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 26, 2023 21:00:50 GMT -5
Regan could scarcely breathe. She tried to keep the fire at bay while still charging toward the cliff that Warren was guiding her to. It was a dance magnificent and tortuous and laced with danger. She didn’t break his gaze—not for a second, for it felt like even a momentary lapse might prove deadly. Whatever his terms were, she accepted them.
His girl. His.
“Yours…” The word fell as an unbidden whisper twisted up with a rattling, wolfish whimper.
"That's right," he said, tone quietly demanding. Maybe once they were done, and her mind was clear, she would decide otherwise. If that was what she wanted, he could deal with it then. But for now, for these few short moments, he would demand it of her. "Mine." His right hand slipped down from her wrist, fingers dragging down her arm and moving up to the side of her face as he kissed her. "Say it again." He pushed a little harder, a little faster. "Say you're mine."
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 26, 2023 21:50:29 GMT -5
“Yours.”
The word was now closer to a begging whine than actual speech. Regan’s breath came in quick gasps. Her fingertips itched as if claws would emerge, but none came. Regan reached for Warren instead of the temptation of burning. Her eyes—now alive with fireworks of flame—stayed fixed on his. In the safety that Warren offered, Regan started to come undone.
"That's it," he said, exhaling a calming breath of his own against her lips. "That's it -- Regan," he grunted, forehead against hers. "I've got you. Just let go." He released her other arm and gripped the sheets, trying to hold on just a little longer for her, with her.
Last Edit: May 26, 2023 22:10:10 GMT -5 by Deleted
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 26, 2023 22:21:16 GMT -5
And she did let go—not with fire and teeth but with parted lips and fluttering eyes. Regan gave in to something gentler than the wild desire to consume the world in flame. The sound of his voice kept her tethered to her humanity tightly enough that the heat of her skin didn’t ignite. A moan hummed through her lips as she kissed him and the fire in her eyes mixed with inky darkness.
The end came but it was not punctuated with pain or flame. Warren gave her the moment to ride the wave of feeling, unwilling to pull away until he absolutely had to. When he did, he barely had time to reach the tissues on his bedside table, but when he finished he was rolling back to meet her kiss, his hand returning to her face and looking it over, concern returning into the mixture, though the desire remained. "Yeah, I'm here," he said, rubbing over her bottom lip with his thumb. "Are you okay? Take a minute to catch your breath."
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 27, 2023 7:32:08 GMT -5
Regan’s skin was still warm, but not dangerously so. It was a heat that wrapped around them both like a blanket in a blizzard. Her eyes were now so dark they looked almost black, shining like the slick surface of a river rock. Panting, Regan nodded as girlish smile tugged at her lips.
“You alright?”
Her fingers traced slowly along Warren’s jawline as if memorizing the angle of it.
Was he alright? The question made him laugh and lean in to kiss her again. He ran his hand through her hair as he took in the sight of her like this. Home, in his bed, naked and warm and curled against him. Still his, for now. “No cuts, no flames,” he answered with humor in his tone, still catching his breath, heart still racing. Despite his weariness after the long night, he wanted little more than to keep his eyes on her for what remained of their time until morning.
His hand moved from her hair down to her back and pulled her closer against him. “I’m better than alright,” he grinned and leaned in to kiss her neck. It had been a while since he felt like this, energized and wanting more, but exhausted and sleepy at the same time.
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 27, 2023 12:55:39 GMT -5
Regan basked in the sincerity and abundance of Warren’s affection; the sureness and safety of it that was more warming than any fire. Perhaps Regan should have felt guilty. There was only so much of herself she’d ever be able to give—or so she’d convinced herself—and for Warren she wasn't sure it wouldn’t be enough. But the closeness was too soothing of a balm to resist, his laugh too addictive, his arms too sure a shelter.
So, smiling back, Regan kissed him before laying down on her side to face him and nudging him to do the same. Settling in so closely her nose brushed against this, she gazed into his eyes with a soft smile and flushed cheeks.
“No cuts, no flames,” Regan echoed, “Glad neither were enough to scare you off.”
He moved to his side as she silently requested it. With her so close, he couldn’t keep his eyes from bouncing between hers and her lips, which he met with his once more before she spoke. His hand moved up from her back to her side, running down along her waist, to her hips, upper thighs, and back up. “Scare me off? No, none of your magic scares me. Even if it is…curious.”
