently, after ten years of absence from his daughter’s life, he feels terribly awkward interacting with her.
Interests: Draco likes his family, being recognized for his skills, and looking good in front of others. He dislikes crowded social events, people he can’t be better than, and feeling underestimated. His hobbies include studying (especially history and biology) and outdoor explorations with Admaris.
Abilities: Draco is extremely well-versed in both physical combat and magic. He’s just as well-educated in strategy as his sister, but tends to get impatient when waiting for other people to carry out orders instead of doing it himself. Rather than the more traditional sword, his weapon of choice is a bladed polearm, and he specializes in Air-Element magic.
Miscellaneous: Draco’s assassination attempt against Aracaan was a poorly planned act of jealousy; that lack of planning was the primary reason why it failed, and why Admaris ended up the victim instead of her brother. During his exile, Draco fled to the Ghiasuli country, where he tried to lay low and avoid attention. He fully believes that Admaris is the best thing to have ever happened to him and is certain that his life would have been miserable without her. He far prefers numbers, data, and facts to fickle emotions and non-concrete ideals. As a child, he was quiet and painfully shy.
Connotative Description: A volatile, insecure, and short-tempered person who’s always looking at others and comparing himself. Caring at heart, yet too afraid of weakness to let his better nature shine through.
Role: The currently ruling queen of the Daryan country. A level-headed and logical, yet intense and dedicated woman whose strategic abilities have been instrumental in the progression of the final years of the 300-year war. Aracaan’s wife, and mother to Arassia, Anya, and Analaya.
Affiliation: Daryan Royal Family, Palace Guard
Gender: Female
Age: 44
Height: 5’4
Appearance: Annavelle is a fairly short woman with a slender, petite build. She has pale skin, white eyes, and straight, white hair that reaches past her hips, with short, evenly cut bangs in front. Her expressions are usually serious and severe, the effect of which is somewhat offset by softer features. She favors formal styles of clothing; dignified, yet not excessively opulent.
Personality: Annavelle is level-headed, logic-minded, and practical. In any given situation, she focuses on the most efficient means of getting “from point A to point B” and prioritizes her actions based on the answer. She’s confident and calm in a crisis, and has a sound idea of her own abilities and skills. While as well-mannered as one would expect of someone of her status, she’s direct and often rather blunt, preferring to deal with conflicts as quickly and cleanly as possible. Anything she does, she does with excellence, and she holds high standards for her own results. She’s dutiful and has a strong sense of responsibility, putting “needs” before her personal feelings. Soft-spoken and quiet, she comes across as serenely dignified.
Positive Traits: Annavelle is a direct, rational thinker who approaches her problems with a priority for efficiency and success. She’s generally calm and even-tempered, although certain issues do tend to draw out her passionate side. When something is her responsibility to accomplish, she takes it very seriously, even to the point of setting all sentiment aside in favor of successfully completing a task. In her interactions with others, she’s the very picture of the poised, collected, unshakeable ruler a country would hope for.
Negative Traits: Annavelle has a bad habit of focusing on duty and results so intensely that everything else goes forgotten. She’s self-sacrificing to a concerning extreme, willing to set all feelings and attachments aside in favor of attaining a desired outcome. She can come across as cold, aloof, and unapproachable, and often struggles to relate to people on a personal level or form close friendships. When a restless thought gets stuck in her head, non-stop activity is the only thing that can drown out her worries.
History: As the firstborn child of the non-ruling branch, Annavelle started her life destined for the throne. Alongside her brother, Draco, she was raised to value responsibility and successful results, and trained to manage a kingdom that could slip into peril again at any moment. After the previous queen’s disappearance, she ascended the throne young. Later, she raised her three daughters under the assumption that her eldest would be the next to take the throne, while the 300-year war entered yet another flare of action.
Relationships: Annavelle’s relationships are generally peaceful, yet rather distant. She’s not good at forming deep emotional connections with people, and one of the only exceptions has been her husband, Aracaan, and the other two members of their peer group. To her subordinates, she’s seen as reliable, yet unapproachable and strict. Diplomatic relations, however, are one of her greater skills, as she can both calmly navigate difficult conversations and strategize how to attain the desired results from them.
Interests: Annavelle likes her family, plans that work out successfully, and busy, well-planned schedules. She dislikes failure, poor management of any kind, and having to make emotional decisions. Her hobbies include studying (especially history and military strategy) and gardening with her daughter.
