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a character in “The Gilded”, as played by Inuiri



"Life is for service."
~ Fred Rogers



Birth Name: Cambria Roux
Given Name: Canan

Pet, Kitten, Rose

May 23, 2080


Gilded to Silas Buchanan






Canan stands at under 5 feet, 4’11” to be exact, dwarfed entirely by her Master, Silas. Her skin is porcelain white, almost translucent at points from how pale it is, wavy strawberry blonde locks falling down to her lower back, tiny diamonds glimmering from under her curls. Holding up her body are two bony, slim legs, her limbs dangerously thin, easily broken with one wrong move, which Silas likes to think is why he’s so protective of her.
Although her downturned eyes being so far apart is natural, their shocking pink color is most certainly not, a result of years of dyeing. Her rounded nose was once sharp and upturned, but was changed easily through surgery at a young age. Canan seems to be constantly pouting, her plump lips downturned, only making her look younger and more desirable with the blush constantly tinting her rounded cheeks.
Aside from the gentle curls and lines of gold scattered across her body, the most shocking feature are the rams horns sprouting from her temples, constantly roped in delicate gold vines and flowers. Not too long ago a trend of artificial body parts being added on ran rampant, thankfully, horns were the most popular aspect. Though the trend died out in mere weeks, Silas had grown too attached to the beautiful juxtaposition of such monstrous horns on his delicate pet. He refused to have the surgery reversed when everyone else did.
Though in private and at parties Canan wears what her Master desires to best present himself, usually being nothing aside from jewels, when she’s in public she wears thick furs to protect from the cold. When the weather warms she wears silks, usually just simply draped across her, leaving enough to show off but still remain covered enough.


Perfect. That’s what Silas always called her. She was perfect, boasted about at parties but murmured quietly when alone. Her everything was his, and certainly not because that was her purpose. It went so much deeper than that. She loved him, so truly and wholly, every bit of her adoration tingling through her at all times, truly unsure of how to function alone. In a way it was more machine than human, though that’s what they wanted Gilded’s to be wasn’t it?

But perfect was far from reality.

Spoiled would be a better word with how Silas couldn’t dream of ever telling her no. A menagerie of pets because of one offhand comment about wanting to cuddle something soft, an entire room full of fur coats because he saw her shiver once. Anything and it was hers. Even if that anything was every moment of Silas’ attention, being without it for too long leaving her whiny and pitiful.

It’s not all her fault. Gildeds don’t mature how they should, leaving many of them mentally stunted and naive, though once again through her whining Canan refused the tutor Silas got her and will only take lessons from him. Naive is certainly an understatement though. Gildeds would follow their Master’s orders no matter what it was, making them such fun playthings. In the most disturbing of circles, people will subject them to torture from others. Though she’s safe from such things being Silas’ pet, she certainly has the same unwavering trust. His word is so much more than law, it’s her entire purpose.

From her naivety however, comes the childlike temperament that’s so lusted after in Gildeds, happily asking simple questions of things she was never exposed to. She’ll happily spend days like a little doll, simply dressing up for him and laying about to decorate his home.

Her animals
Being alone with Silas

Though she doesn’t understand what that feeling is that she hates so much, it’s jealousy
Nightmares, despite how consistent they are
Being touched by others without Silas’ permission
The smell of smoke
Loud Noises

☠Getting dirty, even in the tiniest way
☠ Losing Silas
☠ Fire


Cambria was a tiny little thing when she was born, already enough to catch The Council’s attention, her eyes so unusually far apart had everyone talking, it barely took until the end of her first day on Earth before she was given a new name and they began stunting her growth. Canan - as she was known from then on - was destined to be a commodity to whoever she went to, a pretty toy that would be sold to whoever wanted her. She would always look younger than she was, tiny and fragile, only emphasized with surgeries, making her stomach so impossibly small she barely needed nutrients at all, fed one tiny meal a day like a dog to fulfill all her dietary needs and keep her healthy.

