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!
The primary application of his Gift, which is Metalkinesis, is the mental control over magnetism and the manipulation of both ferrous and nonferrous metal.
Level 10; Arynnite ship with the ability to both fly and submerge fully under water. THE DROWNED CANARY.*Temporarily deactivated*
Post by Othello Allemeade on Dec 8, 2022 14:35:32 GMT -5
"I'm fixin' ta be a Champion o'Nevermere kid," Othello chuckled slapping a knee, "Me! She's tha' one doin' all tha' leg work, but anywho...I'm from Lorendale, legally, bastard of the Allemeade's....former Pirate Capn'...husband and Father, former Coheedain...current hero in trainin. ...who might you be lad? You even old'nuff to be a soldier?"
His new pants were much better, "got any fancy boots?"
Post by Regan Lassiter on Dec 12, 2022 23:20:32 GMT -5
“He’s a work in progress,” Regan countered with some sarcasm, deciding finally to turn around and see what all the hold-up was. She crossed her arms, looking Othello up and down. “And one in need of some clothes. They’ll be plenty of time for stories later.”
They had places to be, and outfitting Othello would be no small task. Plus, Regan was eyeing his unkempt beard, knowing what was going to come next.
Ber hadn’t thought his eyebrows could climb any higher. “Of Nevermere?” He looked at Othello, then over at Regan, but it didn’t seem like he was joking. He looked back at Othello, who was very much not the Nevermerean champion - or Nevermerean anything - he claimed to be.
As he handed over a new pair of pants, Ber took a moment to work through the newest spattering of sound disguised as words. The name Allemeade meant nothing to him, but from what he remembered the queen saying, Lorendale had lakes and rivers but no access to the ocean. How a bastard son from a landlocked kingdom became a pirate captain, somehow ended up married and with children in Coheed, and then found himself in Skia training to become a champion of Nevermere was beyond him. And probably above his pay grade. Lassiter certainly seemed to think so, for she turned around then, and after a glance in her direction, Ber hurried to toss Othello another pair of pants and a shirt to try on.
As he did so, he registered the follow up questions, skipping over the first to address the more pressing matter. Eyes narrowed slightly in indignation, but Othello’s was hardly an uncommon sentiment. Still, he grumbled, “I’m nineteen. I’m old enough.” He was here, wasn’t he? Just because he didn’t have a beard like the older man - which reminded him: he turned to grab a shaving kit - didn’t mean he was a kid. “And I’m Berengar Stormcrest,” He added, somewhat awkwardly, a moment later when he handed the kit over. “Just from Skia, though.” No inter-kingdom travels for this soldier. Only sifting through stinky clothes. At Othello’s request for boots, Ber said, “Depends on your definition of fancy.” But it wasn’t long before he handed over a pair of standard military boots for Othello to try, keenly aware of the Huntsman watching them.
The primary application of his Gift, which is Metalkinesis, is the mental control over magnetism and the manipulation of both ferrous and nonferrous metal.
Level 10; Arynnite ship with the ability to both fly and submerge fully under water. THE DROWNED CANARY.*Temporarily deactivated*
Post by Othello Allemeade on Dec 26, 2022 20:14:56 GMT -5
19? Othello thought he looked like a baby which also happened to be an intrusive thought as well, "a babe, nineteen weepin' lord's, I'm twenty five," Othello chuckled shaking his head at his own humor and totally unaware he had said anything but the jollyness seemed to fade when he saw the shaving kit. He wasn't smiling or chuckling anymore and the boots (very nice boots actually) weren't even enough as his hand went to his beard stroking it like it's fate was already decided, "hrm," he studied loudly shifting from hip to hip, "wha' is tha' fer? Ya ain't got nary a hair on yer face boy," he grunted finally rubbing the top of his head with a clear sense of anxiety, "Nay, nah I can do this," he looked at Regan giving her a thumbs up, "I'm fine. Righ' as rain." his voice and nervous ticks were directly contradicting his statement.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Dec 27, 2022 17:51:04 GMT -5
“Of Nevermere?”
Regan couldn’t help but smirk. Yes, perhaps at this juncture the notion that Othello was to be a champion of anything but his own foolishness was laughable. But Regan had hope. He was here, after all, and so far was humoring her with a surprising degree of flexibility.
So far, anyway.
His obvious nervousness when the shaving kit was produced surprised her. Regan raised an eyebrow before her features softened, her smile assuming a friendlier arc.
