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faejilly · 1 year

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once upon a time I was doing a gift exchange for 7kpp and nothing I wrote work so I did a fanmix and made some TEA instead! (Did you like any of the tea, @awaylaughing? I don't recall) and then today, for no apparent reason, I was looping Hozier and feeling bad about how I keep wanting to write but then don't actually do it... and found a Sheltered Princess/Emmett thing from the POV's of the Chaperones in my WIP folder and finished it! Because Brains! Are Crazy-Cakes! (affectionate) Please Enjoy some observations re: Princess Wilhelmina Temperance of Arland and her Earl.

Emmett had known that he would see her.

Of course The Princess would be here. Even before Katyia herself, this is exactly what Arland Princesses always did. Who they always were.

He'd even known it would be difficult, was aware of his own weaknesses, his own flaws, but he hadn't realized it would hit him so hard, just seeing her walk into the Main Hall, seeing the Skalt Lady approach, watching other people see – her. See her, the way no one else in Arland ever had. The Princess was a wonderful young lady, of course everyone else would eventually see it too. It wasn't as if he didn't want her to succeed, didn't want people to know how amazing she was. He just –

It hurt, a little, to know that he would probably never have his friend by his side again, to know that there had never been a chance that he would, despite how fondly he remembered her, how much he'd looked forward to seeing her again, even if just at formal events at Court.

This was worse than Court.

This was going to be good-bye, and he hadn't even managed to say hello yet.

He was afraid that she'd see his worry and think he wasn't pleased to see her, wasn't always happy at the thought of her.

But then she came toward him, and he was glad enough at the sight of pleased recognition she didn't try to hide that he forgot about the future entirely and smiled at the present instead.

It was quite entertaining to realize that he’d been wrong about the Arland Princess. That didn’t happen to Woodly very often. But here she was, holding her own quite successfully through the formal introductions, alert and observant and with a smile almost as engaging as his own niece’s.

He’d dismissed her entirely at the Welcome Feast, convinced she was an even paler and quieter echo of her sister, the one who’d let herself be sold to Corval despite being smart enough to recognize how pleasant her soon-to-be-husband wasn’t.

To be fair, if Penelope had been of an age with Constance, the King and Queen might very well have tried to do the same with her, and Penelope would undoubtedly have agreed, despite also being smart enough to recognize a man who wouldn’t care a bit for her own preferences in the least. (Sometimes Woodly despaired of his sister’s sense, but that was neither here nor there.) Lisle would have fought it though, so it was well that hadn’t been an option.

But here young Princess Wilhelmina was, exquisitely formal with the one deeply unpirate-like Hisean, then listening to the Skalt Princess to call her Mina without looking the least bit upset by the informality. Penelope adored her, which required a bit of a gentle touch, and yet she was vibrant enough that neither the actual pirates nor the Corvali thought her dull. Even the Jiyel delegates were willing to converse with her, and Duke Lyon didn’t like anyone, and Lady Avalie only liked people she could play with.

She was singularly useless for any of the games Woodly himself liked to play, of course, but she was, nonetheless, a singular and effective delegate for Arland. Much more useful than that Earl, who refused to allow an unkind word about anyone, regardless of how much they might deserve it.

Would wonders never cease. An Arland Princess with a hint of a spine.

This Summit was certainly never boring.

Yvette thought her Princess deserved better. Such a bright young woman ought to be able to reach for more than her status as a gift Arland would bestow upon an ally who was willing to put up with her. (Perhaps they all deserved better than Summit machinations and noble politics, but that was a question for future generations to answer, not a single Duchess in her private thoughts.)

The Princess was quiet and polite, exactly as she had been trained to be. But she caught the eye, shone with her own inner light, a light that was already brighter than it had been at the Welcome Feast, and she’d handled that particular challenge with grace, deprecation, and a surprisingly charismatic and self-aware touch of humor, even when that young Zarad had dragged her into a highly inappropriate dance in front of everyone.

Constance would have been so proud of Mina if she’d seen it. Not that Yvette allowed herself to consider Princess Constance too often; that led to worrying about how she was doing, trapped at Prince Aamir’s side.

Yvette swallowed a sigh, and made sure her hands stayed loose in her lap, no tension visible anywhere in her body, even as she had to fight not to squint against the light of a rising sun. She’d managed to place herself outside the stable before anyone else, but the chaperones and servants and delegates would be here soon for the ride, and she could not let her worry show. Not for Arland or the Summit, past, present or future, not for the Princess as Princess or simply as a young lady in a difficult place.

Most especially not for her poor darling Earl, who she knew was painfully aware that half the Isle could tell that he was hopelessly in love with his Princess, by far the least eligible match for either of them to attempt here at this Summit.

Katyia would probably have insisted they be matched regardless; this time Yvette had to swallow a smile at the thought. Perhaps, somehow, even without Katyia, they’d manage a small bit of happiness, at least for awhile.

Yvette’s smile escaped her control, that thought too sweet to entirely dismiss.

Perhaps she had more hope left in her bones for this Summit than she’d thought.

Falon thought the boat race was the least painful activity of the Summit. It required actual effort and forethought and tactics from the delegates, and did not require he make small-talk about things he couldn’t possibly know anything about, and wouldn’t want to chatter about even if he did.

A Hisean team always won it, of course, but it was interesting to watch what the other delegates decided to do. Did they choose to forego it entirely and network among the spectators? Did they back Hise and their easy victory? Did they put on a show of their own boat, costumes or decorations or fancy tricks to draw the eye? Did they fight for that second place spot, did they try and make Hise work for their victory?

It was fascinating, and a good way to see how all the different delegations were starting to relate to each other, an idea of who could work with who, who might be able to reach a hand across a bargaining table by the end of the Summit and have someone grasp it back.

He had never expected two of the Hise delegates to agree to back an Arlish Captain though. One who had somehow managed to entice his damnable Duke out of the library to participate! And a Wellin Princess. It was the most cosmopolitan ship in the competition.

