balteren

[balteren]

Max nodded, leaning against the wall, relieving some pressure from his feet. He could empathize with a general wariness towards marriage. Ironic, of course, considering the little ring box that sat in the pocket of his coat. He’d been waiting for the right time to propose to Midori, but there was always something that swayed him away from making the leap. Was it fear she’d say no, or a wider intuition? He couldn’t be sure. “There’s always the possibility of happiness in marriage, even if it is born from political strategy rather instead of love.” It was an attempt to reassure her, even if it wasn’t very convincing. “But if you’d prefer not to be haunted by the concept for a few moments, I’d be more than happy to offer a distraction.” Max took a look around the room for any ideas, but fell short. Everything was, somehow, a reminder that they were at a betrothal ceremony. “A walk around the gardens, perhaps?” 

" it truly is, the flowers are beautiful and they've outdone themselves. " the princess mused just as concerned words came from the viscount. she looked a little puzzled, surprised it was noticed by someone; let alone someone who held distain for her family's royal blood. " oh, i think perhaps just a little . . forlorn. this betrothal party had me thinking . . . of such things in my life. how much i dread it. " aurora said with a soft laugh. it was true, had always been such. aurora feared being betrothed and now so more then ever. " i truly appreciate the concern, viscount. the last thing i want is for people to worry over me, so i suppose i need to perk up a bit. " she jested, though in a way, aurora meant it.

[balteren]

“Not the only avenue, though such an aversion does indicate a wider lack of appreciation towards natural beauty.” A new glimmer had taken hold of Winifred’s gaze as she spoke. She never would have guessed it from the outset, but she was charmed by the commander’s willingness to entertain her taunting. A relief, when she considered the other reactions a man with such a large blade attached to his hip might have- especially in the tense times they were living in. Winifred turned back to the stand to retrieve her quentão, content in her amusement. “I am enjoying myself quite a bit, though I have rarely been to a party I haven’t enjoyed for at least a few hours. Even at a dull event, it’s easy enough to make entertainment for oneself.” She took a sip of the spiced wine. “And are you here for work or pleasure? I assume I’m not distracting you from some important work. You don't seem the type to abandon your duties.”  

his chuckle  lingered  between  a  genuine  laugh and a scoff.   ❝ depends on the bird. some of them screech rather than sing. ❞   and those he'd rather shoot down with an arrow than have to endure them grating on his ears. birds of prey were a different matter, but he knew those weren't what the lady was referring to. eyes narrowed when she used his correct title. his attire and the sword strapped to his belt made an inference that he was a soldier expected but she must be observing him beyond that.   ❝ i didn't realize flowers were the only avenue one could admire earth's beauty, ❞   he retorted, his tone mirroring hers.   ❝ ut i am capable of enjoying the festival. are you? ❞

[balteren]

Most of Papango’s waking hours were spent in the library, pouring over some old, dusty texts  or chronicling whatever the Malagasy court had experienced the day before. But following the pre-tribunal, their hands became far busier, and it was a race against time to ensure everything was properly accounted before memory began twisting the events into something they weren’t- if it hadn’t already happened. Papango had hardly processed the days themself, and the words they wrote hardly felt like something they experienced, and more like they were recounting the plot of a book they’d read. 

Their hands were cramped around the pen, and the cuffs of their sleeves had been pushed up to their elbows to avoid adding more ink stains. The person at the window hadn’t even registered in their mind until they spoke to them. Papango’s head shot up at the familiar voice, and a breath caught in their throat. “I’ve noticed.” They said, their voice dry and cracked after hours of silence. “The urge to be somewhere quiet and serene is understandable, though I do miss the privacy I used to find here.” 

open starter -> accepting replies (capping at 3!)

justice had not been served. in all the chaos that had befallen the shambles of a pre-tribunal, not once did the crimes against thailand seem to hold any sort of importance... yet again. thanin could not deny the lingering sense of irritation - frustration that built and simmered and threatened to spoil && poison the heart. perhaps this was for the best, the king tried to encourage himself bleakly, sat by a window since the curfew hour had already passed. eyes gazed outside, feeling trapped, feeling a little bit afraid.

