Dreadlords The Anniversary of Freedom

Threads open to all members of the Dreadlords group
Ever took the flavored ice away, and Zael held out his hands dramatically. "Aww, come on, I was just gettin to the good part! See?"

He stuck out his tongue. Purple (red and blue, don't you know?). Now, see, there were a whole host of jokes he could've made right there. Yup. Right there. All of them having to do with licking whatever part of Ever came to mind and adding that little bit of prime Zael wordsmithing to turn it into a real belly-rocker of a punchline.

But, one, brain freeze hurt. Two, he needed his quick reflexes loaded and ready to just spit out the answer to whatever question she was gonna ask. He didn't need an explanation of the game to know that's how it had to work, or else it just wouldn't be fun. Ruins the whole truth bit if you don't blurt it out, right? So no time to craft a classic; Ever was conjuring up her question.

She must have been thinking...deep? No, not deep. Something. Something Zael couldn't quite pick up on. He thought he'd seen a twitch of her smile but he wasn't sure. Was she hesitating on the question? Well damn, worked like a charm, caught her off-guard with this!

Where do you see yourself in five years?

No time to ponder on how that seemed to be a rather tame question, he himself being caught just a little off-guard. He just answered, "Second Level Dreadlord, because I've been denied the First due to some ol' bullshit. I've been pissin off all the higher officers in the Guard, but they can't let me go because—"

He flicked a thumb off his nose as if he were striking flint to steel.

"—heh, I'm just too damn good. Give me another five years though and I'll have Ein followin my orders, that fuckin sexual mammoth of a man. Give me another five and I'll have people callin me Lord Zael Castomir, First of his Line of the new Castomir Family, that's fuckin right, you wait and see, Ever, you wait and see."

He crossed his arms.

"So. Dare, huh?"

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Grinned like a demon summoned straight out of Pandemonium.

"We're gonna play a game called: Pinch a Princess. It's pretty simple. You find a princess. And you pinch her. And I get to die laughin."

His smile was thin and tight, cheeks rising. It was a bit tame on his end too, yeah, despite how funny it was to him. But that also had to be part of the game too, right? Ramping up the truths and the dares. It was only natural.

Everleigh Ebersol
 
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Kristen would have loved to hold Drastus for the portrait. An embrace, an arm around his waist, even simply a clasping of hands. Yet it could not be so. One day, when it was not so dangerous for them anymore, when they each had the standing and stature to invalidate these present concerns, they could have another portrait drawn of them.

This first would always be a reminder of different times. Of times in flux, even. When they were riding the wave of change itself.

Kristen sat down on the bench with a refined and regal posture: legs and ankles together, back straight, chin level, and, after straightening out her dress to perfection, her hands primly folded in her lap.

And she smiled. A smile of quiet joy the like of which she had never known until this very day.

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
Nothing to prove they were a couple, lest they run the risk of their peers finding something against them. One day, he would have standing enough to make sure they were protected, so they could rule their own lives.

Kristen sat down on the bench, all lady-like, as one would expect of the Darling Daughter. Drast sat beside her, his thigh brushed against hers as he leaned back casually in the bench. His hand would rest on the back of the bench and slide around Kristen, allowing his hand to brush her back as it passed. His hand finally came to a stop, with no real contact with her body where it rested.

There was a quick glance to her before he looked to the artist and offered his trademark grin.

The painter would begin with winding strokes on the canvas. "Perfect. You two are naturals." She said lightly as she worked.
 
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The light brush of his hand against her back. Discreet and casual. Thrilling like a bolt of lightning illuminating the entirety of the night sky, the excited thunder in her chest which followed hard to contain, but contain it she did.

Mayhap she could lean on that, the thrill, as powerful encouragement to keep herself from spilling out the truth as she easily did. To help keep the secret safe.

Naturals. It was good to know that Drastus was quite apt at preserving his posture as well! Many a night at a large dinner table, her father Neil or her uncle Tobias sitting at its head and Pirians sitting all down the sides, Kristen had sat for a long hour or two with the prim posture her Mother and Amelia had instilled in her.

And here it was again, such that a portrait might capture them, their smiles, on this very day on which the rest of their lives would well turn.

This lovely day.

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
Drast thought he felt a quiver at the touch, or perhaps he imagined it. Either way, he would maintain that grin that she knew so well, if only for the portrait.

So, they would sit there for a short bit of time in silence as the artist worked, her brush stroking along the canvas. She would look up between them, smirk to herself, and keep painting.

