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Bowen Tane

"Yes, I am the king's brother - but that alone does not make me an excellent adviser."

0 · 140 views · located in Earth

a character in “Paranormal Lovers”, originally authored by Mela, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

The Lykae King's Adviser

Image

Nickname:
"A nickname? Well... I guess you can call me sexy, if you absolutely insist."... or Bowe, which is a bit more common

Age (Real Age):
30-35 (he's somewhere around 2500-3000, but he stopped counting after the first 1500 years)

Gender:
"Do you doubt my masquelinity? Well... I can prove to you that I am indeed very male, if you'd prefer." yeah, Bowe's male. You really don't want to assume otherwise if you value your life.

Looks (descriptive + must include height – anything not in, or not apparent in, the picture!)
Bowe's a pretty big guy, as is usual for the Lykae men. He stands at 6"3' with broad shoulders and a dominant, self-confident air about him, which often draws women to him - something he certainly doesn't mind. His eyes are a deep dark-brown and his hair as is pure black. His skin is tanned and his body quite well-muscled. He also has two tattoos (picture).

Occupation:
"I don't have an occupation... I have a goal." - He's very devoted when it comes to his position as the king's adviser.

Skills/Equipment
Bowe carries around a big battle-ax, when he's home. When he's around humans, though, he resorts to a gun - though he'd really rather take his ax. Bowe's a strong guy, though his brother is slightly stronger, who's had some serious training, due to an interest in this. It has improved his speed and agility (along with control of his temper), but on most occasions he will use his wits to win in stead of brute strength.

Personality/History:
As brother of the king, Bowe was pretty much a sure candidate for the post of adviser, though his brains and cunning wasn't exactly a minor part of it either. He loves his job, his country and his brother, but sometimes he'd rather just stay in bed with a woman. Actually... Bowe loves women. When he was 500, he made a goal to sleep with at least 20000 women... he sort of already achieved that and stopped counting when he did, which was about 400 years later. It would've been earlier, but he had things to do... being adviser and all. Damn duties. He only wants what's best for the country, and often saves lives of guards and servants when the king throws a fit about something or other. Of course, Bowen has a a vivid temper of his own, but due to training and out of pure necessity, he has learned to control it. You might say Bowe reinforced the bars of his beast-cage.

Bowen is often quite charming and flirty when it comes to girls, though more times than not, you will find the Lykae stoic and expressionless. He deals with practicalities and once he sets out on a mission, he will be adamant - stand in his way and die. But really, Bowen can be a big sweetheart! Or... not. He may hold family very dear, but he does not spend time bothering with friendships or relationships. He'd rather just have sex, do his job, and try to keep his older brother under some semblance of control.


Other:
- Not right now ^^

Post (this is merely an example of how you would act your character):

"I love the way you smell after sex, my lord" a husky voice sounded in his ear. The female Lykae in his arms was blonde, with a long, slender body and full lips. Her dark-grey eyes sought out his brown ones, but Bowen wasn't really interested, merely giving her a slight smile. She was nothing to him - only a maid who liked to spend time in his bed. His gaze was glued to the ceiling, watching the intricate carvings put there by his ancestors and preserved throughout the ages. He knew the words by memory, having read them time and time again - somehow it helped him think. He let his fingers caress the woman's back, running his hand up and down, from between her shoulder-blades to her bottom, though still not meeting her gaze. The soft, giving skin under his hands was warm and smooth, the woman a perfect goddess. But still... Bowen could not bring himself to care. Something else was on his mind.

His brother had thrown another tantrum this morning, killing two guards and an unknowing servant. His personal servant, in truth. No one was safe around the king, and it was becoming a problem. How would they get new guards, new soldiers... hell, even servants, if he kept right on killing everyone? It was frustrating sometimes, how he'd never made an effort to try and control that blasted temper of his. Bowen sighed, causing the female on his chest to cock her head slightly, looking up at him again, kissing his collarbone so lightly it was barely there. "My lord is troubled," she cooed, voice soft and soothing. He chuckled at the irony of a woman attempting to comfort a man. Especially a man of his position. He smoothly moved into a sitting position, taking his blonde along with him as he grabbed hold of her and put her in his lap, running a hand through her golden hair, softly nuzzling her neck.

"Don not fret, my love. It is naught but a little situation. One I will see solved." He told her, sounding a lot more confident than he actually was. Then, knowing that she would worry regardless, he decided to take her mind off of his thoughts and ran a hand slowly down her naked, curvy body before wrapping strong arms around her impeccable waist, "now, sweetheart... let's find something more amusing to do than talk." She grinned at him, easily distracted, exactly like he'd wanted her to be. Sometimes they were just too damned easy.

So begins...

Bowen Tane's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Sapphire Allyson Parker Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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#, as written by Mela
OOC: All the kings, along with their destined partners are out - somewhere they will meet eachother, but apart from the other couples. Staff can do whatever they want, except I will be setting some character-interaction into motion. Oh, and for the Vampire king: the guy stalking Sapphire is a vamp, so you should have no trouble getting rid of him, seeing as you're his king and all. xD
_______________

Sapphire

"Is he still staring at me like I'm on the menu for tonight?" Sapphire asked her friend, Gwen, making a face at the thought. The two of them had spent an hour or so at their favorite restaurant, having a late dinner like they often did. Now, they were taking a walk in the park nearby, casually strolling along the gravel path among the grass and trees. It was nice, except for the tall, dark-haired creep who'd been following them the entire time, staring at her like she stared at chocolate-cake and strawberries during her period. It was eerie. She felt confident though. No single guy would attack two women, so if he didn't leave soon, she would merely grab a cab when she left the club they were headed towards. And tomorrow, she would drive to the diner in which she would have brunch with her amazing sisters, Alara and Haven. The three of them had the exact same parents, yet Alara looked nothing like Haven and Sapphire. It was like she'd caught an entirely different gene-pool, really. A funny thing.

She looked up, gazing at the beautiful moon, having risen only hours before. It would be full in a couple of days, she could tell. Sapphire loved the night, much more than she did the day. Yes, it was colder, it was dark, the wind often picked up, and creepy guys like Mr. Stalker went boo, but she just... there was something about the otherworldly glow of the moon and the beautiful stars, winking at her like they were in on a secret she had yet to learn. She noticed Gwen glancing behind her to properly answer Saph's question and couldn't help smiling. Thank god for friends who looked at your stalkers for you so you wouldn't have to yourself.

"Yeah," Gwen then said apologetically, looking at Sapphire once more, "but he's further behind... maybe he'll lose interest by the time we reach the club?" A girl could hope, right? Unfortunately, however, Sapphire wasn't big on the hope-thing. You always ended up so damned disappointed and she hated that, even if she had no trouble disappointing her parents. She ran a hand through her red mane, blue eyes reverting to her friend, presenting her with a beautiful smile. "Doesn't matter either way. He's probably just some creep who likes to look at my ass," she said, laughing off the effects of goosebumps on her jacket-covered arms. No reason for Gwen to be all worried.


They reached the club not long after, both sighing happily to enter the warmth, the song "Titanium" blasting through the speakers. It wasn't exactly her favorite, but Gwen liked it here. Personally, Sapphire was more of a rock/alternative kind of gal, but none of her friends really were, so she dealt. The guy hadn't stopped following them, which made Sapphire want to stop and tell him to get lost. If he kept staring at the club too, she definitely would. Who the hell did he think he was to scare the crap out of her like that? She shook her head a little, shaking off her nerves, smiling at Gwen as the girl asked what drink Sapphire wanted. "Something strong," she merely replied, moving with her friend to find two seats in the bar. When they did, Sapphire sat down, pushing herself through the crowd and into the illuminating light of the overhead lamps in the bar. Gwen, moved around a little, catching the attention of the bartender. Sapphire barely noticed, though as she straightened her outfit (picture). She was busy scanning the club, hoping to find some male company that might just scare the other guy off.
_______________

Lena

Bees... busy little bees. That's what they were; all of the other maids and servants. She helped, of course, even though they didn't ask her to... they never would. It was the way of her world. No friendly words or kind pats on the shoulder. Nothing. She craved it, but she couldn't have it. Ever. The king had brought five of them along with him to earth, which was an unusually large party, when you added the 20 guards, including the captain. Then of course, the king's adviser, Yeremy - not a nice guy, even by demon standards. He, like the king, made an art of causing fear to beat through her along with irritation in Yeremy's case. She didn't know why he was so interested in causing her harm like that, but he was and it bugged her, though she'd never say anything. She never did. Once, she had spoken against a guard and he'd beaten her into within an inch of her life. Of course, the king had had him flogged for it - Lena had after all been unable to work for weeks - but she knew that given proper cause, anyone would do as that guard had did. Regardless of consequences... well, perhaps they'd make it more subtle to avoid death, but pain was pain, and she'd never complain to the king.

So yes, if her marks could not be seen, the king would not know from her. It was enough that she was a little, weak girl among big men and women, and she wouldn't make it worse by becoming the telltale they all thought she was. She might be sweet compared to all these brutes, but she had a mind of her own, and she would not let them be right on this one. She sighed, looking around the room of people who were ignoring her, then shook her head, smoothed her little dress over, pulled her cardigan closer and started walking up the stairs, towards the right wing where the king resided in this earth-mansion. It probably wouldn't be long until her master was home, and he so hated it when it wasn't newly cleaned. She had of course done the cleaning, but she had yet to change the sheets, which was now her goal. She preferred the castle back at home, honestly - many more places to hide and a lot more for Yeremy to do in stead of bothering her all the time.

... and speaking of the devil, there he was. Lena spun around on her heel the second she spotted the familiar fair skin and black hair. She quickly regretted the action though, knowing she had to finish her tasks, and taking a deep breath, she turned back, fixed her gaze on the ground and kept walking towards him. Right into the lion's den.
_______________

Bowen

Bowen Tane wasn't in a very patient mood right now. His brother was out, doing whatever the hell he wanted, because that's what a king did, and Bowe was left with his whelp of a servant, James. He had brought his own, of course... his little blonde. A girl who did little to hide the fact that she wanted him. It was pathetic, yes, and like all Lykae, Bowe loved the thrill of a hunt. However, sometimes he just didn't have the time to spend time on girls, and in those cases, Amy showed him a good time. He wasn't really a fan of foregoing sex, you see. The problem with James wasn't that Bowe had to take him as a servant - no, the problem was... that his dear brother wanted things done in a certain way, and Bowen was trying to make sure the pup survived his first 100 years in Narek's services. Something not many servants did.

"Scrub harder, boy." He ordered, calmly - not harsh, not rough, just expressionless as he watched James trying to wash blood out of the pristine wooden floors of Narek's private quarters. The king had had another one of his fits when a girl had forgotten to bring bacon with his breakfast. Lykaes, especially male ones, needed meat, and well... the king loved his food. Bowen leaned against the door-frame, big arms crossed over his broad torso, darkbrown eyes set on James. This was what his life had become. He... was a baby sitter. He should secure a teenage-girl for that... some human chick who might fit the little whelp - like in all the American movies.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sabine Marx Character Portrait: Haven Nadia Parker Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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James Dylor

"Yes Sir." Was James's prompt reply. His vocabulary had shrunken to those few phrases he needed to get by with minimum resistance. 'Yes sir, I will Sir, I'll try harder, Sir,' occasionally Sir was traded with M'lord, and sometimes My King, but really it was all the same. All the same work, on his knees with his shirt rolled up at the elbows scrubbing the floor as best he could. His hair was draped limply over his forehead and his lips were parted with exertion, his face a few shades paler and sweat beginning to bead on his skin from the sheer effort of trying to remove blood from wood. It was only just possible to do.

And of course, crouching on his knees with the scrub brush clamped in his fingers wasn't a very flattering position for the young halfer. He pressed all his weight onto the thing, trying with all his might to get the last of the ugly blood stain out of the wood. It was scary, because he knew if he didn't do a good job someone else would have to scrub his bloodstain out of some floor. If nothing else, James decided that he'd try and stand on another hardwood floor if that ever happened and save the poor soul who'd take his job the trouble it took to to clean a rug or carpet.

