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Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
Post by Elias Harel on Feb 1, 2017 14:43:31 GMT -7
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[attr="class","mary3"]THIS KINGDOM OF MINE,
[attr="class","mary4"]THIS GIFT FROM THE DIVINE
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Early Evening The 15th of The Empty Lantern Palace of Divinity, Hareldon
The beginning of the year had been what Elias would call a “success”.
Lord Woodrow’s new arm for Acheron had arrived, and their presence had been quick to frighten Dirys and Liesdro’s armies from Mot borders. The incoming fleet was no longer incoming - and all he had needed to do was offer the simple Lord a simple deal. It helped that Woodrow had recently come out in support of a peace treaty in Atton, a treaty which strengthened his alliances with the rest of Aebrynis, along with Vieri and Aurcaele. To Raul Dalte and Walherich Khul, Elias now had friends in high places. Muerte was now aligned with the world majority. Even if they didn’t know it.
All it had cost him was a building in each major city - pathetically simple; the right for the Peacekeepers to enact International Law where it would not combat Mot legislation - a concession on Woodrow’s part; and access to the files of The Black Cloaks - a point that may have seemed generous. Of course, The Black Cloaks had few files. Elias was not stupid enough to have such crimes be ‘on the books’. Certainly they were written down - an absence of evidence was evidence in-and-of-itself - but everything was encoded. Innocence, in the eyes of the SSPB’s staunchest investigators. Essentially: Elias had paid pennies for something worth billions.
Now his nation would look at him and see a man willing to work with world-league peacekeepers, a man able to push back not one - but two powerful countries from their borders.
Elias Harel was a hero. And so a hero’s feast was in order.
That was tonight’s event. Himself, his most honoured staff, all residents of Hareldon (in other words: his dearest friends), and of course: Lord Woodrow and his own unique selection of guests… As far as Elias knew, the Lord had invited some of his own highest-ranking allies. Pelagia Xista would be on the guest list, that could be certain. Whether she would appear… Was another matter entirely.
The evening would be a celebration. A magnificent feast of delicacies found only in Muerte (he had to admit to a mild, sadistic excitement at Lord Woodrow’s reaction); followed by a performance in his honour, a play depicting his defeat of the tyrannical regime of the unwanted Malscuri Ursine, ending of course - in celebration; and finally, a dance. Elias was not one for dancing, and would instead use the time to meet with Lord Woodrow’s acquaintances. Solidify his own deals. Many had refused to meet with him before… But with Woodrow’s approval and Elias’ own compliance with him, certainly they would be more open.
Muerte had never been so peaceful… And there had never been such opportunity for Harel and his people.
He observed himself with little vanity in the mirror near the staircase, his pupils shaped as crescents, his mood quite clear. While this would be a celebration in his honour, it would also be his chance to prey on deals, alliances, and all the trappings they came with. He was a predator. His tongue flew over his teeth, ensuring they were glinting before he finally turned about, and descended to the stairs to his waiting room. As he arrived at it’s door, he paused and smiled. He had a shadow.
“I do hope you intend to enjoy yourself this evening, Sabela,” He opened the door to the room and entered, leaving it open for her to follow. Until his servants confirmed that all guests had arrived (none could appear later than the Man of Honour himself) he would remain, and he supposed Sabela was fine enough company while they waited. “Tonight is a reward for you, as well. Though your actions cannot be so… Formally recognized.”
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[attr="class","mary3"]TAGS
[attr="class","mary4"] Sabela; Markus Woodrow, Pelagia Xista & Guest. Woodrow may invite Relos Voden, assuming you have accepted your role as secret SSPB operative. ...And, maybe Thomas Dunn: Check your PMs. Various NPCs.
Sabela stood behind her employer as he approached the door. She had no job to complete and so she was here, his constant shadow, watching over him from behind as she always did. She was very protective of him, though for what reason she couldn't tell. Surely it was because he has given her new purpose by taking her in and forming her into who she was today. Sometimes it felt like he was simply a placeholder for someone else.
She followed Elias through the door, lowering her hood as she stepped through and glancing at the man as he finished his words. "You will surely enjoy the evening well enough for us both, Elias," she responded easily, her eyes looking amused though her face betrayed little emotion. "I need no reward for what I do. The results are reward enough." Probably the man would assume she meant taking out his enemies or removing the blight of beastfolk from his land were rewards in themselves, and in a way he was right - she felt accomplished when she completed a mission. But having a purpose was the true reward for her, and it kept her well fed and practiced with her magic. The more she focused on a job, the less she could focus on the visions, the whispers.
