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nightingalescall · 1 year ago

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Prelude to Pandemonium

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1|part 2(you are here)|part 3

"I can't breathe, Zephyr..."

You panted as you posed for the ending, your legs trembling beneath you from the exhaustion and the lack of oxygen. You've been repeating this sequence for the past several days but it just doesn't get easier, not with your access to air hindered.

Zephyr sighed, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Lady (y/n) but this is standard protocol." You went back to standing normally as you lifted up your veil, revealing your sweat-filled face.

"How... How did you do this without fainting?" You expressed your confusion and astonishment at Zephyr as you tried to catch your breath. Zephyr walked closer, his hand holding a towel before using it to wipe your sweat away. "I struggled just as much as you did, Lady (y/n). In fact, you're doing much better than I did in the past." He smiled reassuringly.

"You're not saying that just to comfort me, are you?" You questioned skeptically as you took the glass of water he handed you before taking a sip. "It's the truth." Zephyr reassured, patting your head.

You nodded and handed him back the glass, believing him. "It's just...So hard to breathe with this on and dance at the same time." You complained under your breath. Zephyr reached towards your hair and took off the veil. He fiddled with the fabric in his hands, appearing to be thinking.

"...I'll get someone to make some last minutes modifications." He finally said after some silence. "Is there enough time? The ceremony is tomorrow night." You knitted your eyebrows together, unsure about his suggestion.

Tomorrow night, you will meet with the Royal family of Ebreau for the first time. From what Zephyr told you, you will be given a ceremony similar to the ones they hold for the initiation of newly appointed saints to celebrate your arrival in Ebreau. At the same time, it will serve as your debut to the public eyes. During the ceremony, the Royal family will give you their blessings as a welcoming to the kingdom. Then, they will impart to you their hopes for further collaborations. In response, instead of words, you will perform the Dance of Resonare Auream to answer their call.

According to Zephyr, the Dance of Resonare Auream replicates the movements of high priests from ancient times when they performed rituals to initiate a connection with Calerus in order to seek answers from him. Their movements during these rituals were modified and implemented into this dance. The Dance of Resonare Auream is only performed by saints during their ceremonies as a way to pledge allegiance to the Royal family and symbolises a saint's role as a bridge between the divine and the mortal world.

Being the saint of the temple of Sonnet, it comes without saying that Zephyr also performed this dance at his initiation years ago. Although there are some differences between the male and female counterparts, it's still mostly the same so Zephyr became your temporary mentor and guided you though the dancesteps. The dance wasn't hard in terms of its steps, simple but still elegant and graceful. The difficulty came from the odd tempo of the dance music. It would pick up and slow down suddenly at times, not to mention there are pauses in the music which needed you to count the tempo so you wouldn't come in late or early.

The added on challenge of having to do all that with a veil on was not fun, to say the least. All you've been doing the past week or so was trying to perfect these steps and making sure you were on beat while also ensuring you don't faint during the dance. The ceremony tomorrow night was opened to all citizens to attend. Thousands of eyes will be on you then and you don't intend on making a fool of yourself. What would the people think of their Messiah if you did?

The pressure was on. You needed to do well.

You sighed internally.

If only the veil wasn't part of the standard ceremonial uniform... It'll be one less thing to worry about without it.

Zephyr held up the veil between both of you, drawing your attention back to him and temporarily obscuring your view of his face "For you, Lady (y/n)," he started, a playful tone in his voice.

"Nothing is impossible." He lowered the veil, revealing his wide smile. You felt yourself tense up at his expression and you questioned your own body's reaction. You don't understand why but you suddenly feel uneasy and on edge. Something felt off about Zephyr. His tone was warm and his body language seemed relaxed but his smile looked...Sinister.

However, as quickly as that foreboding smile appeared, it disappeared just as fast from Zephyr's face. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." A warm smile graced his lips once more as he wiped a few stray beads of sweat from your cheek. "You should go back and rest now, Lady (y/n). It'll a tiring day for you tomorrow. Come." He took your hand and led you out of the practice hall, your veil grasped firmly in his other. You followed his lead and came to the entrance door to the hall.

Just as Zephyr's hand touched the wooden door handle, a knock came from behind it and the door opened inwards, nearly hitting Zephyr in the face. "Saint Zephyr." A dainty nun stepped into the hall as she called out, her voice soft and low. Her gaze flickered to you. "A-and the Messiah." She stuttered before bowing hastily to you.

"Yes, Sister Darlene?" Zephyr nodded at her greeting. You've met Sister Darlene a few times before when she needed Zephyr's opinion on some church related matters. From your memory, she was a shy and timid young nun, prone to stuttering and fumbling over her words. Though, you heard she has a knack for singing. Maybe you could befriend her. It'd be nice to have someone other than Zephyr to talk to. (Not that he wasn't good company or anything but some diversity is always good...right?)

"I-it's about tomorrow's transportation" Darlene fidgeted in place. Zephyr nodded, prodding her to continue as he fondled with your veil in his hand.. "S-shall we use the opened air carriage or the closed one?" Darlene asked, stealing a few short glances at you. Zephyr, however, seemed to be a bit preoccupied as he kept his gaze down while feeling out the veil. He roughly measured it using his hands as he replied nonchalantly. "The closed one."

Darlene nodded. "Then, s-shall I also inform the Ordo Concordiae? S-so they can post g-guards along our route?" You perked up at that mention. That's a name you haven't heard in a while. The Ordo Concordiae or the Order of Harmony was the name of the guards you worked for before becoming saint. it's been a while since you heard from them. Would they be present for tomorrow's ceremony too? Do...do they remember you?

Zephyr held up the veil before putting it on you once more. He adjusted it and you guessed he was taking some mental notes about the length of the veil in order to make modifications from the way he tilted your head side to side as he observed. "No need. The Royal guards will be on duty along the route tomorrow." He replied, not looking at Darlene.

You complied with Zephyr, letting him move your head around freely with the veil over your face. Through your obstructed view, you saw Darlene straightened her back before replying. "I see. I will go do the necessary arrangement then. Excuse me then, Saint Zephyr, Messiah." Darlene said as she bowed her head. You felt surprised. That was the first time you've heard Darlene speak so confidently and clearly.

Was she that eager to leave?

You held back a chuckle at the thought. Maybe you should find the time to get to know her.

"Of course, Sister Darlene." With that, she left the two of you alone. Zephyr was quiet as he looked at you. Despite the veil, he still seemed to be looking at you directly in the eyes.

"..."

After some silence, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Well, the part of the veil that covered your forehead. "Alright, let's get you back to your room now, Lady (y/n)." He pulled back and held your hand, leading you out of the hall and down the corridors of the temple.

