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!
Post by Valeria Delaney on Feb 24, 2023 13:04:04 GMT -5
Valeria seeing all this happening, keeping an eye on the door informing a near by on-duty guard to keep a eye on things and if things get to messy get the captain commander as soon as possible (Hadrian Usher). She wouldn't be able to handle anything, she was currently pregnant so she needs to be careful. Valeria moved to more of an advantage point to keep an eye on everything.
Post by Rhedara Shannon on Feb 24, 2023 13:44:54 GMT -5
She answered @raff's question with a mischievous smile as she tugged him to a corner of the room. Once there, she turned and faced him and took a healthy swallow of her drink. With the way she was feeling, she was sure she should be swaying, but she was not in the frame of mind to care or wonder why she was still steady on her feet.
Her attention was drawn to the two singing men, one she did not know (Othello Allemeade), and the other was Aldrich Abbott. She eyed the men and the irritation that she had felt earlier came back. Aldrich Abbott had been a thorn in her side for several days...he'd nearly ruined her night at the ball, too. She was not of the state of mind to remember why she shouldn't curse the man again or that her current predicament was ultimately her own fault. She could only think that he needed to be punished. At the same time @bex muttered her spell, Rhedara whispered her curse for the drill sergeant.
Then she turned her head toward Raff who had whispered a question into her ear, she pressed her lips to his cheek, "How indeed?" she said before releasing his hand. She downed the rest of her drink and then pulled him in closer to her.
___________________________________________ Aldrich Abbott has had a curse cast on him. He will now exhibit the behavior of a territorial Mastiff dog. Rhedara's intention is for it to come off as a terrible allergic reaction with excessive drooling (like a Mastiff). Side effect of the curse is that he has a 50% chance of howling like a wolf)
Where she normally would've pulled away to maintain some kind of distance to hide the major crush she had on her friend, Elletta decided to stay right where she was instead. She even let herself lean into it a little. Then red bloomed across her cheeks. "Really?" She had certainly hoped so but hearing him say it had her heart racing.
Caught up as she was in leaning into Octavius Wulfbrand and following his lead, she missed a bit in the noise as curiousity warred with her wanting to stay where she was and to get a better look at what was happening.
When the crowd shifted around them, Ber turned to see Regan Lassiter approaching them, and his grin only grew. Given that she was the only other person here he was interested in seeing, he had been hoping to seek her out a bit later, if only to briefly compliment her on how nice she looked, but it was a pleasant surprise to see that she had sought them out herself. As she drew near, Ber turned to greet her, prepared to introduce her to Zevran if they hadn’t already met. He was tentatively hopeful that his two friends would get along well with each other: they were all outsiders, in a way. Maybe Regan would stay and visit with them, and he could have his little group of people at the ball all together for a short while.
Ten words doused the excitement and anticipation that had started rising in his chest. Not quite comprehending what he had heard, Ber turned to stare at Regan, betrayal written across his face. Zevran’s laugh, a horribly ugly sound that Ber never wanted to hear again, had his attention shifting to his friend, and every word the Dresmondi spat at the Huntsman felt like a dagger to his own heart. Because that was exactly what this was, wasn’t it? Removing Zevran solely because he wasn’t Nevermerean.
Like any soldier worth his salt, Ber knew the chain of command and understood how it worked. He knew that if he was implicitly told to stand by and watch as his friend was kicked unfairly out of a ball he’d been invited to attend, he was supposed to let it happen without complaint. Perhaps under different circumstances, he might have swallowed that bitter reality like he had so many before it, but tonight, he had far too much liquid courage running through his veins to be so sensible.
As far as Berengar Stormcrest was concerned, the chain of command could go fuck itself. And so could the person enforcing it.
With a righteous anger that only grew with every passing moment, Ber stepped forward, bristling. “Is that it,” He demanded confirmation of Zevran’s accusations, even as he knew them to be true. If she looked toward him, the sharp eyes of a street rat would stare down those of the Huntsman. “He was invited and granted permission by the king to be here.” Was all of this truly just another joke that the nobility played at the commoner’s expense, except far more malicious for its complexity? How many times had he seen it happen? Let’s play a game, Ber thought bitterly. Invite the misfit to the party, get him all dressed up, and let him stay just long enough to think he belongs before rudely kicking him out in front of everyone. After all, what’s a little public humiliation when your entire kingdom is being brutalized by monsters, right?“He’s done nothing wrong, but he’s still not good enough, he still doesn’t belong, so you’re kicking him out.”