Post by Pelagia Xista on Feb 5, 2017 8:41:15 GMT -7
Pelagia completely detested Muerte. Completely, totally, absolutely. It was, in her opinion, by far the worst place on earth, and she felt nothing but unadulterated loathing for the disgusting spit of land in the heart of Acheron. Even other Acheronites hated Muerte, seeing it only as a useful prospect for resources should it ever weaken. It was dry, arid, unseasonably hot, desolate, empty, ugly, and full of dead things. It was the land of Streike, the sister deity who was opposite to Ayniea. The land itself was as opposite to Aurcaele as one could possibly get. If Pelagia had her way, she would have never in her life paid a visit to this gods-forsaken country, and her only involvement with it would have been to eventually wipe it off the face of the planet.
But unfortunately, Pelagia did not always have things her way, and even more unfortunately, she still had a while yet that she'd be needing to play her game of succession if she wanted to usurp her Queen. So far, things were already looking quite good - Pelagia's meeting with Gwenyth Fabelle at the beginning of the previous month had gone off without a hitch. There was anger, of course, and questions for why Pelagia would spread such blatant lies about her, when she and Pelagia both knew that Pelagia had never once suggested ceasing the war effort after the discovery of the Attonians, and Fabelle had certainly never overlooked those nonexistent suggestions to urge her to continue. It was almost hilarious how the woman seemed hurt over the notion, genuinely believing there had been some grave misunderstanding between them.
When Pelagia asked for the room, excusing the others present so that she could have a private conversation of "earnest matters" with her queen, Fabelle had allowed it, excusing her advisers even despite their suspicions. And when Pelagia had proceeded to tell Gwenyth what she truly knew about her, the information she had obtained from Ichabod, it was lovely to see the color drain from Fabelle's face. She made no bold move for power then and there, of course not; she simply told her Queen that she had "bright plans" for Aurcaele's future, and merely wanted some insurance to assure Fabelle's cooperation. And that started with establishing Woodrow's offices in Aurcaele, as promised. Gwenyth did not yet know what Pelagia was truly after - for now, she seemed to believe exactly what Pelagia wanted her to. That Pelagia wanted to make changes, and was blackmailing Gwenyth into making sure those changes happened. Public disapproval and risk of her dirty little secret getting out meant Gwenyth was in no position to object, and was bowing to Pelagia's demands.
It all went quite perfectly. But the matter still remained; the public still needed to be convinced that Gwenyth was completely unfit for the throne. Pelagia had not released her secrets just yet - the time was not yet right - but the people's opinions were already coloring, no doubt hastened thanks to the aid of the demon. And Pelagia had allies now, and plenty of them. Markus Woodrow was chief among these new allies.
And unfortunately, that's where the problem was. Markus had been invited by Elias Harel of all people to attend a feast in Muerte, to celebrate Muerte's joining of the peace treaty in Atton. Muerte, which couldn't just quietly die off and leave the rest of the world alone, instead going and joining the world majority and suddenly believing that it could sit with the big leagues. And this feast was intended to be open for all of the most important members of the treaty signing to attend, in addition of course to members of nobility and even royalty. Markus had contacted Pelagia and insisted she come. Ever since their little dinner, he had warmed up to her considerably more than ever before. She was certain that he was still suspicious of her on some level, but on other levels he seemed to love the idea of them becoming good friends, or possibly something more perverse and nauseating than that, and so it was not merely Harel's invitation but also Markus's personal request that Pelagia attend this horrible feast in this horrible land.
All that alone might not have been enough to actually make her come, though. She could still use Atton as an excuse. There were still important things happening there that required her attention. But... there was the fact that while Harel had made a point of inviting royalty, it was Pelagia who received an invitation in Aurcaele, and not her queen. Queen Fabelle had been completely jilted by Muerte of all places, and the feast was bound to make headlines. The people of Aurcaele would not be impressed by Fabelle's failure to merit even an invitation while Pelagia went in her stead to represent their country. And on the contrary, they would be impressed with Pelagia because of that. It was another golden opportunity to make her people see Fabelle as lesser, inferior, and unfit, an opportunity presented to her on a golden platter by Harel. She suspected Markus may have had some level of involvement in that as well, which annoyingly meant she probably owed him an appearance as thanks for making her task easier.
