princebonesy

[princebonesy]

   Him and his mouth. He shouldn't have discussed opiates to begin with… the lady seemed troubled. Time to change the subject.

   "Queens and princesses, you say?" Cefin echoed, his intrigue settling into a subtle smile. He had sisters, yes. One a ruler, the other an explorer – both have been explorers. Much like himself, in their own ways – actions dictated by the powers of the continent.

   Yet to speak of them was to reveal too much.

   "I have been fortunate to know women of great wisdom and ambition." A truth carefully phrased. "But it is never too late to map out a destination, lady Yan. Nothing grand, start with somewhere small… For your first location: a place that brings you pure joy?"

   His gaze relaxed, bemusement creeping in. Perhaps at her curiosity, or perhaps at how long it took to realize the sensation of something crawling atop his head. The praying mantis perched on his eyepatch. Its spindly limbs balanced as though claiming dominion over his vision.

   He remained blissfully unaware.

THERE HAD been some freedom in it, though she couldn't quite imagine it - how it would feel like to go travelling the realm without something that tethered back to a singular place. In her case, the tether had been that of a sibling bond and she had wondered if the duke, perhaps, had siblings.

"It must be very liberating to be so free to do what you wish and go where you wish to go. While I am not so free, I do find my... courtly positing a rather unrestrictive one. I doubt I'd be this leisurely should I have been a princess or a queen. They all seem so very troubled, all the time."

was it?

She didn't recall seeing it, but then again, she didn't quite pay attention to the vegetation around herself when she'd first entered the Asterian palace. As the duke continued speaking, Yanyan found herself nodding along.

"Indeed, I have heard they can lead to rather nasty illusions and nightmares, and can even lead to untimely death if too much of it is consumed. Somehow, in nature, the prettiest things are often the deadliest."

like this masquerade.

[princebonesy]

   The lady Aria? They were both acquainted when he needed to peruse the Velours's archive. Were her words truth or claim? What did she hope to gain from the revelation?

   “Won't an introduction defeat the purpose of a masquerade, milady?” Bemusement laced his tone, although his focus lingered elsewhere – the lady’s watchful gaze apparent. Her words reassured, but only to those who wished to be, it did nothing to placate his restless mind.

   In due time then. However, he'd stop at nothing to get to the bottom of this... Frigoria had just as much to lose like the rest.

   “Her Majesty is fortunate to have you as a guest. Perhaps I have been hasty with my concerns." His tone lightened, masking the depth of consideration. "I would do my queen a disservice were I to show fear outright instead of ease. What we must represent is unity.”

   An affirmation, but not towards Sotera. Although, he held out hope for Valeria and her sister's wellbeing.

   “A pleasure, lady Aria Velour.” Cefin tested the name on his tongue, noting its weight within Asterian court circles. "I imagine your station grants you keen insight into their riddles.”

" we all ruminate on something. it is in our nature to seek answers to questions unknown , unasked. their performance is a thing of riddles , are we not in our power to solve it ? it would suit us better to consider it a play to give us something to entertain ourselves with. " violet gaze slide from the man , wanders into shadows pooling in corners of the room. a thing of life and beauty , in their darkness they are absolute , like the light imperceptibly pooling beneath her feet. glowing core of magic and eyes of gold.

" i still consider them a jest made in an attempt to astonish us. whoever they are , they have succeeded in their ploy. should we look deeper into their performance , we might task ourselves with a fool's errand. everything with come to light in due time. " watchful gaze slides back to the man , gold-red ribbon forks into four pieces , directions , vanishes into nothing. it vexes , puzzles her. strange magic at hand , without a doubt.

" i do not recall us meeting before. lady aria velour , sworn to asteria's king. "

[princebonesy]

   Aside from the aforementioned magic, the lady provided two circumstantial constituents.

   Cefin then noticed the sigh. A detachment from discussing her magic perhaps? Unlike Maeve, he wasn't as close to Vivian; no prior intimacy to draw distinctions but to gauge outside-in. His discomfort rose at the distance between them, which he tried to stifle — he was here for a repose after all. His effort prevailed by overemphasis, his features now schooled into that of impassivity.

   “Thank you, Vivian.” A stiff gratitude. “It puts perspective into their construction.”

   Quick. Build the conversation.

   “As for motives, the one most versed in magic-based fear tactics would be…” He closed his eye. “...Captain Madrid.”

