overdressed, overeducated

"Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic." Rahul Provos ♦ 24 ♦ Couturier ♦ Telky ♦ Provos House Heir

[decadentlonging]

luckyenigma

There it was.  The words hung in the air like a stagnant smell, like something that you wanted to ignore but simply couldn’t moved past.  Az wasn’t sure what he was expecting, coming here like this, and imagining they could get by the whole evening without some sort of passive attack at one another, despite how well-behaved he’d promised himself he’d be.  A small voice in the back of his mind whispered Rahul hadn’t intended it to be a jab, that they hadn’t meant it to pick a fight, but the sensitivity of freshly re-opened wound didn’t allow him to listen to something like logic or reason and move past it quickly enough for the damage to go unnoticed.

He looked anywhere but at Rahul, who, he’d forgotten had the ability to make him feel enamored and furious all in the same moment.  Arms crossed, all he could illicit was a sigh as he chewed on the other’s words.  However heartless you believe me to be.  Az never once thought they were heartless, he simply wished– well, it didn’t matter what he wished.  He had learned years and years ago to not dwell on useless things like wishes or dreams– and his….adventure…with Rahul had only cemented that belief system.  He kicked himself for letting himself think, even for as brief as a moment as it was, that things between them might be different.  No matter the political environment, no matter what magic powers Az’s body had decided to develop, Rahul was still Rahul.  

“Well, I’m sorry for concerning myself for putting you in a situation you might not rather be in.” He finally clipped, shifting his weight uncomfortably and staring intently at his feet.  He suddenly felt far more exposed than he had moments ago– all the confidence he’d had wiped away the instant they’d put words in his mouth.  He yearned to correct them, but what was the point?  He wasn’t staying long, after all, and once he was gone again he probably wouldn’t be welcomed back.  “I supposed I’d forgotten about your addiction to taking in strays.”

It should have been a joke, a well-mannered poke at the kindness and sincerity Rahul carried that made Az fall— care for them in the first place, but he’d never gotten around to adjusting the tone of his voice, or even casting them a smile.  “Sorry,”  he tacked on, forcing himself to relax even slightly, for he didn’t want to make his stay unbearable for either of them. “It’s been a…taxing few days since I’ve been back.” The implication of their fight of the ball was included in that statement but he decided to let that stay unspoken. “I’ll take whatever you have laying around and then I’ll stay out of your hair.  I’m sure I interrupted.”

One of the quotidian hazards of being Rahul Provos was ruffling feathers with even the most benign of statements; they were so used to people taking their rather unorthodox air at face value that making others upset barely hit their radar. As a child they had always wondered, in the way that clever and inconsiderate children do, why anyone bothered to be polite to others. Especially when others were so utterly tedious, unable to understand the intricacies of their own conversations. Age had taught Rahul courtesy, and now they put up with even the most dreadful of company without allowing themself to become too acerbic, for the most part.

Azariah was far from dreadful company, though his presence was confusing, to say the least. Once more clothed, standing in the center of the room like a finely wrought statue, he exuded nothing but conflict and other emotions Rahul was not emotionally intelligent or available enough to parse through. At the very least, they knew they had caused the new problem by bringing up old wounds as if they were merely jokes in poor taste. It was the sort of conversational faux pas they ought to know better than to let slip. They allowed themself a look at him, his face tight as he, too, tried his best to be civil. He certainly was not wrong about Rahul’s habit of extending help to those who crossed their path, though... They didn’t recall having such a habit before Ri had been part of their life.

Az. That’s what he prefers. Ri is no longer an option.

Their face remained impassive, more or less, at his words. “You do not have to apologize to me,” they said, their words laced with...something. Something genuine. The part of their mind that had been nurtured by Sofiya’s forward-thinking nature knew that they could never hope to understand the kind of stress Azariah worked under on a daily basis--and that was before personal entanglements and royal decrees were involve. “Nor will I make you leave. It isn’t safe out there for you, and you are already here.”

“Do not mistake this for pity, please,” they added, not quite able to hold his gaze, though they did at least try. Sofiya was gone now, so who was out there to protect Reds and Newbloods from their nonsensical ruler and his devious cronies? “Though you are a scoundrel, a fact I believe you are rather proud of, you deserve better than a cell or an observation room. I...suppose I think quite highly of you, and I would feel ashamed if I let you leave and something happened.” I would much rather you not leave, as well.

That was so many words and feelings all at once, without any prior thought or planning on their part, that they found themself swallowing down a suddenly dry throat and floundering without another word on their lips. Their mask slipped momentarily. They watched Az, taking in his drawn forehead, his familiar eyes, the graceful slopes of his face and shoulders. Az had left once, and it had been difficult in ways Rahul could not articulate even to themself--not that they had ever tried telling anyone else. Not even Sofiya. And Sofiya was another matter too, now; leaving so abruptly for war like she had, leaving them...alone again. Until Az had shown up, almost serendipitously, except fate was a cruel puppeteer and they weren’t certain how to wrest control of their heartstrings.

Clearing their throat, they resorted to their typical detachment, waving a hand at Az dismissively before dragging it through their hair. “Stay, please, at least until there is a better place to hide you.” They turned away even as they invited him, their eyes darting back to the letter they had been drafting before their soaked guest’s arrival. Dear sister, I have never before cared about the war effort, and now I find myself unable to sort together the right words to ask about it at events...

Sighing, they folded the paper in half delicately and set it aside, a sure sign they despised every stroke their pen had taken across the page. Apparently they had no idea how to talk to anyone at all--not their former lover, not their sister, and who else was really part of their life?

[decadentlonging]

luckyenigma

“I’m trying to keep it contained, and not wring it anywhere, quit overre–” But the rest of the thought died muffled in the towel that had been shoved at his face, hiding the smile that had widened at Rahul’s obvious once over, and wider still at the immediate frustration that followed.  Well, at least I’ve still got that going for me.  The thought caused the smile to linger as he set to task at drying himself, running the fluffy terrycloth over his face and hair first before running it over his arms and chest.  He made a point not to check to see if Rahul was watching, clearly it frustrated them that the attraction was still there.  The action had been entirely innocent, but they’d never believe that, so he let the topic drop.

