Mercy, Mercy, As endless as the sea

endless | hercy

When she opened the door, Hector felt the weight of the letter, folded small as he could get it, in his breast pocket.

Yours

“Mercy.” He said, his voice quiet, “I…”

Hector faltered. Words were not his forte, and as much as he wanted to reach forward, to hold her close and tangle his hands in her long dark hair, he knew it was no way to great a lady, and Mercy was not only a lady, but the one he…

“You as well.” He managed, rubbing a hand at his stubbled chin. It had been nearly two days since he had shaven, and he was certain he looked like a street rat at this point, a look he had managed to pull of as a younger man, but one he tried to avoid now, as it made him look far too much like a Vitello.

His eyes were locked on her. She was here. He was here.

Yours

“I got your letter,” he said softly, and reached forward, his body ignoring the screaming in his mind as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Mercy,” He said again, She was here. She was safe. He was safe. His hand lingered, and when it finally fell back to his side, he took the smallest of steps forward and took a breath, deep, clean air.

He was a traitor to the Vitello name

He remembered his brother’s eyes on him as he left the throne room, the way his niece had cried out in the night.

Vitello no more.

He was simply Hector now.

The letter was weightless, but he felt it still, crushed against his heart.

“I love you.”

#~hector~#p:hector #~endless~#~I don't need a hero but I could need you~

Chewing on her lip as he spoke, Mercy wasn’t quite sure what to expect. When he told her that he had recieved her letter, she was sure that her heart dropped. Pulse wild as though she couldn’t possibly contain her heartbeat.

Had he come to criticise her for taking the coward’s way out and write rather than summon the courage to speak to him?

No, that was not her Hector.

Perhaps it was merely just a courtesy, telling her that it was too late but he was too kind to leave her waiting in agony.

Either way she wasn’t sure that she wanted to here him finish the sentence he had started, beginning to interrupt him. “Hector, I-”

Then if her heart had been beating out of control it just about stopped. All it had taken was a simple touch. So light and yet she wondered if it might be her undoing. It certainly felt as though it could be if the pain she felt in her chest as his touch was lost was anything to judge it all by.

A step closer was taken by him and although it had been something she’d only recently realised she wanted, Mercy still found herself lifting a hand to lay it on his chest to ensure some space between them. She found herself struggling to coax air into her lungs, as though they refused to do their duty until thy knew where all this was going.

I love you.

The words echoed in her head

Never had a man said that to her.

Countless times she’d heard it from her mother or sister but never from a man.

“I-”

There was nothing she could say that he would deserve but the hand that had been so fleetingly keeping distance between them fell away. Her last attempt to push him away abandoned.

“I supposed you’d better come in then.”

“Something I can do for you?” Iapetus asked, still in particularly high spirits after seeing just about everyone he hated in this world led away like cattle to be jailed. Oh, happy day. He’d noticed the approach out of the corner of his eye and had turned with more good humor than he usually possessed, a stark contrast to last week’s scowls and snarls. “Speak up now, I’m happy to help.”

#~isiah~#gc:isiah #ok this is complete rubbish but I have missed them heaps

“Lord Balor.” The tone and address is far more formal than they were used but with so much time away and so much changed Mercy couldn’t be confidant in where their relationship lay. There was something she wanted to ask - something she needed from him - but it hardly seemed right for it to be the first topic when there was much else to catch up on. “I trust you have heard the rather unfortunate news about my father?” She’d been rather tamed the last few days, though it seemed within moments Isiah’s mere presence had drawn out her usual ways of innocent words filled with hidden venom, accompanied by a smirk that you would miss should you blink.

endless | hercy

Hector sat against the wall, his back pressed flush against the cool stone, his head resting on his knees. He wished for sleep, quite actively, but sleep had yet again evaded him. All he could see was the face of his brother, of his uncle, over and over, a never ending cycle of heartbreak. He wouldn’t change his choice, he couldn’t, he could no longer support his family, the only family he’d ever had, when they let things like this war happen, when Antony had killed these people, when his father had stolen their land.

Sighing loudly, Hector pushed those thoughts from his mind, lifting his head and leaning it against the cool stone. He wrapped his arms around his knees and looked up at the ceiling. When he was a boy, he had thought that the ceiling went on forever, reaching towards a sort of heaven, somewhere among the stars. Sometimes he almost wished he continue to think that way.

