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Post by empyre on Jan 9, 2017 18:22:01 GMT -6
Regina || Pit Fighter
"She's a killer....queen" "I do have training to do, a son to care for, and a household to look after while my master is...otherwise occupied." Regina shot back to Isador's assumption that she had time for all this nonsense. It also didn't escape her notice that he had hardly answered her question at all, just spewed more vague bullshit. She was sure her teeth would be worn down to the jaw by the time she could go home if this Secret Meeting didn't become Isador's Sharing Hour within the next five minutes.
She fell to silence as others took their turns to speak, talking of changes and making Aodh greater, and keeping the other herds in their places. It all sounded very...revolutionary. Is that what it was then? Did Isador want power, want to overthrow the throne even? Regina swung her head back around to study the grey stallion with searching emerald eyes, but her attention was pulled away by the small slave colt's voice.
If she didn't have a soft spot for colts she probably would have rolled her eyes at him, but instead she merely huffed to herself. If these servile slaves were so damn afraid of speaking up, why bother? Even so the child had a point, as poorly executed as it was,
"What sort of changes are you referring to, then?" She asked, raising a brow at Isador, "Surely you would have brought these ideas before the king rather than a group a strangers? Unless his ignorance is vital."
~~~
Post 3 || 252 words |
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Post by Jennycallie on Jan 11, 2017 18:19:56 GMT -6
Isador | Adviser
The stones were finally moving. Isador would have liked to think rather that the sparks were igniting, but, no. No, they weren’t there quite yet… but maybe soon. Although Isador maintained his neutral expression, his ears perked slightly at Caspian’s words, and the Adviser fought the urge to smile. He dipped his head once, minutely, in acknowledgement of the words, even as his attention moved onwards, to the others as they too began to reply to his words.
“We are weakened, but not entirely weak.” This, and from a commoner. Isador nodded again, more gravely. He did not immediately answer Hawthorne’s question though, eyes cutting instead to Umbra. The slave was clearly terrified, but kept a respectful tongue in his head and, emboldened enough to at least speak. He noted Regina too eyeing the little slave, and was mildly interested that the pit slave seemed less… harsh, at least momentarily, towards Umbra. Before of course turning her sharp eyes and sharper tongue back on Isador, who merely flicked his tail again.
“Correct,” he said simply, in reply to the mare. He let the word fall into the silent room, solitary and unsoftened by accompanying words. He was still, though his blue eyes glittered, almost flickering as if with fire, as he turned back to Umbra.
“The Serorans do not hate us, child,” he said quietly. “They abhor our way of life, perhaps, grubbing about as they do in their sand and assurances that they are all equal, elevated above the other herds in their,” his voice turned faintly mocking, “compassion.” The Adviser shook his head. “Such compassion which lets them live like beggars, lets their own children go hungry for the sake of thieving vagabonds…” Isador snorted once, delicately. “Such practices are what drove them to such extremes, that they were forced to seek our aid, the aid of glorious Aodh which was generously given. But though Serora may not hate us, they certainly hold us in jealous contempt, and at the first chance they got, they broke their agreement with us.” His voice, though quiet, had hardened.
“No, they do not hate us; they laugh at us. They spit in the face of our aid, of our King, for they have seen that we are weakened, that he is weak. And something must be done- because this will not end with one broken agreement, or with only Serora. What if our long-standing ally Onea should decide to no longer align themselves with a weakened nation, ruled by an ignorant child? And what if Breim, already wary of us, suspecting subterfuge from the disastrous events of the King’s last visit, should throw in its might-and technology- with Serora?” Isador threw his head up again, so that his face obscured the portrait of Ignacio, framing the grey stallion with Ignacio’s branching antlers.
“Something must be done, and so I look to you all, my fellow Aodhians, Aodhians regardless of rank or breeding, to help me do it.” He paused again, and the entire room was still, heavy and crackling with power. “We must make Aodh strong again, and Aodh can never be strong so long as we are lead by a child. We must do what is right for our nation, for our god, before it is too late. We need a new King.”
The very room seemed to vibrate with the words, as if they continued to echo, to bounce around the room long past when they’d fallen from Isador’s lips. His blazing eyes swept the room, settled heavily on the two pit fighters, Regina and Illidis, so different and yet so similar as well.
“Are you with me?” He asked the group, eyes still lingering on the silent Illidis.
Post 3 | 627 words
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Post by Moose-On-Ice on Jan 11, 2017 22:03:05 GMT -6
Illidis | Pit Slave
"In the end what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No, a man chooses, and a slave obeys."
-Andrew Ryan, Bioshock
Illidis merely listened to everyone else in silence. He had nothing to add. It wasn't his place. Among other nobles, their slaves, even the commoners here were higher ranked then him. The arrival of the adviser got his emerald gaze to rise for a brief moment, yet he returned it to the ground just as quickly.
