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1
Chaillot / Re: realization grew on me
« Last post by Noah Langevin on Today at 06:11:31 AM »
When she spoke of how she didn't keep tabs on the judicial side of things Noah gave her a noncommittal shrug. "People usually don't until they have need of it." It was spoken plainly and without bitterness. Noah actually -wanted- it to be that way. To not even cross people's mind, the juridical mess that the law was until they had need of it. That way when the law was broken, or the system of life tilted or went awry people could just.....tell. The world however wasn't made of candycorn and sugar and thus it would never happen. For Felicite at least..it seemed to be true. Noah never undervalued small victories.

Finally...the moment of euphoria had arrived. Noah stepped up and scratched at his neck as he spoke. "Medium Roast. Two cubes and a splash of cream." He then paid and YES! He didn't have to wait long at all. There it was. Liquified gold steaming with mocha-brown perfection. He took the coffee and sniffed it, shivering at the anticipation and took the first sip of coffee he had all morning. With the one sip he was ready for the day. Oh...Felicite was still talking.

She was asking about his preferred caseload. He took another sip as he stepped out of line with his cup of perfection, nurturing it like a mother and a newborn baby. "Everyone needs help, not just the Landen." He blew on the top of his cup and took another sip. "My casework is determined by how busy I am rather than whose asking." Far more simple that way in his logic. "Which right now is busy." He made a show of drinking his coffee for emphasis. He refrained from discussing his work 'outside' out of fear of tarnishing the case by getting popular sentiment wrapped up in it by tagging opinions to a legal question.
2
Chaillot / Re: realization grew on me
« Last post by Felicite Veilleux on Today at 05:49:17 AM »
There was some part of the brunette that felt a bit bad she even had to ask what her old friend had done with his life. Guilty for... not keeping in contact with people better, perhaps? Seemed like the befitting concept for what she was feeling at present; not that it was a bewildering notion. Life had been a whirlwind since she'd left home, really. Wasn't to say she'd forgotten where she came from or the people she knew, but simply that they had fallen victim to an unintentional bout of out of sight, out of mind. The only ones she'd purposely pushed away thoughts of were, in fact, her parents. Everyone else had been an unintended casualty of the matter.

Though she imagined Noah probably didn't view any of this remotely that way (clearly not, with the way they'd seemed to pick up speaking as though they'd seen each other yesterday) and she slowly decided it wasn't a musing she needed to dwell on right now. Instead, her gaze drifted absently between the man and the remaining couple of patrons that stood between them and the front counter.

"Really? Wow. I had no idea, although I guess I'm more than a little out of touch with the judicial system and who inhabits it." Despite the way some people liked to try and criminalize her choice in relationship partner, it was not, in fact, illegal. And that aside, the woman generally didn't do anything to warrant the attention or need of such things, so it fell to the wayside as one of the things she just didn't need to expend her brainpower on keeping up with.

"Congratulations though, that's great! I'm glad to hear you've found something you enjoy doing." Though she didn't say it aloud, she wasn't wholly surprised Noah hadn't ended up in the exact same occupation as his father. Despite his enthusiasm for it, he'd always had to work twice as hard as everyone else in the constabulary and it never appeared to pay off in her friend's favor. Law, though, the JOC... that suited him much more, in her opinion.

A niggling idea began to gnaw at the back of her mind, seeming to fall right into place like a puzzle once it all finally settled as to what exactly he dealt with on a daily basis. It was only half-formed and her brain was fighting rapidly to put the rest of it together so she stalled a moment, lifting her cup up to her lips and draining more of the coffee. "Do... you specifically work just within the Landen community or... do you take clients of Blood descent as well?"
3
Chaillot / Re: realization grew on me
« Last post by Noah Langevin on Today at 05:22:56 AM »
The Graves Institute. Noah had heard of it, fleetingly, in passing. Noah's work never had him cross paths with the Institute so naturally he knew little about it save it's reputation. Scientific conclave of eager young minds trying to scientify the world. Not his cup of coffee but he could respect the endeavors of those within it. He imagined himself at the Institute, asking someone who some contraption worked and then before they could speak he would have already broken it trying to figure out how it worked simply to say that he knew. The most scientific arm he had to come in contact with, sadly, was A.C.O.R.N. Best not to travel down that road.

Noah moved forward. Three more people until bliss. Oh. Felicite was still talking. "Me? Tired. Work has been busy." He eyed her when she said he looked how she feels at the moment and he blinked at her. She felt like she had to tell an adult where the bed touched her? He would have thought a scientist would have some tech-curative for that. Thankfully that thought passed when she asked about what he was up to and where he had landed himself. He was both put off that she didn't know who he was by trade and relieved at the same time. It seemed lately everyone and their dog knew who Noah was, or had some belief as to what he was. It was refreshing to not have someone get riled over something as stupid as prestige. People are more sensible when they take status out of the mix.

