#ageofkarme

[theportaraceli]

who? @ageofkarme where? The Silverlands When? After Aventia’s fall

Araceli has not rested since the fall of Aventia. It’s a constant hubbub of work, moving to ensure the refugees are settled. She is the heir to a region without a capital, and she has to ensure that she is seen by her people. She can’t afford to take a moment to step back, to hide in the shadows and fall apart so that she can gather herself once more. At the very least, she can’t afford that now. Instead, she moves around, always busy and always trying to come up with ways to bolster the failing morale of her people. 

It’s amidst her work that she catches a glimpse of Karme amidst the crowds, and yet another idea comes to mind as she remembers the little ball full of colors. It will probably be only a momentary relief for the weary souls, but even brief moments of happiness can help in the long term.

“Karme,” she calls out with a warm smile as she hurries to her side. “It’s good to see you. Are you well?”

[theportaraceli]

The Queenset Isles are in full splendor, the light of the day bathing them in a warm glow. They are the jewels of sea, and for once Araceli doesn’t mind having to look away from her duties to spend some time amongst the nobility to keep the Game going. It’s a beautiful sight, and she is all the more glad for being able to witness it while she can. Every day it’s different, and she doesn’t know how long the peace with Astoria will last. For now, though, she keeps the gaze on Lady Genovia’s latest invention, the airship soaring through the sky with incredible grace. It’s a rather beautiful sight, and she moves to meet the pilot once she sees the ship landing.

“Karme,” she greets the witch with a small bow and a warm smile. It’s been a while since she last saw the youngest Genovia, and she is glad to see him in a good mood. As much as she respects his grandmother, she also knows how difficult it is to grow on someone’s shadow so she hopes he is finding his way just as she is attempting to do the same. Her eyes fall on the small object, and an impressed whistle escapes her lips. Araceli is already thinking about how to commercialize the little invention, absentmindedly musing about whether bards would be interested in buying the product to add an extra oomph to their performances. “That is impressive. How does it work? Can you choose the color or the intensity?”

who?: open to all where?: boreana when?: neptunalia

The Duchess of the Skies, Athena's Hand, the most graceful airship to grace the skies. She was a gift Karme was still trying to prove he earned through diligent practice of its piloting systems. Participating in combat maneuvers on the front lines of the Queenset Isles was meant to streamline Karme's development as a pilot, but honestly he felt he got the most experience from flying around as he was currently.

The ship dipped, twisted, and flipped in the air, proof that Karme was practicing the controls daily. There was still more work to be done before he could call himself a pro, but the small crowd that had gathered to watch his aerial performance was proof Karme was making progress. As he landed and disbarked he pulled his goggles on top of his head and grinned widely with his arms on his hips. "If you thought that was cool, check this out!" From his pocket, he produced a small object he'd tinkered together in his spare time. It floated in the air and spat out colorful sparks, sparks that changed hue when he tapped the item. He thought it was super cool, plus he made it with his own hands. Sure, flying around in his grandmother's groundbreaking new invention was awesome, but his little trinket had merit too. He thought so at least. "Let's just say this buddy helps to keep the vibe light in the control room," Karme says, showing off how the sparks change color when his finger taps on it.

[xpolarisx]

@ageofkarme location: karme's workshop notes: post grandma's convo, pre-him officially moving out

From one end of the workshop to the other, this witch's forge was littered with piles of half-worked thoughts and gadgets buried so deep they might never see the light of day. Most of it just looked like junk, garbage that Polaris gingerly cleared with the toe of his boot to keep himself from tripping. As far as hordes went it left a good deal to be desired; it was deceptive at first as a mountain of gleaning metals but the tarnish at the edges and the oil smears upon closer inspection spoke volumes of the apprentice's mental state.

The request was a bit delayed, booked well over a year ago, but the snobbish woman had paid a handsome fee to have a statue of an Apprentice of Vulcan constructed. While the sculptor had been finishing a piece of the One God in Maferath, he'd returned recently to begin work on the commissions on Lysaran soil.

A pre-visit was a requirement to assess his subjects before he began: the right material needed to be chosen and that was best accomplished upon close inspection. Polaris already had a strong read on the witch's... personality, given the state of this place, but nevertheless, he needed more information.

There was some clamor and a bit of ruckus, and when Polaris turned toward the source he saw the subject in question. "Karme-" it was the closest he came in greeting humans these days, superiority coming off him in waves. "Your cousin has commissioned a sculpture of you... Your-" he assumed that Karme was aware, "attire is nonstandard."

