lordleonster

[lordleonster]

Quan, for the life of him, cannot remain in character for long—as his actors out him as the queen, even if he is under the mask. He cracks a quiet, out of character chuckle, knowing fully well that the jig was up. How would Queen Q act in this scenario, as her tightly held identity is unfurled from her chest? Her heart, surely, is in a panic. Was in a panic. But the only real stranger to her would have been the lady bard, right? If that was the case, perhaps she could swear the Lady into secrecy.

First, however, she turned to Garance and cleared her throat rather dramatically.

"Garance, you-- That's rather handy..." She looked a little skeptical. "Dahlia, was it? Take the vulnerary and we'll get you away from here..."

Quan narrates outloud: "Perhaps the queen knew Garance. That's a strange glance she's giving her. It was more than likely that she has hired our residential pharmacist for her more dubious talents before."

She glances about, trying to whisper. "So it wasn't you who--" Before Queen Q could get a wordlength in, Garance, too, began to tilt a little too far back. Quan's own heart hiccups, body moving on its own to make sure the earnest woman before him wasn't hurt by her own dramatics. With arms strewn open, Queen Q would have caught her.... if she wasn't so weak.

They both fumbled on the ground without warning, Quan cushioning her fall as skillfully as he could manage.

"...Ah!"

"Um... I--" She coughs. "R-right. Miss Bard, can you handle the archiver? I'll be trying to support Garance over here. We've got to get away from the flames..."

And in a hushed whisper: "Garance! Garance you better not be acting..."

Quan narrates: "They begin their rush away from the archives, the smoke bringing tears into their eyes. That is, when a league of policemen with buckets of water begin to ride in."

"Goodness! Everyone, over here! The alley is that away!"

the burning of alexandria {

(HAPPYLAND; week one)

[lordleonster]

He blinks— his old comrade's nickname is a sort of relief he did not expect to rest in. Many of his friends, really, were likely stuck in the beyond or some such place where he and Ethlyn were resting, biding their time. (For now, the actor in front of him is a colleague to Queen Q, not a home. Not a place to rest in.) He quirks a half-mooned smile, before dusting his imaginary dress off.

Awkwardly, Queen Q--that is, Opera Singer Quinn cleared her throat. "Oh Beo, I wasn't sure you were going to make it for tonight's performance! I--"

"I have a number of previous appointments to attend. Had I known, I would have side-lined them for you." She rested a thoughtful hand on her cheek, fretfully thumbing her jawline. Looking over her shoulder, she tightened her imaginary mask to make sure no one could make out what was under it. "You must be busy. Far busier than I." She looked like she was in a hurry to leave the premise, but she couldn't be rude to her friend who had made it down to see her show.

"Songbird Quinn holds a candle, Beo the Actor holds the torch." She teased. "Am I right?"

notoriety be thy maker { quan&diarmuid

( HAPPYLAND; week one )

[lordleonster]

"Ha! Certainly no need to be humble... You've got the chops, my good man." When was the last time he had met a man fluster like so... Finn, perhaps—especially in a particularly good day on the field. Laslow had a knack for performance, one that felt like gold had Quan still organized such large sponsorships for the arts, so there was hardly any reason to downplay his acumen.

"You may be right. I don't know anyone in my family who can sing, really."

Does he really know any of them outside of face value? "But dancing? Even someone as stiff-footed as I could manage."

"Does shyness run in the family? I wonder if you and your mother both were simply too humble... If she was around, perhaps she would have made a wonderful Queen Q." He snorts, disparaging his own stage presence in lieu of this mysterious woman's skill. "If she is around, a duet is in order. I'd be in the first row, cheering you on with my lungs asunder."

"Ha! Me?" He teases back, ribbing Laslow lightly with an elbow. "Is that an invitation? I'll have to learn how to hit even one note before I can reach your leagues, oh Grand Miss Bard."

"Back in my day, I used to sneak out and pretend to be a farmhand for a day. Or one of my knights, armored helmets and all. But I can't envision myself traveling the world with reckless abandon—at least not without my family."

@laslow

offstage promenade { quan&laslow

( HAPPYLAND; week one )

[lordleonster]

Quan thumbs his chin, an all too serious look resting on his brow as gazed up at the imaginary archives burning in front of them. In his mind's eye, it smoldered, covering the air with a suffocating layer of dust and ash. And yet, Queen Q gazed onward, a distant sadness sprinkled in her eyes. She would have said something to the effect of... "I... suspect I know who has done this..."