Canan was never a person, not from the moment she was born and deemed too beautiful to be one. They started playing with the nerves soon enough, heightening any feeling, but beating out of her any negative response. Of course it wasn’t a real beating, some others did receive those, her frail bones would break. They’d electrocute her, ruin her mind until she had no choice but to calmly receive anything they would dish out, no matter how painful it really was.. After that they would teach them how wonderful human touch was, giving them just enough and then starving them of it. By the time she was 8 she was begging to be used like any good Gilded.

An ancient industry built off of child grooming. Society had never been without a class like Gildeds though, historians could never pinpoint where the practice began or when , they had never been without a set of people to be human trophies. They had no idea what was wrong with it, their methods only evolving with time.

Canan went to school, though unlike a human child, she was taught how good Gilded’s were for the world, how to carry yourself just right, how to dance, sing, whatever was possibly needed of them to be the perfect pet. They were addicted to praise, making them desperate to please whoever their owner would be.

When she finally turned 15, Canan got her marks, their graduation in a way. She sat silent through the whole process, though she was desperate to see how they would look. When they brought the mirror over she stared in awe, tears welling up at the sight. She had never felt so pretty in her life.. Little golden stripes, waves, intricate delicate patterns littered her lithe body, but most importantly her lower lashes were lined with delicate gold. Facial marks, especially ones in a dangerous area like the eyes or lips, were a sign of her high status even among her own kind, that she would sell at an incredibly high price for her value.

It barely took 3 months before she was bought. The handlers were a little rough with her, which she couldn’t help but pout at. She was kept in darkness during the delivery, only remembering warm hands waking her next. It was like her whole world clicked into place when she had finally met Silas, her entire being made sense now. She was his. She was meant to be his in every way, and she loved him horribly, in the way they tried to hide from her growing up.


Silas being the ostentatious man he is owns a vast array of animals, all belonging to Canan as well
Face claim: Anya Taylor-Joy


So begins...

Canan's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Ren Truscott Character Portrait: Luisa Dubois Character Portrait: Laurence Perry Character Portrait: Magnolia T. Krane Character Portrait: Edmund P. Gray Character Portrait: Rosemary Eleanor Darcy Character Portrait: Priscilla Johnson Character Portrait: Alanus McCloud Character Portrait: Meredith Joplin Character Portrait: Canan Character Portrait: Xena Dawn Character Portrait: Aris Lincoln Character Portrait: Quartz M. Jones

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The problem with having the wealth and power that he did meant that it often fell on Silas to host his peers and their over-the-top demands when it came time for holidays or any other celebration. One such holiday had always been welcoming in the new year in the dead of winter. Temperatures in Arcadia never reached above forty degrees in the winter, and a thin sheet of snow coated everything.

A unforgiving wind whipped through the streets that day, driving most Patricians into the cover of their automobiles to reach whatever party they would be attending. Silas's was only for the cream of the crop, of course. A man in his position could not afford to invite those who didn't belong there. Despite that, his home seemed packed to the brim. The manor stood on the edge of Arcadia, in the same place his mentor had begun its construction so many years ago. And now, here it was - a looming, multi-story thing of near-palatial quality.

It was Harvey who had requested the layout that, frankly, had no place among the most modern pieces of architecture. It seemed to glow in the moonlight, the white of the building reflecting the light like a beacon. A courtyard in the center stretched the length of the mansion, but it had been covered for the comfort of the party-goers.

It was in the courtyard that Silas stood now, engaged in a conversation with far too many people at once. Like most of the conversations that night, it involved talk about the recent protests that had sprung up in smaller, less significant cities across The Republic earlier that day. That was the problem with mass media, he found - news spread far too quickly. He hadn't even had time to be briefed before the concerned phone calls came into his secretary and the more influential Patricians appeared at his doorstep.

"It's outrageous, I say," blubbered a woman to his right. She was a journalist, he recalled, one of the first who had appeared on his doorstep that morning. "The gall of some...frankly, I don't see what they plan to accomplish." She turned quickly, facing Silas with a hungry look in her eyes. "What do you make of it?"

Societal change slips under our noses, suddenly integrates itself into life.