Luckily for Drastus, he had picked a comfortable position, his go-to, mastered after hundreds of hours of having zero fucks to give while in class. The only one who could rival how casual he was sitting was Zael. And that was a championship match they would have to settle one day.

In little time, the artist would shake her brush and once more smiled. "That's it, what do you think?" She would shift the canvas to allow them both a better view. The lines were perfect, the color reflected the setting sun, and the details allowed every inch of the scar or tattoo to be seen.

Kristen Pirian
 
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Kristen stood up once the artist finished the portrait, fussing only minorly over her dress and its straightness before stepping forward for a closer look.

"Oh my goodness...!" She'd almost said By Aionus. Well, that was another secret she'd kept for the longest time, was it not? "This is astounding!"

Kristen traced all the current objects of her gaze with one slender finger. Not touching the canvas, but her fingernail hovering just above its surface. "You can see some of the individual hairs of my bangs! My ruby pendant seems to sparkle even off the canvas! And Drastus, look, is it not a perfect match of your tattoos? What stunning clarity on the lion! Oh!"

She reached over and squeezed his bicep. But her touch couldn't linger for more than what could appear to be a friendly, and merely friendly, gesture.

She smirked a little. "I think she captured the size of your arms quite well. Would you not agree?"

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
When Kristen moved to stand, his hand moved to her back to help push her to her feet. On the outside, it would look like a friend messing with the other. He himself, then stood up and stretched.

Kristen seemed quite pleased, which made Drast quite pleased. He did his best to hide that expression that followed but he wasn't sure he was very convincing with it. He stepped up beside her and smirked. "Oh yeah, it's amazing. Never seen quality that could match it."

And he hadn't. It was just amazing. He didn't allow himself to trace the canvas either for fear he would brush her hand with his own and foil the plan before it ever truly began. "And your smile is just perfectly depicted in it, especially the emotion behind it." He mused, before cursing himself silently.

He may have slipped, but Kristen picked it right back up. She reached over and grabbed ahold of his bicep.

I think she captured the size of your arms quite well. Would you not agree?

What would any guy friend do? Show off. So he did. He gave Kristen and the artist an unsolicited ticket to the Vel Anir Muscle Factory. Five poses, each time his definition rivaled the last. He wasn't a hulking mass, but he also wasn't a twig. Once he was done, he would procure a stack of gold without asking a price and handed it over.

The artist seemed amused. "I'm glad you two like it." She would take the coins. "So generous, here, I have something else for you."

She would turn the canvas back towards her and with a wave of the hand, the painting would duplicate twice, before shrinking to tinier sizes. Each of the other two would be small enough to fit in the locket, while the main work would find its way in a frame of sorts. "For you both. My you walk a blessed path."

Kristen Pirian
 
It wasn’t fair. Just like back in Arnim when Zael had put her at ease when she felt like she was being watched, anxiety nibbling at the back of her head. And now. The same thing. Saying the purple was the good part, sticking out his tongue. How dare he make that minuscule piece of hope swell up. Everleigh was so close to distinguishing it, a candle in a gutter, a dying, flickering flame at the edge of it’s life, and here Zael came, unknowing; adding fuel for that flame to continue on and grow even bigger than before.

Before she realized it she was blushing, her cheeks hot.

I hate you.” Everleigh teasingly, lightly punching Zael in his bicep and grinning up at him. There was some truth in her statement, if only because love and hate tended to be two sides of the same coin. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time Everleigh had lied, using words in such a way so they were half-truths. The bowl of melted purple ice was still thrown away as he told her his future.

Yeah.” Everleigh said, looking up at Zael. “Yeah, I will see. I don’t mind waiting.” She dropped her gaze, looking out at all the people, at all the Anirians celebrating this day. And then it was her dare. She raised a dark brow, looking over at Zael as he said his dare. Pinch a princess? To be fair to him, it did have a nice ring to it. At the same time….

So we’re playing it safe right now, huh?” Everleigh asked, mauve eyes sparkling. It was great, Zael had done little in clarifying the dare. Either way, he would still most likely guffaw at whoever she pinched. “Alright. A princess.” Everleigh said aloud, placing her hands on her hips, cinching her dress in. “You think I can find the Prince’s fiance?” She asked impishly. Truth be told, she would go after her— higher chance of danger, higher chance of meaning Everleigh would have to think of how to be able to do such a thing, which would just make the whole thing more fun.

