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 Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2024 11:07 am
Characters: Kieran, Oliver and Ophelia
Plot: After a disastrous first encounter, the duchess of light and her new friend get better acquainted over tea. Oliver is also there sometimes, for fun. What follows is a tale as old as time.
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Posted: Sun Sep 08, 2024 6:31 pm
   LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: No one...yet xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Black Cathedral
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
It had been some evenings since the night of the explosion, and Kieran's mind was haunted by pitch-black apparitions whispering his failures in his ear. On that night his quarry had been stolen away from him, the scene he set up so delicately reduced to cinders as a few of the other students came in a flash burned everything away. And instead of being able to make those fools understand who they'd so rudely interrupted, he had instead been forced to contend with a man determined to win the Worst Brother Of The Year award. It was outrageous! It was unfair! Where did all of those arrogant little shits get off undermining the prince of darkness? Even worse, he was certain that now the silver-haired brute got the credit for harming that innocent tea drinker! It all drove Kieran insane.
But the past was dead, and he was still among the living. Tonight he'd simply begin to try again.
As per his ingenious stage direction, the pieces were already in place. Thanks to information from his wench on the inside, Kieran made sure to be more personable when spending his days on the campus. His only moments of reprieve had been with her and the mad princess, who to her credit seemed much more put together than she had been the last time they'd gotten to know each other. Well, as put together as an open box of marbles can be. Still, she seemed useful enough. Control of the black market had its benefits, and through Ms. Tonnerre he was able to acquire rather useful protections for his quarters. Combined with the use of his servants' watchful eyes, he had concocted quite the safety net for him to at least be able to unleash himself in his quarters. He'd planned his next performance well into advanced, and he needed the time to himself in order to prepare.
The next order of business was to secure his leading lady, which was easy enough. The poor deary felt horrible, thinking the prince of darkness had stuck his neck out for her safety. Then again, it wasn't entirely wrong; he had wanted to keep her to himself so that he could harm her. But since that night, more interesting prospects emerged. The woman showed bravery even in the face of quite the powerful enemy, and though she hadn't escaped that frightening encounter on her own she certainly knew how to play a splendidly defiant tune. Kieran wanted to know more of her now, what made her tick.
Getting the poor sap to agree to spending some time with him was easier still. He remembered the motions of his previous, feeble-minded self quite well, and regaled Ms. Akimi with stories of emotional turmoil. The bruises definitely helped sell his little story, and the guilt that Ms. Akimi felt towards his injuries only served to steer her further towards him. How unfortunate.
Running off of their goal of having tea that first night they met, Kieran offered Ms. Akimi a "rain check" on their tea time escapades while she was assisting in healing him from the damage he sustained while battling that silver-haired warmonger. He went on to assure her that he hadn't actually considered her "damaged goods". On the contrary, he thought her to be in rather pristine condition minus the defective eyes. But he kept that much to himself.
It was now opening night to his revised show, and Kieran reminded himself that he was ready for this. If he could not go about his usual methods of revelry, then fine; he'd simply find the sweetest souls this school had to offer and find ways to break them emotionally. Surely if Gwendolyn could begin her merriment he could do something to pass the time. Besides, this woman and her healing abilities could prove very useful to his plans. The ability to rejuvenate from harm surely was a crucial piece in the puzzle that was attaining eternal life. Ms. Akimi participating willingly for the sweet prince that defended her honor would be the easiest route, but Kieran wasn't exactly concerned if she would make things easier for him. Either way, he'd get a stellar performance from her.
His phantom tendrils swirled around him, gathering his clothing for him as he readied himself for the occasion. From his room to a nearby mess hall, a chain of servants had been placed that would facilitate the arrival of kettles, an assortment of teas both mundane and exotic in variety, and a plethora of snacks fit for a king...or in this case, prince. If the blackest sheep of Shahiti was going to find some form of enjoyment in tonight's festivities, he'd do so with only the finest props available to him.
The time in which he and Ms. Akimi had scheduled their little get together was soon approaching. With his final preparations completed, Kieran allowed the dark tendrils of his shadow to recede into obscurity. The woman had yet to see his abilities in action, and he wanted that to be a surprise. Standing before a dresser adorned with accents of the purest obsidian, he took one last look at the rings that bound him to both a pitiful past and a boundless future. They were placed together in a black box with twin slits for both of them to nestle into. He enjoyed looking at them from time to time, and experiencing the wide range of emotions they brought out from him. They were a reminder of the weakling doomed to suffer, but also of the man of the present who carried with him limitless potential. Potential that that Kieran Price would have most certainly squandered. But that man was dead now, along with his one true love. May they rest in peace.
Closing the box, he placed it into one of the dresser's drawers and finished adjusting his attire. Placing his eye patch on, a wicked grin grew wide on his face as he awaited the arrival of his newfound victim friend. Humming a tune to himself, he danced around in a final check of things before the main event began.
"Imagine me and you, I do...I think about you day and night, it's only riiiiight..."
OOC: Big thanks to Robin for the new layout!
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Posted: Wed Sep 25, 2024 8:21 am
 LOCATION: Kitchen-- Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Chef Suzen-- Kieran's door xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: I wanna be somebody.
"I'm sorry Puddin. Another one of those self-righteous pricks Utopia likes to label as royalty cleared out the entire tea cabnet this morning!”
Ophelia’s eyes widened as she turned out of another cook's path. All too familiar with the buzzing activity in the kitchen by now to know that standing stagnant would only cause more problems for the staff than joining the bustling dance of busybodies. Shifting back to the brunette’s side, she didn’t try to hide the worry and confusion that etched onto her features. ”Really? All of it?” Suzen nodded defeatedly while wiping at the beads of sweat on her brow, leaving a pale trail of white powdered sugar streaked across her forehead. “And half the kitchen in side dishes, I might add. I don’t know what shindig they’re throwing, but they sure did a fine job of informing my kitchen in a timely manner.” Bitterness was an ugly shade coating Chef Suzen as she twisted to grab her most recent batch of beignets and move them onto a cart filled to the brim with fresh baked goods.
Slamming her hand onto a bell, her voice rang through the kitchen with a thundering boom. “ ORDER UP! Someone get these out of here so we can start lunch! And JULIAN, IF I GET ONE MORE REPORT ABOUT YOUR FINGERS IN THE ICING, I SWEAR I’LL CUT’EM OFF.” like a finely tuned machine, each cook straightened, voices ringing out like a battle cry. "Yes Chef!" Phi herself had never witnessed the battle on the war front, only the carnage resulting from it. But she imagined this is what a general leading an army would look and act like. Well... all except for Julian. Chef sure picked on the scrawny black-haired boy a lot for some reason. "Sorry Chef." The lengthy male tried to make himself as small as possible as he shuffled to their side and grabbed the cart.