no matter where anyone went, it seemed, chaos followed. hard to think home was any safer - where his people he doubted him, whispered of revolutions, barely slated. all he could hope to do was watch && learn, and not make any mistakes. his anger, his loss, was not important than the survival of his kingdom. eyes rose from where they peered out the foggy pane into the lawn below, and a clipped greeting was given to the other in the library. " more crowded here, than usual, in the evenings now, with the doors locked tight. "

[balteren]

She let her gaze linger on his face for a moment, trying to gauge where his head was, trying to gauge where her head was. “I’m still deciding where my hopes lie. It’s not as if you’d destabilize the region, leaving Spain scrambling to find the next Bonaparte heir.” Winnie was toeing a line, testing boundaries, seeing how quick he might be to anger. “Not when there’s a perfectly acceptable alternative to the south.” 

Winifred lazily twirled the contents of her cup, watching the deep red of the wine swirl and crash against the sides. She was finally feeling some effect from the quick disposal of her previous drink, and her head was buzzing in a somewhat pleasant way. “Certainly not,” she said, a strange mixture of a scoff and a laugh escaping her. “I’ve never been easy on anyone. You know that better than most.” She brought the cup to her lips, taking a modest sip in some attempt at moderation. “But I can’t promise I’ll be this civil in the future. Once I’ve stopped feeling bad for you.”

"When has it ever stopped at one last word with you?" It's inevitable that he should default to it - the snark, the grating remarks. Winnie liked him for many things, long ago, but his combative personality was never high on the list. Sighing, he watches with copious envy as the glass is delivered. Only for his to remain dry, with a ghost of red on the rim. "I would've thought you would be the first to root for my quick and ineffective reign." Such was the pettiness of a broken heart. But Elliott nods, short and understanding. Whatever happened between them - it did not stop her from coming here.

"Thank you." He follows up, after a beat. A shared look; history and present appreciation, coiled into one. "I doubt this means you'll take it easy on me the next time we see each other?" His mind, clouded in liquor, already thinking of what's next. And what better place to start, than Cardiff and its impressive resources.

[balteren]

“Is that what I’m doing, Countess? Standing for nothing?” Her words were sharp, pointed. It was obvious that Araminta’s words had hit a sensitive spot. Winifred took a deep, collecting breath, wishing she’d kept her words closer to her chest, left the information at her desire to stand in the surf. Her irritation was now a snarling beast in her stomach, but a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her to keep her head. The conversation, while personal, had political implications. The silence hung for a bit while she reeled herself in. “The road ahead only becomes more dangerous if it’s littered with broken glass.” The clouds on the horizon continued to gather- a rather poetic parallel to the state of the world. “The time will likely come for risky decisions, but I refuse to sacrifice Cardiff’s stability until I have reason to do so.” She sighed, her hands fidgeting with the skirts bundled in her arms. Her next words were calmer, gentler. “I’m not staying idle, Ara. I’m biding my time, keeping my eyes open, seeing where the chips fall. When the times comes, we will be ready to act.”

"The things a woman does for a friend." Or more specifically, a business prospect. But what kind of saleswoman would she be, if she relented that so earnestly? Instead, she bides her time, listening to the young Queen with apt interest. So that is Winnie's plan then - the waiting game. "You know, your brother was the same way. He put Cardiff first, as any honorable leader should." Araminta knows, of course, that it wasn't the case. Carwyn was like her - a greed for wealth, a lust for power. But Winifred needn't know that yet. "I am happy to hear you plan to carry on his tradition. Though, might I suggest, as one seasoned ruler to another-" Because what are the Medici's, if not the true power of Florence? "Move fast and break things. Standing for nothing is not sustainable forever."

[balteren]

Nell stopped short, a lone glove in her hand. "Apologies, Tsarina." They curtseyed before continuing any further, keeping their eyes low. "I found this glove on the floor in the hall, and I thought I recognized it as yours." A remnant of their days as a lady-in-waiting, paying such close attention to the small details and accessories of other's outfits.

open starter: ( 0 / ? )

the tea remains untouched. tsarina stares ahead, a quiet stillness rendering her frozen. only another's approach finally shifts her frame. "what is it you need? be quick with it."

