balteren

[balteren]

closed starter with: nell and cailean (@tormxntum) setting: one hour into the welcome ball

She had never felt more like a stranger in a strange land, having been forced to abandon the styles and customs of her homeland, wandering amongst the Spanish halls, dancing Spanish dances, and dodging those she once called friends. Though Scotland had become a sanctuary for her, the permanence of her situation had yet to settle in, and even after a handful of months, she still found herself forgetting she was not on a trip, and that she would not be boarding a boat home to Germany. And now, forced away from even that familiarity, sources of comfort and safety were few and far between, and at the moment, none of them were in reach- except for them. 

Hands clasped behind her back, Nell floated over to Cailean, falling in place beside them on the wall of the ballroom. “I can’t seem to gather the courage to dance,” she mused, keeping her voice low, as if telling a secret. There was a light amusement in her tone, almost entirely covering any real fear she felt about the situation. “With so many enemies in Europe as it is, I’d hate to miss a step, or step on a toe, and make another in Spain.” With anyone else, she might not have managed a joke, but she’d known Cailean so long and trusted them so well, it felt natural to allow herself a moment of respite. 

[balteren]

{dev patel, 35, cismale, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, PRINCE KIRAN BHATI of THE MUGHAL EMPIRE! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are CONFIDENT and RATIONAL enough to handle it. Just don’t let your ARROGANCE bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out MONTHS BEFORE IT STARTED, YOU BEGAN HAVING DREAMS OF YOUR FAMILY TAKING POWER AFTER A GREAT CIVIL WAR- BUT NOW, YOU’VE STARTED DREAMING OF THE EMPIRE CRUMBLING UNDER ITS REIGN.

the basics

Full Name: prince kiran bhati Nicknames: keery, kir Faceclaim: dev patel Gender: cismale (he/him) Sexual Orientation: bisexual, biromantic Age: 35 Birthday: October 14 Occupation: prince Marital Status: single Pets:  tbd Loyalties: The Mughal Empire, The Bhatis (as of now) Positive traits: brave, disciplined, introspective, honorable, level-headed Negative traits: obsessive, cocky, martyr-complex, self-destructive

aesthetics

Inspiration: tbd Animal: stag Tarot Card: the moon Zodiac: libra Mineral: black moonstone Song: de selby (part 1) - hozier

what is known by the public

The new prince values harmony, balance, and justice above all else. He is amiable and social, but appreciates solitude and introspection. He spends a nearly identical amount of time in the training yards as he does in the library. He has a rational mind and a level-temper, though he does occasionally indulge in strong emotions, if the situation is appropriate. 

Recently, wandering the halls late at night, unable to sleep. He has a strange new obsession with the Gods and stories of heroes, but he’s always been precocious, so it’s probably nothing to worry about! 

backstory

Kiran has spent his thirty-five years in a state of awe at the universe around him. It was not contained to any one aspect- he was enthralled by the twinkling stars against the darkness, the shaking of leaves in the winds, the bugs under the rocks, the lizards on the fence posts. He might have been a great scientist, were it not for the weight of his family’s name.  

All things thrived in balance. Life balanced death, war balanced peace, great tragedy balanced great victory. Likewise, a powerful brain would never be fully served without a powerful body- so he spent great swaths of time training, learning how to defend and how to attack, and praying he’d become wise enough to know when to employ each skill. 

He’d often take to the forests, sleeping under the stars for days at a time, testing his survival skills and his hardiness- or so he said. It was more likely that he enjoyed the solitude, the peace, the feeling of being so deeply connected to the earth around him. 

A year before The Reckoning, he was out amongst nature, and a deer crossed the path before him. They locked eyes, an electric current ripped through him, and he was stunned for the briefest moment, frozen in place, only shaken out of it by the sight of a leopard in the tree line- crouched and preparing to strike the animal. Seized by a sense of protectiveness, he shot the leopard, standing horrified and breathless as he watched it fall. He had wrongfully intervened, cheated the natural cycle of its rightful balance. There would be a price. 

That is when the dreams began. 

Visions of civil war came to him every night, and in every one, he saw his family come out victorious, the crown of the Mughal Empire securely in their hands. They were easy enough to ignore, until moments he dreamed of months prior started to come to pass, ultimately ending just as the dreams had predicted. The Bhati family was victorious, and he became a prince. 