And so, unable to ignore opportunity, Pelagia did indeed find herself in the worst place on earth, prepared to enjoy what was sure to be a horrid feast while she bumped elbows with several of the world's other monarchs. Monarchs who would see her face instead of Gwenyth's, and would come to associate that face with Aurcaele itself.
She arrived looking, of course, absolutely stunning. A beacon of holy beauty in a desolate wasteland, probably a metaphorical oasis to the crowds who had gathered outside of Harel's palace (at an acceptable distance, carefully monitored by his black cloaks) to see the celebrities arrive. Her choice of dress was more modest than she had chosen for her dinner with Markus a while back, most of her skin covered this time. The gown was a thing of silver silks, cut to fit her form while retaining just enough looseness to not overly emphasize anything. The sleeves and gown had tiny sequins spread across them in swirling patterns, exposing the silk while adding a radiant glitter to her movements, and the decollete, while low enough to expose cleavage on its own, came accompanied with a tight mesh that obscured it, with a similar mesh running in a cut along her sides. Her bangs had been styled to hang lightly over her left eye while the rest was lightly elevated behind her head in graceful coils.
With her wings unfurled in full display as she stepped out of her carriage onto the welcoming carpet outside the palace, she heard the citizens clamoring at the sight of her. She probably looked, to them, like an angel descended from the heavens, and others likely recognized her for who she was and what her presence here must mean. Elias was clearly projecting strength by making this event a spectacle, and having someone like Pelagia attending was as much strength as one needed to display, as far as she was concerned, and many others likely agreed. She was a silver vision across the entrance hall as she was welcomed inside, her reputation far preceding her and (thankfully for her own patience) preventing any annoying holdups for presentation of invitation at the door. Inside there was already a sizable crowd of guests gathered, which came as no surprise; Pelagia had timed her arrival to be almost late, but not quite. She'd be damned if she was going to be waiting around this dump by herself. Many inside looked to her with instant recognition when she appeared, many smiles at her visage that she gracefully returned with nods.
These were her peers. Other nobles. Other Royals. It was a small crowd, not like some of the larger galas she had attended, which in this case actually spoke more for the event's exclusivity when one assessed the actual contents of the crowd. She had to admit that for as much as she abhorred this country, she was certainly playing with the big leagues now that she was here. A few of the lesser nobles whom had merited invitation approached her without much time to waste, and she easily returned their greetings and entertained their sycophantic babble for a short spell, all while scouring the crowd for a more familiar face.
She would never admit to being thankful at the sight of Markus Woodrow, but here she was, cutting off conversation with an apology and informing the nobles that she really must go greet her friend. They seemed appeased just to have been given the time of day by her, and all too easily agreed to her dismissal. She was certainly enjoying the boost to her reputation she had recently received. With that settled she made her way towards where Markus was standing, the man in the midst of his own conversation but his eyes clearly on her already. She collected a glass of wine from a passing server as she went, and sipped at it delicately once she had entered into earshot of the Lord and his guest.
"How good it is to see you again, Markus. I see quite plainly that you were correct in your assurances; I don't think I've ever seen so many high-profile individuals in one room at one time."
OOC Notes: Looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong. Also, because I thought a lot about it, here's some reference for Pelaghia's outfits. The main dress Here, but with the sleeves and shoes Here, except, you know. White and silver instead of black. And the hairstyle is something like This, though with a bit more bangs and with the back portion hanging a little lower, not as much of an updo. Tags: Markus Woodrow
He shouldn't have been surprised that Woodrow would have invited him to an event like this, and yet, he had been surprised. Woodrow had lost his closest friend and confidant, and had every reason to rail against Tom. Instead, he had chosen to trust Tom even more. Firm up his alliances. Tom had replaced Vincent, just as Tom had hoped to do... Which was why he had been transported by airship to Submiere (a regular occurrence now, Woodrow just adored spending time with Tom), and then had boarded a ship traveling to Acheron.
The ship was filled with a slew of noble guests. Queens and Kings, leaders in war. To Woodrow, Tom was their equal. He was such an easy man to manipulate, Tom almost felt guilty. If he hadn't known better, he might have assumed that Woodrow was under his control, just like Green, or Black, or... Red2. Scarlett. His perfect experiment, his perfect child. She had done so well in Dirys, and he knew she would continue to succeed. She had become almost inseparable from him. Whenever he would leave Artavia she would be by his side.
