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partedway:

“far more entertaining, too. though i’m finding i prefer a quiet life, these days. maybe i always have.” she stood up. “shall we see about finding some dinner? i can’t believe how late it’s gotten.” the sky had not yet darkened entirely, but dinner seemed the closest to a quiet life she could get, circumstances considered. “the evenings here are pretty; i’ll give them that.” she’d had too many bones to pick with the elements in her youth to really appreciate nature, but in that moment she could find no quarrel with the sky.

“I’m afraid I’m still an adventurer at heart, and I’ve spent too much time alone on the road not to appreciate company where I can get it,” Isabella said with a wry smile in Camilla’s direction. “We better, before it gets too dark to do anything. Dusk is pretty, pitch blackness less so,” she joked, standing up and waiting for her friend to follow suit.

#{ chat }#{ camilla }

seasvng:

❝ WHERE DO YOU HAIL from ?? ❞ she asks, genuinely curious. ❝ i am a musician myself, ❞ she explains, ❝ — from kradaeca, but i’ve never heard a song such as that. it was played beautifully. ❞

“Ironhaven by birth,” Isabella said after a beat. Her accent was damning, but with her life shrouded in secrets, it was a little too much of a revelation for her liking. “But I’ve traveled far in my time. Even to your home,” she nodded in the other’s direction. “That song was of my own invention. I can teach you, if you’d like.”

#{ chat }#{ purnelle }

irresolue:

“ oh. no. not at all. that would be an awfully strange thing to ask, considering i joined you here after you began playing. not the reverse scenario. ” dohui leaned back until she had enough room to fish into her pockets, pulling out a few pieces of coin she had on hand. “ though you certainly aren’t dreadful… here, i suppose, ” she said, extending her hand out; the only other option she could see would be throwing the coins, which sounded painful. “ i’m not sure how much i’m meant to tip a bard, but hopefully this will suffice. i only brought so much with me today, and i’m afraid i must buy my supper as well. ”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest request I’ve ever heard,” Isabella said with a small chuckle, setting her instrument to one side regardless. It was hard to keep up her melody when trying to hold a conversation. “Not dreadful. I’ll take it. That’s almost a compliment,” she smirked. Her surprise evident when the other held out her offering. “You tip what you think we are worth, be it a penny or a gold ring. It varies, but given the circumstance, it’s quite generous. Here,” she closed the other’s fingers over her money, signalling she could keep it. “You’ll know for next time. Just have a good meal tonight, yes?”

#{ chat }#{ dohui }

irresolue:

music had always been an alleviating time killer; a mindless task that required little effort. but dohui had never really had the chance to listen to a bard perform. she had talsgaar — though she much preferred conversing with the simpleton. that was how she found herself sitting before a performer, laying over a withering box as if it were a makeshift table. at the sudden complaint, she couldn’t help but laugh. on the inside, of course. on the outside… “ don’t be greedy. ” dohui deadpanned, her cheek resting lazily over her palm. “ at least you have an audience. most here want nothing more than the silence teshayra brings. ”

“You say greedy, I say quite fair. Singing for my supper is less appealing if I don’t get the coin to buy my supper,” Isabella retorted, quirking an eyebrow in the other’s direction. She didn’t mind terribly if people weren’t able to pay here. Unlike most of the bards she had met who were just bards, she had ulterior income to work in her favour, but with so few to know that, it didn’t sit right with her to dismiss that as greed. “Is that a subtle way of telling me to put my lute away? You could have just asked, you know.”

#{ chat }#{ dohui }

seasvng:

AT THE CURRENT MOMENT, purnelle did not have her violin with her and it was a darn shame. the girl before her was a talented musician and skillfully played the lute. purnelle wouldn’t have minded playing a jig alongside her. with a beaming smile, she softly claps. ❝ fret not. the music was enjoyable regardless. ❞

The kind words brought a smile to Isabella’s face, and she played a harmonious cord in response. “I’m glad you think so. I was starting to think my strings need to be returned and I was suddenly tone deaf,” she chuckled. “It is good to know it was appreciated at least.”

#{ chat }#{ purnelle }

licnhcarted:

A LAUGH , & she obediently applauds , whistling for good measure . she hadn’t meant to linger , truly , far too busy to dawdle for a song – but the melody had reached her ears & she had found herself caught . she can hardly begrudge it . good entertainment is hard found in this distant land .

❛ i can offer a handful of coppers & a knife , but i’m afraid i wasn’t expecting a concert . ❜

Isabella bowed, accompanying the gesture with a dramatic flourish of her hands. She was in performer mode, and part of that was the back and forth with those who watched her. “Thank you, thank you very much,” she straightened up, the acknowledgement enough to put a smile on her face. “You can keep your coin, there is little use for it here.”