Father. Ugh. His mind naturally flipped five minutes ago to his mother and father...the mayoress and head constable. The mother who wanted Noah in politics and didn't want him in the constabulary and his father who saw him as unfit. Two and a half minutes ago they didn't want him around seeing him as a waste of effort and a free-loader who didn't contribute to the welfare of the village. Who didn't do anything when the village slowly turned away from him and isolated him and didn't bat an eyelash when Noah neatly packed his belongings and left to do what he wanted to do, since he couldn't do it back home. Then his thoughts flipped to fifteen seconds ago.

"PI work in La Rochelle for a couple of years, then got into law. Got a Court Jurist cert by the JOC, fast forward to today I am the Judicial Overseer of the JOC." He said casually, with no fanfare. It sounded automatic. "So not really in his footsteps. Never ended up doing policing...I still ended up his boss though." Ain't that a kick in the teeth.
4
Chaillot / Re: realization grew on me
« Last post by Felicite Veilleux on Today at 04:52:54 AM »
Felicite watched as Noah took on an expression that she knew all too well from their youth. The slightly focused, intense (though usually subconscious) look of someone rifling through the expanse of their mind in order to make a connection. Had it come up fruitless, she would've been happy to provide additional tidbits (maybe how mousy and ungainly she used to look? people told her she'd grown out of it but she hardly viewed those comments as compliments, they seemed rather backhanded to begin with).

A few moments later though, it seemed such wasn't needed and it brought a small smile to her face. She'd always been fond of Noah, so she was glad he'd managed to place the name. Their friendship had been unconventional by their parents' standards. The thoughtful, introverted sort of camaraderie that brought her peace and reprieve because he simply... didn't try to force her into conversation like the other kids did. Nor did he ever judge any of her wayward attempts at experiments or her outlandish theories about... pretty much anything.

"Yes, that's me," she affirmed, shuffling forward more as the line seemed to progress while they chatted. "And yes, I did. I work over at the Graves Institute now, actually. It's... really wonderful, honestly. I'm very pleased with the work."

There was a bit of a pause when he mentioned she looked happier. It was true... mostly, anyway. There were definitely a couple aspects of her life that she direly wished to see improve, but it felt wrong to drag such a somber undertone into a conversation with someone she hadn't seen in years, so she simply smiled and gave a quiet mmm, acknowledging the comment while not necessarily confirming or denying it.

"How about yourself? You look... how I feel right about now, honestly." Disheveled, circles under his eyes, that bit of unkempt scruff and hair that Fel inferred was just a little longer than he might've usually kept it. She visited that sleepless place pretty often; even if her outward appearance didn't always suffer for it, she definitely inwardly felt on par with how he currently appeared.

"What have you been up to? Did you end up following after your father?" He'd always held an interest in law and other similar things if she recalled properly, so she wondered if he managed to find success and happiness in that path or if he ended up deciding to chase after something else.
5
Chaillot / Re: realization grew on me
« Last post by Noah Langevin on Today at 04:26:20 AM »
Felicite Veilleaux. He flipped through his thoughts and found several of a very young Felicite and did a quick fact-check. The more -active- brainiac of the kids that Noah was forced to hang out with when he was younger in his parents' vain attempt to get him to socialize. Mannerisms included pulling plants apart to see what they were like inside to trying to make cattle-hands' lives easier by trying to automate cheesing. Typically with spectacular results that had nothing to do with cheese and everything to do with making half the village smell like it when it splattered everywhere.

They were friends, five minutes ago. Not the type of friends most people consider. It usually involved Noah doing his own thing and Felicite doing her own thing and them occupying the same space interacting now and again when one of them deigned the desire to say something. But for Noah that was the type of friends he liked: People who didn't care what you were doing so long as they were with you as you did it...even if they were doing something completely different. She went from blowing up cheese to more nuanced, more applicable things and desired to be a scientist while Noah struggled in the constabulary to ultimately be kicked out as not being good enough. Three minutes ago she got in a fight with her parents and left to be a scientist and two and a half-minutes ago Noah left to become a PI. Interesting.

"Ah. Hey there." Noah said giving a stretch with a voice that sounded like they only saw each other a few days ago. "No need to be sorry. It's not your fault. I didn't recognize you." Noah said plainly. "You said you were leaving to become a scientist. Your looking good. I assume you made it?" He said scratching his nose after he stretched and looked like he was going to yawn but feigned it away. "Your looking happier at least."
6
Dena Nehele / Re: Let Me Complicate You
« Last post by Narcisa Ciora on Today at 04:19:04 AM »
Sway was not surprised to find her apprentice once again reading a book in the rafters. She couldn’t name what it was between them. Some kind of connection, at once similar and completely different than what she held with Radu. With Shift, there was a sense of possession that they passed back and forth. Their sharpest moments were spent with weapons and blood, leading into lust and a closeness that she had not expected to find in the rougheded arms of the Blood Opal Warlord Prince.