“I’m not gonna take it off completely,” Regan assured him, gesturing to a chair, “Just gonna clean you up a little.” She gestured to a chair and stepped forward, picking up the shaving kit. “Shall I do the honors?”
Call it a bonding experience, call it whatever you'd like.
Ber’s brow furrowed when the man compared him to a baby, but instead of arguing his point further, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. Whatever.
Then it was Othello’s turn to be on the back foot. The man’s clear discomfort when faced with the shaving kit distracted Ber from the comment on his own clean-shaven face, and since the request for a shave had come from the Huntsman herself, he glanced over at Lassiter. As she stepped forward and addressed the situation, he stepped back, out of the way, and was struck with two thoughts.
One: no witch had ever offered to shave Ber’s face when he joined the military.
Two: couldn’t they find somewhere to shave Othello where Ber wouldn’t be the one tasked with cleaning up the mess?
The primary application of his Gift, which is Metalkinesis, is the mental control over magnetism and the manipulation of both ferrous and nonferrous metal.
Level 10; Arynnite ship with the ability to both fly and submerge fully under water. THE DROWNED CANARY.*Temporarily deactivated*
Post by Othello Allemeade on Dec 30, 2022 8:30:41 GMT -5
Othello grudgingly climbed into the offered chair and for once Regan would notice he was completely shut up. He wore a bit of a scowl but he was quite. Not thinking of it but this was bold as it got for now in the trust department for Othe: they had him dead to rights collared and shaved like a domesticated boar. Yet it didn't deflect the security he had around the Huntsman.
Laid back in the chair his callasoued large hands moved from his beard down his neck brushing over his shiney collar making a tinking noise.
"be gentle...," he finally cracked his silence to Regan but shifted his attention back to his new friend, "Berengar wanna 'ear bout our first time meetin'? Ever seen a metal 'nado? Tell'em bout it ma'am...." he liked hearing people talk about him.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 3, 2023 21:26:19 GMT -5
Regan nodded before starting the process: sharpening the blade, and lathering the soap. Soon she was spreading white foam across Othello’s face with careful precision. There was a strange sense of ritual to it; as if from this point forward there would be no going back on this journey they were about to embark on together.
At the mention of the metal tornado, Regan rolled her eyes. “You almost killed me,” She admitted, tipping up Othello’s chin so he looked at her, “Someone had to clean up that mess at the docks, you know. Hold still—” Regan started to run the blade of the razor against his skin.
With obvious reluctance, Othello sat down while Lassiter prepared the blade. Soon she was spreading the foam and beginning her work. Ber couldn’t help but feel a little like he was interrupting something by mere virtue of existing, though he wasn’t sure what. Just that there was a sort of intimacy that necessarily came with letting someone else hold a sharpened blade to one’s own face that had him feeling somewhat like a reluctant voyeur.
Glancing away, he shifted where he stood, scratched the back of his neck, and shoved that whole train of thought to the side. A metal tornado sounded much more interesting and exciting, and if the way his mind latched onto that distraction was vaguely desperate, no one needed to know.
“You had just met, and he almost killed you,” The soldier reiterated, looking from Othello to Lassiter. “And there was a metal tornado.” His words held a combination of disbelief and a distinct lack of understanding about many parts of the very brief story of how the two of them had crossed paths. “Why was there— Wait, how was there a metal tornado? Which no, I haven’t ever seen before.” He made an incredulous half-laugh; he hadn’t even known such a thing was possible prior to a few minutes ago. He still wasn’t sure it was.
The primary application of his Gift, which is Metalkinesis, is the mental control over magnetism and the manipulation of both ferrous and nonferrous metal.
Level 10; Arynnite ship with the ability to both fly and submerge fully under water. THE DROWNED CANARY.*Temporarily deactivated*
Post by Othello Allemeade on Jan 6, 2023 19:24:52 GMT -5
When Othello smiles he felt Regan's touch on his chin push and while it slacked Othello was able to speak, "she set me fuckin' boat on fire she did, can ya blame me? Gifted boyo like me and'a shy witch gal like 'er," he often thought about that boat, "any who...I'm Gifted. I control bout near every type o'steel or iron I ever cames across..," and just like some odd omen the blade Regan used tapped the collar around his throat. They all would have heard it and Othello didn't blink but he was staring at the Huntsman and as usual just speaking out loud, "I wassa bit of'a loose cannon in me days spent in Lorendale, a bad guy," he had a bloody stain of a past that stretched from Cambria to Lorendale, Nyx...the party of Lorendale soldiers...Remiel...he hadn't thought about those blondes in Cambria in years..., "but I be workin' on it."