However making a dare last all day— and possibly missing out on getting Zael to do one of her pre-planned dares— wouldn’t be wise. So, Everleigh pulled out a coin. Heads was right, tails was left. She flipped it, caught it, and put it on the back of her hand to reveal… tails. Sweet. Left. Her favorite way to go when it came to exploring.

Come on, firecracker, let’s get moving. I got a princess to find.” Everleigh said and started walking towards the left.



“MAKE WAY, MAKE WAY, YE BOYS AND GIRLS, MAKE WAY FOR THE WILDBERRY PRINCESS!” Someone shouted, and a trumpet blared— although it sounded more like a screaming elephant than an actual musical instrument. A troupe of very, very green (metaphorically and literally as many of them we’re actually wearing green and had green face paint on) actors was walking through, shouting and hollering and getting as much attention from the children that they could garner.

“The wildberry princess! From the land of OOH!” Another shouted. More trumpets blared. Moments later a tall man— who to be fair, was quite willowy and had very soft features— was painted pink and wearing a pink dress. When he spoke, his voice was unnaturally high and nasally.

“Tis I, the wonderous WILDBERRY PRINCESS, here to celebrate with all the little boys and girls this wonderful day of freedom. Come and marvel with me and I shall tell a tale about a the Kingdom of OOH and ending the tyranny of foul dragons—“

Blah blah blah. Yeah because telling the toddlers that dreadlords killed one another for opposing ideas was too much for them to handle. Everleigh nudged Zael with her elbow. Without a word she went off, easily sidestepping young children and the green actors with small drums and trumpets who were still shouting even with the “WILDBERRY Princess” shouting more nonsense.

Gliding past everyone, violet tresses flowing behind her, she pivoted, twirled, hopped over a fallen child, and soon enough she was right beside the “princess.” The young man hardly had time to react to Everleigh leaning up close to him, swiftly grabbing his arm.

I think pink really suits you,” She said, right before she pinched him. Hard. Digging her nails in and everything with her devilish grin. He yelped, losing the fake girl voice, and jumping back.

“The fuck! What’s with you?” He growled out, rubbing his arm over the two red crescent marks. Another actor cleared his throat, the children around them growing silent and watching. The princess narrowed his eyes at Everleigh. “BEGONE BLACKBERRY WITCH! OR FACE MY WRATH AS THE WILDBERRY PRINCESS!” A hand went into his pocket, and he threw a handful of plump raspberries right at Everleigh.

For the most part, she dodged them all, laughing at the ridiculousness and soon enough she was half-running, half-skipping away back towards Zael. Red splatters could be seen along the top of her white dress from when a few stray berries had managed to hit her. But the shouting didn’t stop.

“BERRY GUARDS! ATTACK THE BLACKBERRY WITCH!” The princess shouted, and all the actors produced more plump, ripe berries from their pockets or rucksacks or another other place they could hold the fruit. Coming towards Everleigh and Zael were berries, lots and lots of berries about to rain down on them. Who would have thought actors had such strong arms?

Go, go, go!” Everleigh shouted, face alight with joy. Finally, some good, old-fashion trouble.

Zael Castomir
 
Look at that blush. Didn't even need to toss out the purple-licking joke to get that. And hey, you know what? That just meant he could keep it in reserve. Bring it back up when she least expected it and see what shade of red those cheeks would turn then.

She punched his arm, and Zael matched her grin. No, exceeded it. There was nothing he loved more than affectionate physicality, and never were his grins more exuberant than when he was on the receiving end of it. He never had before, but he ought to hit her with a surprise chokehold before the day was done. Why not? Fuck, he was actually a bit shocked with himself that he hadn't been doing shit like that with Ever already. Mostly it had been with the other boys, even if they really didn't like him doing it—man, Tinker had the best reactions.

And then they were off to find a Princess. The Royal family was still around, right? They weren't all dead? Eh. They'd find out.

* * * * *​

You know what.

A princess was a princess.

And this "princess" had a hell of a fuckin Adam's apple though, Kress, like he was choking on a whole tangerine.

Ever, naturally, had no fear nor shame nor anything that would hold her back. These children might be all swept up in the whimsical fiction of the Wildberry Princess, but they were about to find out if the sweet Princess had a bit of a sour side to him. The best part about pinches was that they had the best "inspired fury to physical contact" ratio out of anything you could do. Who would've thought two fingers could spark such intense explosions of rage?

And Ever's didn't disappoint. Not only was she yelled at and christened the Blackberry Witch, she was pelted with raspberries and her white dress was starting to look like she stopped the whole Tide of the Dead single-handedly. Not a bad dare, if Zael could say so himself. And he did say so, haha!