They ceased after the war ended. He could sleep without torment, close his eyes without accessing something that felt forbidden. Balance, once again. 

Recently, however, glimpses of a horrific future have begun to appear in his dreams. It’s the same every time- Kiran standing in a Lal Qila that has been swallowed by flames, a bloody crown at his feet, and an overwhelming sense that it was his family that made it come to pass. 

wanted connections

fellow insomniacs- he doesn’t sleep much anymore, so he has been trying to find ways to occupy his mind. this would be someone he’s slowly gotten close to over shared sleepless nights.  

hey r u ok man?- friends/acquaintances/advisors who have noticed that this balanced and rational man has become increasingly unbalanced and irrational. kiran has not let anyone into his mind, or told anyone of these dreams, so they are likely getting increasingly worried about him. 

more to come ! 

[balteren]

{luke thompson, 34, cismale, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, MINISTER OF DEFENSE MAXIMILIEN GAUTHIER of FRANCE! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are JOVIAL and DAUNTLESS enough to handle it. Just don’t let your RESTLESSNESS bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU DON’T BELIEVE THE REVOLUTION WENT FAR ENOUGH, AND ARE ACTIVELY WORKING TO UNDERMINE THE MONARCHY AND MAKE FRANCE A REPUBLIC. 

the basics

Full Name: maximilien gauthier Nicknames: max Faceclaim: luke thompson Gender: cismale (he/him) Sexual Orientation: bisexual, biromantic Age: 34 Birthday: jaunuary 11 Occupation: minister of defense Marital Status: single.............. Pets: a mutt named plumet Loyalties: the french people, the french rebellion Positive traits: passionate, charismatic, intelligent, principled, good-natured, ambitious Negative traits: stubborn, prone to over-indulging, loves to argue, restless, judgy, willing to do what is necessary for the revolution

aesthetics

Inspiration: courfeyrac (les miserables), tom wambsgams (succession), gale (baldurs gate 3), hamilton (hamilton) Animal: hound Tarot Card: the star Zodiac: aquarius Mineral: green tourmaline Song: chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers (live from sound city)

what is known by the public

Amongst the French, Max exists as something of a folk hero. He comes from incredibly humble beginnings, having grown up on a small farm outside of Lyon, rising quickly through the ranks of the revolutionary army, and eventually falling into his position as Minister of Defense- all the while, keeping the people forefront in his mind.

He is outspoken in his principles and a known supporter of revolution and democracy as a general concept. Due respect to other royals is given in half-measures, and he only holds his tongue when absolutely necessary.

backstory (brief parent death tw in first paragraph)

Maximilien was born unexpectedly and without warning. His parents were growing older, had almost raised two older children into adulthood, and assumed they were well past their childbearing years. A year later, both parents died tragically on their way to the markets in Lyon, leaving Max to be raised by his older brother and his wife.

It was on the farm that he learned to hunt- and he was an exceptionally good shot, always bringing home enough game for both his neighbors. It was a quiet life, full of long days in the fields, treks to Lyon with a cart of produce, cutting firewood, hunting, and reading thick, wordy books by the river.

Some time around his 27th birthday, Max could no longer ignore the restlessness that had been in his bones since birth, and announced to his family that he had received a scholarship and intended to study law and politics in Paris.

The scholarship did not cover much more than the bare minimum of his living expenses, and as his naiveté from his previous, simpler life crashed around him, he became deeply disillusioned. His politics grew more radical with every passing day, and after vaguely mentioning his frustration to a fellow classmate, he was invited to a small meeting of other radical thinkers. It was here that Maximilien became a revolutionary.

When the people of France finally began pushing back against the monarchy, he was at the center of the action. He was an incredibly good shot and was capable of keeping a clear head amidst the chaos, making him a valuable soldier. His tenacity, bravery, and talents in military strategy allowed him to shoot through the ranks.

The temporary measures put in place by the Orelans were preposterous to Max, and he questioned why it was acceptable to anyone who had risked their lives for a republic, to suddenly accept the monarchy- even in such a diminished position. Despite his objections, it became clear that many considered the fight over, and in the aftermath, he was appointed the Minister of Defense.