Their next words had surprised him.  Too long he’d been separated from his ex-lover, it seemed, as he’d fully anticipated a backlash for the jab at the king.  Agreement was the last thing he expected, but he was never one to linger on the unexpected.  Particularly when they’d managed to go this entire time without their conversation deteriorating into a fight– so he wasn’t about to be the one squander such a gift. “You took the words right out of my mouth.” He finally admitted, balling the shirt up inside the towel, and bending to wipe the floor were it and he had dripped.  “It’s been hard enough, lately, doing what I do.  The atmosphere for tricks and deception just got much more difficult.”

He eyed the clothes as Rahul selected each piece, face twisting into a confused expression. It was a clothing shop, sure, but most things were made specific to each guest– and he was hardly the same size as his host reluctant host.  “I’m surprised you’d still have something that’d fit me.” He commented, eyeing Rahul carefully and pulling the on the shirt.  It felt soft and warm against his still clammy skin, the sensation sending gooseflesh up his arms.  Or was that the fault of the company?

“Trust me, if I was hoping to relive the past, I’d not have wasted so much time with all this needless conversation.”  He smiled again, though he didn’t try to bury the sadness that came with it.  Reminiscing their past dalliances were hardly what he wanted to be doing.  Being here with all the familiar smells and sounds of the shop were difficult enough.  “In truth, I thought you’d turn me away– for more than one reason.  I don’t want to put you in danger, I just… I’ve not been in Archeon for so long with an announcement like this, I just couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”

The simpler subjects were somehow much more complicated to address than the somewhat sharp-tongued criticisms they had led with; Rahul should have known better than to attempt to grapple with things such as compliments and feelings. It never ended well, certainly not when this particular shadow from a former life was involved. How were they to explain that they had designed several new pieces only to decide one man alone would ever deserve to wear them, and then proceeded to make them anyway? What would it mean to tell Azariah they could never forget his measurements--how could he hear that and react in any positive manner?

Instead, the response was clipped, accentuated by a quick flick of their wrist that sent every open drawer snapping shut. “I have plenty that will fit you.” They refrained from editorializing on how well the clothes in question would suit such a beautifully sculpted body, and from adding snide commentary about Az knowing full well where the dressing rooms were located and still choosing to change right in the middle of the room. Both would only clue him in to their lingering attraction yet again, and that was a small humiliation they refused to endure.

Yet, in some ways the subject came up anyway. Rahul eyed him silently as he brushed against their shared past and quickly moved on, yet managed to not quite leave it behind. Briefly they wondered what the moment would have been without the needless conversation he described, but only briefly. It was too dangerous a rabbit hole to follow. Instead they found themself caught on the rest of his words and how jarring they were to hear. “Put me in danger?” they asked as they turned to face him, unable to move past the words. “That should be the least of your concerns. I am at nowhere near the sort of risk you are in this situation, and I can offer some amount of relief from that risk because of it.” They hesitated for a fraction of a second--somehow, extending help made them feel raw, like their throat had been scrubbed relentlessly of all reluctance to be generous--before adding: “So of course I will offer that to you, regardless of...other factors. However heartless you believe me to be, I would not turn you out.” Loaded words between the two of them, but it felt necessary to get them out of the way.

Naturally, it was easier to breeze past that topic and back into criticism of current events, so in the interest of protecting themself as always, they did just that. “Even if you are a lawless scoundrel,” they said, their voice utterly soaked in deadpan sardonicism, “you ought to have the freedom to be as much of one as you like, without an entire subgroup of the population hunting you down because of one incredibly poorly thought out decree.” Just the thought made them roll their eyes; what had the king been thinking, really? That all of society could be magically changed with some pretty words and promises? “I always expect the worst of his idiocy is over, and then he throws another party or makes another announcement, and the downward spiral continues in spectacular fashion.”

[decadentlonging]

diemhynson

Diem was nervous about the crowd because it was hard to tell where their minds were. She knew silvers who would be indifferent if not happy to see reds getting more rights and she had also dealt with silvers who would hate to have reds on an even playing field. The crowd was in a state of shock at the time. It seemed like they were trying to figure out if the king’s words were true or if the announcement and demonstration were merely a way to keep the silver in line.

It was easy to get lost in a crowd, but Diem felt like she was standing out from the rest. She knew silvers in the crowd. She knew that they knew her name from when she arrived at their doorstep with dresses for them to wear to one occasion then throw away. Even with the security of Rahul, Diem was worried about what would happen if one of those people were not as pleased to hear about the changes. Luckily, her worries were calmed slightly when she felt a piece of fabric drape over her head and shoulder like a covering or hood. She knew it was a disguise that wouldn’t last forever, but she was still grateful for the temporary relief from ant wandering eyes that could be directed towards her.

Diem nodded slightly at Rahul’s request. She was grateful for their help. There were some other silvers that would not bother helping a newblood escape from an increasingly restless crowd. Diem couldn’t help but wonder about the king as she followed them towards the estate. Would the king be targeted as well? Is he proud of his announcement or is he filled with regret? She couldn’t imagine what ran through his head.

Diem didn’t realize she was lagging behind until she watched Rahul slow down and wait for her. She wanted to be more alert, but her mind was racing around trying to process everything that just happened. She listened to their question and had to think for a moment. She wanted to say everyone, even those she didn’t know, but knew that was too much of a request. Instead, she spoke the name of the person she was closest to that was apparently like her. “Melody.” She didn’t even stop and think about if Rahul knew the chef. “Everyone else to, I suppose, but her especially.”

Melody--the name was familiar, though not remarkably, and Rahul had to think to find some recollection of her. Dark hair, warm eyes, the daintiest features ever found on a human being. The one from the Room of Mirrors who had eased some small fraction of their emotional torment. The one who was surely being sought out and protected by Kassiopea Nolle and Octavian Rhambos, each a deadly shield on their own. “I know of at least two Silvers who will stop at nothing to protect her,” they told Diem, hoping but doubting their words were even somewhat reassuring. “Any information I get from them, I will pass along to you.”