Drawn together in the flight from the Wildberry Princess's minions, Zael and Everleigh ran, hauling ass across the enormity of the Square and weaving through assembled crowds and gaggles of people and the maze of stalls and games and vendors. One of the actors had launched a Hail Kress raspberry which by sheer luck hit and bounced off of Zael's head. It felt like a polite little tap on the dome as if somebody were waking him up in a particularly snooze-worthy class.

Zael also pushed a lot of people out of his and Ever's way as they fled. Yeah. Happy Festum Libertatis, motherfuckers, don't get caught with your guard down and vote Castomir when you get the chance. A few angry shouts chased after them, but if the owners of those shouts gave pursuit they got lost quickly enough.

Eventually, they got away and stumbled into a spot to catch their collective breath. Right by a large fountain ringed with vendor stalls, between a smiling old lady who politely paid them no mind behind her humble stall and a hawker who was far too busy trying to make a sale to care.

Zael planted his hands on his hips and tilted his head back, sucking in sweet air, face bathing in the radiance of the sun. And his smile was magnificent.

"What a rush."

You know what. Now was the time.

He laughed and lunged for Ever and put her in a lighthearted chokehold, a big arm coiled snuggly but not too tight around her neck. "How you like that name, huh? Blackberry Witch! You pinched that asshole so hard he gave you a title!"

Everleigh Ebersol
 
Oh how the durability of their guise was tested! Kristen caught herself staring, fawning, after Drastus decided to put his arms on full display in a series of particular poses. She had to remind herself that to the outside world they had to appear as simply friends. What happened on secluded rooftops needed to stay just that: secluded.

The artist had one last splendid trick up her sleeve, and as soon as she did it Kristen clapped her hands together and exclaimed, "Alteration!" Certainly she hadn't as many classes on College Magic as her peers, but this particular discipline was easily recognizable. And handy!

She held the smaller, locket-sized portrait given to her in her hands; her dress had no pockets.

"And you as well. You have our gratitude!"

And as they began to walk away, she said to Drastus, "Before we depart, I would love to find something to eat." A sheepish smile, and she made a joke at her own expense. "I suppose I did make the room in my stomach, didn't I?"

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
Oh how Kristen almost melted like rancid jelly. He fired a grin and several brow waggles to really test her durability. The display was complete with grunts of pure unadulterated masculine power, after all, what was a muscle factory without some grunting?

Somehow, one portrait turned to three before his very eyes and his jaw dropped. This lady was a witch that was quickly approaching the requirements for a stake. But, he was not going to say anything or zap! Frog time! And he just did not think his tone would transfer well to amphibian.

This was just as cool as Glove Mommy's master glove making! He tried to watch and learn but it seemed like a lot of effort. Next thing he knew, Kristen was shouting out about alterations, it wasn't a dress, Kris.

"Yeah, thanks." Drast would respond before he tucked away his amulet sized picture in a pouch and the large portrait snugly in his pack.

As they got ready to leave Kristen would give him a look, with one of her cute sheepish smiles.

Before we depart, I would love to find something to eat. I suppose I did make the room in my stomach, didn't I?

He laughed. "Oh yeah, let's grab some grub and th-."

BERRY GUARDS! ATTACK THE BLACKBERRY WITCH!

Drast looked towards the commotion. "What in the tootie-fruity fifth ring of hell is going on over there?" He would grab ahold of Kristen's hand as he began to jog towards the commotion. It wasnt a far jog and while they ran, he released her hand. A flash of purple getting pelted by berries could be seen through the stalls.

This had to be the ugliest woman he had ever seen since Pepper at the Lusty Leopard. No, that was a man with a coconut playing Adam's apple cosplay. He side stepped through a stall and snatched at least a big juicy tomato off of a table and launched it with all of his might. Poor Wildberry PrincAss never saw it coming and as juicy red guts splat across his face like the brothels best money shot, his five inch pumps would betray him into a sprawl.. that landed him on top of some members of the Lolipop brigade.

With a laugh he dipped back to where Kristen was. "Go-go! Let's go find food, that way!" He would point towards the opposite direction.

Kristen Pirian
 
It felt good to run, Everleigh realized. Even if she was wearing slippers instead of the usual sturdy boots, she was quick and agile. Really, even if Zael never pushed others out of the way, Everleigh would have slipped past them and not have been yelled at. Yet Zael was in the lead, and for once, Everleigh was fine with not being the leader, with not being up front and leading everyone else. And getting yelled and cursed at was far more fun anyways, making her heart beat ever faster.

