ashe's testing thread.




zoya a. i. sokolovsky



Zoya felt as if her world spun right before her eyes in a matter of a week. Of course, it took longer than a week, but there were many things came to fruition all at once. The beloved queen of Russia passed away, the king and citizenry mourned her death, and soon a carriage arrived requesting she come at once. She thought it was an odd request, as she was only apart of one of the many noble families and she never interacted with the king before. Nonetheless, her mother fussed over her and she rushed to the king.

The visit to the king was nerve-wracking. She waited patiently as the king conducted his prior audiences, but when she was finally ushered in, butterflies filled her stomach. She would rather fight a bear than stand in front of the king in that moment. When the king opened his lips and mentioned his fatherhood of her, Zoya was speechless. She always believed her father was the man her mother married, but she did wonder why both of them didn't have flaming red hair like hers. The more she examined the king, she saw much of herself in him. She had many questions, but was unable to ask them. The king carried on talking, and it was more respectful of her to listen patiently than to badger.

The king insisted Zoya be moved into the palace immediately, with plans for proper recognition of this bastard child, declaring her a rightful heir to the throne, and a coronation of princess of Russia. Everything occurred at once, thus a whirlwind of events spiraling out of the grasp of Zoya's mind. She remembered pieces of the following couple of weeks, but she wasn't sure what she was looking at. Her memory was fogging, full of lavish dinners, the announcement of her recognition and coronation, the introduction to her siblings and nobles close to the king. She was grateful to grow in a noble family, as little training was necessary.

The king held an extraordinary coronation for her. It was the late spring of 1856, a beautiful sunny day blessing the newly emerging princess. Zoya was bounced around from maid to maid to ready her for the coronation until it was time to usher her to a church to say her vows. The citizens lined the streets, guards keeping them at bay. They waved, screamed, and cried as she passed. Children ran past their mothers' skirts, chasing the carriage with flowers in their hands. As she rode in the carriage, her heart raced and her hands shook in nervousness. Her chest felt tight, giving her breathing difficulty.

Only few were let into the church to witness her coronation. The family she left behind sat in the front row, having a clear view of her. Zoya did her best to remain and look calm as she glided down the large aisle, a heavy crown atop her head, a scepter and sphere in either hand, and a large cape on her shoulders. She took her vows, ignoring the anxiety rushing through her veins. Her mind focused on her family, ignoring the rest of the nobles witnessing her emergence. The ceremony didn't take long, and she was amazed at how long it felt.

The king led Zoya up to a balcony of a church, where she would now become Princess Zoya Anastasia Irene Sokolovsky. When she appeared on the balcony, the crowd cheered loudly, quieting at a raise of the hand by the king. A royal messenger announced her title as Zoya smiled and waved at the crowd. Cheers rang throughout the town of in St. Petersburg, and she was sure they could be heard by all of Europe and in Asia. A weight lifted off of Zoya's shoulders that day, and she felt like a different woman. When her father leaned in, whispering of a banquet to celebrate her coronation and find her a match in marriage, she wasn't surprised. She was a little older than expected to be married, which meant it was only proper for her to have a husband quickly.

As soon as the guards could make way for the carriage to take the king and her back to the palace, and the carriage traversed the wave of civilians, Zoya found herself standing in her bedroom at the palace. She stood by her bed, clutching the bedpost tightly. A maid pulled the strings of her corset, a slight gasp in breath leaving her lips each time it tightened around her body. She thought the corsets her mother fastened on her were tight, but the royal ones were even tighter. She wasn't sure how she would be able to live tonight, but it would be embarrassing if she fainted.

Zoya allowed the maids to pull her red locks into a loose and low bun on the back of her head. Two strands in the front were curled closely to her face and a decorative comb was shoved into her hair. Her jewelry from the coronation was exchanged for gold and garnets. Garnet earrings hung from her ears, a matching necklace draped on her neck, and a ring slipped onto her finger. Once the jewelry was on, she was shoved into a beautiful red and gold gown, cut low to show off some of her bosom. Matching slippers were silpped onto her feet and it was time to make her appearance downstairs.

Zoya's older brother, Artyom, stood outside her door, regaled in military attire and adorned in some decorative badges. She took his arm, allowing her to take her down to the feast. She made conversation with him, thankful her new family was quick to accept her in their hearts. Before she was allowed in, she was showed off to the guests, and she was astonished at how many came to ask for her hand in marriage. Various cultures stood within that room, and she wondered what the price for her hand was. Pushing that thought from her mind, she went with her escort, going down to sit besides her father.

Zoya searched the room and danced with different men when asked. Some were handsome, but she couldn't tell how she felt about them. Others were not so handsome and made her want to bathe in the hottest of water when the night was over. After an hour and a half of dancing, she settled in the throne, a cup of wine in one hand, the other on the arm of the throne she resided in. She conversed with her father, taking a sip of her wine. As she took a sip of her wine, her eyes scanned the room and saw a handsome young man approaching them. She lowered the glass, watching him with intrigue. With her eyes still on the man and his ears possibly within range of her conversation, she asked her father, "Who is that handsome man that approaches us?"


[c] themysteriousashe.


  • ✦ ZOYA A. I. SOKOLOVSKY ✦
    yDMUNpM.png
    ✦ ✦ ✦
    Zoya felt as if her world spun right before her eyes in a matter of a week. Of course, it took longer than a week, but there were many things came to fruition all at once. The beloved queen of Russia passed away, the king and citizenry mourned her death, and soon a carriage arrived requesting she come at once. She thought it was an odd request, as she was only apart of one of the many noble families and she never interacted with the king before. Nonetheless, her mother fussed over her and she rushed to the king.

    The visit to the king was nerve-wracking. She waited patiently as the king conducted his prior audiences, but when she was finally ushered in, butterflies filled her stomach. She would rather fight a bear than stand in front of the king in that moment. When the king opened his lips and mentioned his fatherhood of her, Zoya was speechless. She always believed her father was the man her mother married, but she did wonder why both of them didn't have flaming red hair like hers. The more she examined the king, she saw much of herself in him. She had many questions, but was unable to ask them. The king carried on talking, and it was more respectful of her to listen patiently than to badger.

    The king insisted Zoya be moved into the palace immediately, with plans for proper recognition of this bastard child, declaring her a rightful heir to the throne, and a coronation of princess of Russia. Everything occurred at once, thus a whirlwind of events spiraling out of the grasp of Zoya's mind. She remembered pieces of the following couple of weeks, but she wasn't sure what she was looking at. Her memory was fogging, full of lavish dinners, the announcement of her recognition and coronation, the introduction to her siblings and nobles close to the king. She was grateful to grow in a noble family, as little training was necessary.

    The king held an extraordinary coronation for her. It was the late spring of 1856, a beautiful sunny day blessing the newly emerging princess. Zoya was bounced around from maid to maid to ready her for the coronation until it was time to usher her to a church to say her vows. The citizens lined the streets, guards keeping them at bay. They waved, screamed, and cried as she passed. Children ran past their mothers' skirts, chasing the carriage with flowers in their hands. As she rode in the carriage, her heart raced and her hands shook in nervousness. Her chest felt tight, giving her breathing difficulty.

    Only few were let into the church to witness her coronation. The family she left behind sat in the front row, having a clear view of her. Zoya did her best to remain and look calm as she glided down the large aisle, a heavy crown atop her head, a scepter and sphere in either hand, and a large cape on her shoulders. She took her vows, ignoring the anxiety rushing through her veins. Her mind focused on her family, ignoring the rest of the nobles witnessing her emergence. The ceremony didn't take long, and she was amazed at how long it felt.

    The king led Zoya up to a balcony of a church, where she would now become Princess Zoya Anastasia Irene Sokolovsky. When she appeared on the balcony, the crowd cheered loudly, quieting at a raise of the hand by the king. A royal messenger announced her title as Zoya smiled and waved at the crowd. Cheers rang throughout the town of in St. Petersburg, and she was sure they could be heard by all of Europe and in Asia. A weight lifted off of Zoya's shoulders that day, and she felt like a different woman. When her father leaned in, whispering of a banquet to celebrate her coronation and find her a match in marriage, she wasn't surprised. She was a little older than expected to be married, which meant it was only proper for her to have a husband quickly.

    As soon as the guards could make way for the carriage to take the king and her back to the palace, and the carriage traversed the wave of civilians, Zoya found herself standing in her bedroom at the palace. She stood by her bed, clutching the bedpost tightly. A maid pulled the strings of her corset, a slight gasp in breath leaving her lips each time it tightened around her body. She thought the corsets her mother fastened on her were tight, but the royal ones were even tighter. She wasn't sure how she would be able to live tonight, but it would be embarrassing if she fainted.

    Zoya allowed the maids to pull her red locks into a loose and low bun on the back of her head. Two strands in the front were curled closely to her face and a decorative comb was shoved into her hair. Her jewelry from the coronation was exchanged for gold and garnets. Garnet earrings hung from her ears, a matching necklace draped on her neck, and a ring slipped onto her finger. Once the jewelry was on, she was shoved into a beautiful red and gold gown, cut low to show off some of her bosom. Matching slippers were silpped onto her feet and it was time to make her appearance downstairs.

    Zoya's older brother, Artyom, stood outside her door, regaled in military attire and adorned in some decorative badges. She took his arm, allowing her to take her down to the feast. She made conversation with him, thankful her new family was quick to accept her in their hearts. Before she was allowed in, she was showed off to the guests, and she was astonished at how many came to ask for her hand in marriage. Various cultures stood within that room, and she wondered what the price for her hand was. Pushing that thought from her mind, she went with her escort, going down to sit besides her father.

    Zoya searched the room and danced with different men when asked. Some were handsome, but she couldn't tell how she felt about them. Others were not so handsome and made her want to bathe in the hottest of water when the night was over. After an hour and a half of dancing, she settled in the throne, a cup of wine in one hand, the other on the arm of the throne she resided in. She conversed with her father, taking a sip of her wine. As she took a sip of her wine, her eyes scanned the room and saw a handsome young man approaching them. She lowered the glass, watching him with intrigue. With her eyes still on the man and his ears possibly within range of her conversation, she asked her father, "Who is that handsome man that approaches us?"
 
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quincy e. abbasi



When Quincy found out he was engaged, he thought it would be on his terms and his terms only. He didn't think his parents would arrange him in a marriage without his input. Arranged marriages were so... old-fashioned. It was a modern age and society, where arranged marriages were hardly heard of. People were free to love whomever they wanted and choose who they wanted as a partner. Sadly, he didn't have a choice in this.

Quincy's parents informed him of his arranged marriage over dinner one evening. They wouldn't say to whom but casually brought it up like it wasn't a huge issue. Of course, Quincy reacted negatively to this. It was his job to choose who HE wanted to be with, not his parents' job. It could be a stranger for all he knew, as they were cryptic in regards to who his betrothed was. The meal was tense for the rest of the night, as Quince did his best not to shake the boat more than it was. He had no choice but to follow through with this decision of theirs. He wanted what was best for the company, but using his status of single didn't permit the choice they made.

Quincy's parents were still very cryptic the following week, not answering any questions of his. He wondered if his siblings knew anything, texting Laila, his twenty-eight-year-old sister, first. She didn't seem to know anything, at least, not within the time frame he fished for information. He was impatient, tapping his fingers against the glass side table as he waited to hear his phone go off. He knew his sister was busy, having a family of her own and working, but he needed to learn some information. Deciding he didn't want to wait for Laila, he texted Isra, his twenty-four-year-old sister. She knew a little bit about the engagement, but not a lot. She responded with It's one of the Marcel Industries heirs, but I forget how many they have. I know the grandfather tried to marry his granddaughter into the family, but you're gay, so that doesn't work.