"I will try harder, M'lord." He tailed his previous comment with another of his automatic responses in his soft drone voice. He was a well-trained pup, polite and uncomplaining. If only that was all it took to do the job right. He'd much prefer to do a job without so much...physical labor. That only reminded him how much he was lacking in the strength and masculinity department. Perhaps the worst part was that he really couldn't get very well angry about it, because that section of his mind was mostly blocked off to him through his own practice. And his mother's teachings.

James shifted positions, continuing to scrub with his body splayed almost prostrate on the ground. His knees were beginning to ache, but he continued doggedly. The stain was beginning to slowly fade, and under his breath the male was murmuring numbers, counting backwards from two-thousand. It helped. He couldn't do it when the king was around, for obvious reasons, but now he figured that he was in the clear to murmur whatever he liked to keep himself going.





Sabine Marx


Sabine was sunning himself, to say the least. Stretching his legs in the human world, tasting the air he'd not breathed for a while. He didn't often visit this place unless he had some reason. This one was that the other two of the war triangle had wandered their ways here, so Sabine had decided that he must pursue them. Just in case any funny business was afoot. Sabine didn't find funny things very amusing. Mostly because they weren't. He wasn't above contemplating whether those two were plotting an alliance against him, and he was perfectly ready to account that possibility in any plan he made. Which including bringing a larger guard than normal. he was just being sensible, not paranoid. Obviously.

His wraith-like figure, easily royal looking, gracefully drifted along. He was going to find a place to sit and read in the sun. He'd needed to get away from the castle so the servants could put everything together without him tormenting them. It made them work faster when he wasn't around because they didn't have to avoid him, he knew. And he found it somewhat amusing that they feared him so.

He wasn't like the Lykae king. He didn't kill anyone. He didn't tolerate killing under his roof. aiming a bit, perhaps, but no killing. If it took longer than two months to recuperate it wasn't going to happen. His little tug-along Lena received worse from the Guard and the other servants than from him, he was aware, and perhaps that was why he toyed less with her in the physical pain sense than he did with most. Usually he didn't hesitate to give someone a good smack or toss them across the room, but with Lena, ah, she was one to play with verbally, really.

If it was anyone else one could say that the king doted on the servant, but as it was Sabine, perhaps it could be said that he found it not in his favor to hurt the girl as much. Or perhaps he really did dote on her in his own obscure way. There wasn't much of a way to tell though, so the matter was left well enough alone.

Sabine's demeanor, his regal bearing, and the aura that surrounded him made others leave a wide berth around him. When he arrived at his destination, a little park near the busy bit of this human nest, he closed his green eyes for a second before trying to decide where to sit. His spot of choice wasn't totally unoccupied. A little human woman was sitting there, but all the same the tall daemon strolled over and settled himself down. he looked at her for a moment and she looked back with wide eyes. Then she got up and moved somewhere else, her back crouched and her head ducked like he'd struck her. The ghost of a smirk flitted across his face, then he turned his platinum blonde head towards his book.

His back was still ram-rod straight, but his neck was bent downward. it was obvious that he was utterly absorbed in the thick novel in his hands. It was a human writing, Sabine enjoyed reading them when he had nothign better to do. The library at his earthly abode was stocked with them, he always read them when he was sunning himself.

It was War and Peace today, he was a quarter of the way through the book and deeply intrigued by the going-ons. These odd little Russian humans were rather fascinating in their mindless, short-lived ways. It was difficult to comprehend only living for less than a hundred years before dying, and Sabine enjoyed attempting to wrap his mind around it. It made him feel peacefully, he didn't have to worry about emoting, because this little world within the words was a different one, apart. It was safe, in a way.

Time passed swiftly for the engrossed Daemon, and soon enough the sun was beginning to set. He barely moved a muscle. He could head home now, but he was feeling pleasantly calm, at peace with himself. Like basking in the sun, he wanted to bask in that emotion. The quaint little park was the perfect place to do so. But ah, a slight twinge in his innards told him that he should be getting home, something was awry. Or at the very least there was someone to punish. He rose gracefully and scanned the park once before beginning to walk. He almost glowed in the shimmering light of the moon, it played against his pale skin and his light hair that was like liquid silver in the night. he spotted another figure moving through the night, but made no move towards it as it hurried to a tree. He merely paused to examine it for a few second before continuing his graceful glide.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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#, as written by Mela
Bowen

Bowe shook his head slightly at the boy's replies. How awful the life of a servant must be. They never spoke their minds out of fear and they had to do what they were told, no matter who gave the order. For they were lowest on the food-chain. Well, of course the king's personal servant was placed higher than most, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before he displeased the king and ended up dead. He decided to show the boy some kindness. After all, they weren't demons. Lykaes had hearts and warmth as oppose to those cold creatures. How they got by without feeling anything at all, or even showing the least of kindness, was beyond his comprehension.

Then he heard the boy starting to count, causing him to smile wryly. He knew he wasn't quite as terrifying in his demeanor as his beloved brother, which was why the whelp dared make sounds not asked of him. He didn't mind it at all, because Bowen, along with everyone who knew him, was very aware just how powerful a Lykae he really was. He had not fought the king since they were children, but if he did, he was pretty sure, that though his brother beat him in the strength-department, his speed, agility and training, along with the ability to keep his head cool, would make him no easy opponent. honestly, Bowe knew with himself that he would win. Not that he'd ever utter the words. They were outright treasonous indeed, but he considered it more of a silent brotherly competition in the corners of his mind. He would never investigate the issue, mainly because he loved his brother and country... but also, he wasn't really all that interested. He liked keeping some things to himself.

"It's looking good, pup. You may take a break when you're done; run down to the kitchen and get yourself some food," he said, then thinking of the boy's inevitable exhaustion this time of day, he added, "and once you've eaten, you can tell the cook that I gave permission for you to have a long bath this evening." The servants had tight schedules, so yes... bathing was limited to a ten-minute span, sometimes less. It was the cook's job to make sure no one took longer than necessary, but Bowe often found a little cruel. They worked hard after all, but he was aware that time was a thing they did not have much of, despite their immortality. He looked the whelp in front of him over, before focusing on the retracting bloodstain. He was a hard worker, Bowe would give him that. Despite being only half-Lykae and a little one at that, the boy in front of him had managed to reduce the bloodstain quicker than most Lykae servants. Or perhaps he merely feared more for his life... he was rather young.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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James Dylor

At first James made no response, he was at one thousand three hundred and two at this point. He merely continued to scrub the floor with the same intensity, as if he hadn't heard the other's words. The shrinking of the spot was slowing as it inched closer to it's core, were the blood was soaked deeper into the wood, and James had to press even harder to draw the stain out. It didn't leave much room for thought. His hair was sticking to his forehead, and he had to pause for a moment to drag his forearm across his sweaty face. Soon enough, thankfully, the spot was gone. Negative two hundred and eight. James's fingers ran across the now clean wood. They trembled slightly.

Having finished his job, the servant looked up at Bowen. Slowly he stood and retrieved his bucket, which was mostly empty now, then moved to leave. He paused before the other and bowed deeply. "You are kind, M'lord." He spoke in his soft voice. Then he was on his way. He supposed that he should be excited, but he was too tired to feel much of anything at the moment. The deep hollows under his eyes spoke of that. He hugged the bucket to his chest to keep his posture straight; he'd fall over like a sack of flour without its support. Life was so tiresome at times like these. He knew he should work harder, but there wasn't any physical way that he could. He was already stretching himself to his limit.

Working hard was a very compelling mode of action for two reasons. One, he would die if he didn't do his best, his best being exactly what the King thought it should be, whether he could achieve that standard or not, and Two, he was by nature a hard worker. There was perhaps something satisfying about finishing a job. He worked more diligently and more efficiently than many of the other servants, despite his weakness. It was sad really. But James never pondered on such things long, simply put, he didn't have very much time to think. Especially of late.

The boy put his cleaning supplies back where they belonged then wandered back to the kitchens to eat. James always ate with much gusto, something that truly marked him out as a lykae. He shoved food into his mouth quickly, his belly complaining about how distended it was becoming, James rarely ate a noon meal. Then it was off to take a bath. He explained to the cook, who responded skeptically, but believed the boy anyway.

James wasn't a liar.

Then James was nodding off in the water between cleaning his torso and washing his hair. It was difficult to stay conscious, it seemed.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Sapphire Allyson Parker Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane Character Portrait: Draketh Valhinsley
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#, as written by Mela
Sapphire


As the haunting man started walking to her, Sapphire dropped her finger and glanced around the room in an attempt to locate Gwen, but she couldn't. If she left me to go hump the bartender, without even getting me a damn drink, I'll kill her, she thought, before reverting her gaze to the man now by her side. Up close he became even more interesting, his eyes a cold, yet somehow warm grey, and his skin... she couldn't remember ever seeing that smooth skin on a man before. It was curious how her body instantly heated as he touched her. Sapphire didn't move as she usually did when some guy started touching her up like that, but rather watched him. Goosebumps started spreading where his hand left her skin to gently touch her hair before leaving her. Not the bad goosebumps, though. The good ones. Sapphire never got those anymore as excitement, true excitement, truly had been a no-show for years.

Then he spoke, voice deep, but melodic, like a tune drawing her closer; "What are you doing sitting here by yourself? Your beauty is powerful enough to attract some attention." She only just registered the words, but they drew her out of the haze she'd been in and looked him over again, wry smile on her lips, her right eyebrow slightly raised. She noticed how he was staring at her neck, which frankly unnerved her a little, so she brushed her hair in front of her shoulders in stead of behind them, covering the majority of her neck. She'd seen him ogling her body, which wasn't so surprising, but the neck-staring was weird... really weird. Normally they ogled her breasts, or her long legs or something else guys were usually attracted to, but neck? Oh god, if he was one of those wannabe vampire freaks, she'd die. He was the single most interesting this in this place, and she'd be damned if he was some kind of freak.

However, Sapphire brushed off her nerves. She had purposefully kept her face smiling wryly, not letting her nervousness show on the outside. She gave him a once over before slowly running her hands down her body to smooth her dress over. "Why, that's a bit cheesy, love. Is it not?" She asked, teasing note in her voice. "And I'm not by myself, unless you account yourself for nothing." She added and looked into his eyes once more. Sapphire on grey, and smiled at him, casually but somehow a little bit of amusement sneaked its way into it. Her eyes were vibrant, that glint of mischief still showing. She had trouble getting rid of that damn glint, in truth.

Bowen and Annabelle


Bowen heard the boy's words, but did not respond. In stead, he was occupied by thoughts as the whelp ran down to the kitchen. Bowe could not possibly keep this up - he had other things to do than make sure the king's servant did his job to satisfaction, but he knew no one else had the time either... unless. The thought jumped into Bowe's mind very suddenly and he mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it earlier. Belle, of course little Belle would be perfect for it. It would be something to occupy her, as her father had neglected to bring any womanly hobbies along for the 'ride' to earth. He knew the little blonde was bored, and he though maybe James needed to breathe too. He had been around big Lykae males for far too long and Bowe honestly wasn't all that great company. He straightened himself and started walking, heading towards the library, knowing that's where the girl would be hiding out. It was no grand library, as Lykaes didn't much deal in education, but there were enough books for Belle to enjoy... mostly because she and her father had brought a lot.

"Belle?" he spoke softly, entering the room. He could smell her flowery scent so he knew she was there somewhere. Big, curly blonde hair and a big smile made its appearance quickly as the girl... or woman, he supposed, walked out from behind a bookcase.

"Hello, Bowen." She said, and made a light curtsy to her prince. "What brings you here?" She asked, truly wondering. Bowen didn't waste his time, so if he came looking for her, it would be because he needed her for something, which she truly didn't mind. After the first week or so, she'd grown bored. Her father had told her that he wanted her to stay in the mansion until he was certain no vampires or demons were out to get her. Paranoid man, yes, but he was merely trying to protect her, so dutiful as always, Belle had stayed as requested.

Bowen spent no time exchanging courtesies, because frankly he found them useless, and he had a feeling the king was in trouble, so in stead of being formal with the tiny beauty, he merely smiled and told her what he wanted from her. It earned him a great smile and another curtsy as the girl thanked him. The he left to go hunt down his brother, a little annoyed that he brought so much attention to himself in the human world.

