• Closed • [Lysoria] Please Look At Me

SISTERRRRR

Since the birth of the city, Ne'haer has struggled to maintain peace with the territories surrounding its borders. While some of the other territories work with Ne'haer in search of peace and protection in the region, others resist, determined to fight back against Ne'haer and what they perceive as an attempt of colonization. Ne'haer and the territories exist in a constant tug-of-war that threatens the very region.

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Hans
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[Lysoria] Please Look At Me

Wed Oct 18, 2017 3:11 am

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14 Vhalar 717
Lysoria


Hans sat at the large oak table and sipped his wine slowly, careful not to look Lord Stefan in the eye. They knew him well by now, and could read his moods, even without the magic that ran through his veins. And they would see his nerves. Even now, Hans could not stop his right leg from bouncing under the table as he waited nervously.

For all his efforts to avoid eye contact, though, Hans could not hide everything from his Lord. "You are nervous," said Stefan Amielle, a soft smirk on his lips as he too took a leisurely sip of his wine, looking over at Hans with raised eyebrows. Hans immediately forced his leg to stop jerking.

"I'm not," he snapped, and the tension in his voice would have been considered rude, had Hans not worked closely with Stefan for many arcs. He sighed, placing the wine down, and ran a hair through his hair. "I'm sorry, my Lord, I did not mean to snap. It's just--"

"Been seasons since you've seen her?" Stefan finished his sentence amusedly. Hans felt a pang through his chest at those words. Yes, they were true, but he was not about to admit that.

"No, my Lord. I was going to say that the tensions of the Western Region have been getting to me, and with our meeting with Ironridge approaching..." Stefan nodded sagely, but a slight smile played on his lips nonetheless, knowing Hans was avoiding the true issue.

"Ah yes. Of course. That must be the only thing bothering you," Stefan said, a twinkle in his eye. Hans opened his mouth to retort, but the door to the room finally opened, and without missing a beat, Hans shot up, vacating his seat with respect for the Lady.

Lorelai swanned in, dressed immaculately in blue silk, and Hans stepped forward, bowing his head, and clasping her hand gently. "My Lady," he murmured. Lorelai brought a hand to his cheek and smiled. "My dear," she said, with all the familiarity of one who had known the Maskarin family for many years. Lorelai was soft in private, but hard as steel when she needed to be.

Hans stepped aside, allowing Lorelai to move forward and greet her husband, and as Lorelai Amielle moved forward, there she was.

His sister.
Due to his Competency in Empathy, Hans can 'taste' emotions.

While these tastes always stay the same, Hans is either repulsed or attracted
to certain tastes due to his own current emotional states.

While happiness might be delicious to him at one time, this could be disgusting to him
if he is in a troubled personal state.
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Elaine Maskarin
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Please Look At Me

Thu Oct 19, 2017 11:18 pm

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”Blue suits you, my Lady.” There was honey in her words, but the lilt in her voice was something genuine. Elaine Maskarin did not need to blandish words for Lorelai, if not because the Lady of Lysoria was just as elegant as she told it, but because there was an amiable familiarity between them. A comfortable closeness that was only consequence of arcs in each other’s company, and a familial relationship for decades prior to that.

Elaine watched her from the mirror, and Lorelai showed fondness in her smile. The last pin was fastened to her hair and she dismissed the vanity mirror, gliding to the spot where Elaine stood. ”You’re wearing rouge.” Was her reply. She was surprised.

If Elaine hadn’t already had color on her cheeks, she might have revealed how uneasy this statement made her. ”Yes.” Her hands were suspended in awkwardness then, neither committed to resting flat at her sides or hovering restlessly at her chest. So Lorelai chose for her, pulling the woman’s hands into her own, and holding them firmly until they found stillness. Elaine was readying her voice again, in order to spit out an excuse. She did not usually wear rouge, but she was just so moved by the cosmetics from Fashion Week that she would adopt the trend. It was a lie, but that is what she would say to the Lady. But Lorelai did not press further.

She would only squeeze Elaine's hands a little tighter and soften her expression. It was a light smile, a knowing smile. And it was as if in that moment Elaine could not keep anything from her Lady, as if Lorelei saw right through the Maskarin woman, straight to her anxious, proud core. Elaine’s mother had told her once that women didn’t powder blush their cheeks unless they were wooing for marriage or trying to impress someone. And while Elaine was vastly ill-suited to accept any proposal of sorts, thus far, Claire Maskarin had not been wrong.