You walked beside him as you reached up to take off the veil he forgot to remove from you. The moment your hand touched the fabric, Zephyr's hand shot up and grabbed yours, forcing it to a stop. You tilted you head in confusion.

Zephyr stopped in his steps and turned towards you, now holding both your hands in his. "In the case that I don't manage to get the necessary modifications done in time, you will still need to use this one at the ceremony, Lady (y/n)." He said as he readjusted the veil, making sure it was securely placed on your head. "Thus, i suggest you to always keep it on before your dance comes to pass. Let your body adjust to it so it won't strain you as much." He advised.

"Oh...I see." You didn't want to wear this annoying headpiece wherever you went but he made a good point. Reluctantly, you agreed. "Alright." You sighed, feeling defeated. "Good." Zephyr patted your head before continuing to lead the way.

You arrived in front of your room shortly after and Zephyr bid you farewell as you entered. The setting sun could be seen outside the window in your room. Its glow painting your room in a soft orange hue. You sighed as you walked over to your bed before limply flopping onto it. You buried your face in the sheets, smelling the light flora scent of the soap they used for cleaning emanating from it.

"..."

You did nothing as you laid on your stomach on the bed, basking in the silence. Your mind raced, thinking about tomorrow night. Two years ago, when you first arrived in Ebreau, you'd never thought you'd ever have the need to meet with the Royal family but now, not only was your presence going to be tomorrow night's highlight, you were going to perform for them too!

You groaned loudly into the sheets. The stress was getting to you. "Being Messiah is so difficult..." You mumbled, rubbing your face against the sheets as you coped with your anxiety.

However, the rough fabric of the veil prevented you from doing that too. You felt the sandy texture rubbed uncomfortably against your cheeks and nose. You huffed angrily as you reached up and yanked the veil off you. Throwing the golden headpiece onto the floor, you stuffed your face back into the sheets, actually feeling the softness of it this time.

The whole ordeal of shouldering the future of Ebreau as Messiah paired with the events of tomorrow night already gave you a big headache. You didn't need the extra challenge of wearing something so incredibly inconvenient!

Who came up with the idea of dancing with a veil on?!

"Stupid protocol making me dance like a monkey in a veil..." You clicked your tongue and complained. "How am I going to do this..." You sighed into the bed.

Your whole experience made you realised just how hard it was to be in a high position like this. How did Zephyr survive so many years being saint? It's only been a month since you became Messiah and you felt like you were going to break apart already.

You flipped over on the bed, facing the ceiling. "Calm down." You whispered to yourself, lightly slapping yourself on both cheeks to make yourself snap out of it. Complaining and stressing over it like this wasn't going to solve your problems. You just had to take it one step at a time.

Even if these steps were big strides.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself rest.

It'll be fine. You'll do fine.

You reassured yourself.

Zephyr's done it before so it's definitely possible. It has to be.

You thought, convincing yourself that dancing with the veil on won't kill you.

I just have to control my breathing and-“Believe only what thou sees, lamb.”

You sprang up from the bed, frantically looking around your room for the source of the voice. You quickly recomposed yourself once you realised that it was Calerus that just spoke to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words.

What do you mean?

You thought in your mind.

“What goes unseen is but an illusion.”

Calerus' voice rumbled in your head once more. Even with his elaboration, it was still too vague for you to understand. You asked for more but you were met with silence. It seemed Calerus was done talking to you.

Believe in what I see? Is that what he means?

You tried to make sense of the god's words and why he said them but nothing clicked. In the midst of your pondering, a knock came from your bedroom door.

"I've brought your dinner, Lady (y/n)." Zephyr's familiar voice came from outside.

You pushed yourself onto your feet and went to the door, halting your wondering of the deity's warning.

That could wait for now.

It was dinner time.

~✟~

"Pardon?!" You let out as your eyes went wide. You had just woken up and were having a peaceful breakfast when Zephyr just broke the most ground shaking news to you. "We will be leaving for the Royal palace after you finished breakfast and get dressed." Zephyr repeated and you almost choked on your food.

"I thought we were going this afternoon! Isn't the ceremony tonight? Why are leaving now?!" You asked, feeling absolutely distraughted. You thought you still had the entire morning to prepare and calm yourself! That was why you got up so early in the first place!

"The ceremony is tonight, yes," Zephyr scooted his chair closer to you, patting your back as an effort to calm you down. "but you need to be meet with queen and prince so we need to go early before they get busy with welcoming guests." He explained.

"Won't I be meeting them tonight? Why do I need to go see them now?" You asked, perplexed by this turn of events and desperate to find a way to delay this meeting as much as possible. Zephyr looked down at the table, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence to you. "Tonight's ceremony is more of a show to the public than it is an official meeting, Lady (y/n)." You cocked your head to the side. "I don't understand..."

"Take it as the name suggests. A ceremony. All ceremonies are rehearsed beforehand so everyone involved knows what to do when the time comes." Zephyr explained as he ran a hand though your hair. "The real meeting between you and the Royal family is done in private with only you and them present." You felt like you were going to throw up from the stress.

Your plate was still relatively full but you've already lost your appetite after this reveal. You even requested for something nice and fancy to eat this morning to help with the nerves.

Guess it's all going to waste now.

"I..I'm full now." You mumbled and pushed the plate away. You got up from your seat but Zephyr grabbed onto your arm before you could take a step further. "But you've barely eaten anything, Lady (y/n)." He frowned.

"I don't feel like eating anymore." You admitted as you looked down, feeling guilty from wasting perfectly good food. Zephyr sighed as he stood up before taking you into a tight hug.

"You'll do great, Lady (y/n). Believe me." Zephyr whispered into your ear as he squeezed. Your eyes went wide in surprise at his words before slowly softening. You wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scene of Zephyr's robe wafted into your nose. It smelt of petrichor, calming and refreshing.

"Thank you..." You mumbled, feeling better.

A pair of lips pressed the top of your head as you felt Zephyr leaned down. You sighed softly.

No matter how tough it gets, you know you'll always have Zephyr.

~✟~

The sound of cheering was deafening outside of the carriage. Looking out the carriage window, you saw lines upon lines of people standing beside the road, jumping and waving with big smiles on their faces. You waved back, trying your best to ensure no one is ignores or left out (though it was impossible with the amount of people present).

Horses pulled your carriage along the cobblestone road, their neighs occasionally penetrating the cheers and yells of the crowd, reaching your ears within your ride. Nuns and monks led the procession towards the Royal palace, walking in front while holding various chimes and bells that you've never seen before. The ringing of these instruments accompanied the way as if they were some sort of beat to follow.

