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Narek Tane

"Come stand within arms reach and tell me that again."

0 · 282 views · located in Earth

a character in “Paranormal Lovers”, as played by Hinasil

Description

Lykae King

Image

Nickname(s):
Tane

Age (Real Age):
25 (2800-3600, once you get so old years seem like months)

Gender:
Male

Looks (descriptive + must include height – anything not in, or not apparent in, the picture!)
Very large in size, around 6'4" on a bad day, and somewhere above 220 lbs. His fit shape and large size only add to the death gaze he has attached to his face at almost all times. He tends to dress nicely, nice pants, a coat maybe.

Occupation (mostly relevant to the sisters):
Lykae King

Skills/Equipment (meaning martial-arts training, favorite weapon and so on. Not relevant to the sisters)
Depending on which state he's in, his favorite weapon varies. He much prefers using his fists/claws but when he's a human a medieval two-handed great sword will be his opportunity cost. He has received no training in combat, his instincts for battle and the sheer strength he has more than makes up for it.


Personality/History:
Narek is about the largest hot-head alive, thankfully not nearly the same as his father. He does get angered very easily and isn't one for kind words. This has damaged most diplomacy cases as he usually ends up being taken out by his guards(several of them), before he ends up killing everyone. Being king does allow him to act in such a way, or more like he does because he can. He does, because he is a lykae king, think that he is greater than all and he is so used to getting what he wants that when he doesn't, things get a bit out of hand.

Narek had a life fairly different than most lykae. His ruthless father was an abusive one, beating him senseless when things didn't turn out right and Narek could only take it or else the beating would be even more severe. This gave him an idea of who not to be, but like father like son as they say.


Other:
"Don't push it."

Post (this is merely an example of how you would act your character):
Glass shattering and loud crashes came from the king's hall. Servants and guards rushed to seize the king before it was too late to stop him. Narek was throwing them aside as if they were stuffed animals.

"Get out of my way you whelps, you have no place to come near me!" Narek marched through his abode, searching for something. Nobody knew what, all they cared about was stopping him which right now seemed impossible. All the guards were now converging to plan a takedown, they were specialized in this. The king however, couldn't possibly cared who came at him.

"Where is it, where is it? I can smell it, don't think you can hide it from me," he roared. Now anyone with no military training were running and hiding in the many rooms. The guards were now set up and ready to converge on him to attempt a take-down. Narek knew of course, he could smell them all. Even past the intoxicating odor permeating from one particular room. He was close. The guards however had another idea in mind, executing their plan they all ran at him, the first ones trying to grab him only to be thrown to the side. One after the other they flew away, until their came to be too many packed together. One grabbed his arm, another climbed on his back and wrapped his arms around his neck. Soon he was completely covered in bodies, but still moving.

A yell went down the hallway, "Get the food going!" Soon servants with covered platters ran out of the many doors, squeaking past the king and his guards. Narek smelt the food pass by. "Get back here! I order you to release me or suffer!" This was of course a normal day with king Narek, a job with such a low mortality rate and the constant threat of death. To make matters short, none died thankfully, and Narek enjoyed a nice banquet, originally set up as a birthday party for someone until he smelt the food.

So begins...

Narek Tane's Story

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Character Portrait: Narek Tane
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#, as written by Hinasil
"Assault and battery, destruction of public property, and 17 counts of you saying you are king of what was it?"

"Lykaes."

"Right. You seem to be in a lot of trouble fella, we'll have to hold you here until your trial. Do you have a lawyer?"

"I will rip your mouth from that disgusting face you puny human."

"I'll take that as a no. We'll be sure to get you one."

Narek sat in an interrogation room in the downtown police station. He fought back the urge to eradicate every single insignificant human, especially this 'Officer Norman.' He did not want to cause more of a scene after nearly killing a man after he brushed against him. His escort knew to stay out of the way, and make sure they weren't seen. They would tell his household what happened and tell of his glorious battle before he was captured. Narek would be out before tomorrow afternoon. Pending on this 'lawyer' they mention.

Officer Norman took one last look at the file before closing it up and smiling at the king. "Once we get a lawyer for you we'll talk again, you seem to need some help when bargaining for your life." He got up and opened the door to walk out, but not before Narek got in, "When it's your life, bargaining will only be between me and the butcher." The officer gave a quick glance of confusion, or fear.

