Posts by augur

[align=center][img width=250 height=160]http://38.media.tumblr.com/4a3…fbwkQfSe1twkyvlo3_250.gif[/img][img width=250 height=160]http://33.media.tumblr.com/c75…fbwkQfSe1twkyvlo1_250.gif[/img]

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][size=12][color=black]ATTICUS EVANDER BRENNING[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 10px;][justify]A soft hum escaped the lips of the older woman who stood behind Atticus, her wrinkled hands running against the white silk on his back. Gently tugging in places where it didn’t seem to fit quite right in her teary eyes that were hazed over in determination. She hadn’t spoken a word for several minutes, though her hands, however, hadn’t stopped moving, now reaching towards the cloak that laid draped across the chair beside her. Dark purple lined with soft white rabbit fur, heavy against the summer heat, but light enough for a nice walk around the castle gardens that Atticus had only briefly visited.

That morning he had ventured outside after breakfast, escaping the company of the king who was on his way down. A maze of bushes and exotic flowers, he nearly got lost in awe if it weren’t for the young servant who ran after him, calling out to him to come back, for the king had seated himself and requested his company at the table. Hesitantly, he stopped beside a bush of roses, bloomed and alluring in the morning sunlight. Again, she called out to him, as if he had not heard her the first few times. He did, however this time he answered, telling her that he would be in shortly. And being a man of his word, he returned shortly after grazing his fingers over the rose, a concealed thorn pricking his finger.

Securing the cloak by buttoning it around his neck, the old woman then began to adjust how it fell upon his broad shoulders. Her eyes fixed on the reflection of him in the mirror, she tried her hardest to make it look as even as possible after a few moments of pulling here and there. The dark satin fabric, an inch above the ground as he stood tall, short of six feet. The king himself considered the height manageable, for the real prince was only a mere hair shorter. No one would possibly tell the difference, the king assured him. Really, assuring himself, for Atticus could care less if the truth was spilt to the kingdom who was being fed lies.

Even Atticus, unaware of the truth until nineteen years of existence. Living a rather simple live with his large family on the farm, just outside of the heart of the kingdom. Bothered by no one except a few relatives who every so often visited from their homes in other kingdoms. It wasn’t until a few days prior when his family had been granted the opportunity to serve a drink to the young herald who knocked on their door early in the morning. Politely refusing the drink, he informed them with a letter signed by the king himself that their middle son, Atticus, was requested at once. He told them, in secrecy, that the prince had been killed by a dragon, and their son was to fulfill the prince’s role as if he had never died.

His parents seemed to take it with a saddened acceptance. They knew better to fight against the king’s orders, so after several minutes of trying to find a loophole, they slowly turned to their son and began to explain. When he was born, he was not born alone. He had a identical twin brother, named Milo. And, shortly after being born, the queen informed her good friends that she received the unholy news that she could not bare children. And, with no one decent to take the position, she weeped out of despair. Atticus’s mother, at this point, assured Atticus that giving his brother away to the royal family was not an easy decision. But they were good friends with the royal family at the time, and wanting the best for them, they sacrificed the younger of the two boys.

That afternoon, Atticus was sent on his way to the castle with the herald and four soldiers who didn’t manage to talk unless Atticus had provoked it. However, in his sulked state of conflicted emotions, he didn’t bother much, and instead tended to keep to himself during the long journey. His brain, the whole time, replaying his mother’s begs to forgive him, and pleads to make sure he stayed a good young man. His father, giving him a short hug before being ushered to leave, and with a scratchy throat, promised he would try and find a way out of it. His son was no prince, although no one seemed to care as Atticus growled it, bewildered.

Taking a comb, the old woman sat Atticus down and began to pry the tangles from his long hair. Hair, much more unruly than his brother’s. And with a blade, it was cut to a reasonable length. Never taking his eyes off of her, he watched as she slowly ran the blade over his jawline, beginning to shave the small hairs sprouting from his tan skin. She gently ushered him to stay still as he began to fidget, growing nervous of her shaky hands. Finally, with his sandy blonde hair combed back neatly, and his face cleanly shaven without a scratch, the woman stood there and observed the outcome of a few hours of hard work. Slowly, her thin lips curved into a small smile, her eyes beginning to tear.

"The similarity between you and Marvel is unprecedented." she admitted, bringing her fingers up to her lips with her other hand clasped on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. At that moment, he could only think of the mere fact that his brother’s name was not Marvel. It was Milo, and the king and queen had changed it as if Milo had never existed. But he did exist, and no one even knew besides the two families. Clenching his jaw, Atticus cleared his throat and abruptly stood, his eyes focused on his own reflection in the mirror. He was almost unrecognizable, even to himself. His skin was free of dirt and seemed to sparkle in the sunlight that filtered through the large window across the room. Scanning across his own body, he took in his trousers and expensive shoes, like nothing he had ever owned before.