In his work as minister, he continues to work underground, stoking tensions, siphoning as much support to the remaining French rebels as he can. If he can help it, France will be a republic, and the Orleans will be forced out of any power they still hold. With the time he has left, he aids and advises other revolutionaries around the world, offering whatever assistance he can spare.

wanted connections

his niece- she was born two or three months after Max, and they were practically inseparable as children. Despite Max’s reservations about nobility, he wants to ensure his niece a stable, comfortable future, so he has invited her to join the French envoy in the hopes that she will secure a betrothal to someone who can take care of her. He’s likely a little overprotective, but only because he wants the best for her. Otherwise, this is a very supportive and positive relationship.

shares custody of the brain cell- max is incredibly smart, but you would never know it if you saw these two together. they are best friends, have been best friends for years, and get into so much bullshit together. have probably been in jail together once for public intoxication. almost certainly another french revolutionary, but im sure we could work something out! (0/1)

i hate you more than normal- he doesn't get along with any monarch, but he extra doesn't get along with them. it can range anywhere from tense to outright hostile, and would more than likely be with a monarch from an anti-revolutionary kingdom (but no one is safe from this anti-monarchist) (0/2)

unlikely friends- ok, maybe one person is safe from this anti-monarchist. he can't help but enjoy their company, and though they disagree on a very fundamental level, they get along great as long as they don't mention it. would be near-soulmate level friends if everything was equal between them, but it isn't. almost certainly from a country that supports revolution.

[balteren]

{arsema thomas, 28, cisfemale, she/her} We are so glad to see you safe, PRINCESS ANDROMEDA SOLOMAN of ETHIOPIA! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are CLEVER and PERCEPTIVE enough to handle it. Just don’t let your SELF-PRESERVATION bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE THE LOST PRINCESS RECENTLY RETURNED, BUT YOU LOST YOUR MEMORIES YEARS AGO AND AREN'T SURE IF YOU ARE AN IMPOSTER. 

the basics

Full Name: andromeda soloman Nicknames: dromy, formerly known as seble Faceclaim: arsema thomas Gender: cis-female (she/her) Sexual Orientation: bisexual, biromantic Age: 28 Birthday: july 7 Occupation: princess of ethiopia Marital Status: single Pets: an Arabian mare named salim Loyalties: herself, the ethiopian crown Positive traits: clever, perceptive, resilient, sentimental, down-to-earth, reserved Negative traits: self-preserving, cynical, secretive, manipulative, jealous

aesthetics

Inspiration: eponine (les miserables), dear evan (dear evan hansen), anastasia (anastasia), penelope (bridgerton) Animal: crow Tarot Card: the chariot Zodiac: cancer Mineral: green tourmaline Song: be - hozier

what is known by the public

Princess Andromeda disappeared 10 years ago and was assumed to be dead. There were still those among the Ethiopian court who held out hope for the lost princess, but very few still thought she'd ever return. The palace was overflowing with shock and joy when she was found in a far-flung village, though some wonder if she can still be trusted after so much time amongst the common people- especially with revolution on the lips of so many around the world.

Those who knew her before the disappearance likely feel a disconnect from the young princess they'd once known, but many chalk that up to a decade outside of court. Still, it often feels as though she doesn't recognize anyone, even those she'd been close to.

backstory

Andromeda woke in a strange, hot, stuffy room without any memory. She opened her eyes, head throbbing with pain, and no recollection of who she was or how she got there. The only items in the small room at the inn were a bundle of clothes, a small pouch with a large sum of money, and a little figurine of a crow. Upon exiting her room, she was promptly told by a grimy innkeeper that someone had been looking for her, and instinct told her to keep her head down, pick a direction, and run.

She walked for weeks, passing through towns and fields, waiting for any memory to come back to her. It wasn't until she stopped to rest her feet in a small church, in an even smaller village, that she opened up to a priest, who encouraged her to stay still for a while, to pick a new name, to allow the memories to return when they were ready. It was the first comfort she'd experienced in her memory, so she took a job as a church bookkeeper, picked the name Seble, and settled.

