emoryosanos-blog

[emoryosanos-blog]

jacalynblake:

location ;; outdoors date ;; 04/24, 6:00 a.m. status ;; open

     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.” 

In the wake of the mess Orion had made, Emory was doing his best to fade into the background. Plenty of people had been coming to him with questions--and he couldn’t blame them. He was, after all, the king’s closest confidant. At least, he had once been the king’s closest confidant. Now, he hadn’t the slightest idea what was running through Orion’s mind, and while he didn’t blame people for having questions he couldn’t answer them. 

Emory woke before the sun, which wasn’t rare but hadn’t been a habit of his lately. It was just so impossible to sleep when he felt his best friend’s rule crumbling, when he felt as though he had to do something to hold it together. For now, though, he just wanted to be alone--to avoid any more questions he couldn’t answer. He escaped the castle, roamed the mostly empty courtyard, and tried his best to ignore the piercing glares sent his way. People might be misplacing their anger on him, but Emory knew it was better him than Orion. 

The sight of the angelic New Blood was enough to stop Emory in his tracks. Most New Bloods had the privilege of hiding, but she was so obvious and so unsafe. He felt a tinge of guilt building in his chest. Perhaps if he’d planned his words to Orion more carefully--perhaps if he’d supervised the king more closely--she would still be safe. He stood silently for a moment, watching her with the cat and contemplating turning on his heels before she could see him. She’d probably blame him, too, and that was exactly why he was actively avoiding everyone.

That same sense of guilt, however, is what kept him glued in place. It would only make him more guilty if he ignored the mess the king had made. “It won’t be like this forever,” he said, his voice shaky. He couldn’t help but lock his gaze on her wings--was it rude to stare? He couldn’t not. “The king will make this better.” Emory wasn’t sure of that--of course he wasn’t. Orion didn’t even deserve his confidence any more, but Emory couldn’t shake his own loyalty. 

[emoryosanos-blog]

ofsilentbeauty:

For her entire life, Leira knew the values of Silver society and more importantly, she knew the values her mother held and passed on to her. On her lifelong quest to be perfect, she memorized these values and ideals and molded her behavior around them. To be perfect, one had to marry an eligible suitor, always someone of the opposite gender, and raise a family. Women were to smile and attend parties on their husbands’ arms while men were to work. Arguments and disagreements happened only behind closed doors and the outside world was only to see pristine smiles rather than tears and faces red with anger. This was the reality Leira knew and Emory threatened that with his public declarations of love for the king of all people.

Her heart pumped guilt along with silver blood. Despite the guilt she felt for scolding her brother, who rarely showed her anything other than kindness, but the idea of her perfect family slipping through her hands kept her from keeping her mouth shut. Until now, even when Emory went to become a member King’s personal guard despite their parents’ wishes, she saw her family as perfect, if not slightly cold. Yet, she felt that idea shattering before her eyes with her mother buried and Emory making a laughing stock out of their family name.

“Why would I not be on his side? It is clear you are making a mockery of the Osanos name every second you continue to go against tradition.” Leira glared at him. “Perhaps using mother is an uncouth thing to do, however, is he wrong? Every day of my life, she pushed me to be perfect and I assume she did the same with you. Do you think parading a relationship with a man that probably won’t last long would fit into her ideals of perfect?” Pausing briefly, she scoffed. “And what does he know? What our mother expected from us?”

In Leira’s mind, she knew everything important about their mother. From her favorite book to her favorite dress, she knew nearly everything about Lady Osanos. Countless hours were spent memorizing the values her mother held close to her heart. Most of all, she knew how their mother would react if Leira decided to admit her feelings for Lei on national television.  "When what?“ She huffed.

"What actions caused this family to crumble other than you being so thoughtless after mother’s death? What other problems could a near perfect family have other than a stubborn and selfish son who holds himself over the family’s legacy?”