He couldn’t grasp the life that his brother must’ve been living. Cooped up in the castle with servants bowing down to him at every breath he took. He couldn’t help but wonder whether his brother enjoyed the life he was given, or whether he yearned for something different. Undoubtably, Atticus wouldn’t wish for such a life. He much rather of been back at home, with his family. His real family. Not this one, where the father was the king and the mother was the queen. Unbendable to new ways in which Atticus considered old. His fate lied in their hands, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. The king himself had told him that, the night he arrived at the castle.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Jumping to attention, the woman rushed to the door, as if in a race. Opening it, she revealed the figure of the king, standing there with a small frown dominating his face. His grey hair, pressed flat against his head under the heavy weight of the crown that sat on the top of his long skull. He looked nothing like Atticus, making Atticus wonder how the common folk could be as stupid to believe in such a twisted fable. His eyes flickered over to Shiloh, who stood still, his neck craned around his shoulder. Meeting the gaze of the king who stood there, clearing his throat in preparation.

"If you will excuse us." he finally spoke, speaking to the woman who quickly nodded, widening the door and exiting as fast as she could possibly manage. Well, after bowing in return, of course. She couldn’t forget her manners, especially not to the king. That would be worthy of death. Shutting the door after stepping inside, the king turned to Atticus, carefully examining him. If he were pleased, he didn’t seem it. Far from it, in fact, as he allowed a rather loud sigh escape his lips. "Close enough, I suppose." he said, taking the initiative to break the long silence that followed his presence.

"They are here, waiting for you in the dining hall." Atticus didn’t expect them to arrive so soon. Surely, they were early. Or perhaps it took him longer to get ready than was expected. Yes, that was what it was. However, whatever the case, his heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t ready quite yet. The king seemed to sense this, and after closing the distance between them except by a mere inch, he growled, "You will do everything you were instructed to do. I will not have this alliance ruined because you couldn’t play your part." Atticus could smell the wine lingering on his breath. He held back a cringe. "Do you understand me, boy?"

A curt nod of the head.

"Speak boy, or I swear on whatever is holy, I’ll have you beheaded tonight!"

"Yes, your majesty, I understand." Atticus spat out, the words stinging his throat as they rolled off his tongue. However, it satisfied the king, and he took a step back, giving Atticus room to breath once more. Walking to the door, he opened it and looked back at Atticus, motioning for him to follow. The dinner guests were waiting, after all. There was no more time to waste. "And you will apologize them for having to wait for you." the king growled, taking the lead to the dining room that was across the castle. Atticus still knew not of how to get there, nor many other places. This was only his third day in the castle. However, no one would know that. No one could know that. He was Marvel now.

As soon as the door was opened, the guests at the table promptly stood. Their eyes, on Atticus as he entered the room. To them, he had just returned from slaying the dragon. He was a hero, surely to them, however at that moment, he felt short of one. He didn’t deserve the admiration that twinkled in their eyes. Especially the young woman’s, who the king had informed him would be his future wife. A girl of whom he deeply cared for, and had missed while gone.

"My sincerest apologies for keeping you waiting." he spoke, and to his utter surprise, his voice strong and unwavering. Nothing comparable to how he felt at that moment, advancing towards the royal family. "One must take the time to freshen up after slaying a dragon. It would have been quite inappropriate of me to come to dinner looking the way I did shortly after returning." He faked a light chuckle, bowing to her parents before turning towards her, his future wife. "Considering our special dinner guests." he added. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lifted his hand, taking a hold of hers and kissing the top of it gently, his eyes fixed on her the whole time. The fear of her telling that he was an impostor running through his mind the whole time.

"My sweet darling, how I’ve missed you so the past few weeks." He almost couldn’t stand himself, lying to everyone like that. Especially playing with this young woman’s heart who was beating for another man. A man who was dead unbeknownst to her. What grief she'd weep once told the unfortunate and honorable truth.

[hr]

OOC |
- Comments: Please excuse any mistakes. I tried my best to clean it up.
- Word count: 1,910

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][size=12][color=black]KALANI REHEMA STAVROS[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 11.5px;][justify]It was as if it were a dream.

Being found by oneself in the obscurity of someplace unknown where different shades of white seemed to clash with one another. They clashed with an eternal silence that was coated over with the soft buzz of the air regulator and the hushed murmur of voices that could be found outside of the room. And yet within the four white walls that held no decoration it remained eerily quiet which brought on growing intensities of malaise with every moment that seemed to pass.

With no recognition prior than the moment of waking came the quickening heart beat within the chest and the heavy breaths against the sterile air. Everything within the room clashing amongst each other besides the door which stood in victory for it could stand alone. It could see both sides beyond the walls and therefore was not stuck in the ceaseless oblivion that was the color white.