This trip was no exception.
They arrived at the Palace of Divinity by camel-drawn carriage a bit later than most, as Tom had no interest in being perceived as eager. Of course he wasn't late either, not needing any of the nobles to think of him as a man so vain he would see himself superior to them, with or without a title. He stepped out of the carriage looking clean-cut and simple in Artavian formalwear, not heeding Woodrow's request for him to dress more 'in the style of the land countries'. His outfit consisted of a navy blue button-up, black jacket and slacks, and pockets deep enough to hide a device or two inside, devices he planned to leave without.
Scarlett, on the other hand, was dressed to the nines as any little girl ought to be for a fanciful party. He offered her his hand as they exited the carriage, and walked up the path together. He enjoyed the smallness of her hand, enjoyed knowing that she was something so unsuspecting and child-like: And he enjoyed how she was his most powerful tool. A spy who could wander the halls without a presumption of suspicion. An innocent everywhere but in her mind.
They arrived at the door and were accosted for an invitation, which Tom happily offered. The guard looked down at Scarlett, frowning a bit. He seemed to dislike the idea of a child attending this event, but not enough to open his mouth. For all he knew, Tom was one of the most important people attending this party.
And he was.
He really was.
Lord Woodrow found the two of them quickly, and before Tom could insist the man introduce Tom to some of the other guests, before Tom could send Scarlett off to 'find some punch' (or rather, eavesdrop on important conversations), the Lord had found himself offering up inane, trivial fare as conversation. This is what Vincent had dealt with for so long. Tom couldn't necessarily blame him for being so violent. He was glad when a woman determined it a ripe time to interrupt them, Tom stepping aside to permit her to enter their little circle. His eyes raked up her form slowly, smiling as he realized just who this was.
Pelagia Xista. Warlord of Aurcaele. And if the rumours were true (rumours told to him in 'secret' by Lord Woodrow himself) she was also the future Queen of Aurcaele. He bowed deeply to her, taking her hand in his and pressing her knuckles to his lips lightly before permitting her to retrieve it. "Doctor Thomas Dunn. It is my absolute honour to meet you, Queen-- My apologies, I'm getting ahead of the times, aren't I? Lord Xista. Markus informed me you might be making an appearance this evening, and I must admit to hardly being prepared for what a vision you would be." When he finally raised himself from the bow, he put a hand on Scarlett's back to move her forward slightly, impressing her to introduce herself.
OOC.Scarlet DunnPelagia Xista Bleh, that post really wasn't coming. But it's an intro! And now Tom and Red2 are present. (:
Last Edit: Feb 6, 2017 9:47:25 GMT -7 by Thomas Dunn
Though she did miss her sister when she was away from home, Red couldn’t help but puff with pride whenever Papa told her there was some adventure he was taking her on. After what felt like a lifetime of living secreted away in the basement, she got to go to parties and meetings and all sorts of interesting places!
The wedding had been difficult in Dirys because she hadn’t been quite used to so many voices, but she was beginning to get very good at identifying the way someone’s mental voice reverberated. She could identify who they came from, now; with little effort, especially when there were less than 10 people in a room.
Tonight would be a test.
Red listened quietly to Papa’s buzzing mind on the trip over; he was always thinking something very smart, and she listened often and closely to his thoughts in the hope of someday being as clever as he was.
He called her Red2, which she had almost gotten used to... but only almost. It seemed strange to her, to be the second to someone she had never met, had no memory of. To herself, of course, she was just Red, no 2, no ‘Scarlett’, the name that wasn’t her name. The other Red – the first one – was like a dream to her, present only in Papa’s head and in her own scattered memories. None of her siblings remembered him, either... and the girl wondered with a kind of detached longing if she would ever just be ‘Red’ to Papa.
When they arrived, all melancholy quickly subsided, the thrill of stepping from the carriage and seeing all those people making her heart flutter up to her throat. She shot a lopsided grin at the masses, waving briefly, before skipping over to Papa; shoulders squared, chin high, cheeks nearly the shade of her hair from her consistent grin.
They looked quite the pair, her and Papa, because she’d chosen a navy dress to match his shirt, a string of black pearls sitting on her collar, shiny ebony mary-janes peaking out from below her dress. Green had helped her flatten her hair so that it hung stick-straight down her back, held away from her face by a headband of navy rosebuds.