If only every Red had a Silver like those two at their sides. Kass had been livid at the announcement, and rightly so, but something in her ferocity struck a small flame of doubt at the back of their mind. She spoke of protecting the Reds, but that duty seemed an impossible one. With Silvers as divided as they were over whether or not others deserved even the smallest of rights, mustering the manpower to protect so many would be difficult at best. And there were those like Rahul, who might not care about the politics of it all, who might only feel connected to the struggle by a few close friends, but whose talents were hardly geared toward such blatant combat either way. What of them? What could they do other than steer one or two others away from the fighting?

But, doubts or no, they had decided to help Diem get to assured safety, so they would do just that. Glancing at the street around them, Rahul gestured for her to follow as they took up a brisk stride, not enough to attract much attention but plenty to pick up the pace on their route. The streets further from the palace were mostly empty; soon there was no one in sight, and they had to push themself to relax into a less alert speed.

“Wherever you would be most comfortable, we can go,” they said, looking to the side at Diem as the broke the silence between them. Their first thought had been to their own residence, but she was the one affected.

[wnq-writers]

Red and gold the color of blood and other fine things.

c.m.v, Scarlet and Cold (via wnq-writers)

[decadentlonging]

nyssc

Thoughts of the wedding, and that part of the announcement, seemed to be nothing but a distraction and it angered her even further to think Orion would use his own sister’s happiness to draw eyes away from the revolutionary announcement he’d made. Once clear of a majority of the crowd, in a street not far away from the palace, she turned to face Rahul and her own stature had changed entirely. Nyssa knew how to put on an act, she had spent her life doing nothing but. Away from ears and eyes and in front of a person she was almost certain she could trust to either help or be apathetic she gave her true face and it was angry and afraid but not for the reasons one might think.

“Rahul, what he’s done is throw a match on an ocean of pitch. Orion just incited the beginnings of a war.” Her words could count for treason, punishment would easily and swiftly come for her if Rahul were to betray her confidence. “And while I was unaware of newbloods before this afternoon I certainly won’t stand by and watch Silvers harm them. Our society needs change, it needs want Orion wants but he isn’t doing it in a way that could keep all of his people safe. I don’t even care about Crownstrial anymore, helping the Reds, the newbloods—call me a traitor but I’m going to find a way to do something better.”

She was out of breath when she finally closed her mouth, a weight lifted now she’d said it out loud. If Rahul didn’t like her words, didn’t agree then she’d be in prison in hours but she truly had no concern for her own safety beyond not being able to do anything if she were locked up. Orion had ideals she agreed with but this wasn’t the way, this was going to end in bloodshed and war and she would make herself a soldier if needed.

In a moment, Nyssa Samos changed entirely.

Away from most (though likely not all) prying eyes, she turned on her heel and transformed from a docile Elite lady into something dynamic. Silver into steel. In that moment alone she captured Rahul’s full attention, for how could they ignore so sudden a drastic a change? She needn’t have spoken at all for them to understand her message: this version of Nyssa, which they imagined was the real one underneath every veil of civility and cultivated grace, was ready to prove herself a force to be reckoned with.

How interesting it was, to see someone else remove their mask for a change.

They watched her as she spoke, their gaze never wavering until she had finished; then they spared a glance at the street around them. No one seemed to pay the pair any mind, but one could never be sure. “You must be more careful,” they said, voice idle as if she hadn’t just dropped every shocking thought she could muster in one breath. As if discussing the weather, or Silver gossip--anyone who listened in now might assume it was just that and nothing more. “Not too many of our fellows are sympathetic to such ideas. Most Reds will be wary of those of us who are.” 

They caught her gaze again, eyeing her with newfound intrigue plain on their face, and then like a gentleman at a ball (not a blood traitor fleeing a conflicted crowd) they offered her their elbow. “If you do not have any objections, we can take this conversation to the privacy of my atelier. It seems there is much on your mind that anyone with an eye for true intellect would be honored to have a chance to discuss with you.” The young Lady Samos just made herself much, much more interesting--and Rahul was not about to waste a prime opportunity to see what else she had hidden beneath her facade.

[decadentlonging]

nyssc

There had been nothing but veiled interactions and genuine compliments ( from her to them) but Nyssa felt confident in replying to their seemingly random query. A more serious conversation had not taken place, it had been all gowns and fabrics before now and she was—pleased was the wrong word indeed but she felt no need to bite her tongue or keep up appearances anymore so she didn’t. “I used to, but now I’m convinced he left his brain in his rooms somewhere and can’t find it.” She would have laughed if it weren’t so serious.

“Do you believe this will end well, in any way? Even the wedding seems frought with possible disaster, though it should be a happy moment. To be honest though, I wonder how the Princess and her guard came to be in love.” She had not known love, any kind, herself and all of it made her very sad and very curious.

“We should, perhaps, take this conversation elsewhere though, Laird Provos.” she suggested, beginning to move out of the crowd and wondering, and hoping, they would follow. She always valued their comments and she knew they were one of few people in the kingdom that had not left their brain in their rooms, under a pile of dirty clothing or clutter.

Nyssa’s train of thought as it followed the tracks laid by Orion’s wedding announcement was so much a tangent to Rahul’s line that they almost looked at her with bewilderment. What a Silver thing to say. Rahul could not recall wondering how Calder and Adeline had found love together, nor even when it was that they realized what was between the two--but they were not the most adept at such aspects of life. Asking Calder Gliacon how he had fallen in love seemed like the most effective way to lose hours to a stilted, flowery, choked-up description of butterflies and sweaty palms and whatever other cliche one could imagine.

Still, they followed her on an unidentifiable whim, maybe just to escape the crowd for company they could better endure. “I am not sure an ending is the true worry,” they said after a moment of consideration. This was, after all, not exactly the beginning. Orion had already set himself apart as the vibrant newcomer king bent on changing everything about society; the Scarlet Guard had already moved forward toward rebellion, and the Silver Elite had always stubbornly held their ground. This had begun long before them.

“If nothing else, this will simply up the stakes. Newbloods pose a new and unanticipated threat to Silver power. They will likely be targets of extermination and recruitment in equal measure.” Rahul shrugged, something weary already settling into their chest. “Reds will face heightened suspicion and all the accompanying dangers. We will have our names tarnished by those among us who choose to be on the wrong side of history. I doubt we will see whatever end comes of any of this, Lady Samos.”