And then it won.

Hise lost.

Hise lost the boat race to Arland.

Falon didn’t know what to do with that. He couldn’t figure out what it meant, it was too improbable to have even considered it as a possible conclusion. Falon was so disconcerted, he didn’t even manage to catch Lyon before he retreated back inside after the race. Not that it would probably have worked, but Falon didn’t even manage to try.

He did manage to congratulate the rest of the team however, and he didn’t think he sounded nearly as bewildered as he felt.

On the one hand, it was good that there were delegates with the strength of will and character to actually make things happen.

On the other, he had a feeling he was going to spend the next five weeks wishing he’d been assigned as Chaperone for a less interesting Summit.

Jaslen loved the Matchmaker’s breakfast. The only real chance anyone had to see what of the Matchmaker’s opinions she was willing to let be seen in public, and so close to the one banquet at the Summit that still held so tightly to Katyia’s dreams rather than everyone else’s fears; there was always something to learn about how well the behind-the-scenes maneuvering was going.

Plus the delegates were always so delightfully chaotic, the stresses of the Summit and the anticipation of the remaining weeks only getting worse…

When Jaslen had flitted through the dining hall prior to any of the delegates arriving, she’d thought placing the poor Arland Princess in between the Revaire Prince and that idiot Blain was uncharacteristically cruel of the Matchmaker. She had no patience for incompetence, but she didn’t usually twist the knife after (metaphorically) stabbing some delegate who hadn’t impressed her.

But then breakfast actually happened, and Wilhelmina was fine! Calm and polite even while her seatmates bickered and everyone stared at her; she even smiled at that Earl of hers without appearing at all self-conscious when she escaped after Blain’s unsubtle attack.

It was such a nice surprise. Jaslen might have underestimated the Princess, but she wasn’t wrong about the Matchmaker, and that would have been disturbing, after all these years.

Watching Blain fumble his way through the Summit was excruciating enough for one year, she didn’t need to add an absolute failure in her usually impeccable people skills on top of that.

This really was the best morning. She wished she could be a chaperone for every Summit.

Jasper had been quite honored to realize he was assigned to Princess Wilhelmina of Arland herself. The Princesses were always such lovely guests, dutiful but seldom dull, young and hopeful and exactly the sort of people Katyia had most wanted to help.

He met his Princess and she was a joy to serve. Not just for the Summit or his duty or Arland, but for herself, complete and entire. He wished her well, and he saw her rise to every occasion, and for all he knew he could not take the credit, he was so proud.

But it was tinged with fear, not just for the Summit, or the Isle, and definitely not for Arland, but for her and her countryman, her childhood friend, Yvette's young assistant, Earl Emmett of Arland. He was as kind and dutiful as any Arlish Lord could have ever desired, and every time he smiled Jasper could see the Princess light up, and yet.

And yet.

They were both of Arland, and had been excessively well trained. Earl Emmet had traveled enough to be able to bring home a bride from anywhere and be kind to her in a way she'd understand, and the Princess. Well. The Princesses of Arland always left.

Always.

And then the night of the Matchmaker’s banquet he almost missed it, distracted by everything else that had happened (everything that shouldn’t have happened). He barely made himself settle before the Matchmaker stood, but he managed it just in time, standing quiet in his shadows as she began her announcement.

Which included the love match of Princess Wilhelmina of Arland to Earl Emmet of Arland.

There was an instant of total silence in the Hall, regardless of the number of people, regardless of servants and cutlery and food and conversation, regardless of high ceilings and the usual whispers of acoustics designed specifically to pick up everything so it would be almost impossible to overhear any one thing out of all the rest beyond one’s seatmate.

Arland to Arland.

Jasper’s eyes closed, and he didn’t know if it was joy or shock, horror or hope. He opened them to the much more familiar incoherence of a room full of whispering delegations, not a single person without an opinion on that match.

Arland to Arland.

He let himself smile, just a little, and let himself imagine it, a Summit that celebrated a match like that, Arland to Arland, for love and happiness rather than politics and duty.

Mina was sure she was blushing, but she’d noticed the shock after the Matchmaker’s announcement, heard the whispers a moment later, and she couldn’t quite contain it.

She also couldn’t hold in the lift of outright glee at hearing their names announced like that, one after the other. She had no idea how they were going to make this work, but oh, she didn’t regret a moment of choosing her best friend to be her partner, to be her future, no matter what anyone else thought of it. Not even her parents.

And she knew, every time she saw him, every time she thought of him, every time he smiled, or ducked his head, or pushed his sleeves up his arm as if this time they were going to stay, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that Emmett didn’t regret it either.

They only managed one quick moment before they were sent their separate ways, but she could live through a dozen more Summits, and she’d never forget the brilliance of his smile in that moment. Proof, if she’d needed it, that it was worth every effort over the next four weeks to keep him with her, to keep herself with him, to make it out the other side of this Summit

Together.

#jilly writes #7kpp #wilhelmina of arland #earl emmett of arland #sheltered princess #CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO BELOVEDS #the most adorable #and the chaperones #I love them #so many of them are terrible at this chaperone concept #and yet #😅

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angstmongertina · 11 months

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7KPP Promptober 2023: Day 14

This is my last post for this Promptober, but I have been CACKLING about writing it ever since I saw the prompt on the planning list for Promptober this year, courtesy of @teaandinanity, who somehow managed to FORGET what I have associated the word "winsome" with for AGES now. (It's I'm Not That Girl, from Wicked.) I love you so much, Tea! <3

So yes, I continue playing the VaLia 'verse, but rather than all of the fun romcom future stuff, I gotta address the fact that we threw two Lyonmancers into the same universe. And yes, I had MUCH fun with the angst.

Bonus: I tried to reference every verse of I'm Not That Girl, and also there's a SINGLE line of dialogue that was intentionally taken wholesale from Lyon's first date. Can you find it? :D

1.5k words of angst below the cut. Beware!

