fake empire

captain galen hale of the inhibitor

[galen-hale]

malle.

It took a moment for her to catch on, her own refusal to recognize the situation lending a preternatural calm to her movements. Malle tracked him, her mind sorting his words, trying to imbue meaning in them. She remembered this place, the lack of control, the scant and winding answers. It made her feel small, and perhaps that was the cruelest part of the island: the unending helplessness that tracked them, everywhere. Even Lecia, ready to fight, had only wound up punished, her knives taken back.

What had been permissible when Malle was only responsible for Malle felt impossible, then. Her heart lived outside of her body, and her body was not her own, entirely. She split between three people, and realization gave way to pain, tight and acute in her chest where her heart should have been, but was instead in the courtyard or the gardens or – she stopped. She could not think about that.

“Are you going to hurt him?”

She could go back to bed, he said. Malle gave him a small, sympathetic smile.

“I’m coming with you.”

-

“No, of course not, Your Highness. I’m not going to hurt him.”

The plan for what to do with Tierney seemed to change by the minute. Galen wasn’t overly concerned with what happened after they found him. Although he didn’t anticipate conversing with the man’s wife who also happened to be a queen and pregnant. Of the royal leadership, Queen Margaret had earned a small place of respect in Galen’s eyes.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I’ve got a lot of ground I need to cover.” Was this a trap? Possibly. Galen couldn’t quite rationalize how Queen Margaret would get the upper hand in this situation, though. And wouldn’t it be interesting for her to meet the leader of the Outlaws. All while pregnant, too.

“Well, all right, but I should explain that not all of my colleagues feel so generous toward your safety. I can try to keep you safe from them, but I have my limits.”

[galen-hale]

malle.

It was difficult not to feel a little amused by this man, who had so brazenly entered and commandeered control over her visiting apartment and now seemed to be peppered with inane questions. She watched him, a little curious, a little anxious. The smart watch on her wrist did not vibrate with a call, the screen did not flicker with a message.

At this point, she didn’t expect it to. Jacob would come bursting through the doors before he would remember to use his phone.

“He likes to look at the stars. Have a cigar. The gardens are quite unique here, it would be a shame to spend all his time sleeping, just because I do.” Malle smiled, and then looked to the phone in his hand with a small nod of her brunette head. “Is everything all right?”

She looked, somehow, innocent.

“You seem upset.”

The queen’s placid explanation for her husband’s whereabouts either indicated a great amount of trust or denial. Galen did not know Jacob Tierney personally. But if Galen had to use a single word to describe the man, it would be scoundrel. (Galen would know, being one himself.)

Even if he felt the need to critique the trust Queen Margaret had in her own husband, Galen could not help but feel at ease in her presence. Oversharing was one of his weaknesses, but he liked to think he could get out of just about anything by talking. “Everything is just fine. Going very swimmingly, actually, thank you for asking. There was a running bet about who would find Tierney first. Your husband Tierney, I mean.” As if there was another Tierney, which there was, but anyway. “So I thought to come here and find him, but who knew the old devil would be out at this hour?”

Galen let out a little sigh. “If it doesn’t make a difference to you, you can go back to bed, Your Highness.”

[galen-hale]

malle.

Everything about it was so familiar. The ceremony, the coyness of his movements, the pretend formality of his speech. They did this dance on the island, treating their captives like guests, parties every night. Like any amount of flavored rum could detract from the truth: that they were captives, kidnapped, and any turn of the knife could bring their death.

Malle motioned the maid back into her bedroom, her gesture a gentler shade of his dismissal, a nod to the frightened woman to tidy the bed and prepare her rooms. For her part, she sat.

Before, Malle would have held her hands in her lap, shy and scared. But she was a queen, now, and that came with some command. Her arms rested on the armrests, her expression curious, dark eyes tracking even the smallest movement of his form. Unthreatened. Amused, almost. Her head tilted to the side, soft brunette waves on her shoulder. “Are you looking for him?”

“Looking for him? Me? No, no. Asking for a friend.” 

There had been bets placed on who would get to Tierney first. Rumors that the man had been spotted in the gardens or by the main hallway. Galen had thought for sure that the honorable Jacob Tierney would have been at the side of his very pregnant wife at this late hour. How wrong he was, and now his reward would be to remain here to guard the queen. 

Queen Margaret had the utmost poise considering her current situation. Unlike her aide, Galen had to give the queen credit for not dissolving into tears at the first sight of armed guards. This was likely not her first time being around pirates brandishing weapons. The island fiasco felt so long ago.

