written by ari. theopulenthq roleplay blog
Tsarina Antonina Stasov. 29. Master of Arts | intro.
Viceregal Meilin Feng. 27. | intro.
Elisa Caetano. 40. Former Queen of Brazil. Member of the Resistance | Intro.

#extradirty

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@opulentsarina
written by ari. theopulenthq roleplay blog
Tsarina Antonina Stasov. 29. Master of Arts | intro.
Viceregal Meilin Feng. 27. | intro.
Elisa Caetano. 40. Former Queen of Brazil. Member of the Resistance | Intro.
ulrich had taken it upon himself to roam the grounds before curfew with imperial guards at his side. through the palace halls, over the grounds and down into the underground, he can't say that he finds surprise to find someone there nor is he surprised by her interrogation. a chuckle shakes his shoulders as the nobleman finds space at her side. "it may raise suspicion if i, part of those responsible for this situation, allow you to linger while others have been ushered to their quarters, yes."
"Hmm," she replies, looking at him entirely unimpressed. "Then you didn't see me. I'm a figment of the imagination. A specter!" she says grandly, plopping down on the nearest couch in a most unladylike fashion. Her drink spilled all over her wrist, the couch. He didn't take that as the obvious cue to leave, so Antonina looked at him curiously.
"What? Do you plan to throw me over your shoulder?"
Papango didn’t mean to be out past the curfew. They’d been hidden away in a corner, all clocks out of sight, working diligently. Every moment of the disastrous tribunal was desperately important, and someone needed to write it all down to ensure the finer details weren’t lost to time, or worse- twisted and magnified into some cautionary that hardly resembled the truth. Papango was happy to do it, but it took a great deal of time and research to take the care that was required. They’d been working in the library since noon, and had made quite a dent in the work before they noticed the palace was eerily quiet, and was jolted into a frenzy upon seeing the time. Quickly, quietly, they moved through the palace, but the sight of a palace guard moving their way sent them down the stairs into the gallery. An easy enough place to camp out for a while, until the coast was clear. The sight of the Tsarina was something of a relief- at least they wouldn’t be alone if they were caught.
“I have no stake in whether you go off to bed or not, but the guard outside might not be so kind.” Their breathing was slightly heavy, the effort of speed-walking through the halls in search of their chambers catching up with them. “Are you doing something nefarious that I should be aware of before I get too comfortable?”
Antonina laughed. "It does look a bit spooky doesn't it? Staring pensively, drinking alone, when there are criminals and assassins running about," her eyes shone. "It's a bit like something out of a novel.
"No, not nefarious. Nothing beyond staying up past my bedtime. What about you? Why are you panting like that? Running away from someone?" Antonina gave the stranger a once over, dragging her eyes from their face down to their feet and up again. Oh, what the hell. There was no point in being scared, was there? No more scared than she was during the day at least. "Nevermind, I don't even care. I should be lucky to have some company. Come, sit and drink and - " she nodded at the materials they held. "Are you an artist?"
A fighter. Yet it felt lately, Tian Feng had tried to adopt the role of a protector. When had the lines blurred for him between the two? Of course, he was fine - flocking to the Emperor, delegating detail, and securing the royal family, before slipping out himself to establish a perimeter. She should have rushed first to the chaos of the political hall; where leaders screeched to their military, as Angelo had made sure to do upon him.
Though, something settled at the honesty in her words - in truth, he'd thought Meilin was making a joke at first, and was not quite sure how to reply. Usually, a disappearance on his part was met only with a scolding from a superior - and now... he was his superior.
" Wh- what are you doing? " Tian Feng half laughed in a question as Meilin began to attempt to climb the tree. " Oh, for fu- " He adjusted, coming down a branch to extend a hand to lend assistance, hoping to help pull her to the branch just above her, so they could be on one level. It was clear, he was not avoiding her today, not anymore. " No, it is where I come to do the opposite. Give me your hand, if you insist to be so stubborn. " A sigh followed. He would not be at fault for her falling and breaking something.
Meilin gladly took his hand; she was in no mood to pretend that she was adept at climbing trees. She probably hadn't climbed a tree in, well, ever. That was not on the list of things Meilin cared to do. As she tried to get settled she faltered, losing her balance despite Tian Feng's strong grip. She fell halfway into his lap and when she pulled back, their noses brushed. A giggle escaped her at the awkwardness and the absurdity. Really, why was she in a tree? And why was that fact about to send her in another fit of giggles? As though she were a school girl nervous at the first handsome boy who spoke to her. Ridiculous.