Zephyr sat across from you, gazing out the window too with a soft smile on his lips. He stayed silent, letting you take in the adoration the people of Ebreau wanted to show you. His hair was tied up in a ponytail (he did that a lot ever since your accidental compliment on it) and his bangs fluttered gently from the breeze blowing into the carriage.

"Miss Messiah!"

In the midst of the dissonant voices, a certain call, low but clear shot through the air and caught your attention. The familiar pitch urged your curiosity to look for the source. And so you looked. Near the back of the crowd, a man, taller than the rest, stood out as he yelled again with a hand beside his mouth.

"Thank you!"

It was faint but you could make out his words. His structure seemed familiar. Squinting your eyes, you honed in on his face.

It was Mr. Citris!

Grinning, Mr. Citris looked beside him with a finger pointed at you. A person stood at his side, though their smaller frame causes them to be blocked by the people in front, besides from the top of their blond head, you could not see any other features. From your faraway position, you saw Mr. Citris spoke to the person beside him before bending down and picking them up.

A young girl came into view as Mr. Citris held her by her waist and lifted her up in front of him. A bashful flush spread across the young girl's face, seemingly embarrassed by her father's antics. The two exchanged a few more words before the girl eventually turned towards you. She waved with a smile.

The realisation finally dawned on you and you almost slapped yourself for being so slow.

That girl is Mr. Citris' daughter!

The girl's complexion was light but not sickly. Her smile was small yet bright. She looked...Well. Mr. Citris must have use the gold coins to buy the medicine. Even then, the medicine doesn't cure her, only slows down and eases the pain which means...She went out of her way to come see you despite her condition.

A warmth spread through your chest. The thought that you successfully helped someone, even just a little bit, was just the affirmation you needed.

Maybe you weren't hopeless.

You waved back, hoping they would see your reaction and how happy you were that things worked out. You smiled, grinned even.

Ah, wait.

They can't see you smile.

They can't see your face at all.

The veil swayed gently in front of your face following the shaking of the carriage.

The joy you felt a moment ago dissipated as quickly as it arrived. You deflated like a balloon but you waved back nonetheless (albeit somewhat dispiritedly).

Your carriage eventually passed the pair and they disappeared into the crowd. Your vision was once again filled with never-before-seen faces of strangers and your ears flooded with their unfamiliar yells.

Everything had been new to you when you were promoted to Messiah. New lifestyle, new responsibilities, new outlook, the list goes on. For this procession, you had hoped to find some familiarity, some remnant of the past to remind you that you weren't always Messiah, that not long ago you were among these crowds of people.

But looking at the sea of people, you didn't even see any guards in black uniform, guards of the Ordo Concordiae, your colleagues. They were perhaps the closest people you could call family in this place (as messed up as it is considering they basically forced you to work for them) yet you could only see white.

White of the uniforms of the Royal guards.

They stood along the road, ensuring no one cause trouble for the procession towards the palace, holding back any who dared to get too close. You continued to greet the onlookers albeit less enthusiastically.

"...Lady (y/n)."

Your head snapped towards Zephyr after he broke his silence. "Let us talk." You cocked your head to the side, confused by his sudden request. He drew the blinds to the window, isolating the both of you from the outside. “What is it?” You suddenly felt uneasy. Darkness shrouded the carriage but a few rays of light came through the gaps, illuminating Zephyr's face. His face was expressionless and lacking of warmth, unbefitting of his usual demeanour.

“…” He remained quiet and it agitated you further. Zephyr moved from his seat across from you to beside you, facing some difficulty standing up straight due to the low ceiling of the carriage. He shuffled to your side of the carriage and sat down. Your eyes followed him as he turned to you.

“…” He was still silent, his gaze dropping down towards the ground.

Cold sweat was beginning to form on your forehead. Seeing Zephyr so quiet and emotionless was concerning if not alarming. “Zephyr?” You called out, leaning in closer until you came into his peripheral, hoping that would finally catch his attention and prompt him to say what was on his mind.

He finally looked back up before reaching over to you. He grasped onto the hem of your veil and lifted it, revealing your golden eyes to him. “You’re worrying me, Zephyr. What is it?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. You grabbed onto Zephyr’s hands that were still holding your veil. “Why are you taking it off?” Zephyr simply shook his head and let go but not before making sure it wouldn’t fall back down and cover your face.

“I just…want to see your face, Lady (y/n). Just for a bit.” Zephyr explained, a small smile finally gracing his lips. You frowned, not convinced it was as simple as that. He took a breath before finally speaking. “Lady (y/n), no matter what happens when you meet with the queen and prince later,” He held your hands in his. “Please remember you’re already doing your best."

You blinked. “…What?”

Zephyr pulled you close and embraced you, pressing your head against his chest. He stroked your hair gently. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest, slow and steady. It'd even be calming if it weren't for the current situation. “You don’t have to fix every problem this kingdom has.” You looked up from his chest, eyes swirling with confusion. You pushed yourself off him. Zephyr doesn’t stop you but his arms remain in a loose hug around you.

“What does that mean?” Zephyr sighed and closed his eyes. “…The politics of Ebreau is more complicated than you think, Lady (y/n).” He reopened his eyes and his purple irises stared back into your golden ones. Unlike his, your heart was pounding inside of you, threatening to burst from the stress but you pushed on, knowing this was important. You had to know more. “Tell me then. Shouldn’t I know how this country functions if I am to guide its people?” You pestered for him to elaborate. You unconsciously gripped onto his robe, tensed about what he’ll say. Just how many more challenges were you going to face?

Zephyr’s hands went up to your face and cupped your cheeks. He leaned down, shortening the gap between both your faces. “The relationship between the royal family and the temple…isn’t as great as it seems.” Zephyr confessed. The cheering outside continued on even after your retreat into the carriage but right now, you wished it would stop so you could have some silence to process this information. You tried your best to respond. “What…what happened?”

Zephyr let go of your face before peeking out the blinds. You looked out the small opening between the blinds and windows over his shoulder. The people continued to celebrate the procession outside, their voices not appearing to die down any time soon. He readjusted the blinds and blocked out the people once more. He took a deep breath.

“Things started to get messy 3 years ago. After the war with the Casvians began." Zephyr recalled. "As with all wars, the kingdom has suffered many losses from this ordeal, including but not limited to economic downfalls and disharmony among its people." You nodded. That makes sense...But how did that cause the deterioration of the relationship between the temple and the Royal family?