The king got up and slammed his hands down on the metal table, leaving dents of the bottom of his fists. Everything of the humans was so fragile and weak. Sitting back down he sat and smelled the air, disgusting filth. Lykae's of even the lowest house smelt fit enough for the king, this disgraced his honorableness.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker
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Alara Parker


Alara was feeling relaxed and enjoying her cup of tea more than usual when her cell phone rung. Mildly iritated at being disturbed, the raven haried beauty took it out of her bag and pressed the accept call button.

"Hello?" her voice was soft but firm, holding a note of confidence in her voice. She hadn't really looked at the number so she wasn't sure who it was.

"Alara, it's Norman." Oh.. it was one of her few tolerated associates. That made sense. He usually would call her once in a while though not in an annoying, creepy way like her stalker boss.

"Good evening, what can I do for you?" She asked, keeping her voice light and casual, yet distant.

"Got you a new client. I'm not sure how much you can actually do for him since he's obviously... a little... crazy but you're free aren't you?" His voice was kind of rushed. Guess it was a bad client.. Well, she did have a little time on her hands. She would be able to to take the job.

"Sure, but can I have a little more information?" Alara was starting to get curious and a little bit excited.

"The name is Narek Tane, he's been charged with assault and battery, destruction of public property, and 17 counts of declaring himself King of the Lykaes." Norman's voice was slightly irritated and maybe even a little fearful...? Alara started shoving her papers into her bag.

"Well, I'm sure that you still have him in custody, Officer Norman?" The young lawyer asked. The man answered affirmative and she headed back out of the cafe with her hot drink still in hand. "I shall be there in ten minutes,"
She walked quickly and pulled over a cab to take her to the station. It wasn't far at all and she did get there fairly soon. Alara took a deep breath and pulled open the door before stepping in.

"Alara, he's right in here, come this way please." Officer Norman was seated at a desk but stood to greet her. She nodded at him and followed the man into a room.

"Lawyer's here. Be grateful to her. She came even when I called her last minute." Officer Norman said quickly before scurrying out the door. Alara glanced at the officer once but turned her attention to her new client.

"I'm Alara Parker and I'll be representing you at court." She began, finally taking in the client's appearance. He did not look very happy....

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker
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#, as written by Hinasil
Narek watched the Norman meat come in but quickly leave, leaving a woman behind. This was the best they could muster for him? The urge to simply break through and walk away from the potential blood bath seemed all the more better than having to deal with, with, a... Narek lost his train of thought, staring at this human. It wasn't a love connection, something opposite that was odd enough to pick up.

He had been standing in a corner, leaning on the wall and scratching away at it. It left a clear indication of something sharp rubbing against it several times. He proceeded to sit down in his chair at the dented metal table.

"Are you a friend of that Norman? He was able to summon you on short notice, and he does not seem like one to command such power unless there is some other reason. That insignificant spec could not hold such strength as I. And you, thinking you can stand for me in this 'court'?" Narek was not in a happy mood, but killing this woman could not be a good idea. Killing her would then mean he would have to slaughter even more humans, which would be bad. Of course that depends on his agenda, causing such a scene could only lead into the search of him and his clan. But it will also mean the end of this silliness.

"Speak quickly, for I grow impatient with this sickly cell."

Setting

Characters Present

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


"He's a friend," Alara answered curtly to his first question. "You aren't in a very good situation here, Narek. I'm your best chance, otherwisse you're going to jail." She gazed at him with unreadable dark eyes. This man seemed to be very... arrogant and hot tempered. How irritating... Alara took a seat across from him and took out a couple papers Norman had given her.

"Any excuses you want to give me before we begin?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Any reason you assaulted those people or called yourself a - what was it- a Lykae King?" If Alara wasn't so self diciplined, she might have rolled her eyes. "We're living in this modern society, sir. It doesn't look good for you to call yourself a king." She used this moment to survey him and couldn't help but linger on his muscular arms. Damn. She wouldn't want to be assaulted by those. But the young lawyer kept her face and voice blank as she had perfected. "These are serious charges, sir. You won't be able to get away freely, I'm sorry to say. There will be some consequences for these... offenses."