   The general and his false rank weren't spoken out of bitterness, but an emphasis was present. He had already suspected Vivian's amusement toward their rivalry. Cefin finally took a swig from his drinking glass, the familiar burn coating his throat.

   Would she disclose her opinion on the identity of the orchestrators? Her unwavering confidence was reserved for one Valerian alone. Eris.

   He’d have to humor her then.

   “And… even if pirates were responsible, we'd be suspecting our people once more.” His index finger tapped at the glass. “Wouldn't be fair to dismiss foreign continents, either; there are those who have aligned with the kingdoms. Not a one-man job had this been external – think of our own migrating.”

   He put aside his drink.

VIVIAN smirked at his words, drawing the glass of whiskey to her mouth, taking a sip, before setting it back on the table, fingers drumming against the wooden surface. It had seemed everyone had drawn their lines when mysteries were involved, but she doesn't really know how to call this. A mystery? Perhaps. Or perhaps it was just as dull a joke as it had appeared, with their apparent chaotic behavior.

she'd still suspected the Queen, to be fair.

Perhaps she had been unfair towards Eris, but this did seem like her brand of magic. Ah, time will tell, it always does. Nothing else is as unchanging as the flow of time. "What other kingdoms? I thought we are other kingdoms." she snorted out in amusement, reaching for another sip of the liquor.

"I doubt there is another hidden kingdom. Were would they hide, in the sea? Wouldn't that make them pirates, then? We have ways of dealing with those, don't we?" she retorted, but pursed her lips in thought.

"They could be rebels. From either one of the kingdoms, or even a fraction of our own, though your sister runs a very tight ship, I doubt anyone would dare. Or be foolish enough to do it with her, present."

but, then he asked of her power and she rolled her shoulders.

She didn't particularly enjoy speaking of her power. But, she understood the need of it, if only to rule out another individual cursed with her gifts. "Not necessarily, but you have a point there. I think at least three magic users have been responsible for forming that thing. One, someone with the power over earth, obviously, for the twigs and branches. Secondly, air user to dispel the ashes that came after the third helper, probably someone tied to illusion magic to make it speak and glint in that weird way it did. The... decomposing, could have just been the earth user revering the control of their magic. From what I can think of." Vivian sighed.

"What do you think?"

[princebonesy]

   No.

   Not here.

   If his assumptions about darkness wielders were correct, their discussion would get compromised. Coded speech was a riddler's field.

   “Gladly. I believe the night flowers should be in bloom tonight – could you accompany me to the gardens?” He lowered his head to her ear. “Watch your steps… follow my lead,” he spoke in an even but low tone.

   Whispers echoed in cavernous areas especially among stone structures without wood to stifle the ringing, a mistake he once made while hiding in the wilderness. And his sister knew his magic did not mask sounds.

   As for a diversion, he'd have to mislead them should a chase ensue. By now, they would have located his quarters, but not his retinue's. Not HAVOC… she posed as a guard. Likely monitored — NARCISSUS then. The barracks should be near the gardens, but the targeted room was a few doors down from his.

   Cefin walked away. His hand positioned to merge, holding out the free one for Eris to hold.

HOW WAS she faring? As well as one could, given the situation at hand. Erida, while chaos wielder by nature, had not been as chaotic as they all thought - her sibling included, specially the youngest Valerian. Yes, she was prone to bits of... madness every now & then, but it was a price she had to pay for protecting her empire well.

contrary to popular belief, she doesn't want for damnatio to end.

Frigoria is not ready to return back to the stage, it is not ready for it's dark power to survive the foul scrutiny of the others. She had sent her... most trusted advisors & allies - one of which had been her brother - to gouge just how much more powerful the Two had become, just how much hidden hatred had festered in their hearts.

she ought to speak with Vivian.

"As well as I can fare in such trying times, little brother. But, I did not come here to seek you for information. Though, I would like to hear your thoughts about the Thorned King statue & it's... courtiers."

[princebonesy]

   Cefin released a huff of relief, returning Yinuo's smile. To be trusted as a friend, not as a prince, gave him great comfort. When faced with another's obligation, it can get intimidating, if not hollow. Consent was different; it sprang from sincerity, it transformed vows into something immensely special – a truth most courtiers seemed to have forgotten and exploited.

   Yinuo's response caused his brows to crease — how could the man underestimate himself?

   His gaze softened.

