° ✧ warring tides.

cassius aemilius lerolan. twenty five, silver blood, guard.

[lerolcns-blog]

° ✧ — closed.     /  *     @siblonos​

          Darkness cloaked the grounds surrounding the high houses, draping itself against every fold in every leaf, every sputtering breath taken by a bursting universe. It rose and fell with imaginary lungs. Cassius’ eyes were brushed with glassy sleep, one halved by a warm brown that seemed to offset his left side, a bit jarring in the context of a face carved from shadows. They pressed into collarbones slightly exposed by a half unzipped sweatshirt, into the dents of his knuckles as he pushed hair from his face. The air was tepid and blew against scarred skin. It was times like those he thought he was made more out of war than man; an amalgamation of shrapnel and bitter poppy seeds. There was a metallic taste in his mouth that couldn’t be washed down with even the burn of hard liquor.

          The stars were tinny against a blackened sky, and he thought that maybe he could hear their soft songs if he listened hard enough, but the noise in his head was all too loud. He drew his attention back to himself, taking a seat on a stone bench and trying his best to breathe. He couldn’t sleep again. He could never sleep. There were too many nightmares hidden there, in that gentle thing that taunted him with softness, pulled at his eyelids and whispered empty promises like dreamlessness and escape. They never seemed to deliver.

          His hands were calloused when his eyes ran over them, stained with the blood he could NEVER SEEM TO WASH OFF, blood that was but a phantom to all eyes but his. He was a hurricane; bitter, spiteful, impossible to love. Once, a long time ago, perhaps the concept of love was not one that tasted foreign against his tongue, but now it pressed into the back of his teeth like a language he had no knowledge of. He was too rough around the edges, had been ripped apart and sewn together too many times to resemble anything other than a garment made entirely out of patches. As much as he wasn’t sure someone could take the weight of loving him, he was sure he couldn’t take the weight of heartbreak. His jaw clenched at the sound of footsteps. His voice was broken and just as tinny as the stars  (  HE COULD HEAR THEIR SONGS IN HIS WORDS AS HE SPOKE  ).   ❛  Beautiful night, yeah ?  ❜   he asked            he wasn’t entirely sure who he was asking            in an attempt to give the illusion of some sort of normalcy.

[lerolcns-blog]

leira     /  *     01.

date: April 15th location: grand hall status: closed for @lerolcns

        After their encounter in the Room of Darkness, Lei and Leira parted ways. Leira left the room the room with her cheeks flushed and perfect lipstick slightly smeared and joined by another shade of pink. Her heartbeat told her she had done the right thing yet her mind screamed that she had ruined her one true friendship. A larger part of her reminded her of the social consequences she would face if anyone found out. She walked with her head down, desprate to hide the smear of lipstick. Staring at the ground, she failed to notice anyone dangerously close to her and bumped into a pair of broad shoulders. “ Sorry. ” She looked up, a smile on her lips despite the panic in her heart, and said, “ I’m truly sorry. At times it seems my head is in the clouds. I’ll surely try to pay more attention next time. ” More often than not, she played this role. Often enough that she wondered if this was her.

          The corridors were quieter than the rest of the hall, the music only faint and the conversations more hushed for fear of the wandering ears around them. He was flipping a silver coin over in his hand, the other in his pocket, as he examined the peculiar shine. It was a bit different from the blood he’d seen run from beneath his skin, a bit less mortal. He was interrupted, however, by a quick burst of RED. Perhaps if he had been paying better attention to his surroundings, he wouldn’t have bumped into a head of flaming hair, lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, stance a bit wobbly. His hands fell from where they had instinctively gone up if the situation warranted a quick reaction, a smile peeling across alabaster teeth.    ❛  Please, don’t apologize. I should have been watching my step.  ❜   A contemplative gaze as he truly took notice of the girl’s state. A bit of a smirk pressed itself into the edge of his smile.   ❛  You’ve got something           ❜   Cassius swiped his right thumb just below the corner of his own lip in explanation.

[lerolcns-blog]

azariah     /  *     01.

Date: April 15th Time: 11pm Location: Grand Hall Availability: Open

Az was no stranger to exuberant decadence, and yet somehow the hall still managed to impress him.  Still reeling, perhaps, from Alura’s travel habits, he couldn’t help but take in the extravagance that surrounded.  Somehow with all his travels and dealings, he had never managed to work his way into the famed palace (whether by intention or excuse) until now.  Maybe his association with the rebellion would pay off after all– no one ad ever said anything about parties.  Maybe if they had he’d have joined up far sooner.

