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Marietta was the type of girl who always moved at her own pace. She wasn’t slow, mind you, but she certainly was not fast. Right now, everything was going much too fast for Marietta to keep up. The wind was howling, the rain blinding, and everything was far too chaotic for the girl who much preferred peace and silence. This was an experience; the exact kind Marietta had sought out for this day. This was also an experience that reminded Marietta why she never truly seeks them to begin with, despite her dreams and lusts for them.
“Oh!” Marietta said shocked as she felt herself be lifted to the air. She was mere inches away from the captain. She was so close she could see the droplets slide from his face one after the other. She could feel his chest move up and down with quick, even breaths. Marietta’s face was a bright crimson red. The only thing good that came of this retched storm was that it covered her embarrassment. This was not the time for childish thoughts. She was stuck in the middle of Poseidon’s wrath. The last thing Marietta should be doing is observing her savior. (No matter how handsome he may be.)
Marietta tore her eyes away from the Captain and looked back over her shoulder as her sister shouted after them. Oh, foolish Hebe, although Marietta could not help but feel touched by her youngest sister’s concern. “Everything is alright, Hebe!” Marietta called after Hebe in a volume very unnatural to the young woman. “There’s no need to-“
She cut off just at that moment. Grey orbs followed the gaze of the man that held her to a onlookers. From there they had to travel but just a bit lower to see a girl, limp and unconscious. Marietta rubbed her eyes; afraid the water was ruining her vision. But no, no matter how much water she cleared the image did not change. Princess Emilia was lying in the sand, eyes closed, and body slacked.
Marietta did not hear the swear. Her mind could not process the scene before her. One second passed, then another. “Put me down, Captain!” Marietta’s senses finally came to her. “I’ll make do. You must help the Princess.”
Is she alive? That thought haunted Marietta. She could not tell from her position in the Captain’s arms if she was breathing. Though, if she were not to be breathing… Marietta’s eyes moved sharply to where Hebe was approaching. “Keep your gaze away!” She snapped much more harshly than she would typically intend. She did not want her sister seeing what very well may be a corpse. Especially if it was someone close to her… or simply that it was the Princess.
Any girlish, childish thoughts Marietta had just moments ago had completely and utterly vanished. The gravity of the situation had completely sunk in. And Marietta, for one, very much regretted this adventure out into a storm. Something, she suspected, was a feeling shared by many others on this day.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Marietta was the type of girl who always moved at her own pace. She wasn’t slow, mind you, but she certainly was not fast. Right now, everything was going much too fast for Marietta to keep up. The wind was howling, the rain blinding, and everything was far too chaotic for the girl who much preferred peace and silence. This was an experience; the exact kind Marietta had sought out for this day. This was also an experience that reminded Marietta why she never truly seeks them to begin with, despite her dreams and lusts for them.
“Oh!” Marietta said shocked as she felt herself be lifted to the air. She was mere inches away from the captain. She was so close she could see the droplets slide from his face one after the other. She could feel his chest move up and down with quick, even breaths. Marietta’s face was a bright crimson red. The only thing good that came of this retched storm was that it covered her embarrassment. This was not the time for childish thoughts. She was stuck in the middle of Poseidon’s wrath. The last thing Marietta should be doing is observing her savior. (No matter how handsome he may be.)
Marietta tore her eyes away from the Captain and looked back over her shoulder as her sister shouted after them. Oh, foolish Hebe, although Marietta could not help but feel touched by her youngest sister’s concern. “Everything is alright, Hebe!” Marietta called after Hebe in a volume very unnatural to the young woman. “There’s no need to-“
She cut off just at that moment. Grey orbs followed the gaze of the man that held her to a onlookers. From there they had to travel but just a bit lower to see a girl, limp and unconscious. Marietta rubbed her eyes; afraid the water was ruining her vision. But no, no matter how much water she cleared the image did not change. Princess Emilia was lying in the sand, eyes closed, and body slacked.
Marietta did not hear the swear. Her mind could not process the scene before her. One second passed, then another. “Put me down, Captain!” Marietta’s senses finally came to her. “I’ll make do. You must help the Princess.”
Is she alive? That thought haunted Marietta. She could not tell from her position in the Captain’s arms if she was breathing. Though, if she were not to be breathing… Marietta’s eyes moved sharply to where Hebe was approaching. “Keep your gaze away!” She snapped much more harshly than she would typically intend. She did not want her sister seeing what very well may be a corpse. Especially if it was someone close to her… or simply that it was the Princess.
Any girlish, childish thoughts Marietta had just moments ago had completely and utterly vanished. The gravity of the situation had completely sunk in. And Marietta, for one, very much regretted this adventure out into a storm. Something, she suspected, was a feeling shared by many others on this day.
Marietta was the type of girl who always moved at her own pace. She wasn’t slow, mind you, but she certainly was not fast. Right now, everything was going much too fast for Marietta to keep up. The wind was howling, the rain blinding, and everything was far too chaotic for the girl who much preferred peace and silence. This was an experience; the exact kind Marietta had sought out for this day. This was also an experience that reminded Marietta why she never truly seeks them to begin with, despite her dreams and lusts for them.
“Oh!” Marietta said shocked as she felt herself be lifted to the air. She was mere inches away from the captain. She was so close she could see the droplets slide from his face one after the other. She could feel his chest move up and down with quick, even breaths. Marietta’s face was a bright crimson red. The only thing good that came of this retched storm was that it covered her embarrassment. This was not the time for childish thoughts. She was stuck in the middle of Poseidon’s wrath. The last thing Marietta should be doing is observing her savior. (No matter how handsome he may be.)
Marietta tore her eyes away from the Captain and looked back over her shoulder as her sister shouted after them. Oh, foolish Hebe, although Marietta could not help but feel touched by her youngest sister’s concern. “Everything is alright, Hebe!” Marietta called after Hebe in a volume very unnatural to the young woman. “There’s no need to-“
She cut off just at that moment. Grey orbs followed the gaze of the man that held her to a onlookers. From there they had to travel but just a bit lower to see a girl, limp and unconscious. Marietta rubbed her eyes; afraid the water was ruining her vision. But no, no matter how much water she cleared the image did not change. Princess Emilia was lying in the sand, eyes closed, and body slacked.
Marietta did not hear the swear. Her mind could not process the scene before her. One second passed, then another. “Put me down, Captain!” Marietta’s senses finally came to her. “I’ll make do. You must help the Princess.”
Is she alive? That thought haunted Marietta. She could not tell from her position in the Captain’s arms if she was breathing. Though, if she were not to be breathing… Marietta’s eyes moved sharply to where Hebe was approaching. “Keep your gaze away!” She snapped much more harshly than she would typically intend. She did not want her sister seeing what very well may be a corpse. Especially if it was someone close to her… or simply that it was the Princess.
Any girlish, childish thoughts Marietta had just moments ago had completely and utterly vanished. The gravity of the situation had completely sunk in. And Marietta, for one, very much regretted this adventure out into a storm. Something, she suspected, was a feeling shared by many others on this day.
It was a darkness that Emilia first remembered, before a pounding like someone had taken a mallet to her head began to make itself known. But through it all, Emilia had no memory of anything in her vision, merely sounds of screaming and shouting with a general sense of chaos that went along with the feel of wooziness in her head and the sting of cold rain upon her skin. Faintly, Emilia could feel herself being hauled, but was otherwise unable to utter anything more then a faint groan, her eyelids feeling as if they have sacks of rice hooked upon them.
Her head turned from one side to another, as she began to stir, but even as she tried, her whole body felt like lead, and any movement started her head on another whole round of pounding, that Emilia merely groaned more and ceased trying to move.
Faintly,she could make out voices of people. A familiar one that she remembers hearing but unable to put a face on, and another Emilia could almost be certain was one of the Antonis girl's, yet try as she may, she could not place which one of them did the voice belong to. Where was she? She remembered riding on a horse, going through the market. What had happened? Why did she feel dirt between her fingers and toes, and was that water seeping through the material of her chiton? It was a purple material of the finest silk from a land too far for Emilia to pronounce it's name appropriately, but what she did know, was that water would easily ruin the material.
There goes one of her outfits.
Another groan, and then her eyes slowly tried to open themselves, only for the princess to grimace when the light proved too bright for someone who had momentarily passed out for the briefest of seconds, her memories hazy at best at what had occured. Had it been minutes? Hours? Was she still where she last remembered? "Where... what happened?" she asked in a soft voice, one that could barely be heard unless one had noticed Emilia had stirred from her still position on the ground. How long has it been since her entourage had returned to fetch help for her?
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Apr 20, 2020 13:45:25 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on Apr 20, 2020 13:45:25 GMT
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It was a darkness that Emilia first remembered, before a pounding like someone had taken a mallet to her head began to make itself known. But through it all, Emilia had no memory of anything in her vision, merely sounds of screaming and shouting with a general sense of chaos that went along with the feel of wooziness in her head and the sting of cold rain upon her skin. Faintly, Emilia could feel herself being hauled, but was otherwise unable to utter anything more then a faint groan, her eyelids feeling as if they have sacks of rice hooked upon them.
Her head turned from one side to another, as she began to stir, but even as she tried, her whole body felt like lead, and any movement started her head on another whole round of pounding, that Emilia merely groaned more and ceased trying to move.
Faintly,she could make out voices of people. A familiar one that she remembers hearing but unable to put a face on, and another Emilia could almost be certain was one of the Antonis girl's, yet try as she may, she could not place which one of them did the voice belong to. Where was she? She remembered riding on a horse, going through the market. What had happened? Why did she feel dirt between her fingers and toes, and was that water seeping through the material of her chiton? It was a purple material of the finest silk from a land too far for Emilia to pronounce it's name appropriately, but what she did know, was that water would easily ruin the material.
There goes one of her outfits.
Another groan, and then her eyes slowly tried to open themselves, only for the princess to grimace when the light proved too bright for someone who had momentarily passed out for the briefest of seconds, her memories hazy at best at what had occured. Had it been minutes? Hours? Was she still where she last remembered? "Where... what happened?" she asked in a soft voice, one that could barely be heard unless one had noticed Emilia had stirred from her still position on the ground. How long has it been since her entourage had returned to fetch help for her?
It was a darkness that Emilia first remembered, before a pounding like someone had taken a mallet to her head began to make itself known. But through it all, Emilia had no memory of anything in her vision, merely sounds of screaming and shouting with a general sense of chaos that went along with the feel of wooziness in her head and the sting of cold rain upon her skin. Faintly, Emilia could feel herself being hauled, but was otherwise unable to utter anything more then a faint groan, her eyelids feeling as if they have sacks of rice hooked upon them.
Her head turned from one side to another, as she began to stir, but even as she tried, her whole body felt like lead, and any movement started her head on another whole round of pounding, that Emilia merely groaned more and ceased trying to move.
Faintly,she could make out voices of people. A familiar one that she remembers hearing but unable to put a face on, and another Emilia could almost be certain was one of the Antonis girl's, yet try as she may, she could not place which one of them did the voice belong to. Where was she? She remembered riding on a horse, going through the market. What had happened? Why did she feel dirt between her fingers and toes, and was that water seeping through the material of her chiton? It was a purple material of the finest silk from a land too far for Emilia to pronounce it's name appropriately, but what she did know, was that water would easily ruin the material.
There goes one of her outfits.
Another groan, and then her eyes slowly tried to open themselves, only for the princess to grimace when the light proved too bright for someone who had momentarily passed out for the briefest of seconds, her memories hazy at best at what had occured. Had it been minutes? Hours? Was she still where she last remembered? "Where... what happened?" she asked in a soft voice, one that could barely be heard unless one had noticed Emilia had stirred from her still position on the ground. How long has it been since her entourage had returned to fetch help for her?
Chaos swirled around her like it had blown in on the winds. The usually quiet streets had come alive buzzing with the same sort of energy that a nest of disturbed bees did. So badly did she want to lift her gaze off the girl and just pause everything so that she could take it all in and know every detail of her surroundings. Ismene might have been talented but she possessed no such blessings. In place of not having those abilities, she took a deep breath, quieted her mind, and let the swirl of chaos around her run together the way Ariadne’s paint from her early paintings would bleed into the other colors around it.
The trouble with slowing your mind down was that in this chaos if you didn’t grasp onto the reins again you’d be left standing alone. In an instant, she snapped back to reality and shoved her small frame in between the guards and other onlookers. Lying there crumpled up was the peaceful looking princess. Her soft eyes that Ismene knew were a deep earthy brown were closed as if she was in a sleep. Ismene only hoped it was not a permanent sleep.
Dropping to her knees without a thought about her ground, she leaned over the body and saw the faintest rise and fall of life from the small body. Blessed Apollo! Her grey eyes flew up to the guards and in a command that a general could have been proud of, “Move these people. Give her some air.” It hadn’t been a suggestion, but an order. Turning back to the younger princess, she reached over and quickly gave the girl an examination. She hadn’t found any broken bones but there was a nice laceration on the back of the princess’ head that was bleeding. Until she’d gotten the princess conscious there wasn’t an easy way for her to examine it a little better to tell if it would require any sort of stitching.