Red heard Papa’s intention of offering his hand to her before he did it, so reached up just before he extended the limb, clutching with pale fingers when their hands joined, nervousness clear only in that brief squeeze.
She took joy in that small sign of affection while she could. She knew her place would be among the party’s guests, hearing their secrets.
This was what all her practice had been for.
An innocent everywhere but in her mind.
When the guard at the door looked at her, mind fraught with I’ve no protocol for children. What am I supposed to do? I can’t very well tell him she can’t come in – but, really, what sort of man brings his kid to an event like this? – she shot him a toothy smile, periwinkle eyes glittering.
Not like I can say anything.
He shooed them in.
Markus was quick to notice Papa, and Red listened dutifully as they talked small, though she tried not to smile at the way Papa despised it so – internally, of course.
Markus, however, was quickly distracted by someone named Pelagia, and when Red turned to see who it was that could possibly distract anyone from Papa, the girl’s mouth nearly dropped straight to the floor.
She was probably the most beautiful lady Red had ever seen; and she shimmered lightly with each step, sequins twinkling in the light.
Remembering her manners, Red shut her mouth – but after a moment of obvious gawking.
"How good it is to see you again, Markus. I see quite plainly that you were correct in your assurances; I don't think I've ever seen so many high-profile individuals in one room at one time."
But she absolutely hated it here, despite what she said. Red wondered why she came at all.
Papa knew who she was, too, and even bowed to her, which saw Red’s brows nearly disappear into her hairline.
"Doctor Thomas Dunn. It is my absolute honour to meet you, Queen-- My apologies, I'm getting ahead of the times, aren't I? Lord Xista. Markus informed me you might be making an appearance this evening, and I must admit to hardly being prepared for what a vision you would be."
And then Papa’s hand was on her back, and it was her turn.
Red – as she had practiced so many times before – dipped into a deep curtsy, hanging there for a long moment, chin to her chest, before popping back up to beam at Pelagia.
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Post by Elias Harel on Feb 10, 2017 11:43:36 GMT -7
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[attr="class","mary3"]THIS KINGDOM OF MINE,
[attr="class","mary4"]THIS GIFT FROM THE DIVINE
[attr="class","mary5"] He smiled: This was why he enjoyed Sabela. Both she and Arzuul were so dedicated to their work. Both saw the greatness that he was working to achieve, and both served it as he did. All three of them were slaves to the otherworldly purpose Harel was gifted with the knowledge of. He could not ask for more skilled, more dedicated - more perfect associates than Sabela and Arzuul.
"Perhaps so much is true," He smiled, taking a seat in a cushioned chair and observing her. It almost shocked him that she had not been his ally from the beginning of all this. A surprise that they had merely stumbled across her in the desert, dried out, lost, forgotten - and forgetting. A gift from Streike, he had called her.
Suddenly, he made a sound of realization and leaned to grasp a folder from under his chair. He flicked through it briefly, smiled in a devious fashion, and offered Sabela the file. It contained information on one of the guests he had invited. Some noble desperate for attention - the kind of man who had no reason to be in a room full of royalty. This guest was not here for him. He was here for dear Sabela. Arzuul would receive a similar prize.
"You may not need a reward, but you deserve one. This most honoured guest is your's, my dear. Do what you want with him."
Post by Markus Woodrow on Feb 10, 2017 13:38:53 GMT -7
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[attr="class","mwoody3"]A PREDATOR OF THE SEAS
[attr="class","mwoody4"]CURING THIS OCEAN DISEASE
[attr="class","mwoody5"] Lord Woodrow had been quite pleased with how his officers were doing in Muerte. The Black Cloaks were surprisingly open about the work they had been doing in Muerte, and except for the treatment of beastfolk and dissenters it was... Squeaky clean. And even then, Harel had no expectation that the SSPB would contribute to such distasteful matters. They were here to enact righteous laws - and to close off another avenue for the pirates. There had been a time where Muerte was a hotbed of crime - not anymore. Between Woodrow and Harel, there was hardly a place safer.
He had arrived earlier than most. It was not his goal to appear eager - but he needed to bridge the divide between Harel and the rulers he allied with. His largest concern was King Toran. Feofil had his ear, and had made it quite clear to Woodrow that he disapproved of the partnership. No matter how Woodrow tried to convince him that it was for the good of all - Feofil was left with discomfort. Harel signing the Broken Fort Treaty was hardly a point in his favour.