It could almost be heard laughing as it was slowly being opened.

The disquieting sound of shoes slapping against the tile flooring hushed the door back into its state of inanimateness. Every inanimate object within the room seemed to be still once more as if the white lab coat demanded it. There was a sudden sense of important urgency that filled the room and therefore the door never spoke again. Instead it grew still like the walls and occasionally allowed the slightest passing of sound slip underneath itself as the white lab coat grew more intimidating.

"It's good to see that you're finally awake." It spoke, laced with a sense of deception as the walls obediently soaked in the words and allowed the remaining echoes slip into the occupiers eardrums. It took a long pause from speaking, the hands trapped within the cuffs of the coat grazing the shaken body who laid in the bed. From the dried blood masking over the bruises on her face, to her chest where wires were scattered amongst her tanned skin.

And like a bird, the hands began to pick. Picking at the wires until they were pulled off altogether, leaving a faint mark where they had once been. It was left that way, with the hands pulling at the ends of her shirt until the marks were no longer visible. Their attention had been given away to the needle which was being held up in full view for the young woman to see.

It seemed to twinkle with the fluorescent lights that shone down on it.

"Your treatment is almost done, Kalani." Again, a sense of deception laced within the words that were being spoken to her in a lively voice. This voice was now the faintest bit recognizable, sealed deep within her memory next to the curiosity of where her injuries had come from. She could feel the blood hardening against her face with every muscle that twitched beneath her skin. "Just one more dose and the treatment will be complete."

And then, the needle vanished from her sight.

Injected into her neck without any warning from the lab coat, the cold substance quickly soaked into her bloodstream and was taken to her brain which longingly accepted it like an old friend. Within several moments, her mind was no longer her own. She no longer thought of the color white, or the door mocking her as it was swung open once more.

This time a man entered, stopping beside the woman in the lab coat. He watched Kalani carefully as she was instructed to sit up, which she obediently did without a fleeting moment of hesitation. He couldn't help but marvel over the change in her. The wild young woman she had been when she came in was gone and now a tame domesticated woman sat in front of them. All it took was three simple treatments involving a special serum that the lab had created specifically for her.

Stepping towards the bed, the man outreached his finger, hooking it under her chin until her eyes were fixed on him. "We have a special mission for you, Kalani, so make sure to pay very close attention."

[hr]

With sweat trickling down her face, Kalani slowed her pace as she rounded Grounders territory. She could sense their presence as she attempted to quiet her footsteps, her hazel irises scanning the trees around her. They were bound to be up there, watching her from above with a silent smirk taking over their rough features. She would've been a mouse walking into a trap if it weren't for the new alliance between the two. That was the only thing keeping her throat from being slit.

Careful with her footing, Kalani crouched behind a bush, her eyes surpassing the many branches that obstructed her vision and instead focused on the village that was before her. Several Grounders milled about, busy with their duties that kept them from noticing an outsider within the perimeter of their home. However, the thought had served as no major threat with the new alliance. It was no longer uncommon to see Sky People and Grounders within the same proximity.

Nevertheless, she kept low, careful not to break any of the instructions that had been given to her prior to leaving. They were to be followed to the tee if the plan was going to succeed, so as she withdrew herself from the bushes, she slowly pulled the loaded gun from her waist and tightened her grip, careful not to drop it.

Walking confidently into camp with her shoulders back and her chin held high, she received a few curious glances from those who stopped their work to look at the new guest. For a fleeting moment, some grew tense in weary suspicion, but not one confronted her with their sudden change in mood, in fear that they had been simply overreacting. The air hadn't even thickened and still remained mildly humid with a placid breeze.

It wasn't until she attempted to enter the Commander's tent when she was stopped. A sudden hand outstretched and keeping her from continuing on her way. Looking up, she locked gazes with a burly man of whom matched her irritated expression. "You need permission before entering." he informed her, stepping from his post in fear that she would narrowly escape his grasp. He reeked of sweat that was bitter to the taste, however Kalani was sure she smelt no different. She had been traveling nearly the whole day and had made it in record time.

After Kalani roughly removed his hand from her chest and pushed it towards the ground, he stepped back, a snarl escaping from the depths of his throat. He was suspicious of her, however he eventually turned his back and entered the tent after examining her, informing the Commander of her presence. He could've sent her on her way, however he didn't, and that was a deadly mistake on his part.

Waiting for permission, Kalani stood still, her eyes never lingering. Almost as if she were a robot, controlled by some outside source. Somewhere, far away, someone watching her with a remote in their hand and putting thoughts into her mind as she stood blankly outside of the tent with a loaded gun in her callous hand. The only thing about her that resembled livelihood was her matted dark brown hair that gently ruffled in the summer breeze.

That was it.