The topic-- the future of aodh-- made him pause and frown inwardly. What did Isador mean by that? A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. He'd heard rumors. He had hunches. The state of things, the events with the Crucible, Briem, and Seora... The thought of the catastrophy in Briem made his shoulder ache where the scars from a rampaging pygmy dragon crossed his skin in harsh lines. He shifted his weight to his other leg, listening in rapt attention.
The almost manipulative tone he spoke to the others in made Illidis fearfully shiver. He sounded so, so much like Sagan right now... He was striking a deal. Trying to cause some reaction that only gave him gain, and the rest, punishment and pain. Illidis shifted uneasily, moving back a bit to hide a bit more behind Luciano. This was not good.
Isador was growing more and more commanding, his words sweet like honey, especially to those who may be upset with the state of things. The soft, scared reply from another slave brought Illidis's concerns to light. Thankfully. And his ears swiveled forward to listen.
Oh no. He was right. Isador was trying to start something. Something bad. He didn't want the king to know. This... This... Fear swirled in his chest, cold and icy. Isador's words only grew stronger, striking fear into Illidis. He raised his head, eyes wide as he stared at the adviser. The portrait of Ignacio loomed above the adviser, and to Illidis, he seemed to grow, hulking, massive, deadly powerful... Terrifying...
And Illidis felt so very small. He held his breath as the Adviser's last words echoed around the room. And then Isador's gaze landed on him, while his own gaze was up. The eye contact made Illidis jump. He felt sick. He wanted to scramble back, hide behind Luciano like a young colt. His tongue caught in his mouth, his emerald gaze not moving from Isador's.
A new king. He wanted to get rid of the King. But... He was young. He made mistakes, yes, but he would learn. And he hadn't wanted this to happen. He didn't want the Crucible incident to happen. Nor the deal with the dragons in Briem.
"I...I..." Illidis stammered for a few moments. His legs felt weak. And then an ember lit within him. Yet not the one Isador wanted to light. "...I'm not." He said softly at first, afraid to be struck for it. But he knew this wasn't right. He lifted his head a bit higher, continuing to hold gazes with Isador. "I-I am not with you." He said more firmly, making his voice louder although he stammered and his voice cracked some.
The embers of freedom, of independence, flickered in his mind. He couldn't blindly follow this. He couldn't. It was not just, nor right.
~~~
Word Count: 531 Words; Post 4
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Post by MapleEgg on Jan 12, 2017 11:38:24 GMT -6
 Caspian of Cygnus | Lord | Aodh
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"To banish imperfection is to destroy expression, to check exertion, to paralyze vitality." - John Ruskin
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Caspian watched the child as it spoke and bubbled inside with warmth as Umbra caught the formalities. They would learn well, he thought to himself as he let him have his moment. Then Umbra's eyes were on him apologizing. Bending his head he spoke to the young horse.
"You are fine dear heart, you were ordered here too. You have a right to speak."
Caspian whispered softly as the mare with bad manners spoke up again. He willed himself not to roll his eyes as he looked at her and saw about the same thoughts crossing her own mind. He didn't like her, but then again this was a stressful time and by their own words they had other places to be. Straightening up as she finished, Caspian found his eyes going back to the adviser. His heart thud in his thick chest harder than he thought it would be for this moment. He had a feeling where this was going. There had been whispers and rumors and words being passed all over the glorious Aodh. Isador then cemented them as quick as a jack rabbit with just a small crisp line that caused Caspian to shudder.
"We need a new king"
Immediately Cas held the strength of the kingdom in his heart for his king. Nobles were supposed to be loyal and stand by their leader but in that moment doubt flapped an experimental wing in him. He thought about all the chaos that had recently transpired and his heart began to crack like old clay. The king was simply so young and sheltered. How could he lead Aodh, his doubt murmured in his ear. His purple eyes found another pit slave who was just about as shaken as he but refused to align with the adviser. Caspian felt proud and yet disappointed. Such conflicting feeling began to fight in Caspian but as the lord he was raised to be he looked back to the adviser. They needed more to go on than just one world changing line.