Lady Camellia of Jiyel.

At the Summit, it was helpful, perhaps even necessary, to identify delegates by their kingdoms, for ease of reference, particularly in the case of those lesser known delegates, such as herself. After all, with the varying titles and systems across the seven kingdoms, it was well-nigh impossible to remember every landholding as well as title, or the equivalents for those without such distributions of property.

For her, however, those four words also served well to summarize her entire status, all that she was to the Summit and indeed, the world as a whole. It was a simple fact that even the Queen of Jiyel herself likely did not recognize her name, to the extent that, if her home was familiar, it was likely for her ancestor’s scandal and not for any recognition of her own status.

She was, in short, not meant to be there.

She shouldn't have been there.

But there she was nonetheless, offered an opportunity stolen from a far more deserving lady, another simple fact that it would not do to forget.

Another simple fact that was, in fact, near impossible to forget, surrounded as she was by other, far more qualified, far more talented and ambitious and prepared delegates.

Indeed, there had only been a single conversation at the Summit thus far in which she had been able to forget the pressures of the environment, the consequences of saying the wrong thing, of accidentally offending the wrong person. In which she could relax and speak of Wang Yingming and Shang Yang without fear of boring or insulting her audience by her lack of charm or charisma or the multitude of other ways she did not belong.

In which, even as inadvisable as it may have been, she could be herself.

Perhaps that was why, when she next had the opportunity to explore the grand library, she found herself studying her surroundings more than she might otherwise in such a treasure trove. It was not a fully aimless perusal, of course—the rumors about the libraries in Vail Isle had reached even her small estate, and were one rumor which had proven to be more than accurate—but for the first time, strangely, impossibly, she found herself paying far more attention to the possibility of certain other delegates than to the writings in question.

And even try as she might, she could identify no explanation for the strange relieved smile, the sudden racing of her heart, when she heard a quiet, already familiar voice from behind a nearby bookshelf. Her steps quickening and perusal forgotten, she turned the corner, a greeting on the top of her tongue, and—

It caught, turning to sawdust in her mouth, at the scene before her.

Logically, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he was not alone; logically, he would have no reason to be speaking out loud, muted but clear enough to be made out even from a distance, if he had been alone, and yet…

And yet…

In just the few days she had spent at the Summit, in the few days just seeing him at mealtimes, if he even attended at all, she’d come to realize that Duke Lyon was not a particularly social or expressive man, even by Jiyelese standards. He was certainly not emotionless, far from it, but he was a man of calm, of self-control that she envied, unlikely to display anything but placid stoicism in company.

Company excepting a bright-eyed, visibly passionate Lady Valeriya, it seemed.

Not that she could blame him; she too had discovered very early on that Lady Valeriya, despite first appearances, was a wonderful, clever young woman who blossomed under attention in a way that any insightful person would recognize, would be touched by. And if he could even be interested in a conversation with her, could even make her feel—

Well, then, surely it was only natural that the two of them together…

The only small mercy was that they hadn’t noticed her yet, captivated as they were by their discussion, something about the merits of direct action or unbiased observation. Then again, from what she had heard of the Duke, Kellem Ives seemed an appropriate topic of conversation, and one that seemed to resonate with his partner as well.

Though, considering the vivacious, downright smitten expression on her face, it seemed as if any conversation with him would resonate with her.

Lia drew a deep breath, holding it in until she could be sure that her exhale would be silent around the tightness in her throat, and turned away. Even as ignorant as she was towards navigating the intricacies of such social situations, even she could recognize when she would be interrupting.

Just as she could recognize instantly, after checking her shoulder against a shelf with an audible bump, when attempting to make an escape would be futile.

“Lady Camellia?”

The fact that it was unmistakably his voice, low and deep and with a hint of shock, somehow made it all the worse; she hesitated for a fraction of a second before turning and dropping into an immediate bow, grateful for the hair that slipped over her shoulders to help block her face from view.

“Good evening, your Grace, Lady Valeriya.”

To her immense relief, her voice held steady, if a touch too cool for the degree of intimacy she already had claim to, at least towards the lady. Unfortunately, however, its finality was not enough to dissuade further inquiry, though she couldn’t blame him for clinging to etiquette in the face of an unwelcome interruption. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” In spite of herself, she glanced towards him, his brow furrowed as if in genuine curiosity, before darting to Lady Valeriya, wide-eyed and still smiling, welcoming, and she had to look away the next second. Even she knew better than to truly believe herself welcome. “I came for the books.” She forced a smile, forced some semblance of a teasing lilt into her voice as she gestured towards the books by her side. “It is a library.”

That appeared to be enough of an explanation to satisfy him, but Lady Valeriya was still watching her in silence and she turned towards the nearest bookshelf, pulling a tome at random. “I apologize for interrupting your conversation. I believe this is what I was searching for.” Turning back, she bowed again, grateful for the opportunity to draw another hidden, shaky breath. “Please excuse me. Have a good evening.”

Thankfully, they allowed her departure without any additional comments, seeming to return to their discussion smoothly, as if there had been no interruption at all. But still, she retreated out of earshot as quickly as she could, a maelstrom of emotions churning in her stomach at the steady brightness of the voices behind her. A maelstrom of embarrassment and guilt and self-recrimination and—

And relief. How could she feel otherwise?

It wasn’t until she had escaped to the privacy of her room, where she was sure to be alone, where she had no chance of disrupting anyone else’s plans, that she allowed herself a moment to pause. That she was able to look down and find herself clutching the book so tightly she had nearly left imprints in the leather binding.

At least she hadn’t managed to crumple the paper underneath.

