IT IS A STRANGE FEELING TO SIT HERE THIS TIME. the sound of her breathing seems louder than usual with every breath in she takes, no sound of song or idle chatter escaping her lips. darkened tresses pool around her, knees pulled in toward her chest as she takes up the smallest portion of the marionette's bed, folded in on herself as if it were to minimize any chance of breaking that very quietude she had been insisted on giving her. a finger traces atop the blanket, swirling around a sole petal that has fallen upon it, another soon falling beside it.
for, where the whitened mask rests upon the goddess' face, a myriad of flowers blossom forth from between its holes, alternating between a cycle of bloom and withering. they had appeared so suddenly, it took her little time to find her friend to question what was happening, trusting that, if anyone could, it would be her. but each second that passes, it grows harder to keep her silence in thanks to the myriad of secrets she carries with her in respect and, truthfully, in a sense of grief. she awkwardly shifts in place as a few more sprout upon fair skin with these passing thoughts.
❝ Sandrone一? ❞ she calls to her, lifting her head a little to turn where the harbinger sits at her desk in focus. ❝ Have you found anything out about them yet? ❞ ... this had been the second time she asked that question within the last five minutes.
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IT HAD ALL BEEN AN ACCIDENT, REALLY. fabrics and papers flying into the air, overlapping upon the ground due to a rush of pedestrians on the street. honestly, she might have thought it was her fault, were it not for the undescriptive man who seemed more than eager to pass by everyone else just as he had done to them. ❝ My apologies. Let me help you with those, ❞ she offers, kneeling down to help collect the papers, some which seemed to be hypothesis about this city.
while her fabric lay bare on the streets, it wouldn't fly away so easily as parchment might, so it was a matter of urgency there. once she could grab as many as she could, she hands them over before looking at the man they belonged to, smile upon her features and all.
❝ Your theories 一 some of them seem quite intriguing. At least from the little I was capable of glancing at them. ❞ perhaps that was rude of her to do, only realizing it thereafter. hopefully he didn't mind so much, her already busying herself with the fabrics and needle kit. ❝ I believe that's all of them. Unless some managed to hide beneath my fabrics? One moment, let me see. ❞
SHE DOESN'T WANT TO SEE. the fact that they're not in anakt garden anymore 一 the fact that sua isn't here, too. no, she doesn't wish to see it at all. so perhaps that was why she was leaning against ivan so carefree, the smile on her face unhindered by their current situation as she makes herself comfortable like always. without sua here, at least, she wouldn't have to worry about her very comfy body pillow getting repercussions for whatever reason. ❝ I don't get what you mean, Ivan... ❞ she does, to some degree, but she wouldn't show it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀not to him, not to anyone else.
❝ What's there to worry about? Isn't this just another part of Anakt we haven't seen? ❞ maybe she was seeing it too lightly. ❝ Till and I... we snuck around before into a new place we weren't allowed to go. So this is probably the same! ❞
Os convidados chegaram à ilha ao longo do dia. Foram recebidos por funcionários uniformizados, que os conduziram aos chalés designados. Todos nomeados em referência à cultura grega, com arquitetura moderna, piscina privativa e varanda com vista para o mar. Sobre a cama, um kit de boas-vindas os esperava: uma garrafa de vinho local, o mapa da ilha e um convite impresso com a programação da noite.
Com o entardecer, as luzes da mansão Kyríakis se acenderam. O jardim foi preparado para o coquetel de abertura. As mesas dispostas em torno da piscina, os sofás de linho claro e as tochas acesas criavam um ambiente discreto, mas elegante. Um quarteto de cordas tocava, enquanto garçons circulavam com bandejas de drinks autorais, como o "Ouzo Spritz", o "Figueira Tônica" e uma versão cítrica de Negroni.
Leonidas Kyríakis apareceu quando o céu já escurecia. Vestia um terno de linho escuro, sem gravata. Subiu os degraus do terraço e, com uma taça de vinho na mão, dirigiu-se aos convidados reunidos.
"Sejam bem-vindos a Skorpios." disse. "Esta ilha é minha casa. Mais que isso, é meu último projeto. Tudo aqui foi preparado com cuidado para recebê-los." Ele olhou para os rostos à sua frente por um momento antes de continuar. "Passei a vida construindo algo que não quero deixar ao acaso. Vocês estão aqui porque representam o que restou de famílias importantes. Algumas ainda resistem, outras nem tanto. Todas carregam história." Fez uma pausa breve, sem alterar o tom. "Não tenho herdeiros, mas tenho critérios. O que deixarei para trás precisa ir para alguém que prove que merece. Vocês não vieram como convidados. Vieram como candidatos." Fez uma pausa breve, sem alterar o tom. "Durante as próximas semanas, tudo será observado. Aproveitem o tempo, conheçam o lugar, façam o que acharem necessário. Mas lembrem-se: ninguém vai ganhar só por ter um sobrenome." Ergueu a taça, firme. "Que esta noite marque o início de algo memorável. Boa sorte a todos."
