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Post by Freya Forsdottir on Feb 22, 2014 6:20:15 GMT
The starlit decks of the Drakonborg bustled with the conglomerated energy of the Drakonrhedi. Tiros and Pyrfektus alike constricted themselves in an array of dispersed crowds, the conversations creating an atmosphere of tamed bliss. Makeshift decorations strung themselves between the two masts, small lights lolling from a row of delicate threads. The angelic sound of a string quartet intertwined amongst the discord of discussion. Food, of course, was positioned throughout the entire platform; Numerous eccentric entrées resided on the tables that littered the deck, alongside a particular arrangement of alcoholic beverages that the servants distributed accordingly.
The entire happening was the result of a few week's work. The influence of the Vetrs was enough to put the party in motion, having acquired the necessary reagents with but a flick of the wrist. Even the chefs paid their dues - it took some convincing, but they prepared a multitude of adequate assortments for their enjoyment.
The Drakonrhedi, at this time, were well aware of the Council's collective scheme. The preparations for the occasion were obvious enough, given that the Vetrs couldn't assemble the gathering without notice. Freya, however, had made a valiant effort to keep them informed. She placed a number of signs throughout the Drakonborg, hurling reminders at every angle as though her life depended on it. She even went the distance to give a curt speech on the matter.
Now it was different. The event was actually happening - the excitement she endured, all leading up to this very moment! The overall attire was unspecified, although she was admittedly impressed with the outcome. Many arrived in their casual venture, whereas some withdrew the classier garments tucked away in the depths of their drawer. She, of course, had arrived in a somewhat simple dress, maintaining an off-white tint with flecks of gold draping the rim.
Freya retrieved a silver utensil from the table. She gently tapped it against her half-emptied glass of champagne, the shrill noise sweeping over the boisterous crowd. The conversations came to a close at that time; within a few minutes, the scene had dwindled into silence. The music had ceased playing, the spotlight shifting onto the petite woman.
She glanced around, quite content with the Drakonhrhedi's attention.
"Good evening! It's a pleasure to see you all here tonight." She casually set down the silverware before proceeding. "As you are aware, this party is a recognition of the hard work and dedication that each of you have contributed to the Drakonrhedi. We cannot thank you enough for your valiant efforts, whether you be a veteran to the cause or just beginning your feat. So please, do enjoy yourselves tonight! You've earned it."
She left with that note, allowing the conversation to reignite as she stepped away to seek out her fellow Vetrs.
Tags: EVERYONE Inspiration: Notes: WOO PARTY as the quality of my post deteriorates into nothing Table made by Kyvestra.
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Post by Talithe Anyadottir on Feb 23, 2014 19:36:58 GMT
Talithe sat at her table at the base of the helm, looking out onto the deck. For such short notice, the party had been put together very well.
I didn't even know we had a string quartet, and I'm supposed to know about this type of thing!
Ah, well.
She had chosen for this occasion a long black dress with orange and red accents, inspired by the monarch butterfly.
Beautiful, graceful. Poisonous. She smiled, looking out over the crowd. Freya had somehow dug up champagne, to boot, and Talithe sipped from her glass.
She had set up this table specifically with the Vetr in mind, so that they could keep an eye on the entire deck. She had neatly set places for each of the council, complete with handwritten namecards. She had not seen Cedric yet, but hoped he was there. For his sake.
Of course, the entire party was a set-up, but she wouldn't tell anyone except Freya, and Freya already knew. The whole idea was to get to see Cedric with his crush, who, hopefully, assuming Cedric wasn't being particularly shifty, would likely be his guest at this party.
She spied Freya across the room, who proceeded to draw everyone's attention and spoke:
"As you are aware, this party is a recognition of the hard work and dedication that each of you have contributed to the Drakonrhedi. We cannot thank you enough for your valiant efforts, whether you be a veteran to the cause or just beginning your feat. So please, do enjoy yourselves tonight! You've earned it."))
She cheered and applauded with the rest of the Drakonrhedi, then returned her attention to the rest of the room.
Many Tiros and Iduneus lurked at the edge of the deck, out of the lights. Perhaps they were shy? She would be sure to get them involved somehow.
But how?
She motioned to the chefs, "Make sure everyone knows that they can start eating now."
That will at least get the hungry Tiros moving.
--- watch as I cannot wurdz
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Calder Raoul
Pryfektus
"Calder is like microwaveable sex in a bowl." - "So he'd be better in an oven, but you can't?"
Posts: 20
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Post by Calder Raoul on Feb 24, 2014 1:10:01 GMT
Calder had heard of the festivities from many different sources; The Pryfektus dorms had been decked out in colorful news posters, the tiros whispered of the fun that was to come, the men roared on about the alcohol and women that would join them at the party, and, perhaps the only tolerable part, he had heard from the hostess herself. Freya had spoken to him briefly in an excited tone before dashing off to spread the word about the fabulous part she was holding.