Taking another steadying breath, she stared down at it, forced each uncooperative finger to relax until she could see the title: From Princess to Peacemaker, a History of Princess Katyia. How very fitting, given her first interaction with Lady Valeriya. And considering…

Subconsciously, she turned her attention to her desk, and the sheaf of papers that her butler had placed there just a few days previously, after she had turned down the opportunity to host an event for the other delegates. She had thought its presence a misguided attempt to persuade her otherwise, but…

But she had seen the way Lady Valeriya’s eyes brightened to something warmer, something genuine, when discussing history, particularly related to Princess Katyia. And she certainly knew of Duke Lyon’s reputation for knowledge in subjects ranging from history to philosophy to mathematics.

Perhaps she could manage to do some good by hosting an event.

When he returned in the morning, she could attempt to convince her butler to squeeze in the event next week. If it went well, it could even provide her standing with Jiyel, her standing at the Summit, a much needed boost, in the only way that she could. She knew better than to believe she had any value, any chance, for a Summit match, but at least she could offer something. And besides…

Lady Valeriya had been through so much already, at such a young age. She deserved happiness, deserved a wonderful marriage to a good man.

And she knew wholeheartedly that Duke Lyon was, that it would be.

She was happy for her. For them both.

And she would prove it, to the world, and to herself.

#Tina rambles.#Tina writes stuff.#Tina plays 7KPP.#7KPP Promptober 2023 #Lady Camellia of Jiyel #VaLia verse

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thornfield13713 · 8 months

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oooh! I didn't know you played 7KPP? Or- have you just started? What characters have you played/are you playing?

Just started yesterday, yeah. And, because I am a fucking lunatic, I started out with the Tomboy Countess and hunting the Lyon. Countess Matilda of Holt is both tough, self-sufficient and outdoorsy and a massive nerd who loves history and historical tactics. Also something of an introvert who hates socialising, so she and her Duke are probably going to retreat to their estates and disappear into a massive book-fort, with only occasional trips out for riding and estate management. I'm playing Story Mode just because it's probably the only way I'll make it all the way to the end.

#seven kingdoms: the princess problem

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altairtalisman · 2 years

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canon ships of ur ocs?

Canon ships? This is going to be a long one...

Parker/Amalia (Sixtended)

Hong/Gisette (7KPP)

Selena/Lyon (7KPP)

Ann/Clarmont (7KPP)

Rose/Zarad (7KPP)

Rana/Emmett (7KPP)

Geo/Vyren (Miitopia)

Calia/Ihya (Miitopia)

Gladea/Theo (Miitopia)

Shui/Luna (Miitopia)

Dae-Yang/Bert (Miitopia)

Cass/Mingyue (Hallowed Hotel)

Marty/Niko (Hallowed Hotel)

Nasir/Noah (Hallowed Hotel)

Chiaki/Hisui (Hallowed Hotel)

Allie/Liz (Adorable Home)

#some pairings aren't inside since I interpreted this as romantic #constellation conversation

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teaandinanity · 2 years

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Day Five - Festival

#7KPP #7kpp week #7kpp week 2022 #OC: Valeriya (Ambitious Widow)#also Lyon and bonus baby Nadia #yes I smashed Qixi and Tanabata together #no I do not know what I'm doing #has that ever stopped me? no.#sometimes I draw things #I got sick of colors like an hour ago so I'm done now #in the continuing tradition of me going 'I don't wanna work on this anymore YEET'

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bee-a-garbage-shipper · 3 years

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Lyon: Hamin, can I talk to you for a second?

Hamin: Yeah, what’s up? Lemme guess. You and Ivory are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss?

Lyon: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

#7kpp #7 kingdoms the princess problem #seven kingdoms the princess problem #7 kingdoms princess problem #seven kingdoms princess problem #otome #western animation #oc: lady captain ivory of hise #c: lady pirate captain of hise #c: duke lyon of jiyel #c: prince captain hamin of hise #s: lyory #s: lyirate #🐝's post #my quotes #7kpp quotes

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queen-scribbles · 3 years

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I love when I look at romance guides after having completed that romance and discover I completely by accident hit pretty much everything--even tricky spots, where only one choice is correct--right in one that’s apparently hard.

#queen rambles #people: does yacov always break up with you? me: yacov can break up with you???#that's a neat detail--that the relationship isn't a guarantee--but annelise did things like 85-90% right with me going in blind #(i did that with lyon in 7kpp too #he's apparently one of the hardest ro's to get and jei got him easy as breathing)

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awaylaughing · 2 months

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Glance, motion, and formal for Pippa? :D

Thank you! For Pippa, my lovely 7KPP Corval Lady. This got long, because Pippa and clothing is a Thing haha.

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC’s appearance? What’s their distinguishing feature?

In order, it's; Hair, short, very smiley.

The hair is down to a combination of factors, the main one being the style in Corval at the moment is long, loose hair across the genders. Pippa has a lot of hair as a result, and it's very curly and a bright strawberry blonde that invariably draws attention. Even when it is up, as a deference to practical factors or because she just feels like having a fancy updo today, her hair is vibrant enough and a unique enough colour and texture to be noticed.

The shortness speaks for itself, Pippa is under five feet tall, but is brightly coloured so she's hard to miss which just makes the fact she's all the way down there all the more obvious (Pippa talking to Lyon is always hilarious from the outside perspective).

Lastly, very smiley. Lady Pippa is a very nice girl, most people will agree. She's beautiful with a beautiful smile but the more attentive will notice it's basically always there. This is not entirely a mask, Pippa is a fairly happy individual who's natural inclination is to smile in most situations. But Pippa also wears her charming nature and natural beauty like an armour, people do not inherently take a small, very feminine, very charming and beautiful woman seriously. This is annoying, but it's also useful.

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

There's a surprising economy of motion to Pippa. She's not much of a hands talker in the traditional sense, but she always has a fan on her and she gestures with it quite often. She's purposeful about it, and she's very purposeful in other motion to. She's not effortlessly gliding around, but she's not remotely clumsy and she is quite coordinated, so it's very rare to see her stumble. In general, she's good at giving the impression of being in motion without actually expending much energy. Another part of her "don't mind me I'm just a human parakeet" camouflage. formal: What’s your OC’s formal look? Do they like dressing up? Do they have different looks for different occasions?

