maledictis

“SO, I CAN EXPLAIN... THE EARS,” aloysius started, smiling at miłosz as best he can. he’s sure he’s probably in trouble with the other bard, but he can cure anything with a little kiss and maybe a quick roll in the hay.

aidan + vastraes  ( @maledictiis​ )

stance. nock. draw. release. aidan repeats this cycle until he reaches his last arrow. then he recovers them from the target & field and begins again. he continues this until he finally realizes he is being watched & addresses his company. “are you going to just stand there or would you like to join me ?” he takes the first arrow from his re-filled quiver & assumes his open stance. nock, draw, and release.

vastraes stands, short as ever, next to the taller redhead, watching him shoot. vas liked watching people do things. they weren’t any good at anything in particular. they weren’t good at fighting. they weren’t good at bow and arrow. they really weren’t good at anything not involving a hammer.

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫: vastraes —  { @maledictiis​ }

           the arrival of the ezians had caused the forger to grow tense and for those lingering headaches to twist into something more painful. dark hues focus on those from the other lands that wander around them while his head throbs with the deepness comparable only to orpheus’ footsteps to the underworld. noticing a stark shade of red amongst everything, leon takes a spot by their side and leans in slightly.  “  patrian to patrian… what do you make of them  ?  “

vastraes looked up at the taller patrian, frowning as they thought for a moment. they looked back out at the ezians before nodding...as if they knew something unknown to others.

“I THINK THEY’RE NICE. MOSTLY, A LOT OF THEM FIND MY RUNES TO BE AMAZING. AND I’LL LIKE ANYONE WHO COMPLIMENTS MY WORK.” they look up at leon, winking once and throwing leon a dashing little smile in the meantime.

“oh, i know. i had the pleasure of meeting the ezians before. how long has it been…five years now ? i suppose the war against your gods must have been a success. truthfully, i returned to viridula before i could witness the outcome.” it had been quite easy to escape in the ensuing panic. a fellow patrian had been able to arrange them passage back without being noticed. 

ingrid cranes her neck to look at the aforementioned man & cannot help the giggle that she fails to suppress. “a friend of yours ?” she inquired. 

“AH! YOU WERE THERE FOR THEIR LITTLE HAPPENSTANCES. YES. TURNS OUT, WE WERE THE PROBLEM! LOTS OF FELLOW PATRIANS, HONESTLY. CRAZY, THE LOT OF THEM. FUNNY HOW THAT WORKS OUT.”

“You’re from here? Woud’ve been helpfu to know forl prepping, at least…” Loras’s eyes snap at Aloysius, nose scrunching most curiously. “Regarding everything, Al? Before I ask more questions, which I am sure will come the more wine I have, tell me something first. Why did you leave such a place, and - more importantly- what would people remember you for, here?” He leans in, clinking his wine before muttering “And keep spilling these secrets to me, mate. We are mates.” He reminded him, smirking slightly. 

“I...WELL. I STOLE A LOT OF THINGS. THEY WERE HARMLESS THINGS, REALLY! AND ONLY FROM THE RICH! SO IT DOESN’T REALLY COUNT THEN, RIGHT?”

aloysius smiles and scratches the back of his head. “THAT’S THE THING, TOO. MY NAME ALSO ISN’T ALOYSIUS. ACTUALLY. IT’S MORE...ALONG THE LINES OF PERCIVAL?” he shrugs and tries to laugh this one off. it doesn’t super work, but hey. that’s life, eh?

“war does warp all perception,” she says as she thinks of her own country’s tendency to teeter on the edge of conflict. she pat her father on the shoulder. “should we not visit the settlement ruins? it would be good to cultivate their art.”

“LOVELY IDEA, MY SWEET.” he smiles at the pat, happy to receive affection from his favorite child. “SPEAKING OF CULTIVATING ART, WE SHOULD GET YOU NEW DRESSES. YOU WILL NEED NEW DRESSES. WHEN I FIND OUT THE COLORS OF THE EZIAN NATIONS, I WILL ORDER DRESSES IN THOSE COLORS. YOU WILL LOOK LOVELY.”