[balteren]

“I’m not sure I follow,” she said, ceding a laugh and maintaining a smile, but narrowing her eyes slightly. It was an odd existence, enjoying the sparkling light of another’s attention but clamming up under the threat of being truly seen. “If there’s anything about me you’re struggling to understand, I invite you to ask.” Andromeda was doing her best to seem open, knowing full well she would likely lie if the Prime Minister asked a question that was even slightly personal. 

“I suppose we’re all tangled together in more ways than we’d would like to admit.” She sighed as Nicolette spoke, feeling a bit more resigned than before. For months after she was found, she had no intention whatsoever of getting involved in politics. She wanted to remain unburdened by its complexities, preferring to contribute in a more ceremonial sense. She wasn't thrilled about being forced into such a deeply political world, now. “Unfortunately we are revealed, but our enemies are still quite masked. And that’s not to mention the petty disagreements amongst ourselves. If some kingdoms could actually put their interpersonal drama to the side, we might go home a bit sooner.” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Wishful thinking, I know.”

Nicolette shook her head laughing, "Now that would be very silly of me, to lose someone I respect who is in a position of power. Besides, I am yet to fully figure you out, and I hate to leave a puzzle unfinished." Nicolette smiled, her tone teasing, "never the less, if you did wish to disappear for the odd vagabonding every now and again, I would not betray your secret."

She smirks slightly at the mention of her political mind. It would be good, if other nations saw her as the political face of France, and not the Orleans. "I am not sure remaining in our corners is an option any longer. We have all revealed ourselves, the dark forest is bathed in sunlight and we are out of places to hide. Perhaps it is different for different nations, but France must be involved as the world attempts to unite."

[balteren]

time skip- a few days after the pre-tribunal

After a few days of hiding away in her room, Andromeda had taken the afternoon to go on a ride and clear her mind. It had a profoundly helpful effect, until a bird flying out of a bush spooked her mare, sending her flying into a puddle of mud and sending the horse galloping away. It hadn’t taken long to find her horse, but by the time she tracked her down, she was horribly lost. It was nearly curfew by the time she made it back into the palace, and her heart fell when a nearby clock struck 10. She was still so far from the Ethiopian apartments... but the German apartments were around the corner. It would be a risk to knock on their door after curfew, but it’d be a bigger risk to continue to her apartments- especially in her muddy, disheveled state. When she worked up the courage, she was shocked when she was actually allowed in, and was even more shocked to see Stefan in the sitting room. “I apologize for the late hour, I’ve just found myself too far from home.” She was deeply embarrassed to be seen in the state she was in, and she was sure her nervous energy radiated throughout the room. “I need to borrow one of your guards. To escort me to my apartments.”

normally, he  would've  extended  a  charming  smile to the other women around the princess, but he made a point of not sparing them a glance. his eyes were for andromeda alone. hopefully those she'd been speaking to would include that in the gossip they inevitably spread. her hand now in his, he led them toward the center of the ballroom.   ❝ and people say gossip as no purpose, ❞   he quietly replied, smiling. as the first note of the song began, stefan wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her close, while his other hand remained holding hers and began leading them through the dance steps.   ❝ and if they're too shocked to speak, surely my refusal to dance with anyone else tonight will be noticeable. ❞

[balteren]

The crowd behind them had begun to disperse as the began to settle into a less ferocious, entertaining state. The streets were growing busier and louder, and Lorenzo was suddenly grateful that he decided to follow her. “Both have their charms, but I can promise the lodging is far more comfortable in the palace than in any navy ship. But nothing beats the night sky when you’re thousands of miles from shore.” As a wave retreated, his eyes landed on a shell that was the exact color of one of Giuliana’s favorite dresses. He reached down to grab it, pocketing it before he thought anyone would notice. 

“Don’t worry about being cheerful, especially if you would force it on yourself.” After a pause and a sigh, he responded with a hesitant, but serious tone. “Something terrible is in the air. I feel it too. But you’re betrothed to a very capable naval commander, and you're under the protection of China. You have far less to fear than others."

