The peace that formerly reigned in Terra Nova has eroded, now little more than a memory. War ravages the continent. Disputes divide kingdoms; ideals divide families. The quest for power consumes absolutely and indiscriminately. None are immune to its allure.
Who will rise and who will fall? Only time—and ambition—will tell.
UPDATES
05.26.2023
2 month character creation hold for all existing members begins 6/5/2023. Ended 8/5/2023.
10.29.2023
Change in how times flows. Was 4 IC seasons, now only 2 IC seasons per 1 OOC year.
5 whole years of Heir Apparent goodness! When I started the site, I knew I was hunkering down for the long haul, but I never could have predicted the numerous twists and turns this roleplay site has seen. Hundreds of plots, characters, and members have come and gone, all leaving marks on the site. I am so very thankful for those who have invested. Because you keep coming back, keep getting on, and keep writing, Heir Apparent has the legacy it does today. Three cheers to us!
Once Othello was all tucked in for the night, Regan gave her instructions to the guards at his door. He was immobilized and, while that didn’t make for comfortable sleeping, shouldn’t give the guards any trouble. Regan, meanwhile, needed a bath. She doused herself in icy water and scrubbed her skin as if she could wash the mistakes of Coheed away. Once she was mostly dry and in fresh clothes, she headed straight for the Delaney’s kept place in Skia. To Grant.
Regan, pack slung on her back, arrived claiming “official business” — an excuse that was about as transparent as the blush on the woman’s face. It was late, late enough that the fires had been lit against the nip of the night air.
The servant would fetch Grant Delaney, who was mercifully the only one presently “in residence.” Kennet Caern was the only one Regan had to fear, but she was hopefully occupied with other things.
Post by Grant Delaney on Nov 7, 2022 19:41:24 GMT -5
Grant came to the door once he was summoned, confused.
As one might expect of someone of his bloodline, Grant didn't seem to have much in the way of casual wear that wasn't more than a little military looking, but he was definitely out of his uniform for a change.
He'd gotten off without getting hurt too bad in Coheed despite the plan immediately going up in Regan-shaped flames. The potion he'd taken did its job and now he barely even felt like he'd been hit with a shard of metal going several hundred feet per second.
He looked the King's Huntsman up and down, stepping back to let her in. "You don't look very official," he said.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Nov 7, 2022 19:52:22 GMT -5
When Grant appeared, Regan was, for a moment, speechless. She stared at Grant like a tongue-tied teenager, cheeks coloring in the fall air. Eventually, she made her feet move past the threshold, eyes searching for any nosy servants or unwanted onlookers. There was one—an old man that shuffled out of sight—so Regan decided better safe than sorry.
“I, uh, no I guess not,” Regan cleared her throat, turning to look at Grant, “Is there somewhere we could, uh, talk?” She was, obviously, incredibly smooth. Very inconspicuous. Not at all suspicious. She shifted a little, feeling the prickle of anxious claws on her fingertips.
Post by Grant Delaney on Nov 7, 2022 20:06:56 GMT -5
Grant resisted the urge to be smug, though he couldn't help but be amused.
"Sure do," he said, closing the door behind her. "Ranger business again, then?" he asked, smiling a little too eagerly at her as he headed back to his particular quarters.
Then again there was always the chance this was official business and something was about to get very silly, but Grant was hoping he was reading the signs right.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Nov 7, 2022 20:17:23 GMT -5
“Yeah. A debrief of sorts.” Regan tried for playful but didn’t quite make it, as it seemed entirely possible that at any moment her bones might break so that a wolf stood in her place. She was trying very hard to keep her footsteps in a slow and careful march, but she found herself rushing one after the other.
When they reached Grant’s quarters, Regan shuffle in quickly. As soon as the door closed she’d drop her pack on the ground and kiss him fiercely.
Post by Grant Delaney on Nov 7, 2022 20:52:07 GMT -5
Oh. A debrief. Well shit.
