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@preylike
Preylike [ ] And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn't matter, the hills weren't going anywhere, the thyme and rosemary kept coming back, the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit.
Zain Idrisi [ Scholar and Liege of House Idrisi ] mus. con.
Coraline Bucur [ Personal Spy to the King ] mus. con.
Kajsa Erner [ Lady of House Erner ] mus. con.
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𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻 ╱ with @preylike at the feast
the lanterns paint the sky a starry one and rhosyn's blue eyes seem hypnotised by the simple grandeur of it. they have their released their own, not yet ━━ not until they have figured out what the gods, old and new, have planned for their blood. ocean eyes look around and at the spotting of a familiar face, their jaw tightens. all they can wonder about is whether or not their brother's employee had been privy to his games. ❝ i do wonder how many of these lanterns were released for my brother's health. ❞ rhosyn imagines that not many, even if they don't want to admit it to themselves; not fully. ❝ and if they are ever the fools for doing so. ❞
She released a lantern for her mother, may she rest, shortly after the sun had dipped beneath the horizon. The timing of it lets her pretend that her mother received the message faster, that the lantern aimed true to its destination while the rest float directionless in the night sky much later. She cannot bring herself to move her two feet away from the display. If she does, then she will be wrapped up again in court politics and ploys between nobles that do not care for her or her people. Coraline will allow herself this break, this brief moment in time where she is not the ailing King's eyes an ears, but just herself.
A voice strung tightly with tension stronger than any bow pulls her out of this hopeful daydream. Coraline's skirts sway at her ankles while she remains all too still, chin tilting not in deference, but acknowledgement. She hopes privately that the people are selfish, that they are more likely to pray for the good health of themselves and their own than they are for the King. " I am sure he feels the strength and admiration of those that have chosen to do so. " Evasion. Don't ever conform to one way or another. Only the Gods know what the Princess' thoughts are on the matter, anyway. Try as she might to have spied on them, she always seemed to come out with nothing more than day plans.
" Are you not pleased with His recovery, Princess ? Miraculous, as it was. " A distinct lack of awe in her voice as she states the word as if it were a fact she was force fed. " Have you released a lantern of your own ? " She lowers her voice conspiratorially, ducking her head as she says, " I am quite good at keeping secrets in case yours happens to not be for what they expect. "
Open starter with Kajsa Erner, who is watching The Tournament.
A long, drawn out sigh escapes her as the sound of blade against blade echoes through the air. Several thoughts pass her mind. One: that should be her in the pit, hilt of her sword pinned through flesh. Two: they really do a disservice using unsharpened blades in these tournaments. Where are the stakes ? The fight ? She wants to yell out to the knights as they dance around each other, parrying without striking, evading hits with the elegance of a performer and not a warrior. " I thought there would be more blood, " she laments, unable to fight the downturn of her lips.
" Come. " Kajsa nods in a direction away from the crowd, far away from the play fighting that seems to amuse those too far in their cups. " Let's find something else to entertain us. Surely there must be something interesting in this damned castle. "
wasn’t that kajsa erner walking the cobbled roads of coňstanja? it’s nice to see the lady of house erner out and about on such a fine day as this. i’ve heard from the court spies that they are notoriously callous, whilst also managing to be quite steadfast. the twenty-six year old is eager to explore bran keep. i heard that they themselves are divine ( corporal ). it’s funny, whenever i think of them, i think of the glint of moonlight off a blade dripping in gore, battle scars worn proudly, a garden with flowers wilting.
Open starter with Coraline Bucur, who is roaming through Old Town near White's Club on the third night of the Harvest Celebration.
Even the most careful people are creatures of habit and Coraline is no exception. Part of her needed a rest from the more robust celebrations at and around bran keep while another fraction wanted to walk the pebbled roads back in old town where she was raised. She takes it upon herself to go on a undisclosed venture for information where the festivities would be less gaudy and the theatrics fabling the royal family unrestrained.
She stops at a puppet show as it comes to completion, lingering in the back where the shadows are monsters of their own and watches over the heads of children gathered around the puppeteer. It toes the line of crude mockery, poking fun at His Majesty and his family. Most of the jokes can be written off as being for the enjoyment of the young ones, but she knows better than to believe that. " Your thoughts ? " She poses the question to the adult nearest, offering no indication of appreciation or reprehension of the show herself. " That puppet of King Stefan is so true to his appearance that it looks preternatural. "
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the lantern release, day two, at the edge of the river roudina — open
There were not many things the oldest daughter of house verkon truly care for when it came to the capital, the lantern release tradition every year to come was perhaps one of the very few. there was something almost ethereal in the view, how the lanterns flickered and reflected all around the faithful and hopeful. the good wishes of the people all being sent to a higher divinity, or at least the hope that someone would listen to one or any of them. the crone maiden holds her own lantern by her fingertips, the orange light reflecting off her fair skin and silver hues. she smiles as she senses another close enough to her, she lets go of the lantern and watches it float away with contentment. "have you release your own in good faith to the gods?" she asks without taking her gaze from the floating light.