Somewhere on the other end of the hall, a door opened and Hector head voices, a low conversation most likely about his family or the free folk, or maybe even about him. He put his head back on his knees and tried to ignore the nausea that rolled over him in waves, wishing he could go back, wishing he could stop his brother, his father, from making these mistakes.

But he couldn’t.

He took another deep breath, clamping down on the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. Standing, he ran a hand through his hair and adjusted the sword that still hung loosely at his side and headed down the hall, his feet moving slowly one in front of the other.

When had his life become such a mess?

How could he fix this? Or fix himself, fix the feelings that bubbled inside him, threatening to explode with each step. He needed…

He needed someone…

He knew. His feet found the familiar path down the hall, down steps and around corners, Hector did not look up the entire time, his gaze focused on his feet until..

Hector looked up at the door, wiped the slight wetness from his eyes, and knocked twice.

#~hector~#p:hector #~endless~#Look I actually replies to this one #Sorry I suck Xd

The feeling of uneasiness that she’d felt since the Keep was invaded had never really left her. While she was almost certain that she was secure in her position, there was much mystery as to what would happen to everyone else, those who had sided with the Vitellos. Though if she were being honest with herself, which she had not allowed since such candidness had caused her to write a letter, there was really only one man who she felt concern for. Only one whose welfare she felt the need to know about.

But she’d done little about it other than spending longer than she’d like thinking all over in the peace of her room.

Walking the halls didn’t fill her with the same usual confidence, there were too many wildlings that she didn’t know what to make of and because of that she’d kept to her room whenever she could, only venturing out now and again when the boredom grew too strong.

Though again, if she were being honest it was partially to avoid the very person who was taking up so many of her thoughts.

Two knocks on her door pulled her from similar thoughts again and she rose, smoothing her hands over her skirts as she approached the door slowly. There was some hesitancy in her steps, something she’d barely known until recently and Mercy couldn’t fathom who had possibly sought her out. But after a moment she pulled the door open to meet the face of whoever it was.

Brown eyes widened as she found herself tilting her head back so they could meet blue one and a single name escaped her lips.

“Hector.”

Had her hands not been resting on the doorframe perhaps she would have reached for him, gods knew that slim fingers itched to. To check he wasn't just a figment of her imgaination. But she was rendered motionless by the sight of him.

She had so much to say. So much that the words that all rushed to come out all at once instead found themselves getting lodged in her throat and leaving her uncharacteristically both speechless and breathless.

What could she say in person that she hadn’t already in her letter? Her words were so much less eloquent in person.

A letter than she was still none the wiser over how it had been received. Such was her hesitancy, now cause completely by the man in front of her. As much as her heart seemed to be begging her to say something heartfelt, to carry on the honesty she’d allowed pen and paper to tell, Mercy just couldn’t seem to voice it.

So instead she settle for a truth wrapped in formality.

“It’s good to see you.”

CIVILIANS:

Before participating, please ensure you have read the event.

The hour for everything to change has arrived. The free folk have spilled into the city, but they don’t make for the houses to burn or for the civilians to capture. Their eyes are on the Keep, and it is soon that the citizens of Westedell discover why: the lords and ladies have been taken hostage within. ( The entire Keep has been taken hostage, with no signs of salvation in sight. ) The wisest thing for the civilians to do would be to stay out of sight, but we know that not all will do such a thing. What is it they think as they see the home of their King taken over by those who want justice against the Vitellos? What is it they plan to do: allow it to happen, fight back, or something else altogether? Remember that the free folk will leave most civilians alone, but if any come forward to fight — the warriors will fight to kill. In a time of upheaval and danger for the civilians, it is now that the rest of the world learns who they really are.

“i feel like god; alone.”

PARA RESPONSE: Blindsided

It was strange to think that just this morning her biggest concern was whether or not the poison that she’d left in her father’s favourite wine upon her departure had taken affect yet. How caught up in her own selfish gains she’d been. All that had been on her mind upon her journey home had been being able to tell Isiah that she’d finally used the gift he’d given her and if all went well House Thivia was hers and it would be so firmly allied with House Balor. Any thoughts of the other man she’d written to whilst tending to her sister were pushed to one side so as to not get her hopes up for fear of rejection.

But now it was clear that there was far more going on in the world that her selfish, closed view had allowed her to see. Here she was, peering out her window and watching wildling after wildling pour into the city with no sign of them stopping or any real resistance. There was a flood of them and now knights to form a dam to stop them creating an unbeatable deluge.