Abilities: Annavelle is extremely well-versed in both physical combat and magic. Although she usually handles strategy instead of directly engaging on the battlefield, this is not for any lack of ability— rather, it’s to avoid the potentially brutal decisions she makes when she’s overwhelmed with excitement and fixated too heavily on the need to win.
Miscellaneous: Growing up, Annavelle always worried about her brother and what kind of person he’d turn out to be. She trusts Aracaan completely, as both a partner and a friend; she makes the plans, and he makes sure that they succeed. Despite her lack of close personal relationships, she’s very socially adept and skilled at navigating people who want to dislike her. She took up gardening as an effort to bond with her daughter, Analaya, but ended up genuinely enjoying the practice. As much as she values being a good queen, she’d never wish the burden of ruling a country on anyone.
Connotative Description: A dignified and grounded queen who believes in responsibility over sentiment. She cares deeply for her country, but can focus on progress and success to the point of blocking out everything else.
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Role: The older sister of the current Daryan king, and mother of the crown princess, Asakiri. An intense, vivacious woman with a powerful personality and an unbreakable will. The accidental victim of a failed assassination plot, which led to a roughly decade-long coma.
Affiliation: Daryan Royal Family, Palace Guard
Gender: Female
Age: 50
Height: 5’10
Appearance: Admaris is a tall woman with a strong, broad-shouldered build. She has pale skin, white eyes, and fluffy, wavy, hip-length white hair that’s most often worn loose or tied back in a low ponytail. After the assassination attempt, she has a variety of scars scattered across her body, most notably, burn scars around her chest, abdomen, and arms.
Personality: Admaris is both easygoing and intense. At the same time that she’s not the type to take things personally or get wrapped up in worries, she’s forceful, direct, and overwhelming to anyone with a weaker will. Optimistic and cheerful, she finds the best in any situation and has the persistence to forge ahead in hopeless times. She’s stubborn and staunchly independent, acting based on her own desires rather than external ideals. She takes her role as royalty seriously, however, and has a deep passion for her country and home. High-energy and intense, she’s always looking for something to do or some goal to pursue. She has a strong compassionate streak for the people who have earned her trust and respect.
Positive Traits: Admaris is a strong, reliable leader. She’s not easily offended or thrown off balance by surprises in life— no matter what happens, she remains radiantly optimistic and self-assured. She’s confident and direct, yet surprisingly skilled at navigating more delicate personalities than her own. Earnest and straightforward, she takes her responsibilities seriously, yet values her own morals enough to live the life she truly wants. She knows what her priorities are and stubbornly sticks to them.
Negative Traits: Admaris can be rather dense; when she’s focused on one thing, everything else tends to fade into the background. Her perpetual cheery attitude can come off as insensitive, especially when she’s too caught up in accomplishing something to stop and consider the people around her. She’s highly stubborn and prone to taking too much work onto herself, rather than relying on help from others. She can be too forgiving for her own good when the wrongdoing comes from someone close to her.
History: Admaris is the first child of the previous Daryan queen, Eleanor. She grew up with her brother, Aracaan, during the latter end of the 300-year war. Only a couple of years after her daughter, the future crown princess, was born, Admaris was caught up in a botched attempt on her brother’s life and was injured severely enough to render her comatose. She would remain unresponsive for roughly a decade, during which time the war saw its end, and her daughter both went missing and was eventually found again.
Relationships: Admaris has generally amicable relationships with the people around her. She’s friendly, easygoing, open-minded, and willing to work with all kinds of different personalities. She has something of a soft spot for the emotionally fragile type, however, and she can be so forceful and overwhelming that it makes her difficult to be around for long periods of time. Many admire her from a distance, at least, and she inspires great loyalty in her subordinates and associates. She’s a reliable, strong leader.
Interests: Admaris likes long flights by herself, challenges (and winning them), and sparring with worthy opponents. She dislikes boredom, complicated academic topics, and losing at anything. Her main hobbies include training, sparring, and exploring outdoor areas.
Abilities: Admaris is extremely well-versed in both physical combat and magic. She has both excellent training and a long history of combat experience on her side, and while she’s educated in matters of strategy as well, her true abilities shine best in direct clashes of strength. She and her brother have a very similar combat style and attitude when in battle.
Miscellaneous: Between Admaris and her brother, she takes after her mother the most strongly. Her mother, Eleanor, disappeared when she was fairly young, and that loss left a lot of pressure on both Admaris and Aracaan. As much as she wishes that she could take the burden of ruling off of Aracaan’s shoulders, she fully believes that he and Annavelle are the best-suited for the job. Throughout her youth, she had a somewhat humorous reputation for being exceptionally durable and full of energy. Despite his difficult personality, she loves her husband, Draco, dearly.