Galen hadn’t gambled on his part of the operation being a queen’s companion for the duration. He imagined himself tussling with irate royals and throwing them head first into locked rooms. Alas. Until he received other instructions, he’d remain here. Maybe Tierney would show up. 

A text arrived as if on cue. Tierney had been found. “Ah, shit!” he swore under his breath. His hand covered his mouth as more words fell out. “I mean, fuck it all!--Excuse me, Your Highness.” Galen sighed and sent a quick text back in acknowledgement. “Nothing to worry about. Your husband has been found wandering about. I wonder where he had to go at this time of night?”

[galen-hale]

malle.

“Goodness.” Malle murmured, halfway ready to roll over before she remembered that she couldn’t. She caught herself against the pillows and slowly opened her eyes to the soft face of Sara Wynn, her second attendant, and not the bright eyes and ruddy cheeks of her husband. She blinked, twice, and propped herself upright. “Well?” She prompted. “Whatever is it?”

It was deja-vu, the icy chill in her veins, the way her spine seemed to stack precariously straight. Malle dressed meticulously. She paid careful attention to layers, parted her hair and pinned it back. And finally, once she was satisfied, she motioned to shaking Sara Wynn to open the door.

“Hello.” She greeted the room simply. Her stomach didn’t twist or turn, but instead filled with lead. “I’m Malle.”

Hell all over again.

@galen-hale​

He’d been in this room before.

While the guards shoved the queen’s attendant toward the bedroom, Galen’s attention pulled him toward a built-in bookcase. He scanned each title until landing on the only book in English, The Rebel by Camus, and peeled it open to a page where a ballet ticket had been pressed inside in lieu of a bookmark. The Paris Opera Ballet’s La Bayadére.

Noise from the door leading to the bedroom startled him out of the decades-old memories held in his hands and he snapped the book shut. “Your Majesty,” he addressed Queen Margaret with a bow. When he rose, he was smiling. “Hello. I’m Galen. Please, sit. Rest your feet.” Galen shot a scolding look at the guards as if he had not ordered them to rouse the queen. “There’s no need to for all of this. Go.” Galen waved them out of the living space with a shake of his head.

He sat in one of the parlor chairs and crossed one leg over the other. Hours ago he’d been the recipient of royal honors, and he didn’t feel the need to explain the complicated plot that brought him to Queen Margaret’s quarters. “Is your husband out?” he asked.

[galen-hale]

😥 for your muse to receive a troubling text while speaking to mine. (Julia!)

“And if that wasn’t enough,” Galen went on, “I got pick-pocketed on the celebratory pub crawl and lost my cadet ID, so I either had to find the thief or come clean to the sergeant about it all.” Galen rolled his eyes at the foolishness of his youth. “They didn’t kick me out, but I was stuck on kitchen detail for six months, and I haven’t eaten a potato since.”

Galen was about one and a half drinks past the point of tipsy he wanted to be at this hour, so the glass in his hand was water, and the woman he was speaking to was pretty and distracting enough to keep his mind off of what was to unfold. But when his smart watch buzzed, he had to eye the curtailed message T missed RV point.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. “I mean, fuck. Dammit. I’m trying to work on my language,” he said with a smile, glazing over the clearly troubled look on his face. “I just lost a bet.”

@julia-lauridsen

[battleroyalehq]

The clock strikes midnight. Send me a prompt for a quick, four post thread.

(OOC: After four posts, your characters will get a notification!)

😱 for my muse startling your muse and causing them to knock over a vase. 👀 for catching your muse in/leaving/entering someone else’s room. 👣 for your muse and my muse exploring the garden maze. 🍸 for my muse to find your muse behind the bar. ☎️ for one of our muses needing help finding a lost (cellphone, earring, watch, or other item). 😥 for your muse to receive a troubling text while speaking to mine. 🍺 for my muse to help your drunk muse walk back to their room. 🔑 for your muse to tell my muse that they overheard a guest has gone missing.

[galen-hale]

👀 Watching a heated confrontation between two Heads of State.

The two men were arguing in German, of which Galen didn’t speak a lick of, and the harsh language only made the heated argument seem even more confrontational. Galen took a sip of martini from his glass. Now this was entertainment.A presence lingered near him. Beside and below him. A very short woman in a shimmery dress. Obviously, a princess. She seemed to be watching the proceedings, too.

“My money’s on the bearded one.”

[galen-hale]

lecia​.

galen-hale​:

lecia.

Lecia had been testing out her skills, seeing just how much of the disagreement she could understand. Her German had improved ten fold since the first time she’d stayed in Hamburg. Of course her heightened interest in this particular argument may had also had to do with one of the participants technically being her future father-in-law. She glanced up at the man beside her.