He still wouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t have to.
And since he did have to show…. Might as well look good right?
Judging by the looks he was getting from some of the women - and yes, even some of the men - he had accomplished his goal quite well. Abandoning his usual leather clothes, Calder had opted for his more formal military bleus that fit him quite nicely. The jacket fit across his broad chest tightly, silver buttons lining the right side from top to bottom, and the tails on the jacket reaching to his mid-thigh. His black linen pants were pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle daring to show. The chain of a silver pocket watch was visible, and his only accessory. His beloved combat boots had not been ditched for this endeavor, and were laced up tight underneath his pants. His hair had been allowed to hang loose, and now framed his face, dropping to just below his shoulder. He was due for a trim. And a shave, as his ever present five-o’-clock shadow had not failed to make it’s presence on his face.
Sadly, someone at the door had taken his katanas.
Now Calder meandered slowly through the crowds of people, stopping to speak with few colleagues briefly, though mostly just keeping to himself. He wasn’t particularly fond of anyone in specific, and he had no need nor want for a promotion, therefore he had no need to, as social people would say, ‘chat someone up’.
The thought of it made Calder grimace.
| "There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there will be no one to remember human beings ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was a time before organisms experienced consciousness and there will be a time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows thats what everyone else does." | | |
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Post by Cedric Vyrrson on Feb 24, 2014 1:48:05 GMT
It was a rarely realized fact that Vetr Cedric Vyrrson despised people.
Indeed, his entire profession was centered around saving the lives of and serving the populace. However, this did not mean that he enjoyed people--he'd simply allocated himself around the group of humans that he found least irritating and excelled to the point where he could tell them what to do and do what he wanted without being questioned.
However, this did not mean he enjoyed parties with them.
Cedric was only good with large groups of people when he was avoiding them or darting through crowds as a different person entirely. Social gatherings fit neither of those two gatherings, especially because he had a feeling he would be slain by both Freya and Talithe if he didn't make some sort of appearance during the party.
So he'd showed up, but he wasn't exactly in the middle of the floor. He was currently leaning against the banister of one of the raised platforms overlooking the main deck, where the party was taking place.
In true Cedric fashion, he'd dressed up in a mix between the fashions of the 1800s and the formality of Shakespeare. His hair, for once, was tamed and neatly parted. He had on a black high-collared cape slung dramatically over one shoulder on a silver chain with a black overcoat with a silver vest and white silk Shakespearean-ruffled cravat beneath. His shirt beneath it all was of a similar white silk, with ruffles on the sleeves matching it, hearkening back to Shakespeare once more. A cerulean bejeweled pin adorned the cravat. His boots--he'd refused to wear dress shoes, and had instead simply gotten out very fine leather boots--and pants were black. On his head was a black tophat with a blue ribbon around its circumference. His glasses had been polished, and he wore a pair of soft black leather gloves. A silver pocketwatch was pinned across the vest. His pockets held a deck of cards, two smokescreens, and a box of matches. As a Vetr, he simply had to glare at the doormen, and they'd backed down immediately. One hand held a spyglass of the same metal, and the other a walking cane made of black metal and with a blue stone set in its head. The cane doubled as a hidden sword: Cedric needed at least one weapon on him, otherwise he became terribly antsy. Besides, it'd be extremely effective on anyone who doubted his superb fashion sense.
Freya stood and gave a speech. Cedric paid it little to no heed, the words drifting past his ears--she'd already given him the rundown on what she was saying several times, and had nearly practiced it on him.
He raised the spyglass, lazily scoping out Talithe. Both of the party's hosts had not spared anything for the party itself, let alone their dresses. Freya preferred simple, of course, but she was still devastating. If only Cedric were affected, he'd been around her too long. Talithe, similarly, had made a good choice, recalling the monarch butterfly, a bug he knew to be poisonous. Knowing the Vetr, that was probably on purpose. She was sitting at a table smack in the middle of...
"Crap," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Does that placard have my name on it?"
He sighed. Her lips were pursed, and she seemed very pleased with herself. He would be deader than a detonated, defenestrated doorknob if he didn't at least show up and say hello.
Of course, if he showed his face, he'd immediately be yanked into the world of being social, which would be extraordinarily displeasing to his disposition, to say the least. There would be very little good that could come of it.
Maybe he'd just say hello, then seek out Ade and camp out in a dark corner with her. After losing any pursuers, of course. Couldn't be giving Talithe and Freya the tip-off this early into the game. He didn't even know if he really liked the blue-haired Iduneus anyway.