After Laila responded, Quincy had a hard time trying to remember the Marcel heirs himself. He knew of his friend Anthony Marcel, but couldn't remember if he had any cousins or siblings that shared in the fortune. He figured he might as well invite the man to coffee, see what he knew. It wouldn't hurt to confide into his best friend about what was going on, after all, Quince kept to himself after he learned about his arranged marriage. His anger about the situation kept him from texting those important to him, and he knew he probably caused some pain to his friends. It wasn't fair to them to be left on read, especially his best friend.

Quincy didn't leave Anthony with a choice of whether or not he could do it. It was an immediate invitation, almost demanding him to meet Quin. He left his armchair, leaving his phone on the side table. It didn't take him long to get ready. A quick shower was all he needed before getting dressed. He did all of the other typical things of getting ready: doing his hair, brushing his teeth, spraying on some cologne. Once his shoes were on and his wallet was scooped up from the dresser, he ventured out into his living room, scooping up his phone. He didn't bother to check his phone, hoping Anthony would be there without complaint.

Quincy walked to his garage, one of his car keys from a basket beside the front door before he left and locked up his apartment. He took the stairs, needing a quicker mode of transportation than the elevator. It didn't hurt to get some steps in that day as well. He walked to his car, unlocking it with a press of a button once it was in sight. He got into his car, started it up, and was on his way. The drive to the coffee shop didn't take long, as it was a nearby joint. He parked his car, locked it, and got out, walking to the door. He noticed some people joined him from behind, so he held the door open for them before following inside. The line to order wasn't long and they were quick to get out orders. He ordered a chai tea, not feeling a coffee at that moment.

Once the tea was done and delivered to him, Quin sat down at a table and pulled out his phone, looking through emails. His eyes scanned the titles as he went through his emails, not seeing anything too important that he needed to respond to for work. He switched to scrolling through his social media, waiting for Anthony to arrive.


[c] themysteriousashe.


  • ✦ QUINCY E. ABBASI ✦
    di4B1F6.png
    ✦ ✦ ✦
    When Quincy found out he was engaged, he thought it would be on his terms and his terms only. He didn't think his parents would arrange him in a marriage without his input. Arranged marriages were so... old-fashioned. It was a modern age and society, where arranged marriages were hardly heard of. People were free to love whomever they wanted and choose who they wanted as a partner. Sadly, he didn't have a choice in this.

    Quincy's parents informed him of his arranged marriage over dinner one evening. They wouldn't say to whom but casually brought it up like it wasn't a huge issue. Of course, Quincy reacted negatively to this. It was his job to choose who HE wanted to be with, not his parents' job. It could be a stranger for all he knew, as they were cryptic in regards to who his betrothed was. The meal was tense for the rest of the night, as Quince did his best not to shake the boat more than it was. He had no choice but to follow through with this decision of theirs. He wanted what was best for the company, but using his status of single didn't permit the choice they made.

    Quincy's parents were still very cryptic the following week, not answering any questions of his. He wondered if his siblings knew anything, texting Laila, his twenty-eight-year-old sister, first. She didn't seem to know anything, at least, not within the time frame he fished for information. He was impatient, tapping his fingers against the glass side table as he waited to hear his phone go off. He knew his sister was busy, having a family of her own and working, but he needed to learn some information. Deciding he didn't want to wait for Laila, he texted Isra, his twenty-four-year-old sister. She knew a little bit about the engagement, but not a lot. She responded with It's one of the Marcel Industries heirs, but I forget how many they have. I know the grandfather tried to marry his granddaughter into the family, but you're gay, so that doesn't work.

    After Laila responded, Quincy had a hard time trying to remember the Marcel heirs himself. He knew of his friend Anthony Marcel, but couldn't remember if he had any cousins or siblings that shared in the fortune. He figured he might as well invite the man to coffee, see what he knew. It wouldn't hurt to confide into his best friend about what was going on, after all, Quince kept to himself after he learned about his arranged marriage. His anger about the situation kept him from texting those important to him, and he knew he probably caused some pain to his friends. It wasn't fair to them to be left on read, especially his best friend.

    Quincy didn't leave Anthony with a choice of whether or not he could do it. It was an immediate invitation, almost demanding him to meet Quin. He left his armchair, leaving his phone on the side table. It didn't take him long to get ready. A quick shower was all he needed before getting dressed. He did all of the other typical things of getting ready: doing his hair, brushing his teeth, spraying on some cologne. Once his shoes were on and his wallet was scooped up from the dresser, he ventured out into his living room, scooping up his phone. He didn't bother to check his phone, hoping Anthony would be there without complaint.

    Quincy walked to his garage, one of his car keys from a basket beside the front door before he left and locked up his apartment. He took the stairs, needing a quicker mode of transportation than the elevator. It didn't hurt to get some steps in that day as well. He walked to his car, unlocking it with a press of a button once it was in sight. He got into his car, started it up, and was on his way. The drive to the coffee shop didn't take long, as it was a nearby joint. He parked his car, locked it, and got out, walking to the door. He noticed some people joined him from behind, so he held the door open for them before following inside. The line to order wasn't long and they were quick to get out orders. He ordered a chai tea, not feeling a coffee at that moment.

    Once the tea was done and delivered to him, Quin sat down at a table and pulled out his phone, looking through emails. His eyes scanned the titles as he went through his emails, not seeing anything too important that he needed to respond to for work. He switched to scrolling through his social media, waiting for Anthony to arrive.
 
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hades, son of kronos



When Hades woke up Friday morning, he wasn't ecstatic by any means. First, it was four in the morning, his insomnia rising him early. Secondly, his brother's dreadful family gathering was that evening. He hated family gatherings, especially by Zeus. There was always some sort of drama to ensue at the family events. Sometimes, Hera and Zeus fought, other times someone else was the issue. Whatever it may be, he didn't like to be associate with his brothers, due to their infidelities and idiocy.

Hades grumbled softly, pushing the sheets aside. He slowly got out of bed, stretching any muscles that needed to be stretched. He made his way to the bathroom, patting the head of Cerberus on his way. He was quick to get into the shower, sitting under the warm water for a while before he actually cleaned himself. It was nice to feel the warm water cascade over his muscles, relaxing any tension in his body. He cleaned himself quickly, shutting the water off once he was done. He wrapped a towel around his waist, walking through the steam to his bedroom.

Hades dressed quickly, opting for the usual black suit and tie with a crisp, white shirt. He wore black dress shoes with black dress socks. He fastened a silver watch on his wrist, inserting navy blue cufflinks into the cuffs of his shirt after. He went back into the bathroom, styling his hair and spraying on some cologne before exiting his bedroom. He went to the kitchen, doing his daily routine: making himself a cup of coffee and something small for breakfast, feeding all the dogs, and gathering them up to go to daycare. Once all of his dogs were wrangled up in his car, yipping up a muck, he bid farewell to Cerberus, as he was the goodest boi(TM), and left. He dropped the other dogs at daycare and went to work, taking the scenic route. He didn't need to be there immediately.

Hades had a dull day at work. Nothing new happened except for lecturing Thanatos about his laziness on the job. He spent a day being king of the Underworld and dealing with whatever matters that needed his attention. The day was long, longer than it usually seemed, but perhaps Hades was being impatient. After all, he wanted it to go quickly so he could pop in and out of his brother's event.

After work, Hades popped by a liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine. He figured it would be rude if he didn't bring Zeus and Hera a gift since they were hosting the party. Once the fancy bottle of wine was secured, Hades picked up his dogs, yapping in his ears as he drove. The dogs yapped at anyone walking on the sidewalk or at people in other cars. He grumbled to himself about putting his dogs through obedience training once again. The ride to his home wasn't long after picking the dogs off, and he quickly brought them inside. He turned the television on for them, putting on something child-like. He filled their food bowls and water bowls before bidding each one farewell. The dogs were settled and happy, meaning he could be on his way.

Hades pulled out his phone on his way back to his car, seeing a message from Zeus. His dumb brother reminded him about where the event was held and whatever other bullshit he decided to send his brother. He responded with a simple "Okay." before hopping into his car once again. Hades took his sweet time getting to the venue, taking whatever route was the longest. He didn't bother picking up something to eat on his way there, as there would be little hors d'oeuvres to snack on. He knew he could attempt as much as he liked to escape quickly, but it wouldn't be possible. His dumb brothers would hold him hostage there until they talked his ear off.

Hades pulled up, parking his car himself. Sometimes he utilized valet service, sometimes he didn't. This evening, he didn't feel like using it, especially if he wanted to attempt a swift escape. Waiting for the valet to bring his car around opened up the possibility of more conversation. He didn't want to be stuck there longer than he felt like it. Once he stepped out of his car with the bottle of wine, he tucked his car keys in his pocket after locking the door. He walked up the stairs, the door being opened for him once he approached. He wasn't surprised by the loud music or the club atmosphere. It was typical Zeus.

Hades spotted his brothers instantly, but it was very hard to miss them. They stood proud and tall on a platform near the stage where the DJ played music. They always needed to be the center of attention. He slipped throught he crowd, traveling at a snail's pace to get to his brothers. Once he approached, the two loudly greeted him as he climbed onto the platform to stand with them. Zeus clapped his hand on his shoulder, and began to talk about whatever affair he had going on at that moment.

Hera was near by, thanking people for coming. When she spotted him, Hades smiled awkwardly and waved to her. She approached and he extended a hand to her, helping her on the stage. Zeus and Poseidon were entranced in their own conversation, which left Hades the opportunity to chat with Hera. He handed her the bottle of wine, not needing to say anything to her about it. He knew she would take it happily, whether or not he said anything.

"How are you, Bunny?" Hades inquired, hoping Hera was well.

"I'm doing as best as I can. You know how your brother is and being married to him is a miserable thing. However, this evening I have some special guests coming, and I haven't seen them-- Wait, there they are! I'm glad Demeter brought Persephone with her," Hera said, waving to an older and younger woman to approach. Hades turned his gaze in the direction Hera motioned to and he was left breathless. The younger woman was absolutely divine. By the gods, she was blessed with such unspeakable beauty, he felt a lump form in his throat. His cheeks flushed slightly, watching the two approach. His heart hammered in his ears and his jaw tightened, a stoic expression going to his features. He didn't want to intrude on Hera's conversation or say something stupid.


✦✦✦


  • ✦ HADES, SON OF KRONOS ✦
    MyHLLtI.png
    ✦ ✦ ✦
    When Hades woke up Friday morning, he wasn't ecstatic by any means. First, it was four in the morning, his insomnia rising him early. Secondly, his brother's dreadful family gathering was that evening. He hated family gatherings, especially by Zeus. There was always some sort of drama to ensue at the family events. Sometimes, Hera and Zeus fought, other times someone else was the issue. Whatever it may be, he didn't like to be associate with his brothers, due to their infidelities and idiocy.

    Hades grumbled softly, pushing the sheets aside. He slowly got out of bed, stretching any muscles that needed to be stretched. He made his way to the bathroom, patting the head of Cerberus on his way. He was quick to get into the shower, sitting under the warm water for a while before he actually cleaned himself. It was nice to feel the warm water cascade over his muscles, relaxing any tension in his body. He cleaned himself quickly, shutting the water off once he was done. He wrapped a towel around his waist, walking through the steam to his bedroom.

    Hades dressed quickly, opting for the usual black suit and tie with a crisp, white shirt. He wore black dress shoes with black dress socks. He fastened a silver watch on his wrist, inserting navy blue cufflinks into the cuffs of his shirt after. He went back into the bathroom, styling his hair and spraying on some cologne before exiting his bedroom. He went to the kitchen, doing his daily routine: making himself a cup of coffee and something small for breakfast, feeding all the dogs, and gathering them up to go to daycare. Once all of his dogs were wrangled up in his car, yipping up a muck, he bid farewell to Cerberus, as he was the goodest boi(TM), and left. He dropped the other dogs at daycare and went to work, taking the scenic route. He didn't need to be there immediately.