What was the difference between Ber and Zevran, when it came down to it? A kingdom and a dyr, perhaps, but to the young soldier far more accustomed to the taverns and the training yard, they were both equally out of place in this foreign, formal environment. Adrift in a sea of finery and extravagance in the heart of his own kingdom, Ber had found that the so-called Dresmondi filth felt more like home than any other godforsaken person in this damn room. Only in Regan had he found a similar refuge - outsiders in their own ways, all of them - but she apparently only required a fancy dress and the attention of every nobleman in the room to forget where she came from and turn on the misfits, too.
“You think you’re like them because you’re wearing their dresses and drinking their alcohol?” Bolstered by a lifetime of resentment toward the upper echelons of Nevermerean society and the liquid courage urging him to fight, he looked pointedly at the gown she wore, every ounce of his previous admiration and pride replaced by betrayed disgust. There was no mistaking the venom in his voice as he spat, “Shit smells like shit, no matter how nicely you dress it up. I would’ve thought you’d learned that by now, Regan.”
In other circumstances, perhaps he would have known to not shoot the messenger, or recognized that he had equally unfairly misconstrued one friend’s accusations for the other friend’s beliefs, or never dared to so blatantly challenge someone who was very much his superior and was only following orders she couldn’t ignore. However, as it was, the messenger was the one standing before him now, and the righteous anger blinded him to any amount of reflection, and he felt very much like he could win any fight his words might spark.
Walking in with the king, wearing in a gown no street rat could ever have imagined donning, and now removing those deemed unworthy by the very standards that had caused them both so much hardship, she could pretend to be nobility all she wanted, but Ber knew where she had started and had no problems reminding her of it. After all, street rats like them stuck together.
Post by Octavius Wulfbrand on Feb 25, 2023 0:48:18 GMT -5
Octavius, arm still wrapping Elletta’s waist, was burning inside as surely as any who had had more than a single glass. Still, liquid courage didn’t convert him into liquid moron, oddly enough. His deep inner convictions and loyalties remained, even if he felt like shoving his tongue down someone’s throat (in a sexy way, ahem). Hearing the shit cleaner from the barracks speak to his friend threatened to unleash something feral in him (and little did he know, the process to release something truly feral had just begun).
“Stand down, shit bag.” He growled, the authority he assumed as a drill sergeant taking over, releasing El to shove his way up to @berengar, the man now directly before him. Had they all forgotten that they were soldiers? Did fancy clothes and free punch turn disciplined military personnel into idiots? “That is not how you address—“ but whatever else he might have said was claimed by a roar of pain as the distinct sound of his spine snapping cracked through the hall. It didn’t stop there. It was the spine, then the neck and arms. Any paired witch knew exactly what was happening. All the rest might assume he had decided to start break dancing.
Octavius managed to whimper out a name through his pain, a desperate plea for help:
In possession of a magical necklace that wards off offensive magic attacks against him, a ring that allows him to suppress magic, and can turn into werewolf at will.
Post by Cassian Rainecourt on Feb 25, 2023 1:10:03 GMT -5
From his vantage point on the throne Cassian had the ability to look out over the heads of the attendees. The military ball was something Hadrian had graciously put together to honor their military, and Cassian was more than happy to put whatever the Captain needed at his disposal to make this a successful, enjoyable night for those who served the kingdom in this context. It wasn’t a night for nobles. It wasn’t a night for foreign diplomats. It was a night to honor the military, plain and simple. When did the military get something like this, just for themselves? Never. They were constantly serving—the kingdom, its people, their king. So tonight, they were the guests of honor.
Not the Dresmondi. The process to remove him had taken time, as to be expected, but from a glance it seemed to be underway. Cassian watched with his usual expression of stone, taking sharp note of the way the Dresmondi reacted, as well as those soldiers around him who chose…well, suffice to say “who chose”.
He would not call for any further intervention. The room was filled with trained personnel. A soldier was a soldier, whether in armor or a dress.