Belle watched Bowen leave the room. He'd been a little short with her, but she'd appreciated the task. Women very rarely got to do anything, and she was thankful for his trust in her. She was a little worried that the king would take any mistakes from the servant out on her too. What was his name again? James, she remembered. Bowe had only mentioned once, but he'd noted that it was a nice kid, and that she was not to mention her noble birth. She didn't know why, but she supposed it didn't much matter, as long as James got the job done. So Belle put her book back onto one of the many shelves in the little library that she now knew as well as her own room back home. She'd spent a lot of time her, in all honesty.

Belle then ran a hand through her hair and glanced around her. Goodbye library, she thought before walking to the kitchen. She shook her head slowly at the cook about to address her, then gave her a smile when she kept quiet. This was going to be hard work, she realized. But on the other hand, Bowe had only said for her not to mention her status, so she was somewhat in the clear, she supposed. She walked past the cook, through the kitchen and into a long hallway with 5 doors on either side, knowing exactly where the male servants' bathroom was, so she made her way there. Of course, she did not walk inside, but she stood still just outside the door, waiting patiently. That was something she knew how to do. As a woman in the Lykae-world, you keep quiet and wait for a man to either speak to you or take action. Simple really, but boring. However, in her 114 years of life, Annabelle had grown quite accustomed to the waiting. She held her hands in front of her, locked to eachother and stood straight. She sure hoped he wouldn't take too long.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Lena


She started walking just as Yeremy did, but she kept quiet like lways when someone else spoke. Every time he finished a sentence, she could sense he was not yet done, and so, she waited as was her custom. He had taken the knife from her, which relieved her quite a lot. Took the dilemma out of her hands, thankfully. Though some of his words, as she listened, eyes on him at all times, having no trouble walking without watching her steps, disturbed her. Mostly because they were... unexpected. This whole night had been so very unexpected. Gods, did she miss the king's company right now. Her blissfully simple king, who kept himself as sane as a demon could be, and didn't punch hole in everything she knew and was used to.

Lena wasn't very good with change; never had been, and this night with Yeremy had been nothing but. Her eyes narrowed slightly when he spoke of leaving. She might never have been his biggest fan, but leaving the king was treason. There were things to be expected of an adviser. Having been with the king for so long, Yeremy had information and knowledge about the kingdom and its ruler that should never get out of his head. This also meant that that specific post, just like that of personal servant, were life long commitments. To leave was punishable by death. That was what the law said, and she should know... she'd read every book she could get her hands on, when she had time. Knowledge like that was valuable, especially because she had no physical strength to brag about.

Lena sighed when she finally had the feeling that Yeremy was done talking, and looked around her, at the beautiful moon, the stars, the dark night lit by these, and then at Yeremy. He was so casual with her right now, she felt she should be with him too, but centuries of punishment for one wrong word, had branded the instinct of humble obedience and politeness into her. So instead, Lena kept the usual tone, though she attempted to stay honest. She truly was grateful that he'd try and help her. She was also grateful, though puzzled, that the man had told her he would never make her life hell again. This was altogether a weird conversation to have with Yeremy, but she saw something in him here, in this moment, that she didn't think she'd ever seen in a demon before... kindness. He was being kind to her. Her, of all people.

The king tolerated her, and he bordered on kind sometimes, but true kindness and a desire to make a amends... help her. It was surprising, and she didn't want to let it go. If this Yeremy disappeared, just when she'd met him, she was certain she'd break down. She has waited for so torturously long for just one demon to speak to her kindly, merely out of feeling like it, and here he was... doing just that. She knew it was selfish, but she couldn't just let him walk away. Not only because of the whole treason thing, but because she thought perhaps he was what she to stay sane herself.

"My lord is being kind," Lena said, letting whatever she was feeling show in her eyes... on her face. "But, I fear my lord is being rash. I beg you to reconsider your wish to leave his grace. My lord has been hiding many things, I can tell as much, but I must ask whether or not talking has helped. I have read it has such effects on many." Lena, though speaking, continued her walk with Yeremy, drawing a deep breath once she stopped talking. She had had a bit of trouble phrasing it without sounding like she knew better than him, or that she feared for him. She merely thought she... perhaps needed him. Maybe in time, she would be able to speak more freely too.


Bowen


Bowen had spent the last hour tracking his brother's scent, growing impatient and a bit more annoyed than he had been when he left the mansion, with the hopes that Belle would be good for James. When the trail led him straight to the police station, Bowen couldn't quite suppress the growl deep in this throat. It was a menacing sound, making a nearby couple scurry away from him. He had a predator's air about him, he knew. It was something only alpha males had, and Bowe definitely had Alpha-material, however... Narek was king, and though Bowe's instincts sometimes had him fucking frustrations out of his system, he accepted that. He didn't want to be king anyway; only his instincts did, and those... Bowe could not change. He was programmed a certain way.

Bowe straightened his casual suit, blazer open to reveal a white button-up shirt with two buttons open at the neck, and walked into the station. He wore no tie; he never did, but his attire was as always, collected and professional in the human world. He saw some lone guy at a desk, and took a deep breath, calming himself. If he was to get his brother out of yet another mess, it wouldn't do that he appeared just as menacing, so instead he calmly walked to the guy. The conversation was short. Bowen was told that his brother was with a lawyer, where-after he had calmly and perhaps with a bit of cold intimidation, informed the guy that he didn't much care for such practicalities, and that he had the power to put him out of a job if he didn't let him in, so... as they always did, the guy let him pass. There was no lie in the matter. Bowe had spent a lot of time in the human world. He was the reason they were all so well-off, and he had some serious contacts you did not want to mess with.

Bowe didn't spend unnecessary time talking to the officer, so he merely stalked to the room and walked straight inside, no knocking whatsoever. As he closed the door behind him, his gaze flickered from ravenhaired woman, to furious king. Great, so he's in a good mood then, Bowen thought ironically as he cleared his throat to make sure he had everyone's attention before he spoke, eyes on the lawyer. She was young for a lawyer. Most likely new, fresh out of college, he gathered.

"Hello," he said, presenting the woman with a big, calloused hand, "My name is Bowen Tane and I'm here to post bail for my brother there. Please, do not argue with me on this one. I have had a very long day, and I presume you'd rather go home than spend any unnecessary time here aswell." His words weren't hostile, nor were they friendly. They simply were, just like tone of voice and everything in his expression, but the usual vibe people got off of him, were intimidating enough as it was, to every human. He wasn't exactly trying to scare the woman, as she had yet to deny him anything, but he did make it his business to appear a professional business man, and he knew his Lykae-origin only added to that specific air of power successful men often had.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Alara


She gazed cooly at the intruder without any interest and looked him over. "I'm sorry. Narek's charges are too serious for me to let him out on bail. You can come visit him tomorrow." Her voice was pretty cold and unsympathetic like she had mastered it to be. He was dressed nicely, expensively and impressively. However... that would not work on her. She didn't like people that liked showing off their wealth. It was bothersome and annoying. "I apologize for causing you trouble, sir, but I'm afraid that he must stay here over night until the trial the next morning." Alara tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and checked her silver watch. It was getting late and she was becoming tired of this little... spat.

"I'm sure the little Lykae King can handle one night in a cell, I'm sure." She let herself say, leaving her tone biting and sarcastic as she wanted it to sound. No wonder Narek was so pompous. He obviously had money. Stupid rich jerks and their wealth.... Alara silently fumed as she waited for the man to move out of the door way so she could exit. Did she really look that young? Obviously if she let Narek leave, she'd be breaking the law and lose her credibility. Gosh. If she lost that so soon.... Alara would probably explode. As a new lawyer, she had only been assigned smaller, simpler tasks but she had won all of them. Alara had taken as many extra night and summer courses as she could, graduating two years earlier than she had even hoped. Sure, she was the little newbie but her rep was slowly and surely getting more and more impressive. How could she lose that after all the work she's put into it? She stifled a sigh. "I've had a long day, sir. So please don't argue with me." He better not try to bribe her... or she'd arrest him or something.


Yeremy


Yeremy tensed as he realized that Lena was walking along side him. She hadn't ever done that before. Lena would normally trail a few feet behind, her head lowered. That was the role of a servant. Honestly, she had it a bit better than most since the king had always been on her side. However, it had not stopped the guards from using her for their own pleasures. Yeremy was thankful that he had never touched her in that way. Or used her like that. He wasn't that much of a monster. And besides that, many human women were willing to spend the night with him. All he had to do was follow them to their house... He knew he was attractive and had used that to his advantage.

He turned to her as her soft voice spoke. Strange... she wanted him to stay. Yeremy had thought she would be ecstatic... The girl was certainly unpredictable. "I know it will most likely be determined as treason. But I'm a smart and clever man." He wasn't being conceited. It was a fact that most knew about him. "And I know the king better... better than he probably knows himself. It wouldn't be hard to hide from him." But wait... what if he was being too rash? Talking had actually started to make himself feel lighter. More healthy and not as burdened. The noises in his mind had quieted some too.

"But maybe you are right." He offered a small smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What would Sabine do without me here to advise him?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Uriel Maion Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker Character Portrait: Devyn Petrova Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Devyn


Devyn had been watching colour slowly return on Uriel’s face and couldn’t help a wry smile when he cupped her cheek and told her to be mad. Fortunately for him, she rarely got violent when she got mad, but it happened once in a while, and she had a feeling he wouldn’t think he very sexy after she ruined his beautifully sculptured face. He was, after all, nothing if not vain. She didn’t move her head from his grip, even though she found it slightly degrading, but she didn’t have to, because he removed it himself in no time. That was probably a pretty good idea; she was guessing Uriel wouldn’t take kindly to having his hand chopped off. She still had her chakram attached to her by her belt, even it if was disguised as a weird, black, round purse, and she wasn’t exactly afraid to use it.

Devyn laughed softly when Uriel asked her to get off. She knew perfectly well why he wanted her to move, because it wasn’t that he didn’t like her on his lap, but rather that he liked it a little too much. It was amusing and a little bit of a confidence boost. She knew Uriel was no newbie, and through the years he had to have been training his own endurance to all things sexual, so the fact that she got his reaction from him, even though she was pretty sure he didn’t want it right now, was oh so satisfactory. She still couldn’t resist the urge to play a little before she did as he’d asked her to, though. Honestly she was feeling herself grow just as lustful as Uriel, with the effects of the blood flowing through her veins, along with his naked torso, boner and intense eyes? Honestly, she was merely grateful her bra was hiding her attraction to him.

However, not one to just do as he said, Devyn flashed him a stunning, mischievous smile, “Now, what signals would that be?” she asked in a playful tone, her eyes flirtatious, and still showing that damn lust. Oh well, even though Devyn had a feeling her eyes were betraying her cool, it was just something she’d have to deal with. So she leaned closer to him, until her mouth was just by his ear and whispered huskily, “and what makes them so wrong?” Then, just for the hell of it, she pulled just a little on his lobe with her mouth before straightening herself to send him yet another of her little smile. Devyn stood, gracefully moving into an upright position right next to him, and rolled her shoulders, vigilant gaze still on the adviser.


Bowen


He sent his brother a look of annoyance, knowing the king would be aware that Bowen was not even remotely proud of him, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to look upon the lawyer once more, listening to her little speech.

Bowe couldn’t help but chuckle at the ravenhaired woman’s reply. She had spunk, he’d give her that. He could count the humans who’d ever stood up to him on one hand, and he admired humans who did. Not that it would do her much good. This wasn’t the first time Narek had gotten into trouble with the human laws and authorities, yet he had no record of any of these incidents. This was due solely to Bowe and his vast selection of ‘friends’, so if this young little thing thought she was getting anything out of her little display of hardheadedness, she was in for a surprise. Bowe would have Narek out in less than an hour nomatter what she did or said, though he had always preferred to keep things simple, and things would go much faster if she merely collaborated with him. He had a feeling she wouldn’t, though, which was greatly disappointing.