Narek spoke really formally, Alara noticed. She wasn't sure to be impressed or just annoyed. Oh geez. She was getting annoyed. Because of this man and his ridiculous temper, she may not have time to meet up with her sisters tommorow.


Yeremy


Curse them all. Yeremy was bored again. He was hesitating but it seemed that he should make up his mind. He didn't really care what she thought but... would he even find any amusement?

With long quick strides, Yeremy was climbing the stairs that led up to the King's chambers. Lena should be finished cleaning. It had been a couple hourse after all. The demon advisor clicked his tongue irritably as the feeling of restlessness started coming at him, overwhelming him. Why was the need to move so great? It wasn't even sunny out. Nope. It was evening, getting later and darker by the second.

He spotted the small form and exhaled in relief. He could get out of there.

"Lena, dear. We're going to go out." He gave her a dark look. "If the King hasn't come home by now, it is most possible that he will be out for most of the night." Yeremy grabbed Lena's slim wrist in his large hand, but not too tightly.

"Let's have a little fun tonight, shall we, love?" His eyes glowed almost eerily in the dim lighting of the room. It felt like the darkness was consuming him. He needed to leave the castle. However, he didn't really feel like going out alone or with some human. Just someone he didn't really have to hide his personality with. Unfortunately, there was only Lena.

Setting

Characters Present

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


She listened silently as he went on his little rant and started feeling contempt and utter disgust for him

"Fine, let's say you are king... Who would respect a man that can't keep his temper in check?" She let the disdain ooze out of her voice, looking him in the eyes. With people like this, she had to show her superiority. Alara was the one in control and this man... was the... prize? No, the word didn't seem to fit exactly, but she figured she could find a different word later. "What sane person would let them rule over them? They must be fools,"

Alara jotted down the reasons that Narek had stated. "Let's be clear on this..." She paused to let her cold tone of voice sink in. "I have no desire to be 'friends', it's people like you that make the world a bitter place. You can scratch your own back, I'll merely supervise and get you out of this mess you got yourself into."

She wasn't sure if her words even made any sense but she was sure the meaning was clear. She didn't like him. People like him repulsed her and she would do her job. Damn, if Norman hadn't called... if it had been someone else, Alara would have just walked out of there. "Obviously, you think of yourself very highly, however, in the court room, the judge is king and you will address him with the preferred title of, 'your honor'. Failure to do so, will be a strike against you. Another thing, do not speak unless I tell you to. With that mouth of yours, you might even lengthen your sentence or punishment."

Alara ran a hand through her thick black hair, out of her pale angular face. "It's your choice, really. Cooperate, or don't"


Yeremy


He gazed down at the servant girl and couldn't help but crack a blank, empty smile. It kind of amused him to feel her shake under his grip. Even as she spoke casual words, her voice held the fear she felt for him. Who wouldn't fear him at his state? Hell... even he didn't really know what to think anymore.

"Come along then." He walked fast, knowing Lena would stumble at his pace. His face and mind felt frozen, his jaw was clenched tight and his hands were clenched. He could feel his nails dig into the girl's flesh and felt the beating of her rapid pulse. Or was he imagining it.... On the way back down the stairs, Yeremy put on the mask of pleasantry as the two met up with the captain of the guards.

"Captain Skylar. Good evening." Yeremy dipped his slightly, swiftly. He did not need to do more as he was higher in ranking. Yeremy continued to walk down the stairs and took a turn to a hall that would lead to the outdoors. The urge to lose all self control was rapidly eating at him and he burst through the doors with his shoulder.

The cold air hit his handsome face and he started running. Yeremy didn't know where or why but he started running anyway. Before he did though, he tossed Lena onto his shoulder. She wouldn't be able to keep up and she weighed almost nothing.
Yeremy must have ran for about an hour when he came to a sudden stop at a large oak tree. He stood still for a moment before setting the servant down. Yeremy sank to the ground against the rough bark of the tree, head in his hands.

Setting

Characters Present

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


"Very few..." Alara let a small smirk curl her lips. "I guess that you use fear to rule your... kingdom?" She was just humoring him. There were no kingdoms anymore. Not that she knew of anyway.

"What would you have me do, dress like a jester and dance around while telling humorous jokes? Play a myriad of instruments to the judges content? Perhaps throw my self onto the floor and ask for eternal forgiveness." Narek said bitterly and she rolled her eyes.

