i dream of paris -- private

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  • [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=georgia]Sweetophelia was returning to her cabin, preparing to leave for Westeros - only temporarily of course, seeing as she shared a dual membership in both Westeros and BlizzardClan, and only briefly for she had never loved her birthplace with the same fervour she felt for BlizzardClan. She was going to have to speak to her eldest son, Jaehaerys, and quite frankly the BlizzardClan Head Combatant was dreading the encounter. Although she loved he and his brother, Lucerys, dearly, there was a certain awkwardness she felt in handling her new dilemma - moving on from the name, "Alysanne Targaryen".


    After making her bed, and generally setting everything in place for her absence, the tall Ragdoll cat exited her home, shutting the wooden door gently behind her. It was a cold day but Sweetophelia was in no particular rush to reach her destination - although the Targaryen did resolved to re-learn teleportation, seeing how usefully the power had served her in the past.
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  • [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 375px;][justify][font=andale mono]Riddlersgame was also trying to come to terms with the whole 'Alysanne is Sweet' thing, though not in the same way she was. In general, Riddler had never been the best with understanding how he felt when things like this happened. Emotions like anger or frustration were easy to interpret, but now he just felt... confused. He still loved Sweetophelia, but he hadn't felt as happy as he should have when she announced she was back. He desperately wanted to feel only joy, but there was something negative in there too. He hadn't even been able to say anything real when she re-introduced herself the other day - maybe if he went and talked to her, he would feel better, or at least be able to sort out what he felt.


    Steeling up the nerve to go visit her in her cabin, the tabby took a deep breath before approaching the small building. However, he stopped short as he saw the ragdoll emerge, and watched her in silence for the shortest moment, standing stark still. He had thought he had noticed some of Sweetophelia's mannerisms in the feline when he had still known her as Alysanne - now he supposed he really knew why. "Where are you going?" he blurted, having opened his mouth to speak but also having no plan of what to actually say. Where are you going wasn't exactly what he had come to talk about, but it was a start.

  • [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=georgia]Did she ever love Riddlersgame? As a friend, she had most certainly, but in the romantic light? Sweetophelia's emotions had never been truly tested, but she had thought that she had - even as she had placed herself in the company of others. But the Targaryen regretted those impulses for roaming and rash whirlwind romances now, especially as she reflected on her past encounters and realised that all of her relationships had been brief and had always felt... temporary - as if she knew that their days spent together was only to pass the time and that there were bigger things to look forward to. But she wasn't exactly going to go running into Riddlersgame's arms now.


    Nor did Sweetophelia truly believe that he would catch her should she try. They were both truly grown now, weren't they? Harder and sadder. Who would have been willing to wait for her through all of this time? Blackbutterflies might have gone to seek her out yes, but Sweetophelia didn't believe that the gesture carried any passion behind it - no, she saw it as one borne out of nostalgia for days of youth. "I'm going to see my son," she answered him bluntly, and then feeling badly for her tone. Voice softening, the BlizzardClan Head Combatant went on to elaborate, "He's living in Westeros and for the past few months I was under the false impression that he was my uncle - not son. The tyrant who had murdered our last queen has only just lifted the bounty on his head and I am concerned for him." She might resent Tsubodai now - he and his fleet of bastard children - but she still loved her sons.
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  • [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 375px;][justify][font=andale mono]In a manner quite dissimilar to Sweetophelia, Riddlersgame had never really experienced the same feelings of love he had felt for her for other people. He hadn't had other lovers, if you could even call Sweetophelia a 'lover,' as their relationship had never quite managed to evolve past a close friendship. He had tried, a few times, to further what they had, but his awkward mannerisms and somewhat creepy nature had always prevented it. That, or Sweet had been with someone else - and who was he to stand in the way of love?


    As she spoke, he tried to ignore the sharp edge to her tone, swallowing as his throat went dry and he gave a nod. He remembered discussing her two sons before, and feeling an odd sense of jealousy at the time. He still felt it, but it was sort of like an itch - annoying, but something that could be ignored. "I was... I was hoping to talk to you," he confessed, dropping his hazel gaze from her face and reaching up to adjust his glasses, though they were on perfectly straight, a behaviour somewhat revealing of his nerves. "But, if you have to go, I understand," he added quickly, glancing up at her again as he said this. "It sounds like you might have some urgent business to attend."