[witchertorsten]

@ageofkarme location: Karme's Workshop notes: let's see if Karme is still in his bottom!era

Stood upon the shores of one of the Queenset Isles, Torsten had left his post within Eterna to venture out on his own. In true fashion for the witcher, he wore his mithril plate and stood out from the crowd as he glimmered against the backdrop of the waters across the bay.

Torsten was here. Despite himself and his better judgment, he'd gone through the motions of making his way to the witch's workshop. In truth, he expected very little from this, and while he trusted very few - he'd seen this one passed out in his own filth and thought there was little chance of any nefarious intentions.

"Witch." Torsten greeted coldly, announcing his arrival as his sharp eyes took in the abominations that littered the man's workspace.

[incubusnero]

Person: @ageofkarme Location: Karme's lil workshop "I never really got to thank you for what you did, when you made that statue." He hadn't really minded that he'd decided to visit while Karme had made it apparent he was somewhat busy. It didn't matter to him, he sat there in the middle of the room somewhat afraid to touch anything. But it's just nice to have the company and as Karme's grandmother, he thought he could use some positive reinforcement as he worked.

[princemordecai]

@ageofkarme location: Vulcan's Vessel notes: shirtless fan service, puzzle box pals but they don't know it

Leander was here to see a woman about a fitting, while she worked, he lingered. The Centurion had lived in the desert, in Blackrock, studied dragons and natural weaves of the world - but Vulcan's Vessel was still hot as fuck. The volcano gave the Apprentices a lot of raw power to work with and that was precisely how he preferred it.

Leander was already an Olympian by the time the scrawny dweeb from the Chrysanthos line showed up. Ol'Trouty came with his share of nicknames: piss pot, piss pants, piss head, trouty-mouth, bucket face, Leander could go on because each was funnier than the last but he never repeated them. Karme's mother was a Warrior of Mars, one that commanded respect. War took a lot, and orphans weren't in short supply but this one was personal. At the end of the day though, somehow, the Chrysanthos-reject was still an Olympian. One who'd gone to Aventia even though no one expected him to.

"Heard there was a group of people flying around the continent killing monsters." Leander wouldn't have thought of Karme if it hadn't been Athena's Hand seen soaring through the sky. There were times in a person's life when they could either go left or right, little decisions that compounded over time didn't hold a candle to a fork in the road. "Good to see you didn't get yourself fucking killed."

[xpolarisx]

@ageofkarme location: Comedy Keep, Private Booth notes: yuk yuks but make it a satire about young love

There were a few moments still until the curtain raised, at present there was a fool below juggling poisoned daggers but the trick was he kept flubbing and pricking himself. Every prick caused a portion of the infected digit to flare up, causing his hands to grow progressively larger. Red, then purple, if the man lost the use of his hands did that make this his masterpiece? Polaris didn't find it amusing but he was holding out hope for the main event. What was most intriguing was the full seats, the sold-out boxes, and the full theatre.

In usual fashion, the dragon was dressed well, Polaris could wonder if it was still considered assimilation after all this time. Parts of him still did not belong, maybe he would never feel as though he did, and neither did he wish to. A wolf among sheep and an opportunist, that was the role that Polaris intended to continue playing. While he'd met Karme outside, Polaris had been quick to usher them both inside so they could take their seats.

"What are the odds you're going to be able to sit still for the next two hours before we break for intermission?" Polaris asked, endeared. Idly, Polaris wondered if Karme had taken his advice and slept at all before this. On the same train of thought, the question of whether Karme had ingested anything other than fumes from an engine was making itself known at the back of his thoughts. From their first meeting it had become immediately apparent that while Karme could work himself to the bone, he failed at taking his own self into consideration. Polaris was a selfish creature by nature, he needed to be, which is what gave him some insight into Karme's more self-destructive side.

[theportaraceli]

“I suppose I should follow your lead then, Mister Karme,” she acquiesced with a small inclination of her head, bemusement clear on her face as the matter is settled. She understands that by virtue of her position she has a great deal more leeway when it comes to using the rules of etiquette, and there are times she uses that leeway as a weapon. Still, she sees no wield the weapons she had learned to use playing in the game with Karme. Not when he has been nothing but kind for her to this point. 

“Beauty can serve to inspire the hearts of people,” she agrees easily, eyes eager as she turns away from the window display as she turns to look at Karme, eager to use the opening to talk about what she wanted to bring up when she had seen the witch. She falters as she opens her mouth to speak, a flash of grief crossing her features before she gets a hold of herself and offers him a pained smile. 

“Thank you, and I am sure you will rise to the occasion,” she tells him earnestly before swallowing back her grief. “I actually wanted to talk to you about the little things that keep us going. The other day, I remembered that colorful invention of yours that you showed me back in Neptunalia and I wondered if you still had it?”