"Sorry," she said, sliding over so she could look at him. "I don't mean to interrupt your 'opposite of thinking.' Except, yes I do. Is it all as bad as I think it is?" She ran her fingers over the branch and shuddered at a bug crawling near her hand. "I need to know. Tell me and then you can go back to not thinking," she said eagerly.
"And don't. Sugar coat it. But translate any military terms - I have limited knowledge on that."
As soon as Meilin appeared in the courtyard - Tian Feng had noticed her approach. Silent, eyes watched her grow near, but brows in surprise as her gaze found his, and a frown appeared. " Perfectly fine. " Arms crossed, and he frowned deeper. " Why did you look up? Two dozen people, at least, have passed beneath without a glance. "
He'd been delighted by the fact - for it was not Meilin he avoided, but just everyone. Something was stirring in his chest, a sense of dread and a cold, icy grip on his nerves. Bad had come, worse would follow, and it was beginning to feel like a hopeless cycle. What a joke of a running theme. " Were you... looking for me? " Suddenly, it dawned on the Commander just how expectant the Viceregal appeared to be.
"Of course I was looking for you. I don't know, one tends to look everywhere when violence breaks out and the one you're looking for is a fighter." Two dozen people had been walking along probably without wondering if someone they knew was injured somewhere. Now that she was able to lay eyes on him, she felt the anxiety melt away. "I checked everywhere: your rooms, the infirmary, all thousand corridors. Trees were the logical next step."
Meilin paused a beat, and her impatience took over as it seemed that her betrothed was not coming down - at least, not fast enough for her tastes. With a quick huff she started to climb, but didn't make it very far before a twig snagged on her dress. "You aren't injured, correct?" she asked just to be sure, raking her eyes over him.
"What, is this where you come to think?"
@classiqals | Meilin & Tian Feng | Twin Soul Courtyards
Meilin had not been able to find Tian Feng since the trouble began, and not for lack of trying. In the hours after the initial wave died down, and she confirmed her own family was safe, her attention turned to her betrothed. If China was involved, Tian Feng would be as well. And if he was involved, there was always a risk...She'd told her ladies to leave her alone so she could check the infirmary alone.
It was fortuitous that he wasn't there, but frustrating since he didn't seem to be in any other corner of the palace. She came outside, intending only to cross the courtyard to make it to the next set of buildings, but then-
"Commander Zheng?" she said, tilting her head. "I've been looking for you. I'm glad you're all right-" she faltered. "Are you all right?"
Open to Everyone | Underground Map Gallery | A few minutes after the 10 PM Curfew
The flickering light of the candles casts shadows that dance on the wall. It reminds Antonina of a ghost story she heard once. As everyone in the Russian estate rooms headed to bed, Antonina realized she would not be getting any sleep tonight. It was a condition she'd had since she was small, first cold anxiety that made her sweat, and then racing thoughts that lasted hours. Oftentimes she would find a corner to practice an instrument or take a lantern to a hallway and practice her dancing. Her hard work was commended, and no one seemed to notice how difficult it was for Antonina to sleep.
How did things go so terribly, and so fast? She stares into the flame, turning each detail she knows over and over in her mind. It isn't enough. For the first time in her life, she wishes she'd been taught statecraft. It is hard to come to terms with feeling so uniquely useless. And so she drinks and lets the grandfather clock tick the seconds away.
Suddenly there is noise behind her and she assumes it's a guard. "Are you here to send me to bed like a naughty child?" she asks, not bothering to turn.
Marriage is one thing. An alliance is quite another. In his case, both come hand-in-hand. And with it, a budding respect akin to affection grows. But Angelo has seen much of the world, has involved himself in every variation of an affair once before. He is keenly aware of what others are capable of. And so, as he leaves his latest briefing with his advisors, Angelo does not instantly growl or condemn. Instead, he waits, standing with a bemused smirk on his lips. Playing with the rings on his fingers, until the viceregal comes to attention.
"Viceregal Meilin." He echoes, opting for the formality she greets him with. Despite himself, he chuckles. Wonderful irony; speaking so formally, whilst caught in such a damning position. "I see your friend isn't much for putting on a show." Popping his lips, he muses; "Pity." Shrugging, he rounds closer to Meilin. A look of inspection, though lacking in judgement.