Leira was so clueless that it broke his heart. The only thing worse than enduring the tsunami of the Osanos family, he thought, was enduring it and assuming it was a gentle wave all along. He didn’t want that for his sister--but what was the alternative? Finding out her entire life had been built on a foundation of lies? He didn’t want that for her either, and that was what had kept his mouth shut for over eighteen years. 

He hadn’t noticed he was shaking until every part of him quivered, until his hands would not stay still. He trembled with an anger that her words only made worse. He’d been carrying the blame of an entire family on his shoulders for so long that now he buckled under the weight. He was tired of being the villain--especially in the eyes of his baby sister, the same baby he’d cradled in his arms twenty years ago. 

“Our family has never been perfect,” Emory spat. He wanted to believe that it was best to be honest with her, but the truth was that he didn’t know. He didn’t know what was best. “It’s easy for you to blame me because you were too young to see what I saw. You did not see her falling in love with women she called friends, and then pretending not to be heartbroken when she went back to father. It’s disgusting--the way he can act like he did not absolutely oppress her.”

The truth was finally out, and it hung heavily in the air. It did not make the weight on Emory’s shoulders feel any less. Instead, he just felt more guilty. Perhaps he should have accepted the blame instead of speaking ill of the dead. Perhaps it was wrong to defend himself when he knew the truth would shatter his sister’s young heart.

“I shouldn’t have--” Emory now realized the levity of his words. Unfortunately, he realized it too late. He’d spoken too soon, without thinking, and he was sure he’d left Leira with more questions than answers. He trained his eyes on the ground, lip quivering as if it were holding back more words he’d later regret. “I promised her I would never tell you.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

jacob-riley:

Jacob leaned back on the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His posture was no less arrogant than it had been in high school, but he certainly had done more to earn it by now. Many of his classmates were successful, he would grant them that, but he was certain most of them had been waiting for him to fail and he had done just the opposite. Sure, he never much left New York except on rare occasions for work, but he’d built a successful career here, had a home in the heart of New York City he afforded on his own. He’d made New York his home now. A brow raised slightly as someone approached him at the bar. “Well, I wasn’t exactly sure I would see you here.”

Emory hadn’t stopped checking his phone since he’d gotten to the reunion, constantly checking for messages from the babysitter. He hated leaving the kids for so long. The reunion was supposed to be fun, he reminded himself, so he made his way over to the bar. Maybe a glass or two would settle him. The sight of Jacob surprised him more than it should have. It hadn’t been long since the two last saw each other, but to see the man in such a social environment was a bit of a shock. “Me? I wasn’t even sure if you got out anymore,” Emory paid another quick glance to his phone before tucking it in his pocket. He ordered a drink before turning back to Jacob. “Enjoying yourself?”

[emoryosanos-blog]

ofsilentbeauty:

date: May 6th  location: reunion status: open

        Leira looked around the reunion, searching for any of her friends. Approaching someone, she said, “ I��ve certainly missed New York, though, I doubt much could beat the beaches my research often takes me to. Of course, New York has its benefits. such as the ability to see my wife on a regular basis. ” A slight blush crept onto her cheeks. “ And I can not wait to visit the Central Park Zoo again. I  always have a magnificent time there and I believe Lei enjoys it too. Is there are anything you are looking forward to doing ? ”

           The place was crowded with people Emory hadn’t seen in years, so naturally it was a relief when his sister made her way over. Over the years they’d grown closer than ever, and as their lives settled so did their relationship. “I look forward to you taking the girls to the zoo,” Emory gave her a hopeful smile. He hadn’t asked her to do any babysitting yet, but he was hopeful that she would. “So I can do some writing, at home, alone.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

ofsilentbeauty:

Since the masquerade ball, Leira had done her best to avoid family dinners. Sitting in front of her brother and father as they bickered left her too much time to think. Worry attacked her from all angles, over the Crownstrial and the kiss she shared with Lei. The more time she spent around her family, the worry only grew and with limited contact with Lei, both more than freaked out by the encounter in the Room of Darkness, she found no reprieve from it. Instead, she counted her heartbeat and matched her breathing to the brief pauses between Lord Osanos’s anger-laced words. She stared at the untouched food in front of her, doing her best not to flinch at her father’s words directed towards Emory. Occasionally, she looked up and exchanged a few words before the silence once again settled upon them and suffocated her.