Each of the Queenset Isles governed themselves differently, but within Genovia, the rules of etiquette were as ironclad as the defenses that swallowed up most of the isle's beaches. "Oh no, I insist. If word got back to grandmama or one of my aunts that I failed to address a lady properly, they'd have my head. There's no need to feel awkward about your status around me."   Even more so now, Karme didn't feel embarrassed by his noble status either. Even if people knew his name, he hoped the lack of embroidered gold in his robes indicated where he stood with his house and how he wanted to prove his worth, not theirs.   "It the little things that keep us going. I think so anyway. That's why I don't mind taking my time in the city for some window shopping! I can get back to work later," he says before a drawn-out pause. "Also, I'm sorry about Aventia. The Tower only requested me because I made an effective transport, but I'm hoping that I'll be more useful if Lysara's in danger. I have some real field experience now."

[theportaraceli]

Karme’s smile is infectious, and the ever-present headache she had been feeling since the fall of Aventia eases at his enthusiasm. Stepping closer, she moves to catch a glimpse of what he is looking at in the shop’s window and her smile widens at the glittering crystal. It’s not exactly what she had wanted to talk to him about, but it’s close enough to the topic that it will naturally head in that direction. 

“Araceli, please Karme. We are the same age,” she insists even as she keeps her eyes on the crystal. One year of difference,  give or take; but not enough that it is too much of a gap. And she wants to ask him for a favor, having him be respectful would make it uncomfortable when she doesn’t want to relate her idea back to the game. 

“I think I get it,” she admits with a hum. “It’s been a rough few months, so taking some time to appreciate beautiful things is more than worth it.”

Karme didn't wait to be told where to go anymore. He felt more free to use the Duchess to get around the queendom more. Flying suddenly became something he did just for fun instead of to get better.

So long as he could keep himself entertained, a few haphazard flight patterns wouldn't hurt anyone. He could fly over the Silverlands and pick up interesting trinkets in Lórien'dal whenever he wanted so he did! Something shiny in a shop window drew Karme in, prompting him to press his face against the glass and stare with such intensity that he almost didn't hear Araceli's voice.

"Huh ... oh Lady Araceli! Come see for yourself!" In a general sense, Karme felt a little more optimistic about things, so much so that something eye-catching was enough to impact his mood. "Look at this crystal, really look at it. I'm great because I get to stare at something so beautiful for as long as I want. How could I not be? Can you feel it too?"

[theportaraceli]

Mechanics and alchemy were all a foreign language to her, and one she would not be learning beyond its basics. Innovation had never been the Severian’s legacy, and as fascinating as she found the work, she had to spend most of her time learning how to be an heir not an inventor. That did not mean that she wasn’t fascinated by the advancements done within the Tower of Olympia by the Apprentices of Vulcan. On the contrary, Araceli went out of her way to keep herself updated with the newest inventions, trying to keep a finger on the pulse of innovation to see if anything could prove useful for her or the Borderreach. 

“That sounds like it would take quite the delicate touch to forge,” Araceli says as she listens to Karme’s explanation, brows lifting in surprise at the intricacy found in such a small object. It’s a work unlike what Lady Genova had done, the comparison between Athena’s Hand and the object in Karme’s hand clear, but all the more fascinating for it. Small things could be endlessly precious, she knows from experience, and more importantly, they can be expensive. As a merchant, she was honor bound to learn more, if only to see if it could be a worthy investment. “I did take some classes on arranging when I was younger. It was all the rage at the time, why?”

The Queenset Isles are in full splendor, the light of the day bathing them in a warm glow. They are the jewels of sea, and for once Araceli doesn’t mind having to look away from her duties to spend some time amongst the nobility to keep the Game going. It’s a beautiful sight, and she is all the more glad for being able to witness it while she can. Every day it’s different, and she doesn’t know how long the peace with Astoria will last. For now, though, she keeps the gaze on Lady Genovia’s latest invention, the airship soaring through the sky with incredible grace. It’s a rather beautiful sight, and she moves to meet the pilot once she sees the ship landing.

“Karme,” she greets the witch with a small bow and a warm smile. It’s been a while since she last saw the youngest Genovia, and she is glad to see him in a good mood. As much as she respects his grandmother, she also knows how difficult it is to grow on someone’s shadow so she hopes he is finding his way just as she is attempting to do the same. Her eyes fall on the small object, and an impressed whistle escapes her lips. Araceli is already thinking about how to commercialize the little invention, absentmindedly musing about whether bards would be interested in buying the product to add an extra oomph to their performances. “That is impressive. How does it work? Can you choose the color or the intensity?”