[hr]

OOC |
- Comments:
- Word count: 1,035

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][size=12][color=black]KALANI REHEMA STAVROS[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 11.5px;][justify]Whispers were carried delicately through the breeze like soft dandelion petals on an early summer morning. Drifting through the heavy rustic air until caught by an eardrum that grazed upon the hushed syllables in secrecy, or perhaps by mere accident. Nonetheless, the faint and broken conversations had manage to reach the impressive hearing of the subject, of whom stood by the entrance of the tent without the urge to turn around and face the accusations rumored of her.

Callous fingers wrapped tighter around the metal weapon as a voice suddenly rang out from the depths of the extensive tent, the crevices of both skin and metal merging to create a faint imprint that would only be visible against her palm if she were to dare release her grip on the handgun. However, she held no such intentions as her austere frame jerked into motion once granted permission to enter, bypassing the guard who held the curtain open for her in an apprehensive manner.

She was promptly greeted by the archaic smell of leather and various species of wood, which seemingly was the underlining structure that kept the leather from collapsing upon them. Tall protruding pillars of bark that leather was bound to and tied around, incapable of even shifting the slightest in the wind that had yet to prove any danger. Summer winds were nothing to fear, unless during a thunderstorm. Leather was the ground below their feet as well, concealing the presumably flattened yellow grass and dry soil that could not flourish from what little the leather could provide.

Focusing her hazel irises ahead, she met the intrusive gaze of the Commander, who sat as still as a marble statue that managed to survive many decades of war. This young Commander, however, undoubtedly had lived no longer than three. Her tan skin flashed no wrinkle crevices or substantial imperfections that one might have as the years progressed under rulership, nor did her eyes speak of any hardships that one might reveal once at an old age and close to death. Though her expression managed to remain hardened as Kalani stood there, allowing the Commander the opportunity to examine her throughly before speaking.

With her chin raised in a gesture of authority, the Commander gave one last visual examination before parting her lips. "What is it that you want, Sky Girl?" she was finally questioned by the still woman sitting upon her throne, which also seemed to be made up of several species of wood. Each piece a different color and a different texture than the one beside it, shooting up from the center in a jagged swirling motion until coming to an abrupt stop at various lengths. It seemed almost uncomfortable to sit on, however the Commander seemed to find no discomfort in it.

A small growl escaped the frowning lips of one of the guards that stood beside the Commander. The silence seemed to agitate him in a sense, his large and dirty fingers curling around the dagger that was protectively at his side. Or perhaps it was the gun that sparked anger within him, pointed at the young Commander as she rose from her seat and slowly but confidently made her way closer towards Kalani. Her finger twitched against the trigger as her eyes dared not to divert from the Commander.

"I advise that you put your gun aside." Advising was nothing more than a demand in this instance, her expression growing harder than it had been when Kalani first entered. It was an attempt to scare her, and although she stood slightly frightened, she refused to withdraw her arm. She could not allow herself to fail the Mountain Men, of whom had suffered greatly due to the Grounders. They deserved justice, and Kalani was determined to give it to them.

Slowly, she withdraw the gun from the Commander’s armor, however did not place her hand back to her side. She now aimed the barrel at her forehead, the cool metal gently pressed up against the tender flesh of the Commander. "I cannot put the gun aside, Commander." she spoke, the last word rolling off of her tongue in mockery.

If respect was what the Commander wanted, respect was the last thing she was going to receive. The girl had been taught to loathe her for the false evils she had committed against the Mountain Men. Brainwashed into thinking things that weren’t at all true, however told for a purpose, and one purpose only. To break the alliance that threatened the Mountain Men. If a Sky Person killed the Commander, surely the alliance would be broken and there would no longer be a threat of war on the Mountain Men.

"I don’t take orders from you." she growled, narrowing her hazel eyes in a state of distaste that the three guards now managed to fully express. Their bodies, stiffened with the urge to lunge forward and save their Commander from any immediate harm. However, they remained where they stood, refusing to move until their leader gave them the orders. But it was clear she was not going to any time soon, with no signs of fear striking at her expression.

Taking a step forward, only a few small inches separated the two women who were wordlessly fighting for dominance. The pungent concoction of leather and wool lingered on the Commander’s skin, tickling Kalani’s nose along with the faint smell of sweat. It was hot, that much was irrefutable. But under the thin layers of leather, they found themselves in the shade and protected against the harsh rays of sunlight. So, perhaps it was nerves that activated her sweat glandes. Perhaps, under her careful visage, she was growing nervous with Kalani’s presence. Her guards surely were.

With a nearly blank expression, Kalani decided to break the growing silence with a few choice words. "My name is Kalani and I have been sent here to kill you. The suffering you have caused to our people has gone on long enough." To the Commander, she surely sounded as if she spoke for the Sky People. But she spoke for the Mountain Men, her loyalty deeply embedded in the wrong people. All it took was one serum.