At her father’s next words, she looked up and guilt forced itself to the front of her mind. His words reminded her of the things she spat at Emory in anger before. “Why would you say that?” She asked. Yet, the words would have remained better thought than spoken, the question more so directed to herself. “I’m going to talk to him.” Without another word, she left her father to sulk in his anger alone.

“Emory—” She opened her mouth, prepared to comfort her brother, yet, “You should not put such care into his words. Before now you never put stock into his words. Besides, I imagine he would have had no reason to say that had you not decided to make a mockery of the family name in order to continue some idiotic fling with you started with the king. You have brought this upon yourself when you decided the enter the Crownstrial. I believe our father has a right to be angry about you decisions when history will always remember them.”

Emory tried to move himself out of place, tried to shuffle his feet away from the door of the dining room. It was only a matter of time before someone came after him, and he wasn’t in the mood to be chastised. Still, he felt it impossible to wrench his feet from the place they were glued to. His father’s words echoed in his head, and he wanted to stop it--to muffle the words, at least. Your mother is rolling in her grave, Emory heard it again. He hated that his father used a dead woman to make him feel so awful. And not just a dead woman, but a dead woman who had the same dreams for herself as Emory did--a dead woman who was too afraid to do what Emory has done. He wondered what she would have to say about that, about being used as a method of making her son feel guilty.

The second he heard the door opening, Emory again found his ability to move. He took a hurried step forward, but stopped when he heard Leira’s voice. He turned to face her, his eyes avoiding hers. When she started speaking, his father’s voice in his head began to fade. She was actually attempting to comfort him, not taking their father’s side. But then--there it was. Emory nearly winced at her words. She doesn’t understand what she’s saying, he told himself, she doesn’t know what she’s defending. He tried his best to hold himself back, to swallow his words. It was best not to stir things up when Leira just didn’t know. But an anger bubbled its way up from his stomach, crawling up into his chest, scratching at his throat. 

“You’re on his side?” Emory looked at her now, his brow knitting together. “You see what he’s doing, don’t you? He’s using mother to make me feel more guilty, because he knows--”

He knows she could never be with who she loved. He knows she sacrificed everything for a normal life. He knows I’m ruining that for her.

“Let him be angry. But to bring her up when--” Emory couldn’t say it. Not now--not like this. Leira didn’t deserve to find out like this. “Let him be angry. But to pin this all on me, when this family was ruined long before I made any decision...that is not just.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

bvrner:

     “ Emory, you would ruin me if I allowed you to. ” Orion hated to admit such a flaw about himself, but the person in front of him held too much of his heart to deny it to be true. “ What am I to call you now that we have dove into another area of our friendship? Am I to call you my lover? What title would be enough for you? Will you fight hard enough to become my king alongside me? Will you reign with me? ” He felt himself gasp lightly at Emory’s lips with the direction of the evening becoming very apparent. “ Tell me what to call you, and the title is easily yours to possess, ” he whispered against Emory’s lips before mimicking his own actions as their bodies were soon to become one.

— time jump.

     Orion made getting dressed look easy as he was already snapping his pants moments after the two shared a moment that no one else could know about. He knew he was probably severely missed at the party, and he almost hated himself for giving into the emotions Emory stirred within himself. He dreamed that one day they would be able to live outside the walls of private rooms where these moments would be shown to the world, bragged about even. However, he had to swallow such naive thoughts as destiny would soon show that their journey to becoming one would be faltered by the loss on Emory’s end. For this moment though, they had to live in the unknown of how twisted and complicated their lives would soon be.

