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 Regan Lassiter on May 8, 2023 21:04:51 GMT -5
Regan happily let @warren take over. Her anger still bubbled sourly under the surface, mixing in a toxic slew with bitter embarrassment. She allowed herself to be guided into the back room—the one that Othello had intended for her. She didn’t realize that’s what it must be until the door closed behind her. But the modest single bed was pushed up against the wall and paired with an odd assortment of mismatched furniture.
Her cheeks were still feverishly hot. Had her buried desire for a home—for a family, or at least an imitation of it—really blinded her? Othello clearly didn’t understand their world. He was willing to step over the boundaries she thought she’d made so crystal clear. This ill-conceived party was only one symptom of a greater problem: Othello still didn’t understand his place, and Regan was as much to blame as he was.
“This is my fault,” Regan spluttered when Warren took her wrist, “I thought he was ready. I thought that he—he had more sense.” She folded against him, a frustrated fist balling up in his shirt.
Kasper is young enough to fall under the werewolf curse, yet it is dormant. Should the curse be activated his wolf form will be that of a white shaggy fur color keeping his smallness even though he is still rather large for a werewolf. His eyes also retain their green color.
Post by Kasper Van Zant on May 8, 2023 21:46:08 GMT -5
Kasper being basically poor pure Skia trash didnt shy away when the shouting and hollering happened, no he was glued and he heard every word hung on them even. This was the most over dramatic bunch of folks he'd ever seen and Kasper just really didn't give a shit, plus he wasn't leaving, sometimes they presented a golden opportunity, he was pilfering the gifts, "I think that was someone's plus one," he finally spoke and it was to his sisters indication of the dog (the only decent fellow at the party), "I think that big guy needs to get seriously laid, whoa, jack pot," a crate of liquor!
"ooh, I'm hawking this," he slipped a few items small enough for his pocket, "mine," something else, "got a few months of rent here..."
Warren wrapped his arms around her as she leaned against his chest, rubbing her back in further effort to calm her. He knew that she was still angry, upset, maybe hurt by what Othello had screamed at her. But Warren stood just on the outside of the argument, and he saw the intention of both. Though he might have thought himself blatantly biased toward Regan, he found himself somewhat disappointed on behalf of Othello's efforts as well.
So, after a moment, he spoke quietly again. Though clearly cautious with his words. "You're justifiably upset," he began. "I agree that he went about this the wrong way, and there is no excuse for what he said to you. But...Regan," he lifted one of his hands to push her hair back. "Not only is this not your fault, but I would argue that this is not a reflection of a lack of training, or even a lack of sense. Othello meant well. He was just trying to celebrate you in his own way."
She wasn't sure just how long they'd been gone, but she didn't think it was very long by the time she walked back in with Othello Allemeade slumped over the back of her summons. Looked like most folks had cleared out, given that the only folks she could see when she walked in the door were @berengar, @katerina and Kasper Van Zant at a glance. She didn't know if or where anyone else was and she didn't particularly care. She also didn't care that there was currently an open cut on her hand either.
"He passed out in th' street. Any o' y'all got an idea where 'is room would be?" She wasn't speaking overly loudly addressed all three of them, in case she woke up the drunken man, and was scanning the doors for one that looked like it might be long to the passed out man.
Kat looked around to who had brought the dog as their date, and her eyes landed on Stormcrest. And she burst out laughing. It was entirely too perfect, of course his date was a dog. "You're plus one is a dog Stormcrest? Better than a bitch I suppose." Bursting out laughing she gave the dog two pats before @elletta stormed back into the house with Othello.
"Fuck if I know, pick one and put him in bed." Surely little Benji was used to far crazier shenanigans. "Or we an wake him up... OI OI! Othello!" Shouting with a bottle in her hand, Kat was truly her gutter rat self. It was fun sometimes, especially when you were soon going to lose your twin to assignments waiting in the wings.
Winters gave Artos the attention he desired, earning herself pleased canine kisses from the puppy and a narrow-eyed look from the person who’d brought him here. Kasper Van Zant lingered near the tables, not so subtly - at least not to another street rat who had grown up stealing - slipping some of the unwanted gifts into his pockets. Both were drunk. Ber was far too sober to be dealing with any of this, so he decided to just keep his head down and keep tidying up as best he could despite the rather obnoxious antics of the twins.
Othello would be in for a miserable time whenever he sobered up, so the least Ber could do was try to leave behind a clean house. That, and it was something to do while he waited for Regan Lassiter and @warren to re-emerge from the back room. The captain could evaporate for all he cared, but Ber had something he was hoping to say to his friend before he left.
