#emperorvalmont

[vasylia]

19, 31, 46

19 — what do they think of before falling asleep at night?

Vasylia’s mind is always preoccupied with something, be it an inane thought or something a little more profound, but her inability to properly process her emotions unfortunately extends to her thoughts. If you were to ask her, and if she felt inclined to answer you, she might tell you that she thinks of nothing at all when she sleeps at night — but that’s not strictly true. She thinks about how some nights the goose-feathers in her pillow feel soft as she puts her head down to sleep, and how on other nights she can’t feel that comfort at all. She thinks about the people she’s raised, but more importantly she thinks about the people she hasn’t. Her mind drifts towards picturesque scenes of calm waters and moonlit forests that she knows she’s never seen, but they’re scenes she’d like to. Nevertheless, if you asked her, she’d say she thinks of nothing at all; if she was determined to be honest, she’d say that her mind is never occupied with anything except what’s in front of her. But, of course, that’s not true either.

31 — most prized possession?

Marking five years beneath her tutelage, Levana gifted Vasylia with a glass pendant, shaped to look like a coffin. Inside the glass coffin, there’s a rose which moves between life, wilting and death, completely of its own accord. Vasylia actually owns very few possessions — she’s not particularly materialistic, and while she is afforded the same status as a noble, owning things has never particularly been in her interest. This pendant, though, is special. It’s an echo of her power, the ability to (hypothetically) make and unmake life as easily as breathing. The rose at the centre of it is an ensign of the Undying, a blend of snakes (thorns) and wolves (beauty). She wears it around her neck at all times, as devoutly as a married woman wears a ring, and it’s become something of a reminder of what she could be capable of. / @undyingpriestess.

46 — do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

Neither, really, so I’m just going to create a third option. Vasylia expresses her thoughts through body language. She wasn’t always so difficult to talk to; while no-one would ever be quick to call her chatty, in her earlier years under Levana’s tutelage she was less difficult to reach, and she would yield more about herself. She does express her thoughts to people she’s close to, such as Levana and possibly Maiden, but you learn much more about her if you study her body language. Wooden shoulders when she’s paying attention, a cant of her brows when she’s interested, the twist of a half-smile when she’s amused. The way that she wrings her wrists at the side of her thighs when they tremble. Her love language is almost certainly acts of service, but there are very few people that actually see this side of her. She avoids talking about herself as much as she can get away with it.

[bardglory]

date: thirteen of ten. location: receiving hall, evening status: closed to @emperorvalmont

It takes him near an entire week to finally track Reynaud down for a conversation. The prince has been notably difficult to get a hold of, and those who’ve managed to tell him where the man might be at any given time never arrive quickly enough for Armel to coordinate a happenstance meeting. The receiving hall is, blatantly put, not his favorite place to hold any sort of conversation, but dinner is done and guests in attendance are few in numbers. He spends some time people-watching; he watches as Lady du Pont misses her mouth with her spoon entirely, spilling soup right onto the bodice of her dress. Her husband is quick to furrow his brow and cover her while she desperately tries to sponge the broth up with a napkin. The man who’d been wiggling his eyebrows at her -- Armel doesn’t think he could name him if he tried -- averts his gaze.

There, at the end of the hall, sits Reynaud. His step-mother and father disappeared some time ago, excusing themselves from the meal at hand to do what Armel can only assume are better things than listen to a bard -- himself -- carry a tune. It takes some time, some patience, some plucking at strings, but Reynaud does eventually stand and look towards the doors with what Armel can only think to describe in his head as wanton longing. Everyone had witnessed the embarrassment at the tourney, everyone had seen the way the crown had fit on his head, lopsided and stained with mud, as if it was never meant to be there at all. Everyone except Armel, who’d been occupied with more important things.

For example: not watching the apparent embarrassment the spar had been, and instead debuting some new tune for a crowd who had as little interest in the matter as he. He tries to recall the notes, but they’re muddled with the haze of shock. Most about the day is a blur. All he can remember is smoke, the scent of burning flesh. Reynaud moves to exit the hall, and his time has come. He waits, at least, until the prince slips out from the hall and into the corridors, trails after him like a dog looking for scraps until he finally manages to catch up. He only wants to ask a few questions; most summarily, what was it like to be totally humiliated? “Your Highness,” he calls, voice soft. It’s just the two of them, some guards -- hopefully the implication of privacy will be enough to get the man to stop walking.

[bardglory]

10, 15, 48

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

I’d say he’s definitely had dealings with depression, although that’s more an effect of the situation he’s in than it is a part of him he has to carry all the time -- something he knows he should be thankful for, but struggles with. It comes and goes in waves, for the most part, with winter seasons where he can’t leave Castle Tyrholm on a whim really doing some significant damage. He just appears mopey, to other people, but it’s like something in his brain won’t click. Writing becomes harder. He tends to spend more time in his room. He eats less -- or more, occasionally.

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest: finish this seventeen-part story-song he’s been sitting on for forever. He’s performed all the way up to part ten, and the narrative is really starting to ramp up, so the sooner he finishes it the better. Smallest: purchase a new lyre! He’s picky about quality, so this is easier said than done.

How do they express love?

Words and acts of service! He’s not shy about expressing his feelings through poetry or song or even just outright professing them at potentially strange moments, and if you can get Armel on the hook, it’s basically a you-say-jump-I-say-how-high sort of situation.