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@huntercrawfcrd
crownprincexvalentin:
Val opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it. He knew he was right, that what he said was cryptic, but he was too hard-headed to say it wasn’t. “Uh….” he said slowly, the ‘uh’ going on a bit longer than he thought. “Well, I do-just haven’t seen in her while. And on top of that, I don’t think they know what picture I’m looking for.”
.
"Does anybody?" he wondered aloud. "I mean, it sounds as if it's more of a personal item. Not something you flaunted around to everyone," he cleared his throat, stuffing his hands deep inside the pockets of his jeans and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "But, if it might have been in a portrait somewhere in the room, a maid is more likely to have seen it before, right?"
charlottewalker:
To be fair, drink was a vague subject, so she talked about all kind of drinks and that’s includes non-alcoholic. The Aussie princess didn’t taste all kind of alcoholic beverage anyway. She was controlled at home, not that she used to get wasted or anything, but her parents were quite tough to her. ❝ Yeah. I don’t have habit to drink. ❞ She tapped her index finger under her chin was she was thoughtful about his question. ❝ Probably. I don’t think I’d handle alcohol so well. I like the taste of energy drinks or soda. I know there’s cocktails, but… I like Jägger bombs so much. ❞
A chirpy voice inside his head sang that it wasn't too late to pick something like it up, but Hunter muffled it immediately with a swig of his wine. Soda seemed so trivial, though. Something they could mix up with so much. "Gin tonic might be a good one for you," an entry point, if they could call it that. "You could trade the gin for some lime pop, and still have a similar effect," he spoke without even thinking. "There are many alternatives," perhaps he should have asked whether it was something she wanted to do, but that was already water under the bridge.
when: early evening where: somewhat deserted hallway in the fortress who: open
She’d always been curious. Greer would like to have said adventurous, but that would be a stretch even for her. Either way, the princess had a tendency to wander. Maybe it was habit from formative years following Duncan around various castles and estates as he explored - a wish to be more like him. Lately, it was far more likely that the princess was seeking out solitude, a place to hide from the crowds and eyes and fear. She had a book with her, some first edition of Scottish folktales she’d somehow convinced the Royal Archivist back in Edinburgh to part with, and had spent a fair amount of time searching for the perfect window nook - secluded, but where she could still see the sky.
Only now, Greer was hopelessly lost.
The princess had refused to admit this for quite some time, continuing on in her wandering and occasionally stopping to read a few pages. But the windows were now dark and the chill that crept along the glass too sharp to ignore. Greer felt the first echos of panic - the tension in her jaw, tightness in her chest, the way her skin seemed to prickle and crawl as if it were a rubber band stretched too far. She stopped, leaning back against a wall and closed her eyes. Nails digging half moons into her palms, she took several shaky breaths before realizing she wasn’t alone.
“Hello?” A hint of panic to her voice before she relented, no one who didn’t belong here could get in, right? “Forgive me, I got a bit lost. I haven’t been here long.”
Hunter had always been fortunate that his inner compass made sure that although he wandered, sometimes without having any clue where he was going, he always knew how to get back to the starting point. It was a gift, considering his aloofness towards most things around him. In hurried steps, he made his way through the hallway, heading back to his bedroom to work on a few things when, through his peripheral view, seemed to spot someone. Unsure of what he had seen, the prince forced himself to take two steps backward to confirm it, and that's when he saw her again.
Confusion made his eyebrows furrow, and he moved closer to the girl. Noticing the look upon her face, registering what he assumed to be panic in her expression. Suddenly, Hunter's hazel eyes were alight with a small flash of recognition, which was more than what he could have said about many faces he'd met in life. He remembered having heard her name on the news, or in hushed words exchanged through the closed doors of his mother's office between her and her royal advisors, but he'd not followed through with the story to see where it had led.
"Greer," he finally greeted, not even attempting to hinder the surprise from reaching his face. "What are you doing here?" He wondered, only then realizing he had completely missed what she'd said. "I'm sorry. What?!"
