The Selection: Semi-Advanced Roleplay discussion

It hadn't taken Elysia long to understand the general layout of the castle. Yes, it was huge and complex with a lot more rooms that needed, but in theory it was just a house - combined with a few other things. Rooms would be grouped by general usage. So it came with no surprise to Elysia to find herself in a large room with vaulted ceilings, a multipurpose room without a strong identity, to the right of the entrance hall.

The car had dropped her off at the front and left her with her one meager bag to find her way to the entrance. Of course it wasn't difficult. Even a two year old would have been able to follow the throng of teenage girls in frilly, ridiculous dresses. Elysia had opted for something s little more subtle. A dress that fit snug to her body, showing off her physique, in a complementary shade of deep red was all she needed. The red fabric draped over one shoulder as tulle accentuated her hips. Minimal makeup, just eyeliner and mascara and the slightest pink on her cheeks and lips. Just enough to be noticed, just enough to look a tad more mature than most of the other girls.

She dropped her bag to the floor beside the entrance, making her way further into the room. The babble of voices drifting from down the hall grew more faint, thankfully. Elysia was not in the mood to socialize. She had already formed a picture in her head for most of the girls: there would be the rich, bratty ones, the meek ones, the bubbly ones, and the ones who didn't want to be here. Elysia did not see herself as any of these, of course. Which was why, before even meeting any of them, she had already begun to drift away.

((Haha, one of my selected would be great friends with her))

Em had returned to her room with the rifle hidden beneath the folds of her skirt, and she praised herself for having the insight to sew pockets in the inseams of all her dresses, just in case. After stowing away the rifle with her revolver, she'd changed into the dress she had been wearing when she had entered, a simple, elegant white dress with a slit that was bold enough to be noticed, to give a hint of sensuality, but not so high that it revealed anything or gave illusions of raciness. All in all, Em had dressed far more conservatively than any of the other girls-- her make up was incredibly subtle, just some mascara, hints of neutral eye shadow, a bit of bright pink to make her lips pop and faint undertones of blush.

She had gone exploring-- hearing the girls chatter, slam doors, cast her judging looks, feel the claustrophobia of having 35 rooms cramped together in one hallway, no matter how big the rooms, was too much. She thought she would've been used to this by now, after all, she had lived in a seven story apartment, but this was different. Back home, everyone minded their own business. Here, they all seemed to do anything but.

She searched for emptiness, for the illusion of freedom, of openness, and she found it in the great room, in vaulted ceilings and mostly open space, albeit for some furniture. Her brown eyes sharply took in everything, stopping at the figure of a girl in a deep red dress which contrasted starkly with her black hair and pale skin. Skin white as snow, hair black as night... come to me, my dear snow white, she thought to herself, a line her father had read to her coming back the image of this girl.

Em's face was passive, she didn't want to be disturbed and she made that clear by dropping her gaze from the girl after only a second or two and then walking in with her feet bare, choosing a seat next to the window and losing herself in thought, never forgetting, but sucessfully ignoring the other figure in the room.

[Safe room, I do believe]

Princess Sabella was disgusted. The thought of love at such a time made her want to be sick. Since the man she desperately wanted to marry, and was engaged to, called off the marriage, the Selection was something to be avoided. Her thoughts were swirled hate and sadness. Only a few weeks ago that had happened. The ring came off and her lover left. But why should she still hope for his arrival again? The magazine showed he already married. That was one of the reasons she no longer flipped threw the pages. The pages that brought her joy as she would sit in the garden with him. Sabella had to stop dwelling on the past, but that wouldn't happen.

This was the first time she has been out of her room for a long time. The only reason was because her maids forced her out so they could clean her room. A black dress with long lace sleeves went to her wrist where it meant the same colored lace gloves. The gown went dramatically past her feet and it followed after her as she circled the great room. A rose played in her hands and she couldn't help but let a tear drip down her eye. The same type of flower given to her by him. The same type of rose that would never be given to her by him again.

Elysia stood, fingers running lightly over the smooth fabric of her dress, not really doing much of anything at all. The silence in the room was overpowering, but it was a gentle lull, something that Elysia drifted towards gladly - until the soft click of shoes on the marble floor alerted her to the person coming down the hall towards the entrance to this room. There were no other doors on the hallway - Elysia remembered - so the girl (the gait and quite simply the sound of the shoes told her this much) was headed towards the room. Elysia did not turn around, instead continuing to stare thoughtfully out the windows until the other girl had entered the room to her left.