"Right," he said, following along. Maybe they'd fucked something up? Grant was sure he didn't, because he didn't do much at all besides get hit with some stray metal, and he refused to believe Regan did anything wrong since they got the fucking Gifted even if he proved a little more trouble than--
Grant was not given much more time to think about this after he closed his door because the debrief was just a terrible metaphor and he was rapidly switching where all the blood flow was going while he grabbed Regan, returning the kiss in kind.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Nov 7, 2022 21:13:24 GMT -5
Regan growled audibly, balling up her clawed hands in Grant’s shirt as she tried to push the rumbling wolf back into its corner. She had a couple of different items on her agenda and was frantically trying to get them all in order before her senses left her entirely.
“You okay? You hurt?” Regan asked breathlessly as she started to check him herself.
Post by Grant Delaney on Nov 7, 2022 21:23:22 GMT -5
Grant's mouth was free again though by now he had lifted Regan off her feet and made it a few steps before she was patting him down. He paused, having to parse her statement very slowly.
"..uh, no, should I be?" he asked, blinking, military brain turned way the hell off in favor of baser instincts.
There were new scars, sure, but curreently his former partner and best pal was clinging to the shirt that was hiding them.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Nov 7, 2022 21:38:46 GMT -5
”No—“ Regan said breathlessly, also losing brain cells by the second, “I just never got to ask.” Her fingers loosened the buttons on Grant’s shirt until it slid off his shoulders. The growl surfaced again as she lightly traced whatever scars where were to find.
“Grant, I need you to do something for me.” There was a hungry, desperate look in Regan’s amber-veined eyes.
Post by Grant Delaney on Nov 8, 2022 20:03:45 GMT -5
"Okay, right," said Grant, blinking, most of his chest exposed all of a sudden.
The scarring wasn't too bad but it was definitely new, something that Regan, as a witch, would be able to tell had just been healed by means of potions. Also it looked like something popped out of his chest at a very high speed.
"Uh, what?" Grant asked, wondering what he could do that he didn't already plan on doing at current moment.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Nov 8, 2022 20:20:18 GMT -5
Seeing the scars hurt. Regan knew she was to blame. If it weren’t for her sloppy planning, they would have returned victorious and unscathed. She look down and traced the scar on his chest.
With each passing moment, the animal was becoming harder and harder to keep contained. Frustration mounted on frustration, both from the original failure to the thorough dressing-down Cassian had given her. Regan exhaled with a shuddering breath, the slightest hint of fangs brushing her bottom lip as she looked back up at him.
Post by Grant Delaney on Nov 8, 2022 22:10:17 GMT -5
Grant stared at her a moment, blinking as he saw her teeth and wondering why that gave him feelings in places. He looked back up at her eyes and his eyebrows raised very slightly as she spoke.
Well if she was asking, then it would just be rude to refuse.
So he tossed her onto the bed and almost tore his own shirt off.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Nov 8, 2022 22:25:00 GMT -5
Regan growled—a highly audible, distinctly wolfish growl that reverberated through the room. She panted, looking up at Grant with glowing eyes and a toothy, fanged smile. She rather hoped the servant had shuffled well off to whatever distant corner he needed to occupy himself in. Regan wasn’t terribly interested in being careful.
Post by Grant Delaney on Jan 16, 2023 22:01:36 GMT -5
[/FADE]
Grant's heartbeat went from extreme to almost halted and then sort of back to extreme. But judging by the way Regan was sucking air down like she needed it to live--for some weird reason--Grant sighed deeply.
"Easy, there," he said, next to her supine form, hovering over her.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 18, 2023 15:44:46 GMT -5
For some weird reason.
Regan sucked oxygen into her lungs with a gasp. It burned with a wonderful intensity that was almost enough to actually set her ablaze. She was still gasping as Grant gazed down at her: color in her cheeks, a grin on her face, and stars in her eyes.
“That’s fucking it,” Regan managed as she caught her breath, a satisfied growl rumbling in the back of her throat.
Last Edit: Jan 18, 2023 15:45:12 GMT -5 by Regan Lassiter