"Isador, sir, I know we are all unhappy with how things have gone on with other herds as well as in our own... But is this wise? Is there an alternative such as a ruling regent we can somehow place in while King Amadeus is trained to be more of a leader?" Inside he wondered if the kind hearted king would ever have the steel in his back to really be the king they needed at times. Looking over the horses in the room with his amethyst eyes his feelings flickered constantly in his gut. "or...." He looked at his young slave he had bought for his niece and the same steel he had just thought of slide into his stomach. His family came first... Would Amadeus protect him and his family, or would he bring the downfall of the Cygnus family as well as all the other noble houses? He couldn't bear the thought. "or if that is not an option, Isador, who will rule if not Amadeus? These are all things I... We, should have knowledge of before we leap off the cliff you've laid before us"
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Word Count : 530
Post # 3
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Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2017 20:53:44 GMT -6
His ears trained on each participant as they spoke, though he didnt find himself really listening to what they had to say. Instead, his attention was focused on Isador, his eyes narrowed on the other stallion's calm form as he stood before the elegant painting of the fire god. He was trying to read his mind, get inside his head, figure out something, but he found himself drawing a blank. This was suspicious, it was all suspicious, and claiming Ragnarok's business was not booming had allowed a small smirk to crawl across his lips. Oh, if only the silly stallion before him knew. His casino was more than just a casino. Just because the rest of Aodh was in a frenzy didnt mean the criminals on the streets decided to take a break.
He chuckled softly to himself, rolling his eyes. Whatever you say.
It was then that the adviser continued to speak about change did Ragnarok pull his attention back, his scarred lips pressing together in thought. There was nothing he hated more than the over romanticized "boy king." He made mistakes, and people praised him, joking that, hey, everyone made mistakes! Right?
His gaze suddenly turned cold and snapped in the direction of the painted slave as he refused to stand against the child, his eyes narrowing to near slits and flashing with irritation. "So you're okay with your life being in the hands of a suckling colt?" He snapped. "No wonder you're a slave. You're a damn fool. He should have been dethroned after his mistake with the Breim nation. There is no margin for error when you're overseeing the lives of thousands."
His gaze shifted over Caspian as he spoke, letting out a snort of irritation. And now this guy was trying to be smart? "Training Amadeus is out of the question. He's been spoon fed enough. He will not take it seriously." His attention shifted back to Isador, his eyes locking on his.
"I am with you, but Pretty Boy's question still stands. I am curious about your plan if you were to continue.. who would take over, and how do you know we would trust them? What if they're just as bad?" |
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Jan 14, 2017 14:30:41 GMT -6
.V I O N A .Servile Slave
The room hummed softly after she had finished her piece, and she took note of the way that Isador had glanced in her direction.. Had caught her eye. She dipped her head as others began speaking, breaking the chain. "You spoke very well Viona." came her master's voice in her ear, quiet and yet holding enough praise to make the roan mare tremble with the volume. "I'm pleased to know that, m'lord." she gazed at him sidelong, offering a shy smile. She'd been with him for little more than a year but in that span of time she'd come to truly enjoy the stallions presence in her life. Though she had never known masters like him before she had come to respect and admire him for his strength and his patience. Of couse, she'd never been on the receiving end of his other half; she'd seen his fury before, and nothing but the wrath of Ignacio scared her more than the anger of the stallion standing beside her.
In that moment he was calm, collected, listening.. And Viona followed suit. Voices chimed and the energy rose to a heavy crescendo as Isador responded to the questions and challenging thoughts that had been thrown at him.. The topic of Serora was one that the slave mare had little information on and thus could not make a very adequate judgement on them or what the Advisor Isador had to say about the sand dwelling children of Alya. The foul taste in her mouth still came though.. She felt bitter- angry even.. But she couldn't imagine why other than the fact that Isador's words were getting to her. Viona cocked a hoof against the stone floor, ears laid back against her neck as her brow creased in concern with the turn of the conversation. With a heavy heart Viona realized that she'd been sorely correct in her wanderings before.. Isador, with all the seriousness and authority of the societal chess piece he was, said "We need a new King".
And the room went silent. Silent aside from the slow intake's of breath- a collective inhale as the hush of voices raised the tension in the grand hall.
It was a slave, like herself, that spoke first. And it was the pearl-thief that berated the scarred fellow for being so openly a coward.. How petty- and yet true.
Viona knew better than attempt rebuttal on the stallion once more- she had been raised better than to interject where she was most definitely unwanted, where it might cause her trouble. Instead she looked back to her master, eyes swimming with a distant worry. Her feelings about the Boy King were ones of pity. It was not his choice to become King, being the only heir after his elder siblings were assassinated. Everyone knew that Solaris herself would have continued to rule until her son was capable but alas death had taken her early as well. The colt had the weight of Ignacio's nation upon his shoulders, and even though he may have been- still could be- a great king given the time... Viona knew in her heart that Isador was right. They'd run out of time, and mistakes had been made. Things had to change.. For the betterment of Eithne. For Valore.
But who would take the crown?
|Post| 4
|WC| 538
|Notes| Sorry, had to do this one quick. ;u; |
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Post by astrumnauta on Jan 15, 2017 16:56:13 GMT -6
Hawthorne
| Aodh Commoner | Post Six |
"We need a new king...Are you with me?"
Isadors bold statement rang through her head and she looked at him, the surprise flickered across her face and disappeared just as quickly. It made logical sense to get rid of the young king, but he was just that - a king.