She was pretty, blonde and fair-skinned with a look of innocence that belied the muscles on her arms. Elysia knew what a girl who knew how to fight looked like - she was one herself - and this was a girl who knew how to fight. This was also a Seven. Emerson something Argent. Elysia had paid attention to the other 34 Selected. Not to "know thy enemy" or any of that crap. But because it was her job to know. That's why she was here. Not for some stuck-up prince who had nothing better to do than to host 34 girls swooning over him - most likely faking it - until one caught his fancy and became his wife.

What an awful way to choose your lifelong partner.

Emerson made a second of eye contact before dropping her gaze and making her way to chair beside the window, clearly unwilling to make small talk or any other conversation. Clearly, this was a girl less like the other frivolous Selected. Elysia did not mind the silence; she had yet to figure out her persona for this competition. It would have to wait until she met the prince. How she acted would reflect what would complement him obviously. But for now, she had decided to play it safe, stay on the quiet, more mature side while keeping an air of fun and mischievousness about her, just enough to make the older generation approve and the younger like the dancer with the Asian features and quick, witty smile.

Maybe she'd speak at some point, really find out what there was to know about this other girl. But later. Once the silence had begun to sour.

((So should Sabella and Rose be here at the same time as the other two, or different times, or should Sabella and Rose find somewhere else to go?))

((Maybe go somewhere else?))

((Okay, where do you want to go?))

Em didn't know what to think of this place. Was she homesick? Definitely not. But she was sick of running out of places to explore, of having to spend the next however long cooped up in this place. Did she want out? No. She had met the prince, and while she did not know if he was something worth fighting for, something worth keeping, something worth sacrificing her independence, her anonymous face, her own desires and wishes, she knew enough to know that at heart, he was not a self, spoiled brat like some had suggested, like he himself had suggested at one point, and that like most, he was tenfold more complex than everyone had suggested.

She wasn't liked here, but that was common enough. First, she had been a child raised by a lunatic of an Eight, then a pretty litle girl, barely a woman, working against men twice, sometimes three times her age. Here, she did not stand out because of her age, size or gender but simply because of her caste. It was fine. They underestimated her, and that was good enough. Invisibility would come in handy. She would choose to be seen only by those she thought worthy of knowing, of seeing.

She had not forgotten the other girl. Elysia. A pretty name. She glanced at her briefly, the girl who stood, looking much taller than she really was, regal, still but for her hand which ran over the fabric of he dress, Emerson pointed out a fighter. The type of girl who had learned to fight to survive-- but survival of a different kind. Different they were in coloring, but their build was incredibly similar.

She was a Five. A dancer. So why did she have to know how to fight? Emerson was not one to make assumptions. Time would tell. Until then, she would take care not to underestimate the girl in front of her.

Em closed her eyes, and inhaled and exhaled in sync with the silence. Meditation, her father had called it, when he could not differentiate between voices, when his head hurt so and the world spun round and round and round. Insanity is relative, he said. If you think you are in control, if you believe you are the one pulling the trigger, than that is enough. There was wisdom in his insanity. A little smile escaped her lips. Yes, there was some reason in madness indeed.

[I have no idea where I was going with this... Sorry for such little action]

[Filler post is filler? Das okay~ I'll figure out some way to work with it... Later... xD]

[I'm trying to see how quickly I can respond to all my RPs so my quality is lacking xD :/ sorry? Haha that's fine]

Elysia looked at ease, but she was on guard. She noticed Emerson's quick glance in her direction, the calculating, observant look that held much less judgement than others who had less of a right to judge. Often enough, those who judged quickest were those who did not care to learn enough to be entitled to judge. Elysia respected this girl's restraint.

She also respected the fact that Emerson had probably picked up on more than most would. Who knows why - most muscles could be explained away by a relentless dance regime of stretch and strengthen and practice, and Elysia was a good enough to dancer to make this story more than plausible.

The hand that had been gliding over the fabric of her dress came up to the shoulder of the gown, tugging slightly at the seam where it settled on her shoulder. The dress was beautifully made, each thread perfectly in place, the shade and shape complementing each piece of Elysia's form and appearance effortlessly. She almost felt bad wearing such a beautiful piece of art. Glancing towards Emerson, Elysia's mind made an unconscious decision, and her feet carried her over to a futon near the window. Plopping down, she remarked conversationally, "I love dresses and all, but the restriction of movement is killing me slowly.

"And it's not like there's any prince here to bask in my queenly glow," Elysia joked, and without further ado kicked off her black pumps, hiked up her skirts a little, and pulled her legs Indian-style up onto the futon. "Have you met many of the other girls? I'm assuming a majority will be quite tedious. Though you seem the exception," Elysia continued, a look of innocence on her face, one that waited quietly and brightly for Emerson's response.