With Nick, their connection was born of the silence that they granted each other, a deep communion while they held pieces of each other’s soul cradled in their palms. No less intense when they had finally come together, easing both the ache and tension that had threatened to consume her the night in their attic training space. While both Dark Jeweled Warlord Princes, and both her students, the two really have so little else in common, and yet there was an undeniable peace when she drew close to either of them that she found intriguing and desire to seek out more and more.

He knew her again before she gave any indication of her approach. His sight shield expanded over her, a now familiar and welcome presence, and she released her own, settling into conversation with him about the Queen who had granted him sanctuary without a second thought.

"Last summer she threw a party to reach out to the Aristos and secure more land to farm food. She’s determined to feed the entire Territory. She spent the whole night letting people treat her like shit and paw at her becauses it's what was needed." Sway glanced down at the people below. How many would be willing to do what Riley did? "She's a good Queen." She shrugged. "It gets her taken advantage of."

Nick’s gaze followed hers. "I don't--I don't think I know what to do with that." They fell silent for a moment before he continued. "I like her. She speaks plainly."

Sway tilted her head to look at him, studying his features for a moment. "I like that about her, too. She's ruled by her emotions. If she's pissed, you'll know." She remembered the times of the last few months when Riley had been pushed to the extremes of her temper as people she loved were constantly hurt or attacked. ”If she’s really pissed, the entire Palace will know. Watch for cold anger. Riley can freeze an entire room, just like a Warlord Prince can.”
7
Dea al Mon / Wind My Red Around Your Roots
« Last post by Epiphany Estinaria on Today at 04:18:43 AM »
Just before Winsol, 192 AP

Since moving to Glory Glade, Epiphany spent as much time outside as she could. It was colder here, closer to Glacia’s borders, but no one would know it by the way Epiphany traipsed barefoot through the woods that surrounded the village. She was slowly getting to know the trees that surrounded her new home. Some were quicker to respond to her touch than others, but such was the way with trees. When they lived so many of her lifetimes, what was a few months? She was patient, and would wait for them to accept her presence. Whether they would was not a possibility. Unlike people, who Epiphany often faltered with, trees were predictable when given enough time.

She was coming out of the forest near the landing web when she was made aware that they had a visitor. Epiphany felt his presence before she saw him. Storm. Warmth spread through her. Allure had been separated from most of her males while she had tutored Epiphany, but the young Queen had grown to know Storm well. Or as well as one could know Storm, as well as he allowed. Standing at the depth of the Opal, he had seemed so dark, so terribly far below her in the Abyss. She had admired his power, but she had never coveted it.

Now she stood only one step above him, her Red Jewel glowing softly against her chest, nestled still in its winding bed of living ivy. She wore a dress of equally deep red, in the style most of her dresses were coming to be made, offering only enough cloth to cover that which was needed.  She found she wanted the freedom of movement, the ability to climb or plunge her arms elbow deep into the earth, and yet still look like she could have walked out of a meeting with her Triangle at the same time. More skin and less cloth seemed to be the answer, one that she was becoming surprisingly comfortable with.

She broke into a run, her royal composure forgotten entirely for a moment as she raced toward the Gray Jeweled Warlord Prince. *Storm!* she called to him on a psychic thread, always remembering his preferences for communication. *Did you hear? Did Baelfire tell you? He stood guard for me during my Offering. It was so kind of him. Look!*

She was nearly vibrating with excitement, pride shining through her smile and glittering in her eyes. Neither of her parents had survived to see her through her Offering. Her heart still ached deeply when she thought of it, her internal grove missing two powerful and beautiful trees within her mind’s eye.

She wanted to throw her arms around Storm and hug him, but she didn’t know if such affection would be welcome. Instead she had rushed to him, nearly falling into him as she raised up on her toes, leaning in towards him but not actually touching Allure’s Warlord Prince. Epiphany might be the darkest Queen of the Dea al Mon now, but that didn’t give her rights to Storm’s affections, or anyone else’s.
8
Dea al Mon / Re: You Can Catch the Wind
« Last post by Epiphany Estinaria on Today at 04:18:00 AM »
Epiphany's lost Warlord Prince pulled her to him, his arms embracing her tightly. That feeling of home washed over her, the feeling that only seemed to call to her when she was with the males she trusted. More than a place, it was the very essence of what existed between them, Queen and Warlord Prince, allowing her to ease in some way that she never seemed quite able to do on her own and grew only worse around people that were not her people. It wasn't just the bond. Tarn and his daughters had certainly grown to feel like hers. Or perhaps she felt like theirs. Kin, not by blood, and not by Darkness intended bond, but kin all the same.