It would be treason to be rid of him, they could be sentenced to death surely. Why was Isador instigating this, would he take blame if something went drastically wrong? Hawthorne doubted that highly.
Her ear twitched to the Pit slave, Illidis. She considered the stallion brave for what it was worth, very brave indeed. It took guts to stand up to Isador and she looked towards him. The stammering didn't help but she doubted that he would have spoken up much for himself and to someone this high up.
She watched Illidis for a moment longer, until Caspian spoke up and her head turned to the stallion.
"Who will rule if not Amadeus"
That was a question she would too, like answered, and she looked towards Isador for an answer, and flicked an inquisitive ear towards him.
Rags then spoke up and in his rough and ready way called the Pit slave a fool, which made her skin crawl and she had to restrain herself from telling Ragnarok to stop being a total ass and to keep his opinion of others to himself. She shot him a pointed look of annoyance and snorted,
Hawthorne then looked back to Isador once more her stare fixed and eyes narrowed slightly, both ears flickering towards the stallion and she stepped forwards to speak to him, her voice was sharp but respectful.
"Say we take down the boy king with you, I would also like to know who would take over and if some how the plan went belly up would we be protected or would we be expected to lose our lives for you? I would require some sort of safety net, to show that we will not die for your instigation of this...removal."
She raised her chin slightly waiting for the hoity-toity stallions response, and she wondered if she could believe all that he said, part of her didn't trust him at all, but one bit.
But she wanted to believe him because of his station, and his power. She did wonder if he would suggest putting himself into power, the idea would be stupid and then she would definitely walk out right there and then, but if he wasn't suggesting himself, just who would he put in power?
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Jan 15, 2017 17:36:02 GMT -6
Umbra | Servile Slave | AodhUmbra gave a small smile to his master. He was glad Lord Caspian approved of him speaking up. His old owner likely would have bit his ear for doing such a thing, especially in the presence of so many higher-ups. But, no blow came to the colt.
Shock rank through Umbra as Isador's words sank in. He was saying that Amadeus had no right to rule. Very soon after, another slave spoke up to say Isador was wrong. Umbra wasn't sure he should admit such a thing, but he did agree heavily with Illidis. He began plotting out what to say in his thoughts, when Caspian gave his agreement to the thought Isador had.
Umbra's chest felt tight and he was sure that with a new king, his whole life would come crashing down. There were so many possibilities for bad things to happen to him and any other slaves. What if the next king was more cruel? What if the next king was worse than Amadeus in their eyes? Wouldn't that mean the same treason would be made again to right their initial wrong-doing?
"I-I don't see what's wrong with a young king..." He muttered under his breath. Umbra sighed before he gazed up at Isador once again. "If children can be slaves, if they can take on other roles full-grown adults do, if they can still learn, why can't the king? An older horse could make mistakes too. And it wasn't his fault that the dragons attacked! Or the vagabonds, either. Now he knows not to do it." Umbra was certain that he would be reprimanded for this, even if it wasn't Caspian who did so. He was pretty sure that big bully of horse with the scarf on would probably yell at him.
Umbra frowned at the way they spoke of Amadeus being overthrown. It sounded as though they meant to kill him. "A-and, how are you going to get rid of him anyways? You can't kill him just cause he's learning and I don't know how you'd get rid of him any other way either. This whole idea is..." He wanted to say dumb, but that would certainly anger some of them. So he held his tongue from saying the final word. Umbra then retreated to hiding beside Caspian's flank once again.
Word Count: 386
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Post by Moose-On-Ice on Jan 17, 2017 16:20:48 GMT -6
Illidis | Pit Slave
"In the end what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No, a man chooses, and a slave obeys."
-Andrew Ryan, Bioshock
"No wonder you're a slave. You're a damn fool."
Illidis flinched at the spiteful words, but for once, for once in his life, he refused to back down. His gaze wandered to Luciano for a brief moment before he looked back at the rest of the equines in the room. His mouth felt dry and he swallowed thickly. The voices of each of them rang out. And he was appalled. Most of them agreed, and wanted to know the plan. The only one he agreed with was another slave, a colt.
He had been a slave all his life, since he was a child. He'd been taught how to behave, and of course there were slip ups. Children can be in the lowest of the low positions, and the highest of the high. Regardless, they need teaching, and a margin for error.
His gaze again darted to the young slave speaking, and bit his tongue when he cut off. "Dumb." He spoke out, forcing his voice to be strong while finishing the young slave's sentence. "T...This whole thing is dumb." The embers flared, sparks flying up. "He is a child. You all are daring to THINK of killing a child. If not killing, then what? Locking him away so he has no influence, no power? Is that better? I know what it's like to be locked away, I know what it's like to have control ripped from you and to spiral down, falling, and hitting rock bottom. I know what it's like to be isolated and alone. You all, you nobles, higher ups, you do not know what it's like to have everyone turned against you like this. And you want to force a child to go through with this." His stomach felt sick as he spoke. He wanted to stop, he wanted to just retreat behind Luciano. But they would not stop. His words might not even change things, he was a slave, what did his opinion matter?