    Hades had a dull day at work. Nothing new happened except for lecturing Thanatos about his laziness on the job. He spent a day being king of the Underworld and dealing with whatever matters that needed his attention. The day was long, longer than it usually seemed, but perhaps Hades was being impatient. After all, he wanted it to go quickly so he could pop in and out of his brother's event.

    After work, Hades popped by a liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine. He figured it would be rude if he didn't bring Zeus and Hera a gift since they were hosting the party. Once the fancy bottle of wine was secured, Hades picked up his dogs, yapping in his ears as he drove. The dogs yapped at anyone walking on the sidewalk or at people in other cars. He grumbled to himself about putting his dogs through obedience training once again. The ride to his home wasn't long after picking the dogs off, and he quickly brought them inside. He turned the television on for them, putting on something child-like. He filled their food bowls and water bowls before bidding each one farewell. The dogs were settled and happy, meaning he could be on his way.

    Hades pulled out his phone on his way back to his car, seeing a message from Zeus. His dumb brother reminded him about where the event was held and whatever other bullshit he decided to send his brother. He responded with a simple "Okay." before hopping into his car once again. Hades took his sweet time getting to the venue, taking whatever route was the longest. He didn't bother picking up something to eat on his way there, as there would be little hors d'oeuvres to snack on. He knew he could attempt as much as he liked to escape quickly, but it wouldn't be possible. His dumb brothers would hold him hostage there until they talked his ear off.

    Hades pulled up, parking his car himself. Sometimes he utilized valet service, sometimes he didn't. This evening, he didn't feel like using it, especially if he wanted to attempt a swift escape. Waiting for the valet to bring his car around opened up the possibility of more conversation. He didn't want to be stuck there longer than he felt like it. Once he stepped out of his car with the bottle of wine, he tucked his car keys in his pocket after locking the door. He walked up the stairs, the door being opened for him once he approached. He wasn't surprised by the loud music or the club atmosphere. It was typical Zeus.

    Hades spotted his brothers instantly, but it was very hard to miss them. They stood proud and tall on a platform near the stage where the DJ played music. They always needed to be the center of attention. He slipped throught he crowd, traveling at a snail's pace to get to his brothers. Once he approached, the two loudly greeted him as he climbed onto the platform to stand with them. Zeus clapped his hand on his shoulder, and began to talk about whatever affair he had going on at that moment.

    Hera was near by, thanking people for coming. When she spotted him, Hades smiled awkwardly and waved to her. She approached and he extended a hand to her, helping her on the stage. Zeus and Poseidon were entranced in their own conversation, which left Hades the opportunity to chat with Hera. He handed her the bottle of wine, not needing to say anything to her about it. He knew she would take it happily, whether or not he said anything.

    "How are you, Bunny?" Hades inquired, hoping Hera was well.

    "I'm doing as best as I can. You know how your brother is and being married to him is a miserable thing. However, this evening I have some special guests coming, and I haven't seen them-- Wait, there they are! I'm glad Demeter brought Persephone with her," Hera said, waving to an older and younger woman to approach. Hades turned his gaze in the direction Hera motioned to and he was left breathless. The younger woman was absolutely divine. By the gods, she was blessed with such unspeakable beauty, he felt a lump form in his throat. His cheeks flushed slightly, watching the two approach. His heart hammered in his ears and his jaw tightened, a stoic expression going to his features. He didn't want to intrude on Hera's conversation or say something stupid.
 
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gianni a. katsaros



A fist hit bare skin and a man doubled over in pain as the attacker sighed, clicking his tongue. The victim's head hung as the man sat chained up, spitting blood from his mouth. The attacker grabbed the victim by the hair, pulling his face to level with his. The attacker gave the man a devilish smile before leaning forward and whispering something in his ear. The victim widened his eyes and the attacker pulled his head back, raising an eyebrow with the same devilish smile on his face. He released the man, letting his head hang again. He motioned to another man in the room, silently asking him to deal with the victim.

The attacker didn't have the time nor the patience to deal with the victim any longer. He sat in that abandoned building for a couple of hours now and the man wouldn't talk. He glanced at his watch, seeing the time was almost two in the morning. He needed to get some sleep before morning. He was busy tomorrow, and if he didn't try to get some sleep, he'd be fucking beat. There was no use wasting his time any more than he was.

Gianni's alarm clock went off at seven in the morning and he groaned loudly into his pillow. He turned his head towards his window, squinting his eyes. He now determined signing up for eight-thirty classes was the fucking worse, but he had no choice. He already dropped the money on it and he was sure getting a refund would be hell to do. He might as well go through with it, as he only had two classes and the opportunity to get whatever he needed to get done done. Plus, the campus wasn't far at all. He could hop on a train there and be there in five minutes. A public transport station was right outside of his apartment and he knew how to get to the campus.

Gianni rose from his bed, throwing his sheets aside. He walked into his bathroom and quickly showered, sitting in the shower for a little bit longer to ease any tension in his body and enjoy the warmth. He shut his shower down, stepping out and drying himself off before draping the towel around his hips. He sprayed some cologne on and put on some deodorant. He went to his closet, browsing the shirts in there. He wasn't sure what he wanted to wear, but something simple would do. He grabbed a dark red short-sleeve t-shirt from his closet with a pair of black jeans. He went to his dresser, pulling out a pair of socks and boxers. He slipped his clothes on, dressing rather quickly.

Gianni grabbed a watch from his side table and slipped it on his wrist. He grabbed his phone off of its charger and slipped it in his back pocket, going back to his closet after. He grabbed a pair of dark red high top Vans, slipping his feet through and tying them up. He fetched his backpack from his desk chair and his sunglasses off of his desk, slipping them on and going out the door. He grabbed his keys from the basket by the front door and left, locking the door behind him.

The wait for the train wasn't long, and Gianni was off as quickly as he was on. It dropped off in front of the time and he glanced at his watch to see what time it was. He had plenty of time before class to get some coffee from the Starbucks on campus. He walked to the student center building, headed immediately for the cafeteria. He waited in the line for Starbucks until it was his turn. He ordered a plain bagel with plain cream cheese and a large Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino. He waited patiently for his drink after he paid for it, thanking the barista with a dazzling smile after he received both. He took a bite out of his bagel as he walked to class, sipping his drink once the bites were chewed.

Gianni walked into class five minutes before it was supposed to start. He was surprised at the number of students already there, but it was a master's program after all. He waltzed over to a seat next to a female with dark hair, sitting himself down without comment. He took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the front of his shirt. He pulled his laptop from his backpack once it was unzipped and booted it up. He waited patiently to open a document he could write in. He glanced over at the female next to him, noticed she was pretty and figured he'd start a conversation up with her.

"The name's Gianni. What's yours?" Gianni greeted casually. He was bad at introductions, but what fucking ever. This would suffice.


✦✦✦


  • ✦ GIANNI A. KATSAROS ✦
    MyHLLtI.png
    ✦ ✦ ✦
    A fist hit bare skin and a man doubled over in pain as the attacker sighed, clicking his tongue. The victim's head hung as the man sat chained up, spitting blood from his mouth. The attacker grabbed the victim by the hair, pulling his face to a level with his. The attacker gave the man a devilish smile before leaning forward and whispering something in his ear. The victim widened his eyes and the attacker pulled his head back, raising an eyebrow with the same devilish smile on his face. He released the man, letting his head hang again. He motioned to another man in the room, silently asking him to deal with the victim.

    The attacker didn't have the time nor the patience to deal with the victim any longer. He sat in that abandoned building for a couple of hours now and the man wouldn't talk. He glanced at his watch, seeing the time was almost two in the morning. He needed to get some sleep before morning. He was busy tomorrow, and if he didn't try to get some sleep, he'd be fucking beat. There was no use wasting his time any more than he was.

    Gianni's alarm clock went off at seven in the morning and he groaned loudly into his pillow. He turned his head towards his window, squinting his eyes. He now determined signing up for eight-thirty classes was the fucking worse, but he had no choice. He already dropped the money on it and he was sure getting a refund would be hell to do. He might as well go through with it, as he only had two classes and the opportunity to get whatever he needed to get done done. Plus, the campus wasn't far at all. He could hop on a train there and be there in five minutes. A public transport station was right outside of his apartment and he knew how to get to the campus.

    Gianni rose from his bed, throwing his sheets aside. He walked into his bathroom and quickly showered, sitting in the shower for a little bit longer to ease any tension in his body and enjoy the warmth. He shut his shower down, stepping out and drying himself off before draping the towel around his hips. He sprayed some cologne on and put on some deodorant. He went to his closet, browsing the shirts in there. He wasn't sure what he wanted to wear, but something simple would do. He grabbed a dark red short-sleeve t-shirt from his closet with a pair of black jeans. He went to his dresser, pulling out a pair of socks and boxers. He slipped his clothes on, dressing rather quickly.

    Gianni grabbed a watch from his side table and slipped it on his wrist. He grabbed his phone off of its charger and slipped it in his back pocket, going back to his closet after. He grabbed a pair of dark red high top Vans, slipping his feet through and tying them up. He fetched his backpack from his desk chair and his sunglasses off of his desk, slipping them on and going out the door. He grabbed his keys from the basket by the front door and left, locking the door behind him.

    The wait for the train wasn't long, and Gianni was off as quickly as he was on. It dropped off in front of the time and he glanced at his watch to see what time it was. He had plenty of time before class to get some coffee from the Starbucks on campus. He walked to the student center building, headed immediately for the cafeteria. He waited in the line for Starbucks until it was his turn. He ordered a plain bagel with plain cream cheese and a large Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino. He waited patiently for his drink after he paid for it, thanking the barista with a dazzling smile after he received both. He took a bite out of his bagel as he walked to class, sipping his drink once the bites were chewed.

    Gianni walked into class five minutes before it was supposed to start. He was surprised at the number of students already there, but it was a master's program after all. He waltzed over to a seat next to a female with dark hair, sitting himself down without comment. He took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the front of his shirt. He pulled his laptop from his backpack once it was unzipped and booted it up. He waited patiently to open a document he could write in. He glanced over at the female next to him, noticed she was pretty and figured he'd start a conversation up with her.

    "The name's Gianni. What's yours?" Gianni greeted casually. He was bad at introductions, but what fucking ever. This would suffice.
 



davis n. blackwater

INTERACTIONS: n/a
LOCATION: boise, idaho -- cabin in forest of maine


Davis awoke with a start, heart pounding in his ears. His body was covered in sweat, soaking his hair and clothing. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving up and down with every breath. The stinging on his neck began to bother him, and he reached behind, hair brushing his fingers. His fingertips found a fresh wound, though it didn't bleed. He traced the marks on his neck, fingers traveling up and down the length of them. They were long, and three sat on the back of his neck. His brow furrowed as he rose from his bed, hand holding the nape of his neck.

Davis turned his body to look behind him, seeing a small stain of blood on his sheets. His lips parted, brow still furrowed in confusion and eyes wide. What he dreamt seemed to follow him into reality. It came to him vividly, playing in his mind again. Come to me. Those words rang in his ears, compelling him to get out of bed and go to his closet. He threw open the doors and flicked the switch, light cascading into the room from the closet. His eyes search the long shelf until they came to his prize. He reached up, grabbing a large suitcase. He pulled it down, doing his best to not knock hangers down or anything from the shelf.