They needed to get the princess back to the palace, glancing up she’d been about to issue a few more orders when…
‘Ismene, what going o-’ Her father’s voice snapped her out of the zone she’d been in as her eyes flew to him standing there slack jawed staring down at the Princess. She opened her mouth but the only word to come out was, “I…” Her father seemed to sum up what was going on all on his own. ‘Shit.’ Her eyes flickered for the first time to the body of the girl in her father’s arms protesting being carried. Good luck in convincing her father to put her down… Ismene wished her the best in those regards. She’d been about to tell the young woman that she needed to be looked at as well but there was a stirring next to her and immediately her attention turned back to the princess as she started coming to again, ‘Where... what happened?’
“Don’t move around too much, your highness. You’ve had a fall from your horse but you’ve bumped your head and have been out for a few minutes. I don’t think anything is broken. Can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me?” She waited for the princess before she glanced up at her father, “We need to get them to the palace… The palace physician will be there and he’ll be more helpful than I am, at least out here... in the streets." There was a quiet voice in the back of her mind that was silently cursing that she didn’t have her uncle there to help her. What if she’d missed something? Her hand grasped onto the straps of her satchel a little tighter.
Heaving to her feet she moved to let the princess’ guards pick up her. Glancing around, the chaos continued as Poseidon was wreaking havoc on the ships in the harbor. It was going to be a long night… Her gaze shifted back to her father, “Have you seen Hero? I left her down by the docks to come up here after we were almost run down by a horse… I need to go get her.”
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Chaos swirled around her like it had blown in on the winds. The usually quiet streets had come alive buzzing with the same sort of energy that a nest of disturbed bees did. So badly did she want to lift her gaze off the girl and just pause everything so that she could take it all in and know every detail of her surroundings. Ismene might have been talented but she possessed no such blessings. In place of not having those abilities, she took a deep breath, quieted her mind, and let the swirl of chaos around her run together the way Ariadne’s paint from her early paintings would bleed into the other colors around it.
The trouble with slowing your mind down was that in this chaos if you didn’t grasp onto the reins again you’d be left standing alone. In an instant, she snapped back to reality and shoved her small frame in between the guards and other onlookers. Lying there crumpled up was the peaceful looking princess. Her soft eyes that Ismene knew were a deep earthy brown were closed as if she was in a sleep. Ismene only hoped it was not a permanent sleep.
Dropping to her knees without a thought about her ground, she leaned over the body and saw the faintest rise and fall of life from the small body. Blessed Apollo! Her grey eyes flew up to the guards and in a command that a general could have been proud of, “Move these people. Give her some air.” It hadn’t been a suggestion, but an order. Turning back to the younger princess, she reached over and quickly gave the girl an examination. She hadn’t found any broken bones but there was a nice laceration on the back of the princess’ head that was bleeding. Until she’d gotten the princess conscious there wasn’t an easy way for her to examine it a little better to tell if it would require any sort of stitching.
They needed to get the princess back to the palace, glancing up she’d been about to issue a few more orders when…
‘Ismene, what going o-’ Her father’s voice snapped her out of the zone she’d been in as her eyes flew to him standing there slack jawed staring down at the Princess. She opened her mouth but the only word to come out was, “I…” Her father seemed to sum up what was going on all on his own. ‘Shit.’ Her eyes flickered for the first time to the body of the girl in her father’s arms protesting being carried. Good luck in convincing her father to put her down… Ismene wished her the best in those regards. She’d been about to tell the young woman that she needed to be looked at as well but there was a stirring next to her and immediately her attention turned back to the princess as she started coming to again, ‘Where... what happened?’
“Don’t move around too much, your highness. You’ve had a fall from your horse but you’ve bumped your head and have been out for a few minutes. I don’t think anything is broken. Can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me?” She waited for the princess before she glanced up at her father, “We need to get them to the palace… The palace physician will be there and he’ll be more helpful than I am, at least out here... in the streets." There was a quiet voice in the back of her mind that was silently cursing that she didn’t have her uncle there to help her. What if she’d missed something? Her hand grasped onto the straps of her satchel a little tighter.
Heaving to her feet she moved to let the princess’ guards pick up her. Glancing around, the chaos continued as Poseidon was wreaking havoc on the ships in the harbor. It was going to be a long night… Her gaze shifted back to her father, “Have you seen Hero? I left her down by the docks to come up here after we were almost run down by a horse… I need to go get her.”
Chaos swirled around her like it had blown in on the winds. The usually quiet streets had come alive buzzing with the same sort of energy that a nest of disturbed bees did. So badly did she want to lift her gaze off the girl and just pause everything so that she could take it all in and know every detail of her surroundings. Ismene might have been talented but she possessed no such blessings. In place of not having those abilities, she took a deep breath, quieted her mind, and let the swirl of chaos around her run together the way Ariadne’s paint from her early paintings would bleed into the other colors around it.
The trouble with slowing your mind down was that in this chaos if you didn’t grasp onto the reins again you’d be left standing alone. In an instant, she snapped back to reality and shoved her small frame in between the guards and other onlookers. Lying there crumpled up was the peaceful looking princess. Her soft eyes that Ismene knew were a deep earthy brown were closed as if she was in a sleep. Ismene only hoped it was not a permanent sleep.
Dropping to her knees without a thought about her ground, she leaned over the body and saw the faintest rise and fall of life from the small body. Blessed Apollo! Her grey eyes flew up to the guards and in a command that a general could have been proud of, “Move these people. Give her some air.” It hadn’t been a suggestion, but an order. Turning back to the younger princess, she reached over and quickly gave the girl an examination. She hadn’t found any broken bones but there was a nice laceration on the back of the princess’ head that was bleeding. Until she’d gotten the princess conscious there wasn’t an easy way for her to examine it a little better to tell if it would require any sort of stitching.
They needed to get the princess back to the palace, glancing up she’d been about to issue a few more orders when…
‘Ismene, what going o-’ Her father’s voice snapped her out of the zone she’d been in as her eyes flew to him standing there slack jawed staring down at the Princess. She opened her mouth but the only word to come out was, “I…” Her father seemed to sum up what was going on all on his own. ‘Shit.’ Her eyes flickered for the first time to the body of the girl in her father’s arms protesting being carried. Good luck in convincing her father to put her down… Ismene wished her the best in those regards. She’d been about to tell the young woman that she needed to be looked at as well but there was a stirring next to her and immediately her attention turned back to the princess as she started coming to again, ‘Where... what happened?’
“Don’t move around too much, your highness. You’ve had a fall from your horse but you’ve bumped your head and have been out for a few minutes. I don’t think anything is broken. Can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me?” She waited for the princess before she glanced up at her father, “We need to get them to the palace… The palace physician will be there and he’ll be more helpful than I am, at least out here... in the streets." There was a quiet voice in the back of her mind that was silently cursing that she didn’t have her uncle there to help her. What if she’d missed something? Her hand grasped onto the straps of her satchel a little tighter.
Heaving to her feet she moved to let the princess’ guards pick up her. Glancing around, the chaos continued as Poseidon was wreaking havoc on the ships in the harbor. It was going to be a long night… Her gaze shifted back to her father, “Have you seen Hero? I left her down by the docks to come up here after we were almost run down by a horse… I need to go get her.”
To say Hector was frustrated with the entire situation would have been an understatement. His brows were furrowed tightly together as he surveyed his surroundings. Among the familiar shouting of men trying to speak over the din of the wind and rain, he heard a piercing shout at him from over it - yet another young woman, out of the home and in the midst of madness where they had no need of being.
Thankfully, his brows only sharpened their glance up and the narrowed glare he offered up to the girl on horseback could easily have been blamed on trying to blink away at the raindrops pelting his face, but as her words registered he glanced down at the Lady Marietta in his arms. Sister...gods, if only he had the skill with names that his daughter Ariadne had. Regardless, he looked between the two briefly before his attention had been taken by the sight of Princess Emilia on the ground.
Everything seemed to happen in an instant, as Lady Marietta ordered her to put her down. He was hesitant, noting that the flush on her cheeks was likely from the pain in her ankle. He had broken bones before - his own and others - and knew that the pain could cloud the mind significantly and potentially put the body into shock. That same thing could be said of a body that went from warm to cold too quickly.
"Be careful, don't put pressure on it," Hector cautioned, knowing that the pain she felt would likely keep her from doing that int he first place. His glance shot up from where he now offered her some support as she stood her weight on one foot to the second, younger Lady Antonis. At least now, she was far enough away from carriage and the madness there to keep from being crushed. "Can you help your sister?"
In a random, odd moment, he almost wished he had Hero there - sometimes, the young Arcana girl could prove useful, even as simply a second set of hands.
Still, after a brief moment, Hector's eyes met Lady Marietta's as if to ask if she was going to be okay. He did much the same thing when he set a vase precariously on the shelf, his hands sort of hovering there a moment as if willing it to stay upright and to keep from falling. He offered the briefest of nods between them before his daughter's voice pulled his attention back as she addressed the rousing princess. It always fascinated him how Ismene had somehow managed to have all of his worst parts and all of his brother Gregor's best aspects. As a physician, she was patient, steady, and calm, just like Gregor, yet somehow her stubborn streak and temper mirrored his own. Thank the gods that was not the part she showed now, though he made no promise to them that his own temper would not flare up given the shitshow that just seemed to worsen by the moment.
"If some would be able to get that carriage unstuck and on its way, we could commandeer it and use it to get there," Hector said loudly, leveling a few able-bodied looking men with a 'yes, I am talking about you' glower as he gestured a hand. After all, what were they going to do? Not try to do something to help an injured princess? For all they knew, doing something like that could argue them to have favor with the royal family, but only if they did something. His arm snapped a commanding gesture towards it as he watched the guards help Princess Emilia stand as the young royal gathered her bearings. "We will make sure you get to the Palace safely, Your Highness. I promise you."
It is remarkable how much she looks like her mother....
As Ismene asked about Hero, Hector felt a small flare of temper light at the base of his throat as his face turned into a deeper scowl, taking a moment to use him running a hand across his face in frustration as a way to get water out of his eyes. Exasperated, he grumbled under his breath, "Horses and women running about at the docks in the middle of a bloody tempest...never in my life..."
Blowing out a frustrated heaving breath, he looked to Ismene, "Hero ran off to go be in the way, after being told not to do just that," Hector snapped, more out of concern than actual anger towards the girl, "Those ships are not slowing. We will have far more than rattled skulls and broken ankles before long. We do not have time to lose in clearing the beach."
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Apr 23, 2020 20:08:44 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on Apr 23, 2020 20:08:44 GMT
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To say Hector was frustrated with the entire situation would have been an understatement. His brows were furrowed tightly together as he surveyed his surroundings. Among the familiar shouting of men trying to speak over the din of the wind and rain, he heard a piercing shout at him from over it - yet another young woman, out of the home and in the midst of madness where they had no need of being.
Thankfully, his brows only sharpened their glance up and the narrowed glare he offered up to the girl on horseback could easily have been blamed on trying to blink away at the raindrops pelting his face, but as her words registered he glanced down at the Lady Marietta in his arms. Sister...gods, if only he had the skill with names that his daughter Ariadne had. Regardless, he looked between the two briefly before his attention had been taken by the sight of Princess Emilia on the ground.
Everything seemed to happen in an instant, as Lady Marietta ordered her to put her down. He was hesitant, noting that the flush on her cheeks was likely from the pain in her ankle. He had broken bones before - his own and others - and knew that the pain could cloud the mind significantly and potentially put the body into shock. That same thing could be said of a body that went from warm to cold too quickly.
"Be careful, don't put pressure on it," Hector cautioned, knowing that the pain she felt would likely keep her from doing that int he first place. His glance shot up from where he now offered her some support as she stood her weight on one foot to the second, younger Lady Antonis. At least now, she was far enough away from carriage and the madness there to keep from being crushed. "Can you help your sister?"
In a random, odd moment, he almost wished he had Hero there - sometimes, the young Arcana girl could prove useful, even as simply a second set of hands.
Still, after a brief moment, Hector's eyes met Lady Marietta's as if to ask if she was going to be okay. He did much the same thing when he set a vase precariously on the shelf, his hands sort of hovering there a moment as if willing it to stay upright and to keep from falling. He offered the briefest of nods between them before his daughter's voice pulled his attention back as she addressed the rousing princess. It always fascinated him how Ismene had somehow managed to have all of his worst parts and all of his brother Gregor's best aspects. As a physician, she was patient, steady, and calm, just like Gregor, yet somehow her stubborn streak and temper mirrored his own. Thank the gods that was not the part she showed now, though he made no promise to them that his own temper would not flare up given the shitshow that just seemed to worsen by the moment.
"If some would be able to get that carriage unstuck and on its way, we could commandeer it and use it to get there," Hector said loudly, leveling a few able-bodied looking men with a 'yes, I am talking about you' glower as he gestured a hand. After all, what were they going to do? Not try to do something to help an injured princess? For all they knew, doing something like that could argue them to have favor with the royal family, but only if they did something. His arm snapped a commanding gesture towards it as he watched the guards help Princess Emilia stand as the young royal gathered her bearings. "We will make sure you get to the Palace safely, Your Highness. I promise you."
It is remarkable how much she looks like her mother....
As Ismene asked about Hero, Hector felt a small flare of temper light at the base of his throat as his face turned into a deeper scowl, taking a moment to use him running a hand across his face in frustration as a way to get water out of his eyes. Exasperated, he grumbled under his breath, "Horses and women running about at the docks in the middle of a bloody tempest...never in my life..."
Blowing out a frustrated heaving breath, he looked to Ismene, "Hero ran off to go be in the way, after being told not to do just that," Hector snapped, more out of concern than actual anger towards the girl, "Those ships are not slowing. We will have far more than rattled skulls and broken ankles before long. We do not have time to lose in clearing the beach."