#{ chat }#{ nicolette }

Task 2

Isabella Du Lac // Character Influences

#sov:task

partedway:

“because we don’t have a boat, maybe? and i don’t know how to build those either. i think if i tried i might break a nail.” she grinned. “get it? nail? gods, but really. i think we may be stuck here. do– do you mean we ought to go along with it all, so as not to be left behind? if so, i agree. i can’t think of anything else to do.”

“No boat, no supplies, no way to get home or to contact them. Things aren’t looking good, no?” Isabelle pointed out. The cynic in her was struggling with the prospect of just accepting their lot when things seemed so dire. “I don’t see that we have a choice. It’s far better to be stranded together than stranded alone, I think.”

#{ chat }#{ camilla }

“I usually charge people to listen, you know,” Isabella called out to her audience. She had been playing her lute for a good few minutes now, singing a song of her own composition to accompany the tune, and nobody had offered her so much as half a piece of bread, though her jovial tone belied that her words were little more than pandering to gain a reaction from the crowd. “If money is short, I’ll accept applause and compliments. My ego is quite wounded.”

#sov:start

partedway:

it was far from camilla’s least favorite. that honour went to the streets of norden, with their biting cold (and, in the slightly warmer seasons, as well as in the orphanage, biting insects). that wasn’t to say the landscape in which they found themselves was nice, but where it ranked in her hierarchy of experiences had yet to be decided. “the tents are sort of cozy,” she joked. “no, but really. why turn back now? not why, actually. how could we turn back now?”

“Why stay?” Isabella countered. Her stubbornness was perhaps triggered by her own failings. She had seen the journey as one of her adventures, when perhaps she should have considered it with more caution. “I can’t help but feel like we should be leaving well enough alone. If we can’t turn back, how can we hope to succeed in isolation?”

#{ chat }#{ camilla }

seasvng:

&&. OPEN !!

PYROS GIVES A HEAVY sigh. as he sat upon the bench, a slight gust of wind had knocked his bookmark to the ground. he tries to lean forward to pick up his fallen bookmark but he fears he might rip open his stitches if he bends over. ❝ excuse me, ❞ he starts, swallowing his pride. ❝ do you think you could — please — pick that up for me ?? ❞

Isabella was about to hit him with a snarky retort- but one look at him showed her that he didn’t really want to be asking her, and she swallowed her words, bending down to pick up the fallen bookmark. “Only because you said please,” she held it out to him, her light tone conveying the joke in her words.

#{ chat }#{ pyros }

partedway:

“i–” it struck her that her friend didn’t know. of course not. isabella was not a person she’d wanted to advertise her relatively newfound wealth to. sometimes camilla wanted to have it both ways – to hold both her stolen fortune in hand, as well as the right to act as she had when she’d had nothing – but if that was possible at all, it was far too complicated. “my home. everything had already been build; there was to be no do it yourself nonsense. oh, gods, imagine if we came all the way over here only to find it a bit too difficult and turn back around.”

“I supposed it would be difficult to leave behind the comforts of home to live in a pitched tent,” Isabella acknowledged. The prospect of being stuck in this place was not appealing, and the brunette visibly grimaced at the thought. “Don’t say that,” she groaned. “I’ve been to lots of places in my life, and I have to say this is my least favourite. I long for the day we can turn back around again.”

#{ chat }#{ camilla }

→ ❝ state your name. who are you? ❞

full name: Isabella Du Lac

status/occupation: Assassin Bard

nickname(s): The Nightingale

age: 23

date of birth: August 3rd

gender identity: Female

sexuality: Pansexual/Polyamorous

original kingdom: Ironhaven

kingdom allegiance: Ironhaven

spoken language(s): she is only truly fluent in the common tongue, although she is relatively well-travelled and has picked up many phrases here and there, it’s not natural to her.

views on the balance: neutral. She’s not politically minded or have any fixed loyalties so it doesn’t matter much to her how things end up.

→ ❝ i’ve never seen you before. ❞

face claim: Ivana Baquero

height: 5 foot 3

weight: 110

body type: Slender, petite, lightly muscled

hair color: brunette

eye color: dark brown

accent: Ironhaven/English

scars: Several from her assassin training, including a prominent mark on the side of her neck. Though it is not her deepest or largest scar, due to it’s placement it’s the one most people notice.

tattoos: None

clothing: She usually wears light leathers that provide much freedom of movement and will never be found in dresses or skirts, though she has a penchant for jewelry.

→ ❝ where do you come from? ❞

home kingdom: Ironhaven

current location: teshayra

financial status: Though her mother is quite well off,

criminal conviction(s): No official convictions, miraculously.