     “ I must return to the rest of my guest, Emory. I — ” He wanted to say that what they just did shouldn’t have happened, but he wasn’t strong enough to deny his friend such harsh words yet. “ I wish this moment could last an eternity, ” he whispered as he waited patiently for Emory to dress before walking towards the door. “ Give me a few minutes to blur into the crowd before you walk out. I would love to see you in my chambers later if you wish to sneak about the castle in the morning hours. ” With that, he opened the door and disappeared back into the room where music and various people begging for a dance captured his attention away from what just happened.

“Will you call me anything I ask? Will you call me...daddy?”

[emoryosanos-blog]

DATE: the day after emory’s second battle LOCATION: the osanos household STATUS: closed to @ofsilentbeauty

The past half an hour had been unbearable. At least--Emory assumed it had been half an hour. With how slowly the minutes were crawling by, however, he really could not be sure. The tension in the air was heavy and suffocating, and Emory remembered why the Osanos family hadn’t eaten together since his mother’s death. Leira and his father seemed to be ignoring the tension: they’d both fallen into a pattern of exchanging a few words, mostly about Crownstrial, and then falling silent. Emory, on the other hand, couldn’t get a word out. Every time his father made a biting comment about his loss or his streak of disappointment, Em felt his face get hotter--but he didn’t open his mouth. No, he stayed quiet until he couldn’t handle it any longer.

“Your mother is rolling in her grave,” Lord Osanos said as a servant refilled his wine glass, “First you disappoint us by competing against your own sister, and then you cannot even compete well.”

It was the first time anyone had mentioned Lady Osanos all evening, and suddenly the tension was wrapping itself around Em’s throat. His hands curled into fists, and he stood without asking. It was rare of him to leave the table without asking, but in his anger he forgot his manners. “Maybe you should stop threatening to disown me and just do it already,” Emory spat. He threw his napkin down on his plate and exited the dining room, despite the gravity of the situation weighing down on him. 

He’d meant to leave the Osanos quarters entirely, but instead he stood just outside the door: hovering, as if wanting someone to confront him.

[emoryosanos-blog]

lydiahowe:

      Lydia had never seen something so extravagant and stunning in her life. The pool was magical, yet at the same time, she’d refused to don a bathing costume. Instead, she stood at the very edges, trying not to get wet while she took it all in. There was no way she was exposing so much skin, and she couldn’t very well wear gloves into a pool without someone looking on in suspicion, could she? Though she longed to do so nonetheless. Instead, she was working around the edges when she was spotted by the man of the hour himself: Emory Osanos. She blushed at any sort of attention at all — while Nyssa had been kind to her before, the rest of the competitors were almost celebrity-like strangers, their status so far above hers as to be unimaginable.

      His words were sad, freezing her in place in spite of her desire to run from that attention. What would someone with all that power, all that beauty and wealth, have to be so upset about? ❝ Forgive me if I speak out of turn, ❞ Lydia began, a nervous shuffle of her shoulders accompanying the words, ❝ but it’s my understanding that all you need to do to earn a room is win. And it doesn’t really matter how, does it? ❞ She lowered her eyes before trying to remember what Nyssa had told her about company being okay even if she was a Red, and looking up again. ❝ So… maybe you should worry about deserving something else. Morally, it’s not hard to deserve the room, is it? ❞       

         The flash of red hair tricked Emory at first, for the fiery mane reflected that of his sister’s. The voice, however, was unfamiliar. Somehow, the unfamiliarity was comforting. There was something about venting to a stranger, someone mysterious hiding behind a mask, that was thrilling. The moment he glanced at her he noticed the red undertone in her skin, the rosy blush creeping up her neck and underneath her mask. Good, he thought, then anything I say will likely be disregarded by her. Red blood meant he was unlikely to see her again; even though she knew who he was, he didn’t know her, and he would never have to face the embarrassment of his admission. 