To say Hector was frustrated with the entire situation would have been an understatement. His brows were furrowed tightly together as he surveyed his surroundings. Among the familiar shouting of men trying to speak over the din of the wind and rain, he heard a piercing shout at him from over it - yet another young woman, out of the home and in the midst of madness where they had no need of being.
Thankfully, his brows only sharpened their glance up and the narrowed glare he offered up to the girl on horseback could easily have been blamed on trying to blink away at the raindrops pelting his face, but as her words registered he glanced down at the Lady Marietta in his arms. Sister...gods, if only he had the skill with names that his daughter Ariadne had. Regardless, he looked between the two briefly before his attention had been taken by the sight of Princess Emilia on the ground.
Everything seemed to happen in an instant, as Lady Marietta ordered her to put her down. He was hesitant, noting that the flush on her cheeks was likely from the pain in her ankle. He had broken bones before - his own and others - and knew that the pain could cloud the mind significantly and potentially put the body into shock. That same thing could be said of a body that went from warm to cold too quickly.
"Be careful, don't put pressure on it," Hector cautioned, knowing that the pain she felt would likely keep her from doing that int he first place. His glance shot up from where he now offered her some support as she stood her weight on one foot to the second, younger Lady Antonis. At least now, she was far enough away from carriage and the madness there to keep from being crushed. "Can you help your sister?"
In a random, odd moment, he almost wished he had Hero there - sometimes, the young Arcana girl could prove useful, even as simply a second set of hands.
Still, after a brief moment, Hector's eyes met Lady Marietta's as if to ask if she was going to be okay. He did much the same thing when he set a vase precariously on the shelf, his hands sort of hovering there a moment as if willing it to stay upright and to keep from falling. He offered the briefest of nods between them before his daughter's voice pulled his attention back as she addressed the rousing princess. It always fascinated him how Ismene had somehow managed to have all of his worst parts and all of his brother Gregor's best aspects. As a physician, she was patient, steady, and calm, just like Gregor, yet somehow her stubborn streak and temper mirrored his own. Thank the gods that was not the part she showed now, though he made no promise to them that his own temper would not flare up given the shitshow that just seemed to worsen by the moment.
"If some would be able to get that carriage unstuck and on its way, we could commandeer it and use it to get there," Hector said loudly, leveling a few able-bodied looking men with a 'yes, I am talking about you' glower as he gestured a hand. After all, what were they going to do? Not try to do something to help an injured princess? For all they knew, doing something like that could argue them to have favor with the royal family, but only if they did something. His arm snapped a commanding gesture towards it as he watched the guards help Princess Emilia stand as the young royal gathered her bearings. "We will make sure you get to the Palace safely, Your Highness. I promise you."
It is remarkable how much she looks like her mother....
As Ismene asked about Hero, Hector felt a small flare of temper light at the base of his throat as his face turned into a deeper scowl, taking a moment to use him running a hand across his face in frustration as a way to get water out of his eyes. Exasperated, he grumbled under his breath, "Horses and women running about at the docks in the middle of a bloody tempest...never in my life..."
Blowing out a frustrated heaving breath, he looked to Ismene, "Hero ran off to go be in the way, after being told not to do just that," Hector snapped, more out of concern than actual anger towards the girl, "Those ships are not slowing. We will have far more than rattled skulls and broken ankles before long. We do not have time to lose in clearing the beach."
Sofia loved storms. They were chaos incarnate, usually harmless but with just enough danger to capture her interest. She loved the feeling of raindrops hitting her skin, tangling her hair. And gods, was this a storm. The moment the dark clouds rolled in she was gone, Ops’s hooves clattering strong and steady against the wet stones. This was freedom. Only one destination crossed her cluttered mind: the ocean. She had to see the broiling waves, to feel the power of Poseidon raging and tumbling. The ride was rough but manageable, filling her with the type of electric joy she often craved. But by the time Sofia neared the docks, it was clear that this had been a terrible mistake. Her hair, loose and wild, whipped at her face. Her gaze was obscured by wind and rain, but she could tell that her world was in turmoil. Fishermen shouted, children slipped, and even steady Ops began to shiver.
Sofia frowned, struggling to pull the hair from her eyes and maintain her grip on Ops. She dismounted, holding her horse’s reins like a lifeline. He was neighing wildly now, and Sofia worried he might try to bolt. This was bad. And then it got worse. Blurred eyes fell upon a large group nearby: several girls huddled and shivering. Noblewomen. Sofia pulled and pulled on the reins, heart sinking to her stomach as she slowly approached. And there was Marietta, face wrinkled in pain, and her sister, Hebe. Princess Emilia, too, crumpled on the ground. Other familiar figures crowded the scene, too, but Sofia’s mind was racing too much to search their faces. “Marietta,” she shouted through the clamor, one arm outstretched toward her friend as she reached the group. “What happened here?” Sofia asked of no one in particular, head turning wildly as she tried to account for everyone. This was not the sort of chaos she’d had in mind.
Her wild eyes fell on Captain Hector, barely recognizing him in the commotion. He was the only one looking even remotely in charge, though even his nerves seemed to be fraying. “What can I do to help?” There had to be something. The wind was picking up again, though, sending Ops into another fit. She turned to face the horse, desperately trying to keep him calm. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if Ops caused yet another injury. This was no place for a horse, even one as gentle and strong as Ops. She shouldn’t be here, either, but now that she was, she was going to help. Storm be damned.
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Sofia loved storms. They were chaos incarnate, usually harmless but with just enough danger to capture her interest. She loved the feeling of raindrops hitting her skin, tangling her hair. And gods, was this a storm. The moment the dark clouds rolled in she was gone, Ops’s hooves clattering strong and steady against the wet stones. This was freedom. Only one destination crossed her cluttered mind: the ocean. She had to see the broiling waves, to feel the power of Poseidon raging and tumbling. The ride was rough but manageable, filling her with the type of electric joy she often craved. But by the time Sofia neared the docks, it was clear that this had been a terrible mistake. Her hair, loose and wild, whipped at her face. Her gaze was obscured by wind and rain, but she could tell that her world was in turmoil. Fishermen shouted, children slipped, and even steady Ops began to shiver.
Sofia frowned, struggling to pull the hair from her eyes and maintain her grip on Ops. She dismounted, holding her horse’s reins like a lifeline. He was neighing wildly now, and Sofia worried he might try to bolt. This was bad. And then it got worse. Blurred eyes fell upon a large group nearby: several girls huddled and shivering. Noblewomen. Sofia pulled and pulled on the reins, heart sinking to her stomach as she slowly approached. And there was Marietta, face wrinkled in pain, and her sister, Hebe. Princess Emilia, too, crumpled on the ground. Other familiar figures crowded the scene, too, but Sofia’s mind was racing too much to search their faces. “Marietta,” she shouted through the clamor, one arm outstretched toward her friend as she reached the group. “What happened here?” Sofia asked of no one in particular, head turning wildly as she tried to account for everyone. This was not the sort of chaos she’d had in mind.
Her wild eyes fell on Captain Hector, barely recognizing him in the commotion. He was the only one looking even remotely in charge, though even his nerves seemed to be fraying. “What can I do to help?” There had to be something. The wind was picking up again, though, sending Ops into another fit. She turned to face the horse, desperately trying to keep him calm. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if Ops caused yet another injury. This was no place for a horse, even one as gentle and strong as Ops. She shouldn’t be here, either, but now that she was, she was going to help. Storm be damned.
Sofia loved storms. They were chaos incarnate, usually harmless but with just enough danger to capture her interest. She loved the feeling of raindrops hitting her skin, tangling her hair. And gods, was this a storm. The moment the dark clouds rolled in she was gone, Ops’s hooves clattering strong and steady against the wet stones. This was freedom. Only one destination crossed her cluttered mind: the ocean. She had to see the broiling waves, to feel the power of Poseidon raging and tumbling. The ride was rough but manageable, filling her with the type of electric joy she often craved. But by the time Sofia neared the docks, it was clear that this had been a terrible mistake. Her hair, loose and wild, whipped at her face. Her gaze was obscured by wind and rain, but she could tell that her world was in turmoil. Fishermen shouted, children slipped, and even steady Ops began to shiver.
Sofia frowned, struggling to pull the hair from her eyes and maintain her grip on Ops. She dismounted, holding her horse’s reins like a lifeline. He was neighing wildly now, and Sofia worried he might try to bolt. This was bad. And then it got worse. Blurred eyes fell upon a large group nearby: several girls huddled and shivering. Noblewomen. Sofia pulled and pulled on the reins, heart sinking to her stomach as she slowly approached. And there was Marietta, face wrinkled in pain, and her sister, Hebe. Princess Emilia, too, crumpled on the ground. Other familiar figures crowded the scene, too, but Sofia’s mind was racing too much to search their faces. “Marietta,” she shouted through the clamor, one arm outstretched toward her friend as she reached the group. “What happened here?” Sofia asked of no one in particular, head turning wildly as she tried to account for everyone. This was not the sort of chaos she’d had in mind.
Her wild eyes fell on Captain Hector, barely recognizing him in the commotion. He was the only one looking even remotely in charge, though even his nerves seemed to be fraying. “What can I do to help?” There had to be something. The wind was picking up again, though, sending Ops into another fit. She turned to face the horse, desperately trying to keep him calm. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if Ops caused yet another injury. This was no place for a horse, even one as gentle and strong as Ops. She shouldn’t be here, either, but now that she was, she was going to help. Storm be damned.
The man carrying her sister away didn’t answer her question. How dare he! He was a commoner and she was a noble. Did he think she could be ignored because she was young enough to be his daughter? Or maybe even his granddaughter? Hebe could only see his back and nothing but Marietta’s head and her legs. She wasn’t limp so she couldn’t be unconscious. Nor was she screaming for help. Hebe’s first fear … that Marietta was being kidnapped … was unfounded. Maybe she knew the man, but why wasn’t she walking on her own two feet? In some of the books Hebe had read, the illustrations of people in love showed the man with the woman lifted in his arms. Was Marietta in love with him? Eeeuuww!
At least her sister heard her shout. Marietta looked back at her and called out that everything was all right. Gaining on them quickly, she slowed Whimsy to a walk. The other horse followed the black mare’s lead as they approached the carriage and the throng around it. Why had they chosen that carriage to gather around instead of the one she had stopped to help? They would have seen the way she calmed the horses and would have thought she was the most amazing eleven-year-old in the world.
Marietta said something to the man who was carrying her. Hebe couldn’t hear it over the howling of the wind. Blinking frequently to keep the rain out of her eyes, she pushed back a lock of wet hair that had blown into her face. The commoner set her sister down, and she saw how Marietta was favoring one foot. She must have been injured. Had she fallen from her horse trying to get to her? The man asked her to help her sister. Now that he needs something from me, he finally acknowledges my existence, she thought haughtily,
Too concerned about Marietta to scold him, she dismounted and let the reins of both horses go. There was nothing to tie them to except for the carriage, and that wasn’t a good idea. Whimsy would stay where she was, but if the other horse bolted, then Marietta would have to ride home with her.
She noticed a young woman bending over something lying on the ground. It was a person because she could see his or her feet. Marietta told her not to look. Why? Was the prone figure deed? Hebe had never seen a real live dead body before … well a real dead dead body. There was nothing live about them. Did she really want to look at one? No, not really.
She reached her sister and put her arm around her, supporting her as best she could. “What happened to you?” she asked, her eyes staying to the woman that the commoner had just joined. The person on the ground moved and Hebe recognized Princess Emilia. No wonder so many people were watching. They were concerned about the princess. So was Hebe. The two girls didn’t know each other well, but they were close to the same age and had kept each other company at a few events. Hebe was glad that she wasn’t dead.
The clop of hooves alerted her to another arrival, the drenched form of Lady Sofia, a friend of her sister’s. She seemed to be having trouble controlling her horse as she asked what she could do to help. Sofia wasn’t addressing her, but the commoner who had carried Marietta. “Will you tell her I can calm her horse?” she asked Marietta. The woman probably wouldn’t take her seriously if the request came from her since she was still a child.
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The man carrying her sister away didn’t answer her question. How dare he! He was a commoner and she was a noble. Did he think she could be ignored because she was young enough to be his daughter? Or maybe even his granddaughter? Hebe could only see his back and nothing but Marietta’s head and her legs. She wasn’t limp so she couldn’t be unconscious. Nor was she screaming for help. Hebe’s first fear … that Marietta was being kidnapped … was unfounded. Maybe she knew the man, but why wasn’t she walking on her own two feet? In some of the books Hebe had read, the illustrations of people in love showed the man with the woman lifted in his arms. Was Marietta in love with him? Eeeuuww!
At least her sister heard her shout. Marietta looked back at her and called out that everything was all right. Gaining on them quickly, she slowed Whimsy to a walk. The other horse followed the black mare’s lead as they approached the carriage and the throng around it. Why had they chosen that carriage to gather around instead of the one she had stopped to help? They would have seen the way she calmed the horses and would have thought she was the most amazing eleven-year-old in the world.