"Much of Ebreau's money and resources have been sent to the front line in the northeast to aid in the battle with Casviren. The Royal family only has so much money to spare now and they cannot effort to spend it on unnecessary groups or organisations." He fidgeted in his place. It was clear this was a sensitive and top secret topic. You could see glints of worry reflected in his eyes as he spoke. Zephyr was afraid of this information being leaked to the public.

"The temple maintains the people's belief in our Lord, Calerus, ensuring their undying loyalty to him. A common religion fosters unity and reduces dispute among the people as everyone shares the same principle and belief." Zephyr elaborated. You processed his words, keeping your head bowed in thought before asking. "So, basically, the temple is responsible for keeping the peace among the citizens?"

"Yes, that's a good way to put it." A smile graced Zephyr's lips, easing the tension in the air. "But many tragedies have occurred. Much blood has been spilled and even more tears have been shed. The war has raged on for too long and too fiercely. It has made a grave impact on the people, not just economically but also spiritually." He sighed. "They are starting to lose faith. Some even believe Calerus has abandoned Ebreau." Zephyr played with your hair. It appeared unfitting of the situation at first but looking at how he was rubbing and pinching the tip of it instead of twirling it like how he usually does, you guessed he was doing it out of anxiety and not playfulness.

Your mind spun as you tried to piece together the information. You never knew the beliefs of Ebreauans were waning. Have you just not been out and about enough? Surely not. You ran errands everyday for the past 2 years. You were always outside and mixing with the folks. Then that means either you're an unobservant idiot or you've never seen Ebreau when it was still prosperous.

The war started 3 years ago and you only got dropped here 2 years ago. 1 year may not be enough to put a dent, economy wise in a kingdom as wealthy as Ebreau but you don't doubt it's enough to instill fear and cause hysteria among the people.

Perhaps you've never seen the true glory of Ebreau.

Perhaps you've jumbled the chaos with the mundane.

Perhaps this madness has become your normal.

"The temple is losing influence, is that what you're saying?" You muttered and, to your dismay despite expecting it, Zephyr nodded. "Our Lord, Calerus," he sighed, "is no longer a tie that binds the nation together." He looked away before closing his eyes. "We no longer have the means to maintain the peace like we used to." It hurt him to admit this.

"..." You were deep in thought and thankfully, Zephyr was more than willing to give you space to process everything.

People are scared and confused. The war with the Casvians has gone on for 3 years already and currently, it still shows no signs of stopping. The commonfolks are grasping at anyone and anything for guidance in this desperate time. They look towards those in charge, in this case, the Royal family and the temple for assurance and direction, for a spark of hope that they will get through this. But when that fails...

It's not going to end well for the higher ups.

Zephyr took a deep breath and continued. "The palace considers us inept and are an extra weight that burdens them when they already have so much on their hands." The carriage rattled as it went over, what you assume to be, a rock. "Communication between the temple and palace has decreased to when absolutely necessary over the years and collaborations happen only to uphold the act that Ebreau is co-ruled by the temple and royal family." He explained further.

"I..." Zephyr paused midsentence and your breath hitched, awaiting what terrible news he will relay on you next. "I expect them to cut ties with us soon." You suppressed the urge to jump out the carriage this instant and run back to the temple-no, back to the small, little house you rented before you became Messiah. Before everything went haywire.

You buried your face into your hands. This was all too much. It went from bad to worse to horrible. It's been a constant downward spiral these back few days.

Don't cry, (y/n). Don't cry.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you towards their chest. Zephyr hugged you as he caressed you. His hand going up and down your back as he comforted. "I'm sorry to burden you with so much, Lady (y/n)." You felt him gripping onto your clothes. "I don't expect you to fix these problems. They've been festering for too long." He kissed your head.

"Maybe this country is already beyond salvation."

Your hands felt weak and fell from your face as he murmured into your ear. This kingdom... Ebreau... Your home...

How do you save it?

~✟~

The palace was just in view as the horses trotted closer, leading the carriage from the cobblestone road of the central town to the tiled pathway within the castle compound. Royal guards dressed in their white uniforms continued to stand guard beside the pathway just as they did when you were still on the streets of the central town. However, now with the revelation that people from the palace have a sour (to put it nicely) relationship with the temple, the blank stares of these men felt a lot more menacing and frightening than they previously were.

You met eyes with a certain guard on duty beside the pathway and it could be paranoia speaking but you swore there was ill intent behind those eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you quickly adverted your eyes to elsewhere.

Zephyr was still seated next to you, not moving despite already finished telling you the situation with the Royal family. You didn't mind though, you needed the emotional support for what was about to come.

The palace was mostly white in colour, its roof golden and its doors wooden but painted with silver, so were the window frames. As you inched closer, you could make out figures standing in front of the main entrance.

You gulped.

The carriage came to a stop. Zephyr stepped out first before holding his hand out for you to take. You slowly reached over, scooting towards the open door before stepping down the steps of the carriage, your hand in his.

Your heart was racing and you mentally counted to yourself before lifting your head to meet the gazes of the people before you.

“Messiah, we are so delighted that you’re here.” A silky and smooth voice poured from the mouth of the woman in front of you. The woman had light brown hair, done up into a side bun which hung low and near to her face. She wore a light blue gown, embellished with white pearls and clear crystals around the waist and also the skirt of the gown. She smiled, a few wrinkles appearing around the corners of her ruby eyes. “I am Marika Sinnyala.” She introduced herself, leaving out her title.

Queen.

Marika held up her hand and gestured to the person standing beside her. A younger man, tall and slim. He wore a uniform similar to the royal guards except his was silver, not white and there were some black embroidery around the collar. He had the same red eyes and a face resembling hers albeit it was more masculine. It wasn’t hard to tell who he was and what his relationship with Marika is.

“This is my dear son, Xion Sinnyala.”

The prince strode over, his white hair bouncing gently on his head. A mark of royalty as some would say. As was gold the colour of the divine, white was the colour of royalty. The Sinnyala family had ruled Ebreau for centuries alongside the temple. A striking characteristic of the Sinnyalas were their white as snow hair. It’s speculated that that’s why white symbolises royalty. It wouldn’t be far fetched that as time went on, Ebreauans associated that colour with power and luxury. Most past rulers of the kingdom had that colour of hair after all.

Even the late king.

Xion stopped right in front of you. He reached for your hand, grabbing onto it as he leaned down. His touch was feathery light, you could barely feel it.

It was almost as if he was avoiding touching you.

You resisted the urge to pull your hand back as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His other hand rested behind his back. To outsiders, it may have appeared as a friendly gesture. A greeting from a prince to a maiden. Gentlemanly and almost fairytale like. You admit. Something like this, normally would get your heart racing and cheeks flushing.