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 6, 2023 22:58:20 GMT -5
Yeah. They’d be working on it alright.
Regan smirked as she listened to him. Goddesses, he was one annoying son-of-a-bitch but she had the feeling he was going to grow on her like a fungus. She went about her work, gently redirecting Othello’s head as she needed to. It was interesting to get a closer look at him. At this angle, he wasn’t nearly as gruff as he appeared otherwise.
“I’d keep that bit of the story to yourself if I were you,” Regan said with a smile, “Won’t want to scare your new brothers and sisters in arms too much, now would we?” The same could be said for either of them, she supposed. Wildcards. Outsiders. Unpredictable, yet powerful all the same.
“Alrighty…” Regan stepped back and handed Othello a towel, “Wipe off.”
Ber’s eyebrows had climbed higher and higher as Othello elaborated on the story, eyes focusing in on the collar as Lassiter’s blade tapped against it. Like a lightning bolt, some semblance of understanding struck: he had a sneaking suspicion that the collar was linked to Othello’s ability - or perhaps inability, at the present time, to control steel and iron. Though the Coheedsman couldn’t see it with the way his head was positioned, the soldier was nodding along to his words.
Sidestepping potentially picking a side between someone who was definitely his superior and someone else who apparently might very well become his superior - was Champion of Nevermere supposed to be a title or an actual rank? - Ber made a noncommittal noise in response to the comment about Lassiter igniting Othello’s boat. Instead, he found himself asking another question about the man’s Gift: “So you could just, I don’t know, steal everyone’s sword on a battlefield without even moving?” Grinning somewhat, he pictured an army’s worth of swords rising upward and proceeding to hang, suspended in the air. It was an utterly ridiculous image, and yet…
“Well,” Ber said with a shrug, even as Lassiter suggested some discretion with this part of Othello’s tale. Or maybe she meant the part where he apparently almost killed her. Either way, the soldier wasn’t about to start spreading stories. “You don’t seem like that bad of a guy right now.” A small vote of confidence from a veritable stranger, whatever that was worth.
The primary application of his Gift, which is Metalkinesis, is the mental control over magnetism and the manipulation of both ferrous and nonferrous metal.
Level 10; Arynnite ship with the ability to both fly and submerge fully under water. THE DROWNED CANARY.*Temporarily deactivated*
Post by Othello Allemeade on Jan 8, 2023 15:57:52 GMT -5
"Oi, tell'em bout it friend," Othello giggled at Ber's assessment of him being good at the given time, giggled, at the both of them. When Regan was finished and told him to to clean himself off he gloated about his gift to Ber, "Oh boyo I can does a lot wif' my gift but aye tha' is the bases o'v it...tell'em 'untsman," he smiled as he cleaned himself off.
He looked at Ber arms and palms out as if exposing himself truly and not like he had when he just casually dropped his pants earlier, "do I got tha' ugly?"
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 13, 2023 14:31:31 GMT -5
Regan was still smirking, shaking her head with crossed arms. “I don’t think I will, friend.” She said the word with sarcasm, but there was a tease that lived in it. What was happening? How had she gone so swiftly from making an enemy of this man to grinning at him like she’d grinned at Grant at the start of their paring? What kind of upside-down world had she been thrown into with this man that reeked of the unwashed?
“You look good,” Regan answered, though her opinion wasn’t asked for. She looked at Ber, a kind of benign threat in her eyes, daring him to say anything different.
Ber blinked as Othello confirmed what he could do with his gift, glancing up at the Huntsman as she was invited to provide her input… which she declined to do. Sad. But not unexpected.
It was because he was looking at Lassiter that he saw look that she gave him when her charge asked for his opinion on the shave. Dark eyes flicked back to Othello. “Yeah,” He seconded the Huntsman’s statement with a small smile and a quick nod. “It looks good. You look very, um, good.” The shave wasn’t horrible… if one ignored the uneven edges and the patchiness in some spots and other signs of obvious inexperience.
Before they could linger for very long on his answer, the soldier moved on, turning back to Lassiter. “Is there anything else I can help you with, ma’am?”