Watching Julian quickly scurry past them, a grumble bubbled out of Ophelia's stomach as the sweet smell of treats wafted away. Leaving her to daydream over what that alluring cart filled with different-flavored cakes, biscuits, and freshly baked cookies piped with melting icing tasted like as it bolted out the double doors on its way to an unknown destination. Turning back to Suzen, she was surprised to see a plate hovering in front of her with one beignet tucked neatly in the center.
Phi eagerly moved to grab the treat, but the grunting breath of a nearby cook had her halting mid-reach. Yanking her back to that morning with her maiden’s grunting as they struggled to tighten her corset. A soft warning curled at the back of her mind. “A moment on the lips forever on the hips, my darling girl.” Like a broken record, her mother's high-strung voice filtered through on repeat. It wasn't reasonable to think coming to Utopia would free her of her mother's puppeteering strings, especially when each new letter read to her from home involved some question about her most recent measurements. At least it was tastefully disguised in a promise to send the newest Alorean fashion, but Phi had also tactfully ignored those responses out of fear for her mothers response to the unsavory numbers.
Tucking her hands back in front of her, she sighed. "Thank you, Suzen, but I really shouldn't. I just stopped in because I wanted to hand-pick a special brew for a friend." No matter how delectable the golden-lined pastry looked, it molded to the turmoil that spread through her stomach at the thought of having tea with no tea present. Especially when she owed so much to this new friendship she was attempting to harbor.
The naive part of her prayed that Syena hadn't turned his rage on the two men left behind since Clint aided her great escape.. But when the man drenched in shadow arrived at her door, battered and bruised, to apologize for something he hadn't even said about her—it was the storybook of her greatest fear coming to fruition. Luckily, Sir Price had been willing to let her heal him, but that wasn't enough to satiate the budding guilt inside the bright-eyed girl. No, Ophelia needed to make it up to him and return his kindness tenfold. So, it became a side quest for the duchess to help heal more than just his flesh. The cheat sheet Orby offered could only warn her of dark dealings hinting at someone needing more. Colors could only show her so much; to find the best course of action, she needed to know him. Which was what this tea was for. What it was supposed to be for.
A purely maniacal laugh erupted from the chef before her, yanking Phi from her thoughts as she watched the woman double over to cradle her stomach. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to pause at the unfamiliar sound, worried looks slipping from person to person as though she were a ticking time bomb. Then she was up, back pin straight as she slammed the plate she'd been holding onto the counter and yelled. " Back to work! Evon! Man my station I have something to do!" A shorter woman hurried over to take Suzen's spot as the cook turned on her slip-resistant heels and strode towards the pantry. "It's now or never Puddin, come to the pantry with me; I've been hard at work creating something just for you~" There was a light-hearted singsongy tone in the chef's words now, but the naughty color weaved into her aura didn't go unnoticed by the duchess.
Still, Phi was right on her heels, Orby floating about the dimly lit space of the damp pantry to help guide the sight-deprived girl directly to a cherrywood hutch tucked neatly in the corner. Suzen's hands wrapped around Ophelia's, leading her fingers to the small empty space behind it. When her pointer finger caught on a small key, Phi pulled it back, hardly inspecting its shape before eagerly unlocking the large cabinet before her. A gasp tore from the tea lover's throat as Orby illuminated row upon row of glittering glass jars filled to the brim with loose-leaf tea. "You did this?" The chef beside her beamed with pride. " It's all special teas from my kitchen. Are you questioning my outstanding generosity Puddin?" A laugh slipped from Ophelia's lips as she shook her head no, knowing better than to question a general in her own kitchen. "Now then, it's all yours. You know where the key is, so use it anytime you want. That way, you won't have to wait on shipments of tea bags every time some royal scoundrel decides to throw a last-minute tea party for their army."
The next thirty minutes were spent with Phi jumping between tea jars, locating each of her favorites first before dabbling in some newer ones she had never heard of. The duchess could have spent hours sampling each one, but she was on a time crunch. Meticulously selecting a few she knew had better qualities, she threw together her own special brew for the man who had taken so much for her. A few buds of Lavender and lemongrass for relaxation, green tea for functionality, and a dash of hibiscus to promote harmony between the budding friendship. The selfish part of her also loved the deep red color of hibiscus when steeped and hoped Mr. Price enjoyed the blend of sweet paired with the tart sensation that resulted from each sip. It was like she was a little witch creating a love potion—well, a friendship potion.
Reaching into the small cotton tote she'd lugged around all day, Phi pulled out a silver canister not much larger than her hand. Intricate honeycomb lines were etched into the metal, and each deep divot showed the canister's age by the tarnished lines that formed over years of use. But still, their bubbled edges shined where the constant friction of a tea-loving fanatic's hands had polished them into a vibrant gleam. Filling it with the personal blend, Phi smiled as she giddily locked up, hid the key, gathered her skirt, and bolted out of the pantry. Calling out over her shoulder in a dash of pink. “Thank you General Suzen!” As she broke through the double doors. Through their swinging, she could hear her chef. “Anytime pud- JULIAN, GET THIS MESS-”
Having visited Oliver once or twice in the past weeks, Ophelia found it easier to locate the men's hallway now. She even became so familiar with the motions that her fingers never reached to brush a doorway or count turns. Naturally, her footsteps slowed as she passed her golden prince's door, a soft grin curling across fully healed lips as though he would pop out to greet her with that dazzling smile. But that wasn't what she was here for, No, not to self-indulge in her giddy love story but to repay a debt and aid an actor in finding his color again. Whether he knew it or not. Snapping her thoughts back into the present, she turned her focus on a room tucked into the shadows at the furthest end of the winding hallway. The location was odd to Phi, as though it was the only room on this floor that the midday sunlight refused to grace.
Wringing her hands on the canister as she approached, Ophelia stared at the large black door encased in obsidian trim. Even now, the kaleidoscope of hues Orby produced was swallowed beneath the empty color before her, like a silent void that rang a slight warning in the back of her mind. "I'll swallow you whole." it seemed to warn.
Forcing down her worry, the dutchess uncurled her fingers and reached in, waiting until the chilled bite of marble pressed into the pads of her fingers to tap lightly. " Mr. Price? " Her words were barely more than a whisper, but the door swung open with such force one might have thought she had yelled. Doe-wide eyes shot up, locking onto the familiar silhouetted figure above her. The sunlight of an open window further in the room cast the man's features in shadows, but she knew it was him and not some butler by the golden halo of hair encasing him.