"No need to look a fright. I am the last man to judge - I have seen it all." Still, Angelo cannot resist the taunting quirk of his brow. "Though, I must ask - is Tian Feng not performing up to his usual standards? Or yours, for that matter?"
The Emperor is laughing at her. Meilin looks towards the sky and asks the heavens to strike her down. Just one small favor. When nothing happens, she sighs and clasps her hands together. She would not fidget, no matter how much she wants to.
The Emperor takes it all in stride and in fact seems to be enjoying himself. Just as Meilin wonders when he was going to bring up her betrothal - there it is. Not...exactly what she thought he was going to say. Her eyebrows raise before she's able to school her features.
"Hmm. I admit I know nothing of Commander Zheng's standards," says Meilin. Not firsthand, at least. Midori seemed to be hinting at something before Meilin made her angry, and the Emperor was looking at her with a knowing smirk. "And I don't know why I would," she took a step closer. "I'm not a married woman yet. But you have nothing to be worried about, I assure you. The Commander and I are like-minded enough. We will do our duty."
𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: PAÇO IMPERIAL, THE INFIRMARY 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌: PHAI SUPPASIT BOONRUANG 𝐓𝐎: OPEN STARTER ( 0 / 3 )
the infirmary is so chaotic that it reminds phai of lal qila. the terror from back then, how it choked, how helpless he felt. it has been long enough that he is more confident in his skills as a physician, though that truth does not make the panic ebb away. nurses, physicians, patients' loved ones, run from one place to another, the smell of blood metallic in the air, adrenaline swimming through his veins. although he is not a physician here, they let him help with patients nonetheless, and if there is someone he knows he needs help with, he does not shy away from asking it. when someone new enters the infirmary, phai is quick on his feet, eyes looking them over for any visible injuries. "hello, are you hurt?" his voice is gentle, panic pushed to the background, knowing calming your patient down is a vital step. "tell me what's wrong, and i will do my best to help."
Elisa needed information - what exactly had transpired, who was responsible, and what would happen next. The whispers from servants and the few courtiers who deigned to speak to her just weren't enough. And so she made her way to the infirmary, all but invisible to the people rushing around her. No one cared to worry about where the once Queen of Brazil was wandering off to.
In the infirmary, she met a physician with kind eyes and gave him a smile. "Oh, I'm not hurt. These are old wounds," she said, gesturing at a few lingering, lurid bruises that peeked from her gown. "I thought I'd come to see if you need help...I have a bit of experience, you see. My name is Elisa."
@opulentsarina @espionisms @whispcrings | at the infirmary following the end of the pre-tribunal (not a group thread!)
Life has never been quite as exciting, since Katarina and the Stasov's left Russia for Brazil. A blessing and a curse, that fails to bring any comfort amidst the madness. In the mess, Katarina finds herself a target for those dissatisfied with the outcomes. Her wrist sprained, a cut on her lower lip. She stands, impatient and rattles, awaiting a physician in the infirmary. "That wasn't supposed to happen." She says, voice a tremor over a whisper. Typically rigid and stoic, Katarina feels her hard exterior shatter in favor of her fears. "No one was ever meant to get hurt like this."
"Shhh, shhh it's okay. It's all right," Antonina says, motioning for her sister to sit down. "Look at me. Kat, you have done everything right. Now and even before, all of the work you have done to bring the criminals to justice. We could not ask for a better Master of Law and Justice." She pulls Katarina into a quick hug - aware that anything more would truly make her uncomfortable - and turns with a furious expression.
"The Tsarina needs a physician," she snaps at the nearest passersby. "Now."
open starter ›› ft. parvati sharma. where: a gazebo in the twin souls courtyard. status: accepting replies.
reading proved difficult when eyes lingered upon her wherever she went. but the walls of her chambers had not lost the suffocating feel confinement had given them, the memories of the french's invasion of lal qila more vivid than before; here she was at least surrounded by nature, her lungs filled with fresh air. so long as she didn't look, maybe she could pretend no one was staring. parvati turned the page. yet the words were seen but not comprehended. a sigh fell from her lips. ❝ i do not bite, ❞ she softly said, willing her voice to not tremble with nerves. ❝ is there something you wish to say or ask? ❞
Antonina stomped through the courtyard, cheeks hot with fury. How had things gone so badly? Her mother and siblings had served the world the criminals on a silver platter (well...wooden. Did the Grand Tsarina own any silver?) and what do they do?