And it was very different in tone to what just got hollered across the room at him by @katerina . With prickling annoyance, he turned to fire back a retort, but he was interrupted by the loud return of Haider and an unconscious Othello. Ber had no clue which of the rooms was Champion’s, but he’d seen which one Regan and Woodwick had disappeared into. In case the closed door wasn’t indication enough, however, he pointed @elletta away from it. “Over there,” Ber said, gesturing with a handful of glassware as he raised his voice enough to at least be heard despite Winters’ shouting. “Or leave him in here on the couch and maybe Winters will wake him up if she doesn’t deafen the rest of us first.” She really was incredibly irritating at the best of times, which these were certainly not.
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 9, 2023 10:13:01 GMT -5
Regan sank into Warren’s calming presence. Her anger dwindled to frustration the longer he held her. The needy creature that she was, Regan wanted to reach for more of him. To transform the moment into something that provided a more powerful distraction. Her chin tipped up to face him as she brushed her hair back.
“It’s not about me. He can say to me whatever he likes,” Regan’s tone was still bitter and tense with frustration, “But for him to bring harlots among senior soldiers? To ask those without coin to spare to bring—bring gifts for me they can’t afford? That has consequences for people like Zarha. For Ber. For you—” Regan swallowed, shaking her head, “If that’s his 'way', then something’s gotta be done to change it.”
Last Edit: May 9, 2023 10:13:48 GMT -5 by Regan Lassiter
Elletta was pointedly ignoring the twins, because one was drunk and because the other was stealing the gifts that she felt that Regan did not deserve to have at this point after she yelled at Othello in his own home. Maybe it was uncharitable, but she didn't particularly care right now. She hardly ever interacted with the Huntsman anyway so it's not like her feeling would ever affect anything anyway. Besides, she was good at behaving professionally when in uniform anyway.
Speaking of, apparently she was here where @berengar pointed so she was definitely not going to approach that door at all. "Thanks. I'll join ya once I get 'im in 'is bed, help ya clean the place up a bit."
It took a couple tries but she eventually found Othello Allemeade's bedroom so she called her summons over, who padded over to follow her into the room and she shut the door. She pulled the sheets back from the top of the bed to the end of the bed before pulling the man off the back of her summons to land on the bed. The summons was dismissed and she paused for a moment before she sighed and bent down to take the man's shoes off.
"Ughh it can't be that hard to find the room." Kat hadn't noticed that Elletta had already found the room, so she staggered over to a door towards the back. She had helped the guy find the place and remembered there had been a bedroom there. And so she stumbled over and flung open the door.
Finding Warren and Regan. Classic, and while unsurprising, stomach turning. And so she promptly vomited on the floor.
"Nope, not this one, already occupied." Rolling her eyes she stumbled back towards the drinks table and decided she needed more. Because she had no plans to dwell on how all of her superiors probably were sleeping with Regan and hated her now. Great, she was never going to get anywhere in the military now. But instead of thinking about that she turned to @berengar "Stormcrest have you ever had sex?"
Although Ber successfully pointed Haider away from the room Regan and Woodwick currently occupied, Winters did not get - or, more likely, blatantly ignored - the hint and barged right in. Irritation flaring, Ber stared after her from where he was exiting the kitchen, and he very nearly turned around and re-entered the kitchen when he recognized the sound of wrenching. If Woodwick or Regan didn’t kill her, he thought he might just do it himself.
The question @katerina shouted across the room at him, as she stumbled over to consume even more alcohol, only deepened the sentiment. “What the fuck, Winters?” He snapped back, eyes narrowed as he pointedly avoided answering the question. “That’s none of your business, first off. And if that’s you trying to volunteer, I’m not fucking you.”
Ber did not notice that Artos, who had followed @katerina to the door, had taken on clean-up duties of his own. For a dog, no one was more interesting than a pile of vomit.
"People make mistakes, that's how they learn. In the last few seasons he's been expected to learn what we've spent our whole lives being taught. His intentions were good, the execution was just..." he restrained the laugh that had been threatening to escape. He didn't want Regan to think he was mocking her, or making light of the situation. But it was funny in a way. "It wasn't quite right."
Hands moving up to her shoulders, he pushed her slightly away, so he could look at her better. "Don't be too hard on him. I have a feeling he'll be upset enough with himself once he's of clearer mind. As for you, I would tell you to be easier on yourself as well, but we both know how well you take that advice. At least --" before he could finish his sentence, the door was flung open and a clearly drunken Katerina Winters stepped in. Warren turned, lifting a brow. "Officer Winters, if you wouldn't --" he was interrupted again, and this time he just sighed, hands on his hips, watching her stumble away. It had happened fast, like most awkward drunken moments.