But he wanted to try.
"Slaves are born into this lifestyle. We know how to live with it, we accept it. We know how to live at rock bottom. But he will not. He cannot do it. You cannot lock him away to take control. You cannot kill him." He said, hesitantly turning his gaze to Isador. "...Who would rule in King Amadeus's place? Master, please excuse me for speaking my mind," he said to Luciano, his voice growing stronger as he continued speaking, his head rising up, "but I have the thought in my mind that Adviser Isador will say he will take the throne." The adviser was ambitious. He was the one trying to start this... This... Coup. And there were no other members of the royal line who could rule, and no one here of high status that could assume that position. Isador was trying to use them for his own gain, Illidis was certain of it.
~~~
Word Count: 477 words; Post 5
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Post by Jennycallie on Jan 19, 2017 15:53:56 GMT -6
Isador | Adviser
The grey stallion stood quietly, only his sharp gaze tracking the uproar that had followed his words. The reactions were, in general, going as expected, but with a volatile topic and a mixed group, there were always bound to be surprises. Caspian, certainly, was no surprise: a true Aodhian Noble, one who wished the best and brightest for his country. A study in contrast was brutish Ragnarok, but he too was able to see the pitfalls of their current society. Between the two opposites was cautious Hawthorne, a bit timid perhaps, but self preservation was a tenet of survival in Eithne.
Only the slaves, it seemed, were truly resistant. Isador was a bit surprised, but then, they were slaves for a reason. Regina, at least, seemed tacitly in agreement with Isador’s vision of a dethroned Amadeus, but Umbra fairly reeked of fear, and Illidis… Well, now. Isador lifted a brow as the pit fighter picked up steam, fire creeping into the paint’s eyes and words as he forgot to be meek and mild. Isador hadn’t realized the stallion had a spine, and was encouraged by it, even if the slave was flying off the handle and in quite the wrong direction. Indulgently, the Adviser waited the torrent out, then paused a moment longer, making sure the silence was complete, as if to say, are you quite done?
“You,” Isador said mildly, his eyes including Umbra, “are the only ones speaking of killing anyone. I simply said that we need a new leader to assume control, not that we should slit the throat of the current one.” He frowned slightly, disappointed at them, as if a teacher whose students had leaped to the wrong conclusion. “But you are right, Illidis, he is a child. He should not be locked away anymore than he should be leading a country. I hardly think a peaceful abdication of his throne, to then resume the leisurely life of a royal Noble in the Palace, constitutes as “rock bottom”.” His eyes moved back to Umbra.
“It was his fault, what happened at Breim. He was advised against bringing the creatures, but as only a wilfull Noble child can, he insisted his course of action was the best and I and the other Advisers could do little to stop him, to disastrous results.” Isador shook his head once, regret tinging his words. He turned his gaze to the rest of the group.
“I have no set plan yet; indeed, you are my 'plan', you, the equines that make up our herd. I want your thoughts, your worries, your insights. I may be a Noble and Adviser, but it is you who make Aodh what it is.” He paused, decided to continue.
“My ideal plan would be for the people of Valore, at least, to petition for the King’s peaceful,” and he stressed the word, “abdication of the throne. The throne itself would not, I think, be immediately filled; upon abdication the Advisers,” he inclined his head briefly, “would as a group act as ruler, until a suitable candidate could be raised.” Isador tapped a thoughtful hoof. “Perhaps, in time, the young King could be educated enough to resume ruling, but it is my guess that he will find he greatly prefers life off the throne. He was never meant to have it, he nor his mother never dreamed of it nor suitably prepared, and that lack of foresight is now the quagmire we find ourselves in. We must find a way out, friends, or we may all well be lost.”
Isador shook his head again, bridle chiming softly.
“I have gathered you here for this discussion only. I value your thoughts, your insights- even if you do not agree with my own. But I ask you to remember what we’ve discussed, to think about it, apply it to the daily life of Eithne. Start your own discourses, with your own companions, but use your discretion. You are the heartbeat of Eithne; do not falter into silence, but continue beating, continue being great. And remember this meeting. Remember the words; and dream, dream of the future.”
The adviser flicked his tail, eyes roving the group as he waited for any more interjections.
Post 4 | 709 words
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Post by Jennycallie on Jan 19, 2017 15:59:36 GMT -6
The meeting is drawing to a close. Make any final parting statements that you feel pertinent, and then head home, to think about the future of your herd, and the role you might play in it.