He had been watching Canan from a slight distance, having let her wander off among the flowers in the garden. Once upon a time, that could have - would have - been him. He had been so young then, but here he stood, a changed man. He could hardly imagine a life without the Gilded.

It was ironic that despite all of his schooling, he had seemed to forget one of the earliest lessons he had learned as a child, that there was an ugly side to the Gilded that the media, the endless commercials and promotions didn't show. He could hardly remember a time without the looming presence of the Gilded.

"We...owe it to the people of The Republic to let them speak for themselves," he began, his hand tightening for a moment on his tumbler of some drink he had long forgotten about. "But we will ensure their civil liberties do not infringe upon those of other citizens." He gestured about the circle, his hand almost hesitating as he gestured past a few of the Gilded that stood by their respective Patricians.

He looked to the journalist now, and she gave a slow nod, already pounding his words into her sleek cellular device with her thumb. They would be across the nation in just minutes. An urge struck him, and he downed the rest of his drink before excusing himself and walking towards the bar, seeking something else to calm newly frazzled nerves.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Canan

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#, as written by Inuiri


Stop Canan’s mind whined pitifully. She could feel those eyes on her, not Master’s of course. She kept her head dipped down, straight bangs covering her eyes as she tried to focus on the flower crown she was weaving, hoping to ignore it but knowing the Patrician would only come over if she pleased anyway. She was some media mogul, those ones were always the most entitled. Her fingers twitched a little as she brushed her thumb over the pale yellow rose petals, unable to help herself as she lifted her head, eyes lighting up at the sight of Silas looking back at her.

In the short little window they looked to one another, her gently rounded brows furrowed as she pouted just the smallest bit. She didn’t want anyone coming over and treating themself to her. As quickly as he looked over, he was back to speaking and she was back to her work, little bare toes wiggling into the plush grass.

It took Canan a few moments to even realize she had finished working when she blinked back to reality, coincidentally standing the moment she heard footsteps approaching. With a little hop in her step, she tiptoed over to her Master, skinny little fingers curling in his sleeve and tugging gently, holding the crown up and silently presenting it to him.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Magnolia T. Krane Character Portrait: Edmund P. Gray Character Portrait: Rosemary Eleanor Darcy Character Portrait: Priscilla Johnson Character Portrait: Canan Character Portrait: Quartz M. Jones Character Portrait: Amias Vennum

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Wearing an outfit that was both modest and sexy, Magnolia stood off to the side, playing with the satin of her dresses skirt. She had found the perfect spot to watch while her Patrician went and rubbed elbows, or instigate a fight by speaking his mind sense he was rather more open minded then most. Sense no one was really paying her any attention she was watching the going ons around her. Her jewel toned eyes focusing on the Silas Buchanan, the host of tonights extravagant party. Attractive, tall, dark, but totally out of her league even if she hadn't signed away her freedom to become a Gilded and potentially have a better life once she was released.

Not that Magnolia was complaining, her Patrician was kind and didn't really want her to do more then be herself, be his daughters friend, and of course better herself by using the resources he has kindly offered her. He, for the most part, left her alone and to her own devices unless he wanted to accompany him to parties and such. Now, though, standing on the outskirts of a beautiful party filled with beautiful people admired but ignored she couldn't help but feel a bit lonely. Deciding that standing in one spot was making her depressed she decided to move about, walking the outskirts. Smiling and nodding to people she knew and avoiding the reporters, all of them a hungry look to them that told her that they were searching to get a Gilded's point of view on the protests.


"Priscilla, have fun dear. You know who you can talk to and who is off limits. Please avoid the reporters, Actually, im not asking. Avoid the reporters. By the way, have I told you that you look lovely? Because you do." Edmund said with a smile, he adjusted his tie as he handed his coat over to the attendant and smoothed a hand over his hair, smiling to a few of the men and women he knew he peeked at Priscilla from the corner of his eye, "Before you wander off, let us say hello to the host of tonights event my dear." he stated in his charming manner as he offered his arm to his Gilded. She did look lovely as he had stated but he only really kept a Gilded because it was expected of him. The last of the Gray line and all, he was rarely home and he truly felt awful that he basically kept this beautiful dove locked in a cage but it was the way of life.

