#ofsilverstarter

location: palace garden

status: open

The once contagious smile that stretched across Portia’s face had now become silenced. The sparkling of her warm eyes had diminished into emptiness as she sat with her legs folded into the grass of the palace’s garden.  Her fingers were slightly shaking as they pulled at the yellow weeds. She was there when the king spoke, barely even thinking her name would be called, barely even expecting herself to be considered a ‘new blood’. 

“It’s true,” Portia whispered as she plucked a yellow pedal. 

“It’s not true.” Her voice barely even felt like her own. It was shaky from a sense of confusion, from having attention drawn to her, when she didn’t even want to the attention. The attention didn’t belong to her, but to others. Was it the breaking of light bulbs? Was that all she was good for? Maybe it was a coincidence?  She still couldn’t smile. It was as if Tomas was gone all over again and had temporarily removed her ability of smiling. Her head bowed again wit her eyes closed and fingers still pulling at the petal again. It’s true. It’s not true. It’s true. 

She paused. Her fingers searching for a petal and cracking open her eyes and staring at the sole petal remaining. Her shoulders tensed as she pulled it away and discarded the remaining stem. 

“It’s not true.” Denial was always easier than the truth that she barely knew. A few times the light bulbs had gone enough, but she didn’t think that they might have been because of her. She didn’t want herself to believe that. She was a red blood, she was certain of it. Connecting the dots was harder than she wanted, so she took a breath, glanced up at the sky, and swallowed. “It’s not true.” 

     It had been nearly a week already, but he still couldn’t quite believe anything was real. Especially that he could be... well, happy. This happy. It was a shocking sort of sensation, one that crept up on him when he least expected it. When he forgot to worry about who watched before he kissed Max in the hall, or when he remembered that he didn’t have to fall asleep sitting outside her door when he was worried. There were so many little things that had changed massively, and it was overwhelming as it was... lovely. 

     And distracting. He supposed a distraction was due, since he hadn’t truly let himself worry about anything but his position since before he could really remember. So to get himself back on track, Calder went back to training --- he hadn’t been in over-long, and he was due for a solid beating. It was around time for luncheon, so there were hardly any people within, but he took to target practice at first. A warm up, normally.

     The first three knives he threw went wide into the farthest three rings of his target. He started to laugh, shaking his head and marveling at hands that had once held such precision and now seemed utterly useless. He couldn’t blame them, not when Cal himself was hopelessly distracted. But the sound of footsteps behind him as he took another wide shot seemed to decide his fate. “Terrible,” he murmured, not seeming particularly put out. “I never understood the term ‘love-drunk’ before, but it seems I’m wasted.”

Her name is called, and she forgets that it’s hers. Her name is called, and she waits for the title to come with it: kitchen apprentice. Her name is called, and she wants to pluck it from the King’s lips with her shaking fingers, hide it in the safety of her palm from Silvers and Reds and strangers. Melody Walsh — new blood. But she hardly feels new; she only feels afraid.

Melody looks meekly down at her shoes, hands clasped tightly as her ears grow hot. Her chest trembles with the force of emotions not her own: fear and awe and revulsion, prove yourself, show yourself, be less than what you are. Are they looking at her? Are they waiting for her to become a symbol of a new age? To shout in support of the King, to smile happily at her undoing?

She’s only ever wanted an apron around her waist, the smell of a cake baking all around her, and a hand tightly clasped in hers. But she is alone, and her hands are empty, and the kitchen is faraway. There is no sanctuary left to her; not even her own heart, so bombarded with the opinions of others after the King’s announcement.

Overwhelmed, unable to take it any longer, Melody turns to scurry away. But the crowd is thick and instead, she stumbles straight into the person behind her. “Apologies,” she murmurs, “If I could just get through, please…"

        Ana alway made an effort to be there for announcements. Even though her heart pumped red, these announcements affected and especially the Scarlet Guard. This announcement, in particular, worried and excited her. She listened to the King speak, knowing what was coming next due to her place in the Scarlet Guard, and watched the Voss’s demonstration of their powers. Yet, she heart stopped when he began listing names. At her own name, nausea fell over her. Ana Valdez. After his words, she stood their frozen as the crowd bustled and murmured around her. From what she was told, the king made no mention of his intent to out the New Bloods. Anger and anxiety fought for dominance within her. 

     It was the first time in months that he had been granted no guards for an entire evening as many were preoccupied with the different activities. He was a bit nervous to be by himself as his absence had been noted by many, but his mind was clear for the first time since the devastion had started. The music picked up then slowed down every so often, so he took the opportunity to position himself near it in order to gain a dance partner the next time around. He swayed on his heels with words shooting to the person that passed him. “ Care to dance with me next? ”

     Jack wasn’t entirely certain if the events from the previous day had actually occurred or were instead a product of her worst nightmare, being called out in front of the people she admired and the ones who admired her for being something different and strange. But she knew it wasn’t a merely a product of an overactive imagination constantly thinking about the worst possible thing that could happen after what had already happened. She knew she had been outed as one of the New Bloods yesterday in front of people who would likely kill her before welcoming her wings with open arms. 

      It was far too early to be awake, but nevertheless, she found herself repeating the morning ritual that she’d been partaking in the past months, though she had had troubles with it during the past weeks. She’d wake up early to gather a few morsels of food and a small bowl of water to take to the cat who had wormed its way into her heart. Jack knew she’d been neglecting the small creature in the wake of what had happened, but she had been trying to avoid everyone. It was difficult to hide wings from people without looking like she had some sort of deformity. But now people knew, and though she didn’t necessarily want to advertise them, it was time to start living. While she still could, at least. 

      “You still love me, right?” she asked the cat, though he seemed more concerned with the food than her. She sighed, sitting down on the ground to wait for the cat to finish. “At least I don’t have to try to hide my wings behind Rahul’s name now.” 

It was late, or early depending on context but the place was busier than usual. Ryn could only attribute the boost in traffic to the event taking place at the palace, once the party ended there were plenty that wanted it to continue and they found themselves at El Corazon. eyes roamed the patrons, searching for those that were uncouth, for new and old faces alike, as they cleaned glasses and refilled them, monotonous work that made them feel grounded as the stars twinkled through the window in the back. 

The door opened and another influx of people feel within, silver or red didn’t matter here and once she had seen their faces she turned away, continuing her tasks. A new patron took a seat at the stool third from her left and she moved to them like a fish in a stream, all glides and streamlines. “excuse me, but that stool is taken.” She kept it open for one person and one person alone but she loathed the idea of using her----powers of persuasion to keep it that way. Waiting for their response she was willing to offer them a free beverage to vacate, if only to save herself from further measures.