Private Tales Out of Nowhere

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
In addition to being a singer and a poet, Richard was also a painter. He got that gift from his mother who was a renowned painter around Arethiel. Her mixture of Oil and texture style made her paintings appear striking and dynamic with a dash of esoteric. Richard remembered seeing his mother's paintings in awe believing he would never create anything as beautiful as what she created. When he wasn't training to become a Knight, Richard would spend time with his mother learning how to paint. She would always tell Richard to come up with a style of his own, to show the world who Richard Henry the Eighth is.

"Be who you are," She would tell Richard. "It is easy to be what people think you should be. But great people have risen not because they were the same but because they were unique."

Perhaps Richard the advice too seriously, sure it's always good to carve out an identity that's unique to you but there are familial duties to uphold especially when it comes to marriage. Still, Richard's mother is a good woman, part of the reason he left his home was that he was inspired by what his mother taught him. Richard never wanted to become a Knight, he wanted to be an explorer, a singer. Richard wanted to go to the Bard's College in Alliria instead of the College of Elbion. There were so many things that Richard wanted that his father tried to deny him. Now things come full circle, Richard stumbled upon his bethroed who's not as happy about the whole ordeal as him.

"Go ahead," Richard grinned. "Mother always taught me to add a little bit of yourself into your paintings. Let your voice sing through the colors of your canvas my artist. You are the creator of the miniature world in front of you. Let the inspiration flow through you."

He was fully expecting Myrcella to paint a Pig dressed in armor. Richard wouldn't mind, Pigs were adorable animals after all!
 
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His artist? HIS artist?! Well she wasn't his yet! Right now she was merely bethrothed, promised to him by her late Father. Right now she was still her own person.

And that person wanted to make as much of a fool out of Richard Henry the Eighth as she could!

"Oh I've got inspiration, alright..." She walked right over to the vase of flowers, picked it up and carried it over to him. Taking out a few stems, Myrcella tilted her head to the side a bit. "Pucker your lips, please, as though you are giving me a kiss." Once he had done so, she'd place the stems across his lips, as though they were some flowery mustache. But if he didn't, then she'd merely stuff them in the neck of his armour so that they'd stick up in front of his face.

Then she'd do the unthinkable. Oh yes! Myrcella flipped the vase over so that the water and flowers would dump all over his head. Water trailed from his hair and down into his armour. And to top it all off, she placed the upside down vase on his head like a hat. "Perfect! Now hold still!" She turned on her heel with a pleased grin on her face as she skipped back to the canvas and picked up her brush and pallet of colours. Then she set herself to work.
 
Well that was unexpected.

Richard Henry remained while Myrcella poured the flower pot over his head. He flinched a little bit as the cold water began brush against his skin. "Perhaps painting me as a Pig would've been more preferable," Richard thought groaning inwardly. "Well mother always said that inspiration comes from the most unusual of places."

Sometimes Richard runs his mouth without thinking. It was a flaw that certainly got him punched in the face a few times while out on the road. Richard always preferred the tongue over the sword but like that soldier who can't seem to stop swinging his sword even though their commanding officer ordered them to stop, Richard can't seem to stop talking even when it was inappropriate to do so. Just like what happened now with an angry and annoyed girl who's soon to be Richard's wife being annoyed with his snark.

"I've always loved gardens," Richard said watching Myrcella beginning her painting. "I've never thought I'd become part of the plants for a garden though."
 
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"We all become part of a garden some day." A little dark maybe, but it was true. Everybody dies. Until the death of her Father, she hadn't really experienced it before. Distant relatives far away didn't count, afterall. Especially if she didn't know them. Myrcella was still in mourning, so the darker thoughts and grief seemed to come and go at random times.

Still, all that she had to do was look at Richard Henry the Eighth while he posed there all dripping wet with flowers on him to lift her spirits. Her face held amused concentration while she painted. Of course she had to work quickly, for normally she'd paint for hours. Could he really hold that pose for that long? She wasn't going to be that mean to him.