   “You say that... as if it should come as a surprise… It's refreshing to witness both confidence and modesty from you. Still, you have my gratitude, Yinuo. Should the reaper succeed with stealing, allow me the confrontation to drag you both out of the underworld.”

   He chuckled, remembering the lord's offer and mention of libraries. “Trust that I never tire of hearing your discoveries. While facts enlighten, so does perspective.”

   It helped reframe opinions. To Cefin, the greatest part of traveling was the cultural immersion and communities – of the lives whose stories needed remembrance before time's currents washed them away.

   He clapped Yinuo on the back. “Come, I'll help with your bardic dilemma.” With a final scan of the corridor, he readied himself to fall in line. Finally, this probe became an even match: a two on two.

【 𝑭𝒊𝒏: 𝑪𝑬𝑭𝑰𝑵 & 𝒀𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑶. 】

at cefin's offer, yinuo paused, glancing back at him while he spoke. his eyebrows raised slowly as the other man asked his question. if he said he wasn't surprised, he'd be lying—didn't the prince have a small retinue for exactly this sort of scenario? why ask him instead?

to get a better grasp on the scale of this thing.

but as the prince continued, he found himself smiling slightly. when cefin had finished, he took a step closer, lowering his voice; careful not to echo through the chamber. "i am...touched that you trust me enough to ask, cefin," he replied softly, giving him a small grin. "loyalists or rebels; i can take care of myself. still, the sheer fact that you ask surprises me—you say this like i wouldn't be telling you, anyway."

with a quiet chuckle, yinuo stepped back, nodding to the prince. "anything i come across is yours to know. if there's anything specific you want me to look into, just ask—i spend most free time in the library anyway; it would not look out of place."

"and i throw away nothing. believe me." nothing about this seemed life-threatening as of yet. he wouldn't mind digging a little bit while it was still safe.

[princebonesy]

   A kin’s restless eyes begot regret. He knew her strengths — from heartache into defiance and frustrations. Because he hadn't been there for her when he should have, he should not pretend that he wholly shared Maeve's pain. Despite this self-awareness, it got to the three of them still.

   His pupil dilated in his vacillation – briefly. He hoped it went unnoticed, for the body cannot lie as much as one would try to suppress.

   “I should be,” Cefin admitted. “And you are not alone in this.”

   Then she questioned Eris. Home. This would not do — there were too many factors to consider. They must stand united. Otherwise, they let their people down; they let their adversaries relish in what they presume to be successful baiting. Let the other rulers waver, but never them.

   “No.” His hand found her shoulder to ground her, steeling his gaze out of surety for her measuring. “I understand why you believe so… because it's well orchestrated, but this cacophony screams desperation. Shameless, even for her. It doesn’t suit the bloodline.”

   His grip tightened, not in reprimand but reassurance. “Don’t mistake my words for blind faith. I know what troubles you… but we cannot afford to waver now.”

   Came the silent plea from the quiet prince: trust me. Trust us. And yet, how much of that plea was for himself as well?

Briefly greeting the well known guards, the Princess of Ice turns to elder brother, wide smile pulls at rose tinted lips, ice blue gown rustles at motion. She looks at Cefin, ice-blue eyes fix upon the matching hue of the Valerian male's gaze. Concerned, relieved - shared emotion between siblings. Aware of the implications of the jesters around them, the entertainment of the evening turning to a threat and malicious jest, Maeve scans her brother's attire and posture.

"I am well. I have been well. All is well. Well, all except for today." Maeve allows him to guide her away from prying eyes. A thought rakes over her brain and leaves her restless.

"Are you well, though?" ask leaves her lips but she succumbs to her fear. "Do you think they could be one of hers? The jesters. I feels like our home and as much as I love her -- this does seem like her."

[princebonesy]

   Heavy limbs. Fatigue settled in his frame, but those can be mended through a warm-up – after proper rest. Cefin rolled back his shoulders, but such ease had fled him. What was he even expecting? A panacea? Not tonight.

   Nearby was a lit torch, but shadows crept aplenty. Should he vacate his veil?

   Footsteps tread. There. A figure emerged from their dark hall and phased into the light of his, resembling his eldest sister. Ah, no. That was her.

   He blinked once, twice slowly, then his veil dissipated as he stepped forward, standing before her.

   “Eris…” Had she been tracking him? Not unusual for her, but what did she need him for?