Davis settled the suitcase on the floor, leaving the light on in the closet. He marched over to his bed, pulling his phone from his charger. He needed to make a phone call to work. He didn't have work that evening, but something in his gut told him he wouldn't be back for a while. For now, he could make the excuse of a family emergency that took an unforeseen amount of time. He unlocked his phone with a scan of his fingerprint before clicking on his contacts. He scrolled down until he found the number he needed to call. He quickly called, speaking briefly to the contact on the other line. The call was short and sweet, quickly disconnecting.

Davis tossed his phone onto his bed, walking towards his bathroom. He flicked the switch up, pushing the door closed. It remained cracked, but he didn't need to worry about someone seeing him in his naked form. He lived alone, no one keeping him company. He turned the shower on, letting the water warm as he undressed. Once the water's temperature was to his liking and the showerhead sprouted water, he hopped in, closing the glass door after. He stood under the water, letting it cascade over his form. He tried to wrap his thoughts around his dream, but it was hard to sift through everything. He didn't understand, yet knew he needed to leave Boise.

Davis's shower was longer than usual, as he didn't bother dealing with the usual shower chores right away. He sat under the warm water, his mind trying to decipher everything. He eventually gave up and went to business, hurrying through everything. He jumped out after twenty-minutes, wrapping his hair in a towel before drying himself off and having a towel sit on his hips. He went to the bathroom mirror, wiping away the steam that gathered. He turned the sink on, rinsing it with water before filling it. He picked up a razor and shaving cream, ridding his face of the stubble from the night. He was careful not to cut his skin, patting his face dry once he finished.

Davis packed while he dressed. He packed all the clothing he could in his suitcase, which was a large amount. As he packed, his eyes caught sight of his wrist. The hand-shaped bruise from his dream followed him as well. He gently prodded the bruise, wincing slightly. It was sore, but nothing he wasn't used to. Being cut by a knife hurt more than a simple bruise. Hell, being tased hurt a lot more than a small bruise.

Davis finished dressing, packing his shower items into the suitcase. He kept his hair in its towel, letting it dry for a little longer. Once his shower items were in the suitcase, he went into the bathroom and went to work on his hair. He pulled the towel off, unraveling the long mess. He brushed through it quickly, deciding a braid would do for today. His fingers worked swiftly, braiding the wet strands of hair before tying the end off with a hair tie. The braid sat on his back as he brushed his teeth, his toothbrush and hairbrush going into the suitcase after. He zipped the luggage up, looking around his room to see what he needed.

Davis grabbed a duffle bag from his closet, putting a couple of pairs of shoes, his laptop case with his laptop, phone charger, a book or two, a camera, and a police belt. He grabbed his badge and gun from his side table, slipping the badge on the waist of his jeans and fastening the belt holster for his gun through the loops of his jeans. He pulled his shirt over the top of his jeans after, zipping the duffle bag and grabbing a hoodie from his closet. He slipped his arms through the hoodie, glancing around his room to see if there was anything else he needed. He made a mental note to grab a heavy coat or two to bring to his truck.

Davis scooped up his phone again, opening a navigation app once it was unlocked. He typed in the address he suddenly remembered, seeing how long of a drive it would be. His jaw tensed at seeing the journey he had ahead of him. It would take 43 hours to arrive, but he was more than willing to go. He didn't want to go without a vehicle, just in case he needed to make an immediate escape. He knew he shouldn't run off like he was, but he couldn't deny the pull he had to go. He needed to investigate what this was and who called him. This was more than just a simple dream, especially when it interrupted his dreamwalking.

Davis was in and out of his home, bringing items to his truck. He packed some extra things, such as a weighted blanket, snacks from his cabinet and fridge, his suitcase and duffle bag, a couple of coats, and his bulletproof vest. He had his phone and wallet in his front pocket, gun on his hip, and badge on his waist. He looked behind at the apartment one last time, subconsciously knowing he might not return to his home. If that was the case, he was more than willing to allow his oldest sister to reside there, as she lived on the ranch and helped care for the younger siblings. He knew she wanted to live in a bustling city, but he needed to see what lay ahead.

Davis closed his front door and locked it, heart feeling heavy at leaving home. He focused on the journey ahead of him, knowing it would be long and he would listen to his playlist on repeat more than once. He went to his truck, jumped in, and began the drive. It was a long drive, causing him to stop a couple of times for a nap. He needed to stop for gas more than was, thankful he didn't own a diesel truck. He traveled through various states, even cutting through Canada. He stopped for food when required and survived on energy drinks to keep him going. He wanted to get there as soon as possible.

When Davis eventually made it to Maine and a forest, he drove slowly, careful to not hit any deer. Familiarity struck him as he drove further, recognizing the setting from his dream. His heart raced as he drove, causing him to chew the inside of his cheek slightly. He did his best to keep his paranoia and nerves under control, but it was hard seeing the dream from almost two days ago was real. He crawled slowly to the cabin, the building eventually coming into view. He saw another vehicle there, pulling behind it. He turned the car off, keeping his hands on the wheel. He stared at the building before him, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into.


✦✦✦


  • ✦ DAVIS N. BLACKWATER ✦
    K7Bd1Ux.png
    ✦ ✦ ✦
    INTERACTIONS: n/a
    LOCATION: boise, idaho -- cabin in forest of maine
    ✦ ✦ ✦
    Davis awoke with a start, heart pounding in his ears. His body was covered in sweat, soaking his hair and clothing. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving up and down with every breath. The stinging on his neck began to bother him, and he reached behind, hair brushing his fingers. His fingertips found a fresh wound, though it didn't bleed. He traced the marks on his neck, fingers traveling up and down the length of them. They were long, and three sat on the back of his neck. His brow furrowed as he rose from his bed, hand holding the nape of his neck.

    Davis turned his body to look behind him, seeing a small stain of blood on his sheets. His lips parted, brow still furrowed in confusion and eyes wide. What he dreamt seemed to follow him into reality. It came to him vividly, playing in his mind again. Come to me. Those words rang in his ears, compelling him to get out of bed and go to his closet. He threw open the doors and flicked the switch, light cascading into the room from the closet. His eyes search the long shelf until they came to his prize. He reached up, grabbing a large suitcase. He pulled it down, doing his best to not knock hangers down or anything from the shelf.

    Davis settled the suitcase on the floor, leaving the light on in the closet. He marched over to his bed, pulling his phone from his charger. He needed to make a phone call to work. He didn't have work that evening, but something in his gut told him he wouldn't be back for a while. For now, he could make the excuse of a family emergency that took an unforeseen amount of time. He unlocked his phone with a scan of his fingerprint before clicking on his contacts. He scrolled down until he found the number he needed to call. He quickly called, speaking briefly to the contact on the other line. The call was short and sweet, quickly disconnecting.

    Davis tossed his phone onto his bed, walking towards his bathroom. He flicked the switch up, pushing the door closed. It remained cracked, but he didn't need to worry about someone seeing him in his naked form. He lived alone, no one keeping him company. He turned the shower on, letting the water warm as he undressed. Once the water's temperature was to his liking and the showerhead sprouted water, he hopped in, closing the glass door after. He stood under the water, letting it cascade over his form. He tried to wrap his thoughts around his dream, but it was hard to sift through everything. He didn't understand, yet knew he needed to leave Boise.

    Davis's shower was longer than usual, as he didn't bother dealing with the usual shower chores right away. He sat under the warm water, his mind trying to decipher everything. He eventually gave up and went to business, hurrying through everything. He jumped out after twenty-minutes, wrapping his hair in a towel before drying himself off and having a towel sit on his hips. He went to the bathroom mirror, wiping away the steam that gathered. He turned the sink on, rinsing it with water before filling it. He picked up a razor and shaving cream, ridding his face of the stubble from the night. He was careful not to cut his skin, patting his face dry once he finished.

    Davis packed while he dressed. He packed all the clothing he could in his suitcase, which was a large amount. As he packed, his eyes caught sight of his wrist. The hand-shaped bruise from his dream followed him as well. He gently prodded the bruise, wincing slightly. It was sore, but nothing he wasn't used to. Being cut by a knife hurt more than a simple bruise. Hell, being tased hurt a lot more than a small bruise.

    Davis finished dressing, packing his shower items into the suitcase. He kept his hair in its towel, letting it dry for a little longer. Once his shower items were in the suitcase, he went into the bathroom and went to work on his hair. He pulled the towel off, unraveling the long mess. He brushed through it quickly, deciding a braid would do for today. His fingers worked swiftly, braiding the wet strands of hair before tying the end off with a hair tie. The braid sat on his back as he brushed his teeth, his toothbrush and hairbrush going into the suitcase after. He zipped the luggage up, looking around his room to see what he needed.

    Davis grabbed a duffle bag from his closet, putting a couple of pairs of shoes, his laptop case with his laptop, phone charger, a book or two, a camera, and a police belt. He grabbed his badge and gun from his side table, slipping the badge on the waist of his jeans and fastening the belt holster for his gun through the loops of his jeans. He pulled his shirt over the top of his jeans after, zipping the duffle bag and grabbing a hoodie from his closet. He slipped his arms through the hoodie, glancing around his room to see if there was anything else he needed. He made a mental note to grab a heavy coat or two to bring to his truck.

    Davis scooped up his phone again, opening a navigation app once it was unlocked. He typed in the address he suddenly remembered, seeing how long of a drive it would be. His jaw tensed at seeing the journey he had ahead of him. It would take 43 hours to arrive, but he was more than willing to go. He didn't want to go without a vehicle, just in case he needed to make an immediate escape. He knew he shouldn't run off like he was, but he couldn't deny the pull he had to go. He needed to investigate what this was and who called him. This was more than just a simple dream, especially when it interrupted his dreamwalking.

    Davis was in and out of his home, bringing items to his truck. He packed some extra things, such as a weighted blanket, snacks from his cabinet and fridge, his suitcase and duffle bag, a couple of coats, and his bulletproof vest. He had his phone and wallet in his front pocket, gun on his hip, and badge on his waist. He looked behind at the apartment one last time, subconsciously knowing he might not return to his home. If that was the case, he was more than willing to allow his oldest sister to reside there, as she lived on the ranch and helped care for the younger siblings. He knew she wanted to live in a bustling city, but he needed to see what lay ahead.

    Davis closed his front door and locked it, heart feeling heavy at leaving home. He focused on the journey ahead of him, knowing it would be long and he would listen to his playlist on repeat more than once. He went to his truck, jumped in, and began the drive. It was a long drive, causing him to stop a couple of times for a nap. He needed to stop for gas more than was, thankful he didn't own a diesel truck. He traveled through various states, even cutting through Canada. He stopped for food when required and survived on energy drinks to keep him going. He wanted to get there as soon as possible.

    When Davis eventually made it to Maine and a forest, he drove slowly, careful to not hit any deer. Familiarity struck him as he drove further, recognizing the setting from his dream. His heart raced as he drove, causing him to chew the inside of his cheek slightly. He did his best to keep his paranoia and nerves under control, but it was hard seeing the dream from almost two days ago was real. He crawled slowly to the cabin, the building eventually coming into view. He saw another vehicle there, pulling behind it. He turned the car off, keeping his hands on the wheel. He stared at the building before him, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into.
 
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✦ JACQUELINE N. VAN LAREN ✦
✦✦✦
because i got blood on my shoes
do you love me?





A world without magic. No one expected that to happen. One day, witches were allowed to flourish and mingle within a diverse society of werewolves, vampires, ghouls, and other supernatural creatures. They were permitted to use their powers, either for work or pleasure. Suddenly, witches around the world woke up to banging on their doors. Voices shouted for them to open the door or else they would enter by force. Some obeyed, some didn't. Regardless of their obedience, they were snatched away, hunted.