The Vetr sighed. If only she could see my attire.
Dammit, Ced, what does it matter if she likes you or not! Don't feel the need to impress her, you idiot.
He sighed once more.
"I'd best be going to the party," he murmured to himself. He could justify speaking to himself in this outfit: he felt as important as a main character. Monologues and asides were all going to be incoming, as pretending and acting were the only ways he could get through a night with so many damn people. Quietly, he tucked away the spyglass into one of the many pockets of his outfit.
In a swish of cape and overcoat, he had disappeared from the balcony, and was making his appearance on the floor. The cloak fluttered behind him in the wind, making Iduneus and Tiros pause to watch his passage.
If you're going to enter, make it grand, he commented to himself. So long as your cape doesn't fly up into the food.
That put a smirk on his face, completing the look with a snappy adjustment of his top hat.
He swept through the crowd, not caring to notice if he was turning heads. Truth be told, he probably was. It was hard to not notice the top hat.
Arriving at Talithe's table, he slipped up to his assigned chair and pulled it out, sitting down so that the cloak still swept off to one side in a manner far too dramatic.
Ced gave his fellow Vetr a friendly smile that was only half forced. "Evening," he greeted her, propping the cane against the table. He wasn't sure what to do with the hat. Looked like it'd be staying on.
"Thanks for sticking me at a table in the middle of everyone I don't want to be around. I'll probably vanish after dinner."
He didn't say where or with who, but he'd got that all sorted out mentally. Besides, why would Talithe need to know?
| Tags: EVERYONE, but especially Ade Alvadottir and Talithe Anyadottir. (and Calder Raoul for "you have good style" moments 'cause i promise i had that entire thing typed up before she posted) Inspiration: Outfit based roughly off this. Notes: ADE SHOULD JUST WALK UP TO THE TABLE LIKE YO AND AWKWARDNESS CAN COMMENCE i shoulda given him double monocles 'cause double monocles means TWICE THE CLASSY |
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Post by Ade Alvadottir on Feb 24, 2014 4:57:53 GMT
Ade shifted through the garrulous swarm of people, the innumerable auras fusing together in a discomforting heap of happiness. She nearly plowed over a number of different bodies, barely muttering a hushed apology with ever misstep she took. She wasn't an avid fan of parties. Large crowds were less desirable for an aura reader such as herself, considering the rampant emotions curtailed her view of any designated direction that she decided to go. Still, she wasn't accumulating too much attention. She, unlike some people, wasn't classified as a "head-turner" of any sort. Sure, her attire was slightly more formal than what she was accustomed to, but the surrounding Drakonrhedi was no better. It was rather peculiar that the blindfolded bandit had any sort of aforementioned attire in her closet; she had never been especially posh, considering she couldn't even view the clothing she burdened herself with. No, she obtained this number years ago in Midgardborg. It was blue, of course. She was merely walking past a clothing stand, the merchant thrusting its merchandise at nearly every passerby. She wouldn't have cared much, although her attention became piqued after he singled her out and said that the dress supposedly "matched her hair". And - amongst the bustling activity and the constant exchange of goods - it really wasn't that difficult to steal. Up until this point, Ade had nearly forgotten about the dress. The mention of the party basically snapped her memory back into place. Even with the matching dress, however, she wasn't a marvel to gawk at. Her red blindfold completely ruptured the illusion. While she had considered removing it for the occasion, she decided that it would be best to leave the onlookers in an uncomfortable state of mind. She perked up at the sound of clapping, halfheartedly joining in on the fad. She wasn't sure what exactly triggered the applause; probably some daft speech that a Vetr had given. Maybe a Pyrfektus. Ah, it didn't matter. All she wanted to do was get to somewhere less crowded. And possibly swipe a few snacks. The Iduneus moved forward at an above average pace, dispersing with the rest of the crowd as the applause tapered to an end. She stalked forward with some form of hurriedness, directing herself to nowhere in particular. What did she want again? Ah, yes! Food! Food and a secluded area away from the havoc. She continued forward with a newfound purpose. She nearly walked past the center table, too, if it weren't for the mildly distracting top hat. She originally glanced at it to leech off a small amount of amusement until, of course, she recognized the figure beneath it. Oh shit, what are you doing? Don't just stop by the table! Do you know how weird you probably look right now? Fuck, look, there are his dumb Vetr friends! I bet they're all really confused right now. Well... do something! Don't just stand here!She inwardly fought with herself for approximately one whole second, having recently parked beside the table. "Eh... Hey," She began. "Do you know where the food is?"
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Post by Thorulf Donalbain on Feb 25, 2014 0:06:39 GMT
"Sir? Sir?"