[decadentlonging]

luckyenigma

Az certainly hadn’t know what to expect when he’d made the conscious decision to go the shop– in fact he focused very hard on not playing out the multiple bad outcomes that could have occurred– so when all he received was a curt fine he immediately relaxed.  Coming here had been a last ditch effort to at least attempt to control some bits of his world from completely falling apart– he couldn’t help but be relieved that he didn’t make his night worse.

He smiled to himself at the threat, knowing full well it was anything but idle.  He moved to follow as instructed but the squelch of his boots on the ornate flooring made him cringe.  Before taking another, he bent to pull them both off, along with his hooded jacket which he balled and propped on top of them to minimize the spread of puddle that was already forming.  He skipped a bit after Rahul in an attempt to catch up, peeling the shirt that felt painted on from his chest and up over his head.  

“Yes, sorry, unfortunately my no longer secret and quite blasphemous powers do not involve being a human sponge.”  He laughed proudly at his own jest to masking the malice that boiled in his stomach at the king’s announcement.  As if he needed a reason to hate the man more– well, he certainly wasn’t doubting his current rebellious entanglements today.  Though a voice in the back of his mind questioned that, asking him why he’d run to a Silver for aid when he had a whole rebellion that could, and would protect him. He shoved the question aside, as he did most of his self-doubts.

“I assume you were at the palace?” He asked, balling up the stripped and soaked shirt into a tight ball in a sad attempt to control the dripping.  Catching a passing glance at himself in a mounted mirror he frowned at his sad appearance, pausing to run a hand through his damp hair.  Mussing it up in stiff spikes than looking at it matted to his forehead like a stray mutt.   It was the best he was going to be able to work with at the moment, so he turned his attentions back to Rahul. “Was it absolute mayhem?  Must be hard to discover those metallic veins don’t mean much anymore.”  The snide comment wasn’t meant for present company, but just to ensure that point was received he quickly changed the moved on.   “Your royal highness is out of his mind.”

Resisting the urge to whip around at the maddening sound of wet shoes on hardwood, Rahul led the way through the entrance room and up the double steps to the dais their display table sat atop. It was a moot point, taking the lead at all; unless he had somehow forgotten the past couple of years, Azariah knew where the dressing rooms were. He still knew where everything was, in all likelihood, since he had spent so many lazy hours loitering around looking for amusement.

Easier days, those had been. At least at first.

They paused momentarily when he brought up the subject hanging over their heads of his own accord--Azariah, a newblood? Apparently he was admitting to it. Did that mean they could ask? How would one even inquire about such a thing? So what do you do, exactly-- It felt so abrupt. They turned to him, mistakenly assuming the right words might come if they attempted to play nice, but instead came face to face with a water-slick and very bare torso. A very pleasing torso it was; their eyes roamed its angles unabashed, a spectator alone in a fine art gallery, until they remembered who it was standing before them. Then the scowl reappeared.

“I thought I was very clear about the water,” they said, eyes flicking to the shirt in Az’s hand, then back to his, highlighting their point. “If you could simply wait two seconds, you wouldn’t feel the need to wring your clothes out all over my floor.” Hissing a breath from between their teeth they turned away again, rolling their eyes at his words and his gall and his infuriatingly beautiful body. Whatever you are trying to do, it will not work on me. The words never left their mind, however; instead, as they tracked down the drawer they wanted, a cabinet above their head opened as if of its own accord, and a towel plucked by an invisible hand was tossed unceremoniously at Az’s smug face.

His last words did not miss their mark, however, and Rahul’s ire turned yet again to the king. “Not so much mayhem as the beginning of something sinister,” they muttered, sifting through silks as they spoke. “King Orion certainly loves his ham-fisted decisions. It is as if he is somehow unaware of how cruel and sadistic Silvers can be, or perhaps blissfully ignorant of the fact that his royal decrees mean nothing without a contingency plan.” Finding the suit they wanted, they lifted it from its resting place with gentle hands, scanning the soft linen shirt and rich plum jacket before shooting a look over their shoulder at their newest ward. “Do you want clothes, or was your plan to waltz in and disrobe as if we have traveled backwards in time?”

[decadentlonging]

eiraxjacos

         Somewhere far, far at the back of Eira’s mind, she knew that King Orion’s decision to publicly declare that Silvers were no longer fully rule Archeon wasn’t all unicorns and fairytale endings, but she couldn’t help but be one of the rare ones in the crowd trying to bite back a grin. She thought of her friends, the people she met, Finn, all the people who one day would no longer even have to think about bowing down to her just because Silver ran through her veins. She thought of what new powers could emerge from these new bloods, what great things the kingdom would be able to achieve if they somehow managed to get along and work together, the Red-versus-Silver divide shattering right before their eyes.

         Impossible? Perhaps. But this was a great step in the right direction, and Eira was feeling positive that day, so.

         However, she wasn’t blind to the fact that there were, very clearly, others who weren’t feeling so optimistic about it. All around her were groups of Silvers gossiping and grumbling as they began to shuffle around aimlessly (or maybe they were heading somewhere. Eira wasn’t following.). That was probably why one person stood out against the rest — they were only talking to the skies. She couldn’t help but titter at their comment, brushing past them as she walked past. “I’m hoping he does. I have no reason not to have faith in him, and I think he’s making a great first step towards equality.” A brief pause. “Attempting to, at least. Though you don’t seem to share similar sentiments…?” she wondered casually.

Alerted to the woman by her response, Rahul’s eyes fell down from the sky to alight on Eira Jacos. A kind little specimen, her hopefulness made sense. She was still relatively new to the politics of the city, not yet cynical of the maneuverings of her fellow Silvers. They wondered, momentarily, what that was like--sometimes it seemed they had spend their whole life jaded, and nothing the king or anyone else did every proved them wrong for that opinion.

“It would be a great first step if there were any planned path ahead of him,” they responded. “I have no doubt his intentions are good. But, what is the next step?” One hand sweeping out, they gestured at the crowd around them. Reds and Silvers had mingled until moments before; now the crowd was splitting, each person seeking out the comfort of their own kind. “Will Red soldiers leave the front behind if they are no longer compelled to serve? Will Silvers refuse to give up their servants? This equality cannot function without sacrifice, but whose sacrifice will it be?”