"So...what else is your mother like? And your sisters? Are they in arranged marriages too?" Myrcella felt compelled to find out more about the family that she was being forced to live with. That is until Richard got his own Estate or Castle...
 
"Now wait a moment!" Richard laughed the pot nearly falling while his head shaking due to the constant sniggering. "I'm supposed to be the one who spouts out gallows humor! One can't simply upstage the Bard! Why I must inform you my dear Myrcella that some people I know become part of the sea where they can sleep with the fishes."

Making light of dark things was something Richard was fond of doing. It helped him cope especially during the many battles he fought in. The more bloody and gory a battle was the more Richard quipped. In a way sometimes Richard wished he'd stay away from gallows humor. All it does make him depressed, especially since his best jokes come at expense of someone's arms hacked off.

"My mother and sisters...…" Richard thought. "My mother is a good woman, she showed me the beauty of life through art. Unlike my father who forced me into martial pursuits, my mother introduced me to singing, painting and how to be a bard. She told me: Be who you are It is easy to be what people think you should be. But great people have risen not because they were the same but because they were unique."

Richard sighed, he wondered if his mother was thinking about him right now. Would she call his abrupt exit to carve out his own path rather than to take the one that was forced upon him wise? Richard wasn't going to be the heir of the Henry Estate since Joshua was older than him and more in line with what his father envisioned. "As for my sisters.... well I'll tell you if you tell me the relationship between you and your sister." Richard grinned. He decided to have fun with Myrcella for a bit, she's not going to have full control of the situation.
 
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Myrcella merely wagged a finger at him while Richard Henry the Eighth nearly lost the vase. "You may be a great Bard, but you're not a good model right now, so hold still!" She chewed onto her bottom lip for a moment as she concentrated. The features on his face had to be just right. And by that she meant near perfect. Sure she could make fun of him with the flowers and the vase for a hat, but it was the face that needed to be recognized.

As he spoke of his mother she merely half listened due to her concentration on her brush strokes. But from what she did hear, she liked. It sounded like she could carry on with her own artwork. That'll at least give her something to do when she wasn't busy plotting.....stuff.

She smirked as he tried to guide the conversation on his own terms. Oh just how much or how little should she tell? Of course Myrcella picked the latter, because why would she make it easy on him? "The relationship between me and my sister? Oh it's quite simple...she's my younger sister. " Myrcella stuck her tongue out at him, then proceeded to continue with her painting.
 
Richard shook his head while he grinned. "Ooohhh quite a tongue on you!" he teased. "I see my verbal jousting has had a profound affect on you. You're becoming like me every day!"

Myrcella Bochanan could perhaps survive the cutthroat politics of nobles and businessman in Elbion. She was very young and naïve but she had potential. Richard just needed to protect her long enough so she can learn. "Well then Myrcella," Richard said. "It's all right, I already know your relationship with your younger sister: Celty? Right? That's her name."

Aside from Myrcella, Richard spent a lot of time with her younger sister: Celty. She was loved having Richard around and he enjoyed making her smile through his songs and occasionally had her play his lute. Richard was good with kids and Celty was no exception. She reminded Richard so much of Catherine in how they run around and play as children. Such fond childhood memories.

"Celty told me that your relationship with is rather poor," Richard said. "According to her not a day goes by without you insulting her and making her life miserable. Words such as: Bossy and mean come to mind and she feels that hate her. I can see why you were purposely vague on your relationship to her."

Jerk thing to say and Richard already wished he didn't say anything, years of using humor and wit to deflect bit him in the bottom...….. again.
 
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"You're shaking your head....So you obviously don't like to listen." Again she smirked at him. Was he always going to be this incorrigible? No doubt Richard Henry the Eighth was doing it just to annoy her. Well, she wasn't about to let him win on that front either!

But then he began to speak about her sister. As he continued with his obvious lies or what she believed to be obvious lies, her movements of the brush on the canvas slowed down while her jaw dropped slightly. "That's not true...And even if it was, well...she'd be happy to be rid of me then, wouldn't she?"