A fleeting thought was spared for Isiah but the girl was more than confident that the Lord would have found himself a way out of any trouble and it wouldn’t have even surprised her if he was partially the cause of it. No, it was the Vitellos and the knights who defended them who she reasoned would be most at risk.

At the thought of knights her mind inevitably found itself drifting to one in particular. One who she’d grown so unexpectedly fond of. And she was scared for him. Not only was he a knight but a Vitello as well, surely that couldn’t bode well for him in such an uprising.

For once in her life Mercy felt worry for someone other than herself of her sisters. He was just so good, so noble and the world was never kind to people who possessed such a nature. Now she was glad that she sent that letter, at least her feelings were known to him even if she still hadn’t been completely honest with him or herself.

To think she’d been so concerned in herself she’d missed all the signs, dismissed the army at the gates as unimportant. Trivial almost. But they were far from it, posing a very real threat to someone that she had to admit her feelings for had far surpassed simple fondness.

Now all she could do was sit and wait for the outcome.

#realm.event2 #~self~#~blindsided~#tw murder #it's implied- I gues #submission

Dearest Hector,

Dear Hector,

Hector,

You may find it odd me writing to you now, after all this time - I know it is something I myself am finding more than slightly strange. I can only apologise for the rushed manner of this letter, I do not have much time and much I would like to say. I must confess that there was a part of me that had hoped that perhaps your memory would fade as time passed with me her at home. That I may have been able to find some sort of respite from the thoughts of you that were never as far from you as I might have liked. You complicated things, you see.

I thought I had succeeded, being back here at home it was easier to banish all thoughts of the Keep. That is such the effect you had on me, any thoughts of the place inevitably led back to you. With my sister Joy being so sick I had thought that my mind would be too full of worry for her and my time too taken with caring for her to have any of it left for anyone or anything else. It was the case for quite sometime.

At least until my sisters started questioning me about my new life and all the people I’d met. Had I made any new friends? What were the nights like? Who was the most handsome? The kindest? And the most beautiful? Who did I miss most? This flood of questions seemed to give me only one answer for the majority of them and while I cannot say I confided the truth with my sisters, it is the reason that I have found myself writing this letter.

Which brings me back to how strange I found it to be writing this in the first place. You see, I have never been the sentimental type, never really thought that I owed anyone any explanations for my actions - not even my sisters receive them - but yet once more you seem to have broken what is the norm for me. I feel as though I owe you an apology at the very least. You have always been nothing but kind to me, clearly seeing something in me that I struggle to believe that could possibly exist. And I have done nothing but put distance between us and continue to disappear without warning or explanation.

It is only now, with some hindsight, that am I able to say that I regret my actions deeply. Of course I understand that I am probably far too late in my confession, if that is what this outpouring of words can be called, and you may have given up on me. Perhaps that would be by far the best thing for someone as good as you. I cannot say that I know how you will react to all this but I hope that if nothing else we might see each other once more. If only because you deserve an apology in person rather than through lifeless parchment.

Yours,

Mercy

@hectorclayton

#~hector~#l:hector #~letters~#~I don't need a hero but I could need you~

halle-ogden

She looked over, the woman’s face betrayed the tone in her voice, causing Mrs. Ogden’s polite smile to turn into something of a smirk. “Let me guess, you share the same tragedy, born into a body that can do nothing but gain attention yet-” she said looking over to her own husband. Boys only enjoyed what they couldn’t have. “It is quite sad that we no longer thrive at these things-or at least in my case. I do miss being able to command a room instead of walking in as an accessory.”

#~halle~#gc:halle #au: halle #1920s: halle #~1920 au~#omg I know. They're so wonderful

“Finally someone who shares in my woes. You’d think men would know to appreciate something when they have it. Especially when they're so good at appreciating all the other fine things in life.” Mercy’s own features shifted to match the smirk of the blonde, though her eyes filled with disdain as her gaze moved to their darling husbands. “Oh but we could still command this room, with ease. Should we go into the light now and are seen to be enjoying ourselves all eyes would be on us. Hell, I’d even go as far as to say they’d flock to us. The difference is, I think we’re both aware of how little that gift actually gets us. A house, a husband, security but what about the rest of it?”

Hector pressed his hand flat against her back as they reached the door, Smiling to the doorman, the two headed for the elevator, and Hector felt his breathing pick up, “Oh, well you know how serious I am about card games, do you not, Miss Thriva?” He asked, smirking slightly. She was one of very few who knew just how serious his gambling could go, “Dancing? We must. You know I’ve learned the latest steps just to impress the ladies at the dance hall, you’ll have to tell me if I’m any good.”

