the darkest part of the woods; advanced roleplay discussion
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Mod
((This is short, but my next one should be longer, sorry about that.))
August Found himself settled in a corner of his library at a small wooden desk situated in a corner of the vast room. Though tall, the Prince was not of an impressive physique, he seemed small and insignificant when sat amongst the high reaching shelves. He was dressed in simple clothes, tan coloured trousers, a white buttoned shirt and a warm brown sweater over top. He was surrounded by stacks upon stacks of old books on innumerable different subjects. Splayed out before the Prince, were three open books and a stack of papers. His hand-gilded across the sheet scrawling out all sorts of notes in tidy elegant handwriting.
August was so deeply engrossed in his readings and notes that he was oblivious to the grey skies and orange leaves outside a nearby window. His dark eyes flickered between paper and book calmly as he worked his way through the information presented, writing down the core points. Even he found the work to be excruciatingly dull, but he if he was to rule then it seemed only fair that he be more educated than his subjects. In other words, this was his self-assigned duty.
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An autumn breeze ruffled the golden hair of the Spring Prince. A smirk was gracing his thin lips as he made his way to the library. He paused turning his gaze to look out of a window at the colorful trees below. He had never liked Autumn it represented everything Spring didn't. The browning of the leaves, the chill in the air, the harvest. So foreign to his own court, so different. He turned away shaking his head. He hadn't come here to complain about the weather. No, something had been eating at him. The whispers of a new Queen were growing, and try as he might Connall couldn't silence them. The humans and fae alike were telling tales of what a new queen might do. He feared what she might do. Everyone knew of the Princes treachery, this new queen would be sure not to let it happen again. That is if she wasn't stopped before she could do anything.
Finally he made it to the library door, the smirk on his face faded slightly. He stood there for a moment debating whether or not meeting with August was actually such a good idea. Out of all the princes Connall found August one of the most unsettling. His lack of voice always put Connall on edge. He closed his golden eyes for a moment clearing his head. He took a step forward opening his eyes as he pushed the door open.
Connall threw on his most charming smile as he stepped through the door. His eyes darting around the vast library searching for August. His smile grew slightly as his gaze landed on August. He took another couple steps into the library before he raised a hand greeting the Autumn Prince. "You're always locked up with these books aren't you?" He said a small laugh escaping his lips. Not a kind laugh, more mocking than kind.
((I try to keep it around three when possible, but I suppose I just felt that my post was lacking content, your post is actually right around where I like to have mine be.))
August paused as he heard the sound of the doors opening. He didn't move, nor did he deign to look to see who was entering the library. The Prince had forbidden others from interrupting him so whoever had entered was surely a bold individual. His keen ears listened to the footsteps as they crossed the threshold of the room. It wasn't long after until he could feel the Wolfish golden eyes of the Spring Prince on him. His presence was decidedly different than most any other Fae, August needed only a moment to pick up on it. He shifted to face Connall, his expression stoic and cold.
Why the other Prince would come was a mystery, but certainly not a welcome one. He was unsettled by Connall's presence but August wouldn't let it show. When Connall spoke August let a sigh escape his lips, rising from his seat and casting a sidelong furtive glance down one of the aisles and its shelves upon shelves of books. He shook his head faintly before letting his dark brown eyes fall on Connall. His eyes narrowed as they scanned the other fae. He had known Connall for longer than most fae had even been alive for, but he still wouldn't trust him without being sure he wasn't there to pull the wool over his eyes.
He crossed his arms and raised a brow questioningly, choosing not to acknowledge Connall's previous comment any further. What he wanted to know now was why Connall was visiting, he kept his gaze on him sternly with an inquisitive glimmer behind his eyes. Though he tapped his foot, he made no effort to step any closer. August didn't like to waste time and clearly wanted Connall to skip to the point.
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"Have you heard any interesting rumors lately?" He asked the icy smile reappearing. He knew full well the prince couldn't answer the question, so he continued on the smile fading as he went on. "I have." He paused again watching August, would the prince now of what Connall spoke off? "The spring lands are buzzing with rumors, and one seems to have crawled it's way into the ears of anyone and everyone." His smile had completely disappeared, replaced with a small sneer. "A rumor like this needs to be stamped out completely."