And in a regular voice, Quan narrates. "Queen Q has arrived at the scene, mask--" He runs a hand over his eyes. "--Covering half her face. She has just clocked out of her last showing for the night, and stumbles on a scene she knows too much about."

Queen Q squinted, trying to make out a shape in the smoke, hand muzzled over her mouth and nose to keep it out of her system. She swore she saw a figure, strewn on his side, and she gasped a little too loudly for the audience. "Excuse me? Excuse me! Someone help! There's a young man that's hurt!"

Quan steps off his log, rushing over to Ewan's side, frantically looking to-and-fro for any other signs of life. "Can you hear me...? I doubt I can... carry you but--"

Q's eyes spotted two figures in the distance, one filing through her cards trying to get in character, and the other-- They looked springy enough, didn't they? "You! Excuse me! Can you please help me carry him to safety? Something has gone afoul at the Royal Archives!"

She shouldn't have been here tonight... It might just blow her cover.

the burning of alexandria {

(HAPPYLAND; week one)

[lordleonster]

"Thank you for participating earlier, Laslow... To think, we had such a skilled entertainer in our midst." The tip of his lips curls into a subtle half-smile, glad to have a moment with the fellow Team Snake member before following weeks shakes up their roster. "In truth, I have never exactly been one for entertaining myself. Hosting, surely, but never the likes of manifesting on stage."

"Not to say I can't get the obligatory dance in, but I do not have the voice to act as a masquerading opera singer." He huffs out a laugh from his nose, raking a hand through his hair as he evaluated his skill objectively. He had a voice for speaking, but the fates had abandoned all hope in his singing career.

"I used to sponsor artist fairs and theatre troupes, hosting festivities in the castle walls every year. This is my first time on the other end, playing the part instead of watching from the front row."

@laslow

offstage promenade { quan&laslow

( HAPPYLAND; week one )

[lordleonster]

"Ewan, my boy! I suppose you are with me again, hm?" Quan took one of his hands in both his own to shake and be merry. "Your card..."

The ( LIBRARIAN ) is written neatly on Ewan's card.

"Ah yes, miss, it's lovely to have you." He shakes her hand as well, eyes glowing in welcome over a new face in their midsts. "Here, this would be your card."

The ( POTIONMAKER ) takes the stage.

"And we have one more person joining us..." Quan swiftly pat his shoulder and laughed as he handed the man a card. "Hope you're the entertaining type."

The ( BARD ) is on the run!

"My name is Quan, and today, I shall be your Queen Q." He laughs quietly, knowing he was the furthest away from a lonely queen with a double life. Even so... "As you see from the listing, our roles are already described. So shall we simply get to it?"

"Perhaps..." He steps onto a fallen log, lifting a hand to shield himself from the sun. "We can begin where Ewan's card begins. In front of the burning of Alexandria."

@optimismxmagicism / @amitieos / @laslow

the burning of alexandria {

(HAPPYLAND; week one)

[lordleonster]

"Ah..." Quan folds his rolecard quickly, unsure if the role is something that he can fall into easily. He is assigned to be the queen, unloved and unnoticed—with a second life under the limelight. "Diarmuid... Now where have I heard that name before..." He could have sworn one of his family members had mentioned that name before... Was it Altena? Leif?

"My name is Quan, by the by. Today I shall be Queen Q. I know I wrote the roles, but I certainly received a challenging one for myself."

He shines a faint smile, as to not appear too unhappy with his role. "And you're... the actor correct? Perhaps we've met under different circumstances. You in all your fame, and I, a masked opera singer in the evening."

@charmblooded

notoriety be thy maker { quan&diarmuid

( HAPPYLAND; week one )

[lordleonster]

"Leif..." He spoke under his breath, a sound only the prince could hear. That name popped on his mind the moment Alfred saw the man before him—They looked quite alike didn't they? Maybe it was his imagination and his mind missing an old friend lost at war and a new one made during the ball, but this man gave him a sense of familiarity he couldn't shake.

But he pushed those thoughts aside at the realization he had been staring, a smile followed to correct that mistake.

"Ah—I'm so sorry for staring, your face reminded me a bit of a friend. I'm Alfred from the Kingdom of Firene, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Limb extended in invitation for a handshake, formality that maybe was unnecessary but felt right at the moment. "Since we are going to be teammates, please, feel free to rely on me for anything you need. I'm always happy to help."