She was off to scream at someone - no target in particular - when she noticed someone familiar. Was that...Yes, a Princess of the Mughal Empire. Though Antonina didn't know her name, she paused, rather shocked. Was confinement over already?
The Princess clearly wanted to be left alone, but Antonina couldn't help herself. "Well, I'll take my victories where I can. Yes, I do have something to ask: How can so many disasters happen, one after the other, and yet you're cleared of suspicion so quickly?"
@opulentsarina | Antonio and Elisa, The Day After the Pre-Tribunal at Elisa's Chambers
When it rains, it pours, and Antonio scarcely recovers from the weight of his shortcomings when it is doubled down. In the haze of panic and chaos, Antonio wonders - is this his destiny? To forever be on the cusp of losing someone? To feel the pendulum swing forward-and-backward, with no reprieve? The answer comes in the quiet of after. His first love, his current love, still living and breathing. Even in seeming peace, there is torment, and Antonio decides to calm his guilt by paying Elisa a visit in her chambers.
"I'm sorry." He murmurs, from his sleepless condition in the chair across from her bed. His dark eyes caught in the image of Elisa, living and breathing. The first woman he failed. Certainly not the last, if Brazil's current climate is anything to go by. "I failed to protect you once more."
Elisa rolls over and swallows the disgust that threatens to show on her face. She needs him pliant, but strong. This weakness simply will not do.
"Antonio," she says, acutely aware that she's laying in bed in nightclothes and not once in the days since she returned has Antonio cared about such things. "You have tended to my wounds, given me a place to stay, and my chambers are so secure I slept through those terrible murders entirely. Your swift and wise leadership has prevented even more bloodshed - particularly with Scotland and Germany I hear." More laboriously than is necessary, Elisa stands and takes the few steps to where he's sitting. Her hand drifts up to cup his cheek. "Do not apologize to me. Go on, lie on the bed. You need to rest. I'll take the chair."
@thenxghtwemxt | Meilin & Angelo | Near the entrance of the Chinese Estate Rooms at Paco Imperial, Evening
Meilin grabbed the shoulders of her lover, pressing him closer. She felt her hair coming lose as she slid against the stone wall - not the perfect place for the rendezvous. They had just been on their way to her rooms, but one thing had led to another. He kissed her until she felt she couldn't breathe, like this was the last time they would ever meet. He broke the kiss to murmur Meilin's name reverently, and Meilin sighed in response - what was his name again?
Thankfully the sun had gone down, with that and a small tree giving them some paltry cover. We should go back to my room, Meilin thought as he fumbled with the sash on her robes. God, what is your name?
His lips trailed on her neck and Meilin decided once and for all it didn't matter. "Yes," she breathed. "Ye-NO!" One sharp knee to his gut and he went sprawling, and when he saw what had made Meilin shriek he quickly ran off. Smart man. Meilin hurriedly retied her robes, wrote off her hairdo as a lost cause. "Emperor," she bowed and hoped she sounded at least somewhat composed. As an afterthought, she swiped at her lips with a finger. "What a pleasant surprise."
odette's gaze did not move from the items before them. they stood, tall and straight as they listened to the words of others. " i do not dispute that. it is a grave reminder, but yes, an important one. " the advisor said softly. arms remaining crossed across their chest, they glanced at the woman; battered and bruised. odette wondered what had happened, but said nothing. it was not theirs to know, unless she cared to share.
" i know if that were my queen's blood on the blade, i would riot to have it removed from public sight. " they said. it a way, it almost felt merciful that their queen had died by poison and not bloodied by a blade — but odette knew poison could be a terrible death, depending on what was used. every night, they prayed their queen did not suffer. " i would not be surprised if somebody out there considers it disrespectful to the dead. especially if it is their own. "
"Your Queen?" Elisa tilted her head, immediately curious. The person next to her spoke with an intense conviction that told her that the Queen was important to her. Important personally, maybe. Then again, people often worshiped their sovereigns.
"Which Queen do you serve?" she asked. "I don't know who proposed to keep the weapons on display, but the final decision would need to be the King of Brazil's, don't you think? It is his hall after all," she turned back to stare at the weapons, pride fluttering in her chest. "I can assure you, King Antonio would not allow such a thing if he felt it was disrespectful. But still...it is gruesome. I suppose the best way to show respect to the deceased is to find out who would do such a thing."