Meilin stepped into the water, leaning down to run her fingers through the receding waves. Eventually something interesting would pop up. "That sounds horrific," she sighed. "Months trapped on a ship with sweaty men. No offense," she said, in a tone that said she didn't particularly care if she was causing offense or not.

"What about this place? Is Rio de Janeiro more or less uncomfortable than the sea? I like it fine, I suppose," said Meilin. "But I miss Hong Kong terribly. And I always feel like something...bad is about to happen." She paused, slightly horrified at how morbid she was being. "Look at me," she said. "It would be more cheerful to watch them set things on fire."

[balteren]

It had been an unforgivable amount of time since Lorenzo had last seen his sister, something he actually felt bad about. When Angelo had found him, he’d mentioned the fact Lorenzo hadn’t made time for his “Emperor,” a statement that had only soured in his mind with time. It was a sharp contrast to Kai-ming’s greeting, and affection for his sister filled him as she floated towards him. 

“What could he do, exile me too?” It occurred to him too late that his words, however casual, might sting. “Angelo might throw a few harsh words my way, but there's no need to worry. I can take it.” Part of him hoped that Angelo might try to reprimand him, so that they might finally have it out on the subject of Kai-ming’s exile, but he had a sneaking suspicion they’d never see eye-to-eye on the matter, and any conversation would only serve to drive the brothers even further apart. Lorenzo glanced over at the vining flower she’d been drawing, then down at the sketchpad. “May I see what you’ve been drawing?” His voice was gentle, doting. 

° • — CLOSED starter for lorenzo ( @balteren ) ° • — outside in the gardens, midday

kai-ming had learned her lesson about venturing up on the mountain by herself, and on this rainy day — perhaps it was better she didn't worry the emperor by exploring outside palace gates. she was humming to herself as she sketched a flower that cascaded up the side of the palace.

when she heard footsteps, she turned to look at the culprit — kai-ming almost hated how her heart hoped it was xinyuan, but he had done well at avoiding her ever since their last conversation. instead, it was another familiar face. and the princess lit up with a smile. " gege! " she called out, closing up the book and skipping over with a smile. " oh, i didn't think — you won't get in trouble for talking to me will you? " the little princess asked carefully.

[balteren]

“This fire is a flickering candle compared to ours,” he agreed, a nostalgic smile on his face. Lorenzo was never one to indulge in drunken revelry, but he was always an active participant after a particularly brutal battle. Of course, the following morning was always a battle of similar intensity, but that was never given much thought on the night. “Though I sometimes wonder if those bonfires would seem even half as glorious without the delusional haze of exhaustion, adrenaline, liquor…” He didn’t need to go on. It was always nice to be around other soldiers, to commiserate on a shared experience that was so unique, only those who’d experienced it could possibly understand. “You’re right about the excessive drinking, though. Perhaps we should be recruiting new soldiers while we’re here, for entertainment on long sailing days if nothing else.” 

" It is nothing compared to a bonfire after a victory, there in there dredges themselves. " Though it felt a far away memory now, Tian Feng still know the feeling of a belly full not on a feast, but of the thrill of life itself - of feeling success, of triumph, of belonging to something bigger. That was all gathered to do - why the festival with it's vibrant displays and growing flames swirled about them. Soldiers understood why celebration mattered. " Though it would seem the drinking in as much excess as it would be at one of ours. " This being said, a smile slicked through Tian Feng's own sense of dry humor.

[balteren]

Lorenzo stared blankly at Angelo for a moment, but eventually shifted his gaze to some random point in the distance as he weighed his words. It seemed to be an honest effort at connection, but who could blame him for triple-guessing his brother’s words? “Does anyone have time for a bit of fun anymore?” He laughed, loosening his guard, but only as much as he could justify, which wasn’t much. It wouldn’t kill him to let Angelo in- for now, anyway. “I might save a trip for an emperor if you’ve seen one.”

It was a matter of time before conflict found its way to China again. Going a year without inserting themselves into an unnecessary war would be nice, but that was up to the Emperor. Unfortunately. “We’re not ready. Not yet.” He stretched his arms as he spoke, trying to stay loose. “Making any offensive moves before we have fully recovered from our war with Japan would be a mistake.” It was clear that Lorenzo had put quite a bit of thought into the state of the military, but he could only hope his words held weight in Angelo’s mind. “If war comes to us, our soldiers are itching to prove themselves, but I believe we’d struggle to win without outside support.”   