However, Bowen never left a discussion and he would make her witness Narek being let out against her will, because maybe it would teach her who she was dealing with. Every other lawyer and otherwise successful business man, knew who Bowen Tane was, so really, he was doing her a favor by letting her know already. Bowen sent the female a friendly, yet somewhat arrogant smile. “I’m going to keep this simple, as I do not intend, nor wish, to waste neither your time nor mine. Firstly, miss, I expect an introduction. I have been nothing if not polite with you, and you return it with rudeness and a deluded sense of power in this situation. Now, I’ll tell how this is going to go down. I will call the state’s attorney to come sort this all out, however, he will need someone to blame. Now, that… will be you, probably along with the nice little policeman out there. It has been the defense lawyer the last couple of times, so I suppose it will be again. Then any record of this little incident will disappear.”

Bowen knew his eyes were cold, even as his voice remained friendly. “I expect any lawyer to be somewhat clever, so I suspect you can figure out a way to let my brother go without this getting ugly.” He added for her benefit. He had a feeling she was one of those newbies who still had no clue how things worked around her; how dirty and crooked the system really was, as long as you had money and a couple of grimy little secrets to hold onto. Leverage was the way to go about things. Leverage was power.

Bowen then crossed his arms over his middle, leaning casually against the doorframe. He was not threatening her, but rather warning her. Personally he wished her no harm, but family was always on the top of a Lykae’s list, no matter how ignorant, stubborn and temperamental they were, so if taking her down was what he needed to do to keep Narek out of jail, then that’s what he’d do. He had many, many years on this girl, and he had used them very well. He had the majority of stocks in every single law-firm in the country and was also on the board, not that he showed very often. He was a busy man, after all, but he had quickly learned that to take care of Narek in the human world, he had needed to let his sense of honor go a little. Sometimes, to make sure family remained unharmed, one had to do regrettable things.



Lena


Once more, Lena listened silently, expressionless, eyes on her companion. However, the second she heard Yeremy cave in, her face lit up with a smile. She hadn’t really had her hopes up about convincing him of staying, but she’d succeeded, thankfully. Also, the smile he presented her was rare, not because of the fact that he was smiling in itself, but because it was real. She had seen Yeremy smiling many times, but not a sincere one like this. It was nice, even though it wasn’t a big, happy smile, because it hadn’t been put there due to her fear or anything like that, but rather… she thought he might be grateful of her, but she wasn’t sure. He was hard to read right now, though she supposed it didn’t much matter. As long as he stayed, there was lots of time to figure out what he thought and felt… hm, to feel. It was a verb often unknown to demons, though she suspected Yeremy was starting to experience in, maybe not in a human way, but in whatever way a demon could. Maybe that was his problem, really… that he couldn’t deal with it. But in that case, Lena really would be the only one who could help him. A strange thought, really. So strange in fact, that she wasn’t clear on what she really thought of it.

“That’s a point, my lord. Every great king needs an adviser.” She said, nodding just once before attempting to rub the cold out of her arms. It wasn’t exactly warm out this evening, and she was only wearing her cardigan. Demons were in no way immune to cold, and especially not half-demons like herself. She’d either been too scared or too preoccupied to really notice before, but the chilly air was taking its toll now that things were calming down. She did think it odd how Yeremy wasn’t surprised at her words. She had never really spoken much around him, and especially not in a way that would implicate that she actually had a brain. She was pretty good at playing the braindead servant, because it made things easier. People didn’t need more things to hate her for, and so, the king was the only one who even knew that Lena knew how to read, or that she actually loved it. Mostly because she liked to read in his chambers.

Lena didn’t say anymore. She didn’t need to right now. If Yeremy had questions or if he wanted to further converse with her, then she would speak. At this moment, there was nothing more for her to say. She had accomplished her goal; Yeremy was staying.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Alara


Wow. Alara was pissed. Who the hell did he think he was? Was money really everything in this world? Does this mean that she lost? Judging by the way he held himself... Bowen wasn't bluffing. "I'm Alara Parker," She said quietly. She had forgotten to introduce herself. That she would humbly apologize for. "As for Narek... I know I don't have much power behind me but I will do all that I can to see he gets what he deserves." Her dark eyes flashed with. "He did things that aren't acceptable. Just because you have money, it doesn't mean you can do what you please!" Alara glanced darkly at the man who had caused the whole mess to begin with. What a stuck up person.. If he really was a king, Alara sympathised with the people he ruled over.

"I'm sure you could ruin me with a single phone call..." Alara began and a little bubble of fear bloomed as she really thought of the consequences arguing with Bowen could make. Was Narek really worth it? Her career was on the line. It made her sick. It really did. People with power should use them for the good of everyone... not for their own interests and profit. "You know what? Just leave. Take the silly little king and get out of here." Alara was starting to feel angry and ashamed. "Jut don't let this happen again, you hear?" Alara snapped at Bowen. It wouldn't be hard to clean this all up as the two wanted her to. She had failed. Everything was going so well then this happened. She turned to the king. "I hope you learn to keep your temper in check."

Pigs. Disgusting little pigs. Alara pushed past the well dressed man and walked out the door. She didn't even speak to Norman who called after her. She felt like crap and was so disappointed in herself.


Yeremy


He merely nodded at her next words and continued to walk back to the castle. "I believe the king is back from his business. I suggest you go attend to him before he comes looking for you." Yeremy glanced at her through half closed eyes. "I'll have some words with the guards." It was the least he could do for her. He almost laughed. When had he started feeling bad for this little servant demon? She was a slave really. Not something a demon of his ranking should ever associate with as he was doing now. "Run along, Lena. I'll..." He paused, looking up at the darkening sky. "I'll see you later."

Yeremy lowered his head down to the ground as he walked in a different direction. Maybe he would spend the night out here. He did not want to go back to the castle. Yeremy wasn't sure if he could handle it. It was probably very cowardly of him but... Yeremy smiled. He didn't give a shit. Cowardly or no.. he did not want to lose his mind if he could help it. The human world was always pretty lively at night. It would do him some good to get away for a bit. Alara would probably still be working. She was nice to talk to. Not like Lena but just for some lighthearted conversations or debates. It seemed like a good idea.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Sabine Marx Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Annabelle


Belle was greatly occupied trying to find all the remedies she needed for the balm; busy feet moving from one place to the other, industrious hands opening one cupboard before the next, shuffling around a shelf too high up for her to see, opening drawers and checking labels. In the end, Belle had a number of ingredients on the kitchen-table in front of her, lined up, labels visible. She smiled to herself, satisfied that she’d located everything, and that there was actually enough to make a nice portion too. Seemed like this wouldn’t be the only time he’d need it. She had felt so bad, looking at those hands of his, and then glancing at her own spotless, soft palms she made a face. Life was unfair to some, and yet so fortunate to others. She had merely been lucky, where James hadn’t been. It wasn’t her fault, she knew that, but she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at her gentle, sheltered life.

As Belle’s mind quickly went over how to prepare each ingredient before finalizing an actual balm, she quickly got to work, that quilt still eating at her. Such a silly feeling really, but she couldn’t shake it, and she supposed it was alright. She was a woman after all, and women weren’t supposed to be tough. It didn’t take her long to crush herbs, mash leaves and press the juice out of fruits. Oranges to be exact. She couldn’t remember why the fruit was necessary… perhaps merely for the sake of scent, but she wouldn’t be one to discard it anyway. Taking out a bowl she’d noticed in a floor-level cupboard, Belle began mixing all of her ingredients in the exact order she’d been told to do it many years ago. True, it had been a while, as this was child’s teachings for a noble female, but it was like riding a bike, really. Once you learned, you simply never forgot.

She hadn’t even noticed that she’d started humming a lullaby-tune until she stopped whipping the thick, green substance into how it was supposed to look, and stopped to take a breath. Her arms were way to thin and feeble for her to be doing all that manual work, really. They were already aching from the whipping. Granted, the balm was thick, but she still felt pathetic. She felt satisfied with the look of things, though. It had the right substance, the right smell, and the right colour, so she’d be damned if she’d made it the wrong way. Grabbing the bandages she’d managed to find in a box on a top-shelf she’d barely been able to reach, she turned, smiling at the dakrhaired servant she’d decide to help. “You ought to take better care of yourself, you know,” she said, playfully scolding him a little.

Then she took the bowl of balm in her free hand and moved to sit down in front of him on the floor, put the things down beside her and smiled at him. “This should help, though,” she spoke, voice soft and friendly, eyes warm, as she gestured for him to put his hand in hers, “with all the scar-tissue too. I’m going to put this balm on your hands, and then put bandages around them, okay?” She explained it merely so she wouldn’t shock him with anything she did. He seemed a bit jumpy, even though he didn’t even know who she was. It made her wonder if maybe he suspected her status, or merely feared from everyone. If the latter was the case, then she truly felt bad for him. To live a life without trust or friendship? Yes, she knew he had to work hard to please the king, but had he really not a single person he could relax around? It saddened her.



Bowen


Bowe smiled at Alara as she told him her name, truly grateful that the woman had chosen to correct her mistake. He didn’t like cocky people – sure, he was an arrogant bastard at times himself, but that didn’t mean he liked to be. It was merely a matter of need for him, as oppose to Narek who couldn’t really help it. Their parents had spoiled him too much, so even when they were children, Narek had gotten everything. Truthfully it had initiating many of their childhood fights, as Bowen had not taken kindly to the fact that Narek got to just steal his toys. It was a long time ago, but as time had passed and Narek had become king, it’d only gotten worse. The was no changing the stubborn king. He was, and would always be, a spoiled brat, to put things mildly.

Other than the smile, Bowen kept his face plain and emotionless, listening to the woman. Disgust and annoyance pretty much flowed from her words, even as they somewhat polite… well, except for the taunting ‘little king’, which she’d used several times now. Fortunately for her, Bowen had no need to defend Narek’s honour in such things. If he had to be completely honest, he was grateful someone told him off for once. And so, he almost chuckled when she told him to learn to keep his temper in check. It was like right out of Bowen’s own mouth, and has his admiration and amusement grew with the woman, he almost felt bad for ‘warning’ her earlier, but soon beat the feeling down. He had a duty to his brother, and that was more important than anything. Especially some human woman, even though she truly was a tough one.

In all honesty, Bowen was glad he didn’t have to ruin her, as he let her pass him, because he had a feeling she would become truly great sometime. A part of him recognized the traits in her and knew she was a fighter. How amazing it would be if Narek fell for a girl like that; someone who wouldn’t just sit and take his crap, but rather tell him to shut up… that would probably cost her a head, but if that could be avoided, Bowe would be pretty content. Life was a constant battle at home, to everyone who spent time with the king… well, except for Bowen, who had the rare talent of being able to calm his brother… once in a while, anyway. When he heard the front-door shut behind Alara, he turned to Narek, frowning.

“Really? Again?” He sighed, “what was it this time then?” he asked, letting his irritation slip into his voice. He was literally the only person who got to speak to Narek that way, and that was only because 1; Narek knew that a fight between the two of them was evenly matched at best, and 2; they’d grown up together. He wasn’t used to respect and grovelling from Bowen, and even if he asked for it, Bowen would rather die. The only reason people hadn’t banded together and thrown him over, was Bowen, because he repeatedly reminded them of honour… oh, and because he practically ran the kingdom. Narek ate, threw fits, and caused Bowe even more work. Oh, the joys of life.



Lena


As she watched Yeremy walk away from her, she almost called out a thank-you, but kept her mouth shut. He hadn’t done anything for her yet, and she couldn’t really be sure he would. Technically, he could’ve just been humouring her this entire time. She wouldn’t know, would she? Lena sighed, pulling her thin cardigan closer as she walked the last couple of steps for the front-doors of her earthly home. Speculations regarding the puzzling man could wait. Right now, as he’d said, Lena should seek out the king, tend to his needs, if he had any, and if not, she’d grab a book and join him in his chambers. Relaxing sounded really good to her right now, even though she liked to busy herself with work, she frankly required a little break. After this whole deal with Yeremy, Lena could honestly say her mind had need of air, and at this point, work wouldn’t do the trick.

