#c; elise bonepledged

[ashescshes-blog]

            DISPENSABLE or Milena Ivanov’s Journey from Sister to Duchess

written for bloodvbonerpg’s february writing prompt warning: this content contains mature themes and several triggering topics

2261, or the Abuse

“Stand up straighter. You’re an Ivanov, for fucks sakes. And--”

“Ivanovs don’t slouch.” repeated the youngest with a mocking whine to her voice. Iryna barely had time to finish the arc of her eyes into her skull before she felt a stinging pain in her arm. A cold, silk-adorned hand covered her mouth to contain her wail of pain from the ears of the rest gathered in the Throne Room.

As Iryna’s mother unclenched her nails from the meat of her youngest daughter’s arm, blood began to drip down the pale skin in thin ribbons. In the time it took the blood to crawl down her pale skin and reach her wrists the shallow crescent-shaped cuts had already healed.

The woman’s dark eyes flicked over the decorated head of her little girl to where her eldest, Milena, had taken care of silencing the punishment without being asked. As she did with everything one would not have noticed Milena’s attention wavered between helping her mother control her siblings and the procession going on before them.

The closer one was to the Hollow Throne, the more eyes were upon them. And though the entire Court seemed to be rapt with attention as His Royal Highness conducted the ceremony that all had gathered to witness; the ascension of a Lower Caste into the ranks of her betters, anyone who knew how the Court worked would have their eyes trained on their King but the rest of their senses focused on the rest of the room.

And no child of hers, only two bloodlines removed from King Albescu, would slouch so long as Olivia Ivanov remained matriarch.

Olivia allowed the ceremony to regain its place to the forefront of her attention. Not a hair out of place, nor a fluttering of her skirts as she permitted her eldest to take care of the rest.

Milena, who had carried a sour face for all the hours leading up to the event, had outdone herself at how she seemed not only relaxed among the crowd but also accepting of the implications the ceremony carried. Around the waistline of her dress she procured a scrap of cloth and wrapped it around her sister’s wrist.

Iryna clenched her teeth around young, dewey lips as she her blood was cleaned against her will.

But as with all things involving her younger siblings, Milena paid her obvious discomfort no mind and continued doing what was best for the name of the family. And though all those with five bloodlines or less in distance to the Albescu family were packed towards the front of the ancient and rusting Hall like a mass grave, no one was any the wiser.

Iryna did not slouch again.

The ceremony lasted until the sun had set over the far, forest-dotted horizon. As the appointed General, Zolnerowich, rose from her kneeling position, the King spread his arms wide in stoic silence.

Restrained applause went around the room in a large oval. The Ivanovs were not the only family with discontent about the arrival of a Lower Caste among their ranks, but they were satisfied in knowing such a feat could only be accomplished by those who went above and beyond for not only the Bone Court but the Bone King upon the Hollow Throne himself.

And tonight, with the rotted and withered face of the Vampire Blood King poised on a golden rod outside the gates to Court, they would celebrate their victory -- however temporary -- until the sun rose and turned what was left of the former King of Leeches into ash.

The doors at the end of the Hall opened and servants began pouring in single-file with candles and torches to begin setting up for the festivities. The King gave a bow and stepped off of his dais to retire before everything began, and the rest of the Court took their leave only when the side doors had closed behind him.

Olivia Ivanov stepped before her daughters; the young Iryna barely containing herself, Milena with a face of carved marble, and Zinaida who, as was expected of her, had already departed from her family to venture across the floor and rejoin her latest courter.

“Milena.” Was their mother’s only acknowledgement before she turned and departed with a small wave of heads of family.

Milena’s soft curtsy at her mother’s departure went, familiarly, unnoticed. And only when the siblings were alone did Iryna truly look frightened. Wide, doe eyes looked up to the towering figure of her sister beside her and a beat of sweat fell down her temple.

Milena’s shadow began to eclipse her and Iryna moved to flinch away from whatever she might be struck with -- though in the back of her mind she remembered they were still among public eyes and that to be punished in front of them would shame not only the sisters but the entire family -- only to feel fabric brush against her cheek.

Milena gave a soft and gentle wipe of her linen to Iryna’s head to make sure the signs of her fear were removed from sight.

“You’re a fool for mocking Mother so,” Milena muttered under her breath so that only her sister may head, “especially with the negotiations taking place tonight.”

Milena righted herself and offered her gloved hand to the child, who took it in her own. Together they departed the Throne Room as a single unit, with only Milena giving notice to those who wished them farewell. It wasn’t expected of Iryna, still a child without her first kill, and for that she was grateful.

“I’m sorry, ‘Ena,” as wince of pain as the grip holding her hand became a voice, “Milena, Milena I meant Milena.” And the grip slackened.

“Don’t apologize to me. Nor to Mother if you know what’s good for your wretched little tongue.”

“But--”

“Apologies are temporary and useless things. Do better next time. Don’t fuck up again.”

In a corridor less-crowded, Milena stopped and brought her sister to stand before her. She took a gentle knee,and smoothed her skirts as she did so.

“Embarrass Mother in front of the Court again and she won’t be merciful.”

Iryna’s face scrunched into childish confusion. “Even though…”

Her voice trailed off, but Milena waited. Iryna made an expression as if to say the rest of her statement was implied, and earned a crack over her ear for it.

“You aren’t Caste, Iryna Katya,” she chided while smoothing down her sister’s hair, “if you open your mouth to speak, the only thing that should stop you from finishing is losing your tongue.”

Iryna’s lower lip trembled as she nodded. “Even though she’s my Mother?”

Mirth of a dangerous kind flickered in Milena’s bright eyes. Iryna had seen that look only several times before; when her elder sister was eying the King, or the Throne he sat upon. It wasn’t something reserved for their meals -- it was a look for a different kind of hunger.

“You remember what she did to Father. And he was the love of her life.”