Offering a soft smile she could only assume painted his features as well, Ophelia curled her fingers around the canister, holding it to her chest as she prepared to make her first offer of friendship. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting. I wanted to hand pi-." But as she spoke, Mr.Price stepped to the side and swept out his arm, welcoming her in. Any words she had left died on her tongue at the unveiling of the lavish quarters beyond him. Usually, the shocking sight of this much onyx drenching every surface would convince this Alorean dutchess to turn on her heels and run. It should have been a blaring warning, that despite the colors that danced around the sweet man, he only seemed to trust one shade.
She might have even asked him about his obsession with the color, but the smell of an all-too-familiar lineup had her feet brushing past the threshold to get a closer look. Was Mr.Price the man who had become the bane of Chef Suzen's existence? He had to be; the same cakes, biscuits, and freshly sugar-coated beignets were displayed beautifully over a black lace-lined table just beyond. All of it nestled near a bubbling teapot at an intimate seating arrangement where row upon row of meticulously labeled tea options sat primed for making. Not one type was missing from what used to fill the overflowing tea cabinet in the kitchen. This had been far more than Ophelia was expecting; just who was this halo-hued hero? Had he really gone out of his way to request all this? For their small tea gathering? Red danced a line across her cheeks, suddenly embarrassed to have spent the time making him a personalized brew when he had gone so far as to prepare tea for an army.
Turning back to thank him, Ophelia finally took notice of Orby's hesitation just beyond the threshold. Reaching out for her companion, she-
SLAM
The almost violent sound sent a tremor through her that curled into something far worse as she felt her connection with the little orb of light coldly severed. Every sharp, defining line of the room blurred into muddled figures while the small black spots that always hid at the edge of her vision grew and warped to pull at the blissful clear spaces she had grown accustomed to. It was too late to contain the tremble in her outreached hand as she yanked it back to her chest, attempting to disguise the worry pulsing through her by running soothing circles over the well-traveled canister she had brought from home.
As if thoughts of home could somehow improve this development. Tangling her free hand into the white lace of her skirt, Ophelia shifted back toward the doorway with every intention of correcting the little mistake. But a gentle hand caught her shoulder, and the unmistakable smell of a leather-gloved hand tangled with the sweet aroma in the air as it urged her towards their seating. She wasn't ready to sit yet. But what excuse could she use to get the door open again? Painting a genuine smile confidently on her lips, she firmly planted her feet. Dragging her gaze up to place the blurred features of her blond friend between the annoying spots in her vision, she held out her canister and finally offered it to him.
" If I had known what all you had prepared this afternoon, Mr.Price, I would have saved the silly little gift I made for you for another day." She started confident...good. Hopefully, she could keep it going. " But it's truly one of a kind if you wouldn't mind trying it first..."
Ophelia's voice trailed as she sighed and made a little show of sweeping her eyes over the kettle nearby. "Oh, but I don't see any infusers for loose leaves. I have some beautiful ones in my room. Grabbing them wouldn't take more than a moment. I really think it'll be worth it." It wasn't a lie; she hadn't seen any infusers before her vision gave out.
OOC:
 
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Posted: Wed Oct 02, 2024 9:13 am
LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: Ophelia xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: We Don't Have To Dance
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
Tch, what could possibly be taking this woman so long? Do they not teach punctuality where she hails from?
The prince of darkness began to slowly pace around his room, unable to sit still with such maddening thoughts. He had put such time into making sure each piece of his intricate puzzle fell exactly into place as per his design. So why the ******** wasn't she here yet!? The darkness swirled around him, whipping about as it fumed along with him. Did the sun-fearing madwoman get lost? I suppose it wouldn't be outrageous, all things considered, but I had placed extra time than I normally would to account for her...issue. He hadn't gotten confirmation that the pink-haired damsel was from Alore, sure, but was it really much of a mystery? The poor Deary had that overgrow firefly following her around at all times, and given her last performance, it seemed as though the nightlife did much to make her any more powerful.
But the less he thought of the night of the explosion, the better. He was off to brighter pastures now, just hopefully not literally. Luckily, he kept his room more than dark enough to easily deal with that freakish little orb. And since his wounds were healed, he would not again have to see the woman's freakish glow that came when she used her "magic hands." The way she disgustingly brought such radiance through her fingers as she worked her putrid light magic-it was as if she were injuring him anew as she did it. Physical wounds were one thing, but to have the brilliance of the sun right in your singular working eye? It was a serious pain in the a**. His only solace at the time was that he'd soon get a chance to properly educate her on the futility of the light; for as long as there has been day, so too has come night. It was inescapable, and she too would be powerless to get away from him once she was in his clutches.
Then again, why would she even want to? He was giving her the opportunity of a lifetime: to be the lead in a once in a lifetime kind of production! Chances like that didn't come to just anyone, either. No, only the finest victims got to be attached to projects under his masterful leadership. So why was she acting like she had time to squander that? Could she not see that?
...Well, at least if this Prince of Darkness gig goes to s**t I'd probably make good money as a comedian.
Chuckling to himself, his pacing ceased for a moment. Letting himself get so worked up over a worthless insect like Ms. Akimi would only further the disservices done to his person today; he deserved better. The world owed him better, honestly. But the world couldn't be trusted to do right by him. Not anymore, anyway. Things such as faith and good fortune were ideologies purported by the weak to excuse the agency they failed to acquire for themselves in life. But he was no weakling. Only he could ensure that he was treated as he deserved to be; he knew that now more than ever.
Perhaps that weakness was the reason that Ms. Akimi was running behind schedule. While she'd proven herself to not be completely helpless during their last outing together, it did take her knight in shining cowboy hat to completely remove her from harm's way. As brave as she'd been to fight back against her aggressor, to show him that she wasn't some tool to be called upon whenever he needed her, it hadn't been enough. It rarely was with unreasonable monsters like the silver-haired brute. People like that man don't care about anything besides getting what they want, no matter the damage they leave in their wake, and there were so many like him out in the world. That's why one had to be better than them, to be able to beat them at their own game. To beat them so mercilessly that they knew their place from then on. It was a shame that Ms. Akimi was unlikely to attain such dominance over her own world, but on the other hand, who doesn't love a good tragedy?
There was an irony to having such an ideology, of course. People like Ms. Tonnerre, the type to stick their noses where they didn't belong, were chomping at the bit to weave such vicious tales about horrors they've only ever seen in their mind's eye to poke fun at his current state of mind. But even if they had been there, it wouldn't matter; he didn't care what lesser beings thought or understood. His understanding of the world was the only one that mattered to him now. The world was full of monsters, so he would aspire to be the most terrifying of them all. Once the issue of his mortality was dealt with, all would come to heel or otherwise be at his mercy. And unfortunately for them, mercy wasn't something he often considered.