"Quicker than most." Quicker than me, he thinks, a self-conscious tightening of the grip around his jade-encrusted walking staff. He's meant to be the pillar of strength and might; the bolder, bigger, older brother. When, oh when, did he stop thinking of Lorenzo as a boy to protect and start seeing him as a man to fear? "It will come." He placates, ignoring the first of his words. "With time, with work. A few good meals. A bit of fun." he nudges, searching for that glimmer of closeness that once lived between brothers. Before the chasm began to grown and grow. "It could only do you some good."

"Because you have not come to see me." He answers, an edge of ego in his voice. "One would think you'd save an Emperor a trip, but alas... Here we are." A cruel irony sets in; in his experience, Lorenzo never thought well of Emperors. "I wanted to discuss this growing tension with Persia." Of his own making, but he digressed. "See just how ready we are if, when, it should take a turn."

[balteren]

Tension was always stored in Lorenzo’s jaw. Since he was a young boy, he was reprimanded for grinding his teeth at night, or clenching his teeth as his parents addressed him. The events of the pre-tribunal had created a tension so terrible that his head ached, and every effort made to release that tension was in vain, so it seemed. The sun had started to set, and it was only a few hours before curfew, but he was headed to the military yards for a brief, and likely intense workout when he passed Stefan. His jaw clenched tighter as the words hit. It seemed uncouth to be mocking him at such a vulnerable moment. “There is not a world where I would consider playing a game of cards with anyone you consider a gentleman.” His face was unmoved, stony, aside from the glimmer of irritation in his eyes and a vaguely furrowed brow. “Go play your terrible games with someone else.”

closed starter ›› lorenzo tolentino , @balteren

the evening  was  young  and  the  palace quiet. stefan assumed most had ventured to the festa junina for the large array of music that was being featured tonight around the bonfires. he walked in the opposite direction, toward one of the palace sitting rooms where he knew a group of nobles had agreed to arrange some card games for those who didn't wish to leave the palace. or rather, that was where he was headed, the room only a short ways down the hallway, until a faintly familiar figure walking in his direction caught his attention. stefan grinned.   ❝ well, look who it is. are you finally going to join us gentlemen for a game of cards again? ❞

[balteren]

Lorenzo took a closer look at Yaling, instantly recognizing the somewhat glazed look in her eyes. “The wine has gone to your head, clearly.” He said it with a smile and a laugh, despite it not really being a joke. “It’s somehow too large, but also not large enough. Like they couldn’t commit either way and tried to find a happy medium. It’s an outrage.” It was a nonsense answer, but it was a nonsense conversation at its core. “I’ve seen fires half the size that carry twice as much majesty than this one.” 

Even as he said it, Lorenzo was looking on in awe. The flames were only growing larger, and even from their distanced position, he could feel the heat radiating off of it. Pleasant on a cold day, maybe, but a bit much for a pleasantly cool afternoon. He turned and began walking, speaking over his shoulder. “I’m moving to the surf. You’re welcome to follow if you can walk without tipping over.” 

Yaling was drunk.

The result of too much wine, somehow so much easier to drink in its warm spiced form. Each cup washing over her like an embrace. Trying to avoid the potential of embarrassing herself she had stumbled down to the sea front. Settling in to watch attempts to light a bonfire upon the sand.

She jumped slightly at the sound of a voice next to her, "What a strange thing to boast about?" She said with a teasing smile. "I think it is absolutely marvelous." She sensed jest in his tone, but could not quite understand where. "What part of it is not meeting your standard? Not large enough? Too large?"