He busied himself with Toran until he determined the man was open to Harel's 'ways', and then worked through the crowd of his friends and allies until spotting the one he was most interested in. Thomas Dunn - and his daughter, who Woodrow had heard enough of to place. Scarlett, her name was?
Woodrow enjoyed Tom. Appreciated him. Yes, their relationship had been built on misinformation - but when things had become so muddled for Woodrow, when he had suffered the stings of betrayal from Vincent and Tehodis, Tom had been more honest. And he had shown himself to be more of a friend than Vincent had ever been.
There was one other person he had to admit excitement for, of course. A woman who he had invited, whom he was certain wouldn't appear... Until he'd heard of her vessel arriving earlier that day. Pelagia Xista. He had gone from despising the woman and believing her to be an entity of evil - a criminal of the highest regard - to deeply... Appreciating her. She was beautiful, far more beautiful than the one-armed harlot he'd so wrongly been obsessed with, and she held power that managed to be a candle in his blazing furnace. His eyes moved to her the moment she entered, drinking in the sight of her. Less skin than in their private meeting - which he would misconstrue in the precise way she intended - and yet still a ravishing sight to behold.
"I'm a man of truth and integrity, Pelagia," He smiled at her approach, watching (perhaps with a tinge of jealousy) as Tom greeted her. The expression on his face was quick to relax, however, and he permitted himself to smile again at the young Scarlett Dunn. It was clear she hadn't been raised by a noble - but it was charming. "Indeed she is, Miss Dunn," He responded, eyes on Pelagia, "Stunning as always."
Post by Violet Macar on Feb 11, 2017 8:47:07 GMT -7
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There were many reasons she was in Muerte, and many reasons too, that her goal this evening was to infiltrate the Palace of Divinity, impossible as it may seem.
She was exploring a lead on the missing centaur younglings. It hadn't been a stretch to assume that perhaps Muerte had something to do with it, what with their reputation of unabashed racism and all that... But some might have thought it a stretch that Elias Harel would know anything about it. Violet, though, had a hunch. She just knew there was something fishy. The Black Cloaks' fingerprints were all over this mess.
And that wasn't the only thing they were all over. The other lead she was following up on was Kikuriku's missing mother and dead best friend. Elias Harel had killed him, he'd claimed. Was there really much reason to think that he wouldn't be involved in the absentee parent? Even if it was just a hair that she found - that would be enough to set her off on this investigation.
Then there was the matter of Tom. Originally, she'd assumed he was going to Submiere - and well, he did. When he'd arrived in Submiere though (yes, okay, Violet had followed him there and maybe just maybe that was inappropriate but it wasn't because of what she'd seen) he met up with Lord Markus Woodrow of all people, and the two of them came here. To Muerte. She was even more shocked when they came here to the Palace of Divinity. Tom. Woodrow. Scarlett. Why in the world would Tom be invited to a shindig like this? Violet needed to know.
Her final reason was her least selfish of course. Her editor had granted her permission to do some investigating for some 'harder hitting' tales in The Tablet, but had downright insisted that she still give him some classic Daisy gossip to keep his pages full. She wanted to refuse and insist she was a serious journalist now, but when he told her about Elias Harel's shindig, by gosh and darn she was in.
So here she was, slinking in the shadows to try and make it to the door. A task harder than one might usually think. The sun in Muerte didn't seem to like to go down particularly early, and it shone hot and bright in the cloudless sky. The shadows were few and far between, and dammit... She hadn't practiced this whole 'shadow-walking' thing. She'd found herself sticking to a wall that had a small shadow, and that was losing shadow as the sun set and pointed more and more towards it.
Thankfully, she was blessed.
A guard walked past, none the wiser to the ajatar melted in with the shadows near him. It'd hurt to jump to his shade - it wasn't close enough to her shadow - but it'd be worth it. She made the jump, felt her head and eyes sear and prick with pain, but was now inside his shadow... And he was going...
Not inside.
Jumpin' jehosafats, this was gonna be a challenge.
OOC. Gonna slowly work my way inside every few posts... Then she'll be shapeshifted into another guest. I was thinking maybe she'll mistakenly pick the form of Sabela's target, for interest? Or maybe just one of the rando nobles to be sneaky.