Although that also could have been because whenever Zael pumped his arms back and forth as they sprinted away from the theater trope, his shoulder blades would stretch the shirt even further. Really, it left little to the imagination, and Everleigh was more than happy to remember the contours of his back, how each individual muscle would move and flex and connect.

When they were away from the commotion, and the troublemaking duo could take a break and catch their breath, Everleigh couldn’t help but to look over her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell in a steady fashion, a testament to her endurance training, with only a slight flush and a thin layer of sweat along her brow to show she had put in effort in the run. She turned her back to Zael, gimlet gaze looking through the crowd. She thought she had caught sight of Drastus and Kristen but—

What are you—???

Curse Zael. Or rather, bless his heart. Everleigh wasn’t sure which one she felt more due to butterflies fluttering around in her stomach, her heart somehow beating faster; distracting her cool, level-headedness. Head leaning slightly back so she could look up at him for a moment. The sun was in her eyes, but today… the sun was beautiful, wasn’t it?

Everleigh took a deep breath, leaning back into Zael, pressing her back as much as possible into his chest. This was almost like a hug, wasn’t it? A dreadlord edition hug. Or rather… a Zael edition hug. Her hands reached up, one holding onto his bicep and the other onto his forearm, keeping him in place. Sure it was a chokehold but right now, she felt a sort of security she had never really felt before.

She waited for a comment, something along the lines of her poisoning him— whether it was letting him know if she had to fart, comparing her to Trix, even telling her to not poison him. But there was none. And so she sunk into Zael even more, relishing his warmth for another moment or two, a wide smile showcasing all her white teeth as she giggled.

It felt… so damn GOOD. It felt so damn good to be human.

Eyes fluttering shut to try and conceal the two big fat tears that fell from either eye, dark lashes doing little to keep them at bay. She felt them fall down the fair slope of her cheeks, pausing for a moment at her jaw before sliding down to her chin, merging together as one.

But dreadlords didn’t cry— maybe they got a bit misty-eyed, but they didn’t cry.

Where Everleigh had been lax before, all of a sudden everything within her became tense and tightened up. With a huff, Everleigh leaned back to then quickly lurch her upper body forward, tightening her grip on Zael’s arm. The muscles in her thighs bulged, hidden by the fabric of her white dress, but regardless of the fact that she was wearing a dress and wasn’t in uniform, she still did her best to try and flip Zael over her shoulder, even if he did have nearly fifty pounds or muscle over her.

It ended up with her upper body completely parallel to the ground as she bent over, and Zael safely on her back as if she were trying to give him a piggy back ride. Looking straight down at the ground, Everleigh could spot a single, dark circle right beneath her. It would evaporate soon enough, her teardrops hidden from the rest of the world.

Kress, you’re heavy.” Everleigh said with a chuckle. “Stop trying to distract me, I completed my dare, now you gotta choose which one you wanna do. Or else… face the wrath of the blackberry witch.

Zael Castomir
 
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"Oh my—!"

Shouts were aplenty here at the Festival. Most of them just had to go unnoticed, just sinking into the overall din in the background of Kristen's being here. Yet when Drastus, quite humorously, mused aloud at whatever commotion was going on vaguely to their left. Kristen tuned her ears in as well.

And saw a most hideous use of a perfectly fine dress. Kristen was so taken aback by the sight of the Wildberry Princess, so boggled was her mind, that she scarcely knew Drastus had launched a tomato at the "Princess" until the tomato struck and he was laughing and hurrying her in the opposite direction of all that trouble.

They ran. And in her chest her heart thumped with a guilty sort of mischievous naughtiness, even though she hadn't done anything herself, and a braced grin bore evidence to this anxious delight. The closest things she could think of were when she and Amelia would get into some kind of trouble and attempt to hide it together from their mother Josephine. Sometimes they were successful. Sometimes Amelia had to explain why Kristen had scraped elbows, or why there were sweets stuffed inside of her dress.

Clearing the space from one end of Anir Square to the other, finally they came to a stop. Kristen panted for a little bit, her hands on her hips, but didn't need much to recover. Proctor Magomo's training was paying off well!

"That all...happened suddenly!" she commented, and then her wandering eyes saw: "Oh! Are those funnel cakes?"

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
They dodge, duck, dipped, dove, and dodged all throughout the crowd during their flight, all the way until they finally came to a stop. Drast had lost all track of their surroundings, the festival, he was just lost in the moments that he enjoyed with... his girlfriend?

