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[iragnidei]

Faolan tipped his head backwards, looking up to the ceiling, filled with relief. "I wonder," he muttered, mimicking the speech pattern of the regent, "how people never get tired of this." Since he'd been forcibly removed from the court as a young child, he'd never grown back the resistance needed to handle a crowd of nobles. It used to make his skin crawl, panic up his throat like a vice. Now, it merely left him exhausted like nothing else. He learned to brush that under the rug, for the sake of his people.

Faolan chuckled at the question posed, the frivolity of rumors that always seemed to pop up being a great source of entertainment. "Oh, it'd surely depend on your drunk mumbling, your majesty," his tone lacked propriety, but Faolan decided to enjoy his wine further instead of watching his own manners. "Either way, I am sure the gossipmongers would have a field day with it," he looked at the older man, offering a smile that could only be described as mischievous. "Cheers, then?"

"About time," he feels inclined to agree. Most of the guest, his spouse and children, had already called it a night, white Eirik had decided to stay behind. Certainly not because he wished to continue engaging in conversation with near strangers, but the opposite. As the room began to empty, a comforting silence began taking over it as well. "I wonder, if I was seen stumbling through the hallways at night, whether people would think I had a good evening, or the opposite," the regent muses, as he reaches for one of the bottles left by the service and pours himself a glass. "Fortunately, I can still handle my alcohol, because I could indeed use a drink."

[iragnidei]

Faolan only had a tolerance for such events because of the music and the dance. It was all still a political play, a heavy-handed show of appearances, but it disguised itself better. It simultaneously allowed for Faolan to avoid small talk. Therefore, it was the smallest of all evils. The voice of Isra caught the king off-guard. It always gave him some sort of déjà-vu, as if he was in the immediate vicinity of risk. He breathed out, once, twice. "I have the program with me, if you wish to read it," it was the quickest reply he could muster, even managing to smile at the lady. He was being polite, as he was trained to do, and very light on his feet. "I have to agree with you, however. It has been an extraordinary show until now."

isra  knows  that  attending  these  society  events  only  aid  her  mission  .  listen  ,  observe  ,  absorb  —  words  drilled  into  her  psyche  from  the  earliest  days  of  her  training  .  decades  ago  ,  now  .  but  what  she  wouldn't  give  to  enjoy  ,  for  every  move  she  makes  to  not  have  additional  motives  ,  to  not  hide  under  layers  of  deceit  .  to  simply  be  .  if  only  she  could  enjoy  the  music  and  dance  ,  but  until  she  finds  a  viable  exit  from  this  life  ,  she  must  endure  perpetual  internal  conflict  . as  applause  for  the  previous  set  fades  out  ,  isra  glances  at  the  person  next  to  her  from  her  periphery  first  ,  before  turning  her  head  toward  them  .  "  how  wonderful  .  i  wonder  what  sort  of  act  will  follow  … ?  "  she  muses  ,  loud  enough  for  them  to  hear  .

[iragnidei]

Once Faolan realized it was Felix by his side, a bright smile lodged itself in his mouth. The High King of Scotland didn't have many friends, but it was easy to tell when he was particularly fond of someone: his emotions weren't well trained in that regard. His arm quickly hugged the Spanish prince closer, patting them over the shoulder. "Dear Felix!" he greeted, bringing the younger royal closer. "I am so pleased to see you!" those were rare words for Faolan, so they rang true. He laughed in a hushed tone, eyeing Felix as to determine how much alcohol they'd ingested. "Well, I enjoy when you're loudly professing your thoughts," Faolan replied, although he wouldn't wish to see Felix in any sort of trouble. "But, alas, you don't need to drink any more, if you do not wish to. Have you enjoyed your night?"

after all the dancing and talking, felix feels exhausted, quieter in a way he rarely is. he knows he just needs to take some respite, and it will all get better, and once he spots a friendly face, he plops down on the seat next to the man. "hello, hello —" he bows his head, similarly, though there is a wide smile on his face. at the question, his eyes widen a little, and he purses his lips. "i don't think i'm supposed to drink more." having already had at least three cups of wine, he knows he is nearing his limit. "i'm... loud when i get drunk." louder, that is. he thinks he would be locked inside his rooms for a week if his siblings were to find out.