He turned away from the prince as he talked, to gaze at a nearby bookshelf. He traced the spine of a worn book with a finger, reading the nearly faded title. He was silent for a moment, not sure how to finish what he was going to say next. His gaze flickered around the book shelf, only half looking at the books that filled it. "It's time for us to discuss the Queen."
Connall's words were met by silence with each addition he made. August stood steadfast as the other Prince spoke of rumours and gossip. August didn't concern himself with the petty intrigues of the Spring Court, their gossip meant nothing to someone who had no intent on involving himself in their politics. Nevertheless, he doubted that Connal would have shown up were it not a pressing matter regarding them both. He listened carefully, his dark eyes locked onto Connall scrutinisingly as he picked out the key parts of everything he said. Though Connall's tone shifted and his expression changed, August's features were unmoving, his body as stiff as when Connall first entered.
To August, Connall's musings and linguistic flourishes were nothing more than setbacks that kept them from getting to whatever it was they needed to talk about. It wasn't until the last words left Connall's lips that August's limbs went laxer and the tension released. He clenched his jaw, and his brow furrowed as he looked around the room as if to check that there were no eavesdroppers. He knew that Connall wasn't visiting in order to undermine him seeing as this threat was one they had in common.
The room seemed to grow heavy with the threat of a new Queen hanging over their heads, August's severe expression made clear his discontent. He looked Connall over appraisingly one last time before turning away, gesturing for him to wait a moment. He hastily swiped a sheet of paper from his desk, set them atop a book and held them in his arms. Using the book as a surface, his hand moved across the page writing out his response. He then took the page and held it out for Connall.
In August's elegant handwriting it read as follows: "There is no Queen, there is only a pretender to the throne, a radical usurper who seeks to disrupt the order of our regencies. She must be crushed.". A bold declaration, but one August felt was necessary to make. To call her a Queen was to acknowledge her right to rule and August would not allow a mistake in etymology to be his downfall. She was an overconfident nobody who needed to be silenced.
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He took the paper that contained August's written answer, his brow furrowing as he read what the Prince had penned. He read it twice making sure had hadn't missed any small detail August written on the page. It was exactly what Connall had hoped for. One that brought a smile to his lips, a smile that promised violence and chaos. The Autumn Prince understood the threat the false heir brought to them and their courts.
"So." He said dragging the word out, his gaze rose from the page to rest on August. "What will you do?" Connall already knew what he would do, hunt the new fae upstart down. Though he didn't quite know what August planned on doing. He needed to know what the other Princes planned on doing, he needed to keep them out of his way.
((Sorry I wasn't able to get to this sooner! I've been sick for about a month and have been very tired the past while, but I'm back! Sorry if it's a little rough, this is the first thing I've written in a week.))
August knew how to handle the problem, he would do with it what he did with every problem. He'd make it disappear. He would find the root, the wannabe regent and let the rot set in. Her disappearance would be the beginning. The rot would spread to every branch, stem and leaf, anyone who followed her was to be silenced. He had already had three people mysteriously vanish for spreading the word of a new queen and so long as she remained at large he would nip every rumour in the bud. Only those loyal to him would reap the benefits of his benevolence, any who opposed him would be made privy to the extent of his wrath.
August, of course, couldn't say all this, nor did he care to. His gaze simply hardened in response. August refused to let himself await her rise in fear, he had a job to do, he had to topple the pretender and so he channelled his fear into resolve as best he could. This was clear through the resolute expression on his face. He inhaled and turned to the side for a moment. As he exhaled, a resonant boom rumbled through the air.
As he was part of his kingdom it very well may have been apart of him. It responded to his contained feelings, and though he composed himself, remaining silent and unmoving, the skies spoke for him. The grey sky was alight as lightning arced through the clouds and the vibrations could be felt from the thunder's rapturous call. As the skies now bore down upon the lands, he would bear down upon this radical usurper with the fury of a storm until nothing was left. He turned back to face Connall as the noise faded and though he seemed no different than before his intention was clear. There would be hell to pay for anyone who wanted to take his power.