    Who would wait for her, after all this time? The simple answer, of course, was him - Riddlersgame would wait for her. The fact that this was true was definitely not just because he was loyal, or had really found his 'true love,' or something like that. No one normal would keep oogling after the same person after they had strings of lovers before vanishing without a trace. Yet, for Sweetophelia it was probably common knowledge Riddler wasn't completely normal - he had always been compulsive, overeager, and above all else, obsessive. It was the latter trait that allowed him to cling to his feelings for Sweet for all this time - feelings that still hadn't, and might never, go away.

  • [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=georgia]Would she have wanted him to fight for her? Yes - even if she had been with someone else at the time. If she truly cared for him - she would have ended her relationships right then and there, and Sweetophelia stood confident in her belief that that was exactly what she would have done, if only their feelings were ever actually confronted, aloud. But she supposed that now was not the time to linger on bitter regrets - after all, she too could have made the first move, if she had so wished. The blame was not on him.


    "No," the BlizzardClan Head Combatant shook her head, her mouth set in a solemn line. "I don't have to leave immediately." There were things that needed to be discussed between her and her son, but she imagined that neither of them were all too excited for the conversation. Sweetophelia could never be certain of how others felt, but she knew that for herself, for whatever unfathomable reason, she was embarrassed with "Alysanne". The Targaryen female was embarrassed at how she had gone on, completely clueless as to who she truly was and was concerned now that "Alysanne" was a bigger part of who she was than she had initially expected.


    "What is it?" She slowly took a seat then, backing up and gently setting her paws on the soft earth before her. Her dark, plume-like tail swayed back and forth, silent, as she waited for his answer. Truly, she didn't even know what to say to him, how they were to move on after this, because life certainly wasn't the same - not in the way it was before she had resigned and left BlizzardClan.
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  • [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 375px;][justify][font=andale mono]Perhaps, if Riddlersgame had just been a little bit braver and a lot less passive in his ways, things could have been different. As it had happened, however, he was who he was, and he couldn't change the past. Generally speaking, he didn't regret many things - letting Sweetophelia go, however, was his biggest.


    Quietly, anxiously, he watched the tall feline sit down, admired her fluffy tail as it wavered side to side. He kept his gaze low, avoiding her eyes, but he did manage to speak. "I know that, um, things are different," he started, feeling somewhat stupid as he stated the obvious. Under the pressure that he felt to make sure he said the right things, a quiet whisper had started in the back of his head as Ed clamored for involvement, but Riddler did his best to ignore it. "And you're different, and I'm different, and we can't go back to the way things were, or fix things," he said, rambling on for a moment. "But I want us to be friends." Like they always had been. Like they were supposed to be. Friendship with Sweet, at the very least, was something he had relied on when he was younger - taken it for granted. He had had a breakdown when she vanished for the first time, even gone as far as to blame himself.


    Yes, he still wasn't exactly sure how he felt - which was probably evidenced from his stoic reply when she first announced herself - but he did know that he cared a lot about her, and that would never change. He wondered if she had thought about their chance meeting in the loner lands so long ago, if she remembered some of the things they had said and if she knew that, hidden behind the nerves and the unidentifiable mixed feelings he possessed at her return, he felt the same way for her now as he did then.

  • [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=georgia]Sweetophelia continued to watch him, her pale lilac eyes intent. She had always preferred to look at other animals in the eyes when she addressed them or vice-versa but she imagined that if she demanded that he fully looked at her now, the brown tabby would be spooked by her forcefulness. Although even as a young and perhaps more foolish child she had never once had malicious intentions towards him, she was now concerned that their former friendship was in danger, even if she tried to treat everything the same as before.


    "I thought that we were already friends," the tall Ragdoll said finally, her mouth pursed into a thin line. Regardless of their status before this very conversation and after their last encounter in the summer months, she had still considered him, at the very least, a friend. She didn't know if she loved him - they had never tested a romantic relationship, and what she had once had with Tsubodai, had not been love and the regrettable affair had only served to end her naivety and idealism - but she was curious to find out.


    But of course, it was too soon, wasn't it? The Targaryen understood that he was still the same animal on the surface-level and so was she, but Sweetophelia had felt a chasm growing between them and she was determined to remedy that before falling victim to her hasty heart.
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