→ ❝ what name do you take? ❞

father: John Bullens (Missing, presumed dead)

mother: Millicent Du Lac

sibling(s): None

children: A boy, adopted by her former lovers.

→ ❝ how can we trust you? ❞

horoscope: Leo

hogwarts house: Slytherin

7 deadly sins: Wrath- as an assassin, she is the tool for the wrath of others. Violence and anger is all she knows, and it’s almost second nature to her by now.

theme song: Titanium, David Guetta

→ ❝ i’ve heard about you. ❞

Her mother was a highly successful military commander who was quickly demoted when she became pregnant by a man under her command. Though Isabella has only met her mother a handful of times, there’s always been a tense undertone at their meetings because of that.

Similarly, her relationship with her father is just as distant. Though she saw more of him than her mother, and he was certainly more affectionate, he disappeared without a trace, presumed to have been killed in action.

She was raised by her aunt and her husband, though she doesn’t regard them as parents to her. They provided a roof, and food, but little else. If asked, she’d tell you she raised herself.

She was originally supposed to train to be a soldier, but her small stature worked against her. Instead, she found her calling as an assassin, her size being an advantage as it allowed for speed and stealth. Her weapon of choice are daggers for the speed and dexterity they provide, though she is adaptable enough to use other weapons from time to time.

Though the bard facade was concocted as an excuse for her to travel from land to land on jobs, she finds genuine solace in music, and is a natural storyteller.

Giving her son up wasn’t a difficult decision for her. She’s never known what it is to have a parent, never mind being one, however, she feels tricked by her former lovers, manipulated into the whole thing, and that is where her regret stems from.

#Task 1 #featuring the most basic edit in all the land #sov:task

partedway:

camilla snorted. “they’ll do that without your prompting. i wondered about coming here, you know. i thought the people were more valuable than what i was leaving behind. i am a materialist, it seems.” or perhaps just a person who didn’t like the cold – who didn’t want to go back to it. “i wonder if we could build something better than a tent. if it would be worth the effort.”

“What did you leave behind?” Isabella asked with genuine curiosity. For her, leaving her home behind was a no brainer, but there was little to keep her rooted in her homeland. she had been playing the role of the wandering minstrel for a long time now, and it was almost embedded in her nature. “If it isn’t worth it, then all of this is a waste of time.”

#{ chat }#{ camilla }

partedway:

if camilla was a little bit bothered at not being grouped with the lords who’d never had to share – it was true that she wasn’t really one, but being reminded of it was unpleasant, and besides, nobody was supposed to know – she didn’t show it. instead she simply shrugged. “i suppose it must be difficult to organize such an endeavour. i will give them that.”

Camilla seemed to be acting the mediator, and while it was probably sensible- and more apt to helping Isabella calm down than arguing with her would be- it was vastly debilitating to her need to vent. “Perhaps they could try and organise a piss up in a brewery for practice,” she sulked, petulantly.

#{ chat }#{ camilla }

lovedared:

“ Isabella, a beautiful name. ” he noted, offering a smile. The last thing Nathaniel wanted to do was scare her off. He’d lost many potential friendships all due to his duty as a king. “ I take it you’re a commoner, then ? ” He was careful with his words, not wanting to offend her. Nathaniel had known many incredible people that just so happened to be commoners. “ I’m afraid this graveyard is scattered with strangers and friends alike. ”

Isabella had a naturally distrustful nature. It was par for the course, given her profession, but she was allowing her guard to slip, her hostile petulance no longer a factor in their conversation. “I’ll tell my mother you said so,” she joked, by way of lightening the mood. Of course, that was if she ever saw her mother again, but that wasn’t anything he needed to know. “Far from common,” she jutted her chin out, her innate confidence getting the better of her. “My mother made a name for herself, though there are no titles in my lineage. I suppose that would make me a commoner in your eyes,” she conceded. Her gaze swept across the burial grounds, the weight of his words settling on her. “Strangers, friends, and perhaps family, all crying from their graves to be remembered. I would not deny them that.”

#{ chat }#{ nathaniel }

seasvng:

ISABELLA WAS ONE OF the people that pandora could only handle in doses. that was lucky, seeing as pandora was one of the many people in the world that anyone could only handle in doses. sometimes she was a loose cannon, sometimes she was a joker. right now, she was feeling playful. ❝ well, perhaps once i find a seamstress wandering about, i’ll feel reckless enough to set fire to this one. ❞ her brow quirks. ❝ it sounds as if i’ve found new words to live by. ❞

“Good luck with that,” Isabella chortled. Even if a seamstress should be wandering around the place, she doubted they’d had the materials to hand to whip up a dress to Pandora’s liking. “Have you ever lived by any other words?” she questioned the other.

#{ chat }#{ pandora }

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