He clasped the hand before him, firmly entwining their newfound connection with welcoming strength. "It's fine, my good man. Alfred, is it? Should I go off on a limb and ask if you've met my daughter Altena or my son Leif, out and about? They do share quite the resemblance." Incidentally, he found himself holding out his chest proudly at the mere mention of them. Patting the young man on the arm, he grinned curtly in a round of comradery.

"It is my first time hearing of Firene Kingdom, but I shall cherish the fact that you represent it with such kindness." Civility was a treasured aspect of diplomacy. "I will call you, if you would do the same for me." Thumping his fist over his chest, he leaves it to rest on his heart as one would by creed.

"I hail from Leonster myself, so perhaps we can stay in touch. If you enjoy a bit of sportsmanship, I'd invite you to an outing or three to get our blood pumping." A glint of good old fashioned competitiveness brushed over his gaze. "My old friends and I used to compete in just about everything to test our mettle."

"For now, however, I shall count on you!"

[lordleonster]

"Ha! You're right on that, dear." What was a fence to a lover, in any case? Even so, he was glad that this barren place would not bar them from seeing each other. Life was never tinted the same way after meeting her, and he would sorely miss her in all forms while they were separated... "Would I have been given the choice, we would have not been parted at all." He thumbs her cheek boyishly, to tease her as he did in their years of courting.

Quan was glad she was on the same page though, running with his idea immediately. "Ha! Doesn't it sound amusing?" His lips quirked ever slightly, bumping his hip over hers to goad her a bit. "I knew you'd like the idea."

"My obligations as your husband do entitle you to getting the upper hand more often than not..." He lingers on the idea, lightheartedly, as though his heart was not already set in motion. "But..."

"Very well."

He parted from her side, offering a handshake for the sake of diplomacy.

"Best man or woman to win them all."

His stern brows lift, giving way to a look he'd give to the best of his friends. "I certainly won't back down."

"What should we wager?"

@ladyleonster

see you on the other side! { ethlyn & quan

[lordleonster]

He has to think quickly—efficiently enough to satisfy everyone with the least amount of consequence. Quan certainly didn't want blood on their hands, and while disciplining others came easily to him, running his mouth in a room full of strangers would ruin overall morale. So he immediately filed through various memories, shuffling the most harmless ideas to the forefront. No, no, that one required that the others to leave the room first. No. That would require them leaving their shoes outside. No. They couldn't involve steeds too early on, lest he be revoked of his instructor's license. Hmmm. What would Ethlyn suggest?

Flicking his gaze between his three companions, he plopped a fist into his open palm like a mallet. "That's it, Florina! Something close to that would do."

"I suggest that three of us lift the lightest on a blanket. A makeshift gurney so to speak. We knock in a blitz of anxiety, asking for help."

He traced a line in the air, indicating them vacating their room to the room adjacent. "The actress on the gurney fakes a faint, and..." He snaps, rolling his wrist. "They leap up, arms flailing, with a frightening wail."

He gave pause for a moment, before clearing his throat. "Well. It could be an actor as well, but I certainly envisioned a certain someone having her fun."

Dusting off his hands, he lifted a palm upwards. "Well? Does that not sound harmless? I am confident it'd give them a good shake."

He nailed the idea down with a smirk.

@indevouement | @lilailes | @machiot

it's always sunny in happyland

team snake, room d

[lordleonster]

Even on a beach island vacation, Camilla would find a way to keep her title of “juice lady.” Where she found the supplies, for both non alcoholic and alcoholic drinks, or the cart she managed to hitch to Barbie to drag everything along with her was unimportant. It was juice time. 

“Here darling! Do let me know if you’d like something stronger to mix in.”🍹

"Miss Camilla," He bows his head, respectfully raising the proffered glass up to toast to her. "--awfully kind of you."

"You really know how to lighten up the entire campsite," Quan glanced over both his shoulders, counting all the pretty, dew-dropped glasses and wondering just how many of those were her doing. His lips half-quirked, awe glowing quietly from his dark gaze. "Does it come naturally to you? You're amazing." In all his life, the most handsome rewards came to those that could rouse the hearts of many. He took note of her ability as a sign that even he had room to improve.

"Surely. But nature means nothing without hard work."