They have come to the celebration to prove that they are not a complete shut in. And, well, of course they hold interest in any rumors that may circulate in such gatherings. The King's health is of great concern to them. No other reason.
The second night, they spend at the lantern release, the warm orange glow reflecting in their irises. There is no awe on their expression, no strengthened faith, no love for such displays. Still, they are posed a question and left to decide how to answer: tear down kind hearted beliefs or play along? " No. Not yet. " A pause. Zain can't make out the outline of the lantern she released in the night sky anymore. " I always seem to forget the stories for why this happens. Surely it must be for more than just displaying faith to the Gods. "
open to everyone location — the great hall ( 1 / 4 )
──── . ݁₊ she isn't hungry, but it isn't food which anamaria craves anyway as she slinks into the grand feast hall of bran castle. her dark eyes swallow the room whole before taking a seat amongst a small crowd, far from her family but remaining thickly in the middle of the commotion, for it would be dire to miss a single detail. “there are so many rumours," she sighs, her voice a soft glow in the candlelight, smiling to the cupbearer who fills her goblet with the rich wine offered by the newly healed king stefan. her eyebrows raise to them sat before her, long lashes fluttering in her doe eyed innocence. such an easy facade to wear for one as dainty, as soft spoken as she. “i don't know what to believe.”
Her mouth shapes into a smile, something gentle and entirely unremarkable. There, and then not. It's easy to get lost in the commotion of the nightly feasts, to disappear and reinvent oneself without being noticed by another. It's a tactic she employs in much less chaotic spaces with an equal amount of skill. Coraline's head turns to the familiar voice that addresses her, curls bouncing over her shoulder as she departs from seemingly casual conversation with some noble whose name she has no reason to remember. Her voice lowers conspicously, unheard by all but the sharpest ears, and she knows best just how sharp Anamaria is. " You should exhibit more caution in choosing your prey. I was under the assumption I taught you better. Know who you approach before speaking. I have as much information as you. "
open starter for : devika dragavei & open ( accepting 4 replies ) location : the blessing of the crops
something swirls uncomfortably within the dragavei at the vision of the solarui demonstrating their powers and how they give to the people of constanja. clenched fist watches and eyes fixated upon the control and demeanor they all hold wonder if she would ever be able to perform half as well as them. however, struck with jealousy the scholar decides to take her leave. however, as she is about to leave the field she bumps into another onlooker and eyes fall down quickly. " forgive me, my mind wandered so i did not watch where i stepped. "
" Is that what we are calling it these days ? Your mind wandering ? " And maybe it's a touch harsh, pressing purposefully on the way she carries herself in her lack of control. Zain attempts a genuine smile and he knows without seeing himself that it doesn't come across as gentle or understanding. pity. He looks off to the demonstration, squinting against the bursts of light and heat. " This is a performance — theater — not a proper display of skill. Do not tell me you are jealous. "
GRATIELA BRANCUSI as Noemi in 1883
i am forlorn and miserable. good night
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wasn’t that coraline bucur walking the cobbled roads of coňstanja? it’s nice to see the personal spy to the king out and about on such a fine day as this. i’ve heard from the court spies that they are notoriously untrusting, whilst also managing to be quite discreet. the thirty-five year old is eager to explore bran keep. i heard that they themselves aren’t divine. it’s funny, whenever i think of them, i think of careful to say a word when every wall listens to every syllable, footsteps as silent as shadow, orders followed quickly and without dissent.
wasn’t that zain idrisi walking the cobbled roads of coňstanja? it’s nice to see the scholar / liege of house idrisi out and about on such a fine day as this. i’ve heard from the court spies that they are notoriously manipulative, whilst also managing to be quite pragmatic. the thirty-three year old is eager to explore bran keep. i heard that they themselves are divine ( salvator ). it’s funny, whenever i think of them, i think of the chill of the winter exacerbating an always present ache in the joints, fingers stained with ink from a night spent endlessly writing, the shifting smile before another's close-kept secret is spilled.
ASSAD ZAMAN as THE VAMPIRE ARMAND Interview with the Vampire
i'm bisexual because i'm attracted to both flesh and machinery
sibling relationships are so strange... like i love you. you will never understand me in a way that matters. we are the same person in drastically different ways. we are sewn together. we don't talk. we are attached at the hip. you wish i was never born. can i call you. let's eat together. i forgive you. etc
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Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (2001) | Deleted Scene
Thinking about this poem I wrote two days ago.