Their hand dropped to their side  and they regarded their conversation partner again, taking in her attire, her stance, the youthfulness in her cheeks and optimism in her eyes.Silvers like her were the key to real progress toward equality, but so few could be considered like her. “And what of the people whose names were just broadcast to the world?” they continued. “Silvers like us already plot against one another every day--these special Reds, and in fact, any Red at all who poses a potential threat to our power, are now in danger. Who is to protect them if an Elite House goes after them?”

[decadentlonging]

diemhynson

It was times like these that Diem wondered if she would’ve been better off back in her village. She knew she would probably face backlash there as well due to the silver guards that roamed around, but being in the thick of silver society made her feel as though she grew a giant target on her back. She felt exposed, especially while hovering around her stand out in the open. She felt like at any moment a mob of angry silvers would come upon her and she would be swallowed whole by the masses. She just didn’t understand why exactly the king felt the need to say all of their names. The reveal alone would’ve caused trouble. but now that the silvers who disagree with the announcement have a list of names to go along with it there was no guarantee that things would end well.

It was strange to hear so many names on the list that she knew. Melody? Tate? Jack? Isla? Az? It was a warming feeling to know she knew people going through the same thing as her, but it was also alarming because she had more people to worry about than just herself.

She wondered why Isla never told her, but figured it was just one of the multitude of secrets they kept from each other. It also made her wonder how the king got a list of names. Diem herself hardly knows about her powers, so how could he? It was alarming to think of some of the other powers out there.

Diem scanned the area for a familiar face when she locked eyes with Rahul. She wondered what they were thinking about in the moment. She knew they were aware newbloods existed when she helped out with Jack, but she hoped they weren’t annoyed or anything regarding her not telling them about her powers. Diem would’ve told them, but she barely understood her power herself. She focused on the silver as they spoke. She couldn’t find her voice quite yet,so instead she merely nodded her head yes at their request. Diem didn’t want to be in the market place any longer. For a bit the silvers would try to wrap their brains around the news, and Diem didn’t want to stay around when the true emotions they’re suppressing appear.

Relieved that Diem agreed so quickly, Rahul returned her nod, their eyes sweeping over her, her stall, and the people moving around them. Though they knew a good number of Silvers who would react at least mostly favorably to the idea of more, if not equal, rights for Reds, this crowd had been shocked and could easily work up a frenzy among those of more extreme opinions. 

That was without mentioning the newblood aspect, too; getting Diem somewhere else, anywhere with less people who might point her out as one of the names from the list, was most important. Looking back toward her, a streak of color behind her caught their eye. Their eyes narrowed slightly, an idea forming. A long swath of green silk snaked into the air; it took little concentration for them to guide the scarf, draping it over her hair and across both shoulders to cover her and shade her eyes. It was a makeshift hood, nothing fancy--though they couldn’t help but notice it framed her face nicely--and meant only to provide her some small protection until she was safe without it.

“Come,” they said, for once their voice soft enough to be a request rather than a demand. They started down the street, away from the crowd and toward their family’s estate, though they were careful to stay close to Diem’s side so she did not lose them. They were hopelessly inadequate protection for her except as an extra body, and perhaps as a Silver to vouch for her, but if they could provide even that for her, they would. She could not be the next Isla because the king had not thought of the inborn cruelty of the noble classes.

Catching sight of her face and slowing for a moment, they searched for something to say that might reassure her. They could offer her some safety and no unnecessary questions, but her eyes were glazed in a look that told them she was still too stunned to truly process. If only Sofiya were here. “Is there anyone you are worried about?” they asked, intent on her expression to gauge her reaction. “I can keep my ears open, if there is any chance someone I know has an eye on them in the days to come.” 

[decadentlonging]

herbclist

       Even as she pushed her way through the crowd, worry threatened to consume her very being. She scanned the large crowd, looking for even a glimpse of the New Bloods she knew. In that moment, she wanted to wrap them in her arms and guide them to safety. Now, of all times, she couldn’t abandon them even if Atticus insisted she go to safety.

       At their words, she stopped her search. “ I’d like to think our noble king has a plan thought out after his declaration. It’s still reckless, however. He’s caused mass panic and put the New Bloods in danger. ” She sighed. Her time in the Scarlet Guard taught her that people, especially Silvers, reacted poorly to anything different than them. Thoughts of the future attacks and strife that the New Bloods would face. The consequences would be innumerable From the perch of his ignorance, the king remained blind to the severe consequences his words. “ Red blood already stains the history of Norta. I hope King Orion is prepared to accept that he has directly added more blood to that total today. ”

       Since she joined the Scarlet Guard, she knew the violence that would come with equality. Yet, she expected the battle to be handled with more finesse rather than to be simply declared one day. Laws needed to be made and protections ensured. To simply stand with guards on all sides and say that today equality would start before offering so much as a plan signaled failure at best and violence at worst. “ Would it be too idealistic to hope he has a plan that he chose not the reveal to the public? Otherwise, this is all more than a little short-sighted. ”

The woman who responded was a Red Rahul had no recollection of seeing before (hers was a face they would remember, after all) and a dozen possible responses for. She must carry a courageous heart, to be both optimistic and willing to speak her mind to just anyone this way. Lucky for her, they were not the breed of Silver to take offense at her words.They shook their head, taking a moment to eye the people around them for any sign that they would react.

“Idealistic is one word to use,” they said dryly. “The king tends to act on his feelings rather than with any sort of structure in place, so it seems.” It made sense, based on the day’s show; to pull two vulnerable people onto a stage, parade them like trick-learning dogs, and then reveal their identities to the public at large, along with everyone else like them, seemed the actions of a man who felt nothing but sympathy for those people and yet could not fathom others would not respond in kind. 

Did he realize what he had done? Did he make this announcement knowing the possible dangers and hoping to combat them, or would the inevitable violence come as a shock? “Whether or not he even realizes whose fates he has sealed is dubious at best. Knowing my kind, it is only practical to assume all Reds are in danger now, regardless of their abilities.” They locked eyes with the woman, aware that she, too, fell into that category. That was what equality without infrastructure would mean, no matter the good of the idea--Reds could try to claim their newfound equality, but Silvers would resist. Lines would be drawn, people would find themselves split. “I am no expert in matters of safety, but I imagine any opportunity Reds can find protection, they should take, and soon.”