A chill ran through the young Upyr as memories she had long-ago locked away were prodded. Enough to instill terror within her; enough to make her nod fervently in silence.

Milena stood; satisfied.

“Good. Keep up your behaviour and I’ll tell Mother she can forgo your punishment tonight.”

The sisters took hands again and began towards their apartment.

2278, or the Quarrel

Milena rushed through the apartment in disarray, leaving behind her a trail of flurried papers and haphazardly-written notes that fluttered to the ground like large snowflakes.

Behind her a dutiful servant immediately sprung to action, collecting the pieces and gathering them in a neat pile in her arms.

Milena hardly noticed her, as was expected of someone serving their house, but a quick double-take caught her attention as she saw the servant glance over the contents of one of the documents.

The papers made their home on the antique carpeting a second time as the upyress slammed the servant against the wall, hand wrapped around her throat. Squeezing tightly, feeling the grind of tiny bones as the lesser upyr struggled, tried, and quickly realized it was futile to breathe.

“How dare--!”

“Milena!”

A cry of surprise, and a small infant’s gurgle behind her and Milena turned her head away from the struggling servant to whoever dared interrupt her.

Zinaida stood in the doorway, still dressed in her frock to battle the winter chill around the Court Gardens. Bundled in her arms was their young infant brother, Nika; the only male in the Ivanov family and, as of his one year on the earth, an extreme disappointment to their mother. So much so that Zinaida had taken over much of his rearing while the Matriarch of the Ivanov House continued her usual duties of ensuring their status.

A duty that was being pressed down upon Milena’s back like the weight of the world itself.

Her sister stared at the scene before her with a judgment usually reserved for those beneath her, but Milena remained unphased. Tightened her grip on the servant’s throat. She could feel the fluttering pulse beneath her hand beginning to quicken in anticipation for the end.

“How was your stroll, sister?” asked Milena casually. Zinaida’s lips pursed into the same thin-lined frown their mother always wore.

“Why are you murdering the help?”

“What business is it of yours?”

“Well,” Zinaida clicked her tongue, “besides the fact the help isn’t solely yours, but belongs to the family, and I have no time to get Iryna ready for her debut tonight…”

Milena’s jaw clenched at her sister’s condescending tone. “There are others. Others who know better than to let their eyes wander.” She looked back to the flailing girl in her grasp.

“We mustn't touch what isn’t ours, lest we suffer the consequences.”

“Oh for fucks sakes, Milena, she was doing her job in picking up your mess!”

A look passed between Milena and her captive in the briefest of moments. Though her trembling eyes tried to see through the grim figure of the Ivanov choking her to plead with the one making her case, there was an understanding in the space they occupied together. The servant conceded her fight for breath. Milena’s hand tightened. The briefest snapping sound followed, and Nika began to wail in his swaddle while the hanging body went limp.

Zinaida gave an exasperated sigh as she tried to calm down the infant. “There there Niki, hush now. You’re alright… you’ll get used to big bad Milena inconveniencing all of us. Yes you will, yes you will.”

The body slumped to the floor as Milena relinquished her hold.

“Save your high horse for someone else.” She scoffed, and began to pick up the fallen papers on her own.

“I’m just telling him the truth.”

“Like his constant screaming isn’t a burden?”

“Not as much as yours.”

Milena whipped her head around to glare at her sister -- strands of hair falling out of place in her high bun and into her sight line. Zinaida had the gall to not move a muscle. Tense silence filled the space between them, before the younger upyr glanced down to readjust the fussing baby.

With her papers in hand, Milena righted herself as she stood and smoothed her hair back into her usual flawless appearance. Not only would she still be late to her meeting with the other King’s Advisors, but now she would have to explain to Mother why they needed to bring in a new Caste to serve the house. It was shaping up to be a very long day.

On her way to the door, Milena stopped beside her coddling sister. Zinaida paid her no mind as she let Nika nibble on her fingertips.

“Sister,” Milena spoke lowly as she brushed the tips of her nails through the thin strands of hair atop their brother’s head, “if you ever question me again, I won’t hesitate to seek punishment.”

The soft tone held an underlying menace that made Zinaida give the briefest of glances upwards to her elder sister. Milena, however, was focused on combing Nika’s mop.

“Fine. Not in front of the help.”

“No… I mean at all.”

“Milena…”

The next words she spoke sent a chill down Zinaida’s spine: “Learn your place, and respect mine. Or you’ll be joining the help.”

Something in the simple way she spoke warned the upyress that Milena wasn’t joking. She watched, eyes wide, as her sister bent down and kissed the crown of the infant’s head before departing.

Not another glance or word passed between them.

2289, or the Beginning

All fell silent as the King stepped forward. His eyes roamed over each of the Ivanov children, taking in their appearance, their demeanor, their stance. Four crowns of raven-wing hair met him back in supplication. Nothing out of place. Nothing flawed. It was the epitome of perfection that Olivia would have demanded from such an occasion.

King Albescu reached out an open palm. Thin pale fingers encased in a silk glove reached upward and hovered delicately over his skin -- respect shown in restraint. The hand was carried to his lips and there he bestowed upon it a chaste, lingering kiss.

“The Hollow Throne gives condolences for your loss,” he spoke with his usual softness, but in the stillness of the Throne Room all could hear him clear as day, “to lose one’s kin is a tragedy, but to lose one’s elder is something that has yet to be defined in its impact.”

Gabriel released Milena’s hand and she brought it back to rest over her front.

“The Ivanov Family is humbled by your words, Your Majesty.”

Gabriel passed the siblings to stand before the resting place of Olivia Ivanov; bare as custom dictated but decorated in ornate wreaths and weavings from the Court Gardens.

“Your sisters’ handiwork?” he asked, and beside Milena, Zinaida and Iryna nodded once, “impressive and detailed. Your love shines through.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the younger girls rang out in chorus together.