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Connall golden eyes darted to the window as lighting raced across the skies, thunder booming in the distance. A cold smile split his face, good that was what they needed to purge this usurper and her followers from there very memory of the land. No one would remember her name, it would disappear with her and her foolish worshipers. The girl would fear the princes before the end, she would understand the wrath of princes. For now he would put aside his distrust of his fellow princes, only for now. As soon this false queen was slain he would happily go back to keeping the other courts at an arm's length. It had been centuries since he'd left his court and coming to talk to August had been a surprise to all in his court. This particular problem required his full attention.
"So glad you agree." He purred, his gaze still fixed on the lighting that lit the sky with a white light. "The faster we kill the little upstart the sooner we can get out of each others hair." He wanted as little to do with his fellow princes as possible, they were as much a pain in his ass as he was in theirs. He absent mindedly ran a hand through his blonde hair, disheveling the formerly perfectly combed hair. "And I think we can both agree that you don't want me here anymore than I want to be." He shrugged, straightening the sleeves of his blue and gold jacket. "At least I think you don't want here." He said shooting a wink at the Autumn prince as he turned back towards the door.
He didn't look back as he made his way to the door, the same smile he'd worn as he'd entered the dusty hall appearing on his lips. He looked back towards August, he bowed almost mockingly before pulling the door open and stepping through. "I'll see you soon August." he yelled back through the door, as he made his way down the first steps the lead out of the tower. The longer he stayed here the longer he was away from spring, something that he didn't consider wise.
((This was longer than expected, my apologies if there are any glaring mistakes, my brain just sort of poured out words and this was the result.))
August's fair skin seemed pallid in the faint white light that seeped in from the windows with each bolt. Combined with his decidedly gaunt features, the Faerie Prince seemed almost corpse-like in such unforgiving light. Nevertheless, August stood tall and steadfast as he watched the icy grin creep its way onto Connall's face. If he knew Connall at all, which August would like to think he did, that smile meant that Connall had gotten what he wanted out of this meeting. August's only query was what exactly that was.
He appraised the look in Connall's golden eyes. August could only assume that it meant they were on the same page about what had to be done, however, even though he would liked to have trusted Connall, he disliked the possibility that perhaps Connall had other motives. He decided it was safest to work with him and keep his guard up. They had killed one Queen together, perhaps regicide was the one thing that could bring the four Princes to an armistice.
Somewhat mirroring Connall's action, August had brushed his ginger coloured hair from his face, though it did little to tame the ruffled mess it had become over the course of the day. As Connall spoke of how he was sure August wanted him to leave, the Autumn Prince glanced at the door. Once Connall left he'd be alone again in his tower which was how he had planned for his day to go. It was safer that way. Having Connall around could surely only lead to trouble and August didn't need any further issues.
His eyes returned to Connall who was already on his way out. August, naturally, remained entirely silent as he left. He exhaled somewhat indignantly as Connall dropped into a bow. He lowered his gaze, not wanting to meet Connall's eyes after that, but as he left, August felt like something was missing. As the door swung shut he let himself relax, looking quickly around the library. His eyes fluttered about from shelf to shelf until he spotted a dusty and old leather-bound book. He snapped it up off the shelf and, with a series of long yet eerily quiet strides, was out the door of the library. Once Connall was in sight he stopped.
August hit the wall with a resounding knock to grab Connall's attention. A few steps behind Connall he held out the book. In faded gold lettering the cover was emblazoned with the title, "The Fall of the Queen". It was the first copy of a book that detailed the death of the former Queen. It was August's parting gift, a reminder of what happened to fae who attempted to keep the power of the Princes to themselves. August's perpetually cold expression was lighter than before. The corners of his lips were imperceptibly turned upward, a sight very few ever got to see. One might even have taken his expression as a show of kindness although that would certainly be a stretch. Though he wouldn't consciously admit it, not even to himself, having someone on his side for once was oddly relieving, but he certainly wasn't going to be best buddies with Connall because they had a single agreement, though he thought it fair to be civil with him at least until the new Queen was dead.