When the tall fool began contorting his body, it took a ridiculous amount of willpower for Cassian to keep a hand from pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t yet understand what was happening to him. In fact, Cassian didn’t notice his own response, the hairs on his arm and his neck standing at attention.
How quick everything dissolved from joyous and curious words into something so much worse. How they went from watching the younger man Ber toss back his drink and then collect more for not only himself but for the two of them as well. Alys chuckled but took the glass and found herself glancing between the two of them.
When Regan Lassiter approved, she was surprised but returned the smile. She looked lovely, and Alys didn’t at first notice the tension in her shoulders. The first words out of her mouth were shocking. Almost like she spoke another language for a moment, Alys’ dark brows pinching together. Escorted out? She went to speak but Zevran was already spewing at her side. Her breath catching as her hand tightened on his arm.
When he moved forward, she tugged on his arm and took a step with him. “Wait,” her voice a bit more firm as she spoke to not only Regan but to Zevran as well. Her eyes hardening on Regan, but it seemed Beregnar was now fueled up as he started on his own words. Alys went to redirect Zevran, Rune’s growl shot Alys’ spine to snap straight. “We don’t need to raise our voices-“ but it was getting worse. Another soldier approached, hissing at them and her eyes were on him ( Octavius Wulfbrand ), “There is no need for name calling,” she scolded him, almost growling her words, when she saw his body suddenly tense.
How quickly things had changed. The potion was enough to strip down inhibitions, to make one more confident and careless than they might be otherwise. But even the pranking soldiers couldn’t have foreseen just what lurked so close beneath the surface. This potion merely magnified what was already there; and clearly, all members of Nevermere’s military were not the paragons of discipline that Terra Nova thought them to be.
In the crowded ballroom, Rhedara Shannon had dragged her date into a corner, or as much of a corner there can be in a crowded ballroom, as a curse rose to her tongue. The curse would have its desired effect: Aldrich Abbott would find himself wiping his mouth on his sleeve at intervals and potentially barking like a dog if he attempted to speak. He would know magic would be to blame; after all, it wasn’t too long ago the man had been the target of a clucking curse. As the curse was quickly and casually cast, it would not last long.
The effects of the curse will last for two of Aldrich Abbott ’s posts.
In the crowded ballroom, Zevran ’s outburst had caused quite a stir. Partygoers—soldiers, every one of them—turned to see the foreigner with @alys at his side laugh at and berate the King’s Huntsman. By the time @berengar joined the chorus, everyone in their direct vicinity had turned to watch the unfolding drama: some with confusion, some with anger, others with horror. The most closely stationed guards also started to take notice of the scene. They looked from the King’s Witch, to the Dresmondi who had been on her arm, to the commoner who had started to spit venom, prepared to intervene.
But Octavius Wulfbrand got there first. He shoved his way toward @berengar , making it to his target just as he became incapacitated by the spine-snapping pain of his transformation.
Paired and formerly paired soldiers in the vicinity (plus @alys ) would immediately realize what was happening (@faylin would be close enough to recognize it as well). The four nearest guards would see as well but would have no time to respond before Octavius Wulfbrand fully transformed into a werewolf.
And then, all hell broke loose.
@berengar would be the first within the werewolf’s reach, but there were plenty of other partygoers surrounding him. Mass panic erupted as soldiers tried to react or flee. Their fates rested with @bex now, would either have to move in and control the monster she created or hang back in the shadows—at everyone’s risk.
The guards would respond immediately, rushing for the beast. If the king didn’t already see what was unfolding from his place atop the pedestal, the watchful eyes of the guards would and they’d start to take up formation around him.
GUIDELINES
- WARNING: As we have a werewolf on the loose, we have now entered combat narration. Please make sure you are familiar with our Site Wide Trigger Warning. Things may happen to your character that you don't want or like. Characters that remain in the thread are subject to whatever combative action other characters take, so be aware that more than what you narrate may become of your character. If you are afraid of what might become of your character, your best course is to have them attempt to exit the thread.
- PREPARATION: Please note that this is a ball. No characters would have arrived with hidden potions or weapons on their person, so don’t produce them now! The guards are the only ones with weapons.