His hand, adorned with the King’s rings, hovered over one of Olivia’s long arms in silent reverence. Beyond the family and King, dozens of members of the Court watched. Some had known Olivia her whole life, others for a brief time. And some had never even seen the trails of her skirts around a corner. But for the death of such an important and pure Upyr attendance was not only demanded, failure to do so was a punishable offense.

As he took the limp hand in his, Gabriel’s eyes flickered to Milena and approval was silently spoken.

The eldest Ivanov stepped forward and, chin high, she began to address the Court.

“The Ivanov House is humbled by the presence seen here today,” her speech, carefully rehearsed, echoed through the crowd, “and could she see the faces that mourn the gaping hole created by her loss, I know Mother would be pleased at the diligence of your duties to your respective Houses. Since the crowning of His Royal Highness, may his soul be without tether--” a brief pause; silence for the Court to mourn their first King and Gabriel predecessor, “--Olivia dedicated her life to the noble art of serving the Hollow Throne without question, without expectation, and without a need for anything in return except the knowledge that she was working towards a purer line of Upyr lineage.

“And though her loss is a great one for this House, her soul can rest without tether knowing that I, Milena Athenodora Ivanov, take her place as Matriarch of the Ivanov line.”

Restrained and polite applause followed the coattails of her words. In that brief moment something came over the upyress; never before had she been given the opportunity to address the Court in such a manner, and the thrill of it filled her with a longing for it to continue. Up there, before her family, before her King, before the Court itself, Milena felt a triumphant wave of power.

And when it passed, it left an anchor in her gut -- clinging to Milena with the strength of iron chains.

She would do this again. And no power on the earth would be enough to stop her.

Milena stepped back in line and turned to watch, along with the eyes of the Court, as King Albescu brought Olivia’s arm forward. Skin broke, bones cracked and ground together, and the tang of old and respected blood caused every Upyr present to relish it with an inhale as Gabriel took the King’s Share of the Dead in the first bite.

The funeral went on for the rest of the night. In a show of “grace and decency” Olivia Ivanov had requested her funeral be a public affair; her death shared with all who knew her in life. After Gabriel, her children had taken their share before opening up the meal to the rest of the Court. Wine was brought up from the cellars and soft music filled the spaces in between polite conversation as the siblings took their places at different corners of the room for condolences to be given from those gathered.

Milena gave a short curtsy to Advisor Vasilescu as he departed. Behind him like a shadow followed the youngest Petrescu son, whispering in his ear at a level that not even the skillful Milena’s ears could pick up.

“Interesting, that you would prostrate to your equal.”

Milena’s curtsy deepened as Gabriel came to stand before her. They were alone; the rest of the Court giving a wide berth to their King and the Ivanov Head.

“Mother would have respected his presence,” she countered, and continued at the King’s raised brow, “despite his change of status, his blood is no less pure.”

Gabriel nodded and took Milena’s hand in his to give her fingers another kiss of respect.

“Olivia was a wise woman; her ambition almost without equal.”

“Almost, Your Highness?”

“Indeed.”

Gabriel’s hands came to cover Milena’s in his own, and though she was able to mask her surprise with years of practice, the intent behind the action was still unknown to her.

Their eyes met. Secrets weren’t a foreign concept to the pair. Milena had been trading in them for half a decade now and the results were far more promising than either of them could have anticipated. Secrets discovered that even the King himself had wished to keep hidden.

“The world is changing, Milena,” Gabriel nodded to the resting table, now empty from the feasting, with the decorative garlands abandoned and each flower petal dotted with Olivia’s blood. “As each member of my Uncle’s regime dies, I must replace them with those who would serve me best.”

“As you see fit, Your Highness.”

A spark flickered in Gabriel’s dark eyes. “And with those replacements I find myself wondering if there is space between the Throne and the Court itself. A space that needs filled -- a bridge between the worlds, of sorts.”

Milena carefully inclined her head, lashes brushing against her high cheekbones.

“And what might this bridge do, Your Highness?”

“Serve as conduit to the Hollow Throne. The Advisor of my Advisors, of my Generals, of all who carry title in our Court. Someone who knows the importance of our purity and who has seen to it that this shall not waver. Who can be my acting hand in all matters, public and…”

“In the shadows?” Milena offers, and Gabriel’s chuckle rumbles through them both where they remain joined.

“And in the shadows, yes.”

The two Upyr gazed deep into one another’s eyes. Finally, only after giving him space to continue, Milena spoke.

“And what title might this position carry, exactly?”

The lack of honorific was not lost on the King. “I’ve yet to decide, in truth. As one of my trusted Advisors… would you happen to have a suggestion?”

Despite the grief around them, Milena’s lips curled in a reserved smile.

“Actually, I may. How familiar are you with the old, Human titles held in this very hall?”

2296, or the Rift

Not a word had passed between the siblings the entire length of the meal. Servants came and went, bringing in plates of decadent portions and returning empty porcelain to the kitchens. Knives and forks scraped against the fine antiques; the symphony of a family without anything to say.

At his end of the table, Nika took a gulp of his wine for courage and cleared his throat.

“I’m actually, uh, glad you chose to dine with us, sister. There’s been something I’ve wanted to discuss with you.”

Milena looked up from the stack of notes beside her plate. Though she wore the mask of a thoughtful sister, her siblings gathered knew it was a facade -- that she would much rather be taking her meal and pouring over the most recent Advisor Meeting alone in her offices.

Still, at the very least she attempted to seem interested in her brother’s attempt at conversation.

“If you needed to discuss something with me, why did you not come to my offices?”

Nika frowned. “I… did. Your guards didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Their words were drowned in silence and more chewing as Nika looked back at his plate as though it was suddenly filled with new and interesting things.

Inwardly, Milena seethed that her brother was going to force her to continue the conversation. A conversation she neither wanted nor cared about the details of.

Outwardly, she set down her utensils and folded her hands together over her plate.

“What did you wish to discuss?”

In their flanking seats sisters Zinaida and Iryna exchanged furtive, worried glances.