A single question would pull him from his reverie.

Oh! Are those funnel cakes?

He would look back at Kristen with a smirk. "Look. I know I took ya to the Muscle Factory like five minutes ago, but you gotta calm with that. Gonna plow the cover if you keep talking about my a-" he had turned to her only to notice the pavilion named 'RYDLES CAKES'.

"Huh.. funnel cakes. Let's go split one. Or.. are you hungry enough to eat your own?"

Kristen Pirian
 
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Most people went right to wiggling, struggling, pulling away, all that, and the wrestling match was basically on at that point, both Zael and the recipient of his brand of affection jostling around on their feet for a spell until the chokehold broke one way or the other and Zael, at least (sometimes joined in by his partner), got to having a good laugh over it.

Ever, though. She surprised him. She didn't pull away and they didn't launch into a little grappling scuffle like he expected. Nope. Ever actually leaned in (pressing herself to him in a manner that was distinctly arresting) and looked up at him.

A glistening glimmer in her eyes. Tiny shimmers as the angle caught the sun and an ephemeral white shine glided smoothly across her purple gaze. Some of that exuberant humor over their mischief with the Wildberry Princess had given way to awe, tiny, but there and magnificent, like a small diamond dwarfed by the large palm which held it.

She giggled. And for Zael the sound seemed to open up the world for just a fraction of a moment. There was more out there than the Academy and missions and killing the foes of Vel Anir. There was so much more.

Then she caught him by surprise again.

"Woah!"

And he was on her back, arm still nestled around her neck and the tips of his toes just barely dangling above the cobbles of the Square. In the shifting his nose had poked into one of the crooks of her braids and, inadvertent or no, he drew a breath and the smell of her hair graced him and somehow it was this that drove home just how close they were. Everleigh Ebersol, the Poison Eater—touch her and you're dead, so it often went among their peers.

Well. Fuck their peers. He and Ever were close, touching, and he didn't give a damn about what they rumors and hearsay went round and round. Was there a time when he did? When he was scared or wary like all the rest? Yup.

That time was gone.

"Big boys gotta eat," Zael said. Damn right he was heavy. And now, on with the game. "That's a deal, Blackberry Witch. Save that slam for later, eh? I'll do somethin to earn it."

He still hadn't bothered to get down from her back yet. He could feel a few curious stares from passersby, but come on people, get festive, choke your friends or body-slam them into the street and then laugh it off later over drinks or somethin.

Alright. Enough dawdlin. The game.

"I pick..." He formed his mouth and tongue to make a "d" sound. But, funny thing about that? "D" and "t" were both formed the same way. "Truth."

His cheeks rose up high, flushed with excitement, as his enormous smirk returned. "Because you already know what I'm gonna do in the third round."

Everleigh Ebersol
 
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For some reason that Kristen could intimately feel but could not quite explain, the idea of splitting one of the cakes with Drastus had a very strong appeal. Mayhap it was as simple as finding the thought of sharing with him—this and other things—to be lovely, purely lovely. Oh but it did seem deeper than that.

She was glad to have declined the extra cotton candy from earlier. Why, she felt as though she yet had a bit more room for something sweet, and a funnel cake was not anywhere near as sweet as that pink confection.

Kristen smiled delightedly, excitement and anticipation washing her face in a new wave of red. Her hands she held in front of herself, shoulders hiked up in a near mirror with her risen cheeks. She said, "Y-Yes, I would very much like to split one with you, Drastus."

Without losing that subdued glee, she was also quick to add (demurely averting her gaze as she did), "I think also that it would be best if we again found a more quiet place to eat, as well."

Quiet and secluded, away from dangerous, wandering eyes. Where they could enjoy the company of one another once more without reservation.

And share a treat together.

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
Drast watched her light up like a candle at his question and he couldn't help the own grin that formed. He didn't care about a funnel cake, he just cared about how she felt towards him.

Y-Yes, I would very much like to split one with you, Drastus. I think also that it would be best if we again found a more quiet place to eat, as well.

The grin broadened and he would almost reflexively take her hand. The reach had already started, so he wrapped it around her shoulder like he would Zael or Kalix. "Right this way, then!" His head would tilt towards her to whisper lowly under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. "Gods above, I love you.."

He winked and then withdrew his arm, before clapping his hands and rubbing them together like he was working on a scheme. "My man, Rydle! Let me get one of those delicious and plump cakes! Double the powder, triple the caaaake! I want this eff-cee to be thicker than a bowl of oatmeal!"