Thorulf stopped, mid-collar-adjustment, to turn and face his open door, where a Tiro was poking his head through. "Yes?" he asked. He hadn't meant it to sound so impatient, but he didn't like it when his presentation-'making-perfect'-process was interrupted. The Tiro gave him a sideways look.
"Aren't you coming to the party?"
Parties. Thorulf had to restrain a small, indignant sniff. Why the Drakonrhedi needed to hold parties was lost on him. Social gatherings sure, but...parties? This was a serious organisation, not five-year old in paper hats playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. He half expected to go up there and find the drakes having their faces painted. Regardless, he gave the Tiro a brief not-to-worry smile. "I'll be up in a minute. Enjoy yourself." The Tiro returned a big grin, and left him to properly correct his attire.
Thorulf supposed it wasn't such a surprise. As the years progressed, the ranks of the Drakonrhedi were getting younger and younger - and kids were still kids after all. Perhaps Thorulf's cynicism was all down to his age. He was all for a quiet gathering of responsible, mature adults sipping wine and making idle conversation. But the age group of his peers brought on a slight anxiety to the Pryfektus - could he actually keep up with the youth of today?
As he watched himself straighten his ruffled collar, he gave himself a small, smug smirk - Of course you can, Thorulf.
He was wearing the best attire he had; a deep navy waistcoat adorning a pristine, white shirt that puffed slightly at the sleeves before ending neatly at the cuffs. His collar - as previously mentioned - was ruffled like a fluffed napkin and his trousers were trim and fitted, rich in colour to match his waistcoat. His hair was neatly styled; mostly pushed back off his face but nicely fluffed at the back of his head.
Once he was certain that he looked as presentable as he could, he gave his reflection a quick nod of encouragement and left his quarters at a slow but purposeful pace. He reached the deck just as Freya, a Vetr, finished her address.
"-We cannot thank you enough for your valiant efforts, whether you be a veteran to the cause or just beginning your feat. So please, do enjoy yourselves tonight! You've earned it."
It was a nice sentiment, but one Thorulf couldn't understand; why such a celebration now? Had the organisation really done so badly in the past? Had his own performance not deserved praise in the past? Thorulf certainly wasn't one to wallow in self-pity, but it was a slight disgruntled thought that bobbed in his subconscious. Nevertheless, people seemed to be enjoying themselves, so Thorulf resolved himself not to adopt the 'grumpy old man' attitude. There was life left in him yet.
He recognised a number of faces. Calder for one, but Thorulf was certainly not in the mood. Still, the other Pryfektus looked like he could trump Thorulf in dashing looks. Let him, he thought, Thorulf wasn't here to impress anyone.
He kept a fair distance from the table adorned with various nibbles and treats and crossed briskly over to the far end of the deck, leaned against the railing and stared out into the abyss. It was a nice evening for a such a shindig, and even Thorulf had to admit that the deck looked rather marvellous in it's decorations.
He made a mental note to keep an open mind about party-going, and braced himself for the (possibly long) night ahead.
Tags: all you goiz Notes: I love how everyone's describing the outfits, it feels like a drakonrhedi catwalk. so sassy ~
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Post by Talithe Anyadottir on Feb 25, 2014 1:23:34 GMT
Ahhh. There’s Calder. He’s looking quite nice.
Talithe followed him through the crowd with her eyes for a moment, then lost sight of him. She returned her focus to scanning the crowd for Cedric, who, she hoped, was going to show up any minute. He is going to be in very big trouble if he doesn’t.She watched for another moment, then turned her attention to the table setting for a moment, making sure everything was just right. Talithe managed to miss him making waves through the crowd with his passage as she went over everything one last time. She looked up as she heard a chair being pulled out. Oh, my. He went all-out. Even brought out the top hat.
She smiled as he sat down, looking. "Thanks for sticking me at a table in the middle of everyone I don't want to be around. I'll probably vanish after dinner.”)) She laughed, as if it disappearing after dinner was something funny. She was, however, terribly unamused. A practiced ear could have picked up on this, betraying the beginnings of what was probably a night of exasperation. Mmm. Vanishing. By yourself, I wonder? I hope not. That would be terribly lonely.
But don’t be terribly hasty to vanish or we’ll be forced to assume… things.
She scanned the crowd for what she hoped was his date. Nothing stuck out at her. Sighing, she looked at Cedric, “Don’t be silly, love. What would Shakespeare say if you left the stage too early?” Talithe winked. And then, as if by divine intervention, a young woman showed up at the table and stood, seemingly dumbstruck, next to Cedric. Oh my.
She was wearing a red blindfold, in addition to a dress the same blue as her hair. A blindfold? I hope she’s actually blind. Otherwise I’m going to have to ask Cedric some VERY interesting questions.