        “I suppose so. This round of Crownstrial is not about morality,” Emory looked away again, a crease in his brow hiding beneath his mask. Morality might have no place in physical battles, but it still clawed at his chest and made him feel guilty regardless. “I do not know who decides what I deserve, anyway.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

decadentlonging:

In front of them stood the absolute last person in the world they were willing to tolerate, and for a moment Rahul’s mind went white with anger. There were precious few things Emory could say to help the situation, and they had already wasted the seconds meant for appeasement. “She will survive,” they responded, words clipped. Each syllable was bitter on their tongue. She was stronger than that, to let one defeat at the hands of a boy such as him break her. 

Their eyes fluttered closed as they searched for a response that was more than bald-faced rage–more than only what Emory deserved from them. How dare he come with his quavering voice and bowed head to ask for forgiveness as if he hadn’t been in control in the arena. As if he had suddenly found again his empathy for the love of one’s sister, or even for another person’s pain, that had gone inexplicably missing in a matter of minutes when faced with a crowd and a score. 

“Are you proud?” they asked, eyes snapping open to spear him with their dark gaze. Warring within them was the impulse to snap at him for knowing better (she is my sister you could have ended it how is this necessary is he worth this) with the primal desire to lash out for his disloyalty (I thought we understood one another what happened to friendship was that ever real) and they could not choose a side, pulled as they were in both directions; a thousand vile words lined themselves up in their mind, ready to cut deep into the man before them one after another until he was as shredded as their sister had been minutes ago. They only held back to spare him that pain all at once–or to prolong his torture. “Did you enjoy yourself out there?”

Emory’s heart hurt more with every beat. It was the first time he’d considered that maybe Crownstrial wasn’t worth it. Maybe love wasn’t worth tearing apart other people’s lives. At least, that’s what he felt when he looked into Rahul’s eyes. It was like they knew how to guilt-trip him without saying a word. The gaze was enough, but the words that came afterward made his heart sink deeper into his stomach. Are you proud? Emory had never considered himself a prideful person, and he thought Rahul understood--but it was becoming clear that, now, Em was compromising his personal ideals. This couldn’t be who he was, not really. Crownstrial was changing him without his permission.

“Of course not, I--” Emory stopped himself. He didn’t know how to reply to that. You know me, he wanted to say, I’m not like that. He couldn’t get the words out; he wasn’t sure they were true. “I’m just doing what I have to, Rahul. You know what this means to me.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

ettacpal:

April 15th 11:20 pm Room of Mirrors Open

     Giggles ricochet off of polished glass. From the corner of her eye Etta catches brocade skirt swirling - whether it is reflection or truth is anyone’e guess. Heels click and echo and a hushed voice swirls through the air. Flash of half a face and then quiet again as whoever it is enjoying the room turns a corner. Etta is not half so hurried as some of the others who barrel past, cheeks flushed be it red or the tint of silver that grows on the apples of their face.      It seems a silly game to play. Racing through maze of self and bragging of how little time it took you to get through. Instead she takes measured steps, glove-encased fingers brushing glass as she turns one corner and then the next. Her own masked face looks back at her and she keeps gaze straight ahead. Better not to stare, to contemplate. Some Silvers had been speaking in the hall about the dark room, how a mere finger dragged across an arm had cause hair to stand on end. This room seems to be doing that job well enough for Etta. Seeing herself doubled once, twice, thrice, all surrounding her. Closing in. It’s like family dinners, when harvest had been good that season. Too many people crowded around a table, all elbows and teeth and laughter.      These rooms were meant to be fun. Each only makes the pit of her stomach sink further. Perhaps she ought to have feigned ill in order to get out of it. Laid in bed and insisted she felt unwell, like a child would lie to parents to avoid work. Etta was so wound in her thoughts that the sound of footsteps does not break through her ears until whoever it is causing them has drawn too close. Shoulders raise, body turns in a swift moment.      “Don’t sneak up on people.” Clipped voice rings off of the mirrors and echoes eerily. Etta’s shoulders tense slightly as she glares at the figure from behind the green silk of her mask.