[balteren]

Andromeda considered Mal’s question, weighing the options with the same thoughtfulness one might employ when deciding if they should wage a war. Finally, she landed on a decision. A simple ask for their cooks, but it had always been one of her favorites. “Let’s bring doro wat.” She smiled at her decision, memories of cooking the dish in her own, small home filling her mind. “I used to make the most incredible doro wat, you know. On holidays, I’d make a big pot of it, and invite my neighbors and their children to dinner.” It was a rare mention of the life she’d had before, and possibly the first time she’d talked so openly about it with Mal. Upon that realization, she nearly clammed up, but instead, took a breath and carried on. “It might not be the best food for a beach, but I’m sure we can make do. If that's alright with you, of course.” 

seeing her  sister  in  law  more  at ease and then animated when ideas began being spoken quieted the worries that mal often felt for them. she was protective of all her in laws but andromeda had been gone for so long, living a life so different; malaika could only imagine how difficult the adjustment was.   ❝ that all sounds perfect, and i'd love to join you. ❞   she smiled warmly. the beach far preferable to the gardens.   ❝ what shall we ask the kitchens for? our cooks can prepare familiar dishes from home or we could sample some dishes from brazil? ❞   decision entirely placed in andromeda's hands; a rare instance for growing tensions made mal want to cling to even the smallest amount of control that she could.

[balteren]

time skip - a few hours after the sharma's release

Nell moved quickly through the halls, wanting desperately to make it back behind a closed door before anymore murders took place. She clutched a small bag, her knuckles white as she listened to the sounds of chaos around her. Even when it was perfectly quiet, you could hear the tension, the sound of the ground trembling under the weight of it. After the uproar in Scotland’s corner following the death of the Scottish soldier had settled, her immediate next thought was of Parvati.

“Princess.” Nell said breathlessly as she was let into the Sharma’s apartment. “I came as soon as I could. Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Going against protocol, Nell did not wait for an invitation before sitting in the chair near Parvati, placing her bag on the table between them. “I wasn’t sure what they’d let you have from the kitchens, and I couldn’t sneak up any of their chocolate drinks, so I brought you some akvavit, from home.” It was a small bottle of the spirit, something she’d stashed away for a special occasion. “It’s not pleasant, but frayed nerves hardly notice the taste.” 

the laughter  escaped  before  she  realized  it. eyes widened slightly as a hand rose to muffle the sound. she'd almost forgotten that such a joyful melody could belong to her.   ❝ they can be quite tiresome sometimes. is there a particular one you're avoiding? ❞   momentarily, she was able to forget where she stood, both physically and in time. her smile felt less strained, and when she caught her reflection in the water, there was a shine in her eyes. parvati back at nell quickly.   ❝ it is. i never was an avid traveler unless it was for diplomatic reasons. ❞   home had been most comfortable and unless rashmi had requested her presence, she'd preferred remaining there.    ❝ and you? ❞

[balteren]

“They very well may turn the tide, but we will fight against it. We’ve done it before, there’s no reason we can’t do it again.” It felt like he was begging as he said it, pleading for his words to be true. He wanted them to be true. Max took a look over his shoulder, looking at the crowd. A few attendees were casting lingering glances at them, and he began walking slowly in the other direction, hoping she’d understand and carry on walking beside him. 

“This is a desperate scramble to regain power and take revenge against some wayward assassins, nothing else.” It was certainly a simplification of events, but in the moment, it was the least of his concerns. “We need to remain upright. Show we can keep our heads as the world seems to crumble around us.” They’d walked further down the hall now, away from prying ears, and he stopped, turning to her. “You more than anyone. If there’s anyone in this world who cannot afford to show weakness, it is you.” His tone was soft and understanding, but still forceful. It was something he felt strongly about. “Everyone, from our enemies to our allies, will look to you and judge how well our true leader weathers these storms.” 

The more that was revealed, the more she feared. Names associated with her, or with her allies. Memories of what she had lost through this whole thing. Intrusive thoughts at the back of her mind - what if you are to blame? How dangerous had her words been? Through all those passionate speeches had she ever actually stopped to ask what their impact will be.

"It will only build, people will get caught up in the frenzy, and I suspect they will keep the best till last. End with an impact to ensure we all remember how terrible it all was." She raised a hand to her forehead, light pressure to try and ease the headache emerging. "It is always the way. Those in power write our stories, decide who is the hero, and who the villain. If they weave a strong enough story from this, perhaps they can turn the tide against us once more..."