Curious was one word for it. He wanted to know more about Regan, about how she came to be this way, but he knew he couldn’t push. She would tell him when she was ready, if she was ever ready. “Tell me something about yourself. Anything, it doesn’t have to be a secret, or something important. Whatever you want.”
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 27, 2023 22:18:54 GMT -5
Regan was practically purring as Warren his hand down her side, wiggling a little with the simple pleasure of it all. She rested her hand on his cheek so that her thumb absently stroked the stubble there as she contemplated his request. She sorted through all the clutter in her mind, but discarded one fact after another: this one too dark, this other too plain, this one downright untouchable. Eventually, she just tossed something out, unable to discriminate a fun fact from a bad one through the fog of her own contentment.
“Regan’s a boy’s name,” she said with a sheepish smirk, “the lady that found me had just lost her son. I didn’t have a name, obviously, so she figured she’d keep his name around. So that he didn’t disappear. Or, that’s what I like to think anyway.” She shrugged, still stroking his cheek.
He studied her as she contemplated her answer, one that took her a while to produce. When she finally did answer, he was already grinning. He wondered if he would have done that, would he have been willing to give his son's name to anyone else? He didn't think so, but if he could know without a doubt that the person chosen would become extraordinary, then, would he be okay with?
Maybe. "You went awfully far back for that one," he said, instead of revealing his somewhat darker line of thinking and dragging the mood down. "Thank you for telling me. If I were the previous Regan, I would be proud." He reached up to hold onto the hand she had against his face, just momentarily, so he could kiss her palm. Then he returned it, and returned his hand to her body, to rest on her hips.
He had promised her that he would let her burn, and if she asked, he would. The back yard of his estate was surrounded by trees, wooded thickly enough that no neighbor could see. She could go out and catch fire for as long as she wanted, but he didn't want her to leave the bed, so he didn't mention it. "Are you tired? I can stay awake until you fall asleep."
Post by Regan Lassiter on May 29, 2023 7:44:52 GMT -5
Warren’s smile was like a prize won. Once you managed one, you wanted nothing more than to snag another and another. Regan wasn’t sure just what had made him grin, but it made her beam with satisfaction to have caused it. Regan wasn’t sure if her dead namesake would have been proud of what she’d become, but it didn’t matter. Warren’s smile was more than enough.
To answer his question, she softly shook her head, still grinning, running her fingertips slowly along his cheek.
“Your turn now,” Regan teased, kissing him, “I’m not letting you off that easy. Tell me something about you.”
He hadn’t expected her to reciprocate the question. Mostly because everyone knew he wasn’t an exciting person. Now he found himself doing much the same as Regan had done, trying to find something suitable among his memories. Every time his thoughts went back to his son, or his wife, he’d shake them away and reach instead for something from his own youth. But all of that had been what most people would consider boring.
But eventually he glanced around the room and thought of something simple. He rolled on his back, gesturing across himself at the windows that took up nearly the whole wall. “My grandfather put those windows in for my grandmother, because she liked to watch the sunrise right over the trees in the back. I used to run in here early in the mornings to wake my father up for training, and I’d throw the curtains open and watch the sunrise with my parents. That was before the curse clouded the skies. By the time my son was old enough to do the same, the sunsets were covered by the clouds. He didn’t care about that anyway, he just liked to watch the deer grazing.”
It had inevitably rounded back out to his son, but it couldn’t be helped. He laughed at the thought now. “The problem is he wouldn’t wake us up. He’d creep in here, real silent, and stare out the window. I’d wake up, and it’d be dark, and I’d roll over and see something standing there…used to scare the shit out of me.”
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jun 1, 2023 14:59:16 GMT -5
Images drifted in and out of Regan’s mind as Warren moved through his story. An old man with Warren’s serious features, a sun as bright as the one in Loren painting the sky, and then the boy—standing in the pale morning light as deer grazed on the frosted lawn below. The last image lingered, equally sweet and somber before it drifted away. Regan was quiet for a moment before she whispered.
“What was his name? Your son’s name, I mean.” Regan shining eyes stayed on his, thumb brushing along Warren’s cheek as her hand lay against it.