Walking with purpose filled strides he made his way over to Silas, a wide smile on his lips, "Hello Silas, it appears that you have out done yourself once again." Edmund greeted, probably in a far to personal way. He never was one for propriety and often shrugged it off, much to the chagrin of his peers. His eyes only briefly flickered down to Silas's Gilded, Canan he believed she was called before he focused back on to his host, "Chilly tonight, isn't it?" once again interrupting one of the less prominent men that had been trying to speak to Silas. Tapping Priscilla's hand twice as if to let her know she could wander off he kept his focus and his smile directed toward Silas.

Edmund really wasn't one for fancy parties or get togethers sense it interrupted his few free moments that he wasnt working but this was one of the biggest of the year and they were a great way to get some extra business, that being said though he had always enjoyed the few talks he had, had with Silas in the past and in such he was hoping to pass most of the night having another.


Quartz enjoyed having attention upon her, especially when she knows she looks good. Which of course she did, a tight fitted black silk dress clung to her tiny frame, accenting her milky skin and fiery hair just like the gems that had been implanted upon her flesh. Looking up at her Patrician, her friend, and her occasional lover she smiled "Shall we enjoy ourselves?" she asked, her voice soft and musical as her eyes roamed the room. Though she has been to many parties like this one in the past three years she has been with Rosemary, they never stop exciting her.

She wasn't as naive or as childlike as some of the Gildeds she has meet in the past, she was often referred to a mature and she had even heard a few call her undesirable because of it but she was wanted by Rosemary and that was all that mattered to her. She was perfect for her Mistress, or at least she was under the impression that she was, and together they were happy. Keeping on hand on Rosemary she followed beside her as they moved through the crowds that parted for elegant pair.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Edmund P. Gray Character Portrait: Priscilla Johnson Character Portrait: Canan

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Priscilla always loved it whenever the new year rolled around. It was a chance to start again, whether on life or just to start over in general. She also loved the festivities that followed, big or small and loved being within the presence of other people. Of course, she was a little bit on the quieter side of things but embracing her adulthood life have made her come to terms with being around other people and opening up to them, as well. Priscilla eyed the pathways that herself and Edmund traveled to get to Silas' place. She smiled at just about everything then looked over towards Edmund, still a smile plastered upon her face.

When they arrived to the little get together, she stayed close by her Patrician and linked her arm with his. As Edmund started to speak towards her, her eyes fluttered over to meet his and she let out a breath. Hearing his words and command, she couldn't help but nod her head while she responded to him. "Yes, Edmund. I will definitely avoid the reporters." She said in a delicate tone then couldn't help but blush whenever he mentioned how lovely she looked. "Thanks, Edmund. And you look adorable yourself. But of course you would because I picked off your suit." Priscilla couldn't help but chuckle after she said that and slapped his arm playfully before she linked hers back properly to his.

Before she trailed off away from Edmund, he wanted her to go over to meet and greet with the host, Silas. She had let Edmund speak first then she parted her mouth to speak, as well. "This is very extravagant." Priscilla offered the compliment towards Silas and ended with a smile as she felt Edmund tap her twice to let her know that she was now free to wander off. Before she wander off, she eyed Silas' gilded, Canan then she offered one more smile towards Silas and her Patrician, Edmund before she walked away from them.

With a slight sigh, she stood in the middle of the room for a moment, thinking about what could she do or where could she go. The house was really gorgeous she knew her place and not to really trail off too far from Edmund. But as soon as she turned around, a reporter was staring dead at her and coming her way. "I have nothing to say. Excuse me." Priscilla said before the reporter even got the question out good enough and ran in the opposite direction, standing upon a wall to catch her breath. She didn't want to seem like she was disobeying her Patrician because she really wasn't. But she just hoped that Edmund didn't see the reporter or get the wrong impression from that display.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Edmund P. Gray Character Portrait: Priscilla Johnson Character Portrait: Canan Character Portrait: Xena Dawn

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Silas pressed the glass into the bar's top, sliding it across the surface with a force he hadn't intended to use.