   “It has,” he spoke softly, disregarding his weariness in place of a smile. “Of course, I am all ears. How are you faring?”

   The inspection did not faze him, but his lack of progress did. His search for either jester's testimonies of trustworthiness was futile. Neither stealth nor his darkness benefited him — they covered tangible tracks well. Or an associate made the concealment. As for the intangible, his limits pertained to darkness. If the jesters somehow wielded one… then their methods were far beyond him in craft. Perhaps bespoke.

location & timeline: isolated corridor in asteria's quarters, after the throned king's disappearance, before dawn.

availability: closed for @princebonesy !

SHE HAD expected to see her siblings among the attendees tonight, but she had not been prepared for such a grand event to take centre stage for the rest of the evening, scattering more than enough dancers and guests, back to where they came from - their chambers, probably.

no one in their sane mind would travel back home at night.

Not with the Thorned King as a threat, though. Eris had been meaning to speak with her brother for the entirety of the night, but somehow, something had always prevented her from it, keeping her to the other sides of the castle, in an orbit that had not yet converged with either one of her siblings - that just wouldn't do.

Following an orb of chaos she had manifested, she tracked the shared brand of it within the Valerian bloodline, tracking her brother down to a corridor in the Asterian quarters. How interesting.

"It has been a while, little brother." Eris called out, approaching, "I wish to speak to you, but let me first have a good look at you. It seems it's been ages, rather than weeks since we've last seen each other."

[princebonesy]

   Guided her, yes. But he did not question Eris. He never had.

   He had to – he had to stifle a sigh, but composure fled him. His breath dropped harsh. Ragged. “It is our people that unease me, milady. The zealous sort. Not our queen.”

   Broken wordings stirred by words. Mirena's words stung. He could not contain the tremor in his hands. Steady, steady…! Cefin clenched them, but what was left to console?

   Yes — each and every Frigorian was theirs, but they belonged to their people just the same. Dualities. Weren't the Valerians once rebels too? Blood dictated rulers, yet his progenitors still seized the throne. By backing and force. Had Mirena not stood before the lament of hopefuls? Had she forgotten how easily a betrothal was made? How quickly a nation could disappear from history? Of theirs and their people — rewritten? Those advantaged with power… they forgot themselves, perhaps he also had. Perhaps everything was a calculated move in Frigoria's grand design he so desperately wished to comprehend.

   Cefin's gaze hardened.

   “Then tell me, cousin — of their intended audience? The pair and their Hallows.”

   He expected actual intel, not another interpretation.

   He did not seek the latter. He did not need it.

The family safety. Something drilled in her life's force since birth. Should loyalties to Frigoria wane, the Cruel king would have taken the lives of her and the Rosceau line, leaving only her baby brother to inherit the title. There always has to be a Rosceau in Frigoria to assure the ancient line to the throne and the Wicked king remains unbroken, the familial spells of blood and earth in rightful hands.

Lips stretch to smile, dark gaze flashes darker. The question leaves his lips, dancing between what he deems safe to ask and what he wishes to ask. Smile stretches further, but anger simmers in veins, warms the cold blood. "Prevalent, yes, but not foolish. They are not ours, duke Balmain. Do you think your sister would be foolish enough to risk the breaking of it before it's due? No no no. Eris is smart despite the madness within." smile turns to smirk that turns to a rasp chuckle.

"Just ask what you desire, cousin. I have no ill will and no steep price to pay. Information for information. Is that not our deal?"

[princebonesy]

AEMOND TARGARYEN HOUSE OF THE DRAGON — 1.08 "The Lord of the Tides"

[princebonesy]

   It's not as though you're in charge here.

   He was not.

   And relief washed over him until he took note of the man's urgency. “I am aware,” he acknowledged with a nod, but his hand curled in a loose fist.

   The palace had been compromised. Much longer, he feared. He and Yinuo both knew of the games — the lengths their people would go to infiltrate the other courts, but even he lacked the intel on every concealed route. Hidden passages would always lead to posterns, if not secret chambers. But where? He scanned the shadows for signs of distortion, for concealed eavesdroppers, but found none. Good.

   “I'd like to offer you a proposition.” He blinked twice in assessment, not certain how he should describe the details of his mission.

   “You needn't answer now… but I must implore you for your vigilance. Any information you uncover, relating to the past event, I ask that we exchange them – my findings and yours. I'm under the impression that our comedians aren't friends of the empire.” His voice lowered upon the mention of empire, cautious of how whispers echo within cavernous architecture.