Then, "Artos, no, bad!" He stepped forward, avoided the vomit and grabbed up the heavy pup, naturally pointing his mouth outward and away from Warren's face. Now he really couldn't help but laugh at how truly ridiculous the whole thing had turned out. Had this been some kind of official military function, Warren might have reacted differently. Barked orders, punished people, etc. Instead, it felt incredibly similar to his own chaotic family gatherings.
Turning back to Regan, he offered his free hand and nodded his head toward the rest of the house, insisting they leave the now foul smelling room. "I'll handle Ms. Winters, and we'll just...hire someone to come clean this up. I'll take care of it." If she took his offered hand, he'd help her to step over the vomit and out of the room. He'd move first to @berengar, ignoring the clearly tense argument that had begun and handing Artos to the younger soldier. Every following word was spoke less like a Captain speaking to his soldiers, and more like an adult speaking to young children, scolding them for doing something disappointing.
"Take the dog, Stormcrest, and get him some water to rinse his mouth out." He began, for once glad to have the puppy far away from him. "Sergeant Kasper Van Zant, take Officer @katerina and leave, please, before she get's sick again. Or, apparently, harasses her subordinate." He said, shaking his head though he remained firm, watching both Van Zant's until they left and standing as a physical barrier between them and Regan and Ber. "I'm quite sure the party is over."
Kat was incredibly insulted. Apparently everyone thought she wanted to fuck Stormcrest because she had asked a question she asked plenty of people before. It was rude honestly. Bringing up sex didn't mean she wanted it. And she had every plan to clarify. "Ewww." That did it, maybe vomiting again might help but she had already done that once.
And then high and mighty @warren decided to judge it. And that was even more annoying than Stormcrest thinking she wanted to fuck him. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. That was not something that was going to fly. Especially after she had found him and Regan together. All touchy-feely, lovey-dovey. Like a sweet little couple calming each other down. Corny.
"Stop projecting Woody Woodwick. Not all of us want to fuck our subordinates." Her eyes landed on Regan, her insinuation quite fucking clear. And she grabbed a couple of bottles to stumble her way out, not really caring about his opinion on her on anyone elses in the room. Except her twin but that went without saying.
Elletta was pointedly ignoring the mess going on in the other room as she finally got the man's shoes off and put them at the end of his bed. She could've left it at that but unfortunately, she actually liked the asshole and didn't want him to choke or strangle himself in his sleep so she worked at undoing his tie and the first couple buttons so that it wasn't tight at his throat. She wasn't going to be able to manage to get him out of his jacket so she didn't bother with that and instead worked on turning him on his side, just in case given that he'd apparently drunk enough to pass out while standing.
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 May 10, 2023 8:09:08 GMT -5
Othello was out of it and there would be no waking him no matter the silly things going on around him in his home. Elletta was having her hands full moving around all his large dead drunk weight but as she rolled him to his side something of a drunk mumbled whimper escaped, "don't leave me...," followed by loud paint peeling snores.
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 10, 2023 8:53:58 GMT -5
Regan was being lulled not so much by the substance of Warren’s argument but by the sound of his voice. Though she was still unconvinced, her shoulders dropped and her hands flattened against his chest after releasing their hold on his jacket. They stayed there as he held her back. Regan’s dark, gooey treacle eyes gazed up at Warren as if he could repair all the ills in the world if he had just talked long enough.
And then @katerina did what she did best—show up where she wasn’t wanted.
The rancid smell of vomit spread quickly throughout the room, making Regan want to vomit herself. Immediately she was on edge again. With a sour face, she watched Kat leave. With a frustrated sigh, she took Warren’s hand—not because she needed it to navigate Kat’s puddle but because she wanted it. Regan followed Warren into the other room, trying to figure out just what the hell had become of the once-party. Her eyes drifted around the room which now looked like a warzone. Regan’s brow furrowed a little, saddened by the wreckage, but quickly hardened to an angry wrinkle when Kat decided to open her mouth again.
“The only subordinate here is you, Winters,” Regan hissed, eyes narrowing as she took a few steps toward Kat with her hands clenched at her sides, “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll drop what’s not yours and watch your tongue.”
It was good that Warren stood between them. Otherwise, Regan might have torn the bottles from Kat’s hands herself. Had every soldier in Nevermere lost their mind?