An emboldened Nika looked across the table at his sister; her words mistook for actual interest.

“I’ve been drafted for the King’s Soldiers. Got the letter a fortnight ago.”

The chiming of utensils faded.

Milena’s head inclined. “You should be honored.”

“Well… I mean, I am,” Nika explained hastily, “but… I’m not cut out for that. Petrescu, Sobol, Medved; they’re all good for it. I’m not a take-orders kind of man, right?” He looked to his sisters, tried to ignore the pity in their eyes. “Right?”

The Duchess of Ash gave him a level gaze across their dinner. “I completely agree, Nika.”

He laughed in relief. “Good! So you can fix it?”

Across from him she picked up her glass of wine and drank deeply. Wiped the edges of her lips with her linen.

“That would be counterproductive to my enlisting you, little brother.”

Zinaida choked around the morsel in her mouth. Across, Iryna stifled her gasp of surprise with the palm of her hand. But it was Nika, eyes widening and jaw falling agape, who felt every emotion rush across his face in the span of a heartbeat, that was so taken aback he found himself scraping the wooden legs of his chair across the tile to stand.

“You what?!”

Milena stared, unphased.

After regaining her composure with a hearty swig of wine, Zinaida tried to join in. “Milena, tell me you didn’t.” The sudden icy stare she received wilted her resolve.

“Why shouldn’t I have,” she snapped, “lest he continue to disgrace our name with his scandals and frivolous outings beyond the Territory? Returning a full belly and not even a scrap to give the King?”

“That’s not fair!” shouted Nika in protest.

“No, but then again neither is life.” Milena wiped her mouth and stood to gather her things. “I will hear no more on this.”

“I’m not done yet!”

Iryna reached out to take Nika’s hand. They had always been closer than Iryna with her other sisters. It was simply the way their family worked. “Nika, lower your voice…”

“No!” he pleaded at her and swatted her hand away. “No this is madness! You have no right to enlist me by force!”

A chilly silence blew in from the open dining room windows. Milena, still as a corpse, looked on to her brother’s tantrum with a calm that made his bones feel hollow.

“I have no right?” repeated Milena. And her delicate tone instilled a worry in her siblings that had been bred, not born, and only in the recent years. Like a pond that they had dipped their toes into with their late Mother, but had been fully submerged in without warning the day Milena was elevated to the title Duchess of Ash.

Nika wavered, debated sitting back down. But the point of no return was not only breached, but far behind them.

“I have every right, you ungrateful little cur.” Her words were the only thing that betrayed Milena’s inner rage. “As head of this household I have the right. As the hand behind the Hollow Throne I have the right. As your fucking elder sister, I have every right. You waste your time, your years, your blood by gallivanting around without care as though you are without duty to this house and the name you bear. I will no longer sit idly by and let you besmirch everything Mother worked for -- everything I continue to work for.”

Milena straightened her back, though how it was possible to do so further no one present understood, and gave a slight nod of satisfaction as to her reasons. Nika, meanwhile, stood slaw-jawed at the tongue-lashing he had just received. Rendered silent; mute.

Slowly he lowered himself back into his seat. The youngest Ivanov struggled for something, anything to say in response, but the weight of what was happening had settled onto him with every vowel and enunciation from Milena’s poison-tipped lips. It was not acceptance that brought him back to his chair, but unadulterated shock.

Milena decided against retiring from dinner, and instead picked up her utensils to resume eating. Satisfaction oozed from every pore as she cut into her entree and took a dainty bite. Once ostracized for the weight of her familial burden as well as her Royal duty, she now knew her time in hiding had only been a stepping stone to this, here, tonight.

With the tip of her fork, she gestured to Nika’s unfinished plate.

“You’ll stay here until you finish every scrap. Once you have your first hunting patrol maybe you’ll learn to be grateful for what you have and the hard work it took to get it.”

Her gaze moved to her sisters, who struggled with what to say, or if they had the presence of mind to say it. But the look in Milena’s eyes worked quickly to silence them.

The meal resumed.

2307, or the Culmination

Milena’s nose crinkled the moment she stepped through the doors of the Ivanov apartment. As if it wasn’t bad enough that every stone and ornate golden carving that forged the Bone Court felt saturated with the stink of the mortal coil, to have it in her own home was simply unforgivable.

Though the Duchess held the most power of anyone outside of the Bone King himself, there was nothing that she could say or do that would convince Gabriel to rid them all of the Wicked he had taken in several years ago. She had tried, and knew this to be absolute.

The faint sound of conversation reached her ears and Milena walked brusquely through each doorway to the drawing room situated near the largest window in the apartment. Servants closed each door behind her as she went, but she paid them no mind. They knew their place.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Milena arrived in the doorway of the drawing room to find her sisters; eternal burdens on her soul, in polite conversation with the Wicked Prophetess herself. It sent a stabbing anger through her gut that while her sisters fell silent immediately after her entry, the Bone-Pledged continued on as though nothing had stopped their conversation.

It was bad enough that there was an audible chink as she set her teacup down on an antique older than her ancestors’ ancestors.

Iryna recovered first -- a socialite having bloomed within her in the last few years. Idle chit-chat aside, there was information to be gained in flirtatious banter with other members of the Court. Especially as the Petrescu and Vasilescu lines sealed their friendship with a marriage contract for their youngest cousins.

“We were entertaining, Duchess,” responded Iryna politely, “would you care to join us? More tea, I think.”

She gestured behind Milena for the standing servant to refresh the tea pot, but Milena’s raised hand stopped the Caste in his place.

“I have eyes, Iryna.”

“She’s asking about the Bone-Pledged, I think.” Chimed in Zinaida, who sat uncomfortably close to the Wicked thing. Milena would have to have her clothes burned come midnight, or risk the stench seeping permanently into the fabric.