Cyrus is now far too excitable, gasping at the idea of being in the presence of a talented king who could be his ideal dragon. Isolde’s feline smirk stretched. Never mind that the dagger was stolen, nor traded out old gems for less traceable emeralds, rubies. This gift was plucked with an agenda, for she was set on making herself known to this king, to instill a lasting effect- perhaps an allied connection  that could serve Mirza, serve herself. But he had a charm about him, enough to elicit a laugh as she mused, curtsying in unison as he bows and slowly rising. “Godfrey, then, you are too kind a king and man. A solid deal… should we need a thing, you’ll be the first to know. ” She teases, watching as Cyrus runs around them, opting to show off his sword to other children. Extending her hand to the king, she adds, “Isolde Praeclarus. Far from a lady- I’ve barely left the less agreeable parts of Arella throughout the years, I’m determined to teach Cyrus about your culture. If we need a tour guide, perhaps you would assist. Would that fall into your offer? What activity would you recommend?”

“ISOLDE. A BEAUTIFUL NAME. YOU HAVE THE COUNTENANCE OF A LADY AND THE NAME OF ONE IF NOT THE STATUS.” ever the charmer, godfrey ducks his head and simply smiles at isolde.

“I WOULD LOVE TO PLAY TOUR GUIDE. THOUGH FOR ANY TOUR GUIDANCE OUTSIDE OF VIRIDIULA, I WILL HAVE TO HAND THAT TASK OFF TO OUR AMBASSADORS IN THOSE COUNTRIES. YOU WILL FIND NO OTHER COUNTRY IN THIS GREAT LAND IS AS WELCOMING AS OURS.” he winks at cyrus. “WE HAVE MORE FUN, ANYWAY.”

         “  to even speak to them i must first have knowledge of who they are.  “  the wink does not pull any playfulness from the blood fiend, instead he crosses his arms over his broad chest and raises a brow.  “  well, a tree does not talk back so i like your divine far more than my own.  “  though were they ever truly arlo’s divine  ?  he stopped praying to them at seventeen and never returned to them from that day forth.  “  though if this great seeding tree is in need of a sacrifice i know a bard that could be useful.  “

“THE VOLCANUS IS A PROCLAIMED GOD. EVERY COUPLE OF HUNDRED YEARS, THE OLD VOLCANUS LEAPS INTO THEIR LITTLE VOLCANO, AND A NEW ONE IS CHOSEN. GOD ON EARTH AND ALL THAT. THOUGH, JUDGING BY YOUR STORY, YOU’RE TIRED OF THAT NARRATIVE.”

𝐖𝐡𝐨:   @maledictiis​  (  godfrey  ) 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞:   viridiula stables

“we’re s’pposed to be grateful … thankful that we’re now stuck here …” the smithy grumbles under his breath as he struggles to unlatch the saddle from the horse, a frustrated hiss falling from his lips as he yanks back from the mare. “fuckin’ … who left the one-armed fucker with the only saddled horse?” he huffs and scuffs his feet across the stable floor before taking glance of the good king godfrey, the man offering sanctuary for the ezians. “ … your grace.”

godfrey nodded to one of the stablehands, wordlessly instructing him to help. he is dressed in his finery, hands clasped in front of him as he looks at one of the rougher ezians with a small, gracious smile. the grumbling was cute. so was the grumbler. but ah, godfrey had a soft spot for men rough around the edges.

thirty years?  “i- how- uhm.  how old am i?” she asks, looking up at him.  there’s something there, at the back of her mind, but every time she reaches for it, it slips away.  steps just out of reach.  briar wets her lips, glancing down at her lap.  “thank you,” she breathes, reaching up to rub at her still-wet eyes.  “i- we must have been very good friends, for you to do this for me,” she tries to joke.  

"ABOUT ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE, I’D SAY. YOUR BIRTHDAY IS SOON.” he moves faster than her, brushing her tears from her eyes with soft hands. he watches her cautiously, wondering how he can tell her about their relationship. he decides he will not.