   “We could be dealing with loyalists… There is a low chance they could be rebels, but as far as I know, they do not have the backing and resources to orchestrate something of this scale.”

   As for the notion of rebels… he inhaled sharply. Improbable. He felt for their plight, still, he couldn’t rule them out.

   “This is not a command…” Cefin's tone softened. “And I do not ask as your prince, but as a friend. Should you choose to help me, you mustn’t, under any circumstance, endanger yourself — my men and I are more than capable of handling the drudgery. You must promise me, Yinuo.”

   He smiled, despite the pinch between his brows, he still smiled. As prince, Cefin had already signed his life away to oblivion, but not Yinuo. He cannot burden another life, but he was desperate. As long as the man would not take risks in… this personal mission.

   “You still have a life beyond this, y'know? You mustn't throw it away.”

the young lord chuckled at that, shaking his head. "well, i do what i am able." at cefin's response, he nodded shortly. "well, we weren't expecting it. no one was, clearly. besides, it's not as though you are in charge here." he gave the other man a half-shrug. "it happened. hopefully, it will not happen again."

"likely so." yinuo nodded along, mind racing. the sudden appearance of the pot-stirrers felt...chaotic, to say the least. if they truly had "laid asleep" for millennia, as they stated, then why bother showing their face now? why bother showing their face at all? what did they wish to gain out of this?

eventually, he simply shook his head. "...either way, i...doubt anyone will be finding them tonight." yinuo glanced down the hallway. "i have a feeling our jesters are long gone by this point."

[princebonesy]

   What should have been a smile strayed to the thinning of lips, a reaction contrasting his cousin's surety. He lowered his gaze in contemplation. Those within Frigoria's zenith of power had long underestimated the strengths of the two kingdoms. Magic alone did not guarantee might; there were many ways to topple a kingdom. Cefin would not risk their retaliation. And would the barrier continue to hold despite the growing opposition? He had heard the rumors — of schemes and an insurrection. He had personally witnessed the unrest from afar.

   Cefin gauged Mirena for any signs of doubt or deceit. Yet he was met with absolute composure and suaveness; any indication from her had passed his check.

   “Still sore, not headless, and purged of horse odor.” He laughed at his words – in the breathless way he was notable for. Subtle and silvery and unassuming. “Yet having found another familiar face gladdens me… milady. You have my gratitude for ensuring the family's safety.”

   At least they were in agreement on maintaining false identities. But her phrasing was not a suggestion, neither counsel nor command – it was a reminder. That, he understood. What he did not know was the cost of such loyalty.

   What he was about to say prompted him to survey each wing of the hall, locating telltale signs of darkness magic. Finding none, he exhaled. “I presume these jests are prevalent among loyalists? A sort of… hazing tradition, enacted upon courtiers across the realms each time the spell nears termination?”

   Initially, he had considered being forthright with his questions. But with Mirena, timing and civility dictated everything. This was just the warm up. And should they arrive at a gamble, what would she want in return? More importantly, what was he willing to part with?

"Dear cousin, the only unsightly thing would have been if you had come here without a head." Chuckle leaved the lips, gaze fixes upon the white haired prince of the Valerian line. A substitute. Second in the line, should the Ancient one succumb to her bouts of madness.

"Once upon a time seems like a safe bet. It had spoken about once had it not? We are still undetected by the commoners and the nobles of the kingdoms. As far as they can tell, I am a simple lady of an ancient, Asterian house of Rosceau. No matter the house did not exist prior to my arrival." Laughter leaves lips, smile widens in glee.

"Relax. They have been troublesome, but we ought not to show a hair out of place, lest we reveal ourselves. Fret not, I am protecting us with spells." blood spells, a forte, a shield, a weapon.

"Matters of the jest aside, have you travelled well, dear cousin?"

[princebonesy]

   Cefin returned her bow although his brows creased instinctively at the specifics. Asteria's King? Unwed? And stubbornly withal… So Lady Yan was conferred the responsibility of attending the bride-to-be. The grapevine did whisper of some such. Had she realized how freely she had spoken of such sensitive affairs? Perhaps – perhaps not. Yet here they stood. Beneath another memento of the realms; a childhood memory that had followed them all the way to Sotera.

   Softness.

   Her second smile undid his trouble-plagued features.