       Emory hadn’t meant to find himself in the Room of Mirrors again. It was decidedly his least favorite setting of the night. He’d never realized how haunting his own stare could be--not until tonight, with dozens of versions of himself watching his every move. He would have avoided the mirrors for the rest of the night, but his need to track the king seemed more urgent at the moment. After the two had parted from the secluded room, Emory had lost sight of Orion. It’d been a couple of hours since he’d last seen him, and that was an unsettling thought. Who knew what trouble his friend was getting himself into?

       The maze of mirrors was disorienting and almost impossible to search in. Instead of finding the king, Emory found hundreds of reflections of faceless, nameless people. He had no way of knowing who anyone was behind their mask--and that didn’t settle his nerves. If people could be so well hidden here, then how did the King know who to trust? 

       After concluding that Orion was not in the vicinity, Emory did his best to make a beeline for the exit. However, the beeline was less of a beeline and more of a slow weaving as Em worked his way around a tightly knit group of people. For a moment, his eyes locked onto someone who looked familiar--though, he supposed, he had no way of knowing how familiar they really were. The back of her head, her stature--Emory thought perhaps it was Melody, someone who had always been a symbol of comfort to him. 

       Forgetting about the quick exit he’d been attempting to make, Emory wandered toward the girl. He was startled the moment she turned his way, eyes frazzled and certainly not reminiscent of Melody’s. A silver blush crawled its way up his neck and settled in his cheeks. He was glad to have his mask to hide behind. “I apologize,” Emory’s heart pounded. Her tone had been so stern, and the Osanos heir had always been too soft to react well to such roughness. “I was--looking for someone. I assume it is not you I was searching for.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

House Osanos        ↳ Nymph

[emoryosanos-blog]

ofsilentbeauty:

        Words meant to comfort Leira only left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. She bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her mouth shut and bitter words from escaping her lips. “ Mama would scold me now. She would not comfort me, rather she would expect me to do better next time. Most certainly, I doubt she would be by my side after such a loss. ” Growing up, she knew the tremendous love of her mother but also the chilly disapproval she voiced when Leira messed up. “ I do not understand why you even stand my side. ” Taking a shaky breath, she tried to keep more tears from gracing porcelain skin. “ Should you not be glad to be down a competitor ? ”

Emory did not pretend to know the unique pressure put on Leira as the only girl in the family. He knew the grief she felt was different from his, because she had never truly been freed of their mother’s judgement. “I am not mama,” Emory spoke as he helped her sit up, working toward getting her to stand and walk out of the arena. He knew the process would be long, so he didn’t rush it. “And you are much more than my competitor. The past month does not--cannot-- overwrite years of history, Leira, and Crownstrial does not--cannot--change the fact that we are family. And I am here for you. Even if mother wouldn’t be by your side right now, I am. Because I want to be, and because you need me.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

nyssc:

            Her fragile heart seemed to shatter at his assumption, the complete lack of emotion in his voice as he accused her of trying to manipulate him. that the beautiful trinket was anything more than a gift. Tears pricked easily at her eyes and she found it impossible to fight them now. Nyssa was in a delicate state since she’d won her battle, knowing there was at least one more to come, she had felt barely held together for some time now. Emory’s words were not an assault, not truly but she felt the blow nonetheless. 

        Was it too much to ask to be cared for? To be treated as if she was a person with feelings that could be damaged? It seemed that ,from the Osanos family, it was too high a price to pay to be kind.  With the beginnings of tears welling in her eyes she turned away to wipe them, she felt ashamed

          “Of course not, Lord Osanos, it’s just—just a gift.” She wanted to run from him, from herself but she couldn’t make her legs move and stood there with her back turned, sniffling like a child. She had never shown this sort of emotion in public before but she didn’t know how to stop as that heavy feeling took control of her chest and her hands began to shake. What was happening to her?