#~hector~#gc:hector #au: hector #1920s: Hector #~1920 au~#~au~#~I don't need a hero but I could need you~

Tugging him into the elevator a mischievous glint in her eyes as her hands ran him his arms to rest on his shoulders. “Mm, you are always so serious with them. Never seems to help you win against me though.” Any humour that had been in her eyes soon faded at his next words. Mercy was sure they’d been intended innocently enough but she still found her blood cooling at the thought of Hector with someone else. “Oh? And which ladies would these be? Are you sure you don’t want to be sneaking around with one of them instead?” Perhaps it was petty of her but she hated not being able to declare them as each other’s. Not to mention it was always at the back of her mind he might finally find someone more worthy.

“Mm. It’s moments like this I think it’s a shame my sons are who they are,” he noted, shaking his head. If the boys hadn’t ranged from loons to dumbbells, maybe he could’ve sent one to see about the chief’s wife, but as it was… Well, he was good at gauging people’s skills, and he knew seduction wasn’t on their repertoire. “And a manhattan for your troubles,” he added, brightening back up as he slid the cocktail her way. “What of your fella in the force?” he asked, adjusting his sleeves.

#~isiah~#au: isiah #1920s: isiah #~1920 au~#~au~

“Well, we all have our shortcomings and you have me to make up for theirs. At great personal cost too, I'll have you know. It takes so much self restraint to interact with these people it almost pains me." After laughing, Cece took a sip from her drink, humming in approval. "But seeing as you've been so good to me, I can easily make myself available to her as a friend. She likes to surround herself with those more youthful than her so it shouldn't be too hard." Her posture stiffened slightly and her eyes dropped before meeting his once more with a level stare. "What about him?"

“Alone on a day like this? After such a fright,” He squeezed her arm lightly, “I’d be monstrous to leave you be all alone.” Hector feigned shock, pulling her around a corner, her building looming in the distance, “We can play some cards, listen to the radio. I hear they’ll be releasing some new hits soon.”

#~hector~#au: hector #~1920 au~#1920s: hector #~au~#~I don't need a hero but I could need you~

“I know, it’s almost criminal of him isn’t it? Perhaps you should arrest him.” A giggle escaped her as he pulled her around the corner, caused by the movement and also the thought of being rid of her husband. "Cards, huh? And what will my prize be when I beat you?" Mercy chewed on her lip slightly before grinning, her heart beating faster the closer they got to the door. "I hope you're planning on dancing with me while the music is on."

“Now,” He said as they walked, her short legs moving much faster than his long ones, “Is good ol’ Lester home still, or did he leave before you came and found me and the other officers?” Hector asked, looking down at her. He shoved his hand in his pocket to distract himself from how clammy it felt.

#~hector~#au: hector #1920s: Hector #~1920 au~#~au~

Figuring they were far enough away she linked her arm through his. Even not she could always claim the stress of her ‘experience’ made her light-headed. “No, he’s out for the evening. Leaving me all alone to wallow in my boredom.” She heaved a mock sigh before tilting her head to fix him with a smirk. “That is unless you’ve got no plans for this evening either. Care to keep me company?”

He lifted his own drink in greeting when he caught sight of the little brunette. “Hello to you too, CeCe,” Isiah answered with a dry chuckle. He always liked a good pun, and she had them in aces. “Always good of you come by and brighten this joint up a little. Got any word of mouth for me today?” he asked as he began fixing her a manhattan.

#~isiah~#au: isiah #1920s: isiah #~1920 au~#~au~

“How rude of me - Hello Isiah.” Mercy met his chuckle with one of her own, an almost fond smile touching her lips. “I come here so often I fear the place just wouldn’t be the same without me. I might as well be a part of the furniture.” Pursing her lips she considered his question with a furrow in her brows. “The police chief’s wife is on the prowl for a new lover. The last one won’t go anywhere near her after the beating he took when they were discovered. From what I’ve heard, she’s as lose with her words as she is with her morals. I’ll see if there’s anything else I can think of while I’m enjoy whatever you’re concocting for me.”

“Well if you’re sure and certain.” Hector tapped the pen on the book and flipped it closed, stowing the pen a little too carefully in his pocket, “I’ll walk you on back to where you are flattin’ and take a look, if that’s all right with ya?”