[jacalynblake]

location ;; outdoors date ;; 04/24, 6:00 a.m. status ;; open

     Jack wasn’t entirely certain if the events from the previous day had actually occurred or were instead a product of her worst nightmare, being called out in front of the people she admired and the ones who admired her for being something different and strange. But she knew it wasn’t a merely a product of an overactive imagination constantly thinking about the worst possible thing that could happen after what had already happened. She knew she had been outed as one of the New Bloods yesterday in front of people who would likely kill her before welcoming her wings with open arms. 

      It was far too early to be awake, but nevertheless, she found herself repeating the morning ritual that she’d been partaking in the past months, though she had had troubles with it during the past weeks. She’d wake up early to gather a few morsels of food and a small bowl of water to take to the cat who had wormed its way into her heart. Jack knew she’d been neglecting the small creature in the wake of what had happened, but she had been trying to avoid everyone. It was difficult to hide wings from people without looking like she had some sort of deformity. But now people knew, and though she didn’t necessarily want to advertise them, it was time to start living. While she still could, at least. 

      “You still love me, right?” she asked the cat, though he seemed more concerned with the food than her. She sighed, sitting down on the ground to wait for the cat to finish. “At least I don’t have to try to hide my wings behind Rahul’s name now.” 

[decadentlonging]

Often restlessness plagued Rahul at night, but on the night of the announcement and between the absence of their sister and the unforeseen guest in their home, it only worsened. Staying awake hunched over their bedroom desk until sunlight filtered in through the gossamer curtains had done the trick, though they had shifted between designs and books and various other ways to occupy their mind. When soft yellow light hit their face they straightened in their chair, sighing aloud at the soreness in their shoulders. That would only serve to ruin their day if they let it.

Disinterested in holing up in the family library only to be found by Azariah, or worse, a relative, they stood and began to wander, no true aim in sight. The stroll took on a life of its own, taking Rahul out the front entrance and off the estate, down the roads of the city, through areas frequented by others of all blood types. They slowed only when they heard a familiar voice utter their name, catching sight of Jacalyn Blake sitting in the rays of the dawn.

She must be a brave woman, they mused. Jack was by far the most visible of all the newbloods, with lush wings curving out of the flesh and bone of her back like a statue of old; before the previous day’s events, she was already a target of unwanted attention from Silvers with nothing better to do than fear and hate. Now, though she no longer needed to hide her wings, she was in perhaps a far worse position than ever before. “You do not have to,” they responded softly, giving away their presence, “but you still have the option to.”

[decadentlonging]

theosgreco

When Theo wandered over to the market today, the last thing he expected was that announcement. Reds with abilities? Max having a wedding? Talk of equality between the reds and silvers? It was a lot to process in such a short amount of time. Theo had been through intense announcements before, after all every announcement on the battle field was usually one of the deceased, but this was a whole other level.

It made Theo have to wonder about how his people would react to the news. He found himself more intrigued than anything about the new abilities the reds possessed, but he knew most of the silvers were more traditional than anything else and would not be pleased with the potential of losing their hold on the reds.

Theo was knocked out of his train of thought when he heard Rahul speak. He couldn’t tell if they were speaking to him directly or just speaking aloud, but he spoke up anyways. “I don’t believe he does.” He commented. Theo had nothing against the king, he had plenty of dinners with him and his family, but sometimes it seemed like he didn’t think his announcements through. Theo remembered how badly people reacted to the crownstrial changes, and it seemed like that was the reaction he was gonna receive from his speech as well.

Thelonious Greco was not the sort of person Rahul would have expected to agree so quickly with their pessimistic outlook on the king and his decrees, but then again, it was already a day for surprises. Why not one more? 

Dark eyes sweeping over him, they responded first with a huff that was almost a scoff, if only they had the energy for even derisive humor. “Every name on that list now requires some sort of protection--most every Red here, too--and yet somehow I have a feeling that level of foresight escaped our great ruler,” they said, sarcasm lacing their words. The oversight of the century, it seemed. Orion had been trained for his position, he must have had some wits about him--so where were they now? They shook their head, looking around at the crowd before catching Theo’s eyes again.

“If only there were more of us who did not see these sorts of changes as threatening.” Would they completely alter life as they knew it? Of course. Rahul knew better than anyone what the possibility of elimination of the ruling class could mean for someone like them, who worked in a luxury industry; just as well, they knew what the possibilities of an entire market of newly-empowered people could be. But without a system in place to support such a transition, no change would actually occur. Reds would be left stuck in their position, with new rights they would find inaccessible, while the opportunities they ought to have escaped them. All because the Elite could not fathom a life in which they had to work for their status. “Then, perhaps they could actually happen.”

[luckyenigma-blog]

DATE || april 23rd LOCATION || rahul’s shop STATUS || Closed to @decadentlonging

   Az has always hated the rain.  Everyone he had known seemed to adore the wet weather for one reason or another– the smell, the ambiance, the sounds– he just found it to be a nuisance more than anything.  Especially now, on top of everything else.  On top of having his name– his real name– broadcast nationally on television.  On top of becoming a target to every passerby on the street.  On top of having to dress like a Red errand boy with his hood pulled low over his face to blend in among the mayhem that he’d hear through the open doors of every tavern and pub he passed.

   He found his destination by instinct rather than sight.  This time, however, hesitation didn’t stop him from crossing the threshold, nor did the late hour or closed sign on the door.  The room was dim but as beautifully lit as he remembered it, and he did his best not to plop puddles wherever he stepped–though he quickly discovered that was probably a lost cause. He’d made sure not to rush through the heavy drips– no need to make himself appear more suspicious.  But as a result his clothes and boots were entirely soaked through.

   With a sigh, he braced the for the worst and pushed his hood back, turning his attentions to the shop owner perched behind the counter.  His lips turned into an honest and somewhat sad smile– despite the fight conversation they’d had at the ball, Az knew he’d be able to come here for safe harbor.  To them.  “Storm’s bad out there– and I don’t just mean the rain.  What are the chances you’ll tolerate me for a night?  Two at most, I promise.”