Nyssa’s break caused him immediate confusion. He hadn’t meant to wrong her, of course--he would never purposely make someone feel that badly. Rather, he just did not know how to react to the act of kindness. People rarely did things so kind without any motive, at least not to him. In the Osanos household, gifts were unheard of. Emory was never sure how to accept surprises like this, never sure how to thank people for thinking of him. Perhaps it was because of this that he had spent twenty-eight years feeling much more comfortable going unnoticed. There was comfort in being unseen.

“I was--just trying to be polite,” Emory’s heart was caught in his throat. He had misspoken, he knew, and he was afraid to make matters worse by speaking more or making any physical contact with Nyssa. He kept a safe distance from her, his eyes on his hands. He wasn’t about to try to understand what she was feeling. Instead, he hid behind more manners: “I really am thankful. I apologize.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

ladycalistaeagrie:

Despite herself, Calista laid a  hand momentarily on his arm, giving nothing more than a soft smile before she retracted her fingers. “It’s unnerving,” Calista responds candidly,  glancing around the room, the prisms of herself casting gentle glances back. Clearing her throat, as though she were resetting herself, she knew that Emory was right with his words, they were supposed to be having fun and yet they lingered on their hardships. It was a habit not easy to break. “Don’t apologise, there is no need.” Her tone is light and airy, as she twisted inside the room and watched the way her gown caught the light. A beautiful figurine, a doll to be strategically placed within the court life, always perfect and never vulnerable - a beautiful lie. “Our silver blood may make us look as though we are cold and unfeeling, but we are not made of stone and this life is not easy.”

Calista’s touch was more comforting than he’d expected. It was rare that he didn’t mind a random contact with people he did not know well, but Calista was a surprising exception. Maybe it was because she was so soft, because Emory was recently discovering how similar she was to him, but her gentle graze really did settle him. “I suppose I should follow that with a comforting sentiment, like it is the hardships in life that make us better people, or...Or something about us not knowing happiness without sadness--but I don’t know. I would rather not lie to myself or to you,” Emory stared into his own eyes again, immediately unsettled and tired of it. “Perhaps we could find our way out of the Room of Mirrors.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

stxneskin:

“Grateful? Nah.” Valeria said, shrugging and tossing the hair out of her face. She couldn’t stand the tickling sensation on her face any longer. “But I would recommend trying to feel a victorious.” She laughed, mirthlessly, and allowed Emory to change the subject. She may not like him, but this was hardly the place to have a blow out over something as insignificant as it was. And on numerous occasions he’d let her change the subject too. Beyond that, she really didn’t want to talk about Crownstrial either, if she was being honest.

“You and I are more…a like than I would like to admit.” Valeria said, bending over to take off her shoes. “It is…relieving to know you have been keeping an eye on him too. It’s pretty much second nature isn’t it?” Valeria said, her tone light but there was, surprisingly, no malice in it. She was too drawn out for that. She’d take her allies where she could find them at parties like this. “As for the trouble bit…even with us at his side Orion has an uncanny knack for finding trouble. Be honest with yourself.”

Victorious. Emory hated the word, but he wasn’t about to tell Valeria that. Not only did he hate being truly unfiltered around her, but he was desperate to move on to another subject. It had been all about Crownstrial all night--every conversation was about his battle or someone else’s. Orion was much easier for him to speak about, especially with Val. The King was the one thing they’d always have in common. Their love for him was the only subject Em knew they would agree on.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips when Valeria’s mood remained light, the least indifferent he’d ever seen her. It really must have been a special, rare occasion: they’d never held a pleasant conversation for this long. He half-chuckled at the idea of them being alike. He wasn’t about to deny it, but that didn’t make the concept any less ridiculous. He’d always admired Valeria, but at the same time he wanted to be nothing like her. 