Marietta said something to the man who was carrying her. Hebe couldn’t hear it over the howling of the wind. Blinking frequently to keep the rain out of her eyes, she pushed back a lock of wet hair that had blown into her face. The commoner set her sister down, and she saw how Marietta was favoring one foot. She must have been injured. Had she fallen from her horse trying to get to her? The man asked her to help her sister. Now that he needs something from me, he finally acknowledges my existence, she thought haughtily,
Too concerned about Marietta to scold him, she dismounted and let the reins of both horses go. There was nothing to tie them to except for the carriage, and that wasn’t a good idea. Whimsy would stay where she was, but if the other horse bolted, then Marietta would have to ride home with her.
She noticed a young woman bending over something lying on the ground. It was a person because she could see his or her feet. Marietta told her not to look. Why? Was the prone figure deed? Hebe had never seen a real live dead body before … well a real dead dead body. There was nothing live about them. Did she really want to look at one? No, not really.
She reached her sister and put her arm around her, supporting her as best she could. “What happened to you?” she asked, her eyes staying to the woman that the commoner had just joined. The person on the ground moved and Hebe recognized Princess Emilia. No wonder so many people were watching. They were concerned about the princess. So was Hebe. The two girls didn’t know each other well, but they were close to the same age and had kept each other company at a few events. Hebe was glad that she wasn’t dead.
The clop of hooves alerted her to another arrival, the drenched form of Lady Sofia, a friend of her sister’s. She seemed to be having trouble controlling her horse as she asked what she could do to help. Sofia wasn’t addressing her, but the commoner who had carried Marietta. “Will you tell her I can calm her horse?” she asked Marietta. The woman probably wouldn’t take her seriously if the request came from her since she was still a child.
The man carrying her sister away didn’t answer her question. How dare he! He was a commoner and she was a noble. Did he think she could be ignored because she was young enough to be his daughter? Or maybe even his granddaughter? Hebe could only see his back and nothing but Marietta’s head and her legs. She wasn’t limp so she couldn’t be unconscious. Nor was she screaming for help. Hebe’s first fear … that Marietta was being kidnapped … was unfounded. Maybe she knew the man, but why wasn’t she walking on her own two feet? In some of the books Hebe had read, the illustrations of people in love showed the man with the woman lifted in his arms. Was Marietta in love with him? Eeeuuww!
At least her sister heard her shout. Marietta looked back at her and called out that everything was all right. Gaining on them quickly, she slowed Whimsy to a walk. The other horse followed the black mare’s lead as they approached the carriage and the throng around it. Why had they chosen that carriage to gather around instead of the one she had stopped to help? They would have seen the way she calmed the horses and would have thought she was the most amazing eleven-year-old in the world.
Marietta said something to the man who was carrying her. Hebe couldn’t hear it over the howling of the wind. Blinking frequently to keep the rain out of her eyes, she pushed back a lock of wet hair that had blown into her face. The commoner set her sister down, and she saw how Marietta was favoring one foot. She must have been injured. Had she fallen from her horse trying to get to her? The man asked her to help her sister. Now that he needs something from me, he finally acknowledges my existence, she thought haughtily,
Too concerned about Marietta to scold him, she dismounted and let the reins of both horses go. There was nothing to tie them to except for the carriage, and that wasn’t a good idea. Whimsy would stay where she was, but if the other horse bolted, then Marietta would have to ride home with her.
She noticed a young woman bending over something lying on the ground. It was a person because she could see his or her feet. Marietta told her not to look. Why? Was the prone figure deed? Hebe had never seen a real live dead body before … well a real dead dead body. There was nothing live about them. Did she really want to look at one? No, not really.
She reached her sister and put her arm around her, supporting her as best she could. “What happened to you?” she asked, her eyes staying to the woman that the commoner had just joined. The person on the ground moved and Hebe recognized Princess Emilia. No wonder so many people were watching. They were concerned about the princess. So was Hebe. The two girls didn’t know each other well, but they were close to the same age and had kept each other company at a few events. Hebe was glad that she wasn’t dead.
The clop of hooves alerted her to another arrival, the drenched form of Lady Sofia, a friend of her sister’s. She seemed to be having trouble controlling her horse as she asked what she could do to help. Sofia wasn’t addressing her, but the commoner who had carried Marietta. “Will you tell her I can calm her horse?” she asked Marietta. The woman probably wouldn’t take her seriously if the request came from her since she was still a child.
Stop looking at me like that.
His eyes were so hypnotic. They had the power to pull Marietta into a trance and forget everything. The storm’s fury as it whipped around the group, the not dead Princess as she rose from her slumber, and the danger that this dock held, all faded into nothingness. For one moment. Two.
Owwww!
She was placed ever so gently on the ground, but not gentle enough as pain once more shot through her body. Her red face grew redder, in part from her previous thoughts, but now from the pain that went through her. Marietta had an awkward arm around her youngest sister, using her to precariously balance. Her free hand wrapped in a fist with nails digging into her flesh to keep from crying out. Her injured foot was barely hovering over the wet ground beneath her, relying completely on Hebe to keep her upright.
“Well, dearest sister,” Marietta said through her teeth. “That is not a horse you hold but a being of Tartarus bent on sending me to the ferry earlier than the fates prefer.” To be fair, that was every horse, but Marietta now held a special hatred for this one in particular. Should it be lost in the rain, Marietta would feel no guilt or sadness. The girl had a love for all animals, but horses were not animals. They were beasts with licences to kill.
And then to add to the confusion another person arrived. Marietta blinked the rain out of her eyes and saw Sofia, drenched like everyone else, with another stressed horse. What is going on? Okay, how many people made stupid decisions today? Princess, check. Marietta, check. Her sister, check. And her best friend, check. Marietta couldn’t believe this. They were all rich, all had people that could serve them, and had no reason whatsoever to be out in the docks. Did a witch cast a spell on the noble girls today? Marietta was fully aware that she made a mistake today, but how could four of them make the same mistake? Witchcraft. It was the only explanation. There was a witch in Athenia.
Marietta snapped out of her stupor when her sister spoke to her. “Right… right. Sofia, come help support me.” Marietta’s free hand waved her friend over. “Let Hebe care for your horse. She has a touch that other’s do not.” Yes, yes, her sister as sweet and innocent as she is, spoke an evil tongue that caused horses to follow her every whim. Marietta would be more bitter if she was not so terribly jealous of Hebe’s ability.
Her eyes then moved to Captain Hector, the woman beside her, and the fallen Princess. “Perhaps it would be best to move the Princess,” and her sister, “to shelter. At least until the horses calm and the carriage is upright!”
Three Ladies, a Princess, and two commoners all fighting a swirling tempest, trying their best to make order in chaos. Should everyone come out of this alright, there was one thing Marietta knew for certain: This experience was going to make for an excellent masterpiece.
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May 15, 2020 20:20:10 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on May 15, 2020 20:20:10 GMT
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Stop looking at me like that.
His eyes were so hypnotic. They had the power to pull Marietta into a trance and forget everything. The storm’s fury as it whipped around the group, the not dead Princess as she rose from her slumber, and the danger that this dock held, all faded into nothingness. For one moment. Two.
Owwww!
She was placed ever so gently on the ground, but not gentle enough as pain once more shot through her body. Her red face grew redder, in part from her previous thoughts, but now from the pain that went through her. Marietta had an awkward arm around her youngest sister, using her to precariously balance. Her free hand wrapped in a fist with nails digging into her flesh to keep from crying out. Her injured foot was barely hovering over the wet ground beneath her, relying completely on Hebe to keep her upright.
“Well, dearest sister,” Marietta said through her teeth. “That is not a horse you hold but a being of Tartarus bent on sending me to the ferry earlier than the fates prefer.” To be fair, that was every horse, but Marietta now held a special hatred for this one in particular. Should it be lost in the rain, Marietta would feel no guilt or sadness. The girl had a love for all animals, but horses were not animals. They were beasts with licences to kill.
And then to add to the confusion another person arrived. Marietta blinked the rain out of her eyes and saw Sofia, drenched like everyone else, with another stressed horse. What is going on? Okay, how many people made stupid decisions today? Princess, check. Marietta, check. Her sister, check. And her best friend, check. Marietta couldn’t believe this. They were all rich, all had people that could serve them, and had no reason whatsoever to be out in the docks. Did a witch cast a spell on the noble girls today? Marietta was fully aware that she made a mistake today, but how could four of them make the same mistake? Witchcraft. It was the only explanation. There was a witch in Athenia.
Marietta snapped out of her stupor when her sister spoke to her. “Right… right. Sofia, come help support me.” Marietta’s free hand waved her friend over. “Let Hebe care for your horse. She has a touch that other’s do not.” Yes, yes, her sister as sweet and innocent as she is, spoke an evil tongue that caused horses to follow her every whim. Marietta would be more bitter if she was not so terribly jealous of Hebe’s ability.
Her eyes then moved to Captain Hector, the woman beside her, and the fallen Princess. “Perhaps it would be best to move the Princess,” and her sister, “to shelter. At least until the horses calm and the carriage is upright!”
Three Ladies, a Princess, and two commoners all fighting a swirling tempest, trying their best to make order in chaos. Should everyone come out of this alright, there was one thing Marietta knew for certain: This experience was going to make for an excellent masterpiece.
Stop looking at me like that.
His eyes were so hypnotic. They had the power to pull Marietta into a trance and forget everything. The storm’s fury as it whipped around the group, the not dead Princess as she rose from her slumber, and the danger that this dock held, all faded into nothingness. For one moment. Two.
Owwww!
She was placed ever so gently on the ground, but not gentle enough as pain once more shot through her body. Her red face grew redder, in part from her previous thoughts, but now from the pain that went through her. Marietta had an awkward arm around her youngest sister, using her to precariously balance. Her free hand wrapped in a fist with nails digging into her flesh to keep from crying out. Her injured foot was barely hovering over the wet ground beneath her, relying completely on Hebe to keep her upright.
“Well, dearest sister,” Marietta said through her teeth. “That is not a horse you hold but a being of Tartarus bent on sending me to the ferry earlier than the fates prefer.” To be fair, that was every horse, but Marietta now held a special hatred for this one in particular. Should it be lost in the rain, Marietta would feel no guilt or sadness. The girl had a love for all animals, but horses were not animals. They were beasts with licences to kill.
And then to add to the confusion another person arrived. Marietta blinked the rain out of her eyes and saw Sofia, drenched like everyone else, with another stressed horse. What is going on? Okay, how many people made stupid decisions today? Princess, check. Marietta, check. Her sister, check. And her best friend, check. Marietta couldn’t believe this. They were all rich, all had people that could serve them, and had no reason whatsoever to be out in the docks. Did a witch cast a spell on the noble girls today? Marietta was fully aware that she made a mistake today, but how could four of them make the same mistake? Witchcraft. It was the only explanation. There was a witch in Athenia.
Marietta snapped out of her stupor when her sister spoke to her. “Right… right. Sofia, come help support me.” Marietta’s free hand waved her friend over. “Let Hebe care for your horse. She has a touch that other’s do not.” Yes, yes, her sister as sweet and innocent as she is, spoke an evil tongue that caused horses to follow her every whim. Marietta would be more bitter if she was not so terribly jealous of Hebe’s ability.
Her eyes then moved to Captain Hector, the woman beside her, and the fallen Princess. “Perhaps it would be best to move the Princess,” and her sister, “to shelter. At least until the horses calm and the carriage is upright!”
Three Ladies, a Princess, and two commoners all fighting a swirling tempest, trying their best to make order in chaos. Should everyone come out of this alright, there was one thing Marietta knew for certain: This experience was going to make for an excellent masterpiece.
There was still a dull thud in the back of her head, and a faint tinge of light marred her vision even as she stirred. Emilia tried to blink to get her vision clearer, but it swam still. What she could pinpoint with more certainty however, were the voices that was around her, and how cold her skin was with the material of her chiton sticking to her, the frigid and unforgiving wind like a bite to her skin. Did someone mention fingers and toes?
In her haze, while Emilia wasn't exactly sure who had said that, she did her best to move her digits. They somehow didn't seem to listen to her, but did at least move somewhat, though not entirely the way Emilia had wanted them, and far slower then she had expected. Frowning as she did her best to pry her eyes open, when she eventually did, even then it took a minute before she was able to identify who it was. Hector? Ismene? Had she somehow ended up in Arcana? Last she remembered, she had been in the Athenian marketplace. What had she forgotten?
Voices swirled like a tempest around her, screaming and yelling in a pitch that only made Emilia wince as the sound of ships pitching, boxes crashing and falling along with the angry sounds of Poseidon from the sea. Did she hear the loud whinnying of horses? That sounded too close, yet too far at the same time.
It took another minute or so before the hazy feeling in her head finally cleared up, and the throb in her head has lessened down before Emilia could clearly open her eyes. Though she quickly winced again as the cold rain hit the open irises, it was enough for her to make out where she was, reconfirming that she was indeed still at the northern harbors of Athenia, before looking up to see who all was around her. "Hector? Ismene? I...did not realize you had been around the capitol." she murmured, her voice still soft as she got her bearings, turning to see Sofia, Marietta, Hebe and another young girl Emilia remember briefly meeting before named Hero. "C-could I get some assistance to return to the palati?" she finally asked in a voice more like a sixteen year old scared then a princess of the kingdom.
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May 23, 2020 14:09:46 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on May 23, 2020 14:09:46 GMT
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There was still a dull thud in the back of her head, and a faint tinge of light marred her vision even as she stirred. Emilia tried to blink to get her vision clearer, but it swam still. What she could pinpoint with more certainty however, were the voices that was around her, and how cold her skin was with the material of her chiton sticking to her, the frigid and unforgiving wind like a bite to her skin. Did someone mention fingers and toes?