@katrienmeijer
Hunter preferred to live his days minding his business, and keeping it to himself. It had worked for over thirty years of his life, after all. Except that while he was in Russia, his family had deposited far too many expectations on him and what he might be able to accomplish. Lately, it included trying to find out whether there was a war brewing. There was little Hunter hated more than having to have an idle conversation that would build-up to what he wanted. So, naturally, when he spotted Katrien, his first idea was to ignore it altogether. Eventually, he decided to fight the urge to remain in his bubble and crossed the distance towards the girl. "I'm sure Matthias is in high demand at this moment, no?"
thomasadley:
“I suppose as a third party, it’s easier for me,” he pointed out with a shrug. It wasn’t his marriage, after all, and he liked Hunter well enough that he was sure he could handle having him as a brother-in-law. Thomas’s own betrothal, however, had been a much harder pill for him to swallow. “Are you and Mia not getting along?” he asked, brow furrowed in concern. “You don’t have to tell me,” he quickly amended, “it’s not really my business.”
“I’m sorry. Hopefully they’ll let us out of here soon.” Though he knew that the chances of that were slim to none. It had been over a year, and there still hadn’t been any word on when they could all go home. “I find bribing the guards with the promise of food helps. The chocolate shop is a favourite.”
.
Hunter nodded gravely at the statement. Hell if he knew what Thomas was saying. Hunter had been the third party to his sister's future as a queen ever since he was born. And as such, he had always seen the situation with humor, despite her obvious discomfort. Now he seemed to be in her shoes, and suddenly all the things he'd snickered about while they were growing up seemed to weigh upon his shoulders. The Canadian scoffed at the question straightforward question, and instead of offering an equally direct response, he chose to be evasive. "You know your sister better than I. How do you think she finds this?" he gestured around with an idle hand.
Canting his head to the side, he considered the man's words, making a mental annotation on bribery. "Anyone who might be particularly susceptible?"
alystudor:
Alys pursed her lips and nodded in agreement, “Yes, it often does. Thankfully there’s more beauty that can be found in this world than cruelness.” It was a thought she had to remind herself of on a daily basis. Someone so heartless had snatched her brother’s life away from him. They gave no warning of their actions. No chance of him to flee or defend himself, but took it upon themselves to play God, and for that she felt anger, sadness, and oftentimes would plot her revenge as if she were ever likely to get her hands on the culprit guilty of murder. But then she’d remind herself of the position she held, who she was, and the reality of wanting retaliation.
Watching as Hunter began to get out the tools for his hobby reminded her she had books to put away. With a slight lean to the side, she scooped them up and moved towards the massive bookshelf she had originally snagged them from. The small stack she had, held dust from their time on the large bookcase giving her ease that she could more than likely return to them anytime she wanted without fear of someone else taking them, “What is it the kids say? Sometimes it be like that?” She laughed softly as she continued what she was doing, “I, too, hope it’s peaceful though.” She glanced at the floor for a moment in thought, before putting another book on the shelf. “I swear, that’s one thing I could live without. Having a guard following me 24/7. We, as a collective, need to figure out a system of dropping guards, so we can actually live the lives we deserve to live every now and then.” She turned to Hunter with one book still tucked in her grasp, “What if I…can help you somehow? Don’t ask me for specifics, because I don’t know. We’d have to figure that out together, but if I can get the guards off of you at least once a week, would that make things more plausible and enjoyable for you?” If she was going to be a queen to the people around her and providing them with the best life politics could offer, she needed to start practicing.
.
Hunter eyed the woman through the corners of his eyes and a brow raised at her words, but he decided not to question the content of her statement. Whenever there was a chance for him to gloss over a topic, or pretend it was never there, he would happily take it. He had always assumed it was for the best for him not to be caught up in that kind of thing, although some might have had a different opinion about it. "There's a lot out there we don't really get to see," he said with a few shakes of his head, choosing to only say that on the matter. "But they aren't all good. Or all bad," he brought his shoulders up and down with a shrug. It was silly of them to think otherwise, even though he was aware that more often than not, they were encouraged to see their lives as a fairy tale. Which was both sad and a lie.