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Connall's footfalls echoed down the empty stairwell as he made his down the first couple steps. He hated the amount of stairs in this place, everything he came there always seemed to be more. It felt like you were climbing these steps for centuries, with no end in sight. He frowned slightly as his way down. "Damn steps." He muttered under his breath. He stopped, as he heard the footfalls coming from behind. Maybe August had forgotten something of interest?
He smiled lazily when he heard August's fist knock against the wall. What did the prince of autumn want? He turned back to August, a single eyebrow raised above golden eyes. Something dark flickered behind his gaze when it landed on the book. It was a a thousand centuries worth of memories being shoved back. Connall preferred to forget about that time, the time of the Queen. When his power was yoked to another, someone unworthy of his loyalty and his power. He would bow to no one ever again, the queens chains had held him down for so long. He extended a pale hand, thin elegant fingers closing around the book's cover. His gaze remained on the cover for what felt to him to be an eternity. Though he maybe glanced at it for no more than a secound or two. The book was a reminder of a mistake he had made, a mistake they had all made. Never again would he allow such a mistake to take place.
He turned his unreadable eyes of gold back to the fae male that stood before him. He was quiet for a moment, wondering why August had given him the book, though he didn't have to wonder long. He nodded, understanding filling his gaze. "I hope the writer did me justice." He said not quiet smiling. With that he turned again tucking the book under his arm, grinning faintly to himself as he descended the stairs of the Tower of Autumn.
((That seems like a good spot to end it for now, what do you think?))
Mod
The crimson haired Prince approached the doors to the library with a comfortable sense of familiarity. His guards had taken pause several steps back, knowing better than to attempt to enter the ancient structure without August's expressed permission. He opened the large and heavy wooden door with a long drawn out creak despite it appearing quite heavy for someone of his delicate build.
The walk there had been a quiet and swift one. August found it more difficult to communicate clearly while walking and thus he made the choice to not do so at all. The Prince's dark eyes met the artist's and he gave her a nod permitting her entrance into his library.
The moment he stepped into the building, his change in body language was very apparent. His rigid stance grew more lax. Even his breaths were less laboured. It was clear that this was where belonged, it was where he was comfortable. He found his home amongst the countless shelves and dusty old books which were sprawled out as far as the eye could see. He walked with less measured steps, as he lead the way through a never-ending line of shelves that stood against the cold stone walls, listening intently to the footsteps of his acquaintance.
Acelin followed right behind the Prince, and followed rather easily, just matching his stride and following his rhythm. When they arrived Acelin quiet obviously couldn't help herself but gape at the towering structure of the library. It's elegance and beauty astounded her, but she quickly fixed herself and continued following. She stopped where the guard stopped until the Prince gave her permission, in which she continued to follow him in. ”Wow...” she murmured, the first words she had ever said in the company of the Prince. As the Prince slowed so too did she, however she found herself slowing to such an extant it could have been seen as rude. She couldn't help but glaze the beautiful spines of such interesting books, reading some titles and moving forward without even bothering to look. She didn't touch anything, afraid the old books would immediately crumple to dust, but just looking at them and being surrounded by their smell was enough to practically make her catatonic.
The library was August's home far more often than the Autumn Tower was. Though to him it was no great wonder, he understood that it was a collection of knowledge the likes of which most people had never before seen. A smile threatened to materialize on his face, spurred on by the pride he felt in his library. Although he was tempted to grin at her astonishment, he forced his face to remain expressionless, as cool and collected as it always was.
The Prince came to a sudden halt. His shoes struck the hard floors with a resounding harshness that broke the hollow silence that filled the aisles of the library. He turned to face the wall where there was a break in the lines of shelves, his book of blank pages still held tightly in his arms in case he needed to say something. His dark eyes flittered up the wall, his head tilting back enough to let his copper hair fall from his face. Three paintings filled the empty space, lined up vertically. One could see from there that there down the aisle there were several more of these breaks which no doubt had more paintings.