Lena entered the well-known abode, smiling softly as her flats hit floors, familiar clicks and clacks emanating with her feet hurrying up the broad stairs. She could tell her king was home from the eerie silence in the place. She wondered if he was in a bad mood perhaps, or if the others simply assumed that he was. Wouldn’t be the first time. Actually Sabine was often misinterpreted by servants, guards and so forth, as he was hard to read in truth, unless you’d been around him as much, and as closely, as Lena had. She felt gratitude that he’d chosen to include her in his life the way he had, and maybe also a little proud that it had been her, and not a real demon. She was pretty confident it was merely one of Sabine’s weird quirks though. Wouldn’t be the first he did something unexpected because he decided to change things up a bit. That was why people feared him… because they never knew what to expect from their cold king.

Before she got far, however, she was stopped by a guard who wanted her to deliver a message. Lena lowered her head the second he spoke, but listened closely. Male guards where cruel, cruel beings, and she’d much rather just run along and join the king, but her ears perked at the words ‘letter’ and ‘vampires’, so she stood still until the guard grabbed her arm and whispered a little promise in her ear. She winced, knowing what ‘let’s have fun’ meant in horny-guard, and decided in that second, that she’d spend the night on the floor with the king. She had to protect herself somehow, and she’d rather deal with a little pain in her back, than the guard’s hands and other parts on and in her. She was afraid the king would rather be alone this night, however, but as the guard left with a chuckle, goosebumps spread on Lena’s soft skin.

She ignored it and kept right on walked. Couldn’t let things like that affect her so much. Hell, she should be used to it by now. She’d rather they just did it though, no creepy warning or ‘promises’ to scare her half to death. Would be so much easier to deal with that way. She didn’t want to spend hours fearing that he body would be ravaged and broken in a little while.

As Lena came to a stop in front of Sabine’s door, she knocked softly, just once, before pushing down the handle to push the door open. She closed the door behind her, turned to her kind and curtsied politely, even though it was sort of hard in this dress. She ignored the cold still prominent in her arms and legs, and smiled at her king, brown eyes pleasant as always. “Welcome home, your grace.” Simple words, but they were as they should be. Lena didn’t talk more to Sabine unless he wanted her to. If her king desired conversation, she would do that, just like she’d keep quiet if he so preferred. Her life was uncomplicated, truthfully.

Except for Yeremy’s weird outbreak. She wondered if maybe she should inform the king that his trusted adviser was not quite right anymore, but she didn’t want to out Yeremy. Besides, he did his job as he should, and that was all she could ask of him, so Lena said nothing. If things got worse, Sabine was no fool and would figure it out himself, though she hoped she was able to help Yeremy before things got that bad. Thinking of Yeremy, she started wondering where he’d run off to.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Sabine Marx Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Annabelle


Belle smiled warmly at the slight man in front of her as he did as she’d requested. His hands were even more calloused and horny than she’d thought at first, but as he smiled and thanked her, things lit up. She had begun to think things a little useless; that with all the things having happened to this servant, she wouldn’t be able to soothe him at least a little. Soften his existence enough for him to at least feel a little joy from life. She couldn’t imagine why he’d wanted to stay alive so far. To her, he seemed weary of life, like it had taken all that it could from him and that all he had left was his ability to breathe. She could only hope that what little she could do would be enough, and this genuine, though little smile he sent her, infused her with hope. She would help him… she would, and she could. Stubbornness was a silly thing most times, but she thought sometimes that it was needed, so she’d never been ashamed of her nature. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, voice soft and gentle.

She held James’ hands gently, grateful that he kept them up a little by himself, because honestly her arms were still aching from the stirring, and his hands were about twice the size of hers or so. Granted, her hands were incredibly small, much like herself, but still. She used one hand to scoop up a nice portion of the balm, thinking that he’d need plenty going by the look of things. As she got to work, carefully rubbing the green substance into James’ right hand, focusing mostly on the worst areas, she noticed his entire stature relaxing some as his eyes closed, facial expression growing peaceful. It caused warmth to surge through her, and she felt her lips curve into a beautiful little smile, though her eyes fell back onto the work at hand. It was nice, she though as her fingers worked their subtle magic.

She could already feel James’ hands growing softer; not soft, but softer, which honestly didn’t take much, but it was a start. It was an effective healing balm, which was why it was so important to learn. If you had the time for it, it would mend any wound, scar or bruise; practical to have by your side in war, really. Perhaps James would need to have the balm applied more than once, due to the extent of his scars and patches, but that would be tomorrow’s problem. For James’ sake, Belle really hoped he didn’t have more work to do, as he so obviously needed sleep. In all honesty she was growing a little fearful that he would fall asleep as it was, because she wasn’t sure she’d want to wake him again. Not because she wished him harm, but because she could tell so easily that he needed every second of rest he could possibly acquire.

She’d find someone else to do the things not having to do directly with the king. There were other servants, and they didn’t sport even a fraction of the exhaustion James did. After a while, Belle finished rubbing the balm into James’ palm and began to slowly wind the white gauze around his hands, ensuring that the green lotion didn’t leave traces anywhere, while speeding up the healing. She only put a thin layer of bandages on the hand, as she still wanted him to be able to work. She would’ve preferred to wrap him in bandages until he couldn’t walk at all, because she was a little overly worried, even as she didn’t know him, but she was aware that he had a job to do. Besides… it was probably her neck on the line too here, even though she had a feeling Bowen would take steps to guarantee her safety.

After having repeated the same procedure with James’ left hand, carefully and intently executing her work, she smiled, satisfied. They looked good, his hands, and she couldn’t wait to see how they looked tomorrow, once he’d gotten to sleep with the balm, giving it proper time to work. Though she’d finished, however, Belle didn’t want to leave. She found she enjoyed the quiet presence of the boy, proving so different from the high nobles she usually surrounded herself with, so instead, Belle gently placed the darkhaired boys hands in his lap, smiling softly. “James,” she then began, a little careful, as she didn’t want to scare him away, yet found herself curious as to the life he lived, and the one he’d lived before this job came to consume it, “can I… ask you a question?” It felt a little odd, asking whether a servant anything. She wasn’t usually allowed much interaction with them, as it was ‘beneath her’. Belle was coming to regret that though.


Lena


As Sabine’s gaze fell on Lena, the little girl’s eyes couldn’t help but avoid his vigilant ones. Sometimes the king picked up on things she didn’t wish him to pick up on… like how she acted right after another rape, or how she spoke when most of her clothes-covered body was swollen with bruises. She probably had some tell-tale signs for him to notice, and after so many years she supposed it was only natural that he could read her just like she could him, but it didn’t make it any less uncomfortable, because he often demanded of her to know who had done it, but she hated telling him. She always told, because he was her king, and he held her unbending loyalty, but Lena knew she was making her situation with the others gradually worse, if possible, with everything the king found out.

As he spoke, she could tell by his voice that he wasn’t pleased. Okay, so she’d been right about judging the silence as a sign of the king’s unhappiness, the thing was, however, that she wasn’t quite sure whether he was angry with her, or with someone, maybe something, else. She could read his moods, yes, but never thoughts. Not ever. She was certain something was on Sabine’s mind, though, but decided she might inquire about that later. Right now, she had some explaining to do. She was the king’s servant. She was supposed to be home when he was, and she couldn’t tell how long he’d been at the mansion. Lena glanced back up at her master, just about to reply when he spoke once more, caring for her in whatever way Sabine knew how. She was also aware that he was indirectly telling her she was allowed to stay with him until he no longer required her presence.

She smiled softly at her king, though his eyes had once more reverted to the book in his hands. She still had to answer him though, even as he didn’t appear interested in her answer, Lena knew Sabine never asked anything he did not want the answer for. So she spoke, soft and gentle voice, soothing in its tone, as always when she was around her king. “Lord Yeremy required my presence outside for a short while, your grace. I greatly apologize for my absence.” Again, simple words, but the king would ask her more if needed, when she returned with a quilt and a book for herself. She curtsied, adding a soft, “I will take but short moments,” and hurried out the door, careful to not make sound as her feet quietly moved down the hall, seeking the well-known storage closet. She would have preferred the blankets in her room, but always did as the king asked of her.

She soundlessly moved to her room, close to Sabine’s bedroom, walked inside and located the book she was in the process of reading. She had taken an interest in human medicine lately. Not because she needed to know it for anything, but because she adored learning new things. The book was quite heavy, but that wasn’t an issue, to book in hand, quilt over her arm, Lena made her way back to the king, again a soft knock before entering. It let Sabine know it was her, as she knew he recognized her knocks, and was able to tell them from any others. She sat down next to the door, wrapping the quilt around her, not quite able to quench the soft moan of bliss from her lips, as warmth surrounded her. Her brown eyes found her king once more, golden flecks standing out in this particular light. She had placed the book in her lap and was now contemplating whether to wait for the king to speak, or to merely ask for permission immediately.

She did have that message for him… the one the guard had been too afraid of the king to deliver, so though it wasn’t all that urgent, she knew it was enough of a reason for her to speak up. “May I speak, your grace?” She asked the question casually, though still softly, but she never asked to speak unless she had a particular message for him. Besides… maybe it would make him forget all about that fact that his adviser had taken his servant outside in the night. She didn’t expect it to, but one could certainly hope.

Bowen


Bowe sighed, but didn’t speak as Narek’s words filled the room, after another violent fit, of course. Instead he followed his brother out of the police station, shaking his head slightly at him. Sometimes Bowen really felt like he needed a vacation. Narek was hard work; he really shouldn’t spend time in the human world, it was much too gentle for him. He couldn’t adjust, and even if he could, he certainly didn’t want to. He expected everyone here to just fall all over themselves for him, without him doing anything for it – just like back home. Narek had never had to work for anything in this entire life, which was a little scary, considering his quite substantial age, so he was used to just getting whatever he wanted and got angry whenever people didn’t bend to his will immediately. Really, Bowen sometimes wondered how Narek would’ve been under different circumstances.

After a little while of walked, the two brothers next to eachother, Bowen glanced at the sky before looking back on his brother. “You shouldn’t go out in public, you know. At some point I can’t keep you out of jail anymore, and then what will happen? We won’t have a king, and you know lykaes… we need a leader, or everything crumbles. Everything we’ve worked for in millenniums will go to waste. Either that, or you start taking in interest in learning to control your blasted temper. What do you expect people to do, when someone proclaims himself king of a species the human world believes belongs in books and TVs?” He was absolutely exhausted with his brother, if he had to be perfectly honest right now. He so needed to find himself a woman when they got home.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Sabine Marx Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Annabelle


The blonde girl smiled slightly at James’s reply. The fact that he’d said it the way he had, implied that he was beginning to feel more comfortable with her, yet she had not expected any rude words to come from his mouth. Or, well, not exactly rude, but he wasn’t being welcoming either, which made her want to go back to not asking him the question, but now that she had said A, she had to say B too. No way back. She was just about to ask her question when she spotted him beginning to fret about with his hands and paused to send him a slightly reprimanding, though lenient look, laughing softly. She didn’t mention it, though. If they were bothering him, that was that, nothing she could do about it. Wouldn’t keep her from trying again the next day, however. That was just the kind of person she was; helpful to the point of choking people. Well, sometimes… unless she didn’t like them of course.

“I was just wondering,” she started, glancing at the windows, noting the dark of the night, before she looked back at him, “do you ever wish that your life was different? Why did you come here in the first place, I mean… why did you take up service with the king? Everyone knows of his temper.” She almost kicked herself, bothered at the phrasings. She was supposed to seem his equal, not a peasant. She had been taught to speak proper and here she was, stuttering like some halfwit. She threw her annoyance to the back of her mind, however, knowing that it would not serve to let it show. Besides, it wasn’t James’ fault that she’d somehow begun to make knots with her tongue. Furthermore, she couldn’t really explain to him why she was aggravated without seeming like the noble snob she actually was. Eh, snob… such a terrible word, wasn’t it? Well, that was her. That was Annabelle of Quarth, the Captain’s youngest daughter, except she didn’t want to be that girl.

Belle smiled at James once more, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes this time; she was preoccupied by thoughts of the person she wanted to be, and the person she was supposed to be… along with who she really was. It was all one big mess to her, and sometimes she preferred to sit for hours by herself, pondering her life and her choices – whatever few she had. There were many problems associated with being who she was, so many things she had to live up to, yet she didn’t wish to compromise her own happiness in the process. A subtle balance, is what is was, and though she was over a century old, Belle still had quite the difficulties when it came to those things. How did humans ever manage to figure out their lives in such short spans?