- POST TIMING: The admins will seek to post a reply every 48 hours, so please plan accordingly. Players must post at least every 24 hours. Preferably, everyone will be regularly checking this thread to see when it is their turn to go. We will not wait for your character, and if they are a central part of an exchange then they will still be factored into what is taking place. Their actions (or inaction) will be narrated by the CN.
- POST WORD COUNT LIMIT: For the sake of keeping the action the focus and the exchanges concise, please limit replies to no more than 400 words. Ideally, replies will only be about 200. This will allow for quick replies and more admin replies which will let more things happen. This means now is NOT the time to delve into the psyche of your characters. This is the time to prioritize ACTION. Please do not underline your action, as underlining tempts the reader to disregard the rest of the post when every part of what you post should count.
- POSTING ORDER:Octavius Wulfbrand in his werewolf form will go first. Then, anyone can go in any order.
Post by Octavius Wulfbrand on Feb 27, 2023 10:58:40 GMT -5
Where once a relatively goofy, definitely tall young man had stood, there was now a hulking black beast with eyes like fiery gold. The animal was just that: a feral, otherworldly abomination with only a single objective: kill. Tear, rip, destroy, yes, but ultimately, kill. Werewolves were not intelligent, loyal creatures. There was only one witch that had the slightest chance of curbing the creature, and she would have quite a time of harnessing this one. So much prey rest at his fingertips.
He wasted no time to howl or breath or any other dramatic thing. The beast launched into action. His first target was his closest: @berengar. The beast with the strength 10x that of a man would swipe at the soldier, a blow that would aim to catch him in the arm and would have the strength to send him flying if successful. On a rampage, the beast would then launch for Regan Lassiter, claws aimed to sink deeply into the chest of that pretty green gown, intending to rip her down to the floor. From there, assuming he was not incapacitated, he would launch himself at Zevran, his mouth moving to take a chunk from his shoulder as his claws would seek to rip at his spine.
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 Feb 27, 2023 11:09:50 GMT -5
It was being ruined, his perfect night at the ball was being absolutely ruined by spiked drinks: Othello was almost repulsed by the drooling man so he didn't even flinch when the man who had joined him stormed off. Othe wasn't going to let them bring him down until...
From his vantage point the Gifted man had little to worry about, his blue eyes took in the sight of something he had never once in his entire life seen before a big hairy ugly as hairy balls growling and snapping mutt he was sure had been at some point been a boy. Nevermere was full of secrets and in one night because a couple horny dumb soldiers couldn't keep their shit together exposed it all. People were fleeing past him as Othello just floated it seemed to the railing looking down, they were screaming and crying and for some odd reason this struck Othello as odd...for such a grand army the King certainly had some work to do...tsk tsk...
"oi! Whatcha running for?!" he screamed jolly as a fat kid with cake, "you're witches you silly slags! The men I get, your lot is totally useless," minus of course those that could possibly do that, but the women the witches some were fleeing? What? Daft.
"Turn around and blast the little fuzz ball! Fur burns!" he pleaded through laughter at the witches. Still Othello was feeling as brass as steel balls so he would make an attempt to get a sword from one of the Guards, "give me the sword you tiny little cunt if you're not going to do anything but protect the fucking doors," if Othello had to forcefully rip the sword from the guards hand he sure as hell would and he'd run right down those stairs yelling out, "OI BIRD! come on flea riddled fuck boy!"
Gain it's attention and hopefully the witches could incapacitate the animal.
Post by Aldrich Abbott on Feb 27, 2023 11:09:51 GMT -5
He felt that he was starting to produce more and more saliva. Uncomfortably, Aldrich wiped his mouth with his sleeve and felt a growl come up from within himself. It took him less than ten seconds to connect the dots. His eyes shot through the room, going from face to face until he saw her. Rhedara Shannon . The man jumped down from the stage and ran towards the corner she and @raff where standing in. Without even looking at the man, Aldrich attempted to grab Rhedara by the throat to push her against the wall as hard as possible.
"You", he barked at her with a deep, deformed voice. "You're going to fucking pay for this, bitch." He spat in her face, saliva still abundantly flowing from his mouth, wetting his chin and shirt. He couldn't really control his strength anymore and the only emotion he was feeling right now was anger.