But with Squall, the bond between them sung in the sound of the growl that was released from his throat, guttural and filled with instinct, sung further in the soft sigh she made as her arms rose to encircle the back of his neck. He had grown so much she could hardly comprehend it, having to reach up for him. His muscular arms enfolded her easily, pressing her tight against him as he buried his face in her hair. Epiphany was content to stay like that for as long as he wished.

"Yes, yours," she breathed, smiling as she said so.

She believed him without question. He would stay by her side. He would sacrifice his life if it meant hers could be preserved. He would protect her with everything he had. Her beautiful lost Warlord Prince come home to her at last. She breathed in his scent even as he did hers, the sharp awareness of his caste, his Purple Dusk Birthright, his... She stilled in his arms. She hadn't noticed at first, so shocked and overwhelmed with joy to simply see him again. She had dismissed it. Maybe he just hadn't had his Offering yet. But no, here with him, this close, there was no mistaking it.

Her precious Squall had returned to her broken.

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as the depth of the realization reached her in full. "Squall," she whispered, tightening her arms even more around him, nearly lifting herself off the ground with her efforts to be even closer to him. "I'm so sorry." She didn't ask for an explanation. If he wanted to share his pain and loss with her he would. It was not hers to pry into what had happened to him while he was lost to her. So many things had happened in that time. He would tell her, or he wouldn't, in his own time.
9
Dea al Mon / Re: dismal Situation waste and wilde
« Last post by Epiphany Estinaria on Today at 04:17:23 AM »
Her instinct flared when he asked if she would keep him. Protective, followed by a quick and rare anger she barely understood, but took root in her stomach and twisted. What had happened to him that he would need to ask such a question? Queens flourished among the Dea al Mon, well nourished flowers each, and as such, so did bonds. To reject a bonded male was not just uncommon, it was, in Epiphany's mind, something of a sacrilege.  The Darkness bound souls together for a reason, whether it was known or not for what reason mattered little if at all. She would not reject one of her one. Her fingers tightened around his, the words fighting to spring forth and cry objections to even the idea she would do anything but keep him but... but. There was a reason he asked. Epiphany would not be so dismissive as to belittle his fears within minutes of their meeting. She just didn't understand.

Until she did.

Whatever trick of Craft he had used to mask his psychic scent faded and she looked at him in wonder. He was not just a Warlord, no. He was a Healer, as well. Eyes the color of the leaves widened, lips the shade of the palest pink flowers parted. She tipped her head, and her heavy blond locks fell over one shoulder. She released his hand, not unaware that he might misunderstand, but needing to touch his face, to brush a soft thumb cross his cheekbone, to sink her fingers into his hair, and pull gently until his face was hovering above hers.

 He was mud-stained with leaves and twigs caught in his hair. He looked of the forest itself, as if the trees had tried to mark him as one of their own. They had led her here, called out to her until she came to find him, alone and scared. She didn't know how long he had traveled or how far he had traveled from. She stared up into his eyes, clear and shining blue. And then she kissed him.
 
 It was the softest brush of lips, a promise offered along a bond so fresh and new, yet already wrapped in twining vines around both their hearts. "Yes, Hearsay," she said, her breath warm against his lips. "I will keep you." 
10
Chaillot / Re: realization grew on me
« Last post by Felicite Veilleux on Today at 04:00:07 AM »
Well, good news was that she wasn't wrong. Bad news was, apparently, the man had no bloody idea who she was. Which, well... made things a little awkward, but she pushed the thought aside and clung more on the fact that she was indeed correct. Fel honestly hadn't made a ton of friends throughout her life, which was fine because she would've surely been overwhelmed in a large social circle. Not to mention she was awful at remembering to write or spend time with most people (unless your name was Senja, in which case her universe practically revolved around you).

It didn't necessarily occur to her the reason why there was no recognition on the man's behalf, though it dawned on her that it could've been he wasn't a morning person and here she was... bothering him... in the morning. Damn. Then again, she didn't really consider herself terribly memorable in most aspects, especially not from such a long time ago, so the notion that he legitimately just blanked was the more prominent option at present. Fel wasn't really concerned either way, truth be told.

"Felicite! Felicite Veilleux. From back home? Sorry, I should've realized... it's so early and it's been forever and I was presumptuous... sorry! The uh..." she paused, trying to figure out any other apt descriptors to jog her old friend's memory. "The... science-y... one?"

... That was incredibly helpful, yes. Vague that up just a bit more, would you? Outwardly there was the slightest bit of a cringe at her lack of verbosity, but honestly what else was new? Nobody ever claimed she was some profound public speaker or socialite (though clearly this would be an example of why such wasn't the case). "Always coming up with the random little inventions, half of which backfired anyway? Though assuredly I've gotten much better at them!"
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