[iragnidei]

open starter ╱ national norway day celebration. status: accepting replies

The thrill of the numerous dances had already passed, and most candles had been blown out. Plenty of people had already left, and Faolan finally could enjoy himself: the silent night was inviting in a way the company of others could rarely be. He sat down in a corner, observing the stars, coat already off. He drank a bit of wine and looked over to a bystander, bowing his head slightly. "I think now it's time to wind down, no? Do you drink?"

[iragnidei]

starter ╱ @scxtchthistle. location: the butterfly migration

Faolan had found a place not as tormented by the presence of other humans and decided to settle there. He was alone, as was often the case, worn-out sketchbook in hand as he observed nature following its course. Once his sister approached, he invited her to sit down by his side, a gentle smile offered to her. "These butterflies remind me of you," he said, looking over the horizon. "Very free. Tell me, dear sister, how have you been? We barely had any time to talk, and that bothers me deeply."

[iragnidei]

Faolan had a higher tolerance to royal events that provided enough art to appease his brain. It was easier to ignore the constant white noise, the empty conversations and silent threats. It also made it much easier to forget he shouldn't be present at all. It took him a few moments to follow the cue to clap, mind still entranced by the music. Faolan looked younger, then: starry-eyed and mystified.

Once he registered the words being directed at him, he pursed his lips. He understood the feeling; could relate to it. However, his heart always followed an erratic beat, not at all kind. "The enemy is always as human as we are," he replied, after quiet consideration. "Which is why killing one of our own is a sin, but hunting animals is not," as he stared in the distance, the expectation for the next act grew. "I suppose all that matters most is universal. Art, devotion, life."

who: @iragnidei; @ofseraphs not a group thread where: Spring's end evening concert 

As a musical performace ended Hisashi bought his hands together in applause. "It does amaze me, this music may be different from what I grew up with, but the basics, the emotions it brings out... there are some things which are universal."

Shaking his head with a smile, Hisashi continued on. "For thousands of years our cultures developed, isolated from each other. But across all of them we developed dance, and music, and art. Invented instruments, and songs... a type of universal language. Makes it hard to see each other as enemies at times like this."

[iragnidei]

Faolan never expected to be spoken to, even after the years he was forced to spend in the shadows had gone by. He proceeded to offer an awkward half-smile to the queen, partially out of politeness and entirely out of appreciation for her pure contentment. It was hard to discover people who still were capable of joy, and Faolan could give credit to where it was due. "Very beautiful, indeed," he replied vaguely, observing the thousands of butterflies that made their path through their presence. "No apologies needed, I assure you. It is a blessing to be so full of love," Faolan couldn't be sure of why he'd say such thing, but he was not one who took back his own words. "I understand the sentiment. But, perhaps, the scarcity of such event is what makes it so dear to you."

𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹 — sahari & ( accepting 0/3 )

location : the simien mountains

time : during the butterfly migration

" aren't they just absolutely beautiful ? " the egyptian queen hummed , doing a child - like spin in her dress . this was a time that sahari always looked forward to . there was beauty , innocence in the flutter of a butterfly that she always found extraordinarily . . . inspiring . falling to her knees , she giggled as she continued to look up at the colorful creatures fly by ; hands moving to her cheeks as she let out a dreamy sigh . " apologies for my outburst . i just LOVE seeing this . if only it could be every year , not just every worse-some five . "

[iragnidei]

Faolan had perhaps danced once, if at all. He couldn't quite remember the face of his partner, nor did he wish to. At least, the crowd he had to face was smaller than usual, and the excitement that commanded every ball often allowed for escapades. Everyone was always too busy with their own prospects, and the royal was grateful for it. He shrugged off his coat, loosening his silk bow-tie, only mildly surprised when the voice of a young woman reached his ears.