Her memories never did come back, but it stopped bothering her. After all, how can you miss a life you never knew? She grew to love her quiet life, even if it was uncomfortable at times, and after a few years, she married. It was only a few days after the wedding that she woke up to find the bed empty, and the small fortune she had woken up with years before missing, leaving Seble penniless, abandoned, and betrayed. The pay from her job kept her alive, but not enough to keep her out of extreme poverty.

An Ethiopian soldier, searching for the missing King, stopped her in the street one day, clearly in a state of disbelief. Seble brushed him off when he tolder her she was the spitting image of the lost princess, but was unable to brush off the Ethiopian officials that arrived at her door a week later. Once again, she was reduced to a scared girl with no identity, a bundle of clothes, and a little crow figurine. The officials declared that Princess Andromeda had been found, and she was dragged away to the Ethiopian palace. Seble was gone- she was now Andromeda.

Despite Andromeda's initial reservations, it became clear that this was a massive blessing. The Soloman family welcomed her with open arms, and she was showered with jewels and silks and all the riches she could ask for. Finally, she had a stable, comfortable home, and- most importantly- a family. Still, she can't shake the idea that she isn't the princess. Everyone tells her she looks exactly like she did before she went missing, but the young girl in the paintings is a stranger to her.

Even if she isn't the princess, Andromeda has no intention of losing her new life. She could never go back to the life she had before. It was easy to live without a family and stability when she had no memory of it, but now that she does, she will do anything in her power to keep it.

wanted connections

a connection to seble - At some point, they were traveling through the Ethiopian countryside and encountered her. It can be a fleeting, but memorable meeting, or something a bit more substantial. They are something of a lifeline for Andromeda, and act as proof that Seble ever existed at all. (0/1)

a key to the past- All she knows is that she woke up running. From what, or from who? She doesn’t know. This person has some idea, or holds some kind of clue to what might have been the cause. It could be a false lead, but it also could be the first thread to unravel. (0/1)

friendship, no questions asked- Andromeda is very reserved, and speaks very, very little about her past. It’s hard to find those who aren’t at least a little bit curious about it, but this person doesn’t seem to care- they just want to be her friend. Ironically, this is who she most likely to eventually share her story with, and who she is likely to be closest to.

a doubter- It’s a little convenient, right? The princess is just chilling in the countryside for a decade and then waltzes back home to enjoy the opulence? Especially now, with so many snakes in the grass. This can be as casual or antagonistic as you want! 

don’t you remember me?- A close friendship from before she disappeared. She seems… different now, not the girl she was when they were children. It wasn’t the happy reunion you expected, and there doesn’t even seem to be a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. Whether they grow closer or keep a tense distance is up to plotting! (0/3)

[balteren]

{jessie mei li, 26, demi-female, she/they} We are so glad to see you safe, EXILED COUNTESS ELEONORA ‘NELL’ ADLERBERG of SCOTLAND (GERMANY)! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are RESOURCEFUL and KIND enough to handle it. Just don’t let your WARINESS bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ELOPED WITH A STABLEHAND WHO WAS INVOLVED IN AN ILL-FATED AND SHORT-LIVED GERMAN INSURGENCY GROUP, AND YOU WERE SMUGGLED TO SCOTLAND BY THE REBELLION TO AVOID EXECUTION. 

the basics

Full Name: eleonora adlerberg Nicknames: nell (preferred over eleonora) Faceclaim: jessie mei li Gender: demi-female (she/they) Sexual Orientation: bisexual, biromantic Age: 26 Birthday: march 15 Occupation: exiled countess Marital Status: married? widowed? single Pets: a seal bay hanoverian gelding named hamlet Loyalties: the scottish rebellion Positive traits: intelligent, tactical, compassionate, resourceful, devoted, generous Negative traits: distrusting, paranoid, haunted, closed-off, occasionally reckless, harbouring a new vengeance

aesthetics

Inspiration: sansa stark (game of thrones), sybill crawley (downton abbey), this clip Animal: rabbit Tarot Card: the hanged man Zodiac: pisces Mineral: labradorite Song: abbey - mitski

what is known by the public

As the eldest daughter of Count Gustav Adlerberg, Eleonora was heir to a family legacy that lay so deeply entrenched with the German Hatzfelds, many preferred to believe that she had died, rather than accept she had betrayed her country. 

But it was not as simple as that. These things never are. 