Iryna nodded as if it was a revelation. “We wished to get to know her. Right, Bone-Pledged? She looked so lonely waiting for the Advisor Meeting to conclude.”

The Wicked remained silent as she sipped her tea. There was a challenge in her serpentine eyes that tensed every part of Milena’s body.

“So you bring her into our home, to muck up our furniture?”

Zinaida snorted around the rim of her cup. Iryna, to her credit, played the part of an embarrassed host well.

“Where else would we make her feel comfortable? She says the King has her in much smaller luxuries, right?”

The Wicked nodded. “Indeed, I’ve never seen anything so… beautiful.”

“Well, living amidst the insects and other foul things as you have, I’m not surprised.” commented Zinaida with a shrug. She and the Wicked exchanged polite smiles.

“Your sisters have been lovely hosts.”

“Get out.”

Decades of settling into a role of command with ease had instilled in Milena an authority impossible to miss, and to ignore it was out of the question. Both Upyr sisters set down their teacups and Milena felt the disturbance in the air as the servant moved forward to begin cleaning up the mess. He gathered everything onto a rusted silver tray -- even going so far as to pluck the porcelain from the Wicked’s grasp -- and moved to retreat.

Milena caught him with a gentle touch to the arm as he passed. “Throw it all away. We have no further use of it.” Her order was low, but not impossible to hear.

The twisted grimace on the Bone-Pledged’s face was all Milena needed to get satisfaction out of such a small gesture.

“Leave us.” spoke Milena again, and both sisters exchanged twin looks that spared no hesitation that they very much did not want to leave.

But dutifully they stood, gave the Bone-Pledged their soft farewells, and took the further doorway out of the drawing room. The Duchess and the Court Wicked were left alone, and tension began to flood the carpet and rot the wooden floors beneath their feet.

“You will never again step foot in this space, do you understand me?”

Milena was appalled when the Wicked laughed at her instead. “I don’t obey you. I obey our King.”

“Our King is easily swayed.”

“I’ve realized.”

In that moment Milena came to a certain conclusion. Though she had spent decades instilling the obedience and silence of her family, she had far less time to do such with the new Court pet. But just like the young Upyr child who once took her hand to walk down the corridors of their home, the Wicked, too, would realize everything was dispensable on the staircase to power.

Even family.

[bloodvbonerpg]

BASICS :

Name: Elise Bone-Pledged Age: 35 Race: Wicked Affinity: Prophecy Occupation: Court Wicked to the Bone Queen Faceclaim: Katie McGrath Sexuality: Bisexual Status: Taken

TRAITS :

+ : calm, reassuring, passive

- : amoral, sharp-tongued, hypnotic

THE STORY :

Unlike most Wickeds, Elise came into her affinity later in life. She was a successful hunter for her tribe, well-respected and polite. One evening she was consumed with dreams of death and blood, witnessing the massacre of her people at the hands of the Upyr whose territory they had been camping in for the past fortnight. Upon waking, Elise realized the turn of events would never fall into the humans’ favor. The Upyr were far too strong in comparison to their tribe and she knew her sisters were too ingrained in the tribe to ever leave. Her sisters could die with the rest if they loved them so much. Elisa wouldn’t be nearly as dense– survival was key and she would never get that by siding with the humans. Rather than warn them of the incoming danger, Elise packed up her hunting gear and left at daybreak. By the time she returned at sunset, sure enough her entire tribe was reduced to nothing but gruesome piles of flesh.

Elise allowed herself to be captured by the hunting party and demanded to be taken to the Bone King in return for her services. Gabriel immediately became infatuated with her gift of prophecy, which time and time again proved infallible. Elise became the first Wicked to ever earn herself a place in the Upyr Court, a political power which she both flaunted and coveted. Several weeks after Gabriel had turned down Sanctuary’s offer, Elise came to him in the dead of night wracked by what she called a terrible nightmare. She told him of the death of all Upyr kind, his legacy lost amidst death. Her prophecy was the driving force behind him agreeing to join Sanctuary. Though she is able to wear many masks, none of them show the true Elise beneath. She is cold and calculating, able and willing to use any part of herself to get what she wants–an end goal she refuses to share with anyone, even her Queen. She plays the dutiful and respectful advisor to the Queen’s Court, even offering to help the younger Wickeds harm their abilities that she spent the years following her installation at Court honing and mastering. But she alone controls the power of her visions and whether or not she chooses to share them with others. What she has seen to come will determine the fate of Sanctuary and everyone within it.

Though she was vitally close to the old King Gabriel, she made enemies with the new Queen Milena during her time at Court, and especially in Sanctuary. Her position as Court Wicked has gone from one of freedom to one of chained servitude–paranoia gripping her in a vice. Elise has been tasked with taking care of Duke Albescu during his recovery, but she knows the Queen watches them both with a haunting gaze.

SUGGESTED CONNECTIONS :

Gabriel Albescu (open) : Milena Ivanov (taken) : Kaheer the Haunted (taken) :

FC is SEMI-NEGOTIABLE

[dxrkchiild-blog]

Team Scavenge

Parnus rubbed the back of his neck as he scanned over the worn piece of paper for the fifth time, feet rocking on his heels.

He looked up, staring into the depths of the Vampire District. 

To his left was his home, to the right was the home of the stranger he had come to call Phal, though he knew that wasn’t the man’s real name, not that Phal was going to share anything with him. Speaking to the Dark-Child was expressly forbidden by the Blood King himself. 

                  Perhaps not... in this dire time, though. Not when he had been given these orders expressly by a messenger from Town Hall.

Parnus licked the inside of his teeth and took a step inside the District, and was almost surprised when he didn’t burst into flames on contact. After a hastily look around, he began to dart--a blur this way and that, moving through the shadowy corners of the night, through the whispering corners of Vampires discussing the visiting Tribe (and how delicious they looked), through those discussing the oncoming flood (and how it would drown all of the food), and through those who were ready to abandon everything and head back to the East, back to the Court.