"Something strong," was all he requested as he lifted his hand and watched the bartender lift his glass from the counter. For a while, he watched as she began the makings of some sort of mixed drink, but Silas lost his focus quickly thereafter and looked upward, through the glass ceiling. Night had already fallen over Arcadia, but the courtyard was well-lit, made to look like it was perpetually just moments before sunset. It gave the garden more intimacy, but it prevented full anonymity. He enjoyed that - being able to see who addressed him throughout the night. It made it easier to keep track of his guests.

Silas looked over the courtyard now, his eyes scanning the tops of hedges for Canan. He turned just moments after she had tugged on his sleeve, calling his attention back to her. His eyes lingered on her as he took in her appearance which, truly, had never ceased to amaze him. How delicate she was, her two legs like spindles beneath a thin torso. It worried him sometimes, when he laid with her, that he would harm her. She was over a foot shorter than him, and the juxtaposition between the two was nearly comical.

He might have reached out and traced the swirls of gold that twisted about her body like an endless maze, but his reach was interrupted by the flower crown she presented, which brushed against his fingertips electrifyingly.

"It's beautiful," he breathed, taking in gently in his hands as though afraid of crushing it. Gingerly, he turned it in his hands before lifting it and placing it on her strawberry blonde tresses. As he let his hands fall away, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned forward. "You look lovely, pet." Bending to her height had a tendency to be an ordeal, but he did so anyway and placed a kiss against her forehead. One hand brushed against the small of her back as he did so, but only to stabilize her.

A voice to his side brought him back into the moment, and he pulled away as he turned to face Edmund. His hand fell from her back slowly, hesitatingly. "Good evening, Edmund," he returned, picking up his drink from the bar. "Thank you - always a pleasure to share this night with such...lovely company." His eyes skirted back towards the reporter who had just harangued him, hoping Edmund would pick up on the gesture without him having to be blunt. He heard the approach of another man whose name he couldn't recall, but his presence was quickly shut down as Edmund continued to speak.

"Certainly," he continued, the force of his words convincing the man to look elsewhere for a conversation. "It seems colder each year, I swear." He enjoyed the presence of the younger man - he was talented and seemed to exude potential in a way that Silas could relate to specifically. It had certainly been part of the reason he owned a few of Edmund's pieces.

His eyes flitted to Priscilla, and he accepted her compliment with a smile as he raised the drink to his lips. The bartender certainly understood what he meant, and, for sure, the beverage burned sharply as it trailed down his throat. For a moment, his head swam as he gathered his words.

"Thank you, my dear," he returned, inclining his head in acknowledgement. He followed her for a moment before reaching out to Edmund. "Let's walk." He brushed the other man's elbow, guiding him after him in a friendly manner. He switched his drink to his other hand and reached down with one hand to take up Canan's hand as he led the two of them through the hedges.

It was as they walked that Xena intercepted the small group. "Do I?" He asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow dramatically to make it quite clear that he had caught on to her sarcasm but did not take offense. Even if he had, he wouldn't have conveyed it - there were certain things that he had learned to not fight. "'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown', right? Proverbial crown, of course. And yet, still a very real weight." He gave a soft laugh at his own comment.

"However, you didn't hear that from me," he said, taking a seat on a circular bench, perfect for the group to converse without Silas having to worry as much about the invigorated reporters. The drink was certainly helping as well. "As far as anyone is concerned, it's all under control." He looked over at Canan for a moment, pursing his lips before taking another long sip.

"But you look well," he offered to Xena, looking back at her now. "Wonder if I would have done better in medicine - probably wouldn't have. Politicians aren't good for much more than talking circles." He paused, pressing his lips together for a moment.

"What a time we live in."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Edmund P. Gray Character Portrait: Canan Character Portrait: Xena Dawn

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#, as written by Inuiri


His words alone were enough to send little jolts of happiness through her, her face instantly splitting into a smile as she giggled, happily leaning up on her toes to reach the crown. Stepping nearer, she slipped her arms around his neck briefly, cheek squished against his as she smiled brightly. Her lips brushed over his jaw, just barely enough to be considered a kiss. “Thank you sir..” Canan murmured, lashes - covered with infinitesimally small diamonds - fluttering shut and brushing his cheek.