At one point, she was betrothed to Elias Hatzfeld, but (naturally) that engagement was broken once news spread that she had disappeared, only to emerge in Scotland, working in collaboration with Scottish rebels. No further information is publicly known about the nature of her treason.

Nell is different now, no longer bright and bubbly. Bits of that person still exist, but they are reserved for their closest friends and allies. They are often found at the stables, caring for the horses, reading books out in the pastures.

backstory

Nell was a carefree child, content even with her father’s insistence that she dedicate herself to the study of politics, history, diplomacy, and philosophy. She was entirely aware that he had every intention of passing his position as a foreign advisor to her upon his death, but it wasn’t something she ever thought much about, or even considered taking issue with- those expectations were placed on her since birth, and she had never known a life without them on her shoulders. 

Trusted deeply by Gustav- which was no easy feat- Nell was given a great deal of free rein, and was allowed to do what she pleased outside of her daily lessons. Most of this time was spent at the family’s stables, taking the horses out for hours-long rides, falling asleep with a book in the hay loft, and polishing the saddlery (to her mother’s horror). This sanctuary would become a tomb, the day she met Johannes. 

She did not know she was asleep until she met him. When he touched her for the first time- a simple brush of hands, as he passed her a bridle- her body hummed with electricity, and the world was instantly filled with so much color, she could not even bring herself to dread the inevitable conclusion. 

Despite a betrothal to King Elias Hatzfeld, she did not bother to hold herself back from the stable boy. Not that it mattered- before the thought of restraint even crossed her mind, they’d already bared their souls to one another in every conceivable way. Even the admission that he was involved in a small, but growing, insurgency was not enough to tear her from him. 

It was Nell that got down on one knee, asking him to marry her. He protested, fearing for their safety- but Nell was willing to run, to desert her birthright, to spurn the Hatzfeld king and give up a crown of her own, to change her name and burn every aspect of her current life to the ground. 

They eloped the same night, in a small church a mile down the road. For three weeks, they were incandescently happy. They moved between safe houses, evading her father’s search parties, attending rebel meetings deep in the forests, and feeling deeply lucky despite it all. 

Luck ran out at one of these meetings, when they were ambushed by German soldiers. Nell was caught and dragged away by one of the soldiers, a heavy hand clapped over her mouth so that she would scream out when she heard the barrage of musket-fire. 

She was kept in an abandoned barn for a few days, before someone snuck her into the cargo hold of a ship, where she was certain the journey would end in her imprisonment or execution. Instead, she walked freely off the boat to see the familiar shores of her mother’s home: Scotland. She had not been abducted that night- she had been rescued. 

Now, she exists in something of a limbo. She owes her life to the Scottish rebellion and lives under their protection, but that safety relies on their success. And that’s nothing to compared to her fear of Johannes’s fate- is he alive? Imprisoned? Under torture? 

She is in a pit of vipers, cornered by the Germans who want her head, and the Stuarts who want the heads of her protectors. She must harden herself, or die.

wanted connections

siblings- Nell was the eldest of 5 children, and they were all quite close, often traveling around formal events like a flock of birds. She has a great deal of affection for them, but everything has changed since Nell ran away from home, and she has significantly damaged their standing in German court. It would be fun to play with the feelings of betrayal, and the complexities of familial loyalty- especially when they were once so close! 

johannes- She’s never stopped wondering about what happened to him, whether he escaped with his life, was captured and imprisoned, or killed. And now, inconceivably, he’s here! Things were never simple between them, but now they’ve never been more complicated. This is a deep and very intense connection, but there's a lot of room for conflict, especially if his reason for being in Spain is complicated.

a little indulgence- Even a secretly grieving traitor can get laid on occasion. Just someone to keep the bed warm! But maybe things get a little more complicated, and some feelings get involved, and suddenly it’s not just an indulgence. Made even more complicated by the potential arrival of Johannes!! (0/1)

betrayed friends- Those she was close to in Germany, who were totally blindsided by her disappearance and subsequent resurfacing in Scotland. (0/3)

confidante and ally- Her closest friend, who may not have known all the details about her relationship with Johannes, but was more in the know than anyone else. Can be from any kingdom, with most correspondence happening via letter. (0/1)

[balteren]

previous posts are archived and to be disregarded beyond this point

[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.