Connotative Description: A powerful woman and capable leader whose brilliantly intense personality is both overwhelming and admirable. The victim of a particular incident, who spent years comatose because of it.
Role: The currently ruling king of the Daryan country, and son of the previous queen. A boisterous, excitable man who glows with an unquenchable joy despite the often dire circumstances of the world around him. Annavelle’s husband and father to Arassia, Anya, and Analaya.
Affiliation: Daryan Royal Family, Palace Guard
Gender: Male
Age: 47
Height: 5’11
Appearance: Aracaan is a tall man with a broad, strong build. He has pale skin, white eyes, and shoulder-length, straight white hair, parted in the middle and worn in a shaggy, messy style. He has a short, neatly-trimmed beard along his jaw, and the kind of smile that all but sparkles. His style of dress is dignified and regal, yet easy to move in and far from opulent.
Personality: Aracaan is direct, enthusiastic, and passionate. He has the kind of powerful personality that dominates a room through intensity alone, radiant enough to drown out anyone who gets too close. He’s forceful, boisterous, and aggressive when he has a goal in mind, charging fearlessly toward what he wants with little concern for how to get there or what obstacles he may face. He can be somewhat rough and insensitive, however, and doesn’t mesh well with delicate egos or anyone easy to offend. He’s strong-willed and stubborn, and can be optimistic nearly to the point of obliviousness. He takes his duties seriously, however, and lives every day with the well-being of his kingdom as the number one priority in his mind.
Positive Traits: Aracaan is a shining, charismatic sort of leader whose passion drives people to follow his will. He’s vivacious, jovial, and faces every challenge with a smile on his face. He’s direct and open-minded, and willing to try unconventional methods if that’s what works best. Sociable and extroverted, he’s approachable despite his position of leadership. People find him reliable, easy to trust, and easy to open up to. He’s a grounded and practical ruler who values real solutions and progress over empty ideals.
Negative Traits: Aracaan can be dense, reckless, and prone to trampling over any weaker wills that get in his way. He’s extremely stubborn; once he sets his mind to doing something, he’ll accomplish that thing no matter what self-sacrificing lengths it takes. He’s quick to put himself into danger when there’s a goal to be achieved, and while not exactly impulsive, he can be hot-headed, and his own fearlessness can lead to unwise choices. Ultimately, he puts his duties before his feelings, even when that entails sacrifices.
History: Aracaan is the second child of the previous Daryan queen, Eleanor. He grew up with his sister, Admaris, during the latter end of the 300-year war, and later became the spouse of the current queen, Annavelle. The war had one of its active phases during his reign, so Aracaan has spent a wide portion of his life navigating strategy and battlefields. He raised his three daughters under the assumption that his eldest would be the next to take the throne, all while fighting to bring peace to his kingdom again.
Relationships: Aracaan’s relationships are generally open and friendly. Aside from a certain few personality types, he can get along with almost anyone, and has a long history of winning loyal companions at every turn. He’s a strong, reliable leader, and values both his subordinates and his family greatly. Although he hasn’t been able to be as involved in his daughters’ lives as he would have liked, all three of them are the greatest pride and joy in his life. He trusts and relies on his wife more than anyone.
Interests: Aracaan likes winning at any kind of challenge, intense physical exercise, and his family. He dislikes extended periods of boredom, the former Dzlethian queen, and obstacles he can’t surpass. His interests include combat, military strategy, and spending time with his wife and daughters.
Abilities: Aracaan is extremely well-versed in both physical combat and magic, although his greatest abilities lie in direct clashes of strength. He’s spent a lifetime on the battlefield; as a result, his skill and experience are among the best of his era. While Annavelle plans most of their strategies, Aracaan is the one to carry them out and make sure they succeed.
Miscellaneous: It’s become something of a running joke in the family that the same personality keeps getting passed down— Aracaan, his sister, his mother, and his eldest daughter have all come out shockingly similar. Despite thoroughly understanding the horrors of drawn-out war, one-on-one combat is one of Aracaan’s deepest joys. He loves a good fight, and he loves winning those fights even more. His mother disappeared when he was fairly young, and the loss greatly shaped his life; he had to mature quickly to take up his role as king. He’s terrible at telling when someone doesn’t like him.
Connotative Description: An intense, passionate leader who both approaches his role as king with the utmost sincerity and approaches life with unceasing, relentless joy. Powerful both emotionally and physically.
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