In her haze, while Emilia wasn't exactly sure who had said that, she did her best to move her digits. They somehow didn't seem to listen to her, but did at least move somewhat, though not entirely the way Emilia had wanted them, and far slower then she had expected. Frowning as she did her best to pry her eyes open, when she eventually did, even then it took a minute before she was able to identify who it was. Hector? Ismene? Had she somehow ended up in Arcana? Last she remembered, she had been in the Athenian marketplace. What had she forgotten?
Voices swirled like a tempest around her, screaming and yelling in a pitch that only made Emilia wince as the sound of ships pitching, boxes crashing and falling along with the angry sounds of Poseidon from the sea. Did she hear the loud whinnying of horses? That sounded too close, yet too far at the same time.
It took another minute or so before the hazy feeling in her head finally cleared up, and the throb in her head has lessened down before Emilia could clearly open her eyes. Though she quickly winced again as the cold rain hit the open irises, it was enough for her to make out where she was, reconfirming that she was indeed still at the northern harbors of Athenia, before looking up to see who all was around her. "Hector? Ismene? I...did not realize you had been around the capitol." she murmured, her voice still soft as she got her bearings, turning to see Sofia, Marietta, Hebe and another young girl Emilia remember briefly meeting before named Hero. "C-could I get some assistance to return to the palati?" she finally asked in a voice more like a sixteen year old scared then a princess of the kingdom.
There was still a dull thud in the back of her head, and a faint tinge of light marred her vision even as she stirred. Emilia tried to blink to get her vision clearer, but it swam still. What she could pinpoint with more certainty however, were the voices that was around her, and how cold her skin was with the material of her chiton sticking to her, the frigid and unforgiving wind like a bite to her skin. Did someone mention fingers and toes?
In her haze, while Emilia wasn't exactly sure who had said that, she did her best to move her digits. They somehow didn't seem to listen to her, but did at least move somewhat, though not entirely the way Emilia had wanted them, and far slower then she had expected. Frowning as she did her best to pry her eyes open, when she eventually did, even then it took a minute before she was able to identify who it was. Hector? Ismene? Had she somehow ended up in Arcana? Last she remembered, she had been in the Athenian marketplace. What had she forgotten?
Voices swirled like a tempest around her, screaming and yelling in a pitch that only made Emilia wince as the sound of ships pitching, boxes crashing and falling along with the angry sounds of Poseidon from the sea. Did she hear the loud whinnying of horses? That sounded too close, yet too far at the same time.
It took another minute or so before the hazy feeling in her head finally cleared up, and the throb in her head has lessened down before Emilia could clearly open her eyes. Though she quickly winced again as the cold rain hit the open irises, it was enough for her to make out where she was, reconfirming that she was indeed still at the northern harbors of Athenia, before looking up to see who all was around her. "Hector? Ismene? I...did not realize you had been around the capitol." she murmured, her voice still soft as she got her bearings, turning to see Sofia, Marietta, Hebe and another young girl Emilia remember briefly meeting before named Hero. "C-could I get some assistance to return to the palati?" she finally asked in a voice more like a sixteen year old scared then a princess of the kingdom.
Elias was not so fearful of the phantom hook and the fact that his body had moved to save the princess. Every little thing could be used to his advantage, every action and the composite reaction an asset with which he could bloat his clout and bring his reputation to a rise and a bloom. As Elias of Stravos ruminated on the fact that he'd put himself at risk for a woman he scarcely even liked, he narrowed his gaze as she spoke out and sought to fix herself up to be as elegant as she could. There was a cut on the girl's cheek and for that, the lord was quite thankful. She could have the reminder of her blunders, of her failure to pay attention that made it requisite for the lord to put himself at risk for her.
But, in the end, all was well and Elias had suffered less for the bit of altruism than Persephone had for being its subject. Instead of accepting her gratitude, he waved it off, letting the mask of humility persist even if he refused to outwardly acknowledge that the princess deserved any of it. When she noted that she was well, he merely nodded, watching as the blood coated the strands of her hair. It was her penance and the look on her face, almost incredulous of the fact of it all...
In truth, the expression was priceless. How Elias of Stravos wished that there was a means of recording one's expressions, for in between the infinite catalog of his own most beautiful expressions he might provide unto the record one single payment of homage to the fact that the pristine princess of Athenia looked to be no more than a dumbstruck peasant caught off-guard by the actions of a godling wearing mortal flesh.
He chuckled as she posed her question, a bit of laughter meant to cover up the blooming of rage that lived within him. Why wouldn't he be here? In the midst of the storm that cancelled all of his day's itinerary, why wouldn't he seek refuge in the palace that would one day be his? The future ruler of Athenia had no reason to give any cause to the princess, to the heir to a man incapable of siring an heir to his legacy. Instead, that legacy went on to a sister who sired a son that wanted nothing to do with power. So, inevitably, the crown would fall to Elias, and his often enough ventures into the palati were nothing if not deserved.
"Am I not permitted passage, princess?" he mused, his tone dripping with sarcasm that was undisguised. In her break of propriety, Elias allowed himself a bit of indulgence into the snarkier side of himself. The side that if given prominence a moment earlier, might've watched as the woman was impaled and let out a scream of woe to disguise the lack of lament for her passing. But, it had not, and he wasn't sorry for it regardless. It would be a waste of such a beautiful body to let it go to Tartarus so soon. Rather than continue on with his bit of sarcasm, he collected himself, letting a smile cast upon his lips as he said,
"I thought to find entry into the palace to hide from the storm. Perhaps the princess would like to better acquaint me with the baths so that I might cleanse the rain water off of me?" he teased her, even winking at the lovely princess as he drew just a step closer.
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May 25, 2020 21:31:21 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on May 25, 2020 21:31:21 GMT
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Elias was not so fearful of the phantom hook and the fact that his body had moved to save the princess. Every little thing could be used to his advantage, every action and the composite reaction an asset with which he could bloat his clout and bring his reputation to a rise and a bloom. As Elias of Stravos ruminated on the fact that he'd put himself at risk for a woman he scarcely even liked, he narrowed his gaze as she spoke out and sought to fix herself up to be as elegant as she could. There was a cut on the girl's cheek and for that, the lord was quite thankful. She could have the reminder of her blunders, of her failure to pay attention that made it requisite for the lord to put himself at risk for her.
But, in the end, all was well and Elias had suffered less for the bit of altruism than Persephone had for being its subject. Instead of accepting her gratitude, he waved it off, letting the mask of humility persist even if he refused to outwardly acknowledge that the princess deserved any of it. When she noted that she was well, he merely nodded, watching as the blood coated the strands of her hair. It was her penance and the look on her face, almost incredulous of the fact of it all...
In truth, the expression was priceless. How Elias of Stravos wished that there was a means of recording one's expressions, for in between the infinite catalog of his own most beautiful expressions he might provide unto the record one single payment of homage to the fact that the pristine princess of Athenia looked to be no more than a dumbstruck peasant caught off-guard by the actions of a godling wearing mortal flesh.
He chuckled as she posed her question, a bit of laughter meant to cover up the blooming of rage that lived within him. Why wouldn't he be here? In the midst of the storm that cancelled all of his day's itinerary, why wouldn't he seek refuge in the palace that would one day be his? The future ruler of Athenia had no reason to give any cause to the princess, to the heir to a man incapable of siring an heir to his legacy. Instead, that legacy went on to a sister who sired a son that wanted nothing to do with power. So, inevitably, the crown would fall to Elias, and his often enough ventures into the palati were nothing if not deserved.
"Am I not permitted passage, princess?" he mused, his tone dripping with sarcasm that was undisguised. In her break of propriety, Elias allowed himself a bit of indulgence into the snarkier side of himself. The side that if given prominence a moment earlier, might've watched as the woman was impaled and let out a scream of woe to disguise the lack of lament for her passing. But, it had not, and he wasn't sorry for it regardless. It would be a waste of such a beautiful body to let it go to Tartarus so soon. Rather than continue on with his bit of sarcasm, he collected himself, letting a smile cast upon his lips as he said,
"I thought to find entry into the palace to hide from the storm. Perhaps the princess would like to better acquaint me with the baths so that I might cleanse the rain water off of me?" he teased her, even winking at the lovely princess as he drew just a step closer.
Elias was not so fearful of the phantom hook and the fact that his body had moved to save the princess. Every little thing could be used to his advantage, every action and the composite reaction an asset with which he could bloat his clout and bring his reputation to a rise and a bloom. As Elias of Stravos ruminated on the fact that he'd put himself at risk for a woman he scarcely even liked, he narrowed his gaze as she spoke out and sought to fix herself up to be as elegant as she could. There was a cut on the girl's cheek and for that, the lord was quite thankful. She could have the reminder of her blunders, of her failure to pay attention that made it requisite for the lord to put himself at risk for her.
But, in the end, all was well and Elias had suffered less for the bit of altruism than Persephone had for being its subject. Instead of accepting her gratitude, he waved it off, letting the mask of humility persist even if he refused to outwardly acknowledge that the princess deserved any of it. When she noted that she was well, he merely nodded, watching as the blood coated the strands of her hair. It was her penance and the look on her face, almost incredulous of the fact of it all...
In truth, the expression was priceless. How Elias of Stravos wished that there was a means of recording one's expressions, for in between the infinite catalog of his own most beautiful expressions he might provide unto the record one single payment of homage to the fact that the pristine princess of Athenia looked to be no more than a dumbstruck peasant caught off-guard by the actions of a godling wearing mortal flesh.
He chuckled as she posed her question, a bit of laughter meant to cover up the blooming of rage that lived within him. Why wouldn't he be here? In the midst of the storm that cancelled all of his day's itinerary, why wouldn't he seek refuge in the palace that would one day be his? The future ruler of Athenia had no reason to give any cause to the princess, to the heir to a man incapable of siring an heir to his legacy. Instead, that legacy went on to a sister who sired a son that wanted nothing to do with power. So, inevitably, the crown would fall to Elias, and his often enough ventures into the palati were nothing if not deserved.
"Am I not permitted passage, princess?" he mused, his tone dripping with sarcasm that was undisguised. In her break of propriety, Elias allowed himself a bit of indulgence into the snarkier side of himself. The side that if given prominence a moment earlier, might've watched as the woman was impaled and let out a scream of woe to disguise the lack of lament for her passing. But, it had not, and he wasn't sorry for it regardless. It would be a waste of such a beautiful body to let it go to Tartarus so soon. Rather than continue on with his bit of sarcasm, he collected himself, letting a smile cast upon his lips as he said,
"I thought to find entry into the palace to hide from the storm. Perhaps the princess would like to better acquaint me with the baths so that I might cleanse the rain water off of me?" he teased her, even winking at the lovely princess as he drew just a step closer.
Persephone was only aware of the light injury upon her face when her cheek started to burn. Yet, the heat was a sign to her that all was well. In her experience of being the unwilling recipient of cuts to her skin via parchment and documents, the smaller the injury, the more it burned. Such an injury could be seen to at a later moment.
For in this one, Elias had her full attention. A man she knew little of but everything about, she was more than a little wary of his presence within her home. Especially when she knew that he had been invited by neither herself nor her father. The fact that he appeared to be taking amusement in the situation had her distrust sparking higher.
Persephone was more than aware that her impressions of Elias were unfair. Formed from admittedly shallow evidence, including rumours of his conquests throughout the courtiers of Athenia and her own administrators' distrust of his intentions towards any that disagreed with his preferred political line, the princess was open to the concept that Elias had more to offer than rumour and hearsay. Yet his attitude of disregard and languid ease wasn't doing much for contradicting the impressions she had already formed.
When the man suggested that he was not permitted passage into the palace, Persephone neither blinked nor caved at the accusation. It was true that, as one of royal blood and close familial connection to the monarch, he was more than permitted to wander the corridors, outside of the Xanthos family's private quarters. Even if it was decidedly without decorum not to alert them to his visit beforehand. But she was quick to recollect her calm elegance and reply with a simple and innocent tone. She cleared her throat a little, suggesting a return of her manners.
"By no means, Lord Elias." She suggested, her shoulders falling into a position of trained posture. "But I inquired as to why, rather than how." Her brow raised. How he was able to walk the corridors was clear enough between the two. Why he was here, was an entirely different question. Yet, he dodged answering it regardless.
If she hadn't been convinced of his playboy ways through rumour and speculation, his advance upon her and cheeky suggestion of taking to the baths was enough proof of the assessment she had made of him at a distance.
Rather than step backwards, retreating as to his sudden advance, Persephone held firm in her position, hands folded demurely in front of her.
"I would hate to tarnish your reputation, Lord Elias, with the rumour that you were alone in the baths with a woman that could become a faster route for you to the crown. Athenia should surely know that their king came by his rule honestly, don't you think?" She said. The lilt in her voice suggested that butter wouldn't melt. Her eyes sparked and her face remained calm despite the unruly elements of her appearance that she could do nothing to correct in this moment. "But I could have a servant fetched to show you the way, should you wish it?"
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May 27, 2020 12:58:27 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on May 27, 2020 12:58:27 GMT
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Persephone was only aware of the light injury upon her face when her cheek started to burn. Yet, the heat was a sign to her that all was well. In her experience of being the unwilling recipient of cuts to her skin via parchment and documents, the smaller the injury, the more it burned. Such an injury could be seen to at a later moment.