         Parnus, despite not even having a home himself, couldn’t blame them.

He stopped in front of the dark, looming figure of the Blood King’s abode, trying not to remember what happened the last time he was there. Certainly the guards hadn’t, for the moment they recognized him, their fangs were bared, glinting in the moonlight, and they advanced toward him ready to attack.

Parnus held up the paper, one hand raised in peace.

         “I come on behalf of the Tribunal,” he stated calmly, watching their eyes flicker between prey and order, “and your King with it. I seek his child, Aurora. We have business.”

Quietly they stepped aside, and Parnus walked through the old doors.

         “Aurora, Child of Wolfgang,” Parnus called out, clearing his throat, “we have business on behalf of the Tribunal. I’d... appreciate an audience.”

( @bloodydavvn ) ( @mementcxmcri )

[bloodvbonerpg]

BASICS :

Name: Elise Bone-Pledged Age: 42 Race: Wicked Affinity: Prophecy Occupation: Court Wicked to the Bone King Faceclaim: Danai Gurira Sexuality: Bisexual Status: Taken

TRAITS :

+ : calm, reassuring, passive

- : amoral, sharp-tongued, hypnotic

THE STORY :

Being the youngest of four sisters, Elise was no stranger to repudiation and contempt being aimed at her family. She was born into it. In a world as broken as their own, her large family was frowned upon by many of the human tribes they encountered. Her parents had been exiled from their own tribe after her third sister was born; the Keeper claimed that the family’s size was an unfair division of resources, though her father swore there was more to that story than the Keeper let on.

When Elise was born, the family had been barely surviving on their own for five years– her mother’s final pregnancy had seemed to spell certain isolation for their clan. Her two eldest sisters were forced to take a bigger role in taking care of the younger two, but they held on, learning to take care of themselves and one another. They migrated between small unclaimed areas, closer to the cities than they thought was safe, but far enough out to keep from disturbing the more unfriendly human tribes. Growing up in a life so isolated from anything that could remotely be called “civilization,” Elise and her sisters learned to be careful and skilled hunters under the tight leash of their parents. Her rare encounters with other humans as she grew older often involved the quiver of her bow; usually people that they ran into were dangerous and had to be settled with the hard way. Her father didn’t seem to mind the conflict though, as every corpse often had loot to come with it.

Elise’s eldest sister, beautiful and cunning, was ultimately the key to getting the family out of living on scraps in solitude. She had caught the eye of a Keeper from a travelling tribe and negotiated her sisters’ acceptance into the tribe, providing them with the safety that came with numbers. Unfortunately, her parents weren’t a part of that deal. Their parents were older and, while hiding in the shadows had been a life their family could maintain up until then, they knew that they couldn’t live that way forever. If they kept up their lifestyle, all of them would die.

The decision was made and the sisters became a part of the tribe, her elder sister becoming the guiding hand of them all. Elise was a young teen by then, outspoken with sisters, but reserved in the presence of her newly acquired “tribe.” She was wary of strangers and their different ways, but she showed no resistance to them. The strangers had food and skills to share, so she took what she needed and gave what they required her to give. As she grew older, her sisters had become one with the tribe, but she felt no loyalty to the group as a whole. She was raised to take care of her own, so that was what she planned to do.

Unlike most Wickeds, Elise came into her affinity later in life. She was a successful hunter for her tribe, well-respected and polite. One evening she was consumed with dreams of death and blood, witnessing the massacre of her people at the hands of the Upyr whose territory they had been camping in for the past fortnight. Upon waking, Elise realized the turn of events would never fall into the humans’ favor. The Upyr were far too strong in comparison to their tribe and she knew her sisters were too ingrained in the tribe to ever leave. Her sisters could die with the rest if they loved them so much. Elisa wouldn’t be nearly as dense– survival was key and she would never get that by siding with the humans. Rather than warn them of the incoming danger, Elise packed up her hunting gear and left at daybreak. By the time she returned at sunset, sure enough her entire tribe was reduced to nothing but gruesome piles of flesh.

Elise allowed herself to be captured by the hunting party and demanded to be taken to the Bone King in return for her services. Gabriel immediately became infatuated with her gift of prophecy, which time and time again proved infallible. Elise became the first Wicked to ever earn herself a place in the Upyr Court, a political power which she both flaunted and coveted. Several weeks after Gabriel had turned down Sanctuary’s offer, Elise came to him in the dead of night wracked by what she called a terrible nightmare. She told him of the death of all Upyr kind, his legacy lost amidst death. Her prophecy was the driving force behind him agreeing to join Sanctuary. Though she is able to wear many masks, none of them show the true Elise beneath. She is cold and calculating, able and willing to use any part of herself to get what she wants–an end goal she refuses to share with anyone, even her King. She plays the dutiful and respectful advisor to the King’s Court, even offering to help the younger Wickeds harm their abilities that she spent the years following her installation at Court honing and mastering. But she alone controls the power of her visions and whether or not she chooses to share them with others. What she has seen to come will determine the fate of Sanctuary and everyone within it.

SUGGESTED CONNECTIONS :

Gabriel Albescu : Milena Ivanov : Darius Vasilescu :

FC is SEMI-NEGOTIABLE

[bloodvbonerpg]

BASICS :

Name: Elise Bone-Pledged Age: 42 Race: Wicked Affinity: Prophecy Occupation: Court Wicked to the Bone King Faceclaim: Lena Headey Sexuality: Heterosexual Status: Taken

TRAITS :

+ : calm, reassuring, passive

- : amoral, sharp-tongued, hypnotic

THE STORY :

Unlike most Wickeds, Elise came into her affinity later in life. She was a successful hunter for her tribe, well-respected and polite. One evening she was consumed with dreams of death and blood, witnessing the massacre of her people at the hands of the Upyr whose territory they had been camping in for the past fortnight. Rather than warn them of the incoming danger, Elise packed up her hunting gear and left at daybreak. By the time she returned at sunset, sure enough her entire tribe was reduced to nothing but gruesome piles of flesh.