Just a normal girl, witty, slightly hyperactive, friendly, and not really here for the fame or the chance to be queen, but here simply because she was drawn at random, and that was that. This was the image Elysia had decided to go with for now. It wouldn't be difficult to tweak such a simple facade later on, to slowly shed certain layers and add other complexities. The foundation had to be simple if it was to survive the weight of the complexities rising above it later on. That was the trick to most deceptions, especially long-term ones. The slightest amount of truth, enough so the trickery wouldn't be difficult, an easy start, and then the building of the real person - or the fake one, depending on what one saw it as. The prince, of course, would be the deciding factor. There other girls, the media, the family, they were the extras.

Em could see the mask sliding on, effortlessly, naturally, smoothly. They all wore masks-- including Emerson herself, only she had been wearing hers for the past 2 years and hadn't bothered to try and take it off. The girl in front of her evolved from a calculating, cold, colossal power to one who looked like any other face. Witty, talkative, unsure of why she was here and what she was hoping to gain. Em didn't buy it, but she would let it slide. It was easier this way.

She grinned at Elysia's criticism of dresses. "Give me comfort over beauty, any day. How is one supposed to run away gracefully in fright when she meets the prince in this sort of garb?" She adapted the wittiness, something she was all too used to. Laugh it off, laugh it all off. Laughter, the cure for all maladies.

The girl suddenly made herself comfortable, kicking off her shoes, plopping onto a nearby futon. Em's feet were already bare, and she took this as an invitation to jump up onto a table which was ornamented only by a pair of silver candlesticks, brushing them off to one side in the process. "Well, seeing how over half of them refuse to interact in any sort of way with the lowly Seven, I can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting most of them in person. Tedious, isn't quite the right word. Just restricting, much like the dress." Em ignored the compliment completely, not wanting to let such a reply become a bridge for small talk, not interested in what the other girl had to say to her.

She was friendly, that was sure, but she was also the girl who wanted to be alone. Who wanted space. She would not be so easily won over by the innocent look on the other girl's face. Elysia was not innocent. She could see it from the muscles rippling beneath the glowing, white skin, from the sharpness in her eyes when she had first entered. But she was friendly, and in their knowledge of what it was like to fight, to struggle, there was a bond between the two of them, however small.

Obviously, Emerson wasn't buying it entirely, but she raised no objections. She simply accepted Elysia's half-truth at face value and did not pry. Elysia respected that as well and decided that this girl, with her observant eyes but nonjudgmental manner, would be a good person to have on her side. So Elysia decided to let herself be a little more herself in front of Emerson. A little more mischievous, a little more flighty. Just a tad, so that if truth ever did come to light, Emerson would be more inclined towards Elysia.

Elysia was a master manipulator, after all. Each action, each word, had a purpose and a reason behind it. "Why would one be running from the prince? Isn't one supposed to swoon or faint?" Elysia replied with a raised eyebrow, a small smile hovering on her lips. "I'm less of a fan of fainting than I am of constricting dress, though. I'll keep the dress." Emerson easily hopped up onto a table, pushing two candlesticks away nonchalantly. Suki had trained these eyes, and so Elysia was quick to notice the lack of shoes.

"You can save your pleasure for someone who deserves it," Elysia countered, tilting her head back slightly to look Emerson in the face, as the other girl now sat a foot or so above her - one on the table, one on the futon. There was a small spark present in her dark brown eyes, eyes that looked black with the right lighting. Obviously, Elysia was not as innocent as she sometimes liked to pretend, not by a long shot. "Seven's just a number; an ill way to categorize a person." She had been quick to pick up on Emerson's lack of interest in trivial topics, and so Elysia did not go there. Frankly, she found talking about the weather and dresses and how one was feeling that day - the answer was always, without fail, 'fine' - boring.

Trying to figure out this girl, with her blonde hair, with knowledge behind her angel eyes and muscles beneath her skin, sounded like a much more interesting way to pass the time.

Elysia grew bolder, recklessness gracing her form, so much more different than Em's first impression, sliding further and further away from coldness and regality, that Em felt more puzzled, uneasy, than anything else. Was Elysia trying to prove something? What did she want from Em? Emerson shook herself from her doubts, from the questions rising up-- it wasn't worth it. Assumptions were dangerous. The girl was who she was, and if they were contradictions, than so be it.