" Mr. Price? "
Playing the part of mouse perfectly, it was only the tiniest squeak of her voice and the faintest tappity tap tap of her fingers that alerted Kieran to Ms. Akimi's presence just outside his door. Well it's about time. A wicked smile had naturally grown across his pale face, but he knew to reel it in. There would be time to indulge in the fruits of his labor soon enough; for now, he had an act to keep up. Putting on the cheery facade of the happy-go-lucky boy he once was, he swung the door wide open for an eagerly awaiting victim.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting. I wanted to hand pi-."
"Oh, think nothing of it! Now please, do come in. We wouldn't want the kettles to go cold as we just talked by the doorway."
For some reason, the little lady seemed ever so fixated on the sound of her own voice. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't the kindest stage director out there. Still, it wasn't as though he were being completely inhospitable; judging by the way her pale eyes widened upon witnessing the magnificence that was his quarters, he surmised that such beauty wasn't something Ms. Akimi was accustomed to. The look on her face was almost adorable...but it too bothered him. Waving her in, he turned his eye to the doorway and saw her little glowy friend show a moment of hesitation while the damsel stepped into his quarters.
Tsk, tsk. Better luck next time, Deary.
Giving the orb the same fake smile he was giving Ms. Akimi, he playfully stuck out his tongue before slamming the door shut and leaving it to rot. As the pink-haired damsel stepped further into her own demise, Kieran took in her features. Goodness, that dress is so...tacky. Poor Deary probably doesn't know better either; it's so unfortunate. I'll just have to bring more misfortune upon her so that the travesty that is her fashion sense is less noticeable. There was a certain beauty to her, though; the look on her face as her false courage dissolved into dread was ever the sight to behold. He'd have to get himself more of that at some point. For now, though, he was satisfied with simply getting to know her better today. After all, the better he knew her the better he could torture get a good performance out of her.
" If I had known what all you had prepared this afternoon, Mr.Price, I would have saved the silly little gift I made for you for another day. But it's truly one of a kind if you wouldn't mind trying it first..."
It became apparent to Kieran that getting ahead of herself was simply the mouse's base nature. I kind of knew I had my work cut out for me with this one, but it's like she's trying her absolute best to find new ways to be grating at every opportunity. Once again did she try to save face with a smile, pitifully attempting to act as if she weren't so woefully insecure right now. Was her pet really so important to her? The rose color that had once been painted across her cheeks had left her, with only a de-saturated shell of her natural tone remaining. The poor thing was rather tense, terrified even. It was exquisite.
"Oh, but I don't see any infusers for loose leaves. I have some beautiful ones in my room. Grabbing them wouldn't take more than a moment. I really think it'll be worth it."
With how weakly the poor thing spoke, he was worried she'd pass out from exhaustion if she strained herself any further. That would not do. Taking a step towards the damsel, he placed gentle hands on her shoulders to try and calm her nerves. Eyeing the various platters made for their little get-together, he noticed that infusers were indeed nowhere to be found. Then again, he hadn't expected the weirdo to go about making custom tea bags for the two of them. Would that really personalize the experience so much? The idea was so damn adorable that it made him want to puke. Instead, however, he held firm and continued with his facade.
"My, my, my. Ever the worrywart, aren't you Ms. Akimi? Fret not, my dear, this is what we have servants for. Please, do sit down."
Gesturing to a pair of chairs next to her, an initial assortment of kettles, teas, and snacks on a table between them, he hoped the damsel would stop being so annoying for one second and do as she was told. After all, her leaving now could bring...complications. Kieran acknowledged that he might've just gotten lucky when keeping Ms. Akimi's pet from bringing its hideous glow into his quarters and didn't want to risk potential contamination of his belongings if he didn't have to. Walking past her and back to the door, he allowed himself to drop his disgustingly sweet smile for a moment to knock on his door. Quickly enough, he heard footsteps. A voice from behind the door addressed him.
"How may I be of service, m'lord?"
"Be a dear and fetch us some 'tea diffusers', won't you? And do make haste; who knows what sort of mishaps this campus has for us today."
Turning back to his star-to-be, he walked back to the table and took a seat facing her. Crossing his legs, he brought his elbow to rest on his thigh as his hand traced his chin. Tap, tap, tap. Ever curiously did he look at her, his singular icy eye continuing to size her up. She was so...plain. So normal. So boring. He was beginning to wonder what exactly she'd done to garner such an interest in him. No, there'd been something there. Something about looking at the woman in front of him felt like he was staring down a distant memory. One of a man who was normal and the woman he was normal with. Yes, she did bear some resemblance to that life with the way that she acted. Oh, how naive she must be.
"So then, Ms. Akimi, since I have you here, I am most curious as to how your experience at this school has been so far. As I understand it, there has been quite a bit of turmoil since the very first class, and I believe you offer a...unique perspective on it all. "
Speaking coyly, he bent himself down a bit to reach out and grab a chocolate cupcake and place it on one of the empty, stacked dessert plates adorned on either side of the table. Taking a bite out of the delectable morsel, he smiled as he enjoyed the confection for all that it was worth. It was better than anything he'd had so far at the school, and you could just taste the desperation the nobodies who prepared his assortment of treats for the evening had while preparing all this for them. He'd given them a far shorter time frame than normal; in part to test their abilities but also just for fun. And snacking on the results now he had to say that he was quite impressed. As such, he'd have to give them even less time when he had use for their services next. As a treat.
"And please, do help yourself to as much as you'd like. After all, any friend of mine deserves the absolute best."
Friend was a much kinder term than how'd actually describe her relation to him, but honesty would not help him in a situation like this. As he smiled as if he cared, he knew that he'd have to at least attempt to match the sunshine and rainbows level of cheer she herself always used as a mask. Perhaps when this was over they'd take their masks off together. He imagined she wouldn't like what she saw once he took his off, but that was kind of the point. In that way, he really was quite excited; the table read had now begun.
OOC:
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Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2024 4:24 pm
LOCATION: Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Kieran xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: Be A Light.
At the sound of scuffing footsteps approaching, Ophelia knew her mission had failed. Her desperate little attempt to find a reason to yank that door open fell too flat.
"My, my, my. Ever the worrywart, aren't you Ms. Akimi? Fret not, my dear, this is what we have servants for. Please, do sit down."
“That is true, I suppose.” Ophelia's words were as soft as the calming defeat that washed over her; taking her seat, she leaned her elbows onto the table and laced her fingers beneath her chin to watch her hazy companion make his request through the door. Servants seemed to be a preferred method to the likes of Mr.Price, If this extravagant display told her anything. Well, she couldn't pin only him. Most royals liked to utilize the help when she put that much thought into it.