The thing about James though, was that he inspired her in some ways, and in others she felt she had things to teach him. It seemed her had forgotten that there were joys to life. True, he had a sparse amount of freetime, but the fact of the matter was that work didn’t have to be such a bad thing, not really. It was like he’d… hidden parts of himself, leaving only a fairly empty shell. Belle wanted so badly to fill it again, to blow some semblance of a life back into him, or he’d end up killing himself by the end of his current century. No one could go through life like he did now. Maybe that was what worried Bowe too.



Lena


As the king’s green eyes found her once more, Lena’s innocent brown ones glanced at the door. She could vaguely hear steps in the hall, and no one entered the king’s wing without having business with said demon, so she had a feeling she would not have the chance to speak without anyone else in their presence. Though Sabine cared for her compared to how he treated everyone else, he still did not take any steps towards making her mentally comfortable. He very well knew that Lena hated to speak with him while others around, but he’d never cared about that, not that she was surprised. Sabine was who Sabine was and she’d never sought to picture him as anything else. She was merely grateful he did not take out his cruelty directly on her like many others did. Not physically anyway, and honestly he wasn’t that bad with her mentally either. She liked to think he didn’t want her changed or more broken that she already was.

Lena had, in fact, had a little more voice when she’d first arrived at the castle, not as Sabine’s personal servant of course, but a meager little girl who did the dishes. Then her virginity had been robbed from her and she’d had to get past that, not able to speak of it. It had taken its toll, forced her to harden herself, as much as the soft, darkhaired girl could. Ever since, Lena had been quiet, a little mouse in the shadows, cowing at every turn. Well, until the king had taken an interest in her. At first she had been afraid that he would take her to his bed, as so many had, but Sabine had never made such moves, which in itself was a gift. Actually, Lena couldn’t remember the last time the king had taken any woman, in truth. She knew he much preferred quiet and books – mental exercises, a lot like her, she thought. Maybe that was why he accepted her so, but she could only guess.

She soon found that she had been right about the steps headed towards the king’s chambers, because just as Sabine’s voice formed words allowing her to speak, knocking sounded at the door. The little servant sighed softly to hear Yeremy’s voice follow the sound. She had seen enough of him tonight, and would much rather have a bit of quiet to gather herself and piece the little puzzles together. Maybe they’d make up a pretty picture then, but she doubted it. Lene glanced at Sabine, awaiting his next words. She assumed he would let her speak before Yeremy, even though Yeremy was technically higher than her in rank. She had never understood why he did that – maybe merely to banter Yeremy a little, get a reaction from him. Whatever the reason, it should not be so according to every book she’d ever read on etiquette, but hey, who was she to correct the king?

The king made a gesture towards her, silently commanding her to wait, which she would have done automatically. She had been around Sabine too long for her not to know what to do in certain situations. She assumed he knew that, but merely wanted to make sure… or maybe he hadn’t really thought of to whom he was giving orders. The other servants had no feelings for situations like so, she knew. Perhaps she had been away from him for too long and he’d had to grow annoyed with someone else? She supposed it mattered little though. Lena then watched Yeremy open the door, handsome face peering inside after Sabine had given permission. No other than her was allowed to step in without one – a privilege she adored. She smiled vaguely to have her suspicions confirmed, the familiar green eyes landing on her once more as Sabine informed them both that Lena was to speak first.

He had used the usual nickname for her, little bird. She had never quite figured out whether it was an endearment or a degrading statement. Perhaps both. It would be like Sabine to have several motives even for the little things he said and did. Curious creature he was indeed. She didn’t think she’d ever grow bored trying to figure out why he did as he did. She pulled her quilt closer, brown eyes flickering across Yeremy’s face before ending up looking into her master’s green ones, a slight smile adorning her features. “A note came from a spy about an hour ago. Of course your grace should have been informed of this sooner, and I apologize for not being here to bring it to you.” She said, well-knowing of the fact that bringing messages wasn’t her job. It was something she did as a favor to the others (even though they didn’t deserve it) as they were so frightened of the great king. In truth, it should be brought by a guard or another servant, if she was not available.

Apparently they’d chosen to wait instead, which she honestly thought a tad foolhardy. Lena always took the blame, though – or attempted to. The king had this awful tendency to know when she was merely playing sacrificial lamb… again. She offered yet another slight smile, and then continued, “however, I assure you the message is of no hasty quality tonight.” She glanced at the door, wishing Yeremy would leave again. He might feel comfortable enough talking freely with her, but she did not with him. A soft sigh escaped her full lips as her gaze ones more found the king.

“Apparently high born women of the vampire king’s court have begun to disappear. This evening a letter arrived at his castle in Cruorem Orbis, stating that you, your grace, was the abductor in an attempt to turn the males of the court against him. However, the vampire king will not return home until morning, as is their custom, and neither will his adviser, so naught will be done about it until then as none of them are aware of the letter’s existence as of yet.” A lot of words, yes, and she really did despise having to say them with Yeremy there. Around everyone but the king, Lena was cautious and spoke very little. She thought about the situation, though, aware that it was not the first time a thing like that had happened; little ‘misunderstandings’ leading to war. Someone was playing a clever game, but no one could figure out who.

Playing on the women was the right move with vampires; there, women were cherished and valued. The men loved their women, much more passionately than human were able. It was a shame demons did not posses such strong emotions. It would’ve been nice. The issue was that though everyone was aware of the games, no one was willing to talk things out. Every race hated the two others with a passion unmatched, and creatures such as Lykaes had this thing where they just rushed off into war and violence – probably had something to do with their impulsive king, Narek Tane. She’d heard that his brother and adviser, Bowen Tane, should have a clever mind though, but rumors were but rumors, and they were so rarely true.



Bowen


The Lykae adviser remained expressionless as he listened to his brother, growing aggravated as well as quite weary. The king, no matter what Bowen said or did, would not see reason. Thankfully, he was able to grasp the fact that him going around hurting innocent was bad here and was agreeing to cut down, but he was still being stubborn. Avenge him, would they? Break out of jail, would he? Well that was just great, except they risked discovery! But what could Bowen do? He had tried so many times to talk sense into his brother’s thick skull, but was unable to break though. If this kept up for many more centuries, Bowen was sure he would give up. But then again, after about 3000 years with this one, who wouldn’t? Bowen had the faint idea of strangling his dear brother, just to shut him up… keep the stubborn, proud words from exiting his mouth, but pushed it away again.

One more time…

“Narek,” Bowen said, sending his brother a ‘what the hell is wrong with you’ look reserved only for him, “what do you think will happen if you break out of jail, or if a horde of maddened Lykaes burst into the city, tearing everything, and everyone apart? Did you ever stop to think that we might have a problem staying on earth if you out us? We need earth, you know. We need a safeplace. Going here is like going on vacation from the war. This is the only place we can talk business, whenever the other races are compliable as well. Another thing; I did not say that it was unwise for you to enter the human world, merely for you to go out. Alcohol goes in and whatever little pieces of brain you have, go numb.” He was being harsh, yes, and he only said the words because no one else of their kin was near. Narek’s pride would not be able to take it if someone heard him being scolded by his little brother.

“And I don’t want to ‘stop you from being king’, Narek. I want you to act as the king you supposedly are instead of a spoiled teenager. Those years are long gone, brother. You have an entire race of people to take care of. You have to protect them, and not merely care whether or not some human says boo at the wrong time. They are unimportant; cattle, prey to vampires, they’re expendable. Their opinions and actions hold no meaning, but yours do, and I want you to stop and think about that before you decide to tear someone’s throat out next time.” He was ranting, but it felt good, even as fatigue and resigned indifference settled over his features, “ah… why the hell am I even trying?” he finished, “it won’t help any.”

And with those words, the two royalties had reached their human mansion. Bowen cast his brother a dark look before opening the door and walking inside. He did not care to hold the door for his brother – Bowen was no servant and after this night, Narek deserved to do something by himself instead of having everyone else do his dirty work all the time.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sabine Marx Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Haven Nadia Parker Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Sapphire Allyson Parker Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Bowen

Currently, Bowen was in his study, his brows furrowed, drawn tight in thought as he, seated in his big leather chair, had his head bent over a pile of papers, deeply focused on the task at hand. As any good adviser to an almost rapid king would, Bowen had always had spies keeping an eye on his brother for him at all times. Narrow-minded Narek would never even think about it, so it hadn’t been a problem so far. His brother only saw down his own nose. He didn’t look behind him, or to the sides, unless he was in an actual battle situation, but out and about his guard was usually down because he believed himself to arrogantly superior to any other. What he was forgetting, was that though earth was a safe place for them to be, there were other threats than what was physical. After having discovered Narek’s almost obsessive behaviour in keeping track of the ravenhaired lawyer, Alara Parker, Bowen had dug deeper.

And what had he discovered? Yeremy Markovitch was what. The woman god damned worked with the cunning demon adviser. If there was one thing Bowen despised, it was demons. Demons and their fucking cold indifference towards even their own kin. They enjoyed violence for the sadistic pleasure in executing it, and they probably the least honourable creatures Bowen had ever encountered. Now, of course, he was far from a fan of vampires who used innocents as food, and the vampire king, vilest of all, took women to his bed only to kill them in the same bout. Disgusting. All of them. His nose wrinkled up in distaste. What did this connection between the human and the demon adviser mean? Bowen and his people had followed this thread, and looking at Alara’s list of phone calls, she had called a number registered to a Yeremy Markovitch the same day Bowen had pressured her into finding a way to get Narek off the hook… again.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The female’s presence was apparently calming to his brother because the fact that he had become much easier to deal with the past week, was commonly known, but why? And how? Magic? No, humans didn’t possess even the slightest traces of magic abilities, unless she had paranormal blood in her family? No, couldn’t be. He hadn’t sensed anything like that on her. She has smelt human to him, aside from the slight traces of something else. The ‘else’, he now knew what… or who, was, but he didn’t feel satisfied yet. He didn’t have all the pieces of this puzzle. The whole situation was making him uneasy because his instinct told him something big was brewing, but he didn’t know what, only that these things had to be connected. He briefly wondered at the redhead his spies had spotted the vampire king with, and the blonde a spy had caught glimpses off with the demon king. Blonde, Redhead, Ravenhaired. What was he missing? It was buried in the back of his mind, but he knew these things were connected.

He scratched his cheek, shaking his head slowly. He needed a distraction from this to clear his mind. Where was Amy? The blonde was usually around him, ready to please and get pleasure in return. She wasn’t a whore, but nor was she a servant as such. Amy was more of an infatuated teenage girl who would do anything for the man she loved, so Bowen had brought her along to earth. She was a full-blooded Lykae, and she had thrown a fit when she’d thought he was leaving their world without her. She didn’t expect him to be faithful, merely that he gave her his attention once in a while. A fair deal, if you asked him. As far as anyone else knew, Amy was a servant. Bowen’s personal servant. A station that gave her a certain kind of immunity among the others. Everyone knew Bowe took good care of his servants, as oppose to Narek to who had to replace his quite often because their blood had begun staining the floor. Amy was not to messed with, not even by Narek. Sure, if Narek wanted Amy dead, Amy would die, but then he’d really have to consider whether he wanted to get on the bad side of his adviser. True, Bowen was loyal to his king and brother. Very much so, but there were lines you didn’t cross with Bowen, and Narek knew him well enough to be aware of them.

Just as he got out of his chair, Narek’s voice echoed through the house and Bowe frowned once more. Well, there went his break. Now he had to try and avoid a complete disaster. Narek was back as… well, Narek. He could tell merely by the tone of voice his brother sported. Wonderful, the adviser thought sarcastically, stretching before walking out of his study and taking his good time to reach the grand dining hall. What was Narek going to do, anyway? Kill his brother? Not very likely. Unless Bowen actually committed a serious crime, in some way betraying the throne, Narek, according to Lykae customs, would never be able to justify killing a member of his family. Of course, there was the fact that his brother, despite his arrogance, had to realize that he needed Bowen. Narek would literally be lost if not for Bowen. Would’ve probably lost the long war. Why? Because brute strength wasn’t enough to keep up with Vampires and Demons. Wits were more than just necessary. They were vital, and Narek was obviously unable to access his.