Those who could escape the predators hid within nature. A ban went into effect against the witches. They had to give themselves up to die. Or, they would be hunted and put to death. Those who ran would face a worse fate than those who surrendered. But Jacqueline wasn't going to quit. All she knew was magic; her whole life centered around it. Those who practiced death magic as she did encounter a worse death than the regular witches. They were the primary target, but she refused to have her name added to the list of people murdered for who they were.

Jacqueline hid for three months, trying to gather other witches who ran. They always moved, not lingering in one place for too long. If they settled in for too long, the likelihood of being captured increased. Sometimes, Jackie would send scouts to the previous areas to retrieve anything left behind. The earlier homes were ransacked, anything that was left was confiscated or broken. People who were with the group for awhile learned not to leave anything behind. They warned the newbies to do the same, but sometimes the newbies needed to learn by losing a prized possession.

Currently, Jacqueline sat with some other witches down in an abandoned train station underground. She browsed the news on her tablet, headlines exclaiming another capture and victory against the dreadful witches. Those headlines made her sick, but she had to stomach the sick reality around her. Other headlines advertised a position available on the team of bounty hunters. The job was open for a while, but she couldn't bring herself to look at it. Once she could, she thought about the possibilities it presented. She didn't want to hunt her kind, but she knew she could get information.

If Jackie could infiltrate the ranks, she could slowly destroy the bounty hunters from the inside. Perhaps, she could make it possible to revolt against the government and allow witches to be present again. She passed the idea of joining the hunters along to the other leaders of the remaining witches. At first, they were against it, but she knew some were open to the idea.

Jacqueline heard a male voice calling her name, and she looked up. She pushed herself from the wall, following the voodoo witch. He led her to a tunnel lit with candles and kerosene lamps. The three leaders stood around a wooden crate, documents scattered about. They looked up at her as she approached. They greeted her with good news: papers were made up for her to interview with the bounty hunters. They came to a conclusion having someone collect intel would be best. They could get the word out to other covens, warning them of the target on their back.

Jacqueline gladly accepted, knowing she needed to move quickly. She gathered her forged papers, tucking them into her coat. She bid farewell to the witches, not sure when she would see them again. As she made her way to the city, she glanced over her new identity. They allowed her to keep her first name but changed her last name to Morris. She was an elf skilled in weaponry. She was thankful she knew her way around a gun and a dagger, but any other weapons were foreign to her.

The trip to the city center took thirty minutes. The streets were slightly desolate; the people kept their eyes low, glancing at her from time to time. She kept her attention straight ahead, eyes glancing about, looking for the towering, government skyscraper. Once it came into view, she focused her steps on going in that direction. She was nervous but didn't show it. Being out in public like she was guaranteed an extremely high risk. The worse that would happen would be her arrest and eventual death. She hoped she wouldn't lead the bounty hunters straight to the remaining witches.

Jacqueline came to the doors of the building, pushing open the glass door. Many people were lingering in the lobby. There was the buzz of everyday governmental duties. She went to the front desk, asking where the interviews for the bounty hunter position were. Once the receptionist told her, she thanked him, going to the room he directed her to. She noticed a couple of other individuals were there for the position. She took a seat and waited patiently, watching them enter the room one by one. Once it was her turn, she entered the room, spotting another female amongst a crowd of men. She took a seat, waiting for their questions as she pulled out her papers from her coat.




✦✦✦
 
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  • ✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
    s5hvaaj.png
    because i got blood on my shoes, do you love me?
    Hooves beat the frigid earth, kicking up mud and debris on the ground. The cold wind stung the skin of the rider, making a bright pink appear on her cheeks and nose. Soft pants left her face as her heels dug into the horse, hands gripping the reigns. She flicked the reigns, making a noise to command the horse to go faster. Trees flew by as she rode, testing the stamina of the beast she was on.

    She rode on, going deeper into the wood. She heard the clank of armor behind her, following her every move. She understood she was a person of importance, but sometimes she desired time to herself. Guards were necessary for protection, and she was glad they knew to keep their distance. Her guards were used to her wanting to be alone. She needed space to clear her head or to prepare it for the day's events. She wondered what the king wanted to discuss today.

    When Rylan requested her presence at the Red Keep, she came at once. Her people felt the chill before it arrived in King's Landing. To part from her people was difficult; they were in a time of need and survival. However, it was her duty. If a king requested your presence, it wasn't something you could disobey. It was a command and no one disobeyed a king, especially a Bolton. However, Jackie liked the Bolton king. From her correspondence with him and from what she could remember of her youth, he wasn't as bad as many believed.

    "My lady, we need to return to the palace!" Jackie heard one of her guards yell. She huffed slightly, pulling on the reigns. The horse whinnied as it came to an abrupt stop. She squeezed the sides of the horse with her legs, doing her best to keep it from rearing up. Once the horse came to a stop, she reached forward, giving it a couple of pats on its nuzzle. She turned the horse, looking at the Red Keep. It hovered over the forest and was visible, even if you wanted to hide. She sighed, clicking her tongue and starting the horse to return.

    Once Jacqueline returned to the courtyard, she slipped off of the horse with the help of her head guard. She thanked him, taking the lead. She pulled her gloves off one by one as she walked inside, a servant collecting them for her. She pulled the silk scarf off from around her hair, fingers examining her braid for loose strands. Satisfied, she made her way to Rylan's rooms, knowing it was time for the meeting. Her guards followed silently, as Rylan's doors came into sight.

    Jacqueline lifted her skirts as she ascended the stairs to Rylan's doors. She settled in front of the door, turning slightly to her guards. She waved a hand, partially dismissing them. She wanted them to keep their distance, not wanting to overwhelm Rylan with her security when he first awoke. She balled her hand into a fist, knocking on the great wooden doors. She didn't have a problem with barging into the room if she needed to. After all, whatever state he was in wouldn't faze her.

    Linn heard a commotion and a request to wait a moment. She chuckled gently, bringing her hand down and clasping both in front of her. She waited patiently, eyes tracing the detailing of the wood before they began to part. Obvious, Rylan quickly threw on clothing. His trousers were undone, his tunic hung sloppily on his form, and his crown sat tilted atop of his head. She smiled warmly, amused by the appearance. However, it was a good look for him.

    "Good morning, your majesty," Jay greeted with a curtsey and a dip of her head. Once she finished her curtsey, she spoke again, answering his question, "It appears so, Rylan. Shall I notify Tadashi that you need a few moments to ready yourself or shall I accompany you as you are? After all, you do pull off the just-rolled-out-of-bed look well."
  • ❀ TIRIUS A. DAXER ❀
    zTSnuCH.png
    don't mean i won't do things that hurt.
    Winter grew day by day, encroaching on the lands of Westeros. Letters passed from Tirius's hands to the king and to the Daxer family. The cold was a silent devil, crawling slowly to envelop the lands. His parents frantically wrote their worries and delivered their letters while he worriedly read over their words. Tiri was comforted by his families' handwriting, but not comforted by the danger the cold posed.

    Tirius couldn't do anything about the cold. It was uncontrollable and he didn't have the power to take charge. He was a commoner who rose to the title of the king's guard. His duty was to protect the man in charge. If he failed to protect Rylan, the lands of Westeros would have no one to look for guidance. The world would throw itself in chaos. Every man would fend for him or herself. Death would lay in its wake.

    Despite the threats of cold and chaos, Tirius went about his daily routine. Every morning he began with training. He trained in the courtyard against fellow soldiers, either dueling with swords or fists. They wouldn't fight too much, after all, they needed to be presentable before the king. There were times where his moves were lazy, causing him to yield to his opponent. Most days, Rius made his opponents yield, and today wasn't unusual.

    After training with his peers, Tirius readied to serve the king. Of course, he needed to be present at the king's side every moment. He was allowed to take time for himself; he couldn't stay awake twenty-four hours a day often. A little bit of rest and training revived Tirius for the next day of serving the king. He needed to be as alert as possible to halt any attacks.

    Tirius stood guard outside Rylan's bedroom, donning the Bolton sigil and colors. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, face pointed forward. He held a neutral expression, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for any threats. The sounds of armor and boots were shortly captured in his ears. He brought his eyes to the commotion, seeing Lady Baelish enter the king's hall. He briefly forgot why Jacqueline was there until he recalled the meeting between the Paramounts and the small council. It made perfect sense as to why Jacqueline was there: she needed to wake the king.

    Tirius listened to Jacqueline's knock on the vast, wooden doors. He listened to Rylan stumble out of bed, requesting Jacqueline to wait until he emerged. It didn't take Rylan long to emerge, conversing with Jacqueline. A smile ghosted over his lips as he listened to the exchange. The Baelish woman knew how to flatter a man, despite seeming uninterested in the trials of romance. Jacqueline was a curious woman, but now wasn't the time to think about that. He needed to wait for Rylan's order for his assignment.


✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
✦✦✦
because i got blood on my shoes, do you love me?



✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
Hooves beat the frigid earth, kicking up mud and debris on the ground. The cold wind stung the skin of the rider, making a bright pink appear on her cheeks and nose. Soft pants left her face as her heels dug into the horse, hands gripping the reigns. She flicked the reigns, making a noise to command the horse to go faster. Trees flew by as she rode, testing the stamina of the beast she was on.

She rode on, going deeper into the wood. She heard the clank of armor behind her, following her every move. She understood she was a quest of importance, but sometimes she desired time to herself. Guards were necessary for protection, and she was glad they knew to keep their distance. Her guards were used to her wanting to be alone. She needed space to clear her head or to prepare it for the day's events. She wondered what the king wanted to discuss today.

When Rylan requested her presence at the Red Keep, she came at once. Her people felt the chill before it arrived in King's Landing. To part from her people was difficult; they were in a time of need and survival. However, it was her duty. If a king requested your presence, it wasn't something you could disobey. It was a command and no one disobeyed a king, especially a Bolton. However, Jackie liked the Bolton king. From her correspondence with him and from what she could remember of her youth, he wasn't as bad as many believed.

"My lady, we need to return to the palace!" Jackie heard one of her guards yell. She huffed slightly, pulling on the reigns. The horse whinnied as it came to an abrupt stop. She squeezed the sides of the horse with her legs, doing her best to keep it from rearing up. Once the horse came to a stop, she reached forward, giving it a couple of pats on its nuzzle. She turned the horse, looking at the Red Keep. It hovered over the forest and was visible, even if you wanted to hide. She sighed, clicking her tongue and starting the horse to return.

Once Jacqueline returned to the courtyard, she slipped off of the horse with the help of her headguard. She thanked him, taking the lead. She pulled her gloves off one by one as she walked inside, a servant collecting them for her. She pulled the silk scarf off from around her hair, fingers examining her braid for loose strands. Satisfied, she made her way to Rylan's rooms, knowing it was time for the meeting. Her guards followed silently, as Rylan's doors came into sight.

Jacqueline lifted her skirts as she ascended the stairs to Rylan's doors. She settled in front of the door, turning slightly to her guards. She waved a hand, partially dismissing them. She wanted them to keep their distance, not wanting to overwhelm Rylan with her security when he first awoke. She balled her hand into a fist, knocking on the great wooden doors. She didn't have a problem with barging into the room if she needed to. After all, whatever state he was in wouldn't faze her.

Linn heard a commotion and a request to wait a moment. She chuckled gently, bringing her hand down and clasping both in front of her. She waited patiently, eyes tracing the detailing of the wood before they began to part. Obvious, Rylan quickly threw on clothing. His trousers were undone, his tunic hung sloppily on his form, and his crown sat tilted atop of his head. She smiled warmly, amused by the appearance. However, it was a good look for him.

"Good morning, your majesty," Jay greeted with a curtsey and a dip of her head. Once she finished her curtsey, she spoke again, answering his question, "It appears so, Rylan. Shall I notify Tadashi that you need a few moments to ready yourself or shall I accompany you as you are? After all, you do pull off the just-rolled-out-of-bed look well."