"There isn't a need to be so melodramatic." She leaned over to him, her eyes piercing his own. Her fingers pressed into the table. "However, you are obviously in the wrong. When it is your turn to speak, you will ask forgiveness. No matter the offense, violence is usually not the answer." Alara spoke in a low, cold tone. "I don't know where you come from, but here, if you hit someone, they have the total right to press charges."

Either Narek wasn't from here or he was one of those super rich boys that got away with everything because of their parents money. Maybe they both applied to him. Narek definitly seemed spoiled to the core. A rich brat. Alara sighed and flicked away a piece of her black hair.

"Are you willing to do as I say? Or should I leave right now and leave you to defend yourself?" Alara asked, she was getting impatient. "I have no wish to work with someone who will ruin my reputation."


Yeremy


Her soft voice was in his ears. Yeremy almost didn't understand what she had said. He had expected her voice ot shake, to tremble... to be filled with fear as it usually was. This time it was filled with curiosity and maybe sincerity. Should he be honest with her. His pale face was tight and weary but his full pink lips cracked into a blank, bitter grin.

"No, my lord." She said quietly, shrugging slightly. Her eyes still watched him and he raised his head to peer back at her brown eyes. "But... I'm... curious as to why you brought me here. Why you took me with you. And... I'd like to know how I can help."

"Let's see..." Yeremy trailed off, his right index finger tracing a pattern in the dirt. What should he say? Should he return her sincerity with his own? Why not? It isn't as if what she thought mattered. Even if she told people what he said to her, no one would believe a word she said. He was Yeremy Markovich after all. The Demon King's faithful advisor.

"It feels like I'm losing myself," He spoke softly, it was the first time he spoke the dreaded words aloud, and it almost made him lash out. At what... at who.. he didn't know but the urge was still there. "Nothing seems to matter anymore. I don't find anything about life enjoyable. It's almost as if I'm already dead." Yeremy stood up, feeling the need to stretch his long legs. "That thought alone makes me crazier than I already am." He smiled up at the sky. But it was an empty motion.

"As for what you could do for me...." Yeremy turned and looked down at Lena, making direct eye contact. He reached into his coat pocet and pulled out a small gleaming knife. Despite its size, the weapon was obviously sharp and deadly. "Slit my throat,"

He repeated it in a whisper. "Slit my throat with this if you feel anything for me." It shouldn't be too hard. Lena, he was aware of, had always hated him. She probably dreamed of stabbing him at night. Yeremy knew he was desipicable. But the thing was, he wasn't sure if he wanted to live or die.

This... test would show if he had any will to live. If he still had some, Yeremy's instincts would kick in and he would be able to disarm Lena in a heart beat. If not... then he would die.

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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#, as written by Mela
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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#, as written by Mela
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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#, as written by Mela
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: Alara Azlea Parker
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Alara


The dark haired girl was sitting on the steps of a small park, her elbows resting on her knees and her head in her hands. She felt awful. Completely guilty for letting Narek off. "I'm such... a failure." Alara whispered, staring blankly at the cement under her feet. Her anger had finally disappeared, letting her shame resurface. But undermeath Bowen Tane's confident gaze... she knew there was no way for her to win that one. All of her confidence had just drained away at his smug smile. Alara let out a hiss as she thought about the moment. Yeremy would be able to clear this up for her. He was a lot more experienced than she was and hopefully, he wouldn't think too bad for her. It seemed, that the man understood her sometimes which was quite strange.

Alara sighed, pulling her phone out of her bag. It wasn't too late. Her finger slid down the screen and located the lawyer's name. With a wave of bitterness, she pressed down on it. Raising her head and straightening her back, Alara put the phone to her ear and waited for the man to pick up. Dully, she counted each ring. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to pick up or not.
Then the familiar smooth voice answered the phone and a relieved smile broke out onto her weary face. Yes. Yeremy would help her clean this up.

"I'm sorry to call you so late." she began. "But I've gotten myself in a little... mess and I need your.. help on clearing it up. I understand if you're busy. Just say the word and I'll leave you alone."

