#hst.tellus

[flippancies-archived]

open !

“the sky is a mirror,” jehanne explains, a hand motioning toward the night’s bare heavens. “what are stars but reflections of souls taking rest in the sea?”

jehanne makes certain her roots are indistinguishable. she speaks slowly, tone controlled. her accent is a patchwork of handpicked traits from every kingdom: the gentleness of arvum, the sincerity of calx, the certainty of imber, and beneath it, the artfulness of littus. she leaves no trace of pestis — history has had her homeland carry connotations of untrustworthiness, the lot of them likened with pirates and thieves.

of course, they aren’t wrong. religion was just another brand of trickery, painting over the gaps of what was yet to be known with LIES disguised as prophetic wisdom. it offered two things people this age so desperately craved: salvation and some bullshit explanation.

and it paid. oh gods, it paid. “let me weave your souls into GOLD so you may find your place in the heavens.”

[coolhcnds]

back turned to the speaker, helena could not help but roll her eyes at the sound of another customer. years of training had prepared her to take care of her father’s DARKER DEALINGS, but with her brother sleeping off another long night of his more indecent proclivities, helena was stuck to hold the andronikos name together by tending to the ILLUSION of legitimacy. the false smile she had cultivated replaced the annoyed downturn of her lips, as she turned to face the patron. “good evening, is there anything I might help you to find?” the silver tongue of her lessons shines through, but remains tempered by assertion. “I plan to be closing shop as soon as dusk falls.” there is still TIME before that happens, but it cannot come soon enough.

[mourniingdove-blog]

      Dinners were often uneventful, nothing but chattering and gossiping–which can be entertaining, but the subject of conversation was something she knew little of–and Ingfrida was itching for an adventure. Why shouldn’t she, in a new land she had only heard stories of? With her father’s head turned to the scholar from Calx with tales of the holy city’s history, Ingfrida slipped out of her seat and tried to subtly walk towards the doors she presumed led to the kitchens when she came across another,  ❝  Pardon me, would this happen to be the way out?  ❞

[kcddish]

“Aye, you’re speaking to the captain of the lady nightshade.” An amused smirk curled her lips as she turned to share a look with one of the rowdier members of her crew, taking a deep sip of drink from the mug in her hand. “It’s cute, love, that you were expecting someone a touch larger, perhaps?” The smile fell slowly from her face. “I have plenty of large men and their loyalty, should I have any need for it. What is it I can do for you that is so important it’s worth interrupting our celebration.” It wasn’t unusual for strangers to approach the captain for jobs, however, the crew had succeeded in a hearty bounty after their last raid and were enjoying a well-deserved and rowdy drink or ten to mark their success.

[nodustollcns-blog]

Going towards town center, it didn’t take long for him to spot HER. Flowing brown hair and eyes so beautiful that he wasn’t sure he’d seen anything more PURE or GOOD, this was only his third or fourth time happening upon her. Why was he so taken? Was this what they meant of ‘love at first sight?’. He hated himself, knowing the house that she came from is the same he had been programmed to hate with every fiber of his being. Even so..

Still, there was no talking to her. He can get away with just admiring, right? There was no harm in that..

However, his mind couldn’t catch up when he saw her drop something and he practically ran to pick it up. Weaving through the crowds, it seemed his rule on not talking to her was already out the window. “Missus..” Was she married? He wasn’t sure he’d be prepared for that answer. “I think you dropped this...” He passed her the item, eyes dancing over her features as an instinctive grin spread over his features. 

@bencficent

[fckoffhamlet]

angry green eyes like daggers glared at the man before ophelia as she swallowed her poisonous words, the ones she so wanted to spit into the mans face & watch him CHOKE. the lady in waiting was a lot of things to a lot of different people, a daughter, a lady, a friend; but had been long enough that the word whore meant nothing to her other than a job she used to have. blood BOILING as smiled the sweetest of smiles & leaned in close to the foolish man who open his mouth to the redheaded fox of a woman  ❝  call me a whore again & you will lose that precious manhood of yours. ❞  she whispered harshly before pulling away that sweet smile still across her face, before she turned away from the pig of the man pulling her cloak up around her face. eyes catching the face of someone before her, the young woman just bowed her head & smiled softly.  ❝ i truly hope you didn’t hear any of that nastiness. ❞

[masonstckely]

the HOLY CITY holds a combination of kingdoms, each more hostile towards the other than the next. macsen is fairly certain that, had they not been standing on sacred soil, the people would all be creating CHAOS. more than one glance at his armor and the ARVUM insignia decorating his uniform with disdain. whispers of his people sound much the same: KILLERS. murderers for taking revenge on the reapers that sought to wreck their land -- though macsen was not entirely certain that his rulers were behind the poisoning of the late monarch of pestis, rumors fly, and each ignorant fool thinks himself more knowledgeable than the last. on his end, macsen doesn’t know MUCH. his worker’s hands have turned into soldiers and he wields them in the battlefield as his queen commands. life took his wife, his little girl, and there is really nothing more for the man to do than to resign his attempt at NORMALCY and give in to the wishes of his kingdom: if he cannot serve his family, he will serve his realm. a flowing fabric retreating a stranger’s body catches his attention, straying the soldier from his stroll. he picks it up as it falls to the ground and runs to meet its owner. “ excuse me -- you dropped this. “  

[rubctosis-blog]

Edgar finds himself amongst royals and priests and, yet, he’s BORED. He misses the confines of his home in Calx, misses hunting along impossible terrain where the wind whips his face. Rather, now, he finds conversation monotonous and the thought of sharing space with Imber is enough to make him go mad.

Rather, he has his guards escort him out into the town village, watching as gaze follows him closely. He is sure many have heard the rumors of Edgar Waldemar and the harsh, brutal family he came from. Even if Edgar was better than the previous rulers, there was no doubt gossip that propelled his violent family name.

Through the village, he recalled a laundress that, if he remembered correctly, heard was from Calx. Truthfully, Edgar did his best to only go to townspeople that were from Calx for his services. Call him biased but he didn’t trust any other, especially not now.

Nodding his guards to the entrance, he entered the small shop, glancing around to the few others inside. By his stance and remaining guards with him, the few stragglers quickly exited, leaving their things behind. He then nodded the rest of the guards outside, returning his gaze to the shop and, to, who he assumed was the woman from Calx. He smirked softly, bowing his head in a formal greeting. “I suppose I’m too intimidating for your customers to stay.”

@oliviastcford