❀ TIRIUS A. DAXER ❀
❀❀❀
don't mean i won't do things that hurt.


❀ TIRIUS A. DAXER ❀
Winter grew day by day, encroaching on the lands of Westeros. Letters passed from Tirius's hands to the king and to the Daxer family. The cold was a silent devil, crawling slowly to envelop the lands. His parents frantically wrote their worries and delivered their letters while he worriedly read over their words. Tiri was comforted by his families' handwriting, but not comforted by the danger the cold posed.

Tirius couldn't do anything about the cold. It was uncontrollable and he didn't have the power to take charge. He was a commoner who rose to the title of the king's guard. His duty was to protect the man in charge. If he failed to protect Rylan, the lands of Westeros would have no one to look for guidance. The world would throw itself in chaos. Every man would fend for him or herself. Death would lay in its wake.

Despite the threats of cold and chaos, Tirius went about his daily routine. Every morning he began with training. He trained in the courtyard against fellow soldiers, either dueling with swords or fists. They wouldn't fight too much, after all, they needed to be presentable before the king. There were times where his moves were lazy, causing him to yield to his opponent. Most days, Rius made his opponents yield, and today wasn't unusual.

After training with his peers, Tirius readied to serve the king. Of course, he needed to be present at the king's side every moment. He was allowed to take time for himself; he couldn't stay awake twenty-four hours a day often. A little bit of rest and training revived Tirius for the next day of serving the king. He needed to be as alert as possible to halt any attacks.

Tirius stood guard outside Rylan's bedroom, donning the Bolton sigil and colors. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, face pointed forward. He held a neutral expression, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for any threats. The sounds of armor and boots were shortly captured in his ears. He brought his eyes to the commotion, seeing Lady Baelish enter the king's hall. He briefly forgot why Jacqueline was there until he recalled the meeting between the Paramounts and the small council. It made perfect sense as to why Jacqueline was there: she needed to wake the king.

Tirius listened to Jacqueline's knock on the vast, wooden doors. He listened to Rylan stumble out of bed, requesting Jacqueline to wait until he emerged. It didn't take Rylan long to emerge, conversing with Jacqueline. A smile ghosted over his lips as he listened to the exchange. The Baelish woman knew how to flatter a man, despite seeming uninterested in the trials of romance. Jacqueline was a curious woman, but now wasn't the time to think about that. He needed to wait for Rylan's order for his assignment.



✦✦✦
 
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  • ✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
    s5hvaaj.png
    because i got blood on my shoes, do you love me?
    Hooves beat the frigid earth, kicking up mud and debris on the ground. The cold wind stung the skin of the rider, making a bright pink appear on her cheeks and nose. Soft pants left her face as her heels dug into the horse, hands gripping the reigns. She flicked the reigns, making a noise to command the horse to go faster. Trees flew by as she rode, testing the stamina of the beast she was on.

    She rode on, going deeper into the wood. She heard the clank of armor behind her, following her every move. She understood she was a quest of importance, but sometimes she desired time to herself. Guards were necessary for protection, and she was glad they knew to keep their distance. Her guards were used to her wanting to be alone. She needed space to clear her head or to prepare it for the day's events. She wondered what the king wanted to discuss today.

    When Rylan requested her presence at the Red Keep, she came at once. Her people felt the chill before it arrived in King's Landing. To part from her people was difficult; they were in a time of need and survival. However, it was her duty. If a king requested your presence, it wasn't something you could disobey. It was a command and no one disobeyed a king, especially a Bolton. However, Jackie liked the Bolton king. From her correspondence with him and from what she could remember of her youth, he wasn't as bad as many believed.

    "My lady, we need to return to the palace!" Jackie heard one of her guards yell. She huffed slightly, pulling on the reigns. The horse whinnied as it came to an abrupt stop. She squeezed the sides of the horse with her legs, doing her best to keep it from rearing up. Once the horse came to a stop, she reached forward, giving it a couple of pats on its nuzzle. She turned the horse, looking at the Red Keep. It hovered over the forest and was visible, even if you wanted to hide. She sighed, clicking her tongue and starting the horse to return.

    Once Jacqueline returned to the courtyard, she slipped off of the horse with the help of her head guard. She thanked him, taking the lead. She pulled her gloves off one by one as she walked inside, a servant collecting them for her. She pulled the silk scarf off from around her hair, fingers examining her braid for loose strands. Satisfied, she made her way to Rylan's rooms, knowing it was time for the meeting. Her guards followed silently, as Rylan's doors came into sight.

    Jacqueline lifted her skirts as she ascended the stairs to Rylan's doors. She settled in front of the door, turning slightly to her guards. She waved a hand, partially dismissing them. She wanted them to keep their distance, not wanting to overwhelm Rylan with her security when he first awoke. She balled her hand into a fist, knocking on the great wooden doors. She didn't have a problem with barging into the room if she needed to. After all, whatever state he was in wouldn't faze her.

    Linn heard a commotion and a request to wait a moment. She chuckled gently, bringing her hand down and clasping both in front of her. She waited patiently, eyes tracing the detailing of the wood before they began to part. Obvious, Rylan quickly threw on clothing. His trousers were undone, his tunic hung sloppily on his form, and his crown sat tilted atop of his head. She smiled warmly, amused by the appearance. However, it was a good look for him.

    "Good morning, your majesty," Jay greeted with a curtsey and a dip of her head. Once she finished her curtsey, she spoke again, answering his question, "It appears so, Rylan. Shall I notify Tadashi that you need a few moments to ready yourself or shall I accompany you as you are? After all, you do pull off the just-rolled-out-of-bed look well."
  • ❀ TIRIUS A. DAXER ❀
    zTSnuCH.png
    don't mean i won't do things that hurt.
    Winter grew day by day, encroaching on the lands of Westeros. Letters passed from Tirius's hands to the king and to the Daxer family. The cold was a silent devil, crawling slowly to envelop the lands. His parents frantically wrote their worries and delivered their letters while he worriedly read over their words. Tiri was comforted by his families' handwriting, but not comforted by the danger the cold posed.

    Tirius couldn't do anything about the cold. It was uncontrollable and he didn't have the power to take charge. He was a commoner who rose to the title of the king's guard. His duty was to protect the man in charge. If he failed to protect Rylan, the lands of Westeros would have no one to look for guidance. The world would throw itself in chaos. Every man would fend for him or herself. Death would lay in its wake.

    Despite the threats of cold and chaos, Tirius went about his daily routine. Every morning he began with training. He trained in the courtyard against fellow soldiers, either dueling with swords or fists. They wouldn't fight too much, after all, they needed to be presentable before the king. There were times where his moves were lazy, causing him to yield to his opponent. Most days, Rius made his opponents yield, and today wasn't unusual.

    After training with his peers, Tirius readied to serve the king. Of course, he needed to be present at the king's side every moment. He was allowed to take time for himself; he couldn't stay awake twenty-four hours a day often. A little bit of rest and training revived Tirius for the next day of serving the king. He needed to be as alert as possible to halt any attacks.

    Tirius stood guard outside Rylan's bedroom, donning the Bolton sigil and colors. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, face pointed forward. He held a neutral expression, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for any threats. The sounds of armor and boots were shortly captured in his ears. He brought his eyes to the commotion, seeing Lady Baelish enter the king's hall. He briefly forgot why Jacqueline was there until he recalled the meeting between the Paramounts and the small council. It made perfect sense as to why Jacqueline was there: she needed to wake the king.

    Tirius listened to Jacqueline's knock on the vast, wooden doors. He listened to Rylan stumble out of bed, requesting Jacqueline to wait until he emerged. It didn't take Rylan long to emerge, conversing with Jacqueline. A smile ghosted over his lips as he listened to the exchange. The Baelish woman knew how to flatter a man, despite seeming uninterested in the trials of romance. Jacqueline was a curious woman, but now wasn't the time to think about that. He needed to wait for Rylan's order for his assignment.
 
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✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
✦✦✦
because i got blood on my shoes
do you love me?



 
Last edited:









✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
✦✦✦
because i got blood on my shoes
do you love me?





Hooves beat the frigid earth, kicking up mud and debris on the ground. The cold wind stung the skin of the rider, making a bright pink appear on her cheeks and nose. Soft pants left her face as her heels dug into the horse, hands gripping the reigns. She flicked the reigns, making a noise to command the horse to go faster. Trees flew by as she rode, testing the stamina of the beast she was on.

She rode on, going deeper into the wood. She heard the clank of armor behind her, following her every move. She understood she was a quest of importance, but sometimes she desired time to herself. Guards were necessary for protection, and she was glad they knew to keep their distance. Her guards were used to her wanting to be alone. She needed space to clear her head or to prepare it for the day's events. She wondered what the king wanted to discuss today.

When Rylan requested her presence at the Red Keep, she came at once. Her people felt the chill before it arrived in King's Landing. To part from her people was difficult; they were in a time of need and survival. However, it was her duty. If a king requested your presence, it wasn't something you could disobey. It was a command and no one disobeyed a king, especially a Bolton. However, Jackie liked the Bolton king. From her correspondence with him and from what she could remember of her youth, he wasn't as bad as many believed.

"My lady, we need to return to the palace!" Jackie heard one of her guards yell. She huffed slightly, pulling on the reigns. The horse whinnied as it came to an abrupt stop. She squeezed the sides of the horse with her legs, doing her best to keep it from rearing up. Once the horse came to a stop, she reached forward, giving it a couple of pats on its nuzzle. She turned the horse, looking at the Red Keep. It hovered over the forest and was visible, even if you wanted to hide. She sighed, clicking her tongue and starting the horse to return.

Once Jacqueline returned to the courtyard, she slipped off of the horse with the help of her head guard. She thanked him, taking the lead. She pulled her gloves off one by one as she walked inside, a servant collecting them for her. She pulled the silk scarf off from around her hair, fingers examining her braid for loose strands. Satisfied, she made her way to Rylan's rooms, knowing it was time for the meeting. Her guards followed silently, as Rylan's doors came into sight.

Jacqueline lifted her skirts as she ascended the stairs to Rylan's doors. She settled in front of the door, turning slightly to her guards. She waved a hand, partially dismissing them. She wanted them to keep their distance, not wanting to overwhelm Rylan with her security when he first awoke. She balled her hand into a fist, knocking on the great wooden doors. She didn't have a problem with barging into the room if she needed to. After all, whatever state he was in wouldn't faze her.

Linn heard a commotion and a request to wait a moment. She chuckled gently, bringing her hand down and clasping both in front of her. She waited patiently, eyes tracing the detailing of the wood before they began to part. Obviously, Rylan quickly threw on clothing. His trousers were undone, his tunic hung sloppily on his form, and his crown sat tilted atop of his head. She smiled warmly, amused by the appearance. However, it was a good look for him.

"Good morning, your majesty," Jay greeted with a curtsey and a dip of her head. Once she finished her curtsey, she spoke again, answering his question, "It appears so, Rylan. Shall I notify Tadashi that you need a few moments to ready yourself or shall I accompany you as you are? After all, you do pull off the just-rolled-out-of-bed look well."




✦✦✦
 
Last edited:









✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
✦✦✦
because i got blood on my shoes
do you love me?





Hooves beat the frigid earth, kicking up mud and debris on the ground. The cold wind stung the skin of the rider, making a bright pink appear on her cheeks and nose. Soft pants left her face as her heels dug into the horse, hands gripping the reigns. She flicked the reigns, making a noise to command the horse to go faster. Trees flew by as she rode, testing the stamina of the beast she was on.