Maya nodded in agreement, her diplomatic training guiding her response. "They do have a timeless charm, don't they?" she replied warmly. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Maya Rousseau, the Deputy Prime Minister of France, and this is my son, Nicholas." The mother smiled warmly at her son, encouraging him gently. "Nicholas, why don't you say hello to our new friend?" With his ever so curious and friendly nature, he turned to the woman with a bright grin. "Salut" he exclaimed cheerfully, his youthful energy evident in his voice.
"My name is Elisa," she smiled. "I'm...Well," she looked down, abashed. "Just Elisa," she put her hands on her knees and leaned down to Nicholas. "Salut," she said, "I hope you're enjoying your time in Brazil. I think it's the best Kingdom in the world," she winked at Maya. "No offense."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she grinned, moving as if to walk off, "But it's just...I noticed you seemed you were looking for something?" Her eyes drifted upwards and off to the distance. "Maybe I could help?"
His eyes drop immediately to her side. The sluggish limp of her head, combined with her tilt to the opposite side. Then, immediately, he emits a low gasp of admirable disbelief. "But you made it." Antonio reminds, eyes wispy with thankfulness. "Against every odd, despite the years..." You did not leave me, you did not perish. "I will take care of you." He vows, the very same vow made in another lifetime. Without hesitation, he places his chin on the crown of her head. Movement purposeful as he bids away every advisor or lady's maid that threatens to near. Having lost her once, he could not deign to lose her again.
"Elisa..." He looks down upon her face, beautiful as ever, caked in red. "Who's blood is this?" Was it hers? Was it those who took her away? Rare is the time that Antonio feels this - unadulterated hate. The kind that could unravel it all - the peace of his kingdom, the sanity of his mind, and worst of all. The family now in his care. "No, no. I am not passed. I am alive. But you, you. We thought you were dead, Elisa." A hiccup of grief rises, beyond his control.
"I buried your empty coffin. I mourned you. I-" I thought I let you go.
Elisa basks in Antonio's affection like it is the sun. Just like that, he vows to take care of her - the words she needed to hear. Not just his doctors and servants, him. If she hadn't already known that he was remarried with children, she would be shocked. How did his love still run so deep? To personally escort her to the infirmary without even questioning how she arrived or where she'd been exactly? To look at her with such love when he had a wife? It is scandalous, but Elisa knew that once again she would be shielded from scandal.
When Antonio asks her whose blood it was that stained her face, she knows she has a choice. To downplay it and redirect the question entirely. To admit that it was someone else's blood, thus painting herself as someone fierce and determined. But Elisa isn't interested in looking fierce just now; she wants to be the one being saved again.
"It's mine," she says, "It's mine, my love. But please don't worry, I'm going to be all right. I'd suffer it all again and more to be here. Antonio, I'm right here."
A laugh escaped Lorenzo, and he smiled, grateful to be near to someone willing to be as unserious as him. “They were great big, terrible things. They’d wrap their long fins around the ship, often splitting them in half. They’d roast the sailors for their lunch with a single breath.” He gave her a look of mocked terror. “Of course, I was good friends with them all, so they spared my ships.”
He looked back at the fire with some yearning, wishing he could stay and enjoy watching the flames lick the sky, but Meilin looked at him in a way that felt so expectant. Lorenzo kept his boots on, but he followed after her. “It was difficult to adjust at first, but after a while you get used to being at sea. After so many years, it starts to feel more like home than the land.” Another laugh as he thought back to the more unpleasant memories. “Months at sea could be terrible, but it was the people, not the sea, that made it unbearable. A ship full of other sailors is only interesting for so long.”
Meilin stepped into the water, leaning down to run her fingers through the receding waves. Eventually something interesting would pop up. "That sounds horrific," she sighed. "Months trapped on a ship with sweaty men. No offense," she said, in a tone that said she didn't particularly care if she was causing offense or not.
"What about this place? Is Rio de Janeiro more or less uncomfortable than the sea? I like it fine, I suppose," said Meilin. "But I miss Hong Kong terribly. And I always feel like something...bad is about to happen." She paused, slightly horrified at how morbid she was being. "Look at me," she said. "It would be more cheerful to watch them set things on fire."