Things were different for the duchess, who refused all help unless it was to assist in taming the rat's nest her hair became when failing to let it dry properly. While being waited on hand and foot was usually the golden life for the elite, it was a blackened spot to Ophelia, who always had it done against her wishes. Without fail, Mother Akimi would hover nearby to nitpick and fuss over everything her blind daughter couldn't do with the proper grace and fluidity of a seeing person. The worst part was when she would scold the servants who dared to let her daughter try. Maybe that was when Phi had grown such a soft spot for the help; they were more human than her family had been. Than most of the elites ever were. At least the help could sense her needs and encouraged her to mess up, even if it was just to learn. Because of them, the duchess found joy in accomplishing small tasks, not just a sense of relief in their completion. Had the man taking his place across from her tried going twenty-four hours without a helping hand?
The heavy weight of a ghostly eye drew the duchess from her thoughts; realizing how improper her form had become, she straightened her spine, crossed her ankles, and placed her hands neatly in her lap. Slipping comfortably back into the smiling role of Alore duchess—just as she had been taught when under observation. Worry sat like a stone in her stomach, unsure what he could be looking so intently at. While understanding what he was thinking was far from her scope of abilities, what he was feeling at least gave her some insight. But with stress pin needling its way down her spine at the loss of Orby, she couldn't get a color on him.
"So then, Ms. Akimi, since I have you here, I am most curious as to how your experience at this school has been so far. As I understand it, there has been quite a bit of turmoil since the very first class, and I believe you offer a...unique perspective on it all. And please, do help yourself to as much as you'd like. After all, any friend of mine deserves the absolute best."
The stone crumbled away, forcing Ophelia to catch the giggle bubbling up her throat with her fingers. Unexpected relief swirled through her at his passing turn of phrase. 'Friend' was right where she longed to be, but his pointed terminology caught her off guard and wasn't lost to her. Grasping at the shared humor in their similar visual predicaments, she rebuttaled faster than the speed of light. " Even with my limited perspective on things, I can assure you, It's not wholly one-sighted." Sudden hesitation flashed through her eyes as the words slipped out, unable to stop the teasing response from riding the last of her amusement. If knocking words out of the air was possible, Ophelia would be swinging. But it wasn't, and Phi wondered if she had already been demoted from friendship levels. Not being able to gauge his emotional reaction was a problem; how did people do it? How did she used to do it when she was younger? Simply sit back, and hope the man sitting across from her could eat the same teasing he dished out? Though life stories as traumatic as hers was hardly a decent joking topic for tea time, It still had her hoping their friendship would nurture a connection comfortable enough to unveil both of their origins.
Quickly opting to move on, she diverted her gaze and reached to take what was offered for the second time today. Gingerly plucking a steaming beignet from one of the trays, she placed it neatly onto the center of her plate and returned her hand to run her fingers over the lineup of glittering jars beside it, selecting the darkest hue and hovering it beneath her nose." Before I share my opinions, I would like to address one topic of importance. Ms.Akimi, is my mother. Please, I prefer friends call me Ophelia when it's just us. Or Phi if you favor nicknames." Her nose crinkled With the tart smell of Cherry preserves... And maybe the mention of her mother.- No, no... it was definitely the cherry.. that would not pair well with the tea she had made them. Quickly placing the jar back, she moved to the next in search of honey. "Though, Lady Ophelia will do if you find more comfort in formalities, Mr. Price." She wouldn't call him anything else unless instructed otherwise, and with no colors to gauge his reactions, it was essential to offer an out. While calling her a friend was one thing, dropping the formal facade was another, and she didn't want to force anything on the evening-wrapped obscurity before her. Patience was a virtue in which the duchess was well versed, and she wanted nothing more than for this man to be comfortable in her presence.
The soft sound of a door clicking closed had Ophelia's head snapping to the side in a flurry of pink curls. The requested servant took shape as he timidly scurried closer to present a small silver platter. Hiding her frustration at Orby's failure to break the threshold for a second time, Phi's smile still managed to waver at the familiar sight of her personal golden star-shaped Tea-Infusers balancing on the tray.
"Tea Infusers, my lord and lady." With a bow, he tilted the trey to showcase his findings. Ophelia's mouth bobbed open to say thank you, but the words stayed settled on her tongue, her mind too busy whirling over the possibility of this servant rummaging through her room to find her Tea Infusers.
Weren't they tucked beneath the liftable top hatch on her desk? Getting to them required moving the meticulously placed stones she had yet to set for her newest suncatcher. This was another reason the duchess didn't favor the use of servants... She liked knowing things were left exactly where she put them. And While the thought was... appreciated? What if going to such lengths to find her items messed up the color order of her stones?
Well, there was little to gripe about now, and there was no point in arguing her discomfort when things so often never entirely panned out in her favor. Shaking the curls from her shoulders a tight smile found it's home on her lips as she reached for the trey. "These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them." Ophelia's determination was rooted in flipping the script; looking at the bright side of things was preferred. At least she had her favorite tea infusers and maybe she would like Mr.Price's servants' rendition of color theory better than her own. A fresh set of eyes could help her decide what order to put things in.
With a bow, Ophelia's open palms were brushed past as the servant placed the tray directly on the table and eyed her canister. " Please- allow me to prepare them." Phi's hand shot out, catching the mans wrist before his fingers could catch the lid. "No, thank you. I've got it from here." Even though she was not the one hosting their gathering, she had proposed the idea, so it was customary for her to prepare and pour the tea for Mr.Price. That and these specific Tea Infusers were very delicate.. and important to her. Phi's white knuckle grip didn't falter until the servant stepped back and excused himself.
Clearing her throat, the duchess stood, poured boiling water onto a small plate, and dabbed her hands into it. Once the sanitizing water painted her fingers with an irritated hue of pink, Phi dried her hands on a clean napkin and began skillfully filling each infuser with her personalized blend. " I must admit, even with the missteps I've faced since arriving on campus.-" She couldn't help but smirk at the thought of her newest companion having been there both times she bled at this school, with his favored, recurring color scheme.. Or well, lack thereof. It would have been easy for the sight-deprived girl to mistake his large looming figure for an overgrown shadow. If only he hadn't had to deal with the repercussions of her actions the second time. "- It has failed to quail my optimism for the brighter future Utopia has offered us."
A brighter future. That was what sparked a fire in the deepest part of Ophelia's soul, what she found purpose in. There was not a single person who made it out of the war entirely unscathed. Everyone lost something. Land, limbs, loved ones, even themselves.. the heartbreaking list could go on forever. Fixing it could never settle on just her shoulders, everyone would need to put forth some effort. But every bone in this little body wanted to be part of the solution. She had an advantage to her disadvantage: more insight into the emotional turmoil people hid behind their masks. It was in her nature to heal things, even the unseen wounds that painted people's auras in such painful hues. She could do it... That was a possibility as long as she stayed out of Syena's path.