Yeremy


The tall dark haired man was in the arms of some woman he had not yet learned the name of. However, she was so dimwitted that he did not really care for it. At the moment, he was after one thing and one thing only. She would just be another night he wouldn't remember. Was it harsh of him? His green eyes flashed and hungrilly kissed the lips of the brunette. No. He was a demon and that is how demons were.

The feel of flesh against flesh helped him keep his mind in order. Talking with Lena had helped but it seemed that humans were a better tool for helping him stay sane. There was no mentality involved. Humans were physical and he liked that... very much.

His white button down had made it to the floor when his phone rang, the vibration rumbling loudly against the hard wood of the nearby dresser. With a sigh, Yeremy reached for it, about to his the ignore button when the name caught his eye. As the demon advisor looked at his phone for a couple of seconds the woman began to whine.

"You aren't going to answer it are you?" Her voice was high pitched and squeaky. He glanced sharply at her and all of his arousal died down imediately. With a pointed glare, Yeremy answered the phone.

"I'm sorry to call you so late." she began. "But I've gotten myself in a little... mess and I need your.. help on clearing it up. I understand if you're busy. Just say the word and I'll leave you alone."

"Evening, Alara. I'm not busy at all. Tell me what kind of mess your in. I'm sure I can get you out of it." His voice held all the confidence in the world and he had his shirt back on and was walking out the door before the brunette could even blink.

Yeremy listened intently and with interest as the young lawyer told him some....amusing things about the Lykae King, Narek Tane. "I'll get right on it, love. Stop worrying and get some sleep. I'll handle everything."

The little conversation had him feeling back in control and he smiled. Everything seemed better at the moment. With sure steps he broke out into a run and back to the castle. The little stalemate in the war was very agravating. However... if he could get the Lykae King behind bars... the chances were much, much better. Lykaes were obviously the strongest. Not the brightest but very strong.
But before he could do anything, Yeremy had to inform the king and get his opinion and permission. It was dark now.

Yeremy stood outside the Demon King's room. His white knuckles rapped against the door.

"Do you have a moment, my lord?" Yeremy asked softly.

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: Narek Tane Character Portrait: Alara Azlea Parker
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Alara Parker


She was safe. They hadn't raped her like Alara had thought they were going to. In fact, those men were lying on the ground beaten and a bit bloody. It was surprising aand she felt so relieved with gratitude. She was inexperienced with men and usually they made her nervous expect for some. So who had saved her again? Alara looked up with dark blue eyes and she let out a small gasp as she caught sight of the angry man. What was he doing here? Her mind went blank for a moment, trying to recall his name. She knew that this was the man that had made her feel so horribly ashamed. Alara had tried to cast out all thoughts of him. But here he was, her savior. Or was that a bit too dramatic? Alara didn't know and she didn't really care much. She was a girl that hadn't even had her firsrt kiss yet. Her parents had kept boys strictly off limits after seeing how Sapphire was so taken with them.

Alara hadn't minded much. No one ever caught her eye and the ones that did, turned out to be great friends she could count on. Romance was never in her mind. Alara thought it was all very silly actually. She couldn't understand how Sapphire could do the things she did. It was strange. Did that make her prude, then? Alara wasn't sure and couldn't make herself care. She turned down suitors the best she could, and if they turned out ot be one of her friends, she tried to make it as gentle as possible. She wasn't looking for love or anything. Alara wasn't even sure if Sapphire or Haven were either. Maybe...? Probably not... Their parents seemed to have beaten the love out of them, not literally of course, but mentally. Their own parents didn't even seem to be very fond of each other. They seemed more like siblings if anything. It made marriage... look unappetizing, to her at least.

Now Alara looked back up at the man and squinted, trying to see if he had gotten hurt. Hopefully not. She hated him, yes. However, if someone she loathed had gotten hurt trying to help her, Alara wouldn't really know what to do. Was she supposed ot stop hating him or something? That seemed impossible. Alara didn't hold grudged often but when she did, they usually went on forever. That's how it was. But this guy seemed to be fineif not a little out of breath. Barely even that it seemed. It was hard to forget an attractive face like that and Alara searched for the name that belonged with this face. It wasn't any use though. She couldn't remember. The dark haired girl took in a shaky breath and stood though her legs were a little shaky. Alara tried to ignore it but she still couldn't quite shake off the feelings of hands on places that no man had ever touched before. It made her feel dirty and violated and she kind of wanted to cry. That wasn't a feeling she felt everyday. Alara Parker wasn't a crier. Even when she was little, she hardly ever shed tears and people called it abnormal.