With her eyes locked on the Commander, she pushed the gun slightly forward, now pressing into her skin harder. "So, any last words, Commander?"

OOC |
- Comments: Powerplay with this all you like.
- Word count: 1,060

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][size=12][color=black]KALANI REHEMA STAVROS[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 10px;][justify][color=black]NAME
Kalani Rehema Stavros

NICKNAMES
None

AGE
Nineteen

BIRTHDATE
April 1st

ZODIAC SIGN
Aries

HOMETOWN
Boone, North Carolina

GENDER
Female

SEXUALITY
Bisexual

RANK
Member

[hr]

[color=black]HEIGHT
5"8'

WEIGHT
135 pounds

BUILD

ETHNICITY
- Greek
- Egyptian

HAIR
Ordinarily brown colored strands falling straight from her scalp until reaching her shoulder blades. Usually parted to the side along with her side bangs that she is growing out. Soft to the touch, unless not washed for several days, turning it greasy with oils and dirt. However, it is hardly found frizzy, even in the humid weather.

EYE COLOR
Green

SKIN

MODIFICATIONS
A few various ear piercings that she doesn't wear any longer due to the inconvenience. Prior to the apocalypse, she was planning on getting some tattoos, however that never happened. She is left with scattered scars throughout her body instead.

[hr]

[color=black]PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS
- Adventurous
- Confident
- Daring
- Freethinking
- Loyal

NEGATIVE TRAITS
- Assertive
- Blunt
- Moody
- Impulsive
- Promiscuous

LIKES
- Smoking cigarettes
- Animals
- Small children

DISLIKES
- The Walkers
- The dark

FEARS
- The Walkers
- Death
- Abandonment

DISORDERS
- Attachment Disorder
- Post Tramtic Stress Disorder

[hr]

[color=black]HISTORY
On April first, born in a small motel room clouded with cigarette smoke and the pungent fumes of liquor, Kalani was considered to be the April Fools joke. Born scrawny and premature, no one had thought that she would make it through her first year, considering her father's absence and her mother's unhealthy lifestyle.

However, Kalani did in fact make it well through her first year. She grew in height and gained fat on her bones within a matter of months, being fed graciously by her neighbors, a black family who were originally from Louisiana. They took her under their wing until she was a old enough to stand up for herself.

With her mother always at work, Kalani spent most of her time at home, cleaning the house. Collecting empty glass liquor bottles to sell for money, or sweeping out the cigarette buds that stained the carpet. When not cleaning, she would watch television, the cartoon channel where the characters never talked.

One day, with her mother desperate to earn some extra money, she was taken to the park where she was busy playing while her mother stood on the street corner. She completely managed to lose track of time, until she realized the sun was setting, and her mother hadn't yet returned. Before she could do anything, a policeman managed to spot her, alone at the park.

Kalani was put into the system after finding reasonable evidence of abuse and neglect. And, with her mother becoming a missing person after never returning that night, there was no one else to take Kalani in but various foster care homes. That was where she bounced around until the apocalypse happened, which killed all members of the home except her.

She managed to stumble upon the group after being spotted in an alleyway surrounded by Walkers. She was holding a little girl in her arms, of whom she found the in nearly the same predicament. Surrounded by Walkers with no viable means of escape. After helping the two, they allowed them to join their group.

The little girl did not survive much longer, however. She had unknowingly been scratched in the alleyway by a Walker. Kalani, with much hesitation, decided to end her suffering by shooting her in the head. That night, something had changed in Kalani. She had hardened, and never has been quite the same since.

FAMILY
- Father: Unknown
- Mother: Deceased
- Siblings: None

PAST RELATIONSHIPS
Several relationships far from serious and never lasted more than a few weeks at a time.

CURRENT RELATIONSHIP
Not at the moment, but open.

[hr]

[color=black]STRENGTHS
- Flirting
- Great stamina
- Decent aim

WEAKNESSES
- Weak stomach at times
- Inability to trust others
- Afraid of heights

PERFERRED WEAPON
Handgun

WEAPON SUPPLY
- Handgun
- Knife

OTHER SUPPLIES
- Packet of cigarettes
- Flashlight

[hr]

[color=black]USERNAME
Augur

SCREENAME
Augur

ACTIVITY LEVEL
9/10

MUSE LEVEL
7/10

FACECLAIM
Marie Avgeropoulos

OTHER
Major work in progress.