Elias sat and Sabela continued to stand, ever watchful, ever vigilant. They would wait just a bit longer, she knew. Until the room beyond was full and a grand entrance would be made as Elias Harel deigned to make his appearance. Sabela would follow dutifully behind, or if he saw fit perhaps on his arm, his escort for the evening as she kept watch over him and the other guests.
She had dressed for the occasion, Harel had insisted, but luckily he had not insisted on anything overly poofy or frilly or skin-tight. The dress he had provided her was similar in style to the plain ones she wore everyday, though with some marked differences. It was sleeveless which would display the tattoos on her forearms, and though the bodice was lightly fitted it hung loosely from the waist down in a comfortable waterfall of black silks. The bodice was decorated with diamonds both above her bust on sheer fabric and below her bust in a triangular shape that extended around her waist in a belt of shining stones.
It was not a plain dress as it had to befit the companion of such an important man, but it was also not overly elaborate or flashy as she still wanted to maintain a low profile, and of course didn’t want to compete with any of the more important guests. Her shoes were plain black heels, and her white hair fell in loose waves. Many women prefer undos for such an occasion but Sabela didn’t want her hair to get in the way of her hood. She wouldn’t be wearing her cloak into the room though - she would only stand out and seem the more suspicious if she did so.
Elias reached under his chair and pulled out a file of some sort which he flipped through with a smile before handing over to her. Sabela turned through the pages as well, eyes lingering on the portrait of a man who Elias stated was her ‘reward’. He said the guest was hers to do with what she pleased, and her eyes narrowed on the picture hungrily. It had been a few days since she had eaten, and while she could go longer without marked weakness she always preferred to be well-fed.
She wondered briefly what the noble had done to gain Harel’s ire, and if he had any idea the danger he had put himself in by doing so. It didn’t matter of course - his actions may have been judged unfit in life by mortals but they would be judged fairly in the afterlife. By tonight his time on this plane would be over.
”You spoil me,” she replied, her gaze moving from the portrait to the face of her employer. ”Is it almost time?”
Post by Pelagia Xista on Feb 11, 2017 21:39:45 GMT -7
Well well. Mr. Dunn was quite the bold fellow, and also a rather obvious boot-licker with his mention of the Queen business. Of course, she couldn't speak much for Markus's intelligence if he had been the one to inform this Thomas Dunn of the likely events of the future. For a man who persecuted criminals as his life's calling, he certainly didn't seem to have much of a sense of plausible deniability. It was too soon to be making such claims of Pelagia's royalty.
She took it with grace, of course, an expert at never betraying her true intentions with her actions or expressions, and simply smiled in a charmed fashion at Thomas's greeting and the kiss to her knuckles. She'd have liked to punch him for doing something like that without her offering her hand first, but again, she restrained herself. Instead she focused on the lavish compliments he, his daughter, and Markus chose to bestow upon her.
"You're all too kind," she replied, her expression one of modesty. "And Mr. Dunn, you honor me with your statement, but please; Her Majesty Gwenyth Fabelle is Queen of Aurcaele, and she is doing a brilliant job of making amends for her actions. I am but a humble servant of my land." This, of course, was spoken with grace as opposed to admonishment, but the message remained clear. It was not wise to go touting about the succession of royalty when such statements could presently still be treasonous.
"And as for you," she said, now to the girl. She knelt down to the little lady's eye level, her arms folded across her bent knees as she gave her warmest smile. She didn't know why a child was here, but every opportunity to impress should always be capitalized on. She spoke to her in an almost motherly fashion, the way she imagined she might ever speak to her own daughter if she had one. "You are very kind and forthcoming with your compliments. I see a beautiful woman emerging of you in years to come as well. Thank you very much."
With her pleasantries given, she returned to standing at her full height, looking once more to Markus. The way he had looked at her when she approached, the way his eyes had flashed down to her hand as Thomas had given it his kiss... she believed she was having exactly the desired effect on the man. This relationship was advancing just as she'd hoped it would, sickening though that may have been. "And may I say, Markus, that you are looking exceptionally dashing this evening. I'm sure many must feel privileged to be standing in this room with you. And I suppose fine gentleman do flock together," she added, turning her attention to Thomas. She didn't know, nor really care, who he was, and she especially didn't think there was anything particularly attractive about him. But tonight was a night for being social and swallowing her disgust, and learning more about the people that Markus surrounded himself with would only benefit her. "How might you be acquainted with Markus?"
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