It wasn't very nice and Alara understood every word that was said about the cold little girl. The one that would ignore the other little girls and talk only when spoken to by an adult. She was just a kid but her only safety was with her sisters. It wasn't as if she hated the other kids, Alara was just a quiet girl that didn't need friendships. She already had her sisters that she could count on and that was enough for her. That changed as she got older. Alara grew interested in her studies, Sapphire seemed to live to make her parents crazy and Haven doted on her flowers. She began to search out those that had the same interests in her.

"Th-thank you for that." Alara spoke up, hating how her voice trembled and stuttered. It wasn't like her. She was never this weak. This vulnerable and seeing the unconcious bodies around her made her want to throw up. She couldn't remember this man's name and at the moment she didn't care. She felt faint and a bit dizzy and it didn't help that her stomach was empty. She brushed down her tattered clothes though it wasn't much help and stumbled toward her bag.

She should just get home and try to forget this ever happened. Now if only she could remember what street she lived on...

Setting

Characters Present

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

"I wouldn't carry a simple peasant's bag even if it were my mother's!" Alara rolled her eyes. It seemed that this arrogant jerk has finally returned to his normal pompous self. She could not stand him, but she had to admit it was better than his previous actions. He was such a strange person. Then the purse went flying out of her hands and she glared at him through wide, angry eyes. No matter how angry he was, a real man would be able to control his anger.

“It isn’t as if I asked you to help me. You were the one that offered your services first mister.” Alara snapped back at him.

"Who do you think I am? A new-born child! What about a lowly servant? Whose destiny it is to serve you on my hands and knees!? Foolish girl, I am the Lykae King! Leader of the deadliest army in all creation! I bow to no one. Especially you..."

Alara did not open her mouth to speak. His personality was so vile. She truly pitied those that had to interact with him everyday. He didn’t even act human. He didn’t even act as if he lived in this century! Then she felt her breath catch in her throat as he walked up to her menacingly. She had to look up to keep holding his gaze. She hated looking away first. It was a sign of weakness after all. Was he going to hurt her? She felt a little tremor of fear but pushed it away into a deep crevice of her mind. Why would he go through all that trouble just to finish what they started? He wouldn’t rape her, at least. Alara hoped. He was truly monstrous. The way he had tossed those men... They never stood a chance. He could even be called attractive if he didn’t scowl so much. A smile would light up his whole face... Narek didn’t seem like too bad of a person. His pride was just too big, that’s all. So he was an egotistical annoying pompous handsome bastard. Alara nodded to himself. She felt herself lose focus for a minute, his eyes were so fierce.

Then she realized he was speaking and shook her head slightly, silently berating herself. So what if he was attractive? He was mean. Rude. Hotheaded. Conceited. There were more words she could list but the point was, Narek Tane was everything she hated in another person, let alone a romantic partner.

Wait- What did he say? Alara wrinkled her nose as she recalled what he just said seconds before. He had been following her? She felt a wave of repulsion. Didn’t the man have a job or something? What did he mean by “lowly creature”? It must be another part of his nonsense babbling. Alara picked up the bag once more, irritation flaring within her. What a freak. She gave him a disdainful look as he continued to prattle on and on. Jeez. This guy liked to hear himself speak, didn’t he?

Insects do not know of honor, and they would stoop to such low tactics as they are employing now; however..."

Alara was fairly convinced. This guy was delusional. A little bit whacked bordering on creepy. He had almost ruined her career then he saves her from getting raped. Afterwards, he actually admits that he had been following her around.... She was glad to watch him run off. He made her cranky and a wee bit anxious. Gosh, she wished she never saw him again. Twice was enough.

Yeremy Markovitch



His heart seemed to melt and the burning anger dissolved to a dull ache. Her smile was really quite pretty, now that he thought about it. Then again, he’s never really seen her smile before. Yeremy regretted how meanly he treated her. He regretted how he treated everyone. He never forced himself onto the women but he had used intimidation. He knew it wasn’t neccessary but making sure his authority was recognized, was. His power had him feel higher than others but now, Yeremy knew he was not. Most of the days, Yeremy had done a lot of thinking. Justice was a cruel word with a cruel meaning. What was real justice? It is whatever the one in power says it is. Those that are weak and powerless, are at the mercy of those that are strong. And sometimes, the strong do not have good intentions.

