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Cyelena Zestia VanEeden-Lutcavage

"Useless device, it won't suffice; I want a new game to play."

0 · 150 views · located in Holdgrafer Estate

a character in “Eternally Missed”, as played by MagicalNeko

Description

Image

:c y e l e n a . z e s t i a . v a n E e d e n - l u t c a v a g e:

[Queen, Queenie]
[Twenty-seven]
[Male]
[Homosexual]
[Submissive]
[The Queen]

[Appearance]
Cyelena is obviously beautiful upon first glance, and almost deceivably feminine-looking, with soft features and an air of elegance about him. However, on closer inspection one might find the strong jaw and Adam's apple as the dead give-away. He keeps his firey hair long, usually loosely braided or left down because it's just too lovely to keep it tied back in a ponytail or a bun — those are for commoners, he would say, because they're so busy doing dirty work and they don't want to get their hair as dirty as their bodies. That's what he believes anyway. His eyes are dark brown pools of some strange seduction or ecstasy; whether he means that emotion to come through or not is completely unknown, though it's noted that he can appear more jovial or playful, though that's all dependant on knowing Cyelena and the way he plays his sides so well. He's amazing at keeping up appearances, and if people expect an amazing beauty for a Queen, he'll give them what they want — perhaps the only generosity he's capable of.

Standing at 5'7" with a perfect posture, Queenie is just above average height and rather muscular under his normal button-down shirt which betrays the whole femininity about him. He's more athletic than people give him credit for, and dresses very conservatively for the air of seduction that he seems to leak all over the place — probably just because he knew that at one time it would've been dangerous for him to let it all hang out the way he wanted, and even if it hardly matters anymore, he still wants to live in the fantasy of royalty.

[Personality]
Born to rule, Cyelena is the obvious tryrannical ruler with a vision; a goal-oriented psychopath, minus the genocides that can often come along with that. He's stuck up and egotistical, his head stuffed so far up his own ass that he would shame his own family name just because he wants something and he doesn't care about anyone but himself. Flippant, over-the-top Cyelena is often found planning parties that no one will ever again attend or bothering the butler, blaming all his woes on the poor man because there's nothing better to do; on occassion he demands his quiet time and curls up in front of the fire place with his Snuggie and a good book and no one will see him for hours. But that, of course, is very rare. He's definitely a man of sides, putting on the face of a Queen (because a King just isn't glamorous enough) almost automatically in front of strangers because he's been trained to keep up appearances. Besides that, acting this way keeps the fantasy alive in his mind, and he's able to cope with his new dystopian life through this.

He's not happy unless he's leading or directing someone, so it's not unusual for him to tell someone to do something even though he knows now that he had no authority to expect them to listen. He doesn't expect them to. He just wants to feel the power on his lips when he gives a command, revel in the tingling that rests just beyond his reach, and then settle back into being himself again, chattering away even though no one is listening. He can be rather vivacious when the moment takes him, uncomfortably close to anyone he deems worthy and demands they join his entourage because all Queens have one. It doesn't matter how unwilling a participant they are. And then, he usually gives up rather easily, finding things boring in comparison to how they once were; he just doesn't enjoy life the way he used to... he can't. His one true love was for the throne and now that that's gone... what does he have left?

[Bio]
Let's begin, most importantly, with me. My name is Queen Cyelena Zestia Van Eeden-Lutcavage, and I am the only male queen to ever be forcibly removed from the throne and replaced with someone outside my own family. Yes, I shamed my family that badly that society refused to make my younger brother King after I was unable to... ehem... removed... from rule. But still, I demand that those around me address me as Queen; that's what I am. Was. No. Am. I was born to the late King and Queen and trained in etiquette, in fencing, and in horseback riding among other things, as well as given the best classroom education of any other child in the country. I was groomed for my position on the throne, but alas things went awry much to early for my taste. I suppose there's no one to blame for that but myself.... At the same time it just isn't my fault that the people didn't share my ideals and visions. It isn't my fault that I wanted to adopt an heir instead of marrying a proper woman like I was expected, or that I was caught in the arms of the gardener and then let him be imprisoned for an alledged attempt on my life that never happened. No, none of that was because of me. It happened in regards to things I may or may not have had a hand in, but it wasn't because of me.