"Why would one run? Think of it this way: I could pull of cowardice with dignity, but swooning or fainting, well, in the process of losing my consciousness I would also end up losing all self-worth in the process." It was always a joking tone. Laughter, humor was the way to unarm people, to win trust, to win favor. It had been what kept Em from losing all hope, losing all humanity in the darkest of places and she wasn't going to let go now. She knew this girl was trying to figure her out-- calculating eyes, eyes that missed nothing, but Em wasn't one who lived in the realm of black and white.

She was contradiction after contradiction, she was gray matter, she was everything and nothing all at once. She gave another sunny smile and mused, "Back in the day, seven was once attributed with good luck. Now, people hear the word seven, and they flee as if it will bring about the devil, although, I do suppose it isn't too much of a stretch to say that I'm a demon.

"I'm Em-- Emerson, but you probably want to save your breath. You already knew that, but just to make it official..." She jumped off the table and offered her hand. It was an old-fashioned way of greeting, unecessary, some would say, but Em still followed through with formalities. Handshakes gave room for people to grasp each others palms in a contract of equality, of mutual respect. It gave her a chance to look straight into the eyes of the other person, to observe, to be remind herself she was no longer a forgotten face in society.

"Truth be told, neither sound too endearing to me," Elysia replied with a slight laugh. "Self-worth, dignity, who even cares anymore?" Her fingers were combing through her dark hair, pulling out bobby pins and lining them up in front of her toes like little soldiers ready for battle. Against whom, Elysia wasn't sure yet. They sat quiet, waiting for the next black pin to line up beside the growing line. By the time all of her curling locks were hanging loose from the previous half-up position, Elysia had thirteen pins lined up.

An unlucky number. Like seven - or god forbid, eight - was now seen. Elysia had no problem with the lower classes; she knew her father's story. Looking up from her army of bobby pins, Elysia replied, "I thought it was pentagrams that imbued the devil. Guess neither of us are unfamiliar with demons." A subtle tip of her hat to Emerson and the challenges Elysia could read in the other girl's face, in her laughter, in her caste.

Elysia hadn't expected for Emerson to be a girl without depth. Sevens were not the type of people who had trivial thoughts clouding their minds and their judgement. The knew life and hardship and pain and all those things that the upper castes were too entitled to know. This was the type of person Elysia had been taught to fight for by Suki, by her father.

"I did, but just so you don't feel too awkward - I'm Elysia," she responded, grasping Em's hand with her own with a smile. Em would make a good ally, and this moment of solidarity only confirmed the strength in Emerson. Beneath her fingers, Elysia could feel the calluses of someone who knew how to shoot a gun and wield a knife. Elysia's own calluses? If questions were asked, she had plenty of stories tucked up her sleeve.

Melisquish wrote: "((Okay, where do you want to go?))"

((Umm..you can pick..))

(( *whispers* What's going on here? ))

((:p
XD erm. How about somewhere? And I was bringing Rina, right?))

Em gave a good-natured laugh before saying in a light tone, "Everyone here, it seems." It was true. Everyone was here to prove something. Everyone was here to get something. Including Em. She just wasn't sure what it was. What did she want to prove? Hadn't she proven herself already, with the fact that she had survived those fourteen years, not only survived but kept her father alive? The fact she pulled the trigger without flinching, didn't that prove her steel? Or did it prove her coldness, her selfishness? And the fact she forged papers and became a Seven, putting all that behind her, not succumbing to insanity like her father, didn't that prove something? The fact she had not only come out of killing her love, but also the fact that she had managed to forget some, if not most of the pain? It lurked in her subconsciousness, not doubt, so much as trauma. The pain. The broken pieces which tried to pretend they were whole, as if there was no whole in her heart.

But you couldn't even see it her eyes, her eyes which laughed, laughed away the pain as well as the joy. "Maybe we should start a demon-hunting club," Em joked, a twinkle in her eyes. "Surely we're not the only ones, and I'm afraid that there are probably one too many devils lurking in this damned palace." Casual, joking, Em laughed again.

"Emerson, Elysia, it seems we both have names with one too many syllables. Y'got a nickname?" She asked, noting the calluses, the hardened palms bulging with fluid muscles which had been worked, and worked hard. "Pleased to meet y'soldier," Em said, the Northern lilt of her father's voice seeping into her own voice. Soldier, his pet name for her. A warrior, a fighter, for the both of them. It was hard to tell whether the girl was being serious or not, whether she saw through the facade. Her eyes pierced through Elysia's, but she remarked lightly, "you didn't tell me you played violin, or is it cello?"

It was unclear if this, too, was a lie, a remark which revealed how much Em knew, or if it was a genuine comment. Underneath the straightforward simple words, there was a sea of ambiguity, of esoteric expressions that could not be figured out. Em was still wary, but Elysia not only knew more than the others, but she also had experience, whatever that meant nowadays. Perhaps, perhaps they could become more than strangers in a strange land.