When his attention turned from her, she fell quiet, fingers absentmindedly curling against him as she let her eyes wander, simply nodding to the others of higher status than her when they approached her Master. Her ears pricked up at the mention of the cold, subconsciously pressing closer to Silas as she tugged her furs tighter around her lithe form, too susceptible to the cold even safe indoors.

Silas’ hand pulled her from her thoughts, pale eyes turning up to him as she followed blindly, hardly even acknowledging Xena before she realized she was being rude. Canan turned to her, leaning her head on Silas’ shoulder and giving a small wave, quickly distracted by the flowers. She knew nothing of their talks, of the protests, of the fact that people even thought there was something wrong with Gildeds. Her life was perfect. She grew up happy, completely blind to the abuse she was put through, gladly accepting it all.

Something as small as catching Silas’ eye again made her porcelain features light up, tucking her feet under her thighs as she curled into his side, carefully running her fingers over the collar made of sapphires.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Magnolia T. Krane Character Portrait: Edmund P. Gray Character Portrait: Rosemary Eleanor Darcy Character Portrait: Alanus McCloud Character Portrait: Canan Character Portrait: Xena Dawn Character Portrait: Amias Vennum

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Amias Vennum

Amias Vennum was used to going to parties for political or financial gain, but very rarely was he allowed to simply relax. New Year Parties were a time he would put the world’s problems away and if for one night just enjoy himself. However this party however was much more enjoyable for Amias as he listened to the bustling chatter and gossip about the recent protests against owning Gilded. Amias could only smile as he sipped a glass of Chardonnay and savored the vanilla like flavor. Amias had his fair share of reporters approach him earlier today inquiring on his opinion about the situation. Being known as a Gilded Civil Rights representative he told them he welcomed the opinions of others and would remain supportive of the protests so long as they remained civil demonstrations.

Though considered a wise representative Amias had his share of naysayers and was sure this would cause some gossip to circulate among the other Anti Gilded Rights Patricians. No doubt there would be some plots to undermine him, politically or financially, But let them come, Amias had faced much worse than backroom politics and he could deal with whatever they threw at him. For now he was content to just enjoy things and let the world be for tonight. Amias looked around the mansion which belonged to his host Silas. The antique design of the mansion did indeed stand out among the others in this district, but so did Amias whose design was more reminiscent of classical Greek architecture. As he admired the house he took in the guests whom had attended the party. Normally his daughter Antoinette would have attended with him, but this year she had wished to celebrate the new year at a friends party.

So tonight he had taken Magnolia with him as company. Normally he wouldn’t have considered owning a Gilded, but without a mother figure in her life Amias had wanted Antoinette to have some constant female company other than the maids. Not to mention Amias would like to have some female company just to laugh, talk and admire with. So he had entered into an agreement with Magnolia, companionship in exchange for a comfortable living. From a business perspective it was a deal most people would kill to have. Amias had given her a lavish accommodations, delectable food, even free education when he later found out her ambitions. All of this he gave her for next to nothing, just as long as she made herself at home as a companion.

Despite her multifaceted personality she fit in just perfectly with their little family. Antoinette had taken to her with enthusiasm and enjoyed spending time with her. She was like a sister and sometimes mother to Antoinette, someone whom she could talk with, spend time with and though he didn’t like it, confide in things she didn’t want to with Amias. Amias also enjoyed her quirky personality and found her quite beautiful to look at. He especially liked it when her temperamental side came out as she was so amusing to watch in this state. He also found her very attractive in appearance and if he had met her some twenty years ago he would have attempted to seduce her. But he was much wiser now and though it was not impossible for him to pursue her she was better off enjoying the romantic attention of someone more her age and Amias someone of his own age.

Amias sighed and pushed such thoughts aside as he continued to look around. He spotted Silas with his Gilded along with others. One he recognized as Edmund Grey, a well known artist and owner of one of the prestigious art galleries. The woman he didn’t recognize but she was quite the eye catcher. Deciding to intrude upon this congregation Amias began making his way over to the group, his wood cane announcing his presence with it’s clicking tempo. “Quite the party you have arranged Silas.” he said. “I suspect this will be a celebration to be remembered for quite some time.”