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Post by brandonleffers on Jan 19, 2017 19:20:45 GMT -6
Dimitri / Chevalier/ Aodh
The Chevalier had heard enough opinions agreeing with some and not with others. It was a intriguing thought to have the king step down from his current post, to forgo his power to advisers. It was the most logical decision at least for the time being. His ears pinned back hearing the adviser speak again the horse made sense. Anything to get Aodh out of the horrid hole it was digging itself. It was good to know they were doing something about it, the stallion didnt wait for others to retort there was no reason, the peace was spoken. The idea was brought up and planted in their minds. It was something to keep in mind in the next passing months. Anything could happen. Dimitri nodded his head to the adviser "Thank you for taking the time to explain, and letting us know what the advisers are considering." he spoke before turning. The stallion didnt look back merely walked to the door and left things as they were. He knew no one and felt no need to say goodbyes to any. Tomorrow was a new day of training and he had no intention of being here late.
Word Count: 197 Post: # 4 |
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Post by Callousal on Jan 20, 2017 20:38:26 GMT -6
Aodh | Noble Lord | Luciano
The chestnut stallion had remained silent throughout the entire meeting, watching the dissent unfold with lips wrapped around his cigar, sucking in lightly before releasing the fumes through his nostrils; indirectly representing the boiling temper bubbling within him. Luciano was not one for general socialization; action however, action was something he could support.
He had grown tired of the relentless bickering, opinions clashing together that were all about as useful as throwing a glass of water into a wildfire. His blue eyes widened when Illidis talked however, standing tall for himself as he spoke his mind, and felt content with the attempt the pit fighter had made.
The Noble stallion’s gaze soon narrowed however, ears flicking attentively as he listened to the chatter, for Isador clearly had intent written all over his expression, but Luciano doubted that he alone would pursue such a large purse… though the more he thought about the plan, the more it made sense; the freckled stallion that stood proudly had corralled the group of misfits together to clear the fog, but a cloud of doubt still remained, would anyone follow him? If so, whom? Someone with power, or that of a lowly slave? However these thoughts, these ideas, were more so of an assumption on Luciano’s part, for he could not properly decipher the stoic mask that the stallion wore.
Blue eyes fell upon the slaves, speaking out against the decision to dethrone the young king, expressing a glint of amusement. His attention then darted over to the previously raucous stallion -an odd, orange haired commoner-, watching him chuckle to himself at a comment before reinforcing his commitment to the Advisor.
Luciano lightly bobbed his head as he exhaled smoke, raking in another breath before finally commenting on the situation at hoof.
"Talk," The dark liver chestnut began, "Talk is all that is going on, yet- I do not see any propositions as to how exactly we will remove the child from power. Tell me, Lord Isador," Luciano paused, pursing his lips as he held the cigar away from them with his telekinesis, "What have you drawn from this... meeting. There has been no progress here, yet you called on us for opinions.” He chuffed, his tone was flat, yet at the same time amused, prodding curiously at the mind of the Advisor that oversaw them.
"Opinions alone mean nothing, if they held any merit the colt out there causing havoc would've been long gone by now." Perhaps he was ranting on, perhaps he wasn't, but nonetheless this is what Isador had summoned them for, correct?
Post count: 3
Word count: 431
Mentions: Isador, Illidis, Ragnarok.
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Jan 21, 2017 14:31:58 GMT -6
.V I O N A .Servile Slave
Viona swallowed hard, the voices surroundings her echoing the inklings of worry she felt for both the young king and his teetering kingdom. Certainly they were jumping to conclusions however- killing King Amadeus wasn't an option. Aodh was not a city built of deception and murder. It was built from broken spirits and chains made of incandescent steel. The royal palace would become a gilded cage for the young king, of course it would. The roan mare sighed, but drew comfort from the idea that after being dethroned, Amadeus would only be giving up his crown, not his rights. Not like a slave. "Perhaps it truly is for the best.." she whispered, more to herself than anything. Inclining her head the mare glanced at all assembled, blue gaze coming to rest on Isador's collected expression. She admired his untouched tranquility in the face of such accusation and fear, in the face of outrage he was stoic and unbent. The blood-marked stallion went on after clearing the air and proposed his plan, something she hoped that the other advisors knew about. He was asking for a lot of faith, as well as their voices. Something precious and something dangerous. The advisor asked for their worries, their concerns, their insight... all opinions, all noise.