"I'll take something a little stronger," He adds casually, strolling closer to admire her wyvern-cart up close. Between his daughter and Camilla, he had a number of run ins with wyverns outside of his own death site, so he could truly admire their versatility up close. Perching his chin between the notch of his thumb and index, he hummed quietly. Scales, fangs, deep-set eyes—

A faint flash of a memory comes back to him, of an arena long past.

"Ah that's right. I haven't had the chance to talk to you since the Arena, but I thought I ought to commend you." He didn't see her. Not really. But he saw the size of her shadow looming over him, seconds before he felt her axe thunder through his armor. "You truly bested me back then, and kept your mind on the objectives ahead." He skillfully omitted the fact that Altena had done the opposite, blazing head first with rage without considering herself and her place within her own team.

A quiet "Ha..." escapes from his lips.

"If you need my hand in anything, do call. Even if it's..." He holds up the glass, playfully swirling it between his fingers. "I'd much rather have you on my side than not."

[lordleonster]

Earlier, Quan realized quite early on that the light in this room was knife-bright, and had planted an arm over his eyes to squarely to block it out. By the time a rabid shriek and subsequent threat had shaken him from his slumber, the flow of time slams into him like a horse without reins. He rockets up in bed, counting the heads in the room under one commanding sweep, before realizing that the threat had come from none other than the young girl a couple beds over. Quan huffs from his nose, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low light, collecting the other voices before clearing his throat. "We needn't resort to threats of murder, Marni." Even toned. "However-" His gaze falls on all three of his companions thoughtfully. "Losing sleep would be costly if we were at war. Just as costly as losing a companion through spite."

"So how's about a compromise?"

His hand hasn't moved toward his spear in the least. There was certainly no need to snatch his jaw on half-hearted bait. "We could simply... talk to them. As Florina said."

Quan lingers, quarter turning to Florina with a reassuring smile. If he had known any better, that was more words than she had spoken to him all day—her reticent nature had not been lost upon him. Any more from him would likely have her quaking from her sheets. So he relaxes, both arms propping him up coolly, before holding up his own pillow in Jakob's line of sight.

"You can muffle the sound with my pillow along with yours after we handle this. It'll do you one better than a thin line of tissues, would it not?"

He rested the plush thing on one side of his bed, as an offer of peace before all else. Quan knew a number of men in his own army who would have clawed their ears off for a good night of sleep, so he was hardly unfamiliar with that dour look on his companion's face.

Hopping out of bed, he stretches out all the knots in his back before kicking on his boots. "Well?" He grins at Marni. "Let's go, shall we? Maybe we could even give them a fright from the doorway."

The Royal Academy of Belhalla had a number of... situations untoward. Linking all the young men's dormitories together meant they had to find ways to knock heads and play pranks without the headmasters stripping them down to their leathers. So this more or less brought him back to a time when curses were slung from pedigreed men, and double the laughter had been wrought from a night of success.

"Are the rest of you with us??"

@machiot / @indevouement / @lilailes i think room d deserves this bonding experience actually

it's always sunny in happyland

team snake, room d

[lordleonster]

"It's a shame, really." Quan sighs, rolling his arm around her waist to rest in the shape of her. The only thing that gladdens him is the fact that they aren't prohibited from speaking at all. "But from what I hear, this event is kinder than most. To think, you'd normally be unable to speak to the other teams. Is that right? I doubt I'd be able to bear knowing you were a fence away..." He rests his cheek on the soft pink crown of her head, mulling over this so-called vacation of theirs.

"Hmm... But I suppose, we'll have to find our silver linings." An idea emerges from the depths of his mind, gasping for air. "How's about we make a little game of it all? Hm? It'd certainly make things more interesting for us both, dear."

Raising his head, Quan turns just slightly to shoot her a smirk with a new fire to his eyes. The light from the sun catches and cinders in his dark irises. "A challenge."

"Winner with the most points gets bragging rights." He huffs out a laugh from his nose. "Heh."

"You better be watching, dear! I'll give you a show."

@ladyleonster

see you on the other side! { ethlyn & quan

[lordleonster]

activity check { 8/1/2024

passed!