He looked to Edmund and nodded, “Mr. Grey, good to see you were able to attend the festivities.” Amias turned to the beautiful blond woman, “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you miss?” He asked.


Alanus McCloud

The atmosphere was filled with giddy laughter, high spirits and everything short of drunken revelry. Here were people who lived the high life without a care for what others thought or even for the concern of others. It was revolting and sickened him to no end to see these pompous, arrogant creatures whom were the leaders of humanity’s last bastion of civilization. Alanus’ lips twisted in a disgust as he slowly roamed the courtyard outskirts, doing as much as he could to avoid drawing attention to himself. Alanus wanted to be among these people as much as he wanted to gouge out his own eyes. But thanks to his new Patrician he found himself now among the wolves. Unlike his previous “Master” as he was so fond of being called, Xena Dawn was more lenient and considerate. But Alanus didn’t let his guard down with her, he learned long ago Patricians were never to be trusted.

Alanus looked paused to look over the guests of the party, Patricians along with their Gilded were in large attendance tonight with some reporters. He turned his attention to the Gilded who walked among them, many of them enjoying the festivities, others just keeping to themselves. One girl whom he saw with what appeared to be an important man handed him a crown of flowers of which he put on her head. He basked in the affection this girl showered upon him like some giddy school girl as the circulated around. How could she be so at ease? How could she act like she was some girl with her boyhood crush and not like some slave? It was something Alanus could never understand, how one could willingly become part of a society that treated them as nothing but possessions. Alanus had been forced into his position and resented every moment.

His last owner had forced him into indentured service, forced him to be something he didn’t wish, branded him, humiliated him, practically tortured him. It was a time of Alanus’ life where he almost wished to die but his stubborn nature had forced him to live through it until his Patrician died. Ironic how he had died by the position of one of the creatures Alanus had trained for him. Though he had warned him many times a Black Manba was very dangerous but the man had dismissed his warnings and paid the price. There were still some who thought Alanus had somehow arranged for the man to be bitten or even poisoned him personally. But no evidence was found and as Alanus said, as much as wanted to he didn’t kill the man.

Though this didn’t stop such dark thoughts from entering his mind, such as wondered how many of the Patricians in this room a little of the snake's venom could kill. It would be as simple as spiking the punch and then just watch the results, but such thoughts were best left unexplored. A sound of footsteps caught his attention and Alanus turned to see one of the reporters approaching him, “Excuse me good sir, I’d like to hear your take on GAAHHH!” The reporter jumped back as a growling next to Alanus caused the reporter to turn pail, “Leave.” Alanus said. The woman didn’t think twice as she turned tail and ran away. He turned back to the creature to his left, “Good boy.” He said as he pet the creature. Himeji was a wolf pup Alanus had raised during his last tenure and it had become his most loyal companion. He brought him to the party mostly for companionship but also gave the excuse to Xena it would help boost her prestivue to be seen with a tamed beast like a wolf. And indeed it did draw attention, not just to Xena but to himself.

Himeji mostly kept him company but he also scared off the party goers who ventured close to ask him questions or interact with him. Of the few who managed to last more than ten seconds had assumed he was a Patrician. Now Alanus was dressed in a tailor made suit with a black tailcoat jacket, white starched shirt with waistcoat, black trousers and dress shoes. But it covered his Gilding marks and his gloves insured they remained hidden. This explained how he was mistaken for a Patrician but even so it didn’t make him any less annoyed when he was compared to those monsters. Alanus sighed, he was getting angry and it was best not to let that anger grow, maybe a drink was in order. Hopefully the non alcoholic drinks weren’t spiked yet as he didn’t like alcohol. As Alanus moved to leave the outskirts Himeji suddenly perked up, looked around and walked off in a random direction, “Himeji.” Alanus said firmly, trying to get the wolf’s attention. But it was no use as Himeji continued his search for whatever he was looking for. Alanus followed the wolf as he walked along the outskirts before coming up behind a woman in a green laced gown with a black skirt.