Modern fashions in the Inner Court rather demand one be, if not fashionable, at least armed with quite a lot of clothing. The general rules means that even when she's being casual, Pippa looks fairly formal or at least polished next to many people's definition. As it stands however, Pippa's very sartorially inclined and not remotely embarrassed by this fact.

Currently, the fashion for noble women happens to align with the more common fashions in day wear. A blouse and a skirt, and a shawl, are all part of the fashion. Arlish influence from Princess Constance is where they diverge and means the skirt and shawl are fabulously complicated at the moment, as the skirt is split so you must have beautiful petticoats, a beautiful skirt and a shawl that goes with both. And a maid who can make sure all three are visible at once. In a pinch, at least until Sayra and Ria really master the draping (I'm sure they're no slouches on day one) Pippa can do her own draping. The skirts are quite full, but Wellin has introduced the world to the cage Crinolin and in Corval, it's very new but Pippa is both a proper fashionista and a fan of not having to wear mountains of fabric if she doesn't have to.

Her evening wear is more likely to be a single dress back in Corval, but at the Summit having pieces she can mix-and-match maximizes her ability to not rewear items so she might have opted to continue with her day wear model. In Corval, you can kind of do either but the Inner Court favours a full dress because Princess Constance favours a full dress, as does the Empress but she is admittedly not a fashion icon these days. At night too, the shawl is less utilized but Pippa's mother comes from a culture that uses the shawl very heavily in their fashion, so you never see Pippa without one, though the limits of packing mean she could only bring so many heavily embroidered, 2 meter long bolts of fabric with her haha.

Heavy makeup isn't really in fashion in Corval, other than the use of kohl which is older than the nation, and Pippa doesn't like to have a lot of things on her face honestly. Jewellery on the other hand very much is important, Pippa's not quite wealthy enough she can absolutely drape herself in jewels but her mother's dowry was saffron fields so, she does alright.

Shoes are her one sticking point, Pippa's not a huge fan of shoes so she doesn't have much of a collection, but she has enough she'll never let her outfits down.

#pippa of corval #pippa's femininity is both entirely honest and deeply preformative #she LIKES all that stuff and would do it regardless #and she's enough of a fashionista back home she can break minor rules and break them she DOES #since in fashion if you are on trend you're late #but she's not one of the fashionistas who causes a scandal #she's not THAT daring #also she's not stat wise graceful from the word go but i opt to ignore that as a constraints of needing to Win lol

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mendedwings · 4 years

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Tipping Point

Happy holidays, @quilleth! I got you for @fyeah7kpp Secret Santa, and much as I love all your girls, well, far be it from me to pass up a chance at writing my favorite antisocial bookworm. :D I guess this would somewhere week 3? Before the matches are set but far enough for there to be feelings and pining and the whole nine yards.

----

There was a moment where Alvida genuinely feared the teetering stack of books would tilt too far and tumble to the floor. Uncertain she’d noticed in time to prevent disaster, she nonetheless made a rather undignified lurch forward and managed to get a steadying hand against the tomes just before they reached the tipping point. She sighed in relief as she shifted the stack to firmer footing, her lips quirked in a private, wry smile. I do have a reputation of being over-ambitious.

The thought occurred, with something that could almost be called humor, that the book stack did actually make a rather fitting metaphor for her life. A pile of interests and goals, one askew atop another, balanced perilously close to ruin, and her forced to desperate lengths to keep it from falling apart.

Alvida smoothed the front of her blouse, then straightened the stack of books. Sitting on the not-quite waist high desk it came almost to her chin. This was going to be tricky.

You could always put a couple back for later, a little voice prodded.

But I don’t want to, Alvida retorted silently. She had a lot of free time on her hands this week, she could get quite a bit of reading done. (and if she was, in part, trying to delay thinking about certain important decisions, well, that was only because she was trying to get her heart and head to agree before making them.) She brushed her fingertips up the spines, double-checking the titles. All of them covered topics she and Lyon had talked about when last they met, a conversation as comfortable as it was challenging. While she’d mostly managed to keep up with him, it had shown some gaps in her knowledge she wanted to fill. Also, there were a few subjects where Lyon’s passion--quiet as it was, it was still obvious--had inspired her to read more about them. Hence, the stack of books half her own height that she needed to get back to her room.

Somehow.

Perhaps she was, for once, being overly ambitious. But she really wanted to do this in one trip. It lessened the odds of encountering someone like Princess Gisette or, heaven forbid, Lord Blain in the hallway.

Biting her lip in concentration, Alvida started wiggling the now-even stack closer to the edge of the desk so she could get her hands under it. She let out a quiet grunt and stumbled back a step when the full weight of the books settled against her chest. She steadied herself, took a deep breath, and turned to start off.

Only to all but run into the aforementioned duke after just a couple steps.

Coming to the abrupt stop required to avoid a collision set Alvida teetering backward under the weight of her books again. Lyon’s hand started to rise, as if intending to grab her arm, but she stepped back, caught her balance before he completed the motion. The stack of book started tipping dangerously forward, however, and Lyon steadied them instead.

“Sorry,” Alvida murmured, fingers curling around the bottom edge of the stack. “I didn’t see you there.”

One side of Lyon’s mouth twitched ever so faintly, so much so she wondered if she imagined it. He took in the daunting pile of books in her arms, quickly reading the titles as he went. “...Where were you going with all of these?”

“Back to my room.” She shifted her grip and swayed a bit in the process. “I have quite a bit of free time, and I wanted to have peace and quiet, to better focus.” A small smile curved her lips. “Unless you’d like to help me make another book fort in here?”