Grabbing the teapot once more, Ophelia hooked the finger of her free hand over the brim of a teacup and waited for the scalding steam to inform her it had been filled to the proper level. A sadness filtered through her gaze as she stared at the sangria color that bled through the swirling water as she poured. Her voice dropped to a soft whisper. " The war painted so many harsh, broken, bloody lines between kingdoms. My own included. It was hard for anyone to live in the color another kingdom could offer when all that was seen was the black and white provided by your own territory." With her finger screaming a burning warning, Phi set the pot back in place and offered one of the cups to Mr.Price. " Utopia will change that. Give us and our people the chance to heal. Maybe see things in a different light. Wouldn't you agree?"
The duchess would wait for Mr.Price to take the cup from her before finding her seat once more. Bringing her cup to her lips, she blew gently before pulling a slow sip into her mouth. The tart flavor of hibiscus hit her first, then settled into the sweet tang of floral lavender. Its calming heat seeped into every tight muscle that had formed since the door shut on Orby, pulling a sigh from her as she returned to her task of finding honey. Once located, she held out the jar for Mr.Price first. Bright warmth returned to her tone as she looked at the shadow-wrapped form across her with an excited smile. " Be careful, it's hot. And the tea will be a little tart, I think some honey will sweeten it up nicely if you would like to try it?" Mother sun she hoped he liked it.
OOC: FINALLY
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Posted: Wed Oct 23, 2024 2:24 pm
 LOCATION: Kieran's Room xxx COMPANY: Ophelia xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: The Man Who Sold The World
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
It was amusing to see just how skittish Ms. Akimi had become in the realm of darkness that was Kieran's quarters. The poor Deary seemed to have a level of uncertainty that was laced into every breath she took, and the longer she stayed, the worse it seemed to get. The sun-fearing damsel was quick to adjust her posture, prompting a raise of Kieran's brow as he watched the pitiful woman poorly attempt to compose herself. The sad sap looks like she could snap like a twig at the gentlest breeze. Deciding to give his hypothesis a test, he blew on his cupcake before taking another bite, pushing a gust of air out from his lips and towards the pink-haired woman sitting before him. It was a silly thing to do, but the prince of darkness needed to do something to cut through the boring monotony of Ms. Akimi's mouse act. It was amusing enough on its own at the start, but just moments in, it was already starting to become rather dull.
" Even with my limited perspective on things, I can assure you, It's not wholly one-sighted."
That, on the other hand, was unexpected. A delayed chuckle escaped the prince's lips as her words settled in. Now there was the leading lady he was looking for! The constant feelings of helplessness that radiated off her trembling form weren't without merit, but it was the fact that she had bite to her regardless of her fear that had really piqued his interest. That and the fact that they'd been so rudely interrupted just as they'd introduced themselves to one another, but vengeance on the silver-haired brute was a subject for another time. For now, he was delighted to see that Ms. Akimi still had some fight in her despite her non-corporeal bestie being nowhere to be found.
"Oh my~ You'd think I'd be able to have seen that one coming."
For a moment, it seemed as though the dreadful little lightbringer was going to deflate again. Were such meager acts of bravery really all that one of Alore's finest could offer him? Then again, that didn't surprise Kieran too much. They were a bunch of weak-willed cowards, after all, so Ms. Akimi's behavior really wasn't too surprising. It also went to show just how dependent the pink-haired damsel was on her luminescent companion, showing a side of herself even frailer than before.
Still, it would've been quite the disappointment if that had been the most fire she'd been able to muster. Fear and terror were all well and good, but without a bit of resilience, it was like eating fish and chips that had gone soggy. The taste might still be delectable, but the texture would be all wrong! Thankfully, his scene partner hadn't given up just yet. " Before I share my opinions, I would like to address one topic of importance. Ms.Akimi, is my mother. Please, I prefer friends call me Ophelia when it's just us. Or Phi if you favor nicknames," began the damsel, further elaborating the times she considered "Lady Ophelia" appropriate nomenclature.
It seems as though I may have given this mouse a little too much freedom in her cage.
But as he pondered further, this was still within the realm of acceptability. He'd call her anything she wanted for now, but when the time came to get into the real meat and potatoes of the play he'd scripted out for them, he'd use the character name listed on the page. In any case, she didn't stay the primary object of his annoyance for long as one of his servants barged in without a single knock on his door. The sniveling insect scurried about, having clearly figured out what they did was wrong by the icy glare Kieran gave them. Unfortunately, it was too late.
As he stared the fool down, a phantom tendril made its way to a side table by the doorway. There, it neatly fit into a keyhole and silently unlocked the door. First pulling out a pen and then a notebook with a lock of its own along with several sigils, the limb deftly wrote a note as its master stared into its intended reader's souls Kieran watched as the idiot shakily tried to help Ms. Akimi with her precious infusers. In another show of independence, the pink-haired damsel denied the servant's attempt to assist her in putting something in a cup, as if something as brainless as that could appease the prince of darkness after the stunt he'd pulled.
"That'll be all, my ever-faithful companion. Thank you so much for your assistance. Take care now."
Taking the hint, his servant hurriedly made his escape from Kieran's quarters only to have the tendril at the doorway snap around his ankle. Stopping in his tracks, the servant looked over to where a second tendril was pointing and stepped to the side table to read the note left for him. It read as follows:
Quote: If you ever come into my quarters without my express permission again, you will live to regret it. Assuming you live to begin with, that is. Oh, and do make sure to clean up after yourself if you haven't already. Messes are for the sloppy, and I don't have patience for sloppiness. Tootles (:
Being the positive example for his men that he rarely was, Kieran had his phantom limbs put the note and pen away, locked shut, before having the darkness recede back to whence it came. The special ink he kept in that pen would fade away shortly, and that would be that. The prince of darkness then put his full attention on Ms. Akimi, who began to speak on what she'd been faced with in her time at the school so far.
" I must admit, even with the missteps I've faced since arriving on campus— It has failed to quail my optimism for the brighter future Utopia has offered us."
"Offered on paper, perhaps."