[decadentlonging]

As if it sensed the turmoil that would no doubt descend over Archeon in the wake of the king’s words, the sky had opened up, spilling its discontent as profusely as the people did their words. Rahul understood the gray gloom in the air perfectly. It kept them somewhat trapped in the atelier, as they were loathe to subject themself to rain lest it harm their clothing, but that was hardly an issue when they were in need of distraction anyway.

Distraction they would get, but not how they predicted. After they had left the palace and been assured Diem was safe where she was, they’d escaped to their workshop. Sketching or sewing or something--anything that kept them busy would be better than chattering with the other astonished Silvers or succumbing to pessimism about the announcement. Yet, somehow the news seemed so overwhelming that the only thing that seemed urgent was sending news of it along to Sofiya. Though she would probably know long before their correspondence found her, they would want to know her opinion as soon as possible. Besides, their letters were entirely too few and far between as it was.

The dainty bell over the door chimed as someone entered, but, bent over a table meant to showcase in-progress designs, they did not look up. Their gaze was intent on the paper beneath their fingers, pen skating across the page or hovering while they considered their words. It was only the intruder’s voice that shook them back into reality; immediately their jaw tensed, smoldering eyes flicking up to take in the sight of a very soaked Azariah tracking rain into their shop. They almost ordered him out on sight, until the day’s events caught up with them.

Azariah Xiao, newblood. It seemed implausible. He had always been something else, something special, but to wield powers the likes of which only Silvers ever had--or perhaps, never had? Secrets were his currency and yet something like this... It was bigger. It was dangerous. Turning him away now, no matter how infuriating he could be, was too callous even for Rahul. Exhaling in a huff, just to make their annoyance evident, they relented. “Fine.” They nearly asked how he had known to find them at their atelier before realization of the obvious overtook the thought; instead, they stood, gesturing for him to follow. “You are an utter mess,” they muttered, unable to contain their ire over that particular detail. “Touch nothing. If anything other than the floor is wet, I will make you take a towel to it.”

[decadentlonging]

love in action is a harsh and terrible thing compared with love in dreams april 23rd  open

If King Orion had made it his goal to scandalize his nation more and more with every announcement, he could not have been doing a better job of it. A wedding, a decree of total blood equality, and the reveal of everyone within their ranks whose abilities went beyond the normal to boot. This had to be the most exciting random April day in history.

Or perhaps the most terrifying, at least for some. Rahul, whose mind worked like a hand hovering over a chessboard, could not help but see all the possible moves out of the position Orion had just put the entire kingdom in, and none of them were wholly good.

As the speech came to a close and the crowd’s quiet was broken by murmurs and the steadily increasing shuffle of hundreds of shifting bodies, they could only roll their eyes to the heavens as if praying to some forgotten god for patience. “Do you suppose he ever thinks before he makes such monumental declarations?” they asked nobody in particular. The best thing they could do would be to get out of the crowd as soon as possible, maybe track down a few people or send word off to their sister, but in the moment they needed to just stay still and sigh their abject dismay at how the kingdom was headed--not where, for equality seemed like a logically sound decision, but how, for they had been set barreling down a path they were not truly equipped for, with saboteurs still all around.

[decadentlonging]

jacob-riley

There was little more he could do but to stare at Rahul when he spoke. The words made since, strung together in a sentence they were logical and Jacob certainly felt as though he understood the insinuation, but they didn’t quite make sense. He couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. He had never simply been given anything. Not ever. The closest he had come was his position here at the palace and even then, he knew there must be things that Sam paid to get it for him and he earned it every day.

It felt like a trap. Like reading a contract you hadn’t yet read that had some minute detail hidden inside that would take you for all you were worth. Rahul has seemed well enough, but Jacob couldn’t quite look past his own biases and fully believe any of this. “And what would you wish to have in return for such a collection? It would come at quite a cost I’m certain,” he said carefully, eyes glued to Rahul to find any hint of manipulation or deception.

“There were, or so I’ve read as well,” Jacob answered, though he hardly saw the point among the other’s words this time. “But such a position would hardly be lucrative under the current economy. And even so it would certainly not serve as a position that should keep someone from The Choke.” Whatever he wanted in life, wherever it drew him, he knew he had to fight to stay away from the place that had taken his brothers from him. “I doubt such an institution would thrive in the world these days, regardless of the benefit it could provide.”

Clever of Jacob, to so carefully yet bravely investigate even the slightest sign of something not quite right from a Silver--Rahul almost laughed at his words. They, of course, had no intention of turning this offer around to benefit themself, but he had no way of knowing that. No proof beyond Rahul’s word was not firm ground to stand on. From someone who knew them better, they might have been offended, but from this young Red they could only see the suspicion as further evidence they were finally on the right track with him.

“The cost?” they repeated idly, again relishing in the ability to create small dramas with their words. “What I ask in return is that you tell me your opinions of the books when you finish them. I enjoy a good debate over literature. A weighty cost, I am sure.” Though their tone was light with mild amusement, they did not mean to mock his paranoia. He was right to thoroughly inspect any gift given to him by a Silver. Their glass bobbed in the air as if invisible fingers lifted it in Jacob’s direction, a small gesture to help ease his conscience. “You can have that in writing if you must.”

They had a difficult task before them if they tried to imagine this willow of a man at the Choke, but that was the danger of being born Red, they supposed. “I am not so sure. Some Silvers with coin to spare might see it for the good it could do. Perhaps if the idea reached the king, who so clearly wants to do some good for Reds and so clearly has no idea how, there could be some hope for it.” They tilted their head, catlike in their veiled curiosity. “You may be right, but I think it is an idea to hold onto. That is all.”

[decadentlonging]

leinolle

“How could I not be satisfied with one of your gowns?” Lei smiled at Rahul’s compliment, bobbing in a small curtsy to show her appreciation. She could feel her face grow warm at the mention of Leira, as vague as it was, and she wished that she didn’t blush so easily. Or that she’d left the front pieces of her hair loose and unpinned so that they could be used as a curtain to hide the blue-grey color crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. “I saw her earlier, while we were getting ready, though I seem to have lost track of her,” she began, hoping that the act of talking would either stop herself from blushing more or distract Rahul from it. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working. “I know we are wearing practically the same dress, but I do believe that you did a better job on hers than mine. Leira looked far more radiant than I do.”