She rode on, going deeper into the wood. She heard the clank of armor behind her, following her every move. She understood she was a person of importance, but sometimes she desired time to herself. Guards were necessary for protection, and she was glad they knew to keep their distance. Her guards were used to her wanting to be alone. She needed space to clear her head or to prepare it for the day's events. She wondered what the king wanted to discuss today.

When Rylan requested her presence at the Red Keep, she came at once. Her people felt the chill before it arrived in King's Landing. To part from her people was difficult; they were in a time of need and survival. However, it was her duty. If a king requested your presence, it wasn't something you could disobey. It was a command and no one disobeyed a king, especially a Bolton. However, Jackie liked the Bolton king. From her correspondence with him and from what she could remember of her youth, he wasn't as bad as many believed.

"My lady, we need to return to the palace!" Jackie heard one of her guards yell. She huffed slightly, pulling on the reigns. The horse whinnied as it came to an abrupt stop. She squeezed the sides of the horse with her legs, doing her best to keep it from rearing up. Once the horse came to a stop, she reached forward, giving it a couple of pats on its nuzzle. She turned the horse, looking at the Red Keep. It hovered over the forest and was visible, even if you wanted to hide. She sighed, clicking her tongue and starting the horse to return.

Once Jacqueline returned to the courtyard, she slipped off of the horse with the help of her head guard. She thanked him, taking the lead. She pulled her gloves off one by one as she walked inside, a servant collecting them for her. She pulled the silk scarf off from around her hair, fingers examining her braid for loose strands. Satisfied, she made her way to Rylan's rooms, knowing it was time for the meeting. Her guards followed silently, as Rylan's doors came into sight.

Jacqueline lifted her skirts as she ascended the stairs to Rylan's doors. She settled in front of the door, turning slightly to her guards. She waved a hand, partially dismissing them. She wanted them to keep their distance, not wanting to overwhelm Rylan with her security when he first awoke. She balled her hand into a fist, knocking on the great wooden doors. She didn't have a problem with barging into the room if she needed to. After all, whatever state he was in wouldn't faze her.

Linn heard a commotion and a request to wait a moment. She chuckled gently, bringing her hand down and clasping both in front of her. She waited patiently, eyes tracing the detailing of the wood before they began to part. Obviously, Rylan quickly threw on clothing. His trousers were undone, his tunic hung sloppily on his form, and his crown sat tilted atop of his head. She smiled warmly, amused by the appearance. However, it was a good look for him.

"Good morning, your majesty," Jay greeted with a curtsey and a dip of her head. Once she finished her curtsey, she spoke again, answering his question, "It appears so, Rylan. Shall I notify Tadashi that you need a few moments to ready yourself or shall I accompany you as you are? After all, you do pull off the just-rolled-out-of-bed look well."




✦✦✦











❀ TIRIUS A. DAXER ❀
❀❀❀
don't mean i won't do things that hurt.





Winter grew day by day, encroaching on the lands of Westeros. Letters passed from Tirius's hands to the king and to the Daxer family. The cold was a silent devil, crawling slowly to envelop the lands. His parents frantically wrote their worries and delivered their letters while he worriedly read over their words. Tiri was comforted by his families' handwriting, but not comforted by the danger the cold posed.

Tirius couldn't do anything about the cold. It was uncontrollable and he didn't have the power to take charge. He was a commoner who rose to the title of the king's guard. His duty was to protect the man in charge. If he failed to protect Rylan, the lands of Westeros would have no one to look for guidance. The world would throw itself in chaos. Every man would fend for him or herself. Death would lay in its wake.

Despite the threats of cold and chaos, Tirius went about his daily routine. Every morning he began with training. He trained in the courtyard against fellow soldiers, either dueling with swords or fists. They wouldn't fight too much, after all, they needed to be presentable before the king. There were times where his moves were lazy, causing him to yield to his opponent. Most days, Rius made his opponents yield, and today wasn't unusual.

After training with his peers, Tirius readied to serve the king. Of course, he needed to be present at the king's side every moment. He was allowed to take time for himself; he couldn't stay awake twenty-four hours a day often. A little bit of rest and training revived Tirius for the next day of serving the king. He needed to be as alert as possible to halt any attacks.

Tirius stood guard outside Rylan's bedroom, donning the Bolton sigil and colors. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, face pointed forward. He held a neutral expression, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for any threats. The sounds of armor and boots were shortly captured in his ears. He brought his eyes to the commotion, seeing Lady Baelish enter the king's hall. He briefly forgot why Jacqueline was there until he recalled the meeting between the Paramounts and the small council. It made perfect sense as to why Jacqueline was there: she needed to wake the king.

Tirius listened to Jacqueline's knock on the vast, wooden doors. He listened to Rylan stumble out of bed, requesting Jacqueline to wait until he emerged. It didn't take Rylan long to emerge, conversing with Jacqueline. A smile ghosted over his lips as he listened to the exchange. The Baelish woman knew how to flatter a man, despite seeming uninterested in the trials of romance. Jacqueline was a curious woman, but now wasn't the time to think about that. He needed to wait for Rylan's order for his assignment.




✦✦✦
 
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  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: witchlinq.









✦ JACQUELINE N. BAELISH ✦
✦✦✦
because i got blood on my shoes
do you love me?





Jacqueline stared in the mirror, bags under her eyes. Her maid pulled her hair into a half up, half down style. The maid braided intricate braids blending into the curls of her dark hair. Jacqueline felt exhausted, but so much had happened during the night. She knew life at King's Landing would be difficult until Rylan succeeded to the throne. After all, the cause of her bags and exhaustion was the news her father relayed in the early hours of the morning.

Ivarn Baelish was the Hand to the king. He knew the king's condition diminished suddenly and at a rapid rate. The Bolton king was healthy, and he suspected there was a culprit behind the king's decline. He listened closely to the commotion around him leading up to Reyner's death. When information came to his attention about the Baratheon lord's plot against Reyner, Ivarn realized he was too late. The king's health declined too far beyond saving, but there was a card up his sleeve that he could play. He hired an assassin to eliminate the Baratheon Master of Whispers. If someone was to betray the king, they deserved death.

The night the king died, Ivarn lay sleeping at his desk. When he heard the knock on his door, it startled him awake, but he summoned the knocker in. It was the physician notifying Ivarn of Reyner's death. The physician bowed before he departed, and Ivarn quickly rose from his seat. He jogged out of the room, heading to the Baelish chambers first. Jacqueline lay sleeping in her bed, the moon cascading over her gentle features. Ivarn gently roused his daughter awake, commanding her to throw on a robe and slippers. Sleepily, Jackie obeyed, allowing her father to take her hand and drag her out of the chambers. She had to run slightly to keep up with him.

Confusion flooded Jacqueline's tired mind as she followed her father. It took her a moment to realize they ran to Rylan's chambers, as it wasn't an unfamiliar destination to her. Her mind snapped awake, brow furrowing in confusion as she stopped behind her father. Ivarn knocked once before the guards let him into Rylan's chamber. Jacqueline followed behind her father, eyes seeing Tadashi and Rylan together. She saw their confusion and shook her head when their eyes met hers. She didn't understand why her father dragged her with him to Rylan's chamber.

"Your Highness, I hope you do not mind the intrusion and Jacqueline's presence. I just heard some news. Rylan, your father... your father succumbed to his illness minutes ago," Ivarn said, his voice breaking slightly. Shock filled Jacqueline when she heard the news, tears filling her eyes. Her father hung his head, hands grasped in front of him. Jackie ran to Rylan, tears falling down her cheeks as she pulled her friend in for a hug. She held him as she silently cried, feeling the tension beneath her arms and hands.

The rest of the morning blurred in her mind. Now, at six in the morning, Jacqueline sat in front of a mirror, getting ready for the funeral. She wore a gown of black with long, flowing sleeves. The hem of her skirt and edges of her sleeves were embroidered emerald green and gold. She wore the Baelish crow on the breast of her top. Once her maid finished her hair, she pinned a veil in. Jacqueline thanked the maid, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. Her makeup reflected the somber mood in the Keep's walls. It was dark but simple. Her father sat in a chair in her room, chin buried in his hand as he stared out at the scenery beyond her balcony.

"It's not your fault, Father," Jacqueline quietly said, standing from her chair. She picked up the black, silk gloves on the dressing table, grasping them in her hand as she walked to her father. She laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. She knew her father had his suspicions, but she wondered if he knew the cause of death. Jacqueline stared out her balcony, hearing the bells toll. It was six in the morning, but she knew they would toll beyond the six it usually did. She was sure the town criers notified King's Landing of King Reyner's death. She patted her father on his shoulder before departing.

Jacqueline slipped her silk gloves on as she walked to her door. She pushed open the wooden masses with her hip as slipped her gloves on. Ivarn followed after his daughter, knowing they needed to meet with Rylan. For now, it was Ivarn's job to guide the young man. Jacqueline led her father to the dining room, knowing everyone would be gathered there. She didn't have an appetite, but she needed something to cure her exhaustion. Her father needed to eat; he had a busy day ahead of him. She entered the dining room, Ivarn behind her. She spotted Rylan and Tadashi at the table, taking her spot near them. Her father sat next to Rylan, willing to answer whatever questions the young man had.




✦✦✦
 
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― [I]birthday[/I] here
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― [I]brief family overview[/I] here

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― [I]love interest[/I]
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[SIZE=4][B]diving deeper --[/B][/SIZE]
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― [I]describe one trait in a paragraph here[/I]
― [I]describe one trait in a paragraph here[/I]

[B]mbti type[/B] here
[B]hogwarts house[/B] here
[B]mental disabilities[/B] here

[B]head canons[/B]
― here
― here
― here

[B]playlist[/B]
[I]lyrics, lyrics, lyrics[/I] ― [tooltip=ARTIST(S) HERE]x[/tooltip] TITLE
[I]lyrics, lyrics, lyrics[/I] ― [tooltip=ARTIST(S) HERE]x[/tooltip] TITLE
[I]lyrics, lyrics, lyrics[/I] ― [tooltip=ARTIST(S) HERE]x[/tooltip] TITLE
[I]lyrics, lyrics, lyrics[/I] ― [tooltip=ARTIST(S) HERE]x[/tooltip] TITLE
[I]lyrics, lyrics, lyrics[/I] ― [tooltip=ARTIST(S) HERE]x[/tooltip] TITLE

[HR][/HR]
[SIZE=4][B]other roleplays --[/B][/SIZE]
[B]god/goddess[/B] here
― [I]god/goddess description[/I] here
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ur valid kjahbskjdhj
 
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Magna fringilla urna porttitor rhoncus dolor purus non enim. Fames ac turpis egestas maecenas pharetra convallis posuere morbi leo. Aliquam id diam maecenas ultricies mi eget mauris pharetra. Magna fermentum iaculis eu non diam phasellus vestibulum lorem. Dolor sit amet consectetur adipiscing. Libero justo laoreet sit amet cursus sit amet. Lorem dolor sed viverra ipsum. Amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum est ultricies integer. Nunc faucibus a pellentesque sit amet porttitor eget dolor. Vel eros donec ac odio. Leo a diam sollicitudin tempor id eu.

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❀ GEMMA R. HUDDLESTON ❀
❀❀❀
aphrodite, hear my pain.
i want to fall in love again.





antheia, goddess of gardens, flowers, swamps, & marshes.
Antheia remembered her last day in Olympus quite clearly. She spent time with Aphrodite, tending to her mistress. The goddess of love lamented about past relationships and ignited about current flames. The goddess of flowers enjoyed listening to Aphrodite's relationships, honored to be there when one didn't work out. The goddess of love had a beautiful garden, tended by Antheia and the other Graces.

