#rawtalents

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷:   @rawtalents,   + naim.

   the  football  field  always  looked  different  before  sunset  .  there  weren't  crowds  to  perform  for  .  no  whistles  barking  across  the  grass  .  no  teammates  yelling  over  one  another  until  every  sentence  became  background  noise  .  just  dew  clinging  to  the  turf  like  the  earth  hadn't  quite  decided  whether  it  wanted  to  sleep  yet  ,  the  goalposts  standing  skeletal  against  a  bruised  sky  ,  and  mason  moving  through  drills  he'd  stopped  needing  coaches  to  assign  years  ago  . he  liked  it  that  way  .  routine  was  easier  than  thought  .  left  .  right  .  plant  .  pivot  .  repeat  until  his  lungs  burned  enough  to  drown  out  everything  else  .

   the  camera  click  came  first  .  he  probably  would've  missed  it  if  he  hadn't  decided to take a mini break . but there he was , near the bench to gulp back some water  ,  and  the  sound  was  unmistakable to him  .  his  head  snapped  toward  the  bleachers  before  the  sound  had  even  finished  echoing  ,  narrowing  onto  the  lone  figure  perched  a  few  rows  up  with  a  camera  balanced  in  practiced  hands  .  there  was  something  almost  irritatingly  peaceful  about  them  sitting  there  ,  like  they  belonged  in  the  evening  more  than  he  did  . he  let  another  pass  roll  harmlessly  away  before  stalking  toward  the  fence  ,  football  tucked  beneath  one  arm  .

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷:   @rawtalents,   + billy.

   the  fries  had  gone  cold  somewhere  between  her  second  cup  of  coffee  and  whatever  thought  she  had  been  chewing  on  before  it  dissolved  into  another  one  .  they  sat  abandoned  beneath  the  glow  of  the  tabletop  lamp  ,  limp  and  salted  and  forgotten  .  casper  dragged  one  through  a  puddle  of  ketchup  anyway  ,  more  out  of  habit  than  hunger  .

   the  diner  existed  in  that  strange  hour  where  everything  felt  suspended  .  not  empty  .  not  busy  .  just  lingering  .  an old man  nursing  black  coffee  at  the  counter  .  someone  asleep  three  booths  over  with  their  head  tucked  into  crossed  arms  .  the  hum  of  the  refrigerators  behind  the  kitchen  doors  .  she  liked  places  like  this  .  places  where  nobody  expected  anything  from  her  .

   the  bell  above  the  entrance  chimed  .  casper  glanced  up  automatically  .  and  then  looked  twice  .  there  was  something  almost  cinematic  about  seeing  billy  at  this  hour  .  her  gaze  lingered  a  second  longer  than  it  normally  would  have  . just  enough  to  take  her  in  .  the  tiredness  hidden  beneath  the  surface  .  the  remnants  of  a  long  shift  .  the  kind  of  exhaustion  that  wrapped  itself  around  a  person  without  managing  to  dim  them  .  pretty  .  the  thought  arrived  plainly  and  left  just  as  quickly  .

   then  billy's  eyes  found  hers  .  casper  didn't  look  away  .  instead  ,  she  lifted  a  single  fry  between  two  fingers  .  "  if  you're  here  to  save  me  from  these  fries  …  "  she  said  ,  deadpan  .  "  i'm  afraid  you're  about  twenty  minutes  too  late  .  "  the  corner  of  her  mouth  tilted  upward  .  not  quite  a  smile  .  close  enough  .

"can you do me a favor?" bear glances away from the structure in front of them, turning his full attention - momentarily - to the classmate standing beside him. "i'm practicing my wall scaling skills. do you think you could be my spotter, make sure i don't slip?" surely there were safer locations to practice in - like a rock climbing wall, with professional employees and safety harnesses, but where was the fun in that? "last time i almost got to the third story."

he knew lorent would find him eventually. not that ryker was worried. as much as the youngest prince tried to blend into the crowd, more for his sake and the commoners than trying to obscure himself from his royal guard, ryker didn't go out of his way to remain hidden. still, ryker was enjoying himself. he wasn't completely carefree like a typical party prince, which he couldn't even be classified as — they weren't really something he partook in; no, that was a little more his older brother's circle and mailk himself wasn't typical either.

the brunette trained (and studied) hard days and nights and as such allowed himself some fun in the city; even if it was frowned upon. he knew it wasn't always safe but ryker was more than capable of protecting himself in the streets — and he knew well enough not go venture to the more shady parts of the city. the young feinhalnaar had already imbibed some alcohol at a non-descript tavern; this one in particular becoming a bit of a regular haunt of his, even if he tended to rotate establishments so as to retain a little anonymity. it was certainly a little foolish he knew, especially since his fingers tend to go into places it shouldn't. (occasionally he even returned his spoils for he had no practical need of them, leaving his marks none the wiser.) he had no qualms about getting caught, confident in his skills, though he was sure the guards that worked around these parts would not recognise him at all or call him a fraud or petty thief trying to pose as someone they shouldn't if he ever was apprehended, in possession of the royal seal or not. and then he'd really be in all sorts of trouble.

　　while not a vain person, solomon does take pride in his looks. if he was to point out a favourite part of himself, he'd say his arms. the clearest reflection of the hard work he's put on his body, with well-built biceps that can carry the weight of his sword with ease. in a less practical sense, he is fond of his fiery red hair, passed from his mother on to him. 　　in a partner though, he can't deny he is easily attracted to a man with chiselled features. thick muscles, particularly thighs and rear, also catch his attention, even if he makes it a point to not obvious about it. it can be difficult though, especially during finer events where a dress code is set. the hug of fine velvet and silks around the mighty body of a warrior? absolute perfection.

the weather in vissai was most unpredictable during nighttime. high above sea level, the wind howled a despondent song as the moon gradually rose higher. no more was the searing heat the sun brought; replaced by bone-chilling cold that could freeze you on your feet.

balthor sat unperturbed atop of a stone, casting his gaze on the expanse of vissai ahead of him. it painted a beautiful sight, but he was always glad to retreat into nature, away from the hustle and bustle. the majority of the vissaians knew that he took periodic break every two to three moon cycles to collect ores and precious metals himself. what they didn't know was that balthor simply disappeared for an extended period of time to seek respite. while being the blacksmith was a fulfilling job, it wasn't where his heart lay.