[align=center][img width=250 height=160]http://38.media.tumblr.com/4a3…fbwkQfSe1twkyvlo3_250.gif[/img][img width=250 height=160]http://33.media.tumblr.com/c75…fbwkQfSe1twkyvlo1_250.gif[/img]

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][size=12][color=black]ATTICUS EVANDER BRENNING[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 10px;][justify]Her voice hinted at no rising suspicions as he slowly released her hand, slipping from the tormenting reach of truth that was gnawing at his very bones. Perhaps, all it would take is one simple twitch of the wrong muscle, and the young woman before him would instantly accuse him of impersonating her true love, who, unbeknownst to her, had died a week prior. Probably, while she was praying for his safe return under the warm glow of the fireplace, he was enveloped in flames as well, however in this sense more literal. His body had been burned to ashes after he carelessly grew bold and decided to raid the angery beast. It was a mistake on his part that the family could not forgive.

But no one spoke of death as everyone took their rightful place at the table, seating themselves accordingly. He found himself sitting across from Isabella, a location for which she now had impeccable access to gaze upon him whenever she so desired. And, being as that their love had been parted for so long, she expectantly found it upon herself to keep her eyes steadily on him. He could not dare but do the same, his eyes twinkling with a false sense of delight that her presence seemingly brought to him. However, that was not the case below his skin, where his heart raced against his chest faster than a hummingbird hungry for nectar.

Slowly leaning back in his seat, Atticus watched carefully as a servant stepped forward to fill his wine glass, which sat before him empty. A sudden urge to show gratitude towards the young servant tugged at his vocal chords, but he was quick to restrict them, his jaw clenching gently as the wine glass was placed back onto the table, the servant quick to walk away. There were treated with a silent formality which Atticus couldn't help but find slightly uncomfortable, the importance of respect overriding his morals which the royal family seemed to rather lack. For a fleeting moment that he couldn't seem to help, his mind flickered towards the thought of his brother.

But before the thought could form into any serious harm, the attention settled upon his shoulders, their dinner guests eager to hear of his conquest with the dragon, an event that had been embellished within their minds. The dragon hadn't been killed at all, and furthermore, its scales hadn't even been grazed by a single blade. It managed to successfully kill those who were bold enough to approach it, and scare off those who weren't, those who arrived at the castle to bear the news of the prince's unfortunate death to the king and queen themselves.

With his fingers rubbing gently up against the intricate detailing of the wine glass, he took a small sip, the bitter taste threatening to cause his face to grimace. He was not used to such an exquisite taste of wine, but found himself rather fond of it immediately, the warm liquid poisoning his blood and causing him to relax a bit as he watched a young servant pour him another glass with several long minutes. Within this time he was watched closely, the queen seemingly dissatisfied with his behavior and the king growing rigid in the growing silence.

Realizing this, Atticus gently put down his wine glass, growing nervous under the pressure that was rising, although he remained calm on the exterior, clearing his throat to ensure no interruptions as he decided it appropriate to speak. "Wine tastes much better in the safety of a castle than it does on the mountainside with the company of a dragon." A light joke, which slipped from his lips in hopes that it would lift the heavy air that was compressing against his chest and sucking the oxygen from his very lungs. He only hoped that their guests did not feel similar, particularly Lady Isabella who sat still and silent, like a proper lady was expected.

However, once more, he could escape from the wishes of those who were growing eager to hear what entailed the death of the infamous dragon that reeked havoc amongst the kingdoms. And although he hardly knew himself, he was put on the spot, and did not have any other choice but to satisfy his future family. After all, that was his only purpose of being there. "I will spare you the ghastly details, taking consideration towards the ladies of whom I'm sure would not care to hear of such gruesome things." His eyes, for a short moment, flickered towards Lady Isabella, scanning her expression. He had hoped not to offend her, but was sure there was some truth in his words.

Taking his utensils, Atticus began to cut into his meal, growing hungry and needing a new scene to glance at besides the eyes that never seemed to waver. "You would think, with a beast as big as it was, it would be easier to track down. But it made home deep within the mountain, where no man would dare venture." He ate quickly during his short pauses, leaving his audience leaning forward in their seats, their eyes growing wide with anticipation. All except for the king and queen, who sat quietly and expressionless, probably praying that he didn't make a mistake.

"It proved even more difficult to kill, which was to be expected, with such atrocity it caused to the many villages." This much was true, several small villages within the three kingdoms ruined due to the dragon. However, a threat still remained, with the dragon still alive and angrier than ever. It was only a matter of time before the dragon returned, and the truth revealed itself. That, the king and queen, had not managed to think of when coming up with their devious plan. "However, no one is to worry any longer, for it died its rightful death and justice was promptly served."

Served, as well, was the last of dinner, the servants quick to remove the silverware from the large wooden table. And with the wedding discussed, the two lovers were granted leave, to the privacy of somewhere else within the castle. Atticus was quick to suggest the garden, knowing where it was located, and hoping that she would find it satisfactory. The moonlight surely shone down on the blossoming flowers, leaving them radiant even under the stars.