And then another thought crossed her mind. One that she hadn't thought if before. So of course she was quick to express it. "If you two hit it off so well, why don't you marry her instead?" All they had to do was maybe wait a couple of years. Then she'd be free to marry her love, Titus. Yeah, that could work. But only if Richard's Father was patient enough.
 
Might as well speak the truth then, Celty was forthcoming regarding her feelings towards Myrcella. Richard recalled the youngest daughter rejoicing when it was said that Marcella was to leave the Bochnanan residence.

“It’s all true,” Richard said still as a statue. “Celty thought you hated her so much that she was all smiles when you were going to leave. As I recall correctly, Celty said it was her fathers blessing.”

Richard face fell, once again his tongue loves to get in trouble. He just can’t help it. Idiot. “Myrcella clearly I’m not one those dirty old men who prey on 12 year old girls for marriage.” He said. “I can tell you’re plotting to remove yourself from this marriage. Let me tell you. Don’t. Broken Bethroals often lead to bloody wars. I should know I fought in many of them.”
 
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Well at least Richard Henry the Eighth was good enough to stay still this time. Finally he listened. Myrcella continued to paint his portrait, yet her heart was becoming less and less in it as the conversation continued.

For a moment she just stopped. Was she really all that cruel to her sister? Myrcella didn't think so, she didn't see it that way and yet...here she was made to believe otherwise.

Once again she continued painting, her brows furrowing in effort as she tried to keep her focus on her task. If what Richard was saying about broken betrothals and war, well surely his Father was at the head of it. Meaning that she'd be at fault for the loss of many lives if she tried to get what she wanted. "You can't blame a lady for trying...." Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper as it seemed a burden had been placed on her shoulders.

Myrcella set down her brush and paints. "I don't really feel like finishing right now. If you want, you can take a look." She then turned and walked over to the window, staring out of it at nothing in particular while she folded her arms across her chest.

This was just...not fair.
 
Richard Henry is a hypocrite, he warned Mrycella not to break the betrothal because it'll start a war but he ran off from his home because he didn't want to know who he was getting married to. The difference between Mrycella and himself was that Richard was aware of the machinations of the "Grand Game" of politics while Mrycella was sheltered from them. He knew the consequences of not accepting the marriage but he chose to leave anyway. Myrcella is an innocent all she wanted was to be free and pursue her passions just like Richard when he was younger.

Though he wasn't that much older than Myrcella, Richard had more experience with the outside world. He's seen the best of people, the beauty of the world along with its grotesqueries. Richard has mingled with nobles, fought in wars, witnessed bloody pogroms those events left a lot of emotional scars. Still that doesn't out weigh the compassion that people possessed, their love and thirst for knowledge and hope for the future. Richard didn't want to be a prisoner of fate but as the events showed it is inevitable.

He needed to stop running away, his family's fate was at stake, this girl's life at stake. Soon the pit of Vipers will be swarming around Mrycella: A Cintran noble who will be the first marry outside her Kingdom. This marriage could be the beginning of an alliance between Cintra and Elbion. Was that what Richard's father set to accomplish? Richard put the pot down and walked past the painting. He approached Myrcella and hesitantly placed an hand on her shoulder.

"I know what you're thinking," Richard said. "It's not fair, I know how you feel. Really I do, I ran away because I didn't want my life to be controlled as it was since the day I was born."

The Bard Knight sighed. "The Gods put us in this situation," he said. "I didn't want to accept it but I can't escape my duty. We barely know each other Myrcella, but I will do my best to be the husband worthy of you."
 
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Myrcella saw his reflection in the glass as he approached. Not to mention she could hear his footsteps. However she didn't flinch or move away. Instead she wanted to hear what Richard Henry the Eighth had to say.

He touched her and again she didn't flinch or move. Instead she felt it somewhat comforting, placing one of her hands on top of his. Myrcella heard him out, glad in some ways that he was as reluctant in this as she was. However her reasoning for wanting to break the betrothal was for love. While his was...well, different.

"Are you in love with anyone else?" That was opening a can of worms and she knew that. It could potentially reveal her own love for another. Yet she knew full well that noble husbands tend to be unfaithful. The same could be said for some noble wives as well. However Titus would never allow that to happen. And out of her love and respect for her beloved butler, she wouldn't allow it to happen either.
 