Opinions were knowledge in the game of thrones it was true- if one was to know what strings to pull it helped to know whose back you were scratching. And yet, Viona had none to give, she was still soaking it all in.. What sort of future lay before them... before her? Different emotions tugged at er gut, the smallest of all being hope. Wheter a collective group as Isador said was what the country needed she was unsure. Viona could only wonder if this would better things, or make them worse.. She had little time to collect her thoughts however, for it seemed Dimitri had had his fill of this meeting. His rumbling voice calmed her nerves and she went to follow his lead- but not before giving a small bend of her foreleg and a bow of her head. "May Ignacio bless your efforts, Advisor." If we aren't already going against the Fire God's will that is.. "Secrecy has been sworn.." Her eyes glimmered with respect, but also pleading. Viona hoped that the King's council knew what they were doing.. At what cost their actions might cause. With no more a word, the silver-haired maiden followed her master out- drawing her shawl over her gilded head and leaving the grand hall. As the darkness swallowed their forms her hoofbeats against the granite tiles faded into nothing, leaving the rest of the congregation to collect themselves.
|Post| 5
|WC| 449
|Notes| I think I'm just as anxious for the future as Viona is! |
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Post by empyre on Jan 21, 2017 21:37:50 GMT -6
Regina || Pit Fighter
"She's a killer....queen" Regina found her ears pricking forward with interest at the mention of the possibility of an assassination. She was not normally one for death or murder, she'd had her fill of that in her youth, but the king --child or not-- was the reason Jana was no longer alive. A murder for a murder, it was only fair.
It was hard to hind her disappointment when Isador explained that no harm would be coming to Amadeus, and she was certain the glare she leveled on Illidis hold him all she thought of his foolish objections. She had thought him worthy to be her friend, but now she could see he was just as soft as the servile scum.
"I for one am with you wholly, Isador, our herd --nor our loved ones-- will never be safe with a child on the throne." she stated, giving all those who had been opposed a pointed look, "I'm sure my master will share my thinking, I will tell her what you've said today."
With that, she nodded to the grey stallion and turned to leave. She paused in front of Illidis on her way out, though, leveling him with another sharp gaze, "I am disappointed in you..." she muttered, as though she were scolding her son instead of speaking to a peer, "I thought us friends before, but now I see it would be in your interest to refrain from speaking to me in the future."
With pinned ears, and head head up with an air of authority, Regina left the room and started on her way home.
~~~
Post 4 || 275 words |
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Post by Moose-On-Ice on Jan 21, 2017 21:57:14 GMT -6
Illidis | Pit Slave
"In the end what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No, a man chooses, and a slave obeys."
-Andrew Ryan, Bioshock
Illidis froze, curling inward some at the silence Isador let hang in the air. The words the adviser said made him flinch, and his green eyes again dropped to the floor in submission. He shouldn't have said anything. Isador was right, no one but him had spoken of killing anyone. He'd jumped to conclusions... He immediately lowered his head as Isador continued speaking, his stomach sick and mouth dry. He stepped back a few steps, retreating back behind Luciano. No more words. No more speaking out his mind. He'd been wrong to try and speak out about something he felt so strongly about... He hadn't gotten enough information and now he had made himself and his master a fool...
He pinned his ears flat, remaining completely silent while everyone else spoke and started leaving. He shouldn't have said anything. At all. This was a meeting for higher ups, not for slaves to offer their opinions. He'd been wrong, so wrong. The words of everyone started blending together, growing soft and muffled as he tuned it out. He didn't need to listen anymore. It wasn't his place. He closed his eyes, lowering his head. Bad, wrong, he had not been a proper slave... He could only pray to Ignacio that Luciano would not be furious.
He opened his eyes, glancing up at feeling a shadow crossing his form. He slowly looked up, flinching at the sight of Regina's sharp gaze. Disappointed was right... She had good reason to be. He'd just lost one of his few friends. Or someone he considered a friend. The pinning of her ears made him flinch again and lower his head more. The word 'sorry' was on the tip of his tongue, but he said nothing. It wouldn't matter.
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Word Count: 293 words; Post 6
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2017 23:24:56 GMT -6
//Ragnarok
The dark stallion’s eyes shifted to the pit slave once more as he spoke up, his brow quirking as he spoke. He must have felt real brave, opening his mouth, but all Ragnarok heard was whining. His eyes rolled as the slave played the whole ‘I know how it feels..’ sob story, suppressing the need to scoff. The stallion was grateful for the Advisor stepping in and speaking up, his brow furrowing as he turned his attention back to the other stallion. While no one had mentioned harming or killing the child king, that didnt mean no one was thinking it. Ragnarok’s own mind was spinning with different ideas on how to rid Aodh of such failure.. in a more permanent way. His lips twitches in a brief, dangerous spark of a smile before his face fell back to cold and confident.
His ears flicked as the chestnut noble spoke up, his attention turning toward the smoking stallion with slight curiosity as another left the room. An ear flicked back, his lips forming a scowl. “Maybe you should propose something yourself, if youre going to finally speak up. Seems like your slave has a louder voice than you.” The stallion huffed, stepping out from his place against the wall. “I, however, am content with what has been learned today, and i certainly have better things to do than stand around and squabble." He glanced toward his trusted Hawthorne, tipping his head to the door to signal it was time to leave.