Elise allowed herself to be captured by the hunting party and demanded to be taken to the Bone King in return for her services. Gabriel immediately became infatuated with her gift of prophecy, which time and time again proved infallible. Elise became the first Wicked to ever earn herself a place in the Upyr Court, a political power which she both flaunted and coveted. Several weeks after Gabriel had turned down Sanctuary’s offer, Elise came to him in the dead of night wracked by what she called a terrible nightmare. She told him of the death of all Upyr kind, his legacy lost amidst death. Her prophecy was the driving force behind him agreeing to join Sanctuary.

Though she is able to wear many masks, none of them show the true Elise beneath. She is cold and calculating, able and willing to use any part of herself to get what she wants–an end goal she refuses to share with anyone, even her King. She plays the dutiful and respectful advisor to the King’s Court, even offering to help the younger Wickeds harm their abilities that she spent the years following her installation at Court honing and mastering. But she alone controls the power of her visions and whether or not she chooses to share them with others. What she has seen to come will determine the fate of Sanctuary and everyone within it.

SUGGESTED CONNECTIONS :

Gabriel Albescu : Jina the Whisperer : Darius Vasilescu :

FC is SEMI-NEGOTIABLE

[bloodvbonerpg]

Would you accept Angela Sarafyan for Elise??

I could totally see Angela for Elise Bone-Pledged! This is actually a really good suggestion and I’m surprised we never thought of her before?? Good on you Anon!

[bloodvbonerpg]

        A Storm is Brewing

                                                                             After the torchlight red on sweaty faces                                                                              After the frosty silence in the gardens                                                                              After the agony in stony places                                                                              The shouting and the crying                                                                         ��    Prison and palace and reverberation                                                                              Of thunder of spring over distant mountains                                                                              He who was living is now dead                                                                              We who were living are now dying                                                                              With a little patience                                                                                                      - T.S. Eliot

Spring storms were common in the Heartlands. They washed away the haze of Winter and brought forth a lush, new feeling to the Spring season, grey clouds reaching down with fat raindrops to bring up blossoming flowers and, with it, the promise of a new harvest and abundant crops for all in Sanctuary who consumed them.

All the gardeners and farmers in Sanctuary were eager for that first large downpour. Not only to send away the brown slush that was left of the snowfall, but also to soak their feet in the mud, to know that the sunlight would burn the backs of their necks in a place they were finally beginning to call home. Each day they looked up to the blue, cloudless sky, and sighed heavy in longing.

Maybe tomorrow, they told one another, sharing soft laughs and patting one another on the back in camaraderie, maybe the day after.

It was a cloudless night, the stars painting the sky in glimmering whites and blues of all hues, when the Tribunal met in the Town Hall. The Keeper yawned as she left her home, papers tucked under her arm, barely a breeze to disturb them. The King of Bone pushed the Museum door open and walked down the steps with regal grace, watched from above by eyes of Ash. The King of Blood cracked his neck, eyes red with blood and hunger, and dashed from the depths of his wasted District, feeling the gaze of his people as he spared them no glance.

They convened with little greeting, the Town Hall doors closing behind them, the Vampires beginning their routines among those who dwelled in the night. Upon the ground, leaves dead and browned began to twirl and dance by the centre well.

The drums rose and fell with the tides, water, an ocean she had never seen, the tides rising, falling, clashing together and falling apart, both in perfect harmony and against one another, a dance she could neither describe nor understand. Water falling from the heavens in a torrent that would never end, soaking her to the bone, making her shiver, scream, teeth clacking and chattering with fear and delight.

The music of nature uninhibited.

She turned as another flash of light consumed her pale eyes, then another, twisting and turning as a part of the water itself, caught in the tide, a part of it, limbs torn from her body, pulled and tugged this way and that, carrying her to the edge of the Earth and then beyond.

She saw the Town Square, water rushing through, old wood cracking, splintering, then carried away by the flood. The top of the Museum, struck by lightning, the flash of light, then a fire that would not be so easily tamed by the flooding rain. Light but no sun, night but no moon, nothing but the rain, but the storm, but the flood and what was lost. Nothing but the rivers made from streets and the corpses made from people.

Elise woke with a start, a scream dying on her breath, the chill of night leaving a plume of fog in front of her pale lips.

With a ragged breath, the Seer composed herself and tried to shake the feeling of water consuming her lungs. Even as she hobbled to her dresser to pull a cloak upon her body, she still struggled to breath, feeling as though every breath burned her lungs and she would feel water spilling down her chin.

In furious determination she pushed her way through the Museum, down the flights of stairs towards the outdoors. She pushed away any Upyr that dared try to touch her, nails digging into their clothes and shoving them back with a primordial force, teeth gnashed in her skull.

She stumbled into the heart of the Upyr District, blinking away rain-water from her eyes, and set forth towards Town Hall in sluggish, determined paces.

Though the doors to Town Hall were never locked, there was a red cloth tied upon the handle of the outermost door that signaled the Tribunal was in session, and should only be interrupted if a dire emergency had occurred. These were issues of life and death, of disputes that would lead to such, and thus the three leaders had only ever been walked in on a handful of times.

When Elise pushed the doors open without so much as touching them, nightclothes soaked and sticking to her skin despite the dry stillness of the outside, Gabriel rushed to her side. Her chilled limbs collapsed in his arms, bringing them both to the floor.

Ayanna took a few steps towards them, worry painting her expression.

Wolfgang stayed back, watching, waiting.

Elise managed only a few words before she fell into unconsciousness.

“A storm is brewing.”

A week later, the first clouds began to show up in the sky. First wisps, not even enough to block out the sun, but they brought tears to the farmers’ eyes. As the week progressed, the clouds grew, and grew, like mighty behemoths they began to roll through the sky in long streams and large packs. Children began to wander the grassy hills, playing in the sunshine and the shade, wandering the paths to Long River and Lake Glass.