[lordleonster]

tiptoe around the postscript { quan & ivy

Dear Ruby Rose (@lindwyvrm), Thank you for arranging this—it would be wasteful to lose contact when we were having such a riveting conversation at the masquerade. Pray tell, why partners in pen, instead of person? Does the nature of anonymity provide you a better sense of security than my own company can provide? I jest. A person of your stature should keep a healthy dollop of mystique at your side. Besides, I found myself rather entertained at the notion of writing for pleasure... You'll be hard pressed to find a man as endeared to 'trivial' sentimentalities as I. Today, I write to you curious about what you thought of that contraption at the ball. The one with the instant photographs. Do you have something of the like in your homeland? By the time I realized it, it was too late to be sorry for myself— but I had certainly wished for us to take one for the sake of memories. I had taken one with my family, and also my son's dear friend. (More on that later. She's a curious one.) If I find the hostess of that stall again, shall we take one ourselves? In any case, to save you from a lengthy bit of nothings, I leave you with a question. Is there any one thing you would like to do? Outside of your duty for your nation, and whatever it is you are assigned to at the academy. From, Ascalaphus

Quan leaves the letter folded neatly by the fountain, under a carved paperweight shaped like an owl.

[lordleonster]

He loves the cold slick of wind bustling through his hair as he cuts through snow, steed steady and vision clear. Even as the deer kicked up snow, he leaned in, feeling the full force of his steed boom forward like a blow of thunder. He'll make heaven quick—his spear barreling through the air with enough strength to pierce through flesh. The deer makes a quieted yelp before rolling into a silent bed of snow.

Such was nature. Such was life. He immediately lead his horse over, to scoop up its weight before it soiled the pure white landscape. Looking over his shoulder, he scanned the sky for Altena, knowing she would hate if he turned back for her. Quietly, however, he compromised, reining his horse back through lengths of forest just to be able to hear her blade come down. Gae Bolg now rightfully belonged to her, after all, and she wielded it as masterfully as he did in times past.

Waiting on her, he called out into the woods. "Altena! Once you're done here, we ought to move towards the caves for the night!" He was confident that the wolves would not be able to withstand her and her wyvern much longer…

"And if you need me, call my name!"

Ok Boomer

[lordleonster]

The whiff of Raymond's javelin splintered his own lance, darkening his gaze under heavy-set brows. What little his opponent spittled in words, he made up for it in sport—and Quan could hardly foul him for making good on a competition. The stir in his own chest unsettled him—for control made a good bed to lay on until it was slipped out from under him. Much of his life had revolved around a firm grasp over his heart and his nation's wiles, reigns notched against the maw of a growing ambition. But there had only been one other time he had felt so dislodged—death uprooting him, his wife's gaze upon another undoing him entirely.

His leg, poised behind him, lunges to propel his center of gravity forward—javelin whistling over the target and unmistakably jutting in the ground. His frown only deepens.

"I was deceased. To say you have wronged me in my death would also lay guilt in my wife's hands." He is embittered, knowing fairly well that all logic would play squarely into the opposite man's hands. "Yet to say I haven't felt wronged would be the work of pansies." By defying fate, he was alive enough to be wronged. What irony.

Quan, for all his self-prescribed cool-headedness, was spurned as brash as a wildfire by those that knew him objectively. He had every desire to sling diatribes, to mirror his broken heart in a way that resembled death, but he was a lord before all else. And his soul was no longer buried in Aed, sight red as spears came down.

Begrudgingly, he rolled his shoulders, brows still crooked as he worked through anything more to say to this man. "…I suppose I have failed to accept you." Quan knew the words should have been, I know I should acknowledge you. But they bubble forth, mishapen—touched by his own biases. "I know you came on your own volition to talk about this."

"You are not me. You will only ever be yourself." He says, evenly, loosening his stance even more so, as he looks over into the stands to find his wife. (Reasoning more-so with himself than the man before him.) Even if Ethlyn had returned to him in one piece, he felt unsettled by it all. By the notion of being a shape of a man in her heart, so readily filled by another. If he was a more sympathetic fool, he would have wondered how Raymond felt about all this. "I do not think you want me to be sorry for you. Nor do you want me to forgive you. So you've approached me with transparency yet I do not have much to offer."

"So I suppose we are strangers. And as long as you no longer meet her under the pretense of lovers, we can remain so."

He tosses one more javelin, one that scatters against the target, before rolling embarrassingly at the foot of its legs. Quan rubs the bridge of his nose, scowling at his quick and hellish descent.

"Damn. Just my luck."

@peerlessscowl

The Heart of the Matter