As he walked to the dining hall casually, he saw servants tripping over themselves to get there as fast as possible and he barely stifled a laugh. Not that their quite possible deaths were funny, but more that there was a sort of ironic humour in the fact that they came running like obedient little puppies when their master called. It was such a fitting image. The halls were deserted by the time Narek’s voice began drifting through the house again, and Bowe made a face. Fucking great. He could feel his own temper flaring. Bowen was reaching his limit of patience with his brother. There had actually been improvement, and now they were right back to square one. He felt like bellowing with rage, but kept an unsteady lid on it. No matter what, Bowen would never speak against the king in the presence of staff. That was simply out of bounds in every way, but damn, was he tempted. So fucking tempted. He closed his eyes for the fraction of a second, trying for his last slivers of patience. Sometimes he really, really missed he and Narek’s father. Rydstrom Tane had been an excellent king. He had been the perfect mix between Narek and Bowen.

Once Bowen reached the dining hall, he merely leaned his large body against the frame of the entrance, his unreadable gaze locked on Narek instantly, a disapproving air emanating from him despite his lack of actual expression. No one but Narek, and maybe Amy, would notice it. He spotted his blonde in the line of servants and almost growled then and there. Would have, if it hadn’t been for the handle he maintained on his temper. The smell of fear was permeating the room and his senses. He could easily make out Amy’s, too. She was trembling slightly, her heavenly, smooth skin pale, blue eyes wide in fright. Right in that moment, he wanted to attack his brother. He had never outright wanted to do that, but Amy spurred his strongest instinct; to protect his woman. Wait… his woman? Well, she was, he supposed, but they weren’t actually in a relationship. After all, she was of lowly birth, and would never be acceptable for him to be with. But then, why did the thought of her with another man, make his body tense, ready for a fight? If Narek so much as touched Amy, Bowen feared he would no longer be able to control himself and that shook him to the core.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed the captain of the guard with his daughter. They stood a little off to the side, but the captain's chin was up, his strong body proud, shoulders back. Belle was looking slightly pale, her gaze flickering over the selection of servants as she clutched her father tight, probably searching protection. Clever move. The captain was a respected man, and he didn't make mistakes. Narek would be a downright fucking ignorant moron if he engaged him, because he would lose one excellent man in his army. A man who had killed more demons and vampires than Bowen could count. A man who made Bowen proud to be a Lykae. A man who reminded him of their father. His daughter, on the other hand, was more of a wallflower than she should be. Bowen could sense her worry so clearly mixing with her fear.

She had come to care for the king's servant, James, and Bowen couldn't help ponder what complications that would provide. He was certain her father definitely wasn't going to approve. Besides, James was doomed from the second he became a servant at the castle, and only more so once he became the king's person one. Which was probably where Belle's worry stemmed from. All the while, regarding the two, Bowen had kept an eye on his Amy, and his brother as well. Multitasking at its best. He didn't trust his situation at all, and his muscled were tensed, ready for a fight. For both his and Narek's sake, he really hoped the king wouldn't even utter a direct threat to the woman, because Bowen has on edge, and anything could set him off right now.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lena of Anguaren Character Portrait: Sabine Marx Character Portrait: Yeremy Markovich Character Portrait: Haven Nadia Parker Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Lena

Lena gave a weak nod when Yeremy told her where Sabine was. She personally had no idea how much time had passed since she’d gone to see the king, but if Haven was to be awake, she was guessing about half an hour or so, judging by the dose Merry had given the freckled blonde. Or, judging by what Lena’s foggy vision had evaluated the dose to be. She really couldn’t be all that certain, so her sense of time all in all was a little messed up, and this room didn’t have an any clocks, making it all the more difficult. She didn’t even have the sun to go on. She supposed it didn’t really matter right now, anyway – it wasn’t like she was capable of doing much. She didn’t like lying here, though. This inactivity was making her feel lazy and well, like the weak Halfling she truly was. Something she strove to prove that she wasn’t. Well, not as much as others anyway. Lena didn’t appear strong on the outside, but she had an inner strength most didn’t, and she a strong will. Plus, lying here, she didn’t have anything to distract her mind from the horrid memories.

A book would be nice, for when Yeremy left, anyway, and she had no idea how long he felt like staying with her. It was probably just the guilt that made him stay either way, and that wouldn’t last forever. Then he leaned in, and Lena’s eyes widened slightly in response. What was he doing? Her gaze fell to his lips as they curved into a sly smile even as his words surprised her. Was he wanting to… lead a conversation with her? She searched his face for any clues to figuring out what was going on in his head. Sometimes the adviser was extremely difficult to read, and today was a rollercoaster of new impressions, making it all the harder. Unsure of what to do, Lena nodded thoughtfully, and a little hesitantly. “His majesty has been very… preoccupied the last week’s time, my lord,” she told the adviser, looking up at him pensively. Yeremy hadn’t been around much in said time, so he probably wouldn’t have noticed the change in Sabine.

“And…” she then continued, glancing at the door connecting Merry’s and this one, “I do not feel certain whether she is the cause or the result.” Huh… talking was nice. Weird. She hardly cared for conversations. Even with Sabine, Lena wasn’t one to talk much. Of course, maybe that was due to the fact that she needed to ask for permission first with the king, but still. She supposed part of her was expecting Yeremy to reprimand her for speaking without permission, and it made her watch him all the more attentively, awaiting his response to her slight breach of etiquette. Sure, Lena held onto etiquette more than most, but Yeremy was much higher ranking than herself, and that demanded a certain show of respect. Still, Lena felt like she could let go a little when she was alone with Yeremy. That didn’t mean she was right to, though, and so she anxiously awaited his reaction.

When Yeremy offered to get her whatever she might need, she couldn’t help sending him a warm, thankful smile, even as she shook her head. The smile quickly faded, though, as her mind told her he only offered so that he could leave in a manner that would not be rude or make him feel more guilty. She dropped her gaze to his feet on the ground, taking a deep breath before she tenderly said, “do you wish to leave, my lord?” Even to Lena, the question sounded desperate and pathetic, needy and weak. She might as well have begged “please don’t leave me,” which was really what she felt like. She didn’t really want to outwardly show it, though, but it appeared she wasn’t to have any control over herself today, and it bothered her a little, because for some reason, she kept waiting for him to laugh at her for being easy and gullible, but she couldn’t help it. She sensed change – the good kind, and she grasped at whatever part of it she could, desperate not to lose it. Taking it away from her now, would be like putting food in front of a starving child and then… removing it. She didn’t think her heart would be able to take it.




Annabelle & Bowen

Belle couldn’t remember the last time the king had scared her this much, and that was even in spite of the fact that she was with her father who would no doubt be a very capable opponent to the king, but then… it wasn’t herself she feared for. It was James, and her father wasn’t exactly going to defend her friend… if he was even still that. Gods, she hoped so. Because she would never stop caring about him. She knew that much; James was the only real friend she’d ever had outside of family. And James didn’t even have that. She couldn’t imagine the amount of betrayal he felt. She’d spent hours searching for him, but he hadn’t come out from wherever he’d been hiding, hadn’t called back to her, and in spite of the fact that she understood him, it still hurt so much. Even if she was truly the one at fault. Gods, when had she started caring what a lowly servant thought of her? She clutched her father closer as she watched the king pace, his words like daggers to her heart.

No matter when it had been, she cared a whole lot. Belle knew James was especially dear to her, even after only this short period of time, and her heart was pounding faster, her blood coursing through her body at an alarming pace, the rush of it nearly deafening her. She didn’t even notice Bowen showing up during the speech, despite her keen senses. Her father had a firm grip on her, keeping her with him. She thought he could sense her distress and was trying to keep her from getting involved, but she didn’t care. She’d claw her way free if she had to, she wasn’t letting anything happen to James. She had betrayed him enough already, and she’d be there if he needed her, even though she knew he’d never ask for her help. After the king’s last words silence descending upon the room and Belle unconsciously held her breath in dread. There was something in James’ eyes she hadn’t seen before and it worried her. He wasn’t keeping his head down any longer… and then he stepped forward. She didn’t even notice her own gasp of surprise.

Bowen raised both his eyebrows when James stepped forward, his two words ringing out in the deafening silence. That was… unexpected to say the least, and unfortunately, the pup wouldn’t live through it. Bowe, as oppose to his brother, actually admired the kid’s guts, and more than that, he was glad attention had been taken from his Amy and he caught her beautiful eyes for a brief moment, silently letting her know he’d take care of her and she visibly relaxed, which stroked his ego quite a bit. Protection was second nature to, discounting his brother apparently, all Lykae, and Amy was a treasured possession. Now, wondering, Bowe’s gaze moved to James and then to Belle. At that, his eyes narrowed. The girl looked ready to do whatever she deemed necessary right now, and that worried him. She was still just a pup, only about a century old, and frail for a Lykae. She could take a lot more than a Halfling like James, but that didn’t mean she was even close to matching any of the other full-blooded Lykaes in the room, even his Amy.

Then James’ words continued and Bowen’s vigilant gaze rested on the male pup once more, quickly realizing something. The kid did truly have a death wish. What the hell had happened? James had always had a stubborn will, fighting to stay alive at every turn, and now, after all his initial struggles, he was willing to die? Why? He didn’t miss the fact that James had been avoiding looking at Belle, and that’s when it hit… the captain was back. Of course. James knew about Belle. Hm, well that sure did make things a tad more complicated, didn’t it? Now James’ death would hurt Belle, and Bowe quite liked the little blonde. He scratched his stubbled cheek in thought briefly, contemplating the situation. He couldn’t do much for James at this point. The kid had dug his own grave and was merely waiting for Narek to shove him into it.


Belle knew what was coming by the end of James’ final sentence, and her body tensed, her heart feeling the pang already. She knew what this day was; the day of James’ death. Narek wasn’t going to let this slide. He wasn’t in the habit of letting anything slide, and especially not outright disobedience. She could hardly breathe, was heaving for air in a pace much too fast. The captain tightened his grip on her slight form. How easily he read her. It didn’t matter though, because the second Narek began speaking, her breath hitched and she knew she couldn’t watch him kill her only friend. She’d rather die herself, despite the fact that James had caused this himself. It didn’t matter, because she had pushed him out there. She knew she had. It was all her damned fault for not explaining everything to him sooner. She took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself, but it wasn’t helping. She felt tears pressing at the corners of her eyes and was silently sobbing, her body reacting as if she was actually crying.

Soon, the king’s hand was moved and she distantly heard herself screaming, “NO!!” while she, with strength she didn’t know she had, flung herself from her unexpecting father’s arms, and with the speed only a full blooded, small Lykae as herself would be able to manage, she sped to James, her father’s enraged bellow ringing out behind her just as she shoved James out of the way. In the process, however, Belle took the hit intended for him, the king’s hand landing on her left cheek, the momentum spinning her body halfway before she landed on her hands and knees on the floor before him. She hadn’t even noticed the loud, distinct crack of her cheek bone, only the smack of the hit. Her eyes were swimming with pain, and she couldn’t control tears from spilling over as she tried to breathe. Even that was troublesome as her neck had taken quite the toll as well, snapping to the side at the hit. Had she been even slightly more fragile, her spinal cord would have cracked. As it was, however, Belle was moments from unconsciousness, sheer stubbornness keeping her awake to utter two, simple, choked words; “please… don’t…” With that, the world around her disappeared, going entirely black as her body crumbled, falling completely to the floor, limp.

Bowen tensed when he saw movement from Belle, but he hardly had time to react before his brother’s hand had connected with the young female’s cheek, and the loud crack accompanying the hit made his eyes widen slightly. Fuck. Had he broken her neck? No. No way, he couldn’t. Belle had grown into her immortality – she couldn’t be killed that easily, and rightly enough, she kept herself lifted on her hand and knees, clearly having trouble even breathing. Clearly, he’d understated the amount of care she felt for the servant. A servant who, compared to her, was worthless. This wasn’t going to go down well at all. He hardly heard her soft plea over the captain’s bellowing. The huge male was completely turned, the beast flickering over him like a shadow. His nails had lengthened into claws, his body growing bigger and taller, ready to fight off anyone to come between him and his daughter. Bowen personally kept his distance. The captain was a force to be reckoned with even when he wasn’t turned, and now? Well, not you’d be an idiot to stand in his way. Then again, Narek was a complete fool at times.