Already did the damsel sound as though she were about to entertain Kieran with a motivational speech. If the poor Deary asks me to sing kumbayah by the end of this, I might not be able to hold back the urge to vomit anymore. As if to challenge his thought, MS. Akimi began cleaning off her hands with piping hot water as she readied herself for outting together her little concoction. Kieran had to hold back the urge to gag earlier than expected, perplexed and disgusted at how the damsel treated herself as if she were a peasant. Still, the prince of darkness steeled himself nonetheless as Ms. Akimi spoke further of her hopes for a brighter tomorrow. She also brought up a personal relation to the horrors of the war, which Kieran assumed to have something to do with her blindness. This brought a bit of excitement back, as he hoped to one day learn about the circumstances that ended in the loss of her vision so that he may one day use it against her in some way. And with a bleeding heart like Ms. Akimi's, he assumed that wouldn't be too hard at all.
Thinking back to his own time at Utopia so far, he had to say that he was overall unimpressed. Little had been done to assuage the student body's worries since the night of the explosion, or at least for the most part anyway. Just how did this idiotic woman keep such faith in this bastion of ineptitude after such a disastrous affair in regards to keeping the various royals safe? Then again, he had quite a bit of information that the damsel clearly lacked. Beyond even the fantastical events that left his subordinate's infantry in shambles, there were far darker dangers at play. Even he didn't know the full extent of the chaos Ms. Tonnerre had in mind, let alone the sisterhood of the traveling insanity that jingled around in her head.
And then there were his own plans, which weren't inherently malicious but would be rather dull to execute without an execution or two. When the right opportunity presented itself, he would make all the eyesores he'd met so far fear the night until their dying day. And for a select few, that day was not very far away at all. Kieran's avenues for new information were growing exponentially, and soon he'd have more than enough people unknowingly working towards his ultimate goal to get the job done before they even knew it. And once they did find out, it'd be far too late: the chains of mortality would hold him no longer. From then on, it'd be a simple waiting game, and despite being a rather impatient man, Kieran was nonetheless quite the determined one.
" Utopia will change that. Give us and our people the chance to heal. Maybe see things in a different light. Wouldn't you agree?"
"A different light indeed. Yes, I do believe that's quite possible."
A different light by virtue of unending night; yes, such a world truly was within the palm of Kieran's hand. It was a dying man's final request to the king-to-be that took his place, and he would oblige the final vengeance his former self wished upon the world with his last gasp. He wished for his successor to take everything from this world, just as the world had taken his everything away from him.
Taking the cup of miracle tea from the pink-haired damsel's frail hands before she dropped it on him, Kieran had to wonder what exactly drove this pea-brained mouse. Did Ms. Akimi have such convictions pushing her forward? Had whatever tragedy she referenced molded her into the blinding ray of false hope she was today? If so, that was rather unfortunate; it was unlikely she could ever be swayed from her path, and such a path would only end in heartache. Well, unfortunate for her and those who cared about her anyway. Kieran, on the other hand, was more than happy to bring about this damsel's ultimate doom. But to do so, he would pull more information from this delicate flower before plucked it out and stomped it flat.
" Be careful, it's hot. And the tea will be a little tart, I think some honey will sweeten it up nicely if you would like to try it?"
Once more did he blow to both cool down what he was to consume and to see if she shattered into a million pieces. Fortunately, she seemed to be less frail than her ideals, at the very least. Taking a sip without a care in the world for sweeteners, Kieran found the bitterness more enticing than whatever a spoonful of sugar would do to change this complex mix of leaves and spice. The prince of darkness had to admit that it seemed like his prospect for leading lady was good at one thing at least. Perhaps if he focused on the tea, he could soldier through her sweet-as-molasses nonsense just a little bit easier.
But honestly, did this woman really believe all the horse s**t she spewed out? Poor, poor Ophelia. Oh woe is Ophelia, who only wants peace. If there was even an ounce of truth in the silver-haired brute's words, Ms. Akimi wasn't nearly as innocent as she so desperately wanted to come across as being. Then again, from Kieran's experience, this was the gold standard of Aloran behavior; he almost pitied the little mouse for having been brought up in an institution that doomed her for failure. "Mother Sun" would offer her no protection when she needed her most; no deity would. The only forces that controlled this world were the laws of nature, and if man is to prevail, then it would be through conquering, not praying.
"You shouldn't undersell your knack for tea brewing, Ophelia. If your life in the upper class doesn't pan out, definitely consider running a cafe. You'd get rave reviews for certain, and I'd be sure to read every one aloud so that you knew every ounce of praise you'd surely get."
Taking one hand off of the teacup, he brought a small plate from the middle of the table and brought it to his corner before placing the cup atop it. Closing his eye for a moment, he took a whiff of the aroma from the tea before leaning back into his chair. Bring his arms over the back, he next looked on at Ms. Akimi with a curious look on his face. He needed to know more, so much more.
"Shall we exchange sorrows then? One eye for two isn't exactly a fair deal, but it's the best I can offer," he began before turning away from her. The look on his face was one of carefully calculated sorrow, one he knew to replicate well when he needed to show the world a Kieran Price that was ever so withered away from what he went through instead of the man who would never let such a tragedy befall him again.
"Of course...I would understand if you don't wish to share. Somethings are just to painful too bring up on a whim. You deserve your privacy, should you wish for it."
Since this mouse so clearly wished to play the role of caregiver, he'd let her live out her fantasy for a little while. It was only when she truly believed it—believed she made a difference with him, that he'd snatch that fairytail from her weak hands and burn it to a crisp. But first, he would offer a bit more honey to lure this busy bee in.
"Is there...something else you'd rather discuss, perhaps? How has it been with the classes so far? Have you found the curriculum worth your time? It seems a bit...unnecessary in some aspects, but perhaps that's simply another luxury I have that others, perhaps those more deserving than I, simply don't have at their disposal."
OOC:
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Posted: Sat Nov 02, 2024 10:42 pm
LOCATION: Kieran's room xxx COMPANY: Kieran xxx CLOTHING: Tea Timexxx THEME: It is What it is.
It was unsettling for Ophelia to sit in a room so tainted in black. Unable to appreciate Mr.Price's impeccable taste in furniture because the shadows of the space seemed to close in around her, forcefully pulling her back five years in time. This area made her feel like a child again, her sight newly ripped away. At least while in her homeland, light, and color were still abundant, something for her to grasp onto. But here in Mr.Price's suffocating quarters, it was like she was stuck in impending twilight, the colors of the day losing their saturation, edging her closer to true helplessness.
No, this was no time to deflate. Forcefully igniting a ray of defiance in her chest, Phi decided she wouldn't dwindle beneath this wretched 'childhood' fear. That timeline held no ownership of her now. She had already overcome it and fought tooth and nail to learn how to navigate. If there was one thing she learned in her acceptance, it was that finding things for her to control could make things more palatable for her. Luckily, she knew how to navigate her way around a tea set blindfolded. Pair that with easing queues she could cling to, like the slow chuckle her friend released after her teasing remark—comfort and confidence were quickly beginning to build in her spine.
