#reydelosladrones

[ivandelangel]

En cartelera. Rey de los ladrones. 

[chiara-famigerata]

Pirates Have Infiltrated the Castle || Alejandro and Chiara

Chiara supposed she was getting along fine at the castle thus far. Well, she didn’t like it, but in a lot of ways it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. After all, an angry mob hadn’t chased her out of the castle yelling “Pirate!” yet so all things considered she was doing just fine. It was hard though, being so far away from her ship and her crew. That was her home, her family. Here, there were so many…nobles. They just seemed to ooze money and snootiness. She hadn’t met all that many people yet, but she could already tell she wasn’t going to enjoy keeping up the rich-girl-from-a-noble-family act. She really didn’t have a choice though, not with so many people counting on her getting the position of general in Korin.

She played with her long, brunette braid absentmindedly as she wandered through the castle. Although she was already beginning to understand the layout, today she was wandering for a different purpose. Chiara liked to be more familiar with her surroundings than anyone she was up against and this castle was no exception. She needed to know her escape routes, hiding spots, secret passages. She needed to be prepared for any situation and she couldn’t be if she didn’t know what to expect from the castle.

While caught up in her thoughts about whether or not the bookshelf she was walking past was actually a secret door, she wasn’t looking where she was going. All of a sudden, she was running into someone: a man…a familiar man. However, she didn’t have much time to think about it because, before she knew it, she was falling.

[paratel-conseiller]

Masterpieces || Alejandro and Marianne

Marianne had heard…whispers. She wasn’t even royal advisor yet but she had eyes and ears throughout the castle. It wasn’t that she didn’t like people, or that she was against everyone but she didn’t exactly trust people.  She’s been playing these games with the rich for too long to trust people. There was a name though, Alejandro. Based on his description and what her people knew about him, she had a feeling that it was someone she knew. Now, it had been awhile, a few years at least, since she had seen him. But he was just the type to pull something like this.

She was waiting by the shore, looking out at the ocean. She wasn’t a big fan of having the servants assigned to her do things, but she sent one with a message to this “Alejandro” to meet her in this spot at this time. She figured the only way to know for sure was to meet him. She shook her head, thinking back to the “good old days” in Korin. Sure, she was barely scratching by in terms of money, but the friend that she made in Korin certainly got her where she needed to go. Without the money she made there, she never would have been able to get herself set up in Paratel after her father died. Although him being in the competition might…complicate things, she couldn’t deny that she was really hoping it was him. She had a few friends in this place, but only one or two that she felt she could trust. Him, him she could trust. 

[thestonedbearbeau-blog]

19

Musical talent was an ideal practice of those that not had the capital to afford such novelties played to them. For those that were poor, in want or need, it was a form of creationism…in which one could bear their soul and create an escape for a life that they could not themselves suffer through. Yes Beau was one of these men, and whether he was in the slums, or in taverns, he understood what music was for, and why it was the poor and those in want and need who performed. After all, he himself was in crowds, both as the performer and the bystander, enjoying what came of the people which had a story to tell with their words and soulful tunes.

And so it came today, that he heard the sweetest sound coming from a distant echo. The struming was just above a whisper inhis ear, and he immediately would recognise it as music. Real music…rather than what the nobles would pass off as art in tones from strange instruments. Beau recognised the brother of the oud that he often played: the guitar, and no woman’s crooning song would be as melodious as it! His heart, steel and ice as Jexel itself, melted almost instantly at the talent, and without having to think further, he’d seek it out. It was decided.

What he came upon was something he’d seen too often. A man alone on the steps of a building, guitar in hand, with fingers caught in a trance that could be seen in their eyes. Beau yearned to play with him— to sit next to a man he simply spotted and bring the dual power of two instruments— brothers in all but name, to the ears of a public in need of an ease. Instead, what he could offer to the man, without needing to leave the beautiful sounds was his own voice, which was as rich and precise as the guitar that rung with a clear crispness, and perhaps gravel upon his part. It was the least he could do, to provide a talent to the talented, if only for a brief moment.

"Et parce que ma peau est la seule que j’ai.Que bientôt mes os seront dans le vent!Je suis né dans cette caravane…Et nous partons allez viens. 

…Allez viens…Allez…”