Lyon hesitated for long enough to actually be considering it before shaking his head. (Reluctantly? It looked reluctant to her, but maybe she was seeing things.) “Can’t. General Falon wanted to talk to me.” He ran another look over the tomes weighing down Alvida’s waifish form, then without preamble took the top two thirds of the stack he’d helped steady and shifted to his own arms. “...but I can walk you back to your room.”

“Oh.” OH. Alvida fumbled for a moment, flustered by the unexpected but very welcome offer, as well as the significantly lessened weight. “Thank you.”

Lyon shrugged, seeming unbothered by the weight he now carried. “It’s good you want to learn more.” He paused, as if weighing whether to say his next words. “Even if you seemed well-versed when we spoke.”

She ducked her head to hide her warming cheeks at the compliment, wishing she still had the stack of books to hide behind. “You’re just being kind-”

“No,” he cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t say things unless they are, to the best of my knowledge, true.”

OH. “Well, thank you, then,” Alvida managed. “Our conversation showed I don’t have as good a grasp of some topics as...” You. “...as I could. And it inspired me to learn more.” You inspired me to learn more. She wasn’t sure what to do with that, if she was honest. Or the soft warmth it set humming oh-so-faintly in her chest.

“Always an admirable goal,” Lyon said, his tone neutral, but she was almost positive she caught one side of his mouth tipping toward a smile.

Silence fell between them after that as they walked through the halls. Lyon checked his stride to trail a half-step behind Alvida, so she could lead the way. She let the silence carry them half of the distance before she broke it.

“So, what does General Falon want to talk to you about?” she asked, shifting her grip on the books she still held. This was much more manageable, and she had to admit she likely would not have made it carrying the whole stack herself.

Even without looking, she sensed Lyon’s shrug. “Probably a reminder we’re here to form alliances. That I need to honor Jiyel. Scold me for spending time reading instead of fostering goodwill. Something like that.”

“Ah.” Alvida risked a look over her shoulder, which slowed her pace until he caught up to her. I suppose he wouldn’t approve of our book forts, then? “A speech you’ve heard before, I take it?” she asked instead.

“Many times.” His tone may have been neutral, but his eyes were not. “Whenever it’s felt I’m straying from my duty.”

Were she not carrying books, Alvida may have dared to reach over and pat his hand empathetically. She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed the option was denied. It might be too forward, but the temptation was still there. Still strong. “Ah, yes, the double-edged sword of duty. We’re well-acquainted.”

Lyon was quiet a long moment before giving a single, thoughtful nod that spoke volumes. “I suppose you are.”

“It makes a fine cloak for desperation,” she said with a grim smile, thinking of her family, and her not-at-all-subtle “friend”, “as well as a harsh whip when wielded by the wrong people.”

His only reply was a soft grunt that could just as easily be agreement or dissent, or even apathy, and the silence returned until they reached Alvida’s door.

“Here,” she said, fumbling the books to one hand so she could turn the knob. A wave of relief rolled through her chest when there was no sign of her maids or Jasper, but she brushed off deeper contemplation of why that was her first reaction. At least for now.

She and Lyon set the books down on her desk, and he turned to leave.

“Wait!” Alvida reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him, momentarily caught off-guard by how warm it was. “Um. Thank you,” she said, her thumb rubbing a soft, absent arc over the heel of his hand.

Lyon opened his mouth, hesitated, then pressed his lips together before giving a jerky nod and muttering, “Enjoy your books.”

Then he slipped free of her grasp and vanished down the hall. Just like the ghost other delegates compared him to, Alvida thought glibly.

She smiled and curled her hand in until her fingers rested against her palm, as if she could preserve the lingering warmth. But only for a moment before shaking her head and giving the books her full attention.

Jasper had cautioned she’d have important decisions to make this week. As she settled in with her first book--a treatise on Jiyelan cultural mores, by the look of it--Alvida dared hope that one of them, at least, wouldn’t be hard.

#my fic #widow/lyon #lyon #widow alvida #7kpp secret santa #7kpp

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coeurvrai · 4 years

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thanks for the reply, i really appreciate how much thought you put into your responses! what culture do you personally think corval is based on? (i have no idea what are corval-sounding names lol)

Aww, thank you!

I do think that Corval is based on the Ottoman Empire, like Aly has said!

I do feel like it’s hard sometimes to name characters because a lot of the names within the game are more fantasy-based/are made to vaguely sound like the cultures they’re supposed to evoke, rather than using names from the cultures.

In my opinion, Jiyel is a big example of this. Like Avalie’s name, which I feel is supposed to vaguely sound East Asian while being strongly Western.

In terms of Corval-sounding names, I struggle with this too, and in the end I feel like your best bet is to just go with Arabic and/or Persian names, since that seems to be the pattern with Corvali characters!

#anonymous #asks #7kpp #7kpp gift exchange #although there seems to be a vague pattern with jiyel names #as falon and lyon both have names ending with -on!#anyways that's getting off topic haha #partially that's why i haven't really fleshed out my other mcs #i struggle coming up with names lmfaoooo

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faejilly · 4 years

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pique

idk, ending the year with all the bits and bobs of 7kpp feels that I never quite got out there during Fictober, thanks to returning to work. Have Lady Hanako of Jiyel and General Falon. (We’re on a chaperones kick! Now I just need to manage something with Jaslen... 🤣)

Lady Hanako was inclined to feel some sympathy for General Falon.

She met him briefly before he departed for the Isle, leaving before the delegates themselves to prepare with the other Chaperones. He’d introduced himself, a stiff bow and a hint of a frown in his eyes, and she’d barely refrained from apologizing for her existence rather than introducing herself in turn. (But she wasn’t what any of them had planned for, and she knew exactly how little her people liked having their plans disrupted. She wasn’t thrilled by it either, after all.)

As a Chaperone he was supposed to be unbiased, to assist all the delegates. In theory, at least. In practice he was, of course, expected to aid Jiyel to the best of his ability, and Hana didn’t envy him that balancing act.