“   …  my,  you catch a woman at her most vulnerable.   ”     there’s an inkling of a smile,  heard before seen.  a lone arm held together the loose fabrics at her chest  (exposed shoulder half-wrapped in blood soaked bandages  —  a detail she neglects to address).  despite the sudden intrusion and decidedly risqué circumstance,  the merchant makes no move to readjust her clothes…  if anything,  the hems of her dress slipped further as she reached for the smoking pipe on the side table,  legs crossed as she leaned into her seat.     “   how may i be of service?   ”          /        open starter .

vastraes had always had a bit of a crush on the aurum. just a little bit. they would never admit it, though. or at least, they’d keep it quiet for the time being. “I... HAVE A PROPOSITION FOR THE MERCHANT’S GUILD. OR RATHER, I WOULD LIKE TO START SOMETHING WITHIN THE MERCHANT’S GUILD. WITH YOUR PERMISSION, OF COURSE.”

she leans into the hand on her cheek, just trying to breathe steadily.  “how long has it been?” she asks softly.  “i just-” a pause.  “there’s so much i don’t know, that i can’t- i can’t remember,” she whispers, almost as much to herself as to the king.  “i just want to remember something.  please-” 

briar hesitates, not sure what she’s asking for.  “help me?”

“I...THIRTY YEARS,” he replies. had it really been so short a time that they’d been courting? “WE’VE...BEEN CLOSE FOR THIRTY YEARS.” he looks to her, and he decides to help her. not just for himself. to find her love. but to restore her memories. it seems to haunt her. he wants her happy again.

The question feels like more of a statement, and draws Kayin’s attention. Ah, yes, an obscurae. Tall and beautiful, like all their kind, especially compared to other Patrians. This woman displayed her heritage proudly for all to see, the points of her ears mirroring the pirate’s freshly unveiled ones. It’s been decades since they let the sharp points out from under headscarves and bandanas, but since returning to Patria, it felt prudent to allow them to be seen.

“I am, aye.” Their eyes rove up and down the lady on instinct, noting jewels and finery with quick glances that do nothing to hide their interest. A stark contrast indeed to the comparatively simpler cloths Kayin had donned so as not to draw attention. “Kayin. Born and raised in Molibyne, only left about fifty years back.” Their head tilts, the many bangles in their ears clinking gently together. “You’d be our esteemed ambassador then. I take it we’re still on good terms with the Viridiulans, then. At least for the time being.”

“MOLIBYNE? I WAS BORN IN GLASPORTUM CASTLE. SEEMS WE WERE NOT FAR OFF FROM ONE ANOTHER.” babyl smiles politely, eying the bangles and adornments on the beautiful obscurae. babyl had always had an appreciation for beautiful people. not MEN, but ah. babyl eyed the pirate once more. the curves of their waist. they are stunning.

Xiang accompanies the handshake with a genteel nod—deference in the face of royalty, as he’d always been taught. Not divine royalty, to be sure, but one with a clever mind and inscrutable motives. All of which Xiang can more than appreciate, albeit mainly for the entertainment it provides him.

“All the more intriguing, then, Your Majesty. For it seems they did not even recognize our own in their midst.” And how that could be is a mystery to him. Did the Ezians really never question those with pointed ears and statuesque heights around them? There was one, an obscurae if he was not mistaken, who towered over even the tallest mortal. He can’t help but see it as a failing, but he will have to speak to them to know more.

“Not yet, sire, but I fully intend to,” he replies with a coy nod. “I believe the Volcanus will be most interested to hear that Ezians walk among us again, and I must be able to deliver a full report on these people. I will, of course, share anything of note with you and yours,” he adds with a wink.

“THEY LIVE SUCH QUICK LIVES. WE CAN HARDLY BLAME THEM FOR THEIR LACK OF PERCEPTION, CAN WE?” he laughs and looks around them for any listening ears. seeing none in his immediate vision, he returned to xiang and shrugged.

“THEY ARE FASCINATING. I AM SURE THE VOLCANUS WILL WANT TO COME AND SEE THE EZIANS FOR THEMSELF. AND OF COURSE, VIRIDIULA WOULD BE GRATEFUL TO HAVE DIVINITY IN OUR HALLS.” the idea that the volcanus was a god always rubbed him the wrong way. why couldn’t he be a god? he was certainly attractive enough to be one. at least, he thought he was.