But Xion, he was staring right at you as he did so.

The mother and son pair may share the same coloured eyes but Queen Marika’s were soft and friendly as she greeted you. Prince Xion, on the other hand, his eyes were piercing and fierce, his gaze felt like a glare. His actions seemed gentle and welcoming but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

You suddenly felt grateful for the veil you were wearing as your lips trembled.

His soft lips finally left your skin but he did not stand back up. Still in a bowed position, his voice, low and crisp, sounded.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Messiah.”

Another voice echoed from within the deep chambers of your mind at the same time, almost overlapping with the prince’s.

“Beware the Heretics.”

~✟~

Ahhhh done! Finally! This chapter was so hard to write since it was less action and more lore heavy. But finally it’s done! I was supposed to get this up yesterday but my body straight up went “hey wouldn’t it be funny to make her sick?” So yeah. That kinda slowed me down a bit. Sorry and thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoyed ^^

Ps: I decided to change the colour for Messiah from blue to orange since it suited better so I’ll go back and change the ones in previous chapters afterwards. Oh and again, any errors you find, let me know so I can correct them!

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@ursinaw @ceeesxy-blog @deepinballs @vash-yuu @fairy-lenaa @fleurescentlight @surprisemodafakas @cerisearan @avyannasstuff @justabratsworld @m0chilattae @sirenetheblogger @rosesunderthegarden @party-9 @waywardstardustcollector @crnnbrry-blog @iamapotatoe @altumsomnum @liesatemyocean @tired-of-life-86 @takottai @alexatiu

please tell me if I missed anyone!

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badfacemron · 3 months ago

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Sola

La canción "Sola" de Saramalacara trata sobre la sensación de soledad y el deseo de encontrar independencia emocional en medio de relaciones complicadas o circunstancias personales difíciles. A lo largo de la canción, Saramalacara expresa emociones de vacío, desilusión y la lucha interna por mantener la fortaleza mientras lidia con sus propias inseguridades y con el comportamiento de otros.

Aunque no de manera explícita, la canción puede resonar con quienes atraviesan situaciones de angustia emocional. Como otras canciones de Saramalacara, "Sola" puede tener una carga emocional que vincula el dolor interno con la expresión externa de ese sufrimiento, como a través de la melancolía o la autodestrucción emocional (un tema que aparece en varias de sus canciones).

#llorar #heraldica #saramalacara #ripgang #angel number 333 #badfacesara #rojuu

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stuckwthem · 1 year ago

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literally in love with the idea of juani & reader just making out on set of lsdln before he’s about to get his hair & makeup done >3<

café y caramelo | juani caruso

summary: un pequeño vistazo a la rutina con juani en las mañanas de set, o mejor dicho, la razón por la que siempre llegan atrasados. 1.4k

fue muy rápido, una hora estabas caminando tranquilamente por los camerinos en dirección al trabajo y a la siguiente te metían en una habitación, sin avisar, sin sospechar, y de repente te encontrabas contra la puerta y unos ojos azules profundos muy familiares se clavaban en los tuyos, con un brillo travieso en la mirada.

"¡ai juani!", exclamaste, llevándote la mano al pecho, sintiendo cómo el corazón se te aceleraba contra las costillas. la sensación del susto reverberaba en los latidos de tu corazón, que oías resonar en tus oídos. "¡no puedes seguir asustándome así!".

fingiendo una falsa frustración, una mueca permanecía en su rostro mientras la sonrisa de juani no hacía más que aumentar. el chico, tratando de esquivar su ceño fruncido, rodeó sus caderas con los brazos, abrazándola fuertemente contra la puerta y le dio un tierno beso, luego apartó la cara para poder mirarla. estaba prácticamente vestido con su disfraz, aún tenía que maquillarse y peluquearse, y sabía que ya había pasado la hora de que estuviera allí.

"estás preciosa con esa cara de enojada", juan tenía una amplia y tonta sonrisa en la cara, que se reflejaba en su expresión boba y apasionada mientras te miraba. era una visión a la que ya estabas acostumbrada y que siempre te llenaba el pecho de una sensación cálida y deliciosa.

"te odio" lo intentó, pero no pudo contener la risa, así que tuvo que morderse el labio. tus manos se dirigieron hacia el pecho del actor en un intento sin esfuerzo de alejarte de él.

juani, aprovechando su guardia baja, no perdió el tiempo y llevó sus labios a su cuello, debilitando todo su cuerpo, como una maldita táctica, para luego dirigirse a su barbilla y finalmente, a sus labios. no satisfecho, continuó plantando tiernos besos por todo el resto de su cara, provocando auténticas risas en usted. para él, era como escuchar una melodía suave y agradable, que siempre hacía mucho más ligeras las agotadoras y largas jornadas de grabación.

tenerte cerca durante las grabaciones fue una bendición absoluta para juani. os conocisteis en el set, os hicisteis íntimos en la primera semana y desde entonces no os habéis separado. de hecho, le fue muy difícil mantenerse alejado contigo como asistente de maquillaje.

"¿todavía me odias?", preguntó el hombre de pelo ondulado con tono divertido y un brillo en los ojos, tomándose un respiro por un momento tras una sesión apreciando tu rostro.

"un poco menos, un muy poco menos", dejaste caer tu rostro a un lado y deslizaste tus manos por los hombros del chico, que tomó tus palabras como un desafío.

los ojos de juani se abrieron de par en par, indignado, y te puso la mano en el pecho, haciéndose el ofendido. nunca deja de hacerte reír, y con tu forma de actuar con él es como si no tuvieras control sobre ninguno de los músculos de su cara que esbozan una sonrisa.

"yo sé cómo resolver esto", dice, con expresión decidida y las cejas levantadas. tú le imitas, alzándole las cejas y, naturalmente, vuestras caras se acercan cada vez más hasta que vuestras frentes se presionan.

"¿sabes?", le preguntas mientras tu nariz roza suavemente la suya, provocativamente. tu voz sale más como un susurro debido a la cercanía, soplada sobre los labios de juan, que ahora te sujeta la cintura un poco más fuerte, hundiendo sus dedos en el espacio de piel que hay entre tu camiseta y tus pantalones.

un pequeño escalofrío te recorre la espalda al contacto de sus dedos fríos sobre tu piel, y no te cuesta demasiado ablandarte entre los brazos de tu novio, sobre todo cuando sus labios, cálidos y suaves, chocan con los tuyos tan lenta y suavemente que jadeas. los besos eran siempre suaves y dulces, besarle era como saciar una sed infinita en tu interior que te hacía anhelar más cada vez.