For in this one, Elias had her full attention. A man she knew little of but everything about, she was more than a little wary of his presence within her home. Especially when she knew that he had been invited by neither herself nor her father. The fact that he appeared to be taking amusement in the situation had her distrust sparking higher.
Persephone was more than aware that her impressions of Elias were unfair. Formed from admittedly shallow evidence, including rumours of his conquests throughout the courtiers of Athenia and her own administrators' distrust of his intentions towards any that disagreed with his preferred political line, the princess was open to the concept that Elias had more to offer than rumour and hearsay. Yet his attitude of disregard and languid ease wasn't doing much for contradicting the impressions she had already formed.
When the man suggested that he was not permitted passage into the palace, Persephone neither blinked nor caved at the accusation. It was true that, as one of royal blood and close familial connection to the monarch, he was more than permitted to wander the corridors, outside of the Xanthos family's private quarters. Even if it was decidedly without decorum not to alert them to his visit beforehand. But she was quick to recollect her calm elegance and reply with a simple and innocent tone. She cleared her throat a little, suggesting a return of her manners.
"By no means, Lord Elias." She suggested, her shoulders falling into a position of trained posture. "But I inquired as to why, rather than how." Her brow raised. How he was able to walk the corridors was clear enough between the two. Why he was here, was an entirely different question. Yet, he dodged answering it regardless.
If she hadn't been convinced of his playboy ways through rumour and speculation, his advance upon her and cheeky suggestion of taking to the baths was enough proof of the assessment she had made of him at a distance.
Rather than step backwards, retreating as to his sudden advance, Persephone held firm in her position, hands folded demurely in front of her.
"I would hate to tarnish your reputation, Lord Elias, with the rumour that you were alone in the baths with a woman that could become a faster route for you to the crown. Athenia should surely know that their king came by his rule honestly, don't you think?" She said. The lilt in her voice suggested that butter wouldn't melt. Her eyes sparked and her face remained calm despite the unruly elements of her appearance that she could do nothing to correct in this moment. "But I could have a servant fetched to show you the way, should you wish it?"
Persephone was only aware of the light injury upon her face when her cheek started to burn. Yet, the heat was a sign to her that all was well. In her experience of being the unwilling recipient of cuts to her skin via parchment and documents, the smaller the injury, the more it burned. Such an injury could be seen to at a later moment.
For in this one, Elias had her full attention. A man she knew little of but everything about, she was more than a little wary of his presence within her home. Especially when she knew that he had been invited by neither herself nor her father. The fact that he appeared to be taking amusement in the situation had her distrust sparking higher.
Persephone was more than aware that her impressions of Elias were unfair. Formed from admittedly shallow evidence, including rumours of his conquests throughout the courtiers of Athenia and her own administrators' distrust of his intentions towards any that disagreed with his preferred political line, the princess was open to the concept that Elias had more to offer than rumour and hearsay. Yet his attitude of disregard and languid ease wasn't doing much for contradicting the impressions she had already formed.
When the man suggested that he was not permitted passage into the palace, Persephone neither blinked nor caved at the accusation. It was true that, as one of royal blood and close familial connection to the monarch, he was more than permitted to wander the corridors, outside of the Xanthos family's private quarters. Even if it was decidedly without decorum not to alert them to his visit beforehand. But she was quick to recollect her calm elegance and reply with a simple and innocent tone. She cleared her throat a little, suggesting a return of her manners.
"By no means, Lord Elias." She suggested, her shoulders falling into a position of trained posture. "But I inquired as to why, rather than how." Her brow raised. How he was able to walk the corridors was clear enough between the two. Why he was here, was an entirely different question. Yet, he dodged answering it regardless.
If she hadn't been convinced of his playboy ways through rumour and speculation, his advance upon her and cheeky suggestion of taking to the baths was enough proof of the assessment she had made of him at a distance.
Rather than step backwards, retreating as to his sudden advance, Persephone held firm in her position, hands folded demurely in front of her.
"I would hate to tarnish your reputation, Lord Elias, with the rumour that you were alone in the baths with a woman that could become a faster route for you to the crown. Athenia should surely know that their king came by his rule honestly, don't you think?" She said. The lilt in her voice suggested that butter wouldn't melt. Her eyes sparked and her face remained calm despite the unruly elements of her appearance that she could do nothing to correct in this moment. "But I could have a servant fetched to show you the way, should you wish it?"
Hector took a moment to recall the date, his mind fluttering through all of the probabilities for there being so many young women around the docks. Was it a high holy day for the goddesses? No, no, it could not be. A man as devout as kept tabs on such important festival dates. However, it could have easily been mistaken for these young, unmarried women to have gathered in such a collection at once.
Yet, for the moment, Lady Sofia of Marikas jumped high up in his regard as she asked for a way to help, instead of simply standing about.
"Lady Marietta hurt her ankle," he informed, offering slight side-glance to Lady Hebe as if to offer her that explanation. "Could you help support her, Lady Sofia? We need to get away from the Crescent immediately. To the Palati, preferably, for the Princess. From there, when the storm settles, we can send messages to your families to let them know you are safe."
Lady Marietta echoed the order in her own way, even going so far as to deliver orders of her own. If this were a moment with significantly less danger and urgency, he would have found it amusing. Still, his eyes continuously glanced over to the looming masts and furiously fluttering sails of the ships nearing their doom.
In the roar of wind and rain, Hector's attention was drawn back to Princess Emilia's soft voice, disoriented and clearly frightened. It struck a chord in his chest, seeing someone not much younger than his own daughters hurt and frightened, and he reached out and arm to her for support. "We can, as quickly as possible."
He carefully toed the line of urgency and calm as he glanced back to where several of the Xanthos soldiers were shouting warnings as a crack of timbers echoed across the docks. A mast from one of the ships had broken, collapsing across two of the other ships as the wind continued to push them in towards the docks.
"Quick, everyone. Move!" he urged, but thankfully it did not seem as though he would need to tell them twice. The impending threat was closer than ever before. They made their way up the sloping rise away from the crescent when the smashing of timbers from both ship and dock snapped loud enough to be mistaken for lightning. He glanced a look back at the chaos, fuzzy through the torrential rain.
The ships loomed and wrestled, and Hector imagined this what a war between gods and titans must have seemed like to mortals. Still supporting the Princess with his free arm, he noticed that others were just as guilty as him as they watched the carnage below.
"Keep moving," he urged, gesturing with an arm for them to move along, but noticing the agonized looks across the faces around him. Yes, he knew there would be hurt and death down below, and for some of them, they likely had not experience or thought of such things on a massive scale. It was amazing how the years could almost dull the ache of empathy towards lives lost. Everyone knew the fear of death, but to recognize it on display before your eyes was always hard to process.
The Captain took a moment to catch Ismene's eye, knowing that her instinct - like his brother's - was to go and help those who were hurt. He knew where her mind was in this, but also knew that she fought it to remain on the other side of the Princess as they moved.
"We're almost there," Hector offered, as a soft comfort to the Princess that was not entirely true. They would still battle the way the wind whipped through the narrow streets on the way to the Palati. However, his eyes scanned their ragtag group of nobles and commoners as they made their way as a soaked-through entourage through the Captial, with the fainted outline of the Palati rising through the haze of rain in the distance.
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Hector took a moment to recall the date, his mind fluttering through all of the probabilities for there being so many young women around the docks. Was it a high holy day for the goddesses? No, no, it could not be. A man as devout as kept tabs on such important festival dates. However, it could have easily been mistaken for these young, unmarried women to have gathered in such a collection at once.
Yet, for the moment, Lady Sofia of Marikas jumped high up in his regard as she asked for a way to help, instead of simply standing about.
"Lady Marietta hurt her ankle," he informed, offering slight side-glance to Lady Hebe as if to offer her that explanation. "Could you help support her, Lady Sofia? We need to get away from the Crescent immediately. To the Palati, preferably, for the Princess. From there, when the storm settles, we can send messages to your families to let them know you are safe."
Lady Marietta echoed the order in her own way, even going so far as to deliver orders of her own. If this were a moment with significantly less danger and urgency, he would have found it amusing. Still, his eyes continuously glanced over to the looming masts and furiously fluttering sails of the ships nearing their doom.
In the roar of wind and rain, Hector's attention was drawn back to Princess Emilia's soft voice, disoriented and clearly frightened. It struck a chord in his chest, seeing someone not much younger than his own daughters hurt and frightened, and he reached out and arm to her for support. "We can, as quickly as possible."
He carefully toed the line of urgency and calm as he glanced back to where several of the Xanthos soldiers were shouting warnings as a crack of timbers echoed across the docks. A mast from one of the ships had broken, collapsing across two of the other ships as the wind continued to push them in towards the docks.
"Quick, everyone. Move!" he urged, but thankfully it did not seem as though he would need to tell them twice. The impending threat was closer than ever before. They made their way up the sloping rise away from the crescent when the smashing of timbers from both ship and dock snapped loud enough to be mistaken for lightning. He glanced a look back at the chaos, fuzzy through the torrential rain.
The ships loomed and wrestled, and Hector imagined this what a war between gods and titans must have seemed like to mortals. Still supporting the Princess with his free arm, he noticed that others were just as guilty as him as they watched the carnage below.
"Keep moving," he urged, gesturing with an arm for them to move along, but noticing the agonized looks across the faces around him. Yes, he knew there would be hurt and death down below, and for some of them, they likely had not experience or thought of such things on a massive scale. It was amazing how the years could almost dull the ache of empathy towards lives lost. Everyone knew the fear of death, but to recognize it on display before your eyes was always hard to process.
The Captain took a moment to catch Ismene's eye, knowing that her instinct - like his brother's - was to go and help those who were hurt. He knew where her mind was in this, but also knew that she fought it to remain on the other side of the Princess as they moved.
"We're almost there," Hector offered, as a soft comfort to the Princess that was not entirely true. They would still battle the way the wind whipped through the narrow streets on the way to the Palati. However, his eyes scanned their ragtag group of nobles and commoners as they made their way as a soaked-through entourage through the Captial, with the fainted outline of the Palati rising through the haze of rain in the distance.
Hector took a moment to recall the date, his mind fluttering through all of the probabilities for there being so many young women around the docks. Was it a high holy day for the goddesses? No, no, it could not be. A man as devout as kept tabs on such important festival dates. However, it could have easily been mistaken for these young, unmarried women to have gathered in such a collection at once.
Yet, for the moment, Lady Sofia of Marikas jumped high up in his regard as she asked for a way to help, instead of simply standing about.
"Lady Marietta hurt her ankle," he informed, offering slight side-glance to Lady Hebe as if to offer her that explanation. "Could you help support her, Lady Sofia? We need to get away from the Crescent immediately. To the Palati, preferably, for the Princess. From there, when the storm settles, we can send messages to your families to let them know you are safe."
Lady Marietta echoed the order in her own way, even going so far as to deliver orders of her own. If this were a moment with significantly less danger and urgency, he would have found it amusing. Still, his eyes continuously glanced over to the looming masts and furiously fluttering sails of the ships nearing their doom.
In the roar of wind and rain, Hector's attention was drawn back to Princess Emilia's soft voice, disoriented and clearly frightened. It struck a chord in his chest, seeing someone not much younger than his own daughters hurt and frightened, and he reached out and arm to her for support. "We can, as quickly as possible."
He carefully toed the line of urgency and calm as he glanced back to where several of the Xanthos soldiers were shouting warnings as a crack of timbers echoed across the docks. A mast from one of the ships had broken, collapsing across two of the other ships as the wind continued to push them in towards the docks.
"Quick, everyone. Move!" he urged, but thankfully it did not seem as though he would need to tell them twice. The impending threat was closer than ever before. They made their way up the sloping rise away from the crescent when the smashing of timbers from both ship and dock snapped loud enough to be mistaken for lightning. He glanced a look back at the chaos, fuzzy through the torrential rain.
The ships loomed and wrestled, and Hector imagined this what a war between gods and titans must have seemed like to mortals. Still supporting the Princess with his free arm, he noticed that others were just as guilty as him as they watched the carnage below.
"Keep moving," he urged, gesturing with an arm for them to move along, but noticing the agonized looks across the faces around him. Yes, he knew there would be hurt and death down below, and for some of them, they likely had not experience or thought of such things on a massive scale. It was amazing how the years could almost dull the ache of empathy towards lives lost. Everyone knew the fear of death, but to recognize it on display before your eyes was always hard to process.
The Captain took a moment to catch Ismene's eye, knowing that her instinct - like his brother's - was to go and help those who were hurt. He knew where her mind was in this, but also knew that she fought it to remain on the other side of the Princess as they moved.
"We're almost there," Hector offered, as a soft comfort to the Princess that was not entirely true. They would still battle the way the wind whipped through the narrow streets on the way to the Palati. However, his eyes scanned their ragtag group of nobles and commoners as they made their way as a soaked-through entourage through the Captial, with the fainted outline of the Palati rising through the haze of rain in the distance.
Up close, everything looked even more disastrous. It was hard to focus with Ops yanking on his reigns and the wind distorting all attempts at conversation. Knowing better than to approach Marietta with a horse, let alone a distraught one, Sofia handed the reigns over to Hebe, Marietta’s sister, trying not to be too skeptical. The girl was too young for court, for gods’ sake, and she was going to take care of a terrified horse in a storm? Still, Ops did seem calmer in the younger girl’s hands. Good. One less thing to worry about. “Thank you, Hebe,” she said, smiling encouragingly at the younger girl.