"Eh... Hey," She began. "Do you know where the food is?" Talithe pointed down the deck, her finger stopping at several of the smaller tables with food on them. “Help yourself.” She sighed internally, then looked at Cedric, eyebrows raised. Your move, dear. --
behold my posts disintegrating into bullsh!t Calder Raoul, Cedric Vyrrson, Ade Alvadottir, Freya Forsdottir
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Post by Kaelan Avallochson on Feb 25, 2014 2:49:45 GMT
Kaelan felt underdressed. Really underdressed. He didn’t really have anything especially fancy and had just worn a nicer pair of pants and a clean white shirt; compared to others he had seen, he felt like that he needed to be all done up and fancy. He wasn’t the only one dressed more casually though and that gave him some comfort. The only things he’d really done was re-dye his hair and brush it into something actually manageable instead of leaving it as was like usual. He held a cup in his hand and his hazel eyes scanned the boisterous crowds. Happiness assaulted him from every direction and he basked in it. It was a nice change from the usual seriousness that many of the Drakonrhedi assumed during the day, and it was infectious. He could feel his own happiness bubbling up. A sharp sudden note floated over the crowds that hushed after a moment or two. A Vetr was standing, tapping a utensil against her glass. When she finished speaking, the Drakonrhedi expressed their approval with cheers and applause before they resumed their conversations. Kaelan satisfied himself with watching the people interact. He wasn’t shy; he just didn’t want to talk to them and was far more interested in staying out of the way. Raising the cup to his lips he found it empty and frowned to himself. He crossed to the tables that held the refreshments and got himself another drink before he retreated back to his spot. He had only gotten halfway there when someone ran into him, knocking the cup from his hand. It clattered to the ground, its contents spraying everywhere, catching a few unlucky Drakonrhedi, himself included, in its radius. Well, at least it was just water.
Kaelan glanced up at the person who had run into him who had already begun to move away. The person glanced back at him and Kaelan recognized the Tiro that Anton had beaten a while ago. Of course he would. Kaelan nearly rolled his eyes as he stooped to pick up the cup. Now how do I clean this all up?--- Tag: Anyone Notes: Here, have a short post.
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Post by Freya Forsdottir on Feb 25, 2014 4:38:42 GMT
Freya weaved between the thick horde of people, funneling a small sip of champagne down her gullet before quietly placing it on one of the nearby tables. She wasn't one for wasting away her days through alcohol-induced slumber - the mere taste was hardly appealing, let alone the aftermath.
Her progression came to an abrupt halt as a mildly frightened Tiro zipped past her, slinking through the crowd in a seemingly hurried manner. The distinct shatter of glass caused her to cringe slightly. What... what was he running from? Had a fight already broken out?
Oh, honestly!
Her otherwise warm smile had mutated into a discerned grimace, which she maintained for a good two seconds before it faded. She allowed the frown to quickly reimburse itself; after all, that rather unattractive guise may attract more attention than she needed.
No, she knew just who to blame for this one.
The Vetr rearranged herself entirely, backtracking with a new goal in the back of her head. Talithe could handle the situation just fine without her.
Of course, she did want to see this girl up close...
No, no! She wouldn't let the jaunty Pryfektus spoil a perfectly good party with a thinly veiled purpose to which Talithe and Freya could proceed to meddle in the affairs of others with no set goal except some satisfaction and possible amusement and and oh god, she could hardly think like that without finding herself short on breath.
She set her rampaging thoughts aside, seeking out the black-haired man. She had long since lost scent of the noise and its source, although she assumed it came from his position. Shouldn't be too difficult to find. Gah, if only she were just a tiny bit taller, then she might have a chance at-
Aha! Subject found.
She slipped through the crowd and towards Calder, admittedly surprised at his sudden sense of style. She hadn't expected half as much from the entire Drakonrhedi, let alone him. Of all people, too! And she was under the impression that he didn't care at all. She had to admit that he looked reasonable attractive in the uniform, although that was something that she refused to dwell on for longer than a milisecond. She had a purpose, after all, and that purpose wasn't to join in on the array of people admiring his good fashion.
No, she knew it was him! Even with the complete lack of any evidence. There wasn't a scrap of shattered glass in sight, nor any sign of a disruption. In fact, the party was going swimmingly. No disturbance in sight.
Perhaps she was wrong? No! Well, maybe... Okay, she may have allowed her determination to get the better of her. Oh well. If she didn't make conversation at this point, she would be the one to cause a disturbance.
"Ah, I see you made it!" She said, greeting the man heartily. "Impressive choice, I might add."
Tags: Calder Raoul Inspiration: Notes: SHE'S TALKING ABOUT HIS CLOTHES INCase that wasn't obvious idk Table made by Kyvestra.