He made a personal and internal promise to stay focused on his assigned task– the one he’d been recruited for in the first place.  Coaxing viable information from ignorant but well-gossiped people was, of course, his specialty and this was the perfect environment for such a task.  He excelled particularly at getting even the least gullible to talk with his tempting smile and flirtatious friendly demeanor.  Perhaps that’s why they’d wanted him, why Isla had reached out.

But he’d never been one for following orders, and that’s why he didn’t stop his eyes from scanning the room.  Scanning for them.  He had, in all honesty, no idea what he’d do if he’d actually found them– coming face to face (or mask to mask) with the one person who’d hurt them most, especially on their turf, so instead he resigned to finding someone a little less dramatic to sink his teeth into.

Adjusting his mask– a favorite he’d picked up years ago on one of his more memorable cons– and tugging on the stiff shirt underneath his suit, he set his sights on the one thing he knew would never disappoint: the bar.  While waiting for his drink, he draped himself casually against the bar, ad relaxed as much as anyone could be in a situation such as this.  Finally, with drink in hand and the liquid courage running warmly down his throat, he painted his face with a practiced smile and fixed his attention on the nearest warm body.

❝  You’d think a shindig like this would have something a little more extravagant at the bar besides the usual fare.  Perhaps something themed for the current champions?  They went through all the troubles of the rooms, they could at least spice up their drinks.  ❞

          The entire hall was melting, melting, melting. Sparkling chandeliers over champagne walls, women in dresses like soft golden oceans over men in dark suits, ornate masks over the faces hidden beneath them. And yet, there he stood, stone cold between it all. There was a moment in which his facade faltered, a flicker of shattered marble beneath his exterior, quick enough to blink and miss. He was breaking himself down in an entirely different way; a way much less glamorous than melting. A rough hand curled around the whiskey he’d been nursing, ill-matched eyes trained on the ice cubes leaning against each other. There was no match for the sting of badly brewed beer on the front lines, the burn of alcohol and adrenaline settling somewhere in your gut. In the sickest way, he missed it. He raised it to his lips and took a sip.

          Cassius only took a second look at the man when he started speaking, low and soft and accompanied by what seemed to be some sort of humming, or perhaps that was just the dull thrum of the party around them. He stole his gaze back to the towering shelves of liquor in front of him and took another sip of his drink, lips curling into a smile against the edge of the glass. He let and elbow drop against the bar, glass still suspended as he swirled the ice cubes around and returned his attention to the one who spoke. 

                     ❛  I suppose the organizers’ creative energy                       was sucked up by the room made entirely                       out of mirrors. Not an excuse for shit cocktails,                       though, I must agree.  ❜  Cassius put down the                       whiskey and extended a hand .  ❛  Cassius                      lerolan.  ❜

[lerolcns-blog]

calista      /  *      01.

DATE: 15 APRIL LOCATION: Calista’s room STATUS: Open to everyone

Darkness veiled the room, touching every wall with a black cloud of impenetrable disguise. A hand extended towards her, offering guidance as they’d been instructed - but this was her room, and she knew how to navigate it. Chills ran up her spine, fingers draping over velvet cushions, whilst people locked themselves in corners and kissed each other furiously. A blush lifted onto her silver skin, toning the colour with a greyish hue that could almost appear blue in some lights. Of course, no one could see the embarrassment which she felt from sordid details that were not concealed from her sight. The actions happened right before they occurred, hands running and desires burning in a room which had been crafted in her name - how ironic.

Sighing, she felt the breath of another close by, the padding of feet across the floor as an amused smile curled her lips. “You’re not well hidden from me. I have the advantage,” Calista declared, leaning against one of the back walls, away from the amorous couple.

          The world was dark here. Quiet. There was something beautiful about the lack of ringing in his ears, the simplicity to which the world was reduced in total darkness. He was the first man on a quiet earth, before light splintered itself against the shadows, pervasive and unforgiving, an intrusion on the subtleties of twilight. He could feel each breath as if it were anew, something given unto him, much like a gift. Mismatched eyes swept over the cool blackness, catching over something he very well knew he couldn’t see. Perhaps it was just the sound of soft breath that drew him.

          Cassius stood, ice cubes clinking against the edges of a whiskey glass, and buttoned his jacket as he approached the gentle noise. A hand moved to his pocket as he neared it, smiling over the lip of the glass and stopping in his path when he heard the voice.

                    “I suppose I no longer maintain the element                      of surprise.” A smirk full of shadows. “What’s                      brought you from the party, if you don’t mind                      my asking ?”