O jantar teve início logo depois. O menu foi assinado por um chef com estrela Michelin, especializado em culinária grega contemporânea. A refeição começou com uma seleção de mezedes reinterpretados: folhas de parreira recheadas com arroz de açafrão e nozes tostadas, carpaccio de polvo com azeite de manjerona, e espuma de tzatziki servida sobre pão pita crocante.
Para o prato principal, os convidados podiam escolher entre três opções:
Lombo de cordeiro grelhado com crosta de ervas, servido sobre purê de fava santorinha, azeite trufado e redução de syrah.
Cherne ao forno, com crosta de pistache, legumes assados em azeite de Kalamata e emulsão de limão siciliano.
Galette de berinjela e queijo manouri, com camadas finas de abobrinha e pimentão, acompanhada de tomate confit e coulis de hortelã (opção vegetariana).
Para encerrar, a sobremesa foi apresentada em três tempos:
Panacota de iogurte grego com geleia de rosas.
Loukoumades (bolinhos fritos com mel e canela) servidos com sorvete de mastika.
Figoss frescos recheados com amêndoas e mergulhados em vinho doce.
Cada prato era acompanhado por sugestões de vinhos produzidos na própria ilha, selecionados para harmonizar com os sabores locais e o clima da noite.
INFORMAÇÕES OOC
oi, galera! então, esse jantar é só um semi-eventinho pra iniciar as nossas interações. não tem nada de complexo acontecendo ainda, é mais pra todo mundo se localizar, sentir o clima da ilha e começar a se conectar.
o jantar de boas-vindas foi servido na área externa da mansão, à beira da piscina. tem música ao vivo, comida boa, drinks circulando e bastante espaço pra conversas de todos os tipos. a ideia é que vocês consigam interagir entre si livremente, de boas.
eu fiz uma pastinha no pinterest só pra dar uma ideia da decoração, quem tiver curiosidade pode clicar aqui pra dar uma olhadinha lá!
ao longo da semana, eu vou lançar uma task bem simples, mas bem legal. e o resultado dela vai estar diretamente ligado ao quanto os personagens prestaram atenção (ou não) uns nos outros durante esse jantar, então é legal aproveitar agora pra observar, puxar assunto e se conhecer melhor.
no mais, boas-vindas! qualquer dúvida é só me chamar, e espero que, acima de tudo, a gente se divirta muito nesse rpg!
❝ Well this is wildly inconvenient. ❞ spoken with a shade of faded black clinging to his body, an arm lifting to inspect himself. ❝ Putting together an outfit in these conditions is going to be far more work than usual. ❞ that's not the actual problem, but he was never one to show the cards held against his chest until the time was right, now, was he?
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MAYBE THIS WAS A SIGN 一 some means to remind him that all his efforts have amounted to naught but his own execution back during that wretched war. having had the chance to wish away all that ailed not only him, but his brother, was truly a dream come true, one which he should have known better. and yet it was the temptation to have that normal life that drew him in to that sweet embrace, only for it now to turn into something so bleak and devestating.
where his little brother once was, brimming and full of energy, now stood only a malignant reflection. crimson eyes gleam as if they were truly belonging to a creature of the night, that thirst in his gaze far too unmistakable. it made him hesitate that the face of his beloved little sibling could reflect something as that.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀not only that, but his company now witnessing it一
❝ Ivan. Don't hurt him... certainly he is merely mistaken and something else can be done to rid him of this. ❞ he could only hope that ivan would be willing to help and, if not, at least stand aside without hurting his little brother.
WAKING UP TO THE FEELING OF, well, nothing was an alarming sense of concern for a medical doctor. and, further still, when the cause has been discovered: that of limbs and body rend of skin and, most noticeably, metal and hard. strange, the thoughts swirl in his head, that of all people this may have happened with, it was no stranger but rather a colleague in some ways. was it on purpose that it was designed this way?
ah, there were too many variables to deduce that just yet一
which is why he had shown up to his own place of residence without much delay. ❝ I know you're in there, Screwllum. If you would please open the door to let me into my living quarters, ❞ he calls out, the voice, though familiar, foreign to his ears when enveloped in the words that fall from nonexistent lips.
❝ As I also hope you aren't conducting any experiments while occupying my body. I understand this is a new phenomenon for us both, but please do have some tact. ❞