“It is definitely second nature. It’s been so many years that I do not recall what it’s like to not think of him before anything else,” Emory frowned, unsure if this was a good or a bad thing. It sounded much worse than it felt when he said it aloud like that, but he had a strange feeling Val would understand. “He does have impeccably awful judgement--when it comes to his personal life, that is. Of course he makes an amazing king, but I don’t suppose he’ll ever stop stumbling into uncomfortable situations. I--um...I am glad he has you around, and not just me. I know I have never admitted that, but I know you are good for him.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

leinolle:

Emory’s room was one of the last for Lei to explore, and she couldn’t help but hope that she’d find the younger Osanos there. A room dedicated to water and celebrating her brother seemed the most likely place to find Leira, whom Lei had managed to lose in all of the commotion of the ball. Her eyes scanned the room at least three times, and she could feel herself deflate when she saw Emory’s blond hair and not his sister’s flash of bright red. 

Still, one Osanos was probably better than none, so Lei made her way to sit down beside him. “What do you mean, you wish you deserved it?” she asked, slipping her shoes off and setting them next to her. Lei dipped her feet into the pool, being careful to keep the hem of her gown from getting wet as she let the water swirl around her ankles. “I think everybody who watched you and Sofiya can attest to the fact that you deserve the room. Unless you managed to cheat without anybody catching you, that is.”

Even a quick glance toward Lei reminded Em of his sister. They were so different, but he still managed to associate Lei with her every single time. He wondered if the Nolle girl knew of his recent struggles with his sister. He wondered if Leira had told her that their relationship was following apart, and how badly her side of the story had painted him. Anxiety caused him to become immediately paranoid, believing that Lei knew everything and had a slew of awful opinions on his betrayal of joining Crownstrial. 

If she did dislike him, she didn’t show it. Her words were an obvious attempt at being supportive, but they only left Emory feeling more numb. Everyone who watched you and Sofiya. Everyone had seen him destroy her. “No--nothing like that. No cheating,” Emory glanced at her before looking back to the pool. “I suppose I just feel guilty. For hurting her, or for ruining her plans...I don’t know. I apologize for being so upfront.”

[emoryosanos-blog]

kassiopeanolle:

Kass had been watching Emory, seeing his eyes flit around as he passed, his hurried movements making it clear that this was not a place he wanted to be. But as the confusion of the maze of mirrors entertained her, she could understand how it could be a source of discomfort for so many others. Perhaps he could see through her mask, see past her smile despite their lack of familiarity, but he certainly wasn’t fooling her. Especially not after his panicked dash. But he seemed intent on maintaining the facade that she’d constructed, so she would do him the favor of reciprocating.

“So you’ve done something similar?” She asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise as she tugged the curls of her hair over her shoulder. At his comment, she glanced into the mirror, turning her toned body in its stunning, Rahul-designed gown a few times and admiring it from every angle. “I do not think there is a single angle that does not flatter me… clothed or no. Of course, you wouldn’t know this. We haven’t tumbled.” A wink to throw him just that much more off balance. “Though I doubt that your unclothed body has very many unflattering angles either.”

Emory’s cheeks burned a dark silver tone, deeper and deeper the more Kass spoke. He remembered his previous interaction with the king, both of them sequestered away in a secret room. He hoped she couldn’t read the memories on his face--but Em was always terrified that others could see straight through him. He couldn’t imagine much worse than the secret of him and Orion getting out to the public, and that made him paranoid--especially when he was surrounded by his own reflections, so exposed.

“Are you toying with me, Kassiopeia?” Emory raised an eyebrow in question of her suggestiveness. Luckily, her playful banter distracted from the secret he was trying to hide. He felt more confident that he no longer looked as though he’d spent a portion of the night unclothed with the King. “Are you trying to see how hard you can make me blush? I’m afraid it--it might be working.”