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Post by Cedric Vyrrson on Feb 25, 2014 12:53:16 GMT
“Don’t be silly, love. What would Shakespeare say if you left the stage too early?”
Cedric sighed. He was about to give some sort of half-witty reply about simply transferring to a different set when someone else caught both Vetrs' attention. It appeared that they had a new guest at their table.
"Eh... Hey. Do you know where the food is?"
He recognized Ade instantly, mostly because of the blue hair but also because of the red blindfold. She wasn't as cheery as she normally was--perhaps from the crowd? Ced thought back to the time he'd applied the aura reading cantrip, brow creasing. Would walking through a crowd be a terribly good idea.
Well, only one way to find out.
His hands went up, dancing as he applied the magic, eyes closed. Once the spell was on, he opened them.
Energy flared all around him, a jumbled mass of people and items and feelings and a large pain in his head. He closed his eyes and dispelled the cantrip, head throbbing from the brief glance.
Eyes shutting again as his head flared with pain, he listened to Talithe's words, pointing to the tables with food. “Help yourself.”
Can she even tell what's food and what's not at this point?
"Ow. Ade, are you sure you're alright with this many people around?" He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. The pain in his head slowly diminished, but it probably wasn't about to for Ade. Then again, perhaps she was more experienced, but he doubted that the crowd was any more enjoyable for her than it was for him. Perhaps that was why she'd preferred to navigate it in snake form.
He glanced over at the food. "If you need help, um, I can assist. It might be easiest for you to shapeshift."
Some tiny part of him noted that then she would also be able to see his clothes, but he tried his hardest to deny that thought's existence. He ought to be much more concerned with keeping Ade uninjured than impressing her. After all, she was his partner, and his life was probably going to rely on her sometime soon.
"I'm headed that way anyway, I can hold onto a second plate for you."
For a moment, he considered the amusement he'd get from a snake curled around his top hat. It would certainly be a sight to see.
However, these thoughts were soon interrupted by other ones.
You idiot, you forgot to compliment her dress! Let alone say hello!
"Uhm. Hi, by the way. Nice dress."
Great job Cedric. Great job.
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Post by Anton Nystrom on Feb 25, 2014 19:02:01 GMT
There was a party that Anton was invited to go to where there would be music, people, and friendly socializing. In truth, it was an social attendance and there was no way to decline the invitation without being looked down upon by the higher-ups. This was a party that most people probably didn't want to attend, but everyone was "encouraged" to go to.
Anton didn't enjoy these parties, but at the same time, he didn't particularly mind them either. They were boring for the most part, but they could be very revealing about people. Plus there was always the chance for the unexpected to happen. Gathering a large group of Drakonrhedi in a smallish area and pretending that everything was going to perfectly smoothly was foolish at best, disastrous at worst.
So Anton did what he would always do. He grabbed his clothes, the white coat recently cleaned to make sure that it was just as clean as ever. And he grabbed his favorite pendant for his necklace -- the "broken" watch. He opened it up to check the time and smiled, murmuring to himself, "It's time to go."
And so Anton made his out out onto the deck of the Drakonborg. The smells of food, from the spicy to the sweet to the rich and full. A growl could be heard from Anton's stomach briefly as he cursed himself for not eating beforehand. It was polite to eat at said party, yes, but you had to appear as if you were very delicate with your food.
And Anton took a breath, scanning the deck for anyone he knew. Though, he knew quite a few people. Most of them were not people he would enjoy socializing with at a party, as that could get quite loud quite quickly. A darting flash caught Anton's eye, and there was another person he knew --Kaelan.
The short Tiro was currently being "assaulted" by the other kid who Anton had scared off earlier. A small, quiet laugh came from Anton as it seemed so ludicrous that he would get his revenge. It's not over yet, idiot. Of course, now was not the time to deal with it either. It was a formal party, after all!
He walked over to Kaelan to see exactly what had happened in a mixed effort to be positively social for once and to see if Kaelan needed any help with the nuisance. Help meaning help cleaning up, of course.
"Hey, Kaelan," Anton called out, a smile on his face as he figured out what exactly happened to him. "So, uh. I take it that kid spilled water on your something? Pretty ridiculous, but I suppose petty is the only way he can get back." Admittedly, that smile had turned into something more of a sheepish look of "don't hate me", but he was trying his hardest to be pleasant.
"Here, I can help you clean it up."
Tags: Kaelan Avallochson Those who aren't taken are welcome to join! Inspiration: Notes: Sorry for picking you out. You're the only one Anton knows at the moment. Well, the only one he's willing to socialize with.