Picking up an aluminum structure, Hunter stretched it open on the floor, leveling the tripod's height in a series of adjustments. Lastly, he retrieved his camera and slung its strap around his neck. Putting away the lens lid, he began taking some experimental shots, testing the light. Lifting his gaze from it momentarily, he glanced at his companion. "I suppose there are worst things to say," he reasoned, his head tilting to the side as he made a face. The Canadian could even think of a few expressions there, but it wasn't as if his comment fixed anything. "Sometimes, that's what we have left," and it sucked that he sometimes assumed it was what he had to look forward to as well. He didn't want to be that person, but he wasn't sure when that surge of disillusion had taken over him. The comment about the guards, however, shook him out of his pessimistic thoughts, and he chuckled. "Sometimes, I swear, it doesn't matter how old you are, they still treat you as if you were two. And I do not doubt some might even offer to change you out of your dirty clothes or something like it," he snorted. Her proposition had his interest, and Hunter lowered his camera from his line of view to look at her, something that wasn't, at all, usual for him. "Get the guards off my back," he toyed with the words, and one could see the curiosity that flashed in his hazel eyes. "You have my attention. Go on," he gestured for her to proceed.
charlottewalker:
She wasn’t surprised to hear he likes whiskey. Most of the people she knows when they were into wine, either choose vodka or whiskey. ❝ As for me, well. Strawberries Milkshake or a good Italian soda. But if we were talking about alcoholic beverages I’d go with Jägger bombs. ❞ She explained.
.
He had been about to point out he'd been talking about drinks and hard beverages when she made her amend. Hunter thought that to be more interesting. "Jägger bombs, huh?" he repeated, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "Is it because of the energy drink in it?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
crownprincexvalentin:
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. He got up as he stared at the snow one more time, cracking his knuckles. “When everything gets back to normal, maybe everything will just be fine for once.” the last part came out as a mumble, but all in all, he really wanted to dig that photo out, not caring about frostbite or catching a cold. If he didn’t have that picture back, then why the hell was he just standing there not doing anything? “Or maybe things might change…and I’m probably not going to like some of them.”
.
Hunter stared at the other prince for long minutes with nothing but a furrow between his eyebrows. Attempting to find the right words, he opened and closed his mouth several times before any sound emerged from it. "And that," he wagged a finger in the air. "Isn't at all cryptic," he finished, unsure what to think of the confession. He wished there was a time machine he could use to go back to the moments before this conversation. Hindsight would have made him avoid the situation altogether. "But, I mean... If the goal is to find... You already know a maid, right?"
“If you say something about what’s going on between the Netherlands and Russia, I’m going to honestly bite your fuckin’ head off.” Lilliana snapped at the customer. Once again, they brought up the situation about Netherlands and Russia, and honestly, she wanted it to end. “I honestly care about selling and creating beautiful clothes. Anything else I really don’t care. Honestly. Now if you want to buy something, please buy something. If not, please bloody leave.”
Hunter raised both arms in a surrendering gesture. "Woah," he seemed taken aback by her words. It seemed as if any other person was on top of the latest events, but Hunter. The Canadian should probably blame himself for his aloofness on the matter. If he was more proactive, he would have sought after Matthias and asked him what was happening. He supposed that also spoke volumes about who his country would choose to side with. Especially when Canada and Russia historically disagreed upon matters. Still, Matthias was a friend. He needed to know more about it. Letting a breath out, he shrugged his shoulders. "I want to think it's... Nothing," he paused for a little bit. "But, yeah... I guess I might need to make some... Amends, you could call it."
ofbuchananisms:
Her golden-brown eyes glimmered in amusement despite the situation. After all, how could she not find the humor in all of this? Poppy leaned down to scoop a few wood chips into the stove sitting in the kitchen. “I believe there are some in the office there. I’m going to attempt to build a fire in here. Would you mind seeing about some duct tape?”
There were tools she kept on her person and one was a lighter. Another was a pocket knife. At least if they were in the chocolate shop, they would be able to drink some bourbon to keep warm. “It’ll be our secret, no?” she mused.
.