"vas a tardar" murmuras entre besos, un poco sin aliento y mareada "vamos a tardar".

sueltas una risita mientras intentas ser racional, pero el chico se limita a rodar los ojos, haciendo un gesto de que no le importa.

"sólo cinco minutos más", dice socarronamente, atrapando tus labios de nuevo, pero sin ninguna prisa. cinco minutos podrían haberse convertido fácilmente en diez, pero ambos eran demasiado ajenos al tiempo.

los dedos de juani se deslizaron dentro de tu camisa y acariciaron suavemente la base de tu espalda, añadiendo algo más al beso que te hizo querer derretirte contra su cuerpo. apenas te diste cuenta de que estabas de puntillas hasta que te tiró al brazo del sofá, sentándote entre sus piernas. sus manos encontraron tu cara, sujetándola suavemente, ayudando a intensificar el beso. las yemas de sus dedos ejercen poca presión sobre sus mejillas, pero mantienen su cara lo suficientemente cerca como para que él pueda ordenar hábilmente el movimiento de sus labios.

el desliza su lengua bajo la tuya y pequeñas centellas recorren tu cuerpo como chispas, suficientes para hacerte suspirar entre beso y beso. juani sabe a café y caramelo, y disfrutas explorando cada rincón de su boca mientras sus lenguas bailan en armonía. es fácil perderse en esa sensación, en la calidez de sus labios y la suavidad de su mano sujetando tu cara, y con los ojos cerrados, pareces bucear en busca de más.

tus manos recorren los brazos de juani hasta llegar a sus rizos, y el chico se estremece bajo tu tacto cuando siente tus dedos recorrer su cuero cabelludo. respira hondo por un momento, sintiéndose embriagado por su aroma y la sensación de sus labios suaves y adictivos. ese no sería el único beso del día, por supuesto, juani volvería a besarte a escondidas entre cortes de grabación, cuando vengas a retocarle el maquillaje, o después de comer, mientras los chicos se distraen viendo algún partido en la tele, y seguro que te besaría un millón de veces más en el hotel, pero aun así, teme perderte ni un segundo en esa rutina.

el ruido fuera, en el pasillo, empieza a acercarse cada vez más, reconoces la risa de pipe y la voz de enzo, y sabes que te estás quedando cada vez más atrás, ya que se dirigen a maquillarse. esto te ayuda a recuperar la cordura, y empujas ligeramente a juani, tan resistente como él a deshacerse el uno del otro. él también sabe lo mucho que te gustaría pasar el día así, pero el trabajo llama.

con besos lentos, te suelta la cara, como si le costara soltarte. es como intentar salir de la cama en una mañana fría cuando estás bajo las cubiertas calentitas. tortuoso.

luego, en un último besito, te atrapa el labio inferior con el diente y te lo muerde suavemente, sólo para burlarse de ti, anticipándose a la sonrisa coja que tendrás poco después. en respuesta, tu mano le da una palmada en el trasero al chico, que gruñe y se aparta completamente de ti.

"¿cómo tratas a tu novio? que te ha traído café". juani devuelve ese tono de falsa ofensa, retrocediendo hasta la estantería y cogiendo el vaso caliente para entregártela.

todas las mañanas se empeña en recogerte el café de la cafetería que te gusta, porque juani sabe cuánto odias el café amargo y fuerte que tienen en el set. con una sonrisa de agradecimiento, coges el café y le das un sorbo, sintiendo cómo el sabor a canela se extiende por tu lengua y calienta todo tu cuerpo.

"sabes que no puedes usar eso como excusa, ¿no?", le dices, mirándole por debajo de las pestañas mientras bebes otro sorbo.

"¿qué?", pregunta juani, como si no lo supiera. saltas del brazo del sofá al mismo tiempo que él abre la puerta del camerino y se asegura de que no hay nadie en el pasillo.

"que llegas tarde por qué fue buscar café, esa mentira se está quedando un poco vieja", bromeas de pie en el umbral de la puerta, entre él y el pasillo.

el de los ojos azules sonríe, baja la cabeza y la sacude negativamente. "bueno, no soy un mentiroso total, ¿eh? al menos miento mejor que tú".

camináis por el pasillo, mientras juani se ajusta el cuello de su traje, tú intentas alisar la arruga de su ropa. se os escapa una risa cómplice mientras os miráis furtivamente, es difícil resistir el impulso de arrastrarle de nuevo a ese camerino, o de no cogerle de la mano mientras camináis, pero vuestras manos chocan entre sí dos o tres veces. podrías acostumbrarte, eso seguro. todas esas mañanas de momentos robados y besos con sabor a café.

"oye", te llama juani, justo cuando estás a punto de entrar en la sala de maquillaje. te roba otro besito rápido y luego desliza el pulgar por la comisura de tu labio, limpiando los restos de espuma del capuchino. " nos vemos luego, ¿eh?"

espero que lo hayan gostado! feliz san valentin atrasado, mis amores <3

#juani caruso #juani caruso x reader #juan caruso #juan caruso x reader #juani caruso fluff

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rhactividades · 2 months ago

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ACTIVIDAD 003: los días libres.

LOCACIÓN: Lautersee, Suiza.

CÓDIGO DE VESTIMENTA: Informal.

FECHA: 7 al 13 de febrero del 2025.

CLIMA: Alrededor de los 8° C.

Un día después del evento del festival de caridad, las familias más influyentes de Lautersee tomaron una decisión que, aunque bien intencionada, no pudo deshacer el nudo de tensión que colgaba sobre la ciudad. En un intento por calmar las aguas revueltas y reducir la creciente incertidumbre, les ofrecieron a sus hijos la oportunidad de salir de Lautersee por unos días. La esperanza era clara: un breve respiro de la ciudad podría ayudar a mitigar el peso de las protestas y la creciente desconfianza que empezaban a rodear a La Sociedad.

Los jóvenes recibieron la opción de regresar a sus antiguas ciudades o, si preferían, disfrutar de unas pequeñas vacaciones en algún rincón apartado, lejos de las miradas curiosas y el constante murmullo de la calle. Pero ni los días de descanso, ni el alejamiento temporal, fueron suficientes para desactivar la tensión que ya había hecho raíces profundas.

Los manifestantes no se disiparon. En lugar de desaparecer, se instalaron con más fuerza, eligiendo el perímetro de las puertas del Raven's Heart Club como su nuevo punto de reunión. Desde allí, su presencia no solo era constante, sino también inquebrantable. A medida que pasaban los días, el ambiente se fue tornando irrespirable, hasta que el Raven's Heart, en un gesto desesperado por protegerse de la presión, tuvo que cerrar sus puertas para todos sus miembros.