Questions about his library could come after their business was done. He looked at the paintings a moment without making any moves to acknowledge Acelin. Each one depicted the fields in their vibrant yellow colour, framed by dark wood with a small golden plaque on the the frames' bottoms indicating the three paintings were of the three most recent harvests. Each pairing varied ever so slightly from the last, one being more vibrant, another having taller stalks and the third showing how they swayed in the wind despite being a still image.
He turned his head to Acelin. With his hair still off of his pale face he looked almost ghostly in the library's lighting. He gestured for her to come over with a steeliness in his eyes that implied it wasn't so much a suggestion as it was a command. He wasn't quite sure what she was looking for in the paintings, after all, the Prince was no artist. Nevertheless, he studied them hoping to see what it was she saw when she looked at a painting. Perhaps he too could learn something if he could just figure out an artist's perspective. It was clear that there was something he was trying to discern as he looked at them, but his signature silence made it impossible to know exactly what that was.
Acelin eventually came to her senses when she was jolted by the loud noise, and saw the Prince waiting for her. Blushing profusely in embarrassment she quickly caught up and bowed slightly. ”My apologies your majesty, the wonders in your castle never cease to amaze me, and I cannot help but be enchanted.” She explained, hoping to turn the focus from herself to the magnificence of the Prince’s wealth and taste. When he motioned for her to follow she dutifully obeyed, hoping he would quickly forget her mistake.As he brought her over to the paintings, she started to study them carefully. She could see the different techniques. One had cooler colors for a cooler temperature, one was rather warm and sunnier than the rest, some had sparse stalks and others were abundant. She hoped she might capture these aspects of the field in her own painting. ”You’ve had impeccable taste in artists for the previous paintings your majesty, I hope to do your proud and continue the legacy just as well as the painters before me.” she whispered, aware they were in the library.
((Sorry about the late response, I've been in a cutthroat holiday decorating competition with my family which has taken up nearly my every last waking moment... If it's a bit confusing just tell me and I'll tidy it up, I haven't written too much in a while.))
A smile threatened to cross his face. Her promise of dedication to her work was an honourable sentiment, one the Prince shared. There was little in the world that he valued as much as hard work, hence he often sequestered himself in his library, studying without interruption. August nodded in approval, not giving much away regarding his opinion on her proclamation.
His eyes drifted down the aisle and he slowly turned, allowing Acelin a moment to notice what he was doing. He started to walk farther down the aisle, gesturing to another couple paintings. He had many paintings all of the same scene, but these two seemed no different than the others at a glance. Nice, but vaguely repetitive. Both were signed in the bottom corner by an artist by the name of Luisa Mora and they were, thus far, the Prince's favourite of the paintings. Though simple upon first looking at them, a closer examination would reveal the details put into the painting to be exquisite. Nothing was missed down to the delicate veins of the leaves of nearby trees and the glare of the light on each kernel. There was no doubt that the painter had used unique tools to create such a uniquely accurate piece.
Though he still withheld a true smile, the corners of August's eyes crinkled. It was as beautiful as the rest, but to also perfectly served the true purpose of the paintings; to be a record. He could look at it and see everything he needed to know. He was curious to see if Acelin would notice the minute details or if maybe she had even heard of this Luisa Mora who had painted them a decade or so ago, thus his pleased gaze turned onto his companion, awaiting her response to the piece.
Acelin examined what the Prince gestured to. Her first instinct was to look at the painting, but she instead looked at the artist. ”Luisa Mora...” she muttered, and began examining the painting. ”This is absolutely stunning, if I were to do a study of it and do a similar planting it would probably take me six months to a year, how long did it take her? There's so may details...” she mused, looking at everything. It seemed as if every blade of grass and every wheat head had a shadow, and in the correct place. Every leaf was vibrating with life, and she could almost see the picture moving if she squinted slightly. She wanted to step into the painting and see everything, she wanted to put everything under a microscope, but she could only get so close without looking weird and rude. ”Youve clearly had impeccable taste in artists in the past, I only hope I can live up to such a legacy my Prince.” she remarked sincerely.