And when the people decided that everything most certainly was my fault... they overthrew me and put a young prince in my place, ostrasizing my scandalous son and I, running us as far as they could to rid themselves of us. And when I found Holdgrafer Estate.... I didn't want to stay, but there was little choice, and few enough people that... perhaps I could manipulate them into continuing to call me their Queen....

[Theme Song]
[Megalomania - Muse]
Paradise comes at a price
That I am not prepared to pay
What were we built for?
Could someone tell me please

The good news is, she can't have babies
And won't accept gifts from me
What are they for?
They'll just grow up, and break the laws you've loved

Take off your disguise
I know that underneath it's me

Useless device, it won't suffice
I want a new game to play
When I am gone
It won't be long, before I disturb you in the dark

Paradise comes at a price
That I am not prepared to pay
What were we built for?
Will someone tell me please

Take off your disguise
I know that underneath it's me

So begins...

Cyelena Zestia VanEeden-Lutcavage's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cyelena Zestia VanEeden-Lutcavage Character Portrait: Tinario D’Flavian Algresian

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He’d spent that whole hour there in that chair and hadn’t moved. One would think that when one were cold enough, they would move from their place to seek warmth; but Cyelena wasn’t one. Cyelena was a Queen. More technically he was a King, and a dethroned one at that, but Kings where always portrayed to be so thick and rigidly built wearing hideous furs with big round pot bellies. Queens were refined and beautiful, powerful in mind and presence, and Cyelena felt that this image suited him rather well. He felt regal and commanding. Or rather… he felt like he should’ve been. Actually, truth be told, he didn’t feel much of anything right now as the cold had numbed most of his important nerve endings in his body. The only thing he felt was the way the leather pulled at his skin when he tried to move, and he let an inaudible breath pass through his lips—because the sound of exasperation in a sigh is undignified, of course—knowing that he was going to have to move eventually. His eyes stayed locked onto the glowing coals and for a fleeting half-second he was cold enough to consider stoking the fire himself the way he’d always been excited for as a child, when his father finally taught him to build his own fires. Ah, there was a time when Cyelena was a normal little boy, but it was oh so long ago. Now he was a Queen and queens don’t stoke their own fires. He had a valet that had told him that once or twice before he got the idea.

His head tilted slightly in the direction of the painfully loud sound in such a long and empty silence and he recognized immediately that it was the doorknob turning, the latch being released from its hold and the door being pushed forward on its hinges. It must’ve been time for morning tea already; this was a routine Cyelena had been used to from the time he was sixteen and he didn’t plan on giving it up so easily. If he had not a butler or a valet at his side then it was Cargeus’ job though that didn’t always go over too well, but it was perfectly all right now because Tinario was the butler he needed to do the job. Only… Cyelena wished that he hadn’t had such a smart mouth on him. Otherwise he was a perfectly desirable employee for a queen’s services. He was capable, he was intelligent, and he was hard working. He was handsome. Pictures of Queen Cyelena’s court revealed his rather refined—or some would say shallow—taste for beautiful men, and some even featured his delinquent of a son, nearly an eyesore in comparison to the well-dressed and neatly groomed manservants, but Cyelena always kept him close in their photos; these were all on display on the mantle, along with a 12x9in of a much younger Cyelena sitting on his throne for the first time with the crown jewels in hand, an ornate silver tiara cresting his delicately styled up-do of fiery red hair, and a thick white shroud draped over his shoulders tied with a twisted gold cord. Most notable about the picture was his smile and bright eyes. Thinking about that always made him a little nostalgic—they’d told him to look serious, but he felt too much pride in his ascension to the throne straighten his face.

Voice was the next sound he heard, and it was almost taunting. Yes, Tinario definitely earned all the torment that Cyelena put him through, that was for sure, because for all that torture, Tinario gave it back just as hard. It was amusing to the former queen, actually. It was some of the only entertainment left for him as far as social interaction went. “And risk soiling the hands of royalty? Don’t make me laugh,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his eyes fall closed with his head held high, even if the tall back to the chair masked this action. The haughtiness was in his voice, which was surprisingly deeper than one would imagine just looking at him, but clear as crystal and soft, powerful, commanding, all at once. “You should know your place by now, Tinario. Bring me my tea and build my fire up; I won’t say it twice.” Of course, he was always on guard with the butler; he was never quite sure what was next going to come out of his mouth, and there was a sickening feeling attached to that. One of the last things left for Cyelena to feel, however… he’d not only grown used to it, but also rather looked forward to it in the morning. No one, in as long as he could remember, had ever denied him anything.