His lips pulled up. Yeremy realized he was actually smiling back on the servant girl he had loved to torment with. He wasn’t sure why it had amused him. He wasn’t sure of a lot of things anymore. She took a sip of tea and Yeremy hoped it was helping her. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain she was in, or the fear she had felt. Lena was certainly brave to be able to tolerate it. Then she opened her mouth but he was not able to catch what she said, if she said anything at all, that is. He leaned in a bit more, approaching her cautiously as she took another drink of the tea.

“My lord,” Lena spoke, her voice shaky and uneven but the smile on the advisors face grew wider. A little thrill went up his spine. Yeremy wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he feared that her vocal chords had been permanently damaged. She hadn’t screamed like that in a long time and he wasn’t sure what to have expected. But Lena had talked and it seemed that she’d get well over time and more tea. However, her next words wiped the smile of his face. Yeremy’s face was a bit stiff and he looked away from her large doe eyes. Guilt and shame would have shown in his eyes if he had not closed them tightly.

“I’ve done nothing to deserve your thanks. I could not even keep the guards in line.” the handsome advisor murmured thickly. He had failed. It was terrible. Everything was his fault. He should have made the rules more clear. “You got hurt..” The words made his lips sting as they forced himself out of his mouth. His heart spasmed a little. Was he choking? Wetness appeared at the corner of his eyes. Large hands clenched then unclenched repeatedly. He could remember seeing her covered with blood. Her tiny form, huddled and shaking.

The image pained him and he felt so responsible. He’d never really felt that way before. Tears had never leaked since he was a small child that wasn’t able to get the present he wanted for his birthday. In fact, Yeremy was feeling a lot of emotions he never had. He hated it. Was he turning human? Though his disgust for the race was growing, Yeremy still prided himself in being a demon. They were a strong race. He took in a small breath and regained control of himself. He turned his body slightly away as he raised his head back up.

“Would you like me to get you a book or something?”

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

After examining Haven for a few moments, Sabine deemed that she wouldn't be waking up at this very moment. He should go off and do something else. Instead of sending someone to fetch him a book, the daemon strode off to busy himself with selecting one. Reading was an enriching pastime. He lingered for a short while in the library, tracing spines with a finger before selecting a random tome from a shelf and letting it fall open in his hand. His eyes swept the words on the page briefly and he deemed the book good enough to read, snapped it shut, and set off for the small room again.

When he arrived at his destination, he saw the blonde human standing, her back to him. She was tucking the bedsheets back in their places. Sabine stood for a moment looking at her. He looked tired and weathered at the moment, cheeks more hollow than normal, his eyes slightly hooded. A long, eventful day, perhaps more eventful than one in a long while. Less strategy and more frustration. Sabine could think alright, thinking didn't bother him at all, but when his cognitional facilities deserted him, that was when stress built.

"I see you are awake, Miss Haven." He spoke suddenly, taking a few paces from the door, shifting the book from hand to hand. "Are you feeling well?"

As he spoke, the daemon tugged his sleeve down over his wounded forearm again. It was starting to prickle slightly, reminding its owner of its presence. "Do you wish to go home?" He asked after a beat, studying her. "I will escort you if you wish." The thin man cast his eyes around the room, looking away from Haven. He took a few more steps forward, reaching out and resting a hand on the counter top. He laid his novel down on it, squaring it against the corner of the marble top, so the bottom cover laid exactly in line with the rounded edge. Then he rested his elbows on the book, resting his chin on his folded hands, pale eyes flicking up after a few moments to the blonde. He blinked slowly, then sighed.