Fueron días de completa incertidumbre, donde la ciudad parecía estar a punto de romperse bajo la tensión acumulada. Astor Caldwell, el presidente, seguía sin aparecer. Nadie sabía a ciencia cierta cuál era su paradero, ni si la situación lo había logrado afectar de alguna manera. En su lugar, fue su hijo, Sebastian Caldwell, quien tuvo que enfrentar la presión. En una pequeña rueda de prensa improvisada frente a la sede del Raven's Heart, con los manifestantes observando en el fondo, Sebastián se presentó con la misma postura que su padre, fría y calculadora. Afirmó que estaban trabajando en llegar a un acuerdo con los manifestantes, pero que por ahora, no había nada concreto que pudieran ofrecer. Sus palabras carecían del peso que todos esperaban, y solo incrementaban la sensación de desconcierto.

Mientras la ciudad se desmoronaba bajo la creciente presión de la protesta, un mensaje, como una inesperada tregua, apareció en la aplicación del club. La invitación al evento anual de San Valentín fue enviada. Un respiro, o tal vez una señal de normalidad en medio del caos. Los hijos de los miembros de La Sociedad sabían lo que esto significaba: tendrían que regresar a Lautersee, sin importar cuánto deseaban alejarse de la ciudad y de su creciente inestabilidad.

El regreso fue gradual. Los primeros comenzaron a volver el 5 de febrero, y algunos más tarde el 6 de febrero, todos con el mismo sentimiento: Lautersee no era la misma ciudad de antes.

Los manifestantes seguían desfilando por las calles y el Raven's Heart permanecía cerrado, casi como un símbolo de la crisis de liderazgo que atravesaba La Sociedad. La presencia de Astor seguía ausente, y la otra parte de La Sociedad parecía estar tambaleando bajo la falta de dirección. Los miembros más longevos, aquellos que siempre habían sido el pilar de la organización, también se mantenían al margen, ausentes de la escena.

Con unos días de libertad antes de la fiesta de San Valentín, los futuros herederos se encontraron con una ciudad que había cambiado un tanto bajo el peso de la tensión. Mientras el día del evento se acercaba, la sensación de que algo más estaba por suceder, algo que cambiaría para siempre el rumbo de Lautersee, seguía flotando en el aire. A pesar de los intentos por hacer regresar la normalidad, los ecos del desorden no dejaban de resonar.

INFORMACIÓN OOC.

¡Buenas tardes, cuervos! Les traemos la tercera actividad del grupal, que esperamos que disfruten tanto como nosotras lo hicimos al planearla. Les pedimos que, por favor, lean los siguientes puntos para evitar dudas. Aunque, en caso de que las tengan, nuestro buzón está siempre abierto para responderlas.

Como habrán leído, los miembros de La Sociedad tuvieron la oportunidad de tomar unos días libres de Lautersee, ya sea para regresar a sus ciudades o disfrutar de unas cortas vacaciones. ¡Queda a su elección! También existe la posibilidad de que hayan preferido quedarse en la ciudad y no viajar.

El regreso a Lautersee fue solicitado nuevamente por sus familias entre los días establecidos anteriormente: el 5 y 6 de febrero. Además, todos fueron invitados al festejo de San Valentín, que se llevará a cabo en la próxima actividad.

El desarrollo de esta actividad se llevará a cabo en un lapso de varios días, del 7 al 13 de febrero. Ustedes son libres de decidir en cuál de esas fechas ambientan sus interacciones en esta ocasión.

Tipo de starters: sentence starters y memes. Si desean recibir, deberán darle reblog a las publicaciones que compartiremos por este mismo blog en unos minutos. Cuando quieran dejar de recibir, tendrán la opción de eliminar el reblog de los memes/sentence starters. ¡No ignoren a nadie al enviar!

Duración de la actividad: 10 días, finalizando el 17 de febrero.

¡Son libres de compartir las vestimentas de sus personajes!

Les pedimos, por favor, que vayan habilitando la opción del anónimo en sus buzones. Hoy mismo les haremos llegar el nombre del personaje del que deberán ser su San Valentín Secreto, y les recordamos que la actividad se llevará a cabo a través de mensajes en los buzones de forma anónima.

¡Gracias por leer, que se diviertan!

#rh: actividad.#actividad 003.

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dariann-garcia · 1 year ago

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Escribo para llenar mis vacíos, y la magia de Tumblr es que también busca resonar en los vacíos de otros.

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shactividades · 4 months ago

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CAPÍTULO 08: UNA VIDA POR UNA VIDA

Ambientación: 17 al 30 de Noviembre.

Clima: Nublado/Tormentas eléctricas.

Vestimenta: Pañuelo blanco obligatorio.

Despiertas en el mismo lugar. La luz gris entra por la cortina, el reloj marca 6:32. Te levantas, sin sorpresa, como siempre. La misma rutina, los mismos movimientos automáticos. Te miras en el espejo. La misma cara, la misma expresión vacía.

La ducha te toca la piel, pero no te despierta. Sales y el día comienza, otra vez. Desayunas. Nada cambia. Todo se repite. Te arrastras al área de entrenamiento. Regresas al comedor.

No hay escape. El bucle sigue. Y otra vez, todo empieza de nuevo.

[...]

El tiempo dentro del refugio sigue siendo un eco, extraño y repetitivo. Los días se alargan, pero no avanzan. Todo parece transcurrir a la misma velocidad: las horas pasan sin que nada cambie, sin que nada se resuelva. Los heridos ya se han recuperado lo suficiente para participar en entrenamientos más intensos, pero las excursiones al exterior siguen suspendidas. El aire en el refugio se vuelve cada vez más pesado, cargado de una creciente ansiedad que nadie se atreve a nombrar. Los suministros empiezan a escasear lentamente, y la sensación de estar atrapados, inmóviles, se hace cada vez más palpable.

La rutina se ha vuelto insoportable. No hay descanso, no hay tiempo para detenerse a pensar. Los entrenamientos, las oraciones, las reparaciones de las defensas… todo parece un ciclo interminable. Sin embargo hay una actividad nueva que ha dominado los últimos días: la preparación de un banquete. No es un banquete cualquiera, sino uno que se siente como un ritual. Los ingredientes, escasos, se eligen con esmero, y cada preparación parece estar envuelta en un aire ceremonial. Los miembros del refugio trabajan juntos, pero el silencio pesa más que nunca. La atmósfera tiene algo solemne, como si cada gesto estuviera cargado de un simbolismo que muchos no logran entender del todo.