Especially not considering who he had to work with: Duke Lyon, whose disdain for the proceedings could be seen from the far side of the Corvali deserts, Lady Avalie, who was sharp enough to cut the rest of them to ribbons without getting a drop of blood on the toes of her very nice shoes, and herself, entirely unprepared and unexpected, with a title that was a bare courtesy, and very little of the usual expected training.

She hoped the other four delegates, who’d mostly avoided her on the voyage over as if afraid her own lack of preparation would somehow taint their own plans with her presumed incompetence, would refrain from causing any other problems for the General and Jiyel.

That inclination toward sympathy died at the Welcome Feast, when the General managed to somehow look down his nose at her and avoid her eyes at the same time and she realized he was already planning how to make the disastrous mistakes he expected of her not reflect back on him. Not a glimmer of intent to help the last minute addition could be seen in his expression or his posture; he was perhaps even better at long-distance disdain than Lyon.

He’d already decided that she wasn’t worth the effort.

She barely refrained from stomping her foot and pouting, but she supposed that would just prove him right. She swept right past him, and greeted Princess Jaslen instead.

She was going to prove him so wrong, he was going to regret his behavior for years.

Decades!

At least.

#7kpp #jilly writes #lady hanako of jiyel #general falon of jiyel #not fictober #it was originally supposed to be the rehearse prompt #with hana thinking about what she was going to say #over and over #before the feast #but instead she decided on #righteous annoyance!#which I have to admit is more in character #He does apologize later tho #he didn't mean to be a dick #his job just really really sucks #*laughs*#can you imagine trying to wrangle lyon & avalie #without making it obvious that that was what you were doing?#IMPOSSIBLE

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angstmongertina · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday Results/Sentences

Aaand the poll is over! Thank you to everyone who voted! I adore you and my muse hates you. :P

Accountability sentences (and copied/new fic premises) under the cut! Since not everything got a vote this time, I'll be skipping the ones that didn't get any votes.

Letters to Nadia – From a shared 7KPP ‘verse with @teaandinanity’s Valya where our characters’ kids decided they were in love with each other. (Supposed to be 1 sentence but shhhh it's fine.)

He shakes his head, regretting it a moment later when the world swirls precariously around him, but the image of Nadia, her face set in that perfectly polite smile he knows hides disapproval and genuine hurt, continues to swim before his eyes. Genuine hurt caused by him. Then again, that’s still better than the alternative. He can handle hurt. Hurt is better than fear. Or, at least, that’s what he’ll have to convince himself of.

forever i’m yours, forever i do – A retelling of Artem’s second anniversary card that started as just an attempt to write out the smut and that VERY MUCH grew out of control HELP (3 sentences, but I added an extra just 'cause.)

To distract himself, he glances to the side, where Jeremy is fidgeting with his cufflinks, but before he can do anything more than offer a sympathetic look, the music swells with the familiar strain of Pachelbel, and he stiffens, straightening as a sudden hush falls over the audience. He’s supposed to be watching Celestine. He knows this. He hears the crowd murmur as she steps into view, feels the sharp inhale from the man beside him as he lays eyes on his bride, and yet he barely even notices, because all he can see, all he knows, is her.

Homecoming – For the CoG story Teahouse of the Gods, because the A'Li romance was right up my alley. Continuing the angstier version. (1 sentence)

She’s the first one to break the sudden stillness, words falling out of her mouth before she can even think about them: “You haven’t changed.”

Oh Brother – Again from the shared 7KPP 'verse mentioned above, Thomas’ little sister’s version of what happened. (3 sentences turned into three paragraphs OH WELL)

“Doesn’t know everything about her either.” His voice is unusually soft, one might even say hesitant, and Iris turns to find him with an odd expression in his eyes, though the next moment, it’s hidden under his typical teasing grin. “Sorry, you’ll have to find another source of information for your gossip.” “Ugh, what good are you, then?” Aster grumbles, but there’s a satisfaction in their mannerism that means they’ve already achieved what they intended to. Though the jury is still out on whether or not it’s actually helpful.

Spiral Point – More 7KPP because the brainrot is real, but this time for Camyon’s childhood friends AU. Here is more of their first interaction at the Summit, when neither of them actually recognize the other. :D (1 sentence)

Those sharp dark eyes were still fixed on her, however, and she realized belatedly that she was staring. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

Dinghun Zhou – CinderLia! In an alternate universe in which there is no Summit, but there’s still an event to try and find a wife for the perpetually single Duke Lyon. (2 sentences)

She raised an eyebrow and the man gave a sheepish smile. “He did inform me I was not to return until I was certain I could bring back an acceptance from you.”

King's Gambit – Fic for Gilded Shadow I started ages ago and never finished. Because Lance's route sniped me REALLY hard. Ari? Saw that coming. Caissa? Not terribly surprising. But LANCE????? (3 sentences)

She was, as he had already identified, a star student, and her focus on her exam, her little oasis in the chaos swirling just outside of her visual range, made it relatively easy to monitor her well-being. Until suddenly it wasn’t. It all happened so quickly, he nearly missed it.

That Which Binds Us – Also an ooooold old fic, this time for Fire Emblem Awakening and Chrobin. Because I had Ideas about what was happening in the background of the first half of the game, but I am terrible at multichapter things. (2 sentences but I cheated one more time.)

The concern softened into faint amusement, though she kept her thoughts to herself as she smiled. “I was just wondering if that was all, but maybe we should just say it is. We need our leader focused and alert, after all.” He shook his head with a rueful grin.

Much cheating was done in terms of making things longer than requested, but hey, better that than shorter! Thank you if you read them all!

#Tina rambles.#Tina liveblogs her writing struggles.#WIP Wednesday

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quilleth · 5 years

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7kpp Secret Santa 2k19

I’m terrible at titles, sorry!

Happy holidays @teaandinanity !! I was your secret Santa for this year’s 7kpp exchange by @fyeah7kpp!