His heavy hooves clicked against the smooth floor as he made his way to the door, only stopping once to take a glance back to the advisor. “I hope to hear from you soon.” Flicking his long forelock from his eyes, the stallion’s muzzle twitched as he turned to leave, leaving the room filled of strangers behind him. Once he was out of view, he couldnt help but let a snake-like grin crawl across his lips, fire dancing in his eyes. Deception, secrecy, rebellion.. he lived for this all and certainly couldnt wait for it to start.
//WC: 351 | Post #6
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Post by Callousal on Jan 22, 2017 0:31:49 GMT -6
Luciano | Noble Lord
Luciano scoffed at the orange haired stallion, unamused with his attempt of belittling him, “Yet your escort is far more sensible than you will ever be,” He hummed in thought, in muse, before returning his attention to the grullo paint that cowered behind him, “I will address you later.” The noble narrowed his eyes, neither hinting to disappointment or pride; somewhere inbetween, perhaps.
Without much thought he returned his cigar to his mouth, entertaining it with something other than words -that were desperately trying to make their way out into open air. A slight, curt, bob was what Luciano signalled to Isador before his leave, he wasn’t too interested in the debate that had occurred - it had proven insignificant.
With Illidis by his side and a smoke in his mouth, he left with nothing -theoretically speaking. No new knowledge, no new plan, no future. He would have to wait and see what exactly Advisor Isador was speaking of, or hinting at rather, as it left the Noble dumbfounded; no reason behind this meeting, only further enforcing his idea of the king.
Word count; 181
Post Count; 4
OC- I WILL EDIT TOMORROW INTERNET IS BEING BLOWN APART THIS IS TERRIBLE IM GONNA CRY
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Post by astrumnauta on Jan 22, 2017 12:13:11 GMT -6
Hawthorne
| Aodh Commoner | Post Seven |
Hawthorne looked around the room and all things considered it was a relief they weren't going to kill the boy-king, she allowed herself a sigh of relief.
It stung even Hawthorne when Regina sliced into Illidis and she watched the awful little mare leave, Hawthorne gave a snort in her direction and she looked towards Illidis .
"You were quick to react and maybe over related, but you were brave for speaking your mind. You may have lost her as a friend Illidis but you have gained me and if you ever need me I'll be around."
She looked towards Luciano and smiled, bowing her head slightly in thanks for the vague compliment in her direction. She then turned towards Isador and bowed her head again.
"Thank you for speaking to us, consider me in but I think we should all tread carefully. If the king catches wind of even the meeting we could all be in trouble. Safe journey"
She took a final look around the room and walked after Ragnarok, following the stallion she felt unsure if she liked him at all now and the way he spoke to the slaves had her wondering if she was better off with the chevaliers and if she had made a mistake practically demoting herself to a commoner, her father would not be proud. But this was her bed and she would lie in it.
She looked back towards the room she had just left, sighed heavily and turned following Rags silently back tot he street.
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Post by MapleEgg on Jan 22, 2017 21:30:24 GMT -6
Caspian of Cygnus | Lord | Aodh
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"To banish imperfection is to destroy expression, to check exertion, to paralyze vitality." - John Ruskin
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Capsian fell silent as the others spoke. They all needed to voice their opinions and he had spoken his but as he heard his young slave Umbra speak, the lord felt a shiver chase down his spine. Though he considered it a good move to dethrone the young king, for at least some time, the talk quickly turned its head to killing. That he would not stand for... but still, his family, his house, came first. He let his eyes linger on each who spoke, taking in their body language they so easily let loose. Dimitri, who spoke simple and left. Clearly letting everyone know this was the end of this meeting. Caspian gave a soft scoff at the noble Luciano's reply. What had come of this? An idea. The chance to change where Aodh was headed and for what looks like the better. Then the pretty Viona, a slave, showed concern for the future and left as well. Two others, both pit slaves seemed discontented with each other. One for the dethroning of their kind and the other had spoken his opinion before. Everyone seemed to be growing more anxious, as if the meeting had not started out as such. A commoner then piped his lot with the adviser and Caspian nodded. It seemed time to speak for him. His eyes found Isador and made his final statement.
"Isador, for now I stand with you. Whatever plans you have need finalizing before I risk my family's name for this. You know how to reach me and I am always available for the advisers" Caspian gave an honorific bow and looked at the horses who had not left yet "...but I will not stand by killing him. That is not Aodh. I will even offer my family as ward to the young king's teachings. But not murder." Cas's backbone solidified on this. Although it was clear the king would not be good for the honor of his house, the death of him would only make things worse. "I beg your pardon, but I will leave and think on this more. With your blessing Isador" With another bow he waited for the dismissal he would not leave without but he looked to Umbra to make sure his little slave was ready to depart. Caspian smiled at him and spoke softly. "Any parting words? Speak them now"
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Word Count:
500
Post #
4
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