Mientras tanto, las tensiones internas crecen. Los murmullos se hacen más frecuentes, las miradas se cruzan más rápido, los pasos se aceleran. El refugio ya no es un lugar de paz, sino de agitación contenida. Y lo que todos sienten, aunque nadie lo diga en voz alta, es que algo se está acercando. El futuro es incierto y, por primera vez en mucho tiempo, la gente comienza a cuestionar qué les espera, no solo fuera de esas paredes, sino dentro de ellas.

En medio de este ambiente tenso, estalla una pelea. Dos hombres, visiblemente agotados por el confinamiento y la incertidumbre, se enfrentan en el comedor. Las palabras suben de tono, los empujones se hacen más violentos. La discusión, que comienza como un desacuerdo menor, rápidamente escala a algo mucho más grande, a una manifestación de la frustración general. Los demás observan en silencio, algunos con una leve incomodidad, otros con una evidente indiferencia. La violencia de la escena no es algo nuevo, pero esta vez es diferente.

Dos de los vigilantes, sin mediar palabra, se acercan rápidamente. Con una fuerza implacable, levantan a los hombres por el cuello y, casi sin esfuerzo, los echan al exterior. La puerta se cierra con un golpe seco, y el sonido del impacto parece resonar en los corazones de todos. Los hombres, ahora exiliados, no tienen tiempo para protestar. Sabían lo que estaba en juego. No solo desafiaron a la Madre Serena, sino también la autoridad de todo lo que representaba el refugio.

El silencio cae sobre el comedor, y la tensión se puede cortar con un cuchillo. Los ojos de los presentes se desvían al suelo, a las paredes, a cualquier lugar donde no se vean obligados a enfrentar lo que acaba de suceder. Nadie dice nada, pero todos lo saben: si no sigues las reglas, si te enfrentas a lo que la Madre Serena ha dispuesto, el exilio es la única opción. Y todos temen ese destino.

Al día siguiente, la Madre Serena se presenta ante todos, con su presencia serena y su voz firme. Se ha hablado de su fuerza, de su capacidad para tomar decisiones difíciles, pero nadie esperaba lo que diría ahora. Ella observa a la gente reunida, su mirada recorre cada rostro, asegurándose de que cada uno escuche lo que tiene que decir.

—La llegada de los sobrevivientes no es una casualidad —dice, su voz calmada pero autoritaria—. Es un mensaje claro de Dios. Nos ha mostrado el camino. Nos está diciendo que debemos salir al exterior. Es hora de enfrentarnos a lo que la ciudad oculta, a lo que el mundo nos pide que enfrentemos.

Un murmullo recorre la sala, y las miradas comienzan a cruzarse. Algunos se sienten incómodos con lo que está diciendo, otros claramente no están de acuerdo. La idea de salir al exterior, de enfrentarse a lo que queda de la ciudad, es aterradora. Los peligros son desconocidos, el riesgo es enorme. Y, por supuesto, el temor a lo que pueda suceder en el camino pesa sobre todos.

—Dios nos ha enviado una señal —continúa, su voz volviéndose aún más solemne—. Estos sobrevivientes, encontrados cerca del refugio, son prueba de que Él nos protegerá. No podemos seguir esperando dentro de estas paredes. Si no salimos ahora, si no buscamos lo que necesitamos para sobrevivir, no resistiremos el invierno.

Un hombre se atreve a levantar la voz, su tono cargado de frustración y miedo.

—¿Pero qué pasa si estamos condenados a salir? —su pregunta queda flotando en el aire, desafiante.

La Madre Serena lo mira fijamente, y en su rostro no hay ni ira ni miedo, solo una calma profunda que parece desterrar cualquier duda.

—La fe no siempre es fácil, hijo —dice con suavidad, pero con una autoridad inquebrantable—. Dios nos está guiando. La elección es clara: si nos rendimos a nuestros miedos, estamos condenados. No podemos vivir con miedo a lo desconocido.

Una pausa pesada cae sobre la sala. Nadie responde, pero el silencio está cargado de significados no dichos. Los ojos de todos se cruzan, y saben lo que esto significa. Si se niegan, si se resisten, serán exiliados. La decisión está tomada, pero el peso de ella aplasta a todos los presentes.

El refugio, que una vez fue su hogar y su protección, ahora se siente como una prisión. Y el banquete que han estado preparando, con tanto esmero, parece más un sacrificio que una celebración. Cada plato, cada movimiento, parece estar marcado por una ritualidad que deja entrever que no solo es un acto de gracias, sino una ofrenda ante lo que vendrá.

La decisión ya está tomada. La Madre Serena ha hablado. Y aunque algunos se resisten, saben que no tienen otra opción. Saldrán al exterior. Y lo harán bajo la protección divina que ella ha prometido. Pero, a medida que el silencio se extiende, una duda colectiva se cierne sobre ellos: ¿será esta una oportunidad de salvación o el último paso hacia la perdición?

Archivos anexos: Nuevos organización grupos y líderes, locaciones exteriores, cronología.

Tipo de desarrollo: Starters públicos y sentence starters.

Duración: 12 días, 18-29 de Diciembre.

TLDR; Ha pasado una semana desde que llegaron al refugio y por órdenes de Samuels tuvieron que permanecer encerrados después de haber perdido a varios miembros en una excursión el 9 de Noviembre. La paz en el refugio ya no es la misma. Los personajes están agitados e inconformes con el ambiente, los suministros escasean y todo ha empeorado al ser obligados a participar en un banquete ceremonial iniciado por Madre Serena. Mientras los personajes se acostumbran al cambio de ritmo en el refugio, un grupo de sobrevivientes aparece y se integra a La Nueva Era, siendo rostros conocidos para algunos de los presentes. Esta actividad es de sobrevivencia, unidad y dar gracias por la vida.

Cada usuario es libre de elegir qué tipo de starter publicar. Puede usar sentence starters, starter público o combinarlos. También puede darles una cronología que abarque todos los días de duración on-rol.

Cada pareja debe abrir un privado donde salgan al exterior a buscar suministros. En Discord se llevará a cabo una lanzada de dados para saber qué lugar deben recorrer y el resultado del a recolección. Les damos la oportunidad de hacer este privado + un starter aparte.

El código de vestimenta es libre pero deben usar un pañuelo blanco. Se les dio la oportunidad de entrar a las tiendas para conseguir mudas de ropa limpia. Los invitamos a subir sus ediciones al blog y etiquetarlos con el nombre de sus personajes.

¡Bienvenidos al inicio del fin! Esperamos la actividad sea del agrado de todos. Cualquier duda pueden consultarla directamente en el main de forma anónima o con cuenta.

#capítulo 8: una vida por una vida.

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