Turning back to the Captain, she nodded, accepting his instructions. Sofia of Marikas was hardly the best in a crisis, but she was far from the worst, too. Given clear directions, as both Hector and Marietta had done, she was generally able to function properly. And so she moved towards her best friend, wrapping an arm around Marietta’s hips to support her. “Put most of your weight on me,” she said gently, shifting her own weight as they got adjusted. The little group started to move, up a twisting slope and away from the water. Sofia concentrated on keeping Marietta upright, conscious of all the little stones and streams tumbling down towards them as they rose. But a huge crash echoed across the area and she stopped, eyes flashing towards the sea.
It was devastating. The docks were in ruins, the ships crashing and breaking like sticks given to a careless child. There was shouting and screaming and pain below, and there they were, leaving. It hardly seemed right, though there was clearly nothing a group of royal women could do but get in the way. The Captain seemed to recognize this; he urged them to continue through the tempest and Sofia felt her feet begin to move again of their own accord. “Just keep going,” she murmured to Marietta, feeling strangely subdued. She had never seen devastation on this scale before. So many lives would be destroyed. What had Athenia done to incur this rage?
The group moved so slowly, the wind whipping and stinging their faces as they went. The Palati was just visible, blurry in the distance, still impossibly far away. No one was saying much, so horror-struck by the desolation below. Sofia shifted her weight again, glancing worriedly at Marietta. It was hard enough to walk in a storm with two working legs; she knew her friend must be in pain and struggling much more.
Still, they were nearing proper streets now. Sofia desperately hoped that the buildings would provide some shelter from the wind, but as it howled toward them, it seemed they would do the opposite, funneling vicious air at the little group instead. “Alright,” she murmured again, steeling her courage and tightening her grip on Marietta, “Here we go.”
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Up close, everything looked even more disastrous. It was hard to focus with Ops yanking on his reigns and the wind distorting all attempts at conversation. Knowing better than to approach Marietta with a horse, let alone a distraught one, Sofia handed the reigns over to Hebe, Marietta’s sister, trying not to be too skeptical. The girl was too young for court, for gods’ sake, and she was going to take care of a terrified horse in a storm? Still, Ops did seem calmer in the younger girl’s hands. Good. One less thing to worry about. “Thank you, Hebe,” she said, smiling encouragingly at the younger girl.
Turning back to the Captain, she nodded, accepting his instructions. Sofia of Marikas was hardly the best in a crisis, but she was far from the worst, too. Given clear directions, as both Hector and Marietta had done, she was generally able to function properly. And so she moved towards her best friend, wrapping an arm around Marietta’s hips to support her. “Put most of your weight on me,” she said gently, shifting her own weight as they got adjusted. The little group started to move, up a twisting slope and away from the water. Sofia concentrated on keeping Marietta upright, conscious of all the little stones and streams tumbling down towards them as they rose. But a huge crash echoed across the area and she stopped, eyes flashing towards the sea.
It was devastating. The docks were in ruins, the ships crashing and breaking like sticks given to a careless child. There was shouting and screaming and pain below, and there they were, leaving. It hardly seemed right, though there was clearly nothing a group of royal women could do but get in the way. The Captain seemed to recognize this; he urged them to continue through the tempest and Sofia felt her feet begin to move again of their own accord. “Just keep going,” she murmured to Marietta, feeling strangely subdued. She had never seen devastation on this scale before. So many lives would be destroyed. What had Athenia done to incur this rage?
The group moved so slowly, the wind whipping and stinging their faces as they went. The Palati was just visible, blurry in the distance, still impossibly far away. No one was saying much, so horror-struck by the desolation below. Sofia shifted her weight again, glancing worriedly at Marietta. It was hard enough to walk in a storm with two working legs; she knew her friend must be in pain and struggling much more.
Still, they were nearing proper streets now. Sofia desperately hoped that the buildings would provide some shelter from the wind, but as it howled toward them, it seemed they would do the opposite, funneling vicious air at the little group instead. “Alright,” she murmured again, steeling her courage and tightening her grip on Marietta, “Here we go.”
Up close, everything looked even more disastrous. It was hard to focus with Ops yanking on his reigns and the wind distorting all attempts at conversation. Knowing better than to approach Marietta with a horse, let alone a distraught one, Sofia handed the reigns over to Hebe, Marietta’s sister, trying not to be too skeptical. The girl was too young for court, for gods’ sake, and she was going to take care of a terrified horse in a storm? Still, Ops did seem calmer in the younger girl’s hands. Good. One less thing to worry about. “Thank you, Hebe,” she said, smiling encouragingly at the younger girl.
Turning back to the Captain, she nodded, accepting his instructions. Sofia of Marikas was hardly the best in a crisis, but she was far from the worst, too. Given clear directions, as both Hector and Marietta had done, she was generally able to function properly. And so she moved towards her best friend, wrapping an arm around Marietta’s hips to support her. “Put most of your weight on me,” she said gently, shifting her own weight as they got adjusted. The little group started to move, up a twisting slope and away from the water. Sofia concentrated on keeping Marietta upright, conscious of all the little stones and streams tumbling down towards them as they rose. But a huge crash echoed across the area and she stopped, eyes flashing towards the sea.
It was devastating. The docks were in ruins, the ships crashing and breaking like sticks given to a careless child. There was shouting and screaming and pain below, and there they were, leaving. It hardly seemed right, though there was clearly nothing a group of royal women could do but get in the way. The Captain seemed to recognize this; he urged them to continue through the tempest and Sofia felt her feet begin to move again of their own accord. “Just keep going,” she murmured to Marietta, feeling strangely subdued. She had never seen devastation on this scale before. So many lives would be destroyed. What had Athenia done to incur this rage?
The group moved so slowly, the wind whipping and stinging their faces as they went. The Palati was just visible, blurry in the distance, still impossibly far away. No one was saying much, so horror-struck by the desolation below. Sofia shifted her weight again, glancing worriedly at Marietta. It was hard enough to walk in a storm with two working legs; she knew her friend must be in pain and struggling much more.
Still, they were nearing proper streets now. Sofia desperately hoped that the buildings would provide some shelter from the wind, but as it howled toward them, it seemed they would do the opposite, funneling vicious air at the little group instead. “Alright,” she murmured again, steeling her courage and tightening her grip on Marietta, “Here we go.”
The sound of the boats crashing together made Marietta’s blood run cold. She thought it was thunder, at first, until she saw the masts crash together and the ocean engulf the ships. People would be dead, Marietta was sure. How many? Five? Ten? Fifty? Hundreds? This storm was unforgiving, Zeus’s punishment for Athenian hubris perhaps. Or perhaps this was a battle between brothers, Zeus in the sky and Poseidon in the ocean. The people of Athenia was trapped in the middle, suffering so that the gods could have their war. Like ants below a person’s foot, the people were powerless to stop it. Royal, commoner, slave, they were all victims in this terrible, terrible day.
The pain in her ankle was now agonizing. This ankle was not meant to be run on and even with most of her weight being supported by Sofia, the pain only got worse. She didn’t know if she would collapse from how weak it was getting. But there was one thought that distracted Marietta from the pain. One worry that was greater than everything else.
Hebe is tiny.
It was good that the Captain had a concussed young Princess in his care, but that left her little sister to struggle with horses in a wind tunnel. What if she was blown away? What if she fell and was trampled by the beasts? What if she was hurt? Marietta cared for the Princess, it was the Princess after all, but Hebe was her priority.
Marietta reached her free hand over to where she believe Hebe was. With the wind and rain blinding her, she could only guess. “Hebe, we can collect the horses after!” Marietta shouted through the thunder. “Grab my hand!”
Tears were not common for the young lady. She could count in one hand the times she had cried. But when the two were back at the Antonis house, Marietta would shed tears of relief as she hugged (and chastised) her sister. She just needed her to get there, needed her to be safe.
The wind was working against the group. It felt to Marietta as if every step forward she took would only result in her sliding two steps back. It was an impossible force working against everyone, keeping them in danger. The world around them was a mess, broken beyond repair. There were turned over carriages on the side of the road, animals running amok, and…
A large tree branch headed right towards them.
“Get down!” Marietta shouted, attempting to pull her friend down with her. She felt the branch pass over her head, her heart racing as it did. “Is everyone alright?” She called out.
But she could not stop. More, and more steps, each with burning pain growing worse and worse, were had until finally, the group made it through the wall of wind. They were practically at the palatai now. It was no longer this small spec in the distance. It was large and beckoning the group ever closer. Marietta looked around, now that the wind was no longer blinding them. Was everyone here? Were they uninjured?
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Jun 11, 2020 15:03:45 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on Jun 11, 2020 15:03:45 GMT
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The sound of the boats crashing together made Marietta’s blood run cold. She thought it was thunder, at first, until she saw the masts crash together and the ocean engulf the ships. People would be dead, Marietta was sure. How many? Five? Ten? Fifty? Hundreds? This storm was unforgiving, Zeus’s punishment for Athenian hubris perhaps. Or perhaps this was a battle between brothers, Zeus in the sky and Poseidon in the ocean. The people of Athenia was trapped in the middle, suffering so that the gods could have their war. Like ants below a person’s foot, the people were powerless to stop it. Royal, commoner, slave, they were all victims in this terrible, terrible day.
The pain in her ankle was now agonizing. This ankle was not meant to be run on and even with most of her weight being supported by Sofia, the pain only got worse. She didn’t know if she would collapse from how weak it was getting. But there was one thought that distracted Marietta from the pain. One worry that was greater than everything else.
Hebe is tiny.
It was good that the Captain had a concussed young Princess in his care, but that left her little sister to struggle with horses in a wind tunnel. What if she was blown away? What if she fell and was trampled by the beasts? What if she was hurt? Marietta cared for the Princess, it was the Princess after all, but Hebe was her priority.
Marietta reached her free hand over to where she believe Hebe was. With the wind and rain blinding her, she could only guess. “Hebe, we can collect the horses after!” Marietta shouted through the thunder. “Grab my hand!”
Tears were not common for the young lady. She could count in one hand the times she had cried. But when the two were back at the Antonis house, Marietta would shed tears of relief as she hugged (and chastised) her sister. She just needed her to get there, needed her to be safe.
The wind was working against the group. It felt to Marietta as if every step forward she took would only result in her sliding two steps back. It was an impossible force working against everyone, keeping them in danger. The world around them was a mess, broken beyond repair. There were turned over carriages on the side of the road, animals running amok, and…
A large tree branch headed right towards them.
“Get down!” Marietta shouted, attempting to pull her friend down with her. She felt the branch pass over her head, her heart racing as it did. “Is everyone alright?” She called out.
But she could not stop. More, and more steps, each with burning pain growing worse and worse, were had until finally, the group made it through the wall of wind. They were practically at the palatai now. It was no longer this small spec in the distance. It was large and beckoning the group ever closer. Marietta looked around, now that the wind was no longer blinding them. Was everyone here? Were they uninjured?
The sound of the boats crashing together made Marietta’s blood run cold. She thought it was thunder, at first, until she saw the masts crash together and the ocean engulf the ships. People would be dead, Marietta was sure. How many? Five? Ten? Fifty? Hundreds? This storm was unforgiving, Zeus’s punishment for Athenian hubris perhaps. Or perhaps this was a battle between brothers, Zeus in the sky and Poseidon in the ocean. The people of Athenia was trapped in the middle, suffering so that the gods could have their war. Like ants below a person’s foot, the people were powerless to stop it. Royal, commoner, slave, they were all victims in this terrible, terrible day.
The pain in her ankle was now agonizing. This ankle was not meant to be run on and even with most of her weight being supported by Sofia, the pain only got worse. She didn’t know if she would collapse from how weak it was getting. But there was one thought that distracted Marietta from the pain. One worry that was greater than everything else.
Hebe is tiny.
It was good that the Captain had a concussed young Princess in his care, but that left her little sister to struggle with horses in a wind tunnel. What if she was blown away? What if she fell and was trampled by the beasts? What if she was hurt? Marietta cared for the Princess, it was the Princess after all, but Hebe was her priority.
Marietta reached her free hand over to where she believe Hebe was. With the wind and rain blinding her, she could only guess. “Hebe, we can collect the horses after!” Marietta shouted through the thunder. “Grab my hand!”
Tears were not common for the young lady. She could count in one hand the times she had cried. But when the two were back at the Antonis house, Marietta would shed tears of relief as she hugged (and chastised) her sister. She just needed her to get there, needed her to be safe.
The wind was working against the group. It felt to Marietta as if every step forward she took would only result in her sliding two steps back. It was an impossible force working against everyone, keeping them in danger. The world around them was a mess, broken beyond repair. There were turned over carriages on the side of the road, animals running amok, and…
A large tree branch headed right towards them.
“Get down!” Marietta shouted, attempting to pull her friend down with her. She felt the branch pass over her head, her heart racing as it did. “Is everyone alright?” She called out.
But she could not stop. More, and more steps, each with burning pain growing worse and worse, were had until finally, the group made it through the wall of wind. They were practically at the palatai now. It was no longer this small spec in the distance. It was large and beckoning the group ever closer. Marietta looked around, now that the wind was no longer blinding them. Was everyone here? Were they uninjured?