Damn it. Now her plan really wasn’t working, as her face grew even warmer. And with all of the mirrors around the two of them, there wasn’t anywhere to hide her reaction to her own words from Rahul. Lei avoided eye contact with them, admiring their clothing instead and quickly changing the topic of conversation. Perhaps the distraction part of her plan could still hold its own. The gods knew that she needed her own distraction from thinking about Leira and whatever it was she was feeling towards her best friend. “I see you spared no expense or amount of effort on yourself.” Lei gestured towards Rahul’s outfit, both in person and in the mirrors. Compliments were always a good route to go with people; they were all vain to some degree, no matter how hard they denied it. “You outshine everyone I have seen so far tonight, perhaps even the king. Though I cannot tell you what the king is wearing himself or what he even looks like tonight, what with all of these masks everyone is wearing.”

The poor girl was working herself up into full-fledged embarrassment, and yet Rahul could find no way to stop her without interrupting. If even the merest mention of Leira brought so much silver to her cheeks, they wondered how she could possibly spend so much time around the girl--but then again, that seemed to be the natural course of young love. A deep flush hardly mattered when one was so enraptured by the presence of the other, it seemed. The subject of whose dress was better, however, was one they had no trouble intruding on. “I cannot abide by you saying such things,” they said, affecting a dramatic tone as they pretended to be offended and, effortlessly, changed the subject as well. “Someone could overhear you suggesting I put more effort into some client’s clothing than others, and I could not bear that sort of scandal.”

She was absolutely correct in her second assumption, however. No matter how much effort they put into helping make the event as glamorous as it could possibly be, they always had energy left to double it for themself. That was how they set trends, after all. “Thank you, I am aware,” they responded, that slight edge of humor back in their voice though they did believe their own words. Of course they looked stunning. “The king is not dressed in his own house colors either,” they added, meeting Lei’s eyes in a reflection with a gaze laden with intrigue. “He might be impossible to recognize tonight. I wonder who will figure him out first?”

[decadentlonging]

ettacpal

    A sliver of attention is paid the stranger sitting among her plants even as she focuses on the delicate blossoms around her - fingers patting gently the soil that collects around the base of stems and hold them strong. Whoever this stranger is, they are well within their rights to spend time slipped free of party and settled among lilies and aster - that does not mean there is something that tugs within her when someone new enters the space. Someone she cannot trust.     Not to say she trusts most people, but there are few she knows will not bring harm to the plants she had cultivated here. Galen, Jacob - even Tate, of all people - she is able to allow within garden walls and not stiffen at the sight of. This person is new and, by that virtue,wholly unpredictable. But they have brought no harm to anything yet, which is better than nothing.     Etta shifts on her knees so that she faces the larkspur plants and, coincidentally, the stranger is able to be viewed at a better angle. There is something about delphinium plants that interests Etta - all plants do, truthfully - how the tall purple flowers look so lovely. How sick they make anything that eats it. Toxic flowers. She cannot help but wonder if the Silvers who like how they look know how quickly these plants could make them ill. Or perhaps it wouldn’t make Silvers sick, perhaps that unfortunate fate is reserved for Reds alone. Etta isn’t sure and won’t be testing such things any time soon.     Etta sees the stranger’s hand fall away from petals before their mask slips free from their face with no hand pulling loose the knot that holds it there. A cursory glance is given to their face, mostly to see if it is someone she recognizes ( it is not ) before a slight nod is given their direction. It is meant to mean little but an understanding that they are there. Some acknowledgement of the space they take up even as she turns back to the plants that tower over her while she is in the dirt so - the delphinium here grown nearly six feet tall - and fingers again prod gently at the dirt about their bases.     After a pause her own mask is removed, lithe fingers working free the ribbon that holds it steady behind her head. Once it is undone she sets the thing beside her and continues her ministrations on the plants surrounding her. A look is shot towards the ivy that grows itself along the wall, but she does not move to get up and go over to rub waxy leaves between her fingers. Instead she settles where she is, more than content to spend the rest of the night sitting out here, away from the noise of the party.

Finding the calm they had ventured into the garden desperate for, Rahul lets themself sit back, head tilting to allow moonlight to wash over their face. In the quiet, their heartbeat feels less overwhelming as it gradually slows to a normal pace. The knot in their throat loosens as the moments pass. Sensation returns to the surprisingly calloused tips of their fingers. They no longer feel quite so adrift.

Sofiya. Her sudden absence still has weight, still rests on their shoulders like a burden meant for two, for twins. Already they miss the games of logic and battles of wit. Already their ability to be petulant and bratty and honest with her feels lost forever, another casualty of the war front, however trivial. If they could not have her for solace, they require silence--no one else can match their mental pace, so of course they make no attempt to replace her. It would be pointless, after all.

Instead they focus on the heavy silence between themself and this woman in the soil, a stranger who appears to understand their need for quiet perfectly. They see her nod and, mildly perplexed (or perhaps relieved, they can’t quite tell), they respond in kind, barely fast enough to be seen before she turns away again.

It leaves them long moments to watch her movements yet again, to see how she shifts the dirt and caresses the stalks sprouting from it. She pulls her mask away from her face and they wonder why, but only briefly. Their attention is drawn instead to brown skin warmed by the heat of red blood. Her lips and eyebrows, both full and rather attractive, are set in determined lines of sternness until the moments when her nose nears a blossom or her fingers dance along a healthy stem. Her eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings, just as intent on the flowers all around.

Unadorned, silent, far away from the happy chaos of the ball, she is interesting. This girl and her flowers, an unusual, remarkable sight in the city of Archeon. Perhaps if their world did not seem to be falling apart at the seams, they would lose interest in watching her without her permission more quickly. Perhaps if they were not in need of a distraction like her, which required little more than just observation and an appreciation for simple beauty. And, perhaps, she would never know exactly how valuable her mere presence in the garden was to them. That would be fine. So long as they can share her company a little longer, they do not mind.