The mage would laugh, and surprisingly enough, he would deliver on a funnel cake so big, it was a good thing they had an appetite and were splitting. "Thick?! Like Chardøn from the Lusty Leopard, ah-ha!" Rydle would give his mustache a twirl before he pulled the deep fried cake from the oil and then blasted it with layers of powdered sugar. He even threw in two ceramic bottles of some sort of magick brew.

Drast looked back at Kristen and fired a wink her way before looking back at Rydle and setting down a decent sized stack of coins. "For the cake and whatever this mystery drink is."

"Enjoy, and watch the mess, yes?"

Drast smirked and shot Rydle a finger gun. "I see what you did there. A rhyme, classic Rydle." He then gathered up the goods and walked back over to Kristen. "So.. we have time to go back to our rooftop.. catch the sunset?" He offered.


Kristen Pirian
 
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Gods above, I love you.

A shiver of delight tingled its way down Kristen's spine. I love you. If ever there were three words which could part any pall and bring forth sunlight to illuminate one's way, it was those. What strength they had to carry her through! And what utter foolishness the Academy, and Vel Anir at large, engaged in by disallowing their Dreadlords to harness this feeling!

"And I, you," she whispered back, echoing what Drastus himself had said to her. There was a sweetness to it, a special sweetness, another set of three words that contained a certain power and these with a sort of uniqueness that was all their own.

Up to the man, Rydle, who was selling the funnel cakes. A genial man with a large mustache he was, and he certainly did not skimp on his offering of the confection. Good that they were splitting, lest Kristen tempt an ache in her stomach to rival her few successful childhood raids on the Pirian Estate kitchen! Oh, what might be in the bottles? Perhaps something that went well with the cakes?

Kristen dipped her head in gratitude, said, "Thank you very much, Mister Rydle," and gave the man a parting wave.

And off they went, weaving through the fluid openings in the crowd and through the flow of the numerous passersby.

"Oh, the rooftop! 'Twould be a wonderful place to watch the setting of the sun." She smiled, a touch bashfully, a touch greedily, a touch eagerly. "So long as we are far back from view from below. I should like to cast off this charade of merely being 'friends' once more."

For certainly, seeing each other once back at the Academy (and doing so without raising suspicion from Proctors and peers) would be difficult. Oh how she wished to enjoy their time whilst it was plentiful and free.

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
And I, you.

She took his words. That sly little minx took his words. He wasn't mad, they were good lines. And they conveyed everything he knew she was feeling. Everything. Now more than ever, he needed to graduate, to build up a following. So they could have their day.

Thank you very much, Mister Rydle.

"No, thank you, little lady." Rydle would say with a flick of his 'stache.

Such were her manners, that she got a 'little lady'. Drast would return his focus to weaving through the crowd, finding the path of less resistance so that no harm would befall their surprisingly hot sweet treat.

Oh, the rooftop! 'Twould be a wonderful place to watch the setting of the sun.

"Oh yeah, best place to compare the beauty of you and the sun and find it lacking." He said back with a grin. She wanted to shed the guise of 'friends', a thought that very much excited him.. her eagerness to be with him as they were meant to be.

Soon, they would reach their hidden alleyway, with their hidden ladder. Just as they vanished from the view of the street, he would turn to her, one arm wrapping around her waist, and pull her against him, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. Impassioned, yet restrained. He would then break off the kiss, a bit too early to raise her own need, before stepping away and climbing the ladder.

Three points of contact as he made his climb, one hand held the funnel cake aloft to ensure it was safe. And as he reached the top, he would reach down and extend a hand to help Kristen up. From there, they would be close to the ledge and within view of the street, so once she crested the ladder, he would pull her back to where their blanket lay in wait, and sit down.


Kristen Pirian
 
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Oh yeah, best place to compare the beauty of you and the sun and find it lacking.

Kristen blushed yet again, the blood in her cheeks lighting little bashful and enamored fires there. It was all so enrapturing, so captivating, to hear Drastus speak so. Still it was a touch difficult to believe that this was all happening, that she was now part of a romance, her own romance. She'd seen it in others, read about it at length whenever she could, thought about it in dizzying daydreams once she had become old enough to acquire the intensely curious interest in suitors and courting and all that came with it, and now it was hers. This was not one of a number of innocent and unrequited crushes. This was hers, love allowed to come into full bloom.