Antheia wandered around the flowers in the garden, not straying far from her mistress when screams echoed throughout all of Olympus. It startled the goddess, causing her to run to the screams. She knew her mistress wouldn't be behind her. When Antheia arrived in the palace of Olympus, a great beast caught her attention. Her eyes widened in fear, her mouth falling open at the sight before her. A hand went to her lips, fingertips gently grazing her upper lip as she froze in horror.

Within the monster's grasp was Athena, battling the beast. However, the goddess was not strong enough, quickly meeting her demise. Antheia watched as the monster tore apart Athena, tears falling down her cheeks, a scream caught in her throat. She wanted to scream out for the goddess, but she would draw attention to herself. She wasn't sure if she would be willing to risk death. A flash of lightning filled her vision, blinding the goddess momentarily. She blinked a few times, listening to Zeus scream in anger.

After Zeus screamed in anger, throwing the beast off of Athena's damaged frame, a swirl of light formed around Antheia. She looked around her as it enveloped her frame, confusion leading to panic. She was not sure where the light came from and where it was taking her, but she felt herself leave Olympus. She did not remember much after she left Olympus, only waking to a smaller frame and a new name. You are Gemma Reilly Huddleston, born to an Irish family in Dublin. You are on Earth, the year is 2020, a voice said inside her head.

Antheia squeezed her new form's eyes together, bringing a hand to her head. She slowly opened them, staring straight at a cloudy sky. Silence surrounded them; it was too quiet for the mortal realm. She slowly rose, the stench suddenly hitting her. She gagged, bringing a hand to her lips to prevent any further gagging. God damn mortals and their sensitivity to smells. She got up with the others, following along. A gasp left her when Zeus -- or should she say Ajax? -- had his throat grabbed by a rotting mortal. She backed up slowly, listening to Ajax's command to run.

The rest of the day was a blur to Antheia -- Gemma, she corrected -- and she was happy to fall asleep with the others once they found somewhere to rest. She slept deeply, not too far from Fauna. A soft sigh left her lips when she heard Aphrodite's voice, rousing her from her slumber. She stretched, curling her toes in her shoes, and tensing up each muscle in her body. She released the tension, opening her eyes, and pushing herself up. She looked around her, not seeing anyone of interest to interact with. She rose from the floor, pushing herself up to her feet. She chose to head out to the balcony, seeing Hades, Hecate, and Hera.

"Good morning, guys," Gemma said softly, shyly approaching the three powerful gods.




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♡ IYRA A. W. ZIMA ♡
♡♡♡
if you spend some money,
then maybe i might just fuck ya.





eros, god of love.
Everything was calm and peaceful in Olympus the day terror struck. Eros minded his business, giving his mother the attention she wanted. He sat with her Graces and her, gently running a brush through her hair. He hummed softly as he listened to his mother's exploits, chuckling as she ranted about her lovers that didn't show her enough devotion. He continued to care for his mother before screams interrupted his actions. His brows furrowed as he stopped brushing Aphrodite's hair, looking towards the great palace of Olympus.

"Antheia, wait!" Eros called out as he watched the female leave. He dropped the brush, abandoning his mother and the other Graces to run after the female. His wings sprouted from his back, flying after the female. It was faster than running, and running made him sweaty. He didn't want to ruin his hair nor make a mess of his precious skin. He needed to appear presentable at all times, and it was unbecoming if he looked like a mess. His mother would scold him if he looked a mess.

Eros landed gently behind Antheia, reaching out to grab his shoulder until he heard the roar of the beast. He looked up, his eyes widening in horror. There stood the Chimera -- which was very ugly in his opinion -- grasping Athena's lifeless form. Golden ichor covered the walls and floor of Olympus, pooling beneath the Chimera's feet. Eros felt anger rise in him, ready to fly up and try to defeat the beast himself. He liked Athena; the woman was powerful, and he learned some great tactics from her. Now, she lay dead, and he was ready to fight for her.

Anger settled on Eros's features, his feet lifting from the ground. Zeus's flash of lightning blinded him, making him unable to see the path to the Chimera and faltering his flight pattern. As his vision recovered, a light enveloped his body. "No, no, NO! I am not going! I have to save--" Eros was cut off as he began to leave Olympus. For a moment, he lost consciousness, groaning when he felt like he was hit by a bus. His eyes opened, and he realized he was on Earth.

Eros looked around him, sitting up quickly. His head throbbed, but he pushed it aside as he looked down at his hands. They weren't the godly size he was used to. He prayed this mortal form he was in was beautiful; if he were ugly, he would wear a bag over his head for as long as he needed to. He rose to his feet, looking around for the others. He spotted Aphrodite, joining her as everyone regrouped. He followed along with Zeus, watching the man interact with the oddly deformed mortal. Something seemed very off, but he couldn't place a finger on it.

Suddenly, the command to flee was given. Eros -- Iyra, a Russian voice said in his head -- ran with the others, staying close to his mother and Antheia. They ran to a hotel, where everything that came after became a blur. All Iyra could remember was the relief he felt when his head hit the floor, falling asleep quickly. He cuddled himself into a ball as he slept, snoring lightly. At some point in the night, he remembered cuddling up to Antheia, but she was gone when he woke up. He looked around, huffing softly when he realized he was one of the last to wake up. He looked around, seeing Jordan and Clovis talk. He walked over to Jordan and Clovis, settling an arm over Jordan and Clovis's shoulders.

"Hey there, stepdaddy. Your human form looks good. You're looking good yourself, Hestia. Do I look okay?" Iyra asked in a thick Russian accent. He smiled at the two, glad he could make conversation with them.




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❀ GEMMA R. HUDDLESTON ❀
❀❀❀
got things to do,
so many things to say.





Leaving the safety of Nebula and being thrust into a state she had never been before aroused anxiety in Gemma. However, she knew the others and her couldn't be dependent on the facility for the entirety of their life. They needed to get out in the world, learn how to navigate with their powers, and become independent. However, their independence still required some dependence. They needed to update Nebula on the status of their powers and how they were doing on their own.

Despite the sudden loss of comfort from a home she felt welcomed in, Gemma was grateful the others came to New York with her, providing her with a sense of family. The others apart of her year in Nebula quickly became a family to her, after the disorder from her parents' divorce and alcoholism. The others provided her with stability, but she was dependent. Daphne was a real dear to have around, as Gemma felt she could relate to the female the most. In a way, Daphne became her best friend. They both had caring instincts, making Gem wonder if that was why the two clicked immediately when she arrived at Nebula.

Gemma rose early in the morning, the sky outside plagued with darkness. A quick look at her phone told her it was six in the morning. She had a difficult time adjusting to places she was not familiar with. Her lack of sleep due to adjusting reminded her of her arrival at Nebula. She was up odd hours of the night, get a few hours of sleep before being up for a couple of hours. She was thankful social media and smartphones existed; it kept her company in that moment as she waited for the others to wake up. She knew she did not have to wait for the others, but she felt like six in the morning was an unreasonable time to begin her day, especially since breakfast wouldn't be until nine.

Gemma laid on her phone, browsing apps like Reddit, Instagram, and Twitter. She wanted to become acquainted with her local area, following subreddits or browsing hashtags with information on New York City. It was a busy city, full of giant rats, lots of attitudes, and yummy pizza. She hoped she would fit in with the area nicely, but she already adored the apartments. They had large windows and Daphne had a balcony she could put her garden on, perfect for Gemma. Her numerous plants received plenty of sunlight and she could have a small garden outside instead of her bedroom. New York also had a large homeless populace, igniting many opportunities and ideas to volunteer in the city. Of course, she needed approval from the higher-ups, but she felt they would bend. Just as long as she kept her powers in check and did not influence people, Gem felt confident of the approval.

At 07:24, Gemma decided her time to be a lazy bones needed to end. She got up, leaving her phone on her bed. The first task she attended to was a shower, lasting about thirty minutes. Once she was out of the shower, she got dressed, put her hair up in a high ponytail, and turned on some music. The music played at a low volume as she grabbed the watering can sitting by her dresser. She went to her bathroom, filled the watering can, and watered all of the plants in her room. She kept her plants in her room, knowing it would be easier to tend to them there and she would not burden anyone in case she rose early.

Watering her plants took Gemma twenty-five minutes to do. She glanced at the time on her phone: 08:45. She gently chewed on her bottom lip, spending five minutes to debate when she should go over. She was not sure if anyone else was awake at this time. She hoped they were, but did not blame them if they were late to the breakfast Daphne organized. After five minutes of debate, Gem decided to leave her room and walk over to Daphne, Devon, and Casper's apartment. She did not see Mara when she left, assuming the female was getting ready for the day. She left their apartment, quietly closing the front door behind her. She gently knocked on the door to the larger apartment, entering shortly after. The knock was a courtesy knock.

"Good morning, Daphne! It smells absolutely lovely in here," Gemma greeted once she spotted her friend. She entered the kitchen, but it was easy to do. After all, their dining room and kitchen were connected. She looked around her, her nose overwhelmed by the smells. She admired her friend's skill in cooking; she was a wonderful cook. Her mouth watered as she looked around her, doing her best to keep her hunger at bay. It would be impolite to dig into the meal without everyone else there.




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GEMMA R. HUDDLESTON

❀❀❀
got things to do,
so many things to say.
❀❀❀









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Aenean nec porta urna. Curabitur venenatis sapien non metus dignissim consectetur. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Aenean nec dolor sit amet ex viverra scelerisque. Vestibulum id orci a arcu volutpat consequat. Ut vehicula mauris tellus, nec efficitur mauris blandit id. Sed pellentesque in ante sed euismod. Vivamus sed turpis eleifend, accumsan enim tempus, cursus ex. Donec sit amet dolor egestas, egestas neque et, pretium enim. Vivamus ut arcu molestie, pulvinar massa a, eleifend est. Etiam nibh mauris, consequat auctor placerat ac, malesuada mattis tellus. Maecenas efficitur hendrerit felis nec pretium. Phasellus vitae nulla ac ligula condimentum iaculis vel eu lacus. Quisque sit amet ullamcorper dui. Vivamus vitae bibendum turpis.

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Nam commodo eget neque et porta. Pellentesque id urna ac augue condimentum sagittis. Maecenas sapien odio, convallis eu ipsum ut, pretium sollicitudin nisi. Quisque dapibus quam sit amet justo lobortis, sit amet vulputate dui euismod. Mauris iaculis rutrum vulputate. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nunc ullamcorper volutpat diam, molestie vehicula erat venenatis vel. Sed vehicula, erat quis aliquam bibendum, neque nulla rutrum felis, in finibus nulla turpis fermentum augue. Nunc dictum lorem nibh, at imperdiet turpis molestie id. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia curae; Nam ornare, erat id rhoncus aliquet, ipsum purus mattis orci, et suscipit tortor risus quis enim. Etiam vulputate sodales tellus in varius. Quisque ipsum dolor, imperdiet sit amet rhoncus a, posuere eget orci. Integer justo justo, porta et sagittis vel, vulputate nec arcu.

In at nunc egestas, vehicula felis vel, posuere mi. Integer pellentesque vestibulum ligula, quis porta neque imperdiet id. Donec eu tristique nulla, ac tristique neque. Suspendisse congue nisi nunc, eu facilisis purus porta a. Nam aliquam dapibus lorem, in dapibus justo. Vivamus efficitur pharetra interdum. Aliquam nec dui cursus, pretium eros eu, ornare lacus. Sed sed enim tincidunt, rhoncus diam tincidunt, tristique lacus. Duis erat tortor, placerat sed dui ut, fringilla rutrum mauris. Nullam non justo velit. Phasellus pellentesque sagittis iaculis. Nullam dapibus ornare tempor. Aenean ligula ligula, dictum in tempor a, ultrices sed est. Sed a enim nisl.



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