"What do you plan to use the duct tape for?" he wondered. It was one of those things some people still had, although many had already realized they didn't need it anymore, and they might have had to improvise. If they could find the first-aid kit, they might be able to use the adhesive patches for whatever Poppy was concocting.
"Yes," he was fast to state, then his voice softened, his gaze lowering to her. "Please," he requested. Emilia already saw him as a self-centered, selfish sod. Hunter had no desire to further prove that point. Although if he were to carefully consider, between the injured guard and Poppy's presence, he hadn't thought of his betrothed a whole lot after stumbling into her upon entrance.
THE GREAT (2020–)
pimchaiket:
“There’s no variation?” Pim quizzed, looking around herself as if for the first time. Normally she wouldn’t pay attention to something like that, unless it was bright enough for her to try and find her sunglasses. She was distracted by the movement of his camera as he passed it for her to inspect. Seeing how precious it was to Hunter she cradled it gently in her lap, pressing the button to move across. “I suppose it does, a bit like sink or swim?”
.
"Little," he amended, thrusting his head forward to indicate something ahead of them. "With the sun overcast, and the tones being mostly the white of the snow and dark debris," Hunter pointed at the subjects he was emphasizing and continued with his explanation of the topic. "This means that once you've found the right setting for you, the changes you will have to make will also be subtle." From the corner of his eye, he watched her peruse the images and waited to see if she might have something to say about them. "You could be right... I mean... How many of us hate being here?" He mused, thinking of the situation.
crownprincexvalentin:
Val pouted about that for about five seconds before the pout disappeared on his face. “Ain’t that the truth,” he agreed. He missed art so much, going to the museums and looking at the art and not looking at the small screen of his phone. “I will,” he promised. If the picture was still in tact, then he’d give it to him to fix it. “Might take me a while, but I can find it.”
.
If Hunter were a more positive person, he would have told Valentin to hold onto hope. But he thought hope only set people on a path of further misery. At least if Valentin didn't nurture any expectations, if they should find it, it would be a pleasant surprise. And so he nodded, offering an agreeing hum. "I'm sure they will rework this mess in no time," it was a statement the Canadian found he could trust.
miaadley:
“I don’t care whether relationships are your thing or not,” Emilia replied. “You either find a way to make this work or you can take the fall for a failed betrothal that will look bad on both you and Canada because I refuse to be at fault for anything regarding your inability to even pretend like you care or think about anything other than yourself and your photographs. You’re not so bad, I know that, I’ve known you long enough to see that. But that doesn’t mean you’re anything but self-absorbed when it comes to talking and conversing with other people,” she ranted. The woman grew silent for a moment as she watched him. “Nor do i expect you to change. Not because I think it’s appropriate to ask you of it, but because I don’t think you’re capable of being anything other than what you are.” Mia wasn’t sure what had set her off but something certainly did. “But you better find a way to care about things other than your hobbies before you’re king of England. That’s all I ask.”
.
Hunter watched her outburst quietly, switching from casual sips of his wine to hefty gulps as he wished for the beverage to be something stronger. Much stronger than what he was having. His expression remained impassive, his jaw set in place as Emilia made sure to call him out on his flaws. And for the length of her passionate display, there was nothing he could do other than sit there and watch. Wait until she had the chance to get it all out of her chest while his head skipped from point to point in rapid succession. Then, there was a pause. A long one when he assumed she might have been waiting for him to say something. Glancing at the wine still sitting in his glass, Hunter downed it, letting the liquid sit at the back of his throat for a breath before swallowing it. "Are you quite finished?" He wondered, and one eyebrow arched slightly in what seemed like his only showcase of emotion towards the whole thing, when in fact, his mind raced.
aseventhdevil:
“Well, do you mind helping me lug this stuff then? Or do you have servants to do it for you?” she retorted. Normally she would get a thorough tongue-lashing from her superior, but Avery now (thankfully) no longer worked for the Canadian crown.
. Oh, are you sure they aren't all busy? There was a sarcastic remark he suppressed. "Yeah, pretty sure I can help out. I just need to find somewhere to put down my camera first," he mentioned. The debris could wait a little bit longer. But Hunter would make sure his camera couldn't be damaged.