He still couldn't work it out. It made no sense. She was nothing more than an ordinary girl. And ordinary human girl. Young woman. Whichever. It comparison to his years, she was nothing more than a child. So how could such an insignificant speck be standing in his home? When had he ever allowed a human into his abode, taken a wound to protect one, made sure one was okay? Cared? He was Sabine he didn't care about anyone, specifically. Nothing more than the welfare of his kingdom, more or less, and all the interest that entailed, and he cared somewhat for his books. Enough to keep them in good condition at least. And for Lena, inn a way. In his way. And he could tell that it was changing, somehow.
His reaction had been inappropriate, not calm enough, not centered enough, not composed enough. But at the same time, there was nothing he could do about it, really. It had just...happened. A breach in self-control. And he couldn't help but think that it was Haven's fault. It had been, after all, two breaches in self control on the same day, the first to fling himself haphazardly in front of a car, and the second after seeing Lena. He was a king for the sun's sake. He didn't do such things. He shouldn't do such things. It wasn't proper.

But...was it entirely a bad thing?

James Dylor

The call was like a siren's song, but the compelling factor was fear, not amour. It said, you will do as I say, or you will no longer exist. Just another bloodstain on the floor for some poor creature to clean up. In this case, James. Or if the bloodstain was James, then someone else. He didn't know who. He'd never thought to contemplate who his replacement would be. Honestly, it didn't matter. it wouldn't effect him in anyway. it wasn't like any servant would purposely sabotage him to gain the position. it wasn't like anyone wanted to be the king's personal servant. That job was more dangerous than vcolcano-diving, it felt sometimes.

James hurried down the stairs, following the current of servants en-route through the servant corridors and stairwells. The line they formed was perfectly straight. each servant in his or her place, shoulder to shoulder with two partners. Or one, for the bookends. One of which was James. Every single servant showed the same profile, tilted down slightly, deferent to the master as a pack of dogs to the alpha. Because that was all they were, weren't they. A rag-tag group of cowed dogs. As he shifted in his spot, taking the chance of casting his bright blue gaze over his surroundings. He spotted Belle and her father and hurriedly looked away, back to the ground.

His Majesty the King started talking just at that moment. James's head was thudding as a stressed headache bloomed behind his eyes. He couldn't take that right now. To be honest, he couldn't take anything right now. Working alone had been alright, he'd been able to distract himself easily with his self assigned tasks. But now he was just a frothing mug of confusion and hurt and other such emotions that refused to simmer down at all. He wished he could throw something. breaking something would work just as well. Or both. At the same time.

It didn't help, listening to the King tell them all about how he was going to make life harder again. When the King stopped in front of a servant a few shoulders away from James, the young man tried to compose himself, and discovered that he'd been shuddering unconsciously. But somehow he knew that the reason he was shaking and the reason the servant before His Majesty was shaking were two entirely different reasons. James had just realized something. He wasn't happy with this. He was quite angry, in fact. One could say that he was royally pissed off, if they wanted to be accurate.

'If anyone would like to complain, step forward.'

James didn't quite know what had taken hold of him, usually he was a mild mannered boy. It was quite possibly that at any given encounter, he'd never spoken more than a dozen words to his King at a time. But at this moment he was sick of it. Sick of all of it. He didn't have a future, hell, he barely even had a present. Why shouldn't he? The electric blue eyes glanced over at Belle once before the owner of the eyes took a deep breath and took a small step forward. His voice was slightly tremulous, he couldn't help it, but for all its softness it seemed to carry through out the entire room. "I do."

He could feel eyes on him, but he couldn't see anything. Nothing at all. Blood had rushed up to his face, and he couldn't make out more than the general forms of everyone. Everything was kind of...dizzy looking. Surreal. But he wasn't focusing on his sight problems, he was busy forcing his next words from his gut.

"I'm fucking sick of this shit. Of-of cleaning your bloody messes of the floor. I don't have to tolerate you, My King" It wasn't a shout, if anything, by the tone it sounded pleasant and conversational, just slightly fearful, perhaps. But his body language was hostile, his fists clenched at his side, and his eyes fixed on his king. He lifted his chin slightly, his head tilted to one side, eyes still sightly pinpointed on the Lykae king. It was a dare. Come kill me. I want it. His face said. It's my turn to be a bloody stain on the floor for someone else to clean up. It's my turn to be done with all this shit. He linked his gloved hands behind his back, his posture perfectly straight. He resisted the urge to look at Belle again. It was a shame, he'd not get to tell her how much her short bout of friendship had meant to him. What it had shown him. How insignificant his life was, and futile. His life wasn't worth all this empty pain.

James was feeling quite treasonous today, apparently.

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.