With his hand gently in hers, he escorted her out towards the garden, two knights following behind at a slower pace. Precautions had to be taken towards the two, considering their high status. Atticus, however, wasn't bothering by it, finding some safety in the two shadows that lingered behind them. He dared not speak, hesitant to say the wrong thing, and cause suspicion. So he walked along silently, allowing her the opportunity to speak first.

[hr]

OOC
- Comments: Sorry, it's a bit rushed in some areas.
- Word count: 1,140

[align=center][img width=250 height=150]http://33.media.tumblr.com/c0f…wveqQ1qf33ieo8_r1_250.gif[/img][img width=250 height=150]http://31.media.tumblr.com/9c4…wveqQ1qf33ieo2_r2_250.gif[/img]

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][color=black]ZALTANA [color=black]AYASHA [size=12][color=black]WHITE
[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 10px;][justify]The sweet smell of champagne lingered from the mouth of the bottle and into the air, and for a short moment, Zaltana wished to reach out and taste the drink herself. Drink the entirety of it, in fact, until her mind grew hazy and her lips were stained with regrets. Perhaps that was Jo's intentions as she took a large intake, her head cocked back and the bottle up, Zaltana simply standing there and watching as the girl grew drunk around her.

It wasn't until she turned around when Zaltana straightened out her back, forcing the lingering thoughts of envy to leave her mind as the girl addressed her. She had bowed dramatically before her, the light drink taking to her mind more than expected. But she still seemed to have her senses in tact, quick to leave Zaltana before she could manage to insult her. People were very quick to leave for that very reason, and various other reasons that all went up against her.

And for that reason alone, Zaltana took up on her offer. Not that she particularly wanted to, but the fact that there was a challenging tone within Jo's voice made her mind up rather quickly. She was going to prove herself to her, as if she really had to. She didn't have much to prove, except for the wavering idea that she was not the social type. She was, believe it or not, it just didn't present itself. So, she took this at the bet, and stopped Jo in her tracks.

"You'll soon regret making this offer." She caught up to the girl, walking beside her at a reasonable distance. Even though, in the frigid weather, it would've been nice for some warm body heat, but Zaltana found it incredibly inappropriate, considering their forming relationship. "It is not I who will hate you by the end of the night, it is you who will hate me by the end of the night." A small smirk, however quite serious. "It's only a matter of time."

[hr]

OOC |
- Comments:
- Word count: 340

[align=center][img width=250 height=150]http://33.media.tumblr.com/c0f…wveqQ1qf33ieo8_r1_250.gif[/img][img width=250 height=150]http://31.media.tumblr.com/9c4…wveqQ1qf33ieo2_r2_250.gif[/img]

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][color=black]ZALTANA [color=black]AYASHA [size=12][color=black]WHITE
[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 10px;][justify]Eyes narrowed in a sudden outburst of exasperation, Zaltana nearly stopped in her tracks when she was deemed adorable, and then titled a princess, which only made her emotions more intense. Anyone with the right decency, or perhaps common sense, wouldn't be so bold to mock her, or degrade her, in such a way, although unintentional. However, she could not surpass it without a few choice words, her tongue as sharp as the air that chilled her pale skin.

"I wont be so adorable when I shove my fist down your throat." she growled, her eyes growing cold as she stood there in the snow, nearly oblivious of the dropping temperatures as hers began to rise. "Say something stupid like that again and you won't be able to talk anymore at all." She was callous, yes, but that was to be expected of her. Everyone knew what she was like, so the gentle hearted tended to stay far from her.

Catching up to her slowly, it wasn't until they were face to face and merely a few inches apart when she spoke again. This time, softer, her words more controlled, however holding that strong tone that never left her words. "I just stood up for your ass back there. And, although I'm sure you're very much capable of standing up for yourself without any help, take it gratefully. I'm sure you're well aware that I usually wouldn't give a rats ass."

Finally, they arrived at Jo's room, a beautiful space that consisted of birch wood paneling and white ceiling. It was hardly what Zaltana was expecting, considering Jo was the daughter of Hades. She expected a much darker theme, however wasn't disappointed. She took it with indifference, closing the door behind her promptly and then making her way over to the window seat, where she was handed a chalice of whiskey.

"As long as its got a hard kick." she murmured, silently laughing under her breath for a short moment. "When I drink, I don't bother myself with the weak stuff." she spoke, glancing over at the girl as she lifted the chalice to her lips, taking in a large sip. It tasted to good on her tastebuds, it almost made her smile as the bitter liquid ran down her throat and poisoned her blood. It was only a matter of time before she forgot.