   “I am,” he answered quietly. “Although I hold little sway over the court, with no land to the Balmain name, but… there is a freedom in that. One I rather enjoy.”

   A breeze passed them, and he tucked away a stray lock of hair before it could obscure his vision.

   “I imagine the Datura is a common sight among the kingdoms,” he mused, shifting the conversation. “Built to withstand all manner of soil. But my retinue has expressly forbidden me from using its flowers in cooking. Something about its hallucinogenic properties?”

ENCHANTING. Indeed, the trees of the Datura had been an enchanting sight. She had read, somewhere, that they have been... hallucinogenic. Sparking illusions, hallucinations, things of the uncanny. Perhaps they had been wrong, the texts she had stumbled upon in her father's study, nestled deep beneath maps and trinkets and... strange letters written in an eerie, bloodred ink. Had t been blood, on those parchments? Writing about things she could not decipher, but speaking in great lengths of the magical potency of the Datura.

they must have been right.

Why else would she feel a strange sensation, something akin to familiarity about the unfamiliar lord - no duke, as he had introduced himself. But, she had been almost certain she had never met him before. His pale hair, however, reminded her of another, of a friend of hers, Maeve - but, she had lost her in the crowd and they were unable to chat since the beginning of the masquerade.

She smiled and offered a short bow to the duke Balmain. "Lady Zhao Yan of Asteria. I am supposed to be the lady in waiting to our future queen, but alas, our king remains stubbornly unwed." though there have been talks about Yixin's engagement to the Spare heir of Sotera, she had to admit she hadn't been very... thrilled about it.

she couldn't really say why.

She felt like an overprotective sister sometimes, feeling as if the king had been another brother to her, rather than the cold ruler that kings were supposed to be ( though his father had not been called Benevolent for nothing ).

"No, no, no trespassing. I believe they said the gardens are open to the public at any given time. I was just admiring the tree. I hadn't seen one since leaving my hometown in Asteria."

Yanyan turned, purposely distracting herself from observing the duke by offering him another smile and asking ;

"Are you from Sotera? I don't recall seeing you in the Asterian royal party, though I suppose I haven't really met everyone from Asteria."

[princebonesy]

EWAN MITCHELL behind the scenes of HOUSE OF THE DRAGON The House that Dragons Built — 2.04

[princebonesy]

just replace "human beings" with cefin 🤡 sorrynotsorry

Common Frank Bidart banger (from "In the Ruins," in Half-Light: Collected Poems 1965-2016)

[princebonesy]

Ewan Mitchell as Aemond Targaryen

2.01 • A Son for a Son

[princebonesy]

   Cheers erupted among his retinue.

   His left shoulder blade jolted at the playful smack from HAVOC, while his adjacent received three pats from NARCISSUS, who then wandered to a nearby settee, muttering something like ‘good man’ under his breath. The other left to join their friend.

   But the words lenient and pretty boy confounded him. Lenient to friends, yes. But pretty boy? Since when? Disagreeing with the latter, he lowered his hand, thumb grazing his nose bridge twice in absent gesture. While heady from irritation, he did release a strained laugh to her bait. “Not quite, Viv. You may very well expect me to…” He let the pause stretch, then inclined his head to the duo. “...count your words, and theirs, with the tip.”

   Cefin appreciated her banter. Instead of condescension, she was haste to synergize under tension, especially after their boorish behavior.

   Her earlier statement about his sister… was a distressing notion. Her magic was powerful, but not of this scale. If it was then he knew her less than he thought. Still, he would not let assumptions take root before he had proof. And Vivian. Queries with her could go either way: go with a direct approach or go with a convoluted one, but this was him. He'd choose the former. To approach her as himself, foregoing blood privilege. If nothing else, she should understand that her honesty would never make her his enemy. But unlike her, he had found no amusement in the jesters’ work.

   Cefin leaned over the table, reaching for the drinking glass. In his grasp, the glass was not cold, which indicated that Vivian hadn't been here for long.

   “Getting back to the point — mysteries is where I draw the line, Viv.” His thumb traced the rim. “Their satire reeked of veiled threats… toward the realms. Either a casus foederis or a false flag. If they intended for the latter, I had hoped it wasn't one sent by foreign kingdoms beyond what we already contend with.”

   Were they facing a declaration from new players or chauvinists? He couldn't rule out the possibility of Frigorian rebels either. Even more conundrums, another fool's errand. Letting go of the glass, his hand drifted to his sideburns, set to tuck them away before pausing mid-air.