Well that caught Richard off-guard.

The Bard Knight was enjoying Myrcella's soft hand touching against his, it was reassurance that she wasn't the only one who felt lost, confused and angry at the fact that their freedom has been taken away from them. Though it was lost the moment they were born none the less, it warmed Richard's heart to see that Myrcella felt a little better now that he poured some of his heart out.

If only if she didn't ask him about his feelings for someone else but it was only natural she asked. Myrcella wanted to know if he would be faithful to her. Richard once again though of his father's and the rumors of lovers he had even though he was still married. A man still has their urges even after they swore an oath to be with their woman and Richard Henry the Seventh is rather infamous for his active sex life before he was bethroed to his wife. Richard the Eighth did wonder how many illegitimate children were running around Arethil unaware that they have noble blood in their veins.

Well at least his father improved in public relations after he married insisting that the rumored affairs that he had were just rumors. Few believed them and Richard did notice that his mother and father were slowly drifting away as he got older coincidentally when the rumors started to be become more common. Where there's smoke there's fire and Richard's father has caused quite the firestorm. "No," Richard responded simply. "I've had some lovers in the past, but it ended up going nowhere. I assure you Mrycella, I'm not father and when we marry I will remain faithful to you."

Words are wind and Richard did wonder sometimes if he was going to end up like his father. So far it doesn't appear that way but Richard always found irritating that he always ends up doing what he asks anyway.
 
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Richard Henry the Eighth had lovers in the past. Hopefully none would come back to haunt them with claims of children. It was all about the timing. Fortunately for Myrcella, she still retained her virtue, so there'd be no bastards coming from her. Nor did she plan on there being any in the future.

She took hold of his hand that held her shoulder and turned on her heel so that she could face him properly instead of just looking to his reflection. Her gaze lifted to meet his own. She had to make the same promise, for both her sake and for Titus. As far as they could tell, her betrothed was a good man and he deserved to be treated in kind. "And I will remain faithful to you too. Though I may be a bit....grumpy for a time, being so far from all that I know. Fair warning, Richard." She gave him a bit of a smile, although she was still filled with much uncertainty over what her future would look like. And their future as a whole.

It was almost scary.
 
Richard chuckled when Myrcella said that she would be grumpy from time to time. Oh boy, there was a saying amongst soldiers that wars were easier to handle than women. Given the rather interesting responses by her ladies in waiting, servants and sister. The Lioness of Cintra seems to be rather fitting nickname for her. Myrcella turned around and gazed at Richard softly, there was an understanding in her deep blue eyes but Richard can't help shake the feeling that Myrcella was hiding something, hopefully there wouldn't be any plotting by her but she there is a steel hidden beneath all that silk.

"Don't worry," Richard said wrapping an arm around Myrcella. "There won't be any bastards coming to our doorstep. I've made sure to stave off any temptations especially given how...… promiscuous my father can be at times."
 
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Myrcella tried not to wince as Richard Henry the Eighth wrapped an arm around her. It wasn't as though he was hurting her or aything, but he was still wet from the vase of water, meaning that she was going to be wet too.

"Your father?..."So it was him that Richard was warning her to keep her ladies away from. Right now his father wasn't sounding like someone she'd enjoy being in the company of. Not only was he potentially threatening to her, but one that could prey on her ladies as well. She couldn't allow that to happen.

"Are there any others in the household that myself or my ladies should be wary of?" Hopefully she had her own wing or some place of sanctuary. Of course the better thing would be to have all of the harmful ones away at war or some battle somwhere. Perhaps that' be something that would happen often.
 
Richard's mouth was getting him in trouble AGAIN. Why did he let that slip that his father has a tendency to be flirtatious with any woman? Thankfully though okay it wasn't really thankful but it won't affect Myrcella or her ladies Richard's father's "alleged" affairs are exclusively among the nobility and NOT his closest allies.