#~hector~#au: hector #1920s: Hector #~1920 au~#~au~

“One hundred percent sure.” Of him, at least. “Oh would you really? That’d make me feel so much safer.” Chancing her look, Mercy placed a hand on his arm lightly as she looked up at him, still hoping she was pulling off the act of being simply a grateful citizen. “Thank you, Officer, you sure know how to make a girl feel looked after.”

halle-ogden

She followed her husband in, he was oblivious in his already desiring eyes, he looked for anything, cigarettes, booze, tits. It was something that she had been seeing since she was born, though Mason did hold some higher respect than her father ever had. She hid behind the shadows, watching as he moved close and stared at one of the cigarette girl’s tits. She took a deep breath in and took place ready to watch the night out.

#~halle~#au: halle #1920s: halle #~au~#I'm so sorry for the size of this gif!

Leaving her husband at the door, he was far happier without her by his side anyway, she quickly found herself a place on the outskirts. Her eyes wandered critically over everyone there as she wondered how quickly she’d be able ot get away, she had much more fun plans lined up for the rest of the night. After a few hellos given with a smile that no one seemed to realise was fake, she was ored. With a sigh, Mercy headed back to her spot, catching a woman who looked just as unhappy to be there as she felt. “Don’t ya just love these things?” Though her face was bright, sarcasm lingered in her voice.

“Well hello there, come on in! It’s still a little early for the regular crowd so our bartender’s out, but I can get you whatever you want.” Isiah called over his shoulder when he heard steps coming in from Sky Lounge’s foyer, turning to press his hands to the bar’s smooth wood surface. “What’ll it be? Coca-Cola? Root beer?”

#~isiah~#au: isiah #1920s: isiah #~au~#I would apologise for the pun but I have no shame

“I’m early enough no one else is here? Thank goodness for small mercies.” Though she spoke the words with a tone filled with innocence, the smirk twitching at the corner of her lips betrayed her. Though she truly was glad to not have to fake an smile for the moment, it made her cheeks ache. Pulling herself up onto a stool with all the grace she could muster, Mercy leaned dainty elbows on the bar. “Why don’t you surprise me?”

“You do know reporting a crime that isn’t real is just as bad as actually commitin’ one?” He asked over his notepad.

#~hector~#au: hector #1920s: Hector #~au~#~I don't need a hero but I could need you~

“Well of course, Officer.” Nodding in earnest, Mercy made sure her eyes were suitably wide and her voice held just the right amount of sweet drawl. “I’d never lie to you, I just don’t have it in me to break the law.” The first part was truth, the second part, well the less said about that the better. he chanced a look out the corner of her eyes to check if they still had their audience or her little act had been sufficient for them. It had been their second close call in as many weeks, they were getting careless. “I promise that’s what I saw.”

Name: Mercy 'Cece' Thivia

Occupation: Socialite

Affiliation: Balors

Mercy never knew her mother but she knows well enough not to ask questions about her. All she knows is that she inherited her eyes from her and a skin tone that needs more power than most to give it that pale complexion everyone covets. She was raised by her father, a wealthy businessman who often dealt in the illicit, who always had high hopes that his daughters beauty would attract a husband to invest in his business.

Sure enough, eventually someone put themselves forward - one of her father’s peers - and though she put up one hell of a fight about it they were married. Now, Mercy lives out her days enjoying married life, pretty easy to when your husband is usually in a drunken stupor. Speakeasys are where she spends most of her free time, when she's not tied up in those gastly events she has to attend, and it was there she met Isiah Balor. To this day she’ still not sure what about her caught his attention but nonetheless the information she relayed to him seemed over their first few encounters seemed to be enough of an incentive for him to off her father for her. For that he has her gratitude and loyalty and whether she hears something that could be of the slightest interest she goes to him.

Without her daddy dearest and with a husband who most of the time doesn’t care where she is, the whole city is her playground. The freedom she’s unexpectedly gained is something she takes full advantage of, as well as people’s tendency to underestimate her. She hides behind sweet words and pretty smiles, always out to get what she can from those around. Mercy truly was just out for herself, and the Balors too of course, but anyone else was simply collateral damage. Until she met Hector Clayton and now maybe she doe have something to lose.

Vices: smoking, broad shoulders, dancing, gossip, a certain policeman.

#~au~#~1920 au~#prohibition bio #please excuse my graphics #but you have no idea how long it too to get Mercy to look like she was from the 20s

charlenebalors-blog

“Possibly as a metaphor for what you suspect. A nasty, oblique, powerful underlying meaning. Most fitting for this place, wouldn’t you say, Lady Thivia?”