If successful, he would land a blow on her nose, trying to break it (even if his attempt at grabbing her throat hadn't worked, he would still swing).
He would only start to notice what was going on with Octavius Wulfbrand once this action was finished, and for now he'd do what Regan Lassiter said: get back. He remained standing in the corner of the room.
The commotion had immediately drawn Faylin's attention, though she had been content to simply let them argue it out among themselves. That was, until she heard the snap of bone, a sound she would recognize anywhere, and her eyes widened as she watched Octavius contort in what could only be a shift.
Her cup fell to the floor, completely forgotten as she shoved her way past anyone between her and the scene, frantically searching for @katerina . It wouldn't occur to her that it could be any paired witch in the room causing Octavius to shift, because who in their right mind would take another's wolf in the middle of a ball? But she couldn't possibly fathom what the hell Kat was thinking either.
"KAT! RELEASE HIM, NOW!" she bellowed over the clamor of the crowd, every ounce of authority she could muster thrown into the command. If she would be able to get a clear view of Octavius, she would attempt a paralyzing curse to keep him from ripping into the party goers.
Last Edit: Feb 27, 2023 11:24:34 GMT -5 by Deleted
Post by Valeria Delaney on Feb 27, 2023 11:25:41 GMT -5
Valeria seeing Octavius Wulfbrand shifting, her heart was racing. noting the guards near the king move around to protect him, she tries to make her way towards Hadrian Usher when she arrived there she looked at her dad. "Commender, there is a situation at hand. We need to get people out to safety now!" There was a hint of urgency in her voice. She know she should focus on her getting to safty but she need to make sure everybody else is safe.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Feb 27, 2023 11:30:31 GMT -5
Regan would reflexively grab Zevran by the collar as he tried to push past her. She’d hear enough of @berengar ’s monologue to get the gist of it and be infuriated. But nothing was compared to the fury that sprung up in her when @alys told her to wait. Wait? Wait for what? To let this Dresmondi have a tantrum and delay her executing the orders of her king? Whose side was she on, anyway?
Ironically, that situation might have escalated if it wasn’t for Octavius Wulfbrand . Blessed Octavius.
Regan Lassiter ’s face would be up in Zevran’s as she held him. Her claws were out, literally and figuratively. If the Dresmondi tried to free himself, he’d find himself fighting against the shifter’s superhuman strength. She was fighting against the urge to toss him across the room like a ragdoll. And then she heard it; the sound that she’d heard a thousand times from Grant’s breaking body. Enough to immediately recognize it for what it was. Goosebumps sprung up on her arms and the wolf screamed under her skin.
“Everyone get back.”
Regan shouted as loud as she could, tossing Zevran to the side (likely with a good amount of force). She’d step back herself, putting distance between herself and her friend while pushing people back with her arms wide to safety. She’d be facing the beast as he emerged into his full form.
There were two needs in tension with one another. The first was the need to contain the werewolf and keep the people in the ballroom safe. It was this need that made Regan desperate to shift into her own werewolf form, one with more speed, stature, and smarts than its counterpart. The second need was one for secrecy. To keep the gift that she’d been given by Cassian Rainecourt concealed from others, just as she said she would. And for now, that need was powerful enough to honor.
Having put distance between herself and Octavius, Regan would spin the sister ring on her finger, freeing Othello Allemeade ’s gift. Perhaps others didn’t trust his loyalty to Nevermere, but Regan trusted his loyalty to her.
She’d seek to dodge and avoid the blow if possible to mitigate its damage. Then, unless she was a bleeding wreck on the floor, Regan would partially shift and try to leap onto the werewolf’s back to put the creature in a chokehold, sinking her teeth into his shoulder to keep herself secure.
Post by Zarha Sliva on Feb 27, 2023 11:31:10 GMT -5
Hearing a slight comotion and guards running towards what happening Zarha stumbled a little bit to have a look. "Oh fuck. Well i guess it not a ball without something a-rolling" A bad attempted at a joke.
Zarha lifted her hands up and started a incantations of ice and try and aim it at Octavius Wulfbrand hoping that it would be strong enough to get people away. Attempting this she hopes that this will make Octavius stick in place.
made by the wonderful Lyla
Last Edit: Feb 28, 2023 11:29:43 GMT -5 by Zarha Sliva