“Okay. Five euro for one runs away, ten euro for a punch. You have the beard, I have the one drinking brandy,” she said, “But, you know, I agree with yours. Historically, it is a poor trade agreement.”

His brow lifted in pleasant surprise as the princess took him up on the offer. He’d been joking. But she set the bets low enough to keep him from scoffing away. Sure, he’d play. If he recalled correctly he was speaking with one of the Portuguese princesses, but he wasn’t sure which one. The fact that she knew any of the German being lobbed back and forth was interesting.

“You’re on. And I must confess, I have no idea what they’re saying. It sounds like it may be more dull than it looks?” The bearded one threw his hands in the air and got in the other man’s face. Galen gasped and dramatically covered his mouth, glancing over at the princess with a snide smile.

Her hands flew up to her face. No, no, no. Though her body tensed as if to jump forward, she forced herself to remain exactly where she stood. Intervening would mean losing the bet by forfeiture. Lecia Cardoza did not forfeit. She would stand her ground, and face potential defeat with honour.

“… It is dull,” she answered, belatedly. Her inability to look away said otherwise. “Except for the part with the cousin. Someone is insulting the cousin before, and your man is being angry still. They call her… it is ant tattoos? I do not understand this word.”

Least of all in the context of a trade deal. Maybe she could ask Aaron later. A few drops of spittle flew from the yelling man’s mouth, leaving both men red in the face. But before the argument could escalate further, a member of staff slipped a tray of champagne between the two. Breaking up a fight under the guise of offering refreshment. The brandy man stomped off, and Lecia huffed as she watched him go.

She pulled a bill out of her tiny clutch. She offered it up, pinched between two fingers.

“Next time you are not winning so easily.”

Right when things were about to get good, the two men were interrupted. Damn, the staff here was too prepared. Well--at least in this particular instance. Galen watched as the brandy drinker stalked off in a huff and he let out a low whistle.

“Too bad,” he said, reaching for the bill and plucking it out of the princess’s hand. The bet was all her idea, anyway--although Galen was a bit surprised she paid up so easily. Most princesses would go for the waterworks first or have to go ask mommy or daddy for coinage.

“Better luck next time, Princess,” Galen said with a smile. He turned to leave, having no interest in chatting. “Come and find me if there’s more excitement. We’ll play again.”

[galen-hale]

👀 Watching a heated confrontation between two Heads of State.

The two men were arguing in German, of which Galen didn’t speak a lick of, and the harsh language only made the heated argument seem even more confrontational. Galen took a sip of martini from his glass. Now this was entertainment.A presence lingered near him. Beside and below him. A very short woman in a shimmery dress. Obviously, a princess. She seemed to be watching the proceedings, too.

“My money’s on the bearded one.”

[galen-hale]

lecia.

Lecia had been testing out her skills, seeing just how much of the disagreement she could understand. Her German had improved ten fold since the first time she’d stayed in Hamburg. Of course her heightened interest in this particular argument may had also had to do with one of the participants technically being her future father-in-law. She glanced up at the man beside her.

“Okay. Five euro for one runs away, ten euro for a punch. You have the beard, I have the one drinking brandy,” she said, “But, you know, I agree with yours. Historically, it is a poor trade agreement.”

His brow lifted in pleasant surprise as the princess took him up on the offer. He’d been joking. But she set the bets low enough to keep him from scoffing away. Sure, he’d play. If he recalled correctly he was speaking with one of the Portuguese princesses, but he wasn’t sure which one. The fact that she knew any of the German being lobbed back and forth was interesting.

“You’re on. And I must confess, I have no idea what they’re saying. It sounds like it may be more dull than it looks?” The bearded one threw his hands in the air and got in the other man’s face. Galen gasped and dramatically covered his mouth, glancing over at the princess with a snide smile.

[galen-hale]

👀 Watching a heated confrontation between two Heads of State.

The two men were arguing in German, of which Galen didn’t speak a lick of, and the harsh language only made the heated argument seem even more confrontational. Galen took a sip of martini from his glass. Now this was entertainment. A presence lingered near him. Beside and below him. A very short woman in a shimmery dress. Obviously, a princess. She seemed to be watching the proceedings, too.

“My money’s on the bearded one.”

[galen-hale]

battleroyalehq​:

Unity Gala; Who What Wear

Send a number and I’ll answer… Who. 1. Who I’m most excited to see... It’s been a while since I’ve seen the French royal family. 2. Who I’m least excited to see... Can’t pick just one. 3. Who I’d be seen on the dance floor with... There’s a dance floor?