I hope you don’t mind that I played with how the banquet goes in canon with your Valeriya and Lyon too terribly much! It was a delight working on something for them, even if they only make a small appearance!

When he had told Lyon he needed to get married, she had not been whom General Falon had in mind. One of the nice quiet Arlish ladies would, of course, been ideal, what with the relations between Arland and Jiyel being less than perfectly amiable, but one from Wellin or even Corval would have been acceptable. The only place more chaotic than Revaire, so far as Falon was concerned, was Hise, and even then, he thought Lyon might have found at least one suitable young lady with whom to ally himself. But no, Lyon had settled on the Revairan lady who, if rumors were to be believed, quite possibly murdered her last husband. The fact that she even had a first husband should have been enough to make her ineligible to attend the Summit; yet there she was, making her way amongst the other delegates with a determined smile. True, Lady Valeriya was currently endowed with a decent fortune in titles and land from said first marriage, as well as a pretty face, but Falon was certain that neither mattered at all to Lyon. Which meant, Falon surmised, sipping idly at his brandy, that something about her character and personality must have induced Lyon into the match, as incongruous as that seemed.

“And just what has put you in such a contemplative mood this evening my dear general? If you keep frowning like that you’ll give yourself much more wrinkles you know.” Princess Jaslen snapped him out of his thoughts by thwacking him on the arm with her folded fan. She smiled at him, mischief glittering in her eyes.

“I was simply observing some of the delegates,” he replied, moving his arm deliberately out of fan reach.

Jaslen laughed. “Oh, pray tell which ones? They’ve proven to be such an interesting lot this year; I can understand the wish to observe them better, despite all your earlier protestations and abhorrence of drama.”

“Duke Lyon and Lady Valeriya, if you must know, though I fail to see why that should interest you so much as neither are from your country.”

Her smile, if anything, grew even wider. “Well that is where you are mistaken! True, neither are from Corval,” she said sounding almost disappointed. “But Lady Valeriya has proven herself to be a very intriguing, capable young lady, and her match with your duke is certainly a fortuitous one. But not, I’d warrant her best prospects!” When Falon bristled, she laughed, adding, “Oh no offense to your genius duke, but he’s not the most social, now is he. And I simply meant that Lady Valeriya seemed to have a close relationship with Prince Lisle, and a prince is certainly a better marital prospect than a duke, you know. It’s all so peculiar! Why would she choose to set her cap at a mere duke when she could eventually have been a queen? Silly girl!”

“And what of the prospects for Duke Lyon? The chit was married already once before, that in itself is bad enough, and does not reflect particularly well either on her or Revaire for sending her. Then there are all those rumors that she murdered that husband, which makes her even less suitable for any match here, let alone one with a highly ranked duke.”

“Psha, darling, everyone knows rumors aren’t always reliable, when they’re so easy to start! Though it is such a strongly held one. Don’t they even have some silly nickname for her about it? Vixen or viper or something like that?” Jaslen’s eyes gleamed with a delight and energy they rarely —or never—held when she was usually talking to General Falon.

He blinked at her, disapproving for a moment before retorting, “Some of us are not so delighted by scandalous intrigues as to be in the habit of remembering silly animal related nicknames ascribed to potential murderesses, particularly when said women plan on marrying into one’s country.”

She tittered, “You might make it your business if you were from Corval and not Jiyel, General.”

“I fail to see how that could possibly be relevant when you could simply refer to people by their given names.”

“Of course you don’t,” Jaslen sighed. “Still,” she added, eyes roaming over the delegates that remained in case someone else caught her attention, “Only time will tell really. It still needs to be approved by the ambassadors and who knows how they’ll see things. Ooh, now what are those Hise delegates getting up to?!” She leaned forward in her chair to watch a group of the delegates from Hise and some others, apparently trying to smuggle a bottle of something either in or out of the banquet hall.

Across the hall, Lyon was scowling as he carefully considered his new—fiancée? Were they formally engaged or did that come after ambassador approval? No one had ever really explained how this would work, or if they had, he’d tuned them out. Valeriya had come along counter to all of his plans and assertions—and her question. “Hating to be…a spectacle is not the same as…”

“Hating me?”

“I…don’t regret it. I would have regretted it much more if it were someone else’s name being matched with yours.”

She didn’t quite beam at him in response, but she did smile in a way that Lyon was sure he would learn to know very well. “Yes, well, we appear to be a particularly interesting spectacle to our chaperones. What do you suppose they are saying about us, up on their lofty perch?”

Lyon followed her gaze and groaned. General Falon and Princess Jaslen were watching them with avid interest. “I’m sure I don’t want to know. Whatever it is, General Falon can hardly be annoyed with me now that I’ve done what he wanted and…well, chosen a match.” He diverted his gaze, scowling as heat spread over his cheeks.

Valeriya laughed, “I’m assuming it has more to do with your choice of the woman who murdered her first husband as a partner.”

“But you didn’t,” Lyon, meeting her gaze, stated, in some consternation.

“No, I did not.”

“I know. But—” He broke off,distracted and flustered by the soft smile Valeriya was giving him again and the heat creeping over his face, and, fairly certain that he might say something, not precisely stupid, but certainly embarrassing, in public. “I have to go,” he added, before scurrying away.

Falon, nearly empty brandy still in hand and finally left in peace, Jaslen distracted by the booze smuggling pirates, continued to watch as Lyon darted out of the hall with precipitate haste, Valeriya accepting the well wishes of some of the remaining delegates with an almost beatific smile. Hiding a grin behind finishing off his drink, he reflected, that although the match might not have been what he’d consider entirely suitable, he was fairly certain Lyon had almost smiled during his conversation with Valeriya, and given how rare it was to see, that was good enough approbation for him.

#7kpp secret santa #7kpp secret santa 2019 #7kpp #duke lyon #other people's ocs #duke lyon/ mc #quilleth writes #i've been nitpicking at editing and formatting this and need to stop lol #this was fun to write!

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