   This happened every time he had an epiphany.

   “There weren't any signs of metalwork among the ashes,” he murmured, the thought settling into place. His gaze locked on hers. “How would one go about involving decay magic? Illusions and enchantments have their limits. They don't generate… tangibles.” Not the kind he was familiar with, but Vivian might have her own conclusions. Decay was her forte.

WELL, THIS had been an unexpected surprise - though, not much of a surprise, but more of an amusement. "Oh, no, no. I am amused alright. Your sister's entire plan could be thrown in jeopardy with the... whatever that thing had been. Though, perhaps, that was her plan. Don't you think it just reeks of her chaos magic? I mean, what better way to terrify the kingdoms, but to hint there's another one right beneath their feet?"

though they haven't really been beneath their feet as much as... between and a bit northward for the impenetrable mountain range.

yes. fun.

"I take it you have been amused by them, then? The little branched monstrosity and the minions with bad limericks and equally disastrous tone deaf playing? You'd think they'd at least tune their instruments. But, maybe that's the ploy. To unnerve us with it, set the board for the game of mystery."

he spoke to his guards, and Vivian cocked her head to the side, observing the rather... informal, if not intimate ( in a way all close friends were ) way of speaking and her... rotting nature would just not let it slip her by.

"I didn't peg you for someone so lenient, Pretty Boy." she tried her luck with a wicked grin. "Should I expect a blade at my throat for the moniker, or are you this lenient to all of your friends?"

[princebonesy]

   He had rushed past the flora. All the roses misty in its flush; there were climbing vines like trailing tears. And orchids… were they even orchids? None of them mattered. Not compared to this.

   The moment Cefin caught sight of the Datura, his steps slowed to treks. Still his breath steadied, still his hands trembled at his sides. This was a different tree, but to him, it stood just as he remembered, its pale flowers now lulled by daylight. It had been a familiar sight in Frigoria, lingering like ghosts in the castle gardens.

   Home.

   But his hesitation came at a cost. By the time he noticed the figure ahead, forward momentum carried him. He stopped short only as his hair swayed from his sudden halt.

   Close! Far too close... Cefin's gaze snapped to hers.

   All he caught were impressions. How sunlight softened her features, the contrast between dark lashes and fair skin. It took him longer than it should have to register what she had said.

   There was something almost disarming… the way she spoke, an ease that did not match the weight constricting his chest. He tried to push away a recent nightmare… of losing the council's trust, his people, his siblings.

   “It is their nature to hide from daylight,” he murmured, eye surrendering to the sight of shut blooms. His voice slightly strained.

   Like ghosts, or Frigoria itself.

   He finally turned his full attention to her, studying rather than looking. Something about the Asterian lady's presence — the way she stood beneath the Datura so comfortably — unsettled a part of him he did not have the time to name.

   "Although I imagine," he continued, recovering from his own lapse, "that those who are more accepting of the night might find them all the more… enchanting?"

   …

   Cefin blinked at another realization.

   “Ah – Haluin. Duke Haluin Balmain,” he introduced himself. “Pardon my lack of manners and sudden trespass, milady.”

   He did not ask for her name. He was so certain that their encounter was chanced, defined by this single moment until he sets off for another trip.

location & time: the gardens of sotera, late morning after the masquerade.

availability: open to all !

NIGHTMARES plaguing her night's rest aside, Zhao Yan had been having a swell time in Sotera. Alright, nightmares, the jesters, the absolutely creepy idea of a hidden kingdom and subsequently an entire civilization apart ; she'd been having a good time.

The mask were pretty, people were - mostly - polite, everyone had been having fun ( until the jesters had arrived but she had promised herself she won't be thinking about it anymore ) and overall she had met with some old friends, and made new ones.

a success.

Strolling down to the gardens after finally kicking into gear, Yanyan had been standing beneath the Datura tree. The flower had closed once more, the moment the night had turned into day. Perhaps it was for the best - the flowers had been... a little eerie, looking quite a bit like some monster's long forgotten trumpet.

Still, it had reminded her of home, of the village called Frigoria she had lived in her entire life. It had been filled with the Datura. Turning towards the sound of footsteps, Yanyan smiled to the intruder.

"The garden looks rather lovely in the daylight. Though, it is a shame the Datura only blooms at night. They are quite the sight once their flowers open."