He coughed slightly, remembering all the times he was warned off of destroying the wishful thinking of others. "Everything is possible, is it not?" was the safest answer he could come up with, stiff as a doe. Such a gentleman, really, he scoffed internally. "I haven't thought about it yet. Have you?" he replied in earnest, somehow embarrassed. "Something vague enough, I suppose... World peace? Or maybe that's too big of a wish for only one candle..."

જ location : dawit's hall ( national norway day celebration ) જ status : open

coralie  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  festivities,  hands  awkwardly  clutching  at  the  folds  of  her  skirt  as  she  observed  merry  faces  she  should’ve  perhaps  known  but  now  remained  foreign  and  illuminated  by  the  warmth  of  flickering  candlelight.  it  was  soon  to  be  midnight  and  her  heart  quickened  at  the  thought  of  making  a  wish.  desires  nor  a  past  she  could  remember  could  shape  her  hopes  for  a  future.  was  there  even  something  she  could  wish  for  ?   coralie  closed  her  eyes,  seeking  clarity  in  the  dark  void  greeting  her.  thinking  of  what  her  old  self  might’ve  wished  for.   yet,  she  knew  better  than  to  tie  her  heart  to  a  delicate  thing  such  as  hope.   falling  into  ashes  in  between  her  praying  hands.  “  i  wonder  if  a  wish  might  truly  come  true.  ”  she  opened  her  eyes,  a  gentle  smile  pressed  to  her  lips.  “  what  are  you  wishing  for  ?  ”

[iragnidei]

Faolan would usually not be caught dead in places so full. He had a deep, well-known aversion for crowds, and much preferred to be far away from where the people were. He was forced to attend to his royal duties by his own acute sense of responsibility, but the butterfly migration couldn't be considered an obligation by any means. Instead, it was one of his personal enjoyments; an enchantment so strong with nature that made him ignore all honey-eyed couples. He had his notebook in hand, sketching a few of the specimen he caught glimpses of. A rare smile appeared once he could draw a majestic butterfly, who seemed too enthralled by the hands in which it had landed to fly away. "Very," he muttered, sounding astonished. "Would you happen to know any more about it?" he finally looked up to the young woman, bowing his head to her as a general sign of politeness.

open starter ›› ft. parvati sharma. when: during the butterfly migration status: accepting replies

wherever she  looked  butterflies  of  various  colors surrounded her. it felt like a scene from a dream; one parvati wished she could remain within forever. eyes pointedly ignored the groups of people walking together, but for a few fleeting moments, the first in quite some time, she didn't as alone. she had the butterflies. with her hand extended, surprise washed over her when one of the butterflies landed in her palm. its wings opened and closed but it didn't flutter away. not even when footsteps approached.   ❝ beautiful, no? ❞   her gaze remained on the butterfly, unaware who she was speaking to.   ❝ according to what i've read, this one is quite rare. ❞

[iragnidei]

Even though Faolan was the eldest of his house, he wasn't the one primed for attendances of big events. He had been, until his siblings were born — and, then, he was swiftly delegated to affairs of discreet nature. Therefore, with time, he became averse to participating in them. China's banquet was much the same in his head: he was forced to attend but, as soon as he found an opportunity to quit the filled rooms, he did so.

The presence of so many people was enough to stifle his appetite, and a breath of fresh air was needed to repair his well-being. He roamed the gardens with little concern for the possible diplomacy being missed. The topic of the kingdom was one he preferred to ignore when he could.

As he encountered another figure, his initial plan was to turn around and leave. Faolan was not sympathetic, after all. However, once he caught a glimpse of a fire, he was quick to run over to the exiled princess. As as instinct, he took of his coat, throwing it over the flames as to extinguish them. "Are you well?" he questioned, clearly worried. "I'm sorry for the dress. Is it salvageable?"