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Post by Ade Alvadottir on Feb 26, 2014 5:42:12 GMT
The female Vetr was the first to speak, gesturing towards a table that was utterly obscured by the surrounding socialists. "Help yourself."She nodded, yet refrained from forcing an idiotic smile. She didn't know why people did that; they were so obviously irritated underneath their stressed grin, it was better that they just didn't bother at all. Of course, her aura reading abilities may influence that a little bit. But all in all... obvious. She threw a glance towards Cedric, who appeared to be slightly overwhelmed. Odd. He was perfectly irked when she first crossed paths with him. He reached for his head as though nursing a sudden headache, allowing a moment to pass before speaking. "Ow. Ade, are you sure you're alright with this many people around"What? Of course she was! She was perfectly capable of socializing on her own. What did he think she was gonna do, beat them all up? Not like she even could at this state. Honestly, he should try looking at the world through her per...perspec... It then dawned on her that he had done just that. Of course, he was fumbling with that aura lens thing! They hadn't made much progress on it - hell, the last time he brought it up was at dinner, and that memory couldn't be more vague. "Well, I've done it before. I mean, it definitely isn't my favorite thing in the world, but I can usually live through it." "If you need help, um, I can assist. It might be easiest for you to shapeshift."She had certainly considered the notion, although she didn't necessarily fancy the idea of being impaled by someone's high-heel. Perhaps she could sit on his shoulder again? Although she wasn't about to be the one to suggest it. "I'm headed that way anyway, I can hold onto a second plate for you."Ooh, that could work. She opened her mouth to reply, but Cedric quickly blurted something before she had the chance. "Uhm. Hi, by the way. Nice dress."Her brow quirked, gaze falling to the fabric as if she had no idea that she was wearing such a thing. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks." Her head reclined to his face him once again. She couldn't exactly return the compliment, but she be damned if she didn't try. "Nice hat. And... Other things, I'm sure." She lazily gestured towards the rest of his body. Okay, enough of this. It was time to get serious. Assuming "serious" was a type of food, of course. "But yeah. It'd probably be better to do the plate thing." A moment passed before she continued. "Onwards, noble steed!"
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Post by Larael Astriddottir on Feb 26, 2014 23:45:03 GMT
A party?
Larael wasn't particularly against parties, she just didn't really see a particular reason for it. Unless, of course, it was an effort to keep morale high, in which case it would serve its purpose quite well.
Unfortunately for Larael, partying was not her strong suit.
In fact, despite her ability to interact on a professional level with others very easily, she had some difficulty relaxing with others. It was bound to be noisy, what with the entire Drakonborg being present. Adding that to the Viking propensity towards violence, and it might be more pleasant for her not to go.
However, she knew she ought to go. Attendance was ostensibly optional, though she knew that someone would eventually notice she wasn't present and seek her out.
Therefore, it was easiest for her to simply go and at least attempt to enjoy herself.
Fortunately for her sense of formality, she possessed clothing appropriate for the occasion.
Sighing, she looked herself in the mirror. The dress was gray, like most of her other apparel, and reached to just above the floor. The fabric itself was mostly unadorned, for which she was grateful. She wouldn't be drawing too much attention. She had pinned up her hair, and around her neck she wore a silver necklace with an emerald pendant. She carried her gun with her, strapped to her thigh, just in case. She doubted she'd actually need it, but she wanted it just to be sure. She rotated slightly, examining herself.
You look good.
Larael smiled at her reflection, turning towards the door, then hesitating a moment and looking towards her bookshelf.
Surely, it wouldn't be considered terribly bad form to bring a book? Selecting one of the tomes, she carried it delicately under her arm as she walked down the hallway to join the party.
The first thing she noticed was the noise. From every area of the deck, from Tiro to Vetr, people were being merry and enjoying themselves. She sought out a relatively open area at a railing, and parked herself near a man who was busying himself looking over the railing. She looked outwards, as well, eyes traveling upwards towards the moon.
| Tags: Thorulf Donalbain Inspiration: We are not going to talk about my girlfriend being a f*cking WIZARD and finding this dress in ten minutes after I asked her... Notes: Heeeey~ Click the inspiration, it's mad pretty. table made by Opal.
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Post by Thorulf Donalbain on Feb 27, 2014 1:03:16 GMT
Thorulf was well aware of certain conversations and events taking place behind him; a Vetr was having an awkward conversation with a young woman, a Tiro had spilt his drink on another. Little things that were all insignificant to Thorulf and equally none of his business, so he kept his safe distance. Thorulf was one for watching things unfold before him and never interfering unless he absolutely had to, not out of laziness or indifference on his part, but more out of respect. He had his thoughts and opinions - they were allowed to surface in his mind, but never escape his lips if they conflicted with his job, his ranking or his own sense of common etiquette. He was a man who obeyed the rules before he obeyed his own conscience.