Despite not really knowing the captain of Arcana much, he was at least a familiar face in the midst of lashing storm and the shouts of confused and frantic people in the onset of the storm. As the ships came nearer and nearer to the harbor, the level of panic in the harbours only escalated, but all of it was only happening in the periphery of Emilia's attention as she stood woozily on her feet, still leaning heavily on one of the guards who had ran in to help the young princess.
The back of her head pounded, and she could barely feel her fingers as she stood up, with the stars still floating in her eyes. While Emilia usually enjoyed her jaunts to the village and market, the princess suddenly found herself very much wishing she could be back in the warm comfort of her bed and an army of servants attending to her every need.
The girl winced at the loud urgings of the captain, but in truth she should understand the necessity of it, what with the growing levels of panic by everyone around them. Having little choice but to move in whatever way Hector brought her, Emilia was little more then a doll dragging her feet as they made their way to the palati. Had she been more aware of her surroundings, Emilia would be much like Ismene, concerned for the wellbeing of the people of Athenia far beyond being concerned for her own self - but the young brunette was passed that stage.
The streets Hector dragged her own with its more even surface allowed Emilia to get better grip so she was less of a deadweight to Hector as they made their way to the palati. What was supposedly a short distance now seemed impossibly far in the face of fierce winds, heavy rain and a stray branch that would've knocked the whole ragtag group over had they not acted fast enough to dodge the tree branch.
Emilia only fell herself pulled down, but was focusing mainly on her vision being less hazy so she could make her way to the front gates of the palati, which was also her home. Only the certainty of a warm bed and the comforting arms of her sister was enough to keep her going, and it didn't take long before the young brunette had her hand gripping the steel gates. It only took a glance for the guards to recognize the bedraggled look that was the princess, and half an army of servants was quickly summoned to help the whole group of nobles and royals who had arrived at the steps of the royal palati.
But it was of most comfort to Emilia when her familiar handmaidens came to usher them all in dripping and soaked to the bone to the waiting foyer of the palace of Athenia. "Where's my sister?" she asked in a shaky voice, suddenly extremely eager to see Persephone. She wanted to see Minas too, but perhaps when she looked less worst for wear.Her father's health had not been the best lately, and Emilia did not wish to worry him.
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Jun 23, 2020 14:02:33 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on Jun 23, 2020 14:02:33 GMT
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Despite not really knowing the captain of Arcana much, he was at least a familiar face in the midst of lashing storm and the shouts of confused and frantic people in the onset of the storm. As the ships came nearer and nearer to the harbor, the level of panic in the harbours only escalated, but all of it was only happening in the periphery of Emilia's attention as she stood woozily on her feet, still leaning heavily on one of the guards who had ran in to help the young princess.
The back of her head pounded, and she could barely feel her fingers as she stood up, with the stars still floating in her eyes. While Emilia usually enjoyed her jaunts to the village and market, the princess suddenly found herself very much wishing she could be back in the warm comfort of her bed and an army of servants attending to her every need.
The girl winced at the loud urgings of the captain, but in truth she should understand the necessity of it, what with the growing levels of panic by everyone around them. Having little choice but to move in whatever way Hector brought her, Emilia was little more then a doll dragging her feet as they made their way to the palati. Had she been more aware of her surroundings, Emilia would be much like Ismene, concerned for the wellbeing of the people of Athenia far beyond being concerned for her own self - but the young brunette was passed that stage.
The streets Hector dragged her own with its more even surface allowed Emilia to get better grip so she was less of a deadweight to Hector as they made their way to the palati. What was supposedly a short distance now seemed impossibly far in the face of fierce winds, heavy rain and a stray branch that would've knocked the whole ragtag group over had they not acted fast enough to dodge the tree branch.
Emilia only fell herself pulled down, but was focusing mainly on her vision being less hazy so she could make her way to the front gates of the palati, which was also her home. Only the certainty of a warm bed and the comforting arms of her sister was enough to keep her going, and it didn't take long before the young brunette had her hand gripping the steel gates. It only took a glance for the guards to recognize the bedraggled look that was the princess, and half an army of servants was quickly summoned to help the whole group of nobles and royals who had arrived at the steps of the royal palati.
But it was of most comfort to Emilia when her familiar handmaidens came to usher them all in dripping and soaked to the bone to the waiting foyer of the palace of Athenia. "Where's my sister?" she asked in a shaky voice, suddenly extremely eager to see Persephone. She wanted to see Minas too, but perhaps when she looked less worst for wear.Her father's health had not been the best lately, and Emilia did not wish to worry him.
Despite not really knowing the captain of Arcana much, he was at least a familiar face in the midst of lashing storm and the shouts of confused and frantic people in the onset of the storm. As the ships came nearer and nearer to the harbor, the level of panic in the harbours only escalated, but all of it was only happening in the periphery of Emilia's attention as she stood woozily on her feet, still leaning heavily on one of the guards who had ran in to help the young princess.
The back of her head pounded, and she could barely feel her fingers as she stood up, with the stars still floating in her eyes. While Emilia usually enjoyed her jaunts to the village and market, the princess suddenly found herself very much wishing she could be back in the warm comfort of her bed and an army of servants attending to her every need.
The girl winced at the loud urgings of the captain, but in truth she should understand the necessity of it, what with the growing levels of panic by everyone around them. Having little choice but to move in whatever way Hector brought her, Emilia was little more then a doll dragging her feet as they made their way to the palati. Had she been more aware of her surroundings, Emilia would be much like Ismene, concerned for the wellbeing of the people of Athenia far beyond being concerned for her own self - but the young brunette was passed that stage.
The streets Hector dragged her own with its more even surface allowed Emilia to get better grip so she was less of a deadweight to Hector as they made their way to the palati. What was supposedly a short distance now seemed impossibly far in the face of fierce winds, heavy rain and a stray branch that would've knocked the whole ragtag group over had they not acted fast enough to dodge the tree branch.
Emilia only fell herself pulled down, but was focusing mainly on her vision being less hazy so she could make her way to the front gates of the palati, which was also her home. Only the certainty of a warm bed and the comforting arms of her sister was enough to keep her going, and it didn't take long before the young brunette had her hand gripping the steel gates. It only took a glance for the guards to recognize the bedraggled look that was the princess, and half an army of servants was quickly summoned to help the whole group of nobles and royals who had arrived at the steps of the royal palati.
But it was of most comfort to Emilia when her familiar handmaidens came to usher them all in dripping and soaked to the bone to the waiting foyer of the palace of Athenia. "Where's my sister?" she asked in a shaky voice, suddenly extremely eager to see Persephone. She wanted to see Minas too, but perhaps when she looked less worst for wear.Her father's health had not been the best lately, and Emilia did not wish to worry him.
Hebe sighed as Marietta called her horse a beast of Tartarus. Squinting, she looked closely at the equine her sister had been riding. He was one of the more skittish creatures in the Antonis stables. If she couldn’t handle him, why had she not chosen a calmer one? “The fault rarely lies with the horse,” she murmured. “It lies with the rider.” She didn’t really care if Marietta heard her or not.
At least she asked Lady Sofia to let Hebe calm her horse. The other woman took her place, supporting Marietta. That was a relief. She had never realized how heavy her sister was until now. She was by no means overweight; she was just too big for an eleven-year-old to hold up. Sofia would be able to help her better. The horse was not difficult to calm and she smiled when its owner thanked her.
A sickening cracking sound caught her attention and she glanced toward the sea where several ships were locked in a strange and fearsome dance. They were breaking apart and sinking into the ocean. What of their crews, Hebe wondered? Would they drown or could they swim? If she was a mermaid, she would save them all and leave them on the beach. But she wasn’t a mermaid and there was nothing a small girl could do to help them.
While she was watching the macabre scene playing itself out before her eyes, the rest of the group had moved off. That man who had almost kidnapped Marietta was issuing orders that Hebe could hardly hear. That was just as well. She wouldn’t have obeyed him anyway. The young animal lover didn’t like him. He had completely abandoned the horses. Hebe heard her sister’s voice, but her words were lost by distance and the wind.
She brushed back the wet locks of hair that kept blowing in her face as she watched them go. Marietta was being taken care of, but the horses weren’t. That job fell to her. Gathering up the reins of Sofia’s horse, she led it over to the other two and swung herself into Whimsy’s saddle. Keeping the horses at a walk, she turned away from the beach and the crumbling ships and headed down the path that lead to the manor. Horses generally knew the way home, and she let Whimsy lead the way. During the journey, she had to stop a few times and calm the other two horses, but eventually she made it home. After handing all three soaked horses over to the stable attendants, she sneaked in through the servant’s entrance.
When she got to her room, leaving a trail of water in her wake, her handmaidens dried her off and untangled her hair. As a silky chiton was slipped over her head, she realized how exhausted she was. Hebe knew she should tell her parents what had happened and where Marietta was, but she could hardly keep her eyes open. Crawling into bed, she yawned and then fell fast asleep.
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Jul 18, 2020 10:09:06 GMT
Posted In Wind and Rain on Jul 18, 2020 10:09:06 GMT
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Hebe sighed as Marietta called her horse a beast of Tartarus. Squinting, she looked closely at the equine her sister had been riding. He was one of the more skittish creatures in the Antonis stables. If she couldn’t handle him, why had she not chosen a calmer one? “The fault rarely lies with the horse,” she murmured. “It lies with the rider.” She didn’t really care if Marietta heard her or not.
At least she asked Lady Sofia to let Hebe calm her horse. The other woman took her place, supporting Marietta. That was a relief. She had never realized how heavy her sister was until now. She was by no means overweight; she was just too big for an eleven-year-old to hold up. Sofia would be able to help her better. The horse was not difficult to calm and she smiled when its owner thanked her.
A sickening cracking sound caught her attention and she glanced toward the sea where several ships were locked in a strange and fearsome dance. They were breaking apart and sinking into the ocean. What of their crews, Hebe wondered? Would they drown or could they swim? If she was a mermaid, she would save them all and leave them on the beach. But she wasn’t a mermaid and there was nothing a small girl could do to help them.
While she was watching the macabre scene playing itself out before her eyes, the rest of the group had moved off. That man who had almost kidnapped Marietta was issuing orders that Hebe could hardly hear. That was just as well. She wouldn’t have obeyed him anyway. The young animal lover didn’t like him. He had completely abandoned the horses. Hebe heard her sister’s voice, but her words were lost by distance and the wind.
She brushed back the wet locks of hair that kept blowing in her face as she watched them go. Marietta was being taken care of, but the horses weren’t. That job fell to her. Gathering up the reins of Sofia’s horse, she led it over to the other two and swung herself into Whimsy’s saddle. Keeping the horses at a walk, she turned away from the beach and the crumbling ships and headed down the path that lead to the manor. Horses generally knew the way home, and she let Whimsy lead the way. During the journey, she had to stop a few times and calm the other two horses, but eventually she made it home. After handing all three soaked horses over to the stable attendants, she sneaked in through the servant’s entrance.
When she got to her room, leaving a trail of water in her wake, her handmaidens dried her off and untangled her hair. As a silky chiton was slipped over her head, she realized how exhausted she was. Hebe knew she should tell her parents what had happened and where Marietta was, but she could hardly keep her eyes open. Crawling into bed, she yawned and then fell fast asleep.
Hebe sighed as Marietta called her horse a beast of Tartarus. Squinting, she looked closely at the equine her sister had been riding. He was one of the more skittish creatures in the Antonis stables. If she couldn’t handle him, why had she not chosen a calmer one? “The fault rarely lies with the horse,” she murmured. “It lies with the rider.” She didn’t really care if Marietta heard her or not.
At least she asked Lady Sofia to let Hebe calm her horse. The other woman took her place, supporting Marietta. That was a relief. She had never realized how heavy her sister was until now. She was by no means overweight; she was just too big for an eleven-year-old to hold up. Sofia would be able to help her better. The horse was not difficult to calm and she smiled when its owner thanked her.
A sickening cracking sound caught her attention and she glanced toward the sea where several ships were locked in a strange and fearsome dance. They were breaking apart and sinking into the ocean. What of their crews, Hebe wondered? Would they drown or could they swim? If she was a mermaid, she would save them all and leave them on the beach. But she wasn’t a mermaid and there was nothing a small girl could do to help them.
While she was watching the macabre scene playing itself out before her eyes, the rest of the group had moved off. That man who had almost kidnapped Marietta was issuing orders that Hebe could hardly hear. That was just as well. She wouldn’t have obeyed him anyway. The young animal lover didn’t like him. He had completely abandoned the horses. Hebe heard her sister’s voice, but her words were lost by distance and the wind.
She brushed back the wet locks of hair that kept blowing in her face as she watched them go. Marietta was being taken care of, but the horses weren’t. That job fell to her. Gathering up the reins of Sofia’s horse, she led it over to the other two and swung herself into Whimsy’s saddle. Keeping the horses at a walk, she turned away from the beach and the crumbling ships and headed down the path that lead to the manor. Horses generally knew the way home, and she let Whimsy lead the way. During the journey, she had to stop a few times and calm the other two horses, but eventually she made it home. After handing all three soaked horses over to the stable attendants, she sneaked in through the servant’s entrance.
When she got to her room, leaving a trail of water in her wake, her handmaidens dried her off and untangled her hair. As a silky chiton was slipped over her head, she realized how exhausted she was. Hebe knew she should tell her parents what had happened and where Marietta was, but she could hardly keep her eyes open. Crawling into bed, she yawned and then fell fast asleep.