"If you're thinking that your father will creep on you and your ladies then don't worry," Richard responded wiping the water that was dripping from his hair. "My father knows not to mess with the people who are part of the family." Richard's father hated politics preferring to fight on the battlefield, but he did have a talent for them and had the common sense not to hurt the allies closest to him namely House Ackuberry and House Swann.

"No one," Richard said his face falling. "Like I said you're going to be my wife and...." Richard sighed a little still hardly believing that he is accepting what his father has planned for him. "Any problems that we will have we'll face together."
 
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Myrcella breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing that either herself or her ladies needed was to be hounded by the men. They were going to live in a strange land, far from home. It'd be much easier to adjust to the change when one was feeling welcomed, rather than feeling scared.

She looked to Richard Henry the Eighth as he did his best to reassure her. Yet in some small way it seemed as though he was trying to reassure himself too. It was that small sense of doubt in him that made her realize that they were on equal ground in this unpleasant situation.

"Thank you, Richard." Myrcella gave him a hug, one made all the smaller due to him being wet. "Do you think that your Father will have you gone away fighting in many battles?" An honest question. But one that could suggest that she was thinking about many different things.
 
Well they are making progress, Myrcella briefly embraced Richard in a hug. They can get out of this hole their father's dug for them but it's going to take a lot of guile. The Bard Knight then reached for a towel that was on the desk and began to dry himself. To think he lasted that long posing with a flowerpot over his head with cold water too! Men have been in less compromising positions when posing for a painter.

As soon as he was dry, Richard listened to that dreaded question: How often would he be off at war. Richard's father is as addicted to war as a gambling addict. The Henry family were known for their military prowess along with their intellect but they definitely taken a more military approach since the Age of Expansion. "In all honesty," Richard said sighing. "Definitely, It's my father's way of bonding. Don't worry the Henry women are known to be strong whether they're warriors or at home. You'll grow accustomed I'm sure."

Richard though couldn't shake off the feeling that Myrcella has something cooked up.
 
Myrcella listened quietly as Richard Henry the Eighth answered her question. So he'd be off to fight quite frequently, would he? How often would she be left on her own at his home?

"I suppose that I'll find something to do while you're away. Maybe I'll even come back here for a spell while you're away?" There was no harm in that, was there? Especially if Richard was to be gone for months at a time or however long battles were. Myrcella had no idea, outside of learning of some wars in the history books. Some went on for years.

She half expected Richard to tell her no, however. And even if he did, well, it wasn't as though he could stop her when he wasn't there. Once she knew the way, she planned on making use of that knowledge to the fullest.
 
Richard rolled his eyes at Mrycella's statement of running back to her home while he was off fighting wars his father most likely started. He's finally found someone who's as stubborn as he is the Gods have a sick sense of humor. Richard would be laughing at this if it weren't for the fact that he didn't even know why this marriage was arranged. If only Richard didn't run off the moment that his father told him that he was to be betrothed.

"Oh that's a idea!" Richard said cheerily. "While you're at it perhaps you should take a trip to the land of chocolates and lemoncakes! It's just around the corner to Flying Pig mountain!"

Richard then sighed heavily, he really needs to stop snarking. "Myrcella," he said with a heavy heart. "Once you set foot aside from the occasional visit your life will be as a Henry. You will represent the family interests and do what's expected as lady of House Henry."

The Bard Knight then leaned back against the wall. "I tried to escape my fate same," he said. "I've seen new lands, fought people and made friends. But at the end of the day my duty is a part of me. No matter how hard I try. My mother was wrong we are chained to fate but through fate lies hope, a hope that we can make the most out of this marriage."
 
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Even though she half expected Richard Henry the Eighth to say no, she didn't expect him to come up with such a sarcastic retort. It was almost mean with how he seemed to dash her hopes and dreams.

Myrcella folded her arms across her chest as Richard leaned against the wall. And what's to be expected of a Lady of House Henry, she wondered? She was a foreigner. Surely that'd be all that people could see for a long time.

"I will try to...fulfill my duty. In the meantime I think I shall retire for the night. Good day." Oh she had much to think about and much to plan. If there was some way out of this eithout causing a war, she'd find it.