Elaine changed the subject. "Bayward could prove to be valuable." Lorelai released her hands, and Elaine would be grateful that the Amielle woman did not resist the brash change in conversation. A public civic alliance with the pirate oligarchy would be a bold statement to the region, and while Elaine could recognize the risk in this affiliation, she could not bring herself to keep her position on the matter private.

"This is no place for such matters Elaine, come." And with that, Lorelai Amielle was swept away with intention, Elaine shuffling behind her.

The door swung open and Lorelai entered first, Elaine following in the woman's wake. The meeting room was a spacious, airy space, with a large oak table in the center and plenty of natural light. Elaine's shoulders rolled backward and down as she entered, but there was a tightness in her throat. The open space of the solarium usually fed the woman's wild spirit, but she would not find comfort as she stepped into the room this trial. The height of the walls felt endless and daunting, and Elaine's spine would straighten just a little taller to compensate.

He could hear him stand first. She could always tell when her father walked into a room, with purposeful, wide strides. Terrence Maskarin was a man of duty and sharp professionalism, and it was apparent in the aggressive sound of his footfalls. It was not until Hans had found his 16th arc or so when that changed, and she stopped being able to tell the sound of their steps apart.

Lorelai would serve as a shield from those steps for a time, until they parted and the Maskarin children were left facing each other. Her body fought against finding his gaze, despite the woman's pride willing it so. But eventually, she would find them. Brown, familiar eyes.

And suddenly she was twelve, standing in her father's study and looking up into those same brown, familiar eyes. "Will I know when you do it?" She'd ask her brother, and she would not dare look away, attentions only on Hans, and his brown eyes. She would wear a broad grin this time in the study, but she would not wear it again.

She would have gasped if she had not swallowed it first. Her eyes flicked downward then, losing her propriety with an unfortunate act of submission. Her gaze remained directed at the floor as she tracked across the hall to the table. His eyes may have been familiar once, but once was a long time ago.

She met Stefan at his place at the table, curtsying deeply and pressing cheeks in greeting. She was pulling her own chair from the table when she saw it. It was like a flicker in the corner of her eye, and a feeling as if there was something just out of sight. It nagged at her, taunting and teasing. Elaine motioned to catch it with a brisk turn of her head, but nothing was there.

Lorelei would break the silence. "Shall we begin then?"
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Hans
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Please Look At Me

Tue Oct 24, 2017 2:13 am

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Her eyes caught his, briefly, and it set a pounding of anxiety through his chest. But just as quickly as she met his gaze, she looked away, down to the floor. Her cheeks were red as Hans drunk the sight of her in, staring uselessly at her for a trill. Eventually, he flushed, opening his mouth to say something, but she had already turned away and sat beside her lady. Hans' cheeks matched Elaine's, though with embarrassment.

Catching Stefan's eye and his raised brow, Hans scowled and said nothing, taking his seat. He folded his hands in front of him on the table, before looking up and noticing with a shock that she was sitting right across from him. There would be no avoiding her. With her gaze steadfastly fixed elsewhere, he drunk his sister in. She was thinner than she had been, paler, too. If it weren't for the make up, Hans would have seen the dark circles under her eyes, but instead he just saw what she wanted him to: a lady, in possession of himself.

It was Lorelai's soft but steel words that broke him from his reverie, and his eyes snapped to her, nodding in respect to his Lady. "Of course," he murmured. "My apologies." He could see from his periphery the amused smirk of Stefan, but Lady Lorelai began to speak and he did not have time to dwell on it. Even as Lorelai spoke, he could not help but be distracted by the presence opposite him.

"The raids have been increasing along the coastline," Lorelai began. Here, in this room, she spoke first and was not interrupted - the brains of Lysoria.
Stefan sat back, and watched his wife speak with an appreciative and attentive look on his face. "This is good for us. Ne'haer has had to dispatch their navy to deal with them, to help the weaker villages. It means their eyes are not on us."

"All the better," murmured Stefan. Lorelai looked to her husband with a smile. "Indeed," she said, smirking. "They cannot stretch their arm at sea and inland at the same time. But it is not, I think, the time to strike." Stefan opened his mouth as if to speak, but she held his hand. "Hans, what can you report to us of Ne'haer?"

Hans jolted his gaze from his sister, flushing. "My Lady," he said, collecting himself. Stop looking at her, he scolded internally. "Many of the Zafran forces have been dispatched onto the ships. Their inland forces are lessening, as they need the Blades to combat the raids once they make landfall. It would be a time to strike, if you wished it," he said, bowing his head.