Himeji pushed his snout into the small of woman's back as he sniffed her intently, taking in her natural scent over her perfume, which Alanus could smell had a flowery scent to it, “Himeji, heel!” Alanus said before he came behind the wolf and pinched the wolf’s neck. Immediately the wolf stopped what he was doing and sat down on the spot. Alanus made sure Himeji wasn’t going to do anything before looking towards the woman, “My apologies, my companion must have been very curious to seek you out.” He said with a calm look. Alanus noted the gold gilding on the woman’s arms and thighs, indicating she was a Gilded.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Buchanan Character Portrait: Edmund P. Gray Character Portrait: Canan Character Portrait: Xena Dawn Character Portrait: Amias Vennum

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He held an arm about Canan as she curled into his side. She was virtually dwarfed by a combination of her thick furs and Silas's presence in the circle. He moved his hand against her arm, brushing the furs into her delicate skin as if hoping to generate more warmth for the fragile girl. A finger caught in a strand of her hair, and he curled it about his index finger before letting it fall against her back.

"Age could most certainly be a factor," he remarked, smiling to himself. He would be thirty-five in less than two weeks, and the thought seemed to haunt him throughout the past however many days. In relation to his peers, he certainly was young, and he couldn't argue with that, but thirty-five seemed like a much larger number, like he should have done something by now and he hadn't. Or, at least, he hadn't done anything that he had planned on accomplishing. But now wasn't the time for some sort of midlife crisis.

He drained whatever remained in the glass, and his head swam once more as he looked up and met Edmund's gaze. "The murmurs are enough, I imagine," he replied, crossing one leg over the other. "I couldn't say how they will progress...I could hardly imagine they are...far from over." Edmund's own worry was reflected in his tone, but he quickly remediated that, aware that he was revealing too many of his thoughts at once. He couldn't create some sort of panic over this - not until he had some sort of plan.

"Unbelievable...is a good way to put it." And it was, truly, for if he had been told the same thing, he would have scoffed. A farm boy, hardly capable of affording a primary education, had no place in politics. And yet here he was.

But Xena's comment saved him from dwelling on the riots of his childhood, and he quickly turned his attention to her, grateful for the chance to speak of something less overwhelming. He laughed at her sharp retort, returning her smile with one of his own.

”And which would you say I do possess, Dr. Dawn? Or is it neither? I'd say that seems to be the case for most of my peers.”

He regretted saying that as quickly as it had left his lips, for Amias joined the group, accompanied by a gentle tapping from his walking stick. It was not Amias he had referred, but he felt like a deer in headlights nevertheless, caught in a faux pas. Perhaps he hadn’t heard, and Silas certainly decided to play it off as such.

”You flatter me, Amias,” he replied. Giving Canan a gentle pat on the thigh, he stood, hoping the gesture had come off as a warning for her to sit up for a moment as he stood and extended his hand to the man. As Amias likely took his hand, Silas pulled himself closer to the man and wrapped his left arm, still holding the empty glass, around the older man's shoulders. "It certainly already seems to be one for the books. What a day we've had already." Silas pulled back from Amias as he spoke and gestured to a seat nearby him as he began to sit back next to Canan.

He kept to himself as Xena greeted Amias. The brief reply gave him a moment to press a kiss into Canan's hair, a gesture that could be interpreted platonic to those around him but held more significance for the Patrician and the Gilded. It was over as quickly as he had engaged, and he turned his attention back to Amias and Xena.

"This is Amias Vennum, Xena," he interjected, feeling as though his responsibilities as host were being shirked. "Representative for the Republic, among other things. A fine man, I would say." Though he was still trying to make up for his flub earlier - which Amias, perhaps, hadn't even caught on to - what he said now was the truth. He did admire the man - a war hero, a upstanding example of challenging the status quo. It was quite easy to lose oneself in Arcadia, but Amias hadn't.

Satisfied with his introducing of the two, he settled back slightly into his seat. Quite swiftly, he was regretting his choice of beverage.