[hr]

OOC |
- Comments: Sorry it took so long, I was out of town and forgot to tell you.
- Word count: 405

[align=center][img width=250 height=150]http://33.media.tumblr.com/c0f…wveqQ1qf33ieo8_r1_250.gif[/img][img width=250 height=150]http://31.media.tumblr.com/9c4…wveqQ1qf33ieo2_r2_250.gif[/img]

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][color=black]ZALTANA [color=black]AYASHA [size=12][color=black]WHITE
[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 10px;][justify]For a long moment, almost seeming as if an eternity, Zaltana allowed her new acquaintance to speak her mind. She once again admitted fault, acknowledged Zaltana's feeling within the current situation, compared Zaltana to a rubber band and coiled spring, and then finally proceeded to, yet again, speak with a tone that Zaltana found to be mocking her intelligence. She was in fact well aware that they were not going to play Monopoly, nor did she ever think so. What Jo truly had in mind, however, is what perplexed Zaltana, as she drank her whiskey wholeheartedly.

Leaning back, Zaltana allowed her lips to tug into a small smile. A smile that did not reveal happiness, but instead devious curiosity, like a cat playing with a mouse moments before it would be swiftly killed. "I didn't have the slightest intentions of wanting to play Monopoly, even if that were your truest desires." The truth, spoken matter-of-factly as her hand held up her chalice, her elbow resting against her side. "Tell me, daughter of Hades, what are your truest desires right now?" A eyebrow challengingly cocked, a small smirk on her face.

"My desires were to drink some whiskey and see how long it would take before we couldn't stand each other any longer." She let out a very short laugh, because it were true. It was a sick game to play, but she didn't see many other options, besides Monopoly, of course. And that game terribly bored her, like most other games that consisted of cardboard and playing pieces. It were for people who had nothing better to do with their lives, unlike her. "And, by the looks of it, my desires will soon be met."

Leaning back ever so cooly, she watched Jo with careful eyes, scanning the young girl for answers. Jo was up to something, Zaltana could tell that much, with her snuffing the fire. But her intentions still stood unclear. Her words were soaked in a tone that slightly left Zaltana on edge, however she fought to show such emotion. "My skills are in battle, not mind control, Jo." The smile faded quickly, leaving a slightly irritated expression once again. "Cut to the chase."

[hr]

OOC |
- Comments: Me too!
- Word count: 370

[align=center][img width=250 height=150]http://33.media.tumblr.com/c0f…wveqQ1qf33ieo8_r1_250.gif[/img][img width=250 height=150]http://31.media.tumblr.com/9c4…wveqQ1qf33ieo2_r2_250.gif[/img]

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][color=black]ZALTANA [color=black]AYASHA [size=12][color=black]WHITE
[hr]
[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 10px;][justify]An internal confliction grew within Zaltana as Jo slowly began to undress, revealing herself so openly before her. Whether to lay her eyes upon her body grew into an argument within her mind, shame on both sides, however weakness only on one. So she boldly looked, her eyes intrusively scanning Jo's body, slightly hoping that perhaps if she were to continue starring, Jo would feel self conscious enough to put her clothes back on.

However, on the other side, she wished no such thing. She wished her to reveal even more, all exposed and both vulnerable. That thought, unlike the first one, was pushed quickly away, out of fear that it would dominate her mind. But she couldn't help it, her eyes grazing upon Jo's body as she grew close, leaning over Zaltana, reaching for a cigarette. Her skin, right there, Zaltana could reach out and touch it with her finger tips.

At first, Zaltana was going to object to the little game Jo was trying to play. After all, she hated guessing, and found it rather pointless when instead the truth could be told. Letting out a small sigh, she took another sip, gently leaning back, as if succumbing to Jo's wishes. Succumbing to her own dark wishes, perhaps, that she had not yet admitted to. "With you undressed and nearly naked, my options are now severely limited."

"You desire your own drunken fantasies." A broad guess, shot in the darkness of the unknown. Or, perhaps she did know, and wasn't quite ready to say, because to say it was to face the situation head on, which at other times, she wouldn't have a problem doing. But she hardly found herself so close to a exposed woman. "You desire dark fantasies that hardly see the light of day. And, if I'm wrong, do stop me."

A short pause, her mind fumbling for the right words. She didn't want to mess this up, considering she began to walk on very thin ice. "You desire what any woman would desire, exposing herself in the company of someone else. However, I'm sure you don't truly desire that, being that we are hardly even acquaintances." Another pause, her mind searching for the right answer as cigarette smoke traveled up her nose.

"You desire control over me. See how long it takes to make me completely vulnerable." She slowly leaned forward, her soft lips slowly parting as they threatened to break the space between them. But they didn't, instead stopping inches away, a reasonably safe distance. "Is that it, Jo?" she asked seriously, cocking an eyebrow once more. "Because if that's so, two can easily play at this game."

[hr]

OOC |
- Comments: OMG same! They're so perfect together with their adorable imperfections. <3
- Word count: 445