° • — OPEN starter ( 2/4 ) ° • — in the gardens, during china's banquet.

she had been sitting in front of the same flower, staring at it for what seemed like ages. it was a flower she had seen earlier in the week, and knew she wanted to come back and sketch it. now seemed like a good time, to distract herself from the celebrations she couldn't attend — not that she would though she did feel sorry for the sultana and wondered what lies she had been fed, too.

so there the little exiled princess sat, paints opened beside her, a candle burning on the other side and journal splayed out flat before her. yet, nothing was on the pages. her stare was aimless, her thoughts clearly not on what was before her. suddenly, she groaned, throwing her head back then forward.

"it's no use," she complained to herself, turning closing up her paints beside her before they spilled. she begun to pack them away into her small trunk that held them and unbeknownst to the princess, when she turned to do so — the silk of her dress had begun to catch fire from the candle.

[iragnidei]

we are so glad to see you safe, HIGH KING FAOLAN of SCOTLAND! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are ANALYTICAL and DEVOTED enough to handle it. just don’t let your VICIOUSNESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE THE BASTARD SON OF THE LATE KING, AND NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN LINE OF SUCCESSION.

FULL NAME: Faolán Alistair Stuart.

NICKNAMES & ALIASES: Corvo is the alias he adopts while going undercover. Ali is reserved for close relations, but not very commonly used.

TITLES & OCCUPATION: High King of Scotland, Army Colonel.

BIRTHDAY: 20th of January.

ORIENTATION: homosexual.

STATUS: unwed.

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: arabic, english, french, german, japanese, latin, mandarin, norwegian, scottish.

TRAITS: resourceful, observant, secretive, passionate, relentless, stubborn, distrusting.

MORAL COMPASS: chaotic neutral.

INTERESTS: sword fighting, psychology, war strategies, reading, horseback riding, botany.

TROPES: aloof big brother, berserk button, child soldier, deadpan snarker, death seeker, genius bruiser, hitman with a heart, knight in sour armor, shell-shocked veteran, sugar and ice personality.

WHAT THE PEOPLE KNOW

Faolán was the first child of the Scottish royal family, after many attempts to conceive a child. He was lauded by the people as a sign of good fortune, and received only the best a noble upbringing could give.

His introverted but reasonable nature gave him good standing with the kingdom, and Faolán was always appreciated for his cultured ideas and politeness. He was a good representative and, above all, a member of the royal family the people could trust.

When The Reckoning occurred, he seemed to be one of the only people to remain level-headed, which elevated his status in the eyes of the monarchies worldwide. He was one of the first to enforce the idea of a settlement between the four siblings.

THE TRUTH

Faolán is a bastard child of the late King. He was hastily adopted, to the dismay of the Queen, since the uproar for an heir was starting to grow unbearable.

Even though his siblings were only born many years after, Faolán’s position was always one he had to fight for. His father insisted on early military training, which resulted in many scars and wounds. He was raised mostly as a child soldier, fit to be a spy and to execute the dirty deeds the remainder of the royal family could not.

The rules were always different for Faolán, and most were led to believe it was all because he needed to be an example. The truth, however, was always much darker. The man deeply resents the late King and Queen, although no one is aware of just how much. At this point, Faolán doesn’t care much about the standing of the Kingdom: the trained part of his brain wishes to see it thrive, while the agony in his chest desires to burn it down to a crisp.

THE THREADS THAT BIND

Army buddies, please! Faolan was a pain in the ass and very much obsessed with honing his skills, but he was a good partner to rely on. In the same vein, sparring partners!

I think it'd be quite funny if a woman tried to get with him before realizing he was a raging home of sexual with too many repressed emotions, and a friendship bloomed from there.

Childhood best friends, just 'cause I'm a sucker for the trope.

Allies from Scotland that always sensed something was odd, especially considering Faolan's weird treatment by the royal family.

Intimate friend or confidante. Faolan is not very close to people in general, but no man is an island.

A betrothal that had been arranged by the late King but Faolan broke off simply because he couldn't be bothered to marry.

Past targets or something similar. Faolan could've gotten closer simply because his father wished for intel, and the friendship could've been then abandoned or flourished.