Rose walked into the Great Room after a long day. It was a great day, but it felt really long. She had met some really kind and nice girls, some that were really, well, determined, some that just were here for the luxury, and some here for the prince. Rose looked around. There weren't many people, and it looked large, fancy, and even a bit intimidating. She wasn't used to the luxury, unlike some girls, and she sometimes even felt that it was a bit scary. Rose still loved it.

"Right this way, Miss Rose." Perry said, leading her to the chairs. "So, how are you? Have you visit our library yet? Do you like the collections?"

"Oh!" Rose exclaimed, a bit surprised, "I have visited the library, it is quite lovely. It has many wonderful books too."

((Umm he was the one who asked her to come to the Great Room...))

((Oh gosh, I edited that!))

(( Hey Mel? Where do you want me to post my finished girl? ))

((Umm could you just post her in WIP for right now, I'll check her, then I'll try and get on my laptop to open the selected thread, delete my post, delete Kitty, delete Kitty from the list, give Kitty's maid to someone else, delete Kitty's room, add your girl to the list, add your girl's room, and then close the thread again))

(( D: That's a lot of work!!! I'M SO SORRY!))

((xD it's cool. I just hope I can get on my laptop :/
My sis is getting mad at me XD))

"I know right?" he grinned. "Well, it's not really my favourite place, but it's a good hiding spot. Anyway, Rose Blythe--seriously, you are the most spotless ginger I ever met-, what brought you to The Selection?" he asked.

(( Hahaha Alright XD Thank you so much! Sorry for being a hassle ))

"The library? A hiding spot? A spotless ginger? You know best, your highness," Rose replied with a laugh, then hoped not to sound stupid, "Well, I came here because of you truly. I don't want to affect any of your relationships with any girls here, so I'm not going to say names, but some of these girls just came here for the fame. You can tell. It's sad."

((What does he mean by spotless ginger, hmmmm?))

((I don't know... That's a scary thought...))

(( 1x1s are going on with the Prince right?? ))

((What's wrong with that? He was reffering to 'girl, how come you have zero freckle?' XD))

"Really? I did not see that coming." he said, pretending to be shocked. "But some girls are even more famous than me, I'm not exactly the central of the universe--or am I?-" Perry smirked teasingly. "Well, Miss Rose, I hope you find what are you looking for while in here."

((Oh! Lol!))

Rose looked at him with doubt at his fake shock, "Oh, some girls think they're more famous than you, but you still have more power. And a better heart from what I know. I'm sure I will find exactly what I'm looking for here," She said, starting to smile. "I actually already found what I was looking for."

"Really?" he smirked, and leaned closer to her. "What is that?" he asked quietly. But before she could answer, Perry continued, "Don't answer. That's a spoiler." he said. "There's a right time for everything, yes? Anyway, I was wondering... Just between you and me, is there any girl I should be careful of?"

((Oh XDXD Wait I can't even remember if Claudia has freckles...))

Rose's face turned grim, "Aphrodite. That bit- I mean girl is the worst girl you'll ever meet. Around the royalty, she'll act graceful, kind, and nice, then around the selected, she'll torment you. Some of the things she's done to people are just plain cruel. Please keep this a secret, if she finds out, she'll kill me. Literally."

"Oh, that media sweetie? Why? She's like a nice kitten who's cacthing the rainbow everyday." he said jokingly. "But, thank you for your warning. I'll keep that in mind. And don't worry, your secret is safe with me." he got up and lend his hand, "Shall I escort you back, Miss Rose?"

Rose's sullen look brightened up, "That would be lovely," she said in a jokingly fancy tone.

((back to the dining hall, yay!))

((Okay! Yay!))

Perry opened the door and let the girl entered first. Then he escorted her to the chair. "Hello, Miss Rhiannon. How do you feel today?"

(( I'm gonna disappear soon, so don't freak on me if I don't reply xD ))

Rhiannon was taken a bit aback. Most people would normally ask how she was doing, not how she felt. It didn't really make a difference, she would later suppose. But she said the first thing that came to mind anyways, and it certainly wasn't the most expectant thing either. "I suppose that depends. I'm not feeling bad, but am doing well."

Perry nodded, "Hey, remind me if I'm wrong, but you're sitting next to Miss Aria, yes? The one with jeans? You two don't look... happy with that. Like if it's a cartoon, I would've seen lightning bolt from both your eyes--you and her-when you two stare at each other."

((It won't take long, thou. XD))