Still they wished for rain, and still the rain did not come.

Elise recovered slowly in her bed, taken care of by the King’s attendants. Within the week she was back to full health, though unlike her previous visions, the specific details of this one had escaped her. No matter how hard she tried and no matter what matter of physical divinations she attempted, she could only manage to recover fractions of the vision–and every time one was recovered, the last part was wiped from her memory, as though she was simply now permitted to remember the entire thing at once.

Not only was her traitorous memory a distress, but the physical reality of her dream touching her caused Elise to keep herself awake until she could no longer fight off sleep. The thought of dying in both a vision and in reality was something she had never contemplated, and thus is shook her to the bone.

Eventually, the clouds turned dark. The winds started off slow, but gradually grew. As Ayanna made her nightly walk to Town Hall, she had to clasp her papers in a tight grip to keep them from flying off into the heavens. Even the Vampires had to run at a slightly slower pace to avoid being pushed ever-so-slightly off course, and into collision with a building or a person. At night, the wind howled as it roamed through every street like a wailing spirit, unable to find what it so desperately desired.

Then, they came.

A tribe of twenty-three, led by Keeper Ducal Heshept. They had three wagons, few for a tribe of their size, and they looked ragged and worn. They arrived at the wooden gates of Sanctuary and were met by an Upyr patrol, led by the Duchess of Ash, who turned them away with a sneer.

“Please,” begged Keeper Heshept, tears in her eyes, “we are running low on food, and the oncoming storm has driven away all of the hunt… our children will die.”

Milena, unmoved by the woman’s plight, was ready to turn her away again, but was overruled by the arrival of Keeper Ayanna, with Anton at her side.

“Please, come inside,” Ayanna urged her, and slowly the Humans began to enter.

While her people lingered in the Town Square, Keepers Ayanna and Ducal spoke inside Town Hall, with Gabriel in attendance.

Keeper Ducal spoke of her tribe’s time in the Western coastlands, and how they were driven out by a terrible storm emerging from the sea. She told them of how many of the tribe had been swept up in the storm and they had fled for their lives, and had only come upon Sanctuary by chance.

“We only ask for food and shelter until the storm passes,” Ducal asked humbly, “and all of us are willing to put in our dues until then.”

Ayanna looked to Gabriel, inhaling as he nods. She smiled back at Ducal.

“We are happy to have you among us, Keeper Ducal,” she said, taking the woman’s trembling hands, “and we cannot thank you enough for the warning you’ve given us today. Because of you, we can prepare for the storm to come. We will wait until King Wolfgang arrives to make the final decision, but you have two of three votes of the Tribunal.”

When night fell and Wolfgang made his way to Town Hall, a mild chaos ensued. Debate was fierce, ferocious even, but Ayanna was adamant, as sharp as steel. She refused to be denied the chance to help her fellow man. Eventually, Wolfgang gave his vote of assent.

Tribe Heshept moved into five empty homes in the Human District that night. They were told the Rules of Sanctuary by their fellow Humans, and told to commit them to memory during their stay.

For the rest of Sanctuary, word of the Storm from the West spread. It spread to the farmers and the gardeners, who no longer looked at the grey skies with hope, but rather fear. It spread to the children, who hid in their homes instead of running along the paths to the Lake and the River. It spread from the Humans to the Vampires to the Upyr.

Elise, staring out her window in the Museum, looked to the sky, and felt herself drowning.

Welcome to Blood V. Bone’s Third Event: A Storm is Brewing. This event will be taking place during the entire month of May.

But this time we’re going to be doing something a little different.

We’ve paired off our players into groups that will be running 4 group threads for the duration of the month for the first part of the event. Your group has a goal you are working towards that runs parallel to the story-plot you just read. From 1 - 30 May, you and your group-mates will be working on this plot and will complete in whatever way you see fit. 

But you won’t be working blindly. Along the way we will be giving your groups hints and information that will lead you towards certain information regarding the season finale and exactly what is going on with the mysterious new Tribe.

We don’t have a planned ending for each of these plots. We just have a planned universal ending that we will take what happened in each of your groups and incorporate it into. This way everyone has contributed something to the season finale, which will take place in June.

We are trying out this method for the first time to try and encourage some cast members to write with new characters, and also to try and form a way for everyone to have an integral part in the plot. We hope it works, and we welcome any kind of feedback along the way as we try to perfect this Event experience for you all!

So here we go!

                                                    GROUPS:

                                                     Group Scavenge:

Aurora, Parnus, Elise: Your group has been tasked with going to a nearby city-ruin, from information helpfully provided by Tribe Heshept, to scavenge for sheet-metal. Try and bring back as much as you can to affix to the houses and walls of Sanctuary to divert the water. Just don’t get distracted by the civilisation of old.

                          ��                         Group Fortify:

Anton, Kellen: Your group has been tasked with helping Sanctuary fortify against the storm. Whatever the Scavenge group brings back, you work on securing to the town walls. You have the entirety of Sanctuary’s population at your disposal, but you also need to be smart. Sanctuary is a labyrinth, built to keep intruders out. The water will stay in.

                                                    Group Command:

Ayanna (Ghosted), Wolfgang, Siobhan, Milena: This is a time of crisis, and you need to make sure the people don’t revolt. They need a firm hand to keep them in line, but hit too hard and they will start hitting back. Especially with a rally of new Humans who don’t understand how things work. Some of Tribe Heshept seem to dislike the Upyr they work alongside. Why?

                                                    Group Surplus:

Gabriel, Reginmund, Nadya, Mikel: Despite what Keeper Ducal said, if you’re supposed to be holed up in the town until the weather clears up, you’re going to need food. Not only for the mortals, but so the mortals can donate blood. Your group is tasked with heading into the nearby forest to hunt what game is left. With… some of Tribe Heshept at your side?