What. 4. What my acceptance speech will say, if I win an award tonight... Thanks, I’ll place it with my other numerous awards and accolades. 5. What I’m wearing... This 6. What drink I’m going to order first... Dirty martini.

Where. 7. Where I’m staying tonight... Right here at the palace. 8. Where I’d like to sneak off for a break... Outside for a smoke. 9. Where you’ll find me at midnight... It’s a secret!

[battleroyalehq]

Unity Gala; Introductions Send a symbol to start a drabble! Pick a symbol for your character to find mine… 🍸 Waiting for a drink at the bar. 👠 Sulking in a hallway, fixing a broken shoe. 👀 Watching a heated confrontation between two Heads of State. 🕺 Hiding from their unwanted dance partner. 📷 Taking a covert video for their IG story. ⏰ Checking their watch. Again. 🧼 Practicing their speech in the bathroom. 💋 Stepping out of a closet, clothes rumpled. 🤳 Taking a selfie. 💨 Escaping a one-sided conversation.

I’ll start a short thread for us at the gala, limited to four posts.

[battleroyalehq]

Unity Gala; Who What Wear

Send a number and I’ll answer… Who. 1. Who I’m most excited to see 2. Who I’m least excited to see 3. Who I’d be seen on the dance floor with

What. 4. What my acceptance speech will say, if I win an award tonight 5. What I’m wearing 6. What drink I’m going to order first

Where. 7. Where I’m staying tonight 8. Where I’d like to sneak off for a break 9. Where you’ll find me at midnight

[galen-hale]

Name: Galen Hale Age: 57 Nationality: British Current Residence: London, or on his ship, The Inhibitor Affiliations: The Royal Navy, Stormbreach, The Outlaws (secretly) Personality: Galen is proud of his achievements and is not afraid to let his ambition show. He can talk a lot and tends to come across as full of himself. He is still charming and uses self-deprecating humor to put people at ease around him, and people find him to be “down to earth.” He’s very much a people person and he enjoys teaching. He’s down to earth and is known for having a potty mouth even in the classroom. He keeps his personal life a very well kept secret and doesn’t let anyone get to know him outside of his professional life. Likes: Books (fiction and nonfiction alike), Clip Art and PowerPoint animations, cussing, surf and turf! Dislikes: Poker, jazz, the way rich people can’t seem to own only one fucking car? History: -Galen was born out of wedlock and his alcoholic mother couldn’t raise him so he was passed around amongst his family. Eventually he made a friend in school who let him live with his rich family in London. The family was kind enough but the extended family and friends always treated Galen like a servant, so he started to resent rich people. -When Galen finished secondary school he decided to join the Royal Navy. He rose up in the ranks and served under a vicious Captain that was thirsty for pirate blood. He witnessed dozens of pirates ship sink at the hands of his commander. -After becoming the captain of a ship himself, Galen took to a different strategy, capturing pirate ships and taking prisoners for information instead of killing them. He became an expert at boarding and securing ships. -His exploits earned him the rank of Commodore and Galen found himself mingling with the officers that came from rich families and attended the royal academy, many of whom were much younger than Galen. -He met the French princess at a Royal Navy event and they began dating, but their courtship ended abruptly when the princess was betrothed to another prince. She dumped Galen via letter and never heard from her again. -After moving away from active duty, Galen started teaching naval cadets, but quickly grew bored and missed the sea. He retired (keeping a teaching agreement with the Royal Navy) and got his own boat. -During a vacation in the Caribbean, he met Nina. She was a pirate, but he didn’t know it at the time. She knew exactly who he was, of course. He fell recklessly in love with her. Nina thought she could use Galen, but she fell in love with him, too. -Nina and Galen start a little shipping business with some illegal jobs here and there. Galen kind of hates how much he likes the excitement of smuggling. They do some jobs for the Tierneys and other bigger pirate groups here and there. -You might see this one coming, but Nina is killed in a royal attack. -Galen’s priorities begin to shift. The Tierneys are the most powerful pirates in the world, but Galen is more interested in the splinter group the Outlaws led by Benjamin Tierney. Galen thinks they’re insane, but he knows some good sailors who went with them, including Deacon Delon. -Galen doesn’t sail with the Outlaws outright. But he knows the world order needs to change and that the elite and the royals have had it too good for too long. So he keeps in contact with them and helps out here and there. He disagrees with senseless violent attacks because he doesn’t see how those will lead to change. -Galen is invited to be honored at the Unity Gala in Paris for his naval service and independent sailing business. It’s a perfect opportunity to flip the script with all of the most powerful royals in one place...