"You shouldn't undersell your knack for tea brewing, Ophelia. If your life in the upper class doesn't pan out, definitely consider running a cafe. You'd get rave reviews for certain, and I'd be sure to read everyone aloud so that you knew every ounce of praise you'd surely get." The breath locked in her chest whooshed out of her. Boldness grew at the sound of his enjoyment paired with the use of her first name. It sent a blinding, toothy grin over her face.
Catching her laugh with one hand, she shooed away his compliments with the one still holding the honey. " You are such a darling. Please don't flatter me ." She teased, attempting to place the compliments to the side like the unwanted sweetener. At least he had good taste; it wasn't every day she found someone with a similar pallet to hers. Smothering her smile with another sip of tea, Ophelia chose not to dwell on the fact he'd yet to give her permission to drop formalities by allowing a small daydream of a cafe to flourish. Something all her own, that she could build from the ground up, control every detail down to the lid type for her containers; however, with her family's financial situation the chances were just as slim as its success would be.
" To be entirely truthful, I much prefer the intimacy that accompanies these types of encounters. I fear if I ran a cafe, I'd slip into the pitfall of trying to sell the different benefits of tea, and that would never bode well in my territory." She admitted, delicately placing her cup back on its saucer. " The use of herbs for anything outside of outstanding flavor is very taboo. Witchcraft, as my family would say. Highly frowned upon." Especially when illness was so rare in their closed-off part of Alore. As she explained, she offered a magical twiddle of her fingers as though the humbo jumbo might frighten her new companion. Though she could understand her family's displeasure with dabbling in the dark arts, anything that grew under the blessing of the mother sun could never be inherently wrong. Like everything in this world, it was how it was handled, how you reacted to it. Maybe she shared too much, though; surely other kingdoms had such strict rules. Right?
Her gaze trailed the tea prospect before her, immediately second-guessing her word choice. He looked like the type to dabble in witchcraft. Crap. It was a split-second decision, a choice to showcase her view on the suffocating rules to prove she wasn't as right-winged as she was so often expected to be. Reaching out, she plucked a lemon slice off a nearby cake and squeezed its juice into her cup, the vibrant red hue of hibiscus quickly snapping into a deep violet. One of the leaves she had mixed in was well known for aiding anxiety, which was magic all on its own, but the darkened change when citrus was added gave the drink the outwardly magical quality that was so frowned upon. This is the most minor example of free magic for all to enjoy, not just the result of any one kingdom's interference. And if she really thought about it, that was how she wanted the world to be: Magic shared and experienced by all.
"Shall we exchange sorrows then? One eye for two isn't exactly a fair deal, but it's the best I can offer,"
The question caught the duchess off guard, yanking her out of her worry as she snapped her gaze to Mr.Price. As though in an unintended answer to his question, the lemon slipped from her fingers so its plunge could echo through the silence. Yes, she fully expected to share their horrors at some point, but to learn what took his eye before even getting to call him by his first name? It felt... Wrong, invasive even. Then again, she wasn't opposed to being the first to open that door. If it was what he needed to feel comfortable sharing.
Before Ophelia could answer, he was backtracking to offer an out to the probing question. It seemed she wasn't the only one second-guessing her words today. "Of course...I would understand if you don't wish to share. Somethings are just to painful too bring up on a whim. You deserve your privacy, should you wish for it. Is there...something else you'd rather discuss, perhaps? How has it been with the classes so far? Have you found the curriculum worth your time? It seems a bit...unnecessary in some aspects, but perhaps that's simply another luxury I have that others, perhaps those more deserving than I, simply don't have at their disposal."
It was in his last remark that Ophelia pinned her first bold assumption of Mr.Price's stature. While it was safe to assume every student in Utopia held the title of Lord or Lady, there were a few who simply oozed the type of elegance that accompanied the life of an elite. "You're in the presence of a prince." Her mother's voice curled the warning at the back of her mind, setting her spine rigid again. So far, she'd come to face two types of royals.. Would Mr.Price's standards be closer aligned with Oliver and Alosa or someone as cutthroat as Syena? At first impression, he seemed so genuine and caring. But there were so many layers of emotion hidden beneath she was missing at this time. Without Orby to illuminate him, she was left to dig for answers at a snail's pace.
How would she know anything was true?
This sparked the idea. There was no point in denying herself the enjoyment of his company by being dissuaded with taking the slower route. There were other, fun avenues of learning. "There are plenty of topics to discuss. I am not against answering either of them. But.-" She hesitated at the idea of offering games to a prince but pushed through after finding distraction in keeping her hands busy. Plucking up the honey once more to drizzle it over her beignet, she focused on the task and laid out her offer. " With such dreary topics, why don't we add a little mystery to the spilling of our personal experiences? Have you ever heard of the game Two Truths and a Lie?" It was a child's game, an icebreaker meant to help people get to know each other; the twist was in how things were worded, whether or not you could trick the other person.
Since her ability to see emotions manifested, Phi held the world record for winning streaks in this game. Small shifts in colored emotions gave people away the moment a lie passed their lips. Now, with the shadowed companion across from her, she sat on an even playing field. " It's pretty self-explanatory; the catch is we can only delve deeper into topics if the other can manage to pinpoint the lie. I'll go first, Then you, and then we can guess and discuss. Sound good?"
Prepping herself for her most magnificent performance, Ophelia squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. Resting her elbow on the table, she held up her fist. Leveling Mr.Price with a mischievous grin, she extended her pointer finger. "It may be unsurprising and a little childish, but I favor dance class above all else. I'm quite good at paired and solo performances." Dancing never entirely relied on one's sight if their partner knew how to lead. It was the solo portion that may not meet everyone's standards, but Phi believed her performances were quite favorable.
There was hesitation as she mulled the wording for her following statement in her mouth. How could she put this? " My personal flavor of healing comes at a cost when not performed properly." Night healings were always dangerous for someone who relied on the sun, but not when she had Orby present.
Finally, she lifted her third. " In my territory, it is highly frowned upon to eat any prepared food before high noon." A bell chiming in the distance signified the time: High noon. Smiling, she delicately dropped her hand and grabbed a small fork beside her. Cutting through the prepared treat with ease, she brought it to her mouth and savored the sweetened flakes with a little excited shake of her shoulders. Chef Suzen really did know how to make the best beignets; she simply couldn't contain the little dance of pleasure from slipping through.
Quickly regaining her composure, Ophelia set the fork back in place and ran her thumb over her bottom lip to catch the small dollop of honey trapped there. Through hooded eyes, she returned her sights to the prince sitting across from her. "So Mr.Price. Think you'll be able to find my lie?" She teased lightheartedly.
OOC:
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