In the alleyway, the purest delight awaited her. "Oh!" she had said, and even that scarcely had the time to leap from her tongue before Drastus's arm was about her waist and his lips were pressed to hers—and she wouldn't have had it any other way. She had her hands halfway raised to cup his cheeks when he pulled away, and at this Kristen just grinned playfully. Drastus, you sly devil, you, leaving her embers burning hot. Yet longing anticipation made for a wonderful fulfillment, did it not?

Atop the roof, they sat and ate of the funnel cake, a little satisfied mmm after Kristen had taken her first bite of it. And for a while they did just that, sit and eat and gaze out over the rooftops.

And Kristen said in at tone both somber and sweet, "I love this city. I love this city and its people. This is my home, and I would do anything to protect it."

Rueful thoughts of her failures. Of how she continuously fell short.

"I want the dawn to always find Vel Anir, thriving and well, upon Liadain. Always."

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
He still couldn't believe it, believe that she was his, no that she had chosen him. The Darling Daughter was bound to have a hundred suitors or more, each from a House in higher standing then his own, and yet she picked him.. the son of, for lack of a better word, a hedge knight. His father had an impressive reputation, but their House was still considered little more then fledgling. Two generations old.

They were seated upon the roof, enjoying each others company, and instead of eating the funnel cake he took the moment to watch her struggle to navigate the immense plumes of powdered sugar.

I love this city. I love this city and its people. This is my home, and I would do anything to protect it.

He.. didn't love this city. At all. It was a poison to him and to his family. A poison to all the children who had to suffer the old Academy. The people, weren't much better. But.. it was the favored city of the woman he loved, which meant he had to learn to accept it.

"Yeah.. its an alright city." He mused with a playful side-eye to her. "A lot of bad memories here.." he said softly. ".. but some very good ones, too.. maybe they'll even out." One hand reached up to scratch his jaw. "That doesn't mean I won't protect people from experiencing what we had to. I do recall us agreeing to travel for a bit after we graduate, however."

His other hand dug into his pocket, where he procured two lockets, matching. "I uhhh.. got these while we were escaping the crazy." He said with a smirk, offering one to her. "Hopefully they'll fit the portraits."



Kristen Pirian
 
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A lot of bad memories here.

Kristen's heart sank a little. The tragedy with Doran might have been the heaviest among them, but Drastus's quiet tone made it clear it wasn't the only one. She did smile a little when he went on to say that there were also very good memories. No place on Arethil was perfect, so it was all she could hope for that the good outweighed the bad. For Drastus and for all her fellow Anirians.

Then he reached into his pocket.

Kristen gasped lightly, looking from the locket and up to Drastus, "For me?" She didn't even need to say thank you, for before she knew it she was already in motion, wrapping her arms around him and pecking him on the cheek before kissing him fully on lips, heart all a-flutter once more with this small taste of what she'd been waiting for.

"Here. Shall we find out?" She held up the shrunken portrait in one hand and the locket in the other and slowly brought them together. With a little finesse, she was able to press the portrait inside the tiny locket. "Marvelous! Certainly she was skilled, that artist. Hardly the first time she had used her magic so!"

A small detour from the weightier conversation Kristen had been angling into, but a brief and welcome stay of it.

Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
The thing with Kristen: it always pained him to take the wind from her sails. She was so happy a person, so joyful a soul, that he hated to see her smile fade for even a second. It was probably that joy, that wonder, that had brought his interest to her.

For me?

He nodded as she took it. "One for e-." He was cut off as she suddenly embraced him. One kiss, a teasing peck, before she cut him off with the real thing.

When she broke off the kiss, he was just smiling like an idiot. Like a really content idiot.

Here. Shall we find out?

A dumb nod, before he snapped out of it and pulled his own tiny portrait out. He watched what she did, then mirrored it. Her tinier fingers probably helped her achieve that perfect fit before he could get his, but something he was proud of, was his finger dexterity.

"Yeah, she was pretty great at it. And now.. we got these." He looked up at her with a smile. It was then that it dawned on him: he had derailed a conversation. "Oh! Sorry for uhh the side bar, Kris.. uhh.. you seemed like you wanted to talk about something. Whats on your mind?"


Kristen Pirian
 
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I cannot become a Dreadlord if I remain as I am. Something must change.

The words left her lips and Drast kinda just stared for a few minutes. What in all the gods and all the Hells did that mean? Couldn't have to do with him, he was a new arrival, of sorts. So.. he did what anyone would do.. ask.

"Well.. what are you wanting to change?"


Kristen Pirian
 
  • Yay
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