Still, this whole party idea was proving to be a rather dull affair for Thorulf. At the back of his mind, a wicked hope that the shindig would be interrupted by a herd of Behemoths surfaced and niggled away in his brain, causing a small smirk to spread across his lips at the mental image of everyone launching into the fray, donned in formal party gear. He liked to think he could handle such an event and still keep his suit clean, then casually saunter up to the table and request a whiskey on the rocks. It was an egocentric thought that Thorulf rarely envisioned; he knew his place as indeed was he aware of his own limits. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and while he'd aged well in looks, deep down he carried the bitterness of time.
It was just then, when his mind was on the verge of descending into somber thought, that Thorulf found that he wasn't alone on the railing. Another had seemingly found themselves cast out from the buzzing activity of the party and sought a peaceful solitude. Thorulf cast a glance over, not wanting to turn his head and stare out of worry that he might appear rude and found he was in the company of a fellow Pryfektus. None other than Larael Astriddottir.
She wasn't dressed as lavishly as some of the other women at the party, but it was in her simplistic style that Thorulf saw the charm of her attire. Still, his mind reminded him, save those pleasantries for later.
He'd had brief conversations before with the other Pryfektus, but they were both work-focused so neither had really found the proper occasion to socialise. As it happens, parties were actually good for something. It would be nice to finally get to know his fellow Pryfektus.
Thorulf looked back out into the starry openness of the sky before them and, after a moment or two, cleared his throat. "Not really into the party scene, either?" he asked Larael, with a somehow quizzical but all-knowing eyebrow raised, "Or have you come to keep an old guy company?"
Alright, he over-exaggerating; he wasn't old in the slightest. But his remark came from the fact that he was dimly aware that he was probably one of the oldest here. He wasn't bitter of such an idea at all; he rather liked to think that in his accumulated years he excelled in his experience as a Drakonrhedi. True, he wasn't a Vetr, but if the Council decided he worked best as a Pryfektus, then Thorulf trusted their judgement wholeheartedly. Just like he was inclined to trust all opinions made clear by his superiors.
Tags: Larael Astriddottir Notes: it's short i know but yaaaay shipz
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Post by Cedric Vyrrson on Feb 27, 2014 2:39:16 GMT
"Well, I've done it before. I mean, it definitely isn't my favorite thing in the world, but I can usually live through it."
"I would certainly hope so," he muttered beneath his breath. Dating a dead person wasn't something he was entirely well-prepared for.
Ced, you're not dating, so shut up.
In response to his standard nicety, she seemed a little baffled. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks. Nice hat. And... Other things, I'm sure."
A brow quirked at the 'other things' part in amused questioning, accompanied by a quick "heh" from the Vetr. These movements could, perhaps, be taken entirely in the wrong manner, as if implying an innuendo that Cedric didn't realize was possible. Thus, he marched on through the conversation with a quick nod. "Oh, yes. Everyone loves the hat."
Ade took a moment to contemplate her path. Cedric let her, peering up at her and simply waiting for her response. Of course, he hoped she'd decide to stick around at least for a bit, or abscond with him somewhere less crowded. The observation decks to the side weren't nearly as crowded, but still provided a place from which he could observe the party and make sure things were running smoothly. Although the event technically wasn't his particular project, that didn't mean that the Vetrs shouldn't all chip in to help make sure it went well.
"But yeah. It'd probably be better to do the plate thing. Onwards, noble steed!"
The Vetr nodded, leaning over and holding one arm close to the ground for a moment in case she decided to shapeshift. "If you want a ride, now's the time."
After that pause he stood, attempting to decide whether to take his cane or leave it. Considering the fact he might just run away to the platforms with Ade after obtaining food, it seemed like the best course of action was to bring it, especially because it also doubled as a weapon.
As such, he tucked it in the crook of an arm and then proceeded onwards to the food table.
The people cleared up slightly for the Vetr, edging away from him out of respect and quite possibly fear. To be honest, Cedric didn't care enough to put much thought into which one.
He retrieved two plates, balancing one on his forearm and the other on his hand.
"Right, uh. Just tell me what you want. Also, if you've got no objections, I'm thinking of fleeing the scene entirely. There's a nice observation space up atop the overlooks, and that way I can keep an eye on things without actually being around so many people. I mean, if you want to come."
He forked a steak and stuck it on his own plate before awaiting orders.
| Tags: Ade AlvadottirInspiration: Dream Theater - Root of All Evil Notes: yAY HAVE A BAD POST WITH A GOOD AMOUNT OF AWKWARD it was so tempting to have him say "you can go ahead and ride me ade" but that was bad even for him |
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