Lorelai leaned back in her chair, nodding to herself. "That is true," she murmured, looking to her husband. "What do you think, Stefan?" Stefan leaned forward, grinning. "As much as I would love to strike Ne'haer down now, we need Ironridge," he said. Hans thought. That was true. They needed the force, lest the battle go ill.

"I agree with Lord Amielle," he said, slowly. Even with his sister here, he had work to do. "Our alliance would grow weak if we attacked and won, for we would be taking the glory without them. And if we lost, well..." He trailed off. If Lysoria lost, all our work would be for naught, he thought.

"Very well. But I do believe Elaine mentioned another possible avenue to me earlier, one that we have not explored. Elaine?" Lorelai turned to her advisor expectantly. Hans flushed, keeping his gaze on the table. If he could, thought Hans, Stefan would laugh aloud at me right now.
Due to his Competency in Empathy, Hans can 'taste' emotions.

While these tastes always stay the same, Hans is either repulsed or attracted
to certain tastes due to his own current emotional states.

While happiness might be delicious to him at one time, this could be disgusting to him
if he is in a troubled personal state.
User avatar
Elaine Maskarin
Approved Character
Posts: 27
Joined: Tue Oct 10, 2017 4:04 am
Race: Human
Profession: Advisor
Renown: 0
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Please Look At Me

Sat Jan 13, 2018 5:00 am

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The chair was cold, and it was hard. And despite her position on top of the chair, she could not help but feel as if it was the wood itself that was doing the sitting. As if the laws of gravity and the world had taken opposites, the wood bearing it’s weight on her instead of the other way around. It was uncomfortable, and it was heavy. Elaine shifted to opposite hip, fixing her skirts so that they spilled back around her. She smoothed a fold in the fabric, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She would look busy and well-kept to those that might not understand her, anxious to those who did. And who would else to better understand her than —

Her gaze drifted across the table, only stopping short at his mouth before retreating. She would not catch Hans’ eyes again. She would not make that mistake twice. Another shift to opposite hip, because the first had already grown tired. She did not remember the chairs being this hard, just as she did not remember her petticoat fitting so poorly. Perhaps her memory evaded her. Perhaps she had just grown thin.

Lorelai’s voice was a relief to more than one in the room. Elaine's lips parted to speak, but was interrupted by his voice. A deep, familiar voice. She cut her eye across the table, passing her only brother an acrid expression, but it was gone just as soon as her brain could process it. Instead, her attentions moved to Stefan. He was a welcomed distraction, with all the sparkle and adoration in his eye. Elaine would not tire of the way Stefan looked at his wife, just as she would not tire of many things. And As Lorelai talked of raids and navies, Elaine wondered if a man might sparkle at her like that. If a man might —

It curled around the very edge of her periphery. Crawling. Stalking. Biding it’s time as it did. She ignored it. Green was not her color.

Lorelai silenced her husband with a polite hand. She was a proper woman, the Lady Lorelei was. And hard as steel. Hans was speaking but the syllables seemed to collide and run into one another, Elaine unable or unwilling to really make sense of them as that darkness edged just within her line of vision. And just like her evading glance toward her brother, Elaine would look the other way, far, far away from the shadow. Green. It was not her color, and she would push envy down and away.

She would remain present.

”Yes.” She cleared her throat, buying time to find her voice. If she had not recognized it before, it was well apparent now. The gentle smirk on Stefan’s face as Hans turned a deeper shade. Lorelai’s expectant, even expression, despite the way she cupped Elaine’s hands in hers just moments prior. There were no secrets in the solarium this trial. A light blanketing of politics would not hide that.

”We need Ironridge.” She echoed, nodding to Stefan. That point was certain. ”But Ne’haer will likely expect Irondridge to come to our aid when the time comes.” She paused, if not to cherry pick her next words than for theatrics. ”And they will, if the ambassador can sway them to our favor.” She addressed her brother by title, but she would still refuse to look at him.

Stefan straightened in his seat. ”Lord Lokhert is proud but he is fair. And they have the numbers.”

Elaine was unsure if Stefan simply did not pick up on the slight toward her brother, or if he was that sure of Ironridge’s support. Either way… ”A civic alliance with Bayward would be a bold statement to the region.” Perhaps a stupid one, but Elaine would not voice that outwardly. ”We would be positioned to the North and the South. And with Ironridge’s numbers…” Elaine had trailed off when she realized she was now looking into Hans’ eyes seeking something… Approval.

”I —“ She blinked, scrambling to find her propriety. ”I would not be surprised if Cycres and Treth folded immediately. Millstone perhaps, shortly after that. I have heard whispers. The people, they are afraid of him.” Him, being the man they called Crux Dregoon.
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