He watched as the captain rushed forward, surprisingly avoiding the king as he lifted his daughter’s prone form into his arms, his eyes murderous and glowing. Personally, the adviser’s temper was hitting an unusual high. What the fuck was his brother even anymore? He clenched his hands just as the captain growled in forewarning, eyes locked on the king, “the last fucking time!” All the while, the turned male was checking his daughter, but he stayed put, apparently deciding her wounds were not fatal. Instead, he faced off against Narek, clearly a soundless warning for the king. Bowen growled low in his throat, finally entering the scene, just to let everyone know he was there. Forrean may be angry about his daughter, and the Lykae instinct in him excused his treasonous actions so far, but one move against the king, and he had Bowen to deal with as well. For now, Bowen turned to the servants, in particular his Amy, growling with authority, “leave.” With that, they all scrambled from the room with as much speed as they could each muster.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Bowen

The fact that his brother looked completely shocked at his own actions was not lost on Bowen. In fact, it was all that kept him from tearing the man a new one. Centuries and centuries of unnecessary killings had finally caused Bowen to reach his limit. He had had it. He had more or less tried to ignore it himself, knowing that his brother was a lost cause, but he had suddenly stopped. He had actually had a week of not a single person’s blood on his hands, and now he thought to come back bigger and badder? Well, Bowe didn’t play like that. This time, he was going to really take things up with his murderous king. Lykaes might be naturally loyal – almost too much so – but that did not make it okay to abuse this trait, which was something he had let Narek do way too much since he had become king. He vaguely recalled his father telling him to take care of Narek; to help him into kinghood and to make sure his temper did not rule him. So far, Bowen had failed their father, but not anymore.

That, however, did not mean he was going to let anyone else even touch his brother. Narek was still king, and to anyone but Bowen, that commanded a certain level of respect. Which was why he was currently inserting himself in events. Once he reached the king, Bowen watched Forrean warily, his gaze observant; evaluating the state of his fellow Lykae. He had really gone all out, so Bowen had to say he was surprised the guy hadn’t attacked yet, especially since the guy was a warrior, much like his father. He had been born and forged in battle; a perfect weapon and formidable opponent. Speed, strength and skill made Bowen wonder if even he would be able to take on the angry Lykae Captain. He nodded once when Narek spoke, a little surprised his brother had actually chosen to utilize the cognitive functions of his brain. It was a rare thing indeed. Forrean was completely quiet, although his gaze was glowing, and unnervingly focused on Narek. It made Bowen a tad uneasy, but at the same time he was now witnessing a serious amount of control. It was impressive, honestly.

“Easier said than done,” he murmured as Narek ran outside. He noticed Forrean twitching, obviously intending to follow the king, and Bowen instinctively reacted, his movements quick as he rushed to block the captain’s path. “Forrean, you need to calm yourself.” He said, thinking he might be able to reason with him. It seemed he had a better control of his beast than most, so one could only hope. “She is alive, is she not?” The captain paused, frowning at Bowen as if trying to understand what he was saying. Bowen stayed where he was, not even moving an inch. This might resemble trying to reason with a rapid dog. Then suddenly, the captain nodded, looking down at the messy bundle of blonde hair that was currently Belle’s face. “See,” Bowen said, unable to hide his relief. “No reason to commit treason then, is there?” Forrean growled in response, and Bowen sighed. It was hard, trying to calm someone else, when he himself was on the verge of letting his temper take over.

“If you fight the king, and loose, what will happen to her?” Bowen said, trying a different approach. Forrean stiffened immediately, and for a moment there, Bowen thought he was going to attack. Instead, the male put his daughter carefully down onto the floor, and looked at Bowen. “Protect?” He was able to growl, and Bowen nodded, assuming he wanted him to protect Belle. Then Forrean ran off out the door, heading for the forest. Obviously, someone needed to let off steam by himself. Bowen let a gust of wind pass his lips. Great, now he had a mad king, an unconscious blonde, and a suicidal servant to handle. Wasn’t life grand? Sometimes he wondered how he’d ever managed to live this long, because right now he felt old. “Narek, get back in here. You and I need to talk.” He called, knowing his brother would hear him clearly enough. Then he put a level, scorching look on James. “Do you think I’ve been keeping you alive all these years, just to see you practically commit suicide?” He almost growled, taking part of his anger out on the pup. “Get out of here, boy. You’re not dying anytime soon, understand?” Mostly because Belle had almost given her life for him. She would not be happy to find him dead when she woke up.

He had noticed James through this entire ordeal, noting the way he was looking at Belle, so Bowen, feeling gracious, lifted an eyebrow. “She’s alive. A hit like that won’t kill her. Hurts like hell, though. Now go.” Belle, lying on the floor next to him, remained completely motionless.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sabine Marx Character Portrait: Haven Nadia Parker Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Sabine Marx

Such an odd human. Was he okay? What a question to ask. He needed to keep a better handle on his features, it seemed. He couldn't have himself looking tired and worn out. Such a weakness simply wasn't a good thing to broadcast on his face. He couldn't help but feel them, there was no cure for the occasional bout of tiredness or stress, no matter how much he wished there was one. To rid himself of the inconveniences would be delightful. Sadly it probably never would be so. The tall blonde arranged a ghost of a smile on his lips and tipped his head a quarter of a centimeter to one side.

"Oh, I'm quite alright. The duties of a king like to scar my visage." He responded vaguely. It was quite true though. The common people didn't have to shoulder the burden of leadership and all the work and thought that were attached to the curse. Especially during this never ending war. Each move had to be meditated and all retaliations analyzed quickly, and the move exacted perfectly. Then one had to go back and do it again with a new set of circumstances. Sabine liked to be deeply involved in the matters of the war, perhaps past the point in which it was healthy. He needed the stimulation, to be honest.

But there was such a thing as too much stimulation. This day's activities had been a touch too much for him, admittedly. And it showed overmuch.

After a few more moments, in which Sabine stared ponderously at the floor, the daemon pushed off the counter and rocked back on his heels, taking his book with him. He passed it between his hands a few times, following the lines of the binding and paper. Then he made a small sound in his throat, his fading partial smile graciously retuning to vividness. "Trivial matters." he dismissed any troubles that might have crossed his face. "Nothing you need to worry about." He said, stepping around the counter. "Anyway, do you require anything to eat? I"m sure the cook wouldn't be bothered to make anything you like." He said gratuitously. The cook would have to deal with a breach in whatever plans he'd made for the evening meal. Too bad for him.

James Dylor

James had his eyes fixed almost excursively on the prone form of the lykae girl who'd just saved him. The Captain of the Guard's daughter. Feeling quite cowed after his near death experience and the (probable) death of someone dear to him, when Bowen's angry words focused on him, the boy shrank under the calm onslaught. He rocked on his feet, his body urging him to do what he was told. He didn't want to though, he needed to make sure Belle was alright. He couldn't just leave unless he knew one way or another.

As if the lykae adviser had read his mind, the man assured him that Belle was indeed still alive. Relief flooded his little body. "Yessir." He mumbled, his eyes glazed with the thoughts inside his head, and he stumbled out of the room. His feet seemed to walk over each other of their own accord, purposely tripping him up just so his outstretched hand could catch him. He had no clue where he was going, but he was going there as fast as his shell-shocked self could get there. his mind was off somewhere else, trying to properly comprehend what was going on. That he'd nearly died of his own intentions and by that same action nearly indirectly killed another, who'd been the one to spur the foolish thought process in the first place, even though it had been completely her fault.

After turning a corner, the boy nearly ran into an older male servant who looked quite surprised to see him. While James tried to catch his balance, the other was staring at him like he was naught but a ghost. Then the man hurried off, presumably to inform everyone that the stupid little pup had survived the King's anger, gossip that would add to the already interesting speculation about the entire situation surround the Captain of the Guard's daughter taking the blow meant for James.

James, unperturbed,continued his trip to nowhere. Somehow his unconscious dropped him off in the musty quiet of the library in a tight corner where two bookshelves didn't manage to perfectly conjoin. With no more thoughts, and all together too many of them to keep track of, James promptly fell asleep.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: James Dylor Character Portrait: Annabelle of Quarth Character Portrait: Bowen Tane
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Bowen

Bowen watched James run out of the room, his dark brown eyes keeping track of every movement made by the pup. He honestly didn’t know what to do with the mess everything was becoming, but he did know fixing things was on his shoulders as usual. Oh, the job of an adviser. No wonder he was on edge currently, his beast scratching furiously at the bars of its cage. Just as James was moving out the door, Bowen heard his brother coming back inside through the window he had just broken for no reason whatsoever except to call more attention to himself. The adviser’s attentive gaze moved to rest on Narek as he came up to stand beside him and began talking, "Brother, I did not fear you would fail and am glad you really didn't. I would have preferred the little sparring match though." In response, Bowen gave a slight nod, moving to pick up Belle from the hard floor. “You forget the difference between sparring and fighting to the death, Narek. You often do.” His voice was calm yet cold and sharp as steel. It was a tone he often took when doing business, and rarely when dealing with his brother, but these were not regular times.

Once more, Bowen felt glad he’d had the foresight to get everyone out of the room, because this conversation was not intended for others. He raised an eyebrow when Narek spoke of the blonde now in Bowen’s arms. “She is a full-blooded, grown Lykae female. She doesn’t need a doctor unless her intestines are hanging out of her. As for the captain, I believe letting him cool down after you almost killed his daughter, would be wise.” At that, Bowe couldn’t help smiling wryly, a sarcastic, dry one that did in no way reach his eyes, before looking down at Belle, smile falling away instantly. He needed to put her down in a bed so she could heal up comfortably. Besides, he really didn’t want to carry her around all day, and he had been asked to protect her in this vulnerable state. Hell, he still wondered what in the world would possess the youngling to interfere like that. So far all he’d come up with was that her Lykae instinct had taken over, but honestly that wasn’t actually as common with females as it was with males. So Bowen was puzzled. As if he didn’t have enough puzzles to solve as it was.

Before Bowen could move, leaving his king and brother, said male began speaking once more and it stopped the adviser completely in his tracks. Had Narek actually suggested a non-deadly punishment for the pup? Bowen could hardly believe his own ears. Maybe today would be the day to generally confront the king about his recent activities. Calling out for Amy, his own girl, he waited only seconds before she was there, collecting Belle into her arms. “Get her to my quarters, place her on the bed and do not leave her. Call for me if you run into any problems.” She nodded dutifully, glancing nervously at Narek before running off with the smaller blonde. Once they were out of sight, Bowen turned to face Narek, closing the door behind him. “An exile to where, exactly?” He asked, thinking over the possibilities. James had to be punished, no doubt about that, but he wanted to make sure it would be in a way that would ensure the boy’s survival.

“On another note, brother, we need to talk. Firstly, where has your head been lately?” He began walking towards Narek. “For a time there I thought you were actually trying to control your temper for once. You know, pull down the number of deaths you deliver to faithful servants and guards a week. Then you turn around and do… this.” He spread his arms out to indicate the room as he stopped in front of Narek. As his arms fell to his sides once more, he shook his head, sighing. “It has something to do with the raven haired lawyer, does it not? Alara Parker? The woman you have been following around as of late. Narek, you are king, and you can do as you please, but that does not mean it is always the right thing to do. I realize you lack the most important Lykae instinct; to protect, but I sincerely wish you would at least consider your actions once in a while.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You are far too old to act out like a spoiled pup, and I am too old to keep cleaning up your messes.”

Bowen was very aware of the fact that he was telling his brother off, but hell, their father was no longer around to do it, and Narek had always needed that guiding hand. Fact was, Bowen was sick of it. It was a wonder he had no physically attacked his brother by now, because his entire body was tensed, ready to attack. He had enough control of keep himself steady though, but he was instinctively preparing for Narek. Part of Bowen wanted the fight, the beastly Lykae part of him, but the other part was holding back, reminding of loyalty to the crown, as well as loyalty to his brother in general. Blood was thicker than anything to Bowen, which was probably the only reason he had not confronted his brother this way before.