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 Magda Ivanova on Jul 9, 2023 12:48:25 GMT -5
“No,” Magda clarified, voice tense with panic, “You’re wrong. You want me. You’ve always wanted me.” She wove her honeyed words, hands slipping to either side of his face. Izen had been her blind spot. The one Cyrilson she’d failed to bring under her control. That would end today. Magda, who had always been motivated by her own political ends, found a rather surprising motivator tugging at her—fear. Fear that at any moment Rian might walk through that door.
“You’re jealous,” Magda continued, feeling more frantic with every second, “You should be chieftain by right, and so you’ve come to claim the chieftain's wife as your own.”
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 9, 2023 12:48:39 GMT -5
Though Magda’s words were poisonous lies, Izen could do nothing but live by them in this moment. They became his mind-numbed truth.
“I want you.” It came out like a stiff confession, no conviction behind it, but a bodily reaction. His hands rose to grasp her sides.
“I’ve always wanted you.” If she did not fight him then he would draw her in. “I’m jealous. I should be Chieftain by right. I’ll claim his wife as my own.” Whether there was a deep-seated truth to what he was saying, or if Magda’s magic was just particularly potent today, Izen’s grip on her tightened, and he’d draw her in by his strength, seeking to follow his words by pressing his lips against her neck feverishly.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Jul 9, 2023 12:48:56 GMT -5
His strength surprised her. Magda winced, inhaling sharply as Izen’s grip tightened. The path forward became clear. It rose before her in its seemingly inevitable horror. Magda could stomach it. She’d endured every humiliation so far so long as it served her own ends. How was this any different? Before, those ends had been power. Position. Prestige. But now—
Rian. And Izen would not, would not get in the way.
“Claim me, then,” Magda compelled him, even as a single tear dropped down her cheek, “Let nothing stop you.”
She’d then try to shove Izen as hard as she could.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 9, 2023 12:49:07 GMT -5
Izen was a warrior. One with enhanced speed. The woman’s shove was nothing against his strength, and with deft fingers he started at her clothing, his lips still finding a way to nip at her neck, her jaw, and then try for her lips. Her struggling would be futile. Izen would strive to get her onto the bed she shared with his brother.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Jul 9, 2023 12:49:22 GMT -5
No, there was no way to freedom, but that wouldn’t stop Magda from putting my a fight. It was theatrics to help seal his fate. Proof to reinforce the toxic lie that she was brewing in Izen’s mind.
“Hurt me, but don’t break me,” It was a gentle, sweetly whispered command.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 9, 2023 12:49:32 GMT -5
Izen was not a rough lover. His living wife would know as much. He wasn’t emotionally available to her by any means, but when they lay together his hands were gentle on her form.
Not now. He grabbed at Magda, pinning her arms to the bed. His lips moved for his teeth, and he grabbed at the sensitive skin on her neck. He freed one of his hands and ripped at her clothing, not in a sensual way, but in a rough way that would surely hurt her.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Jul 9, 2023 12:50:02 GMT -5
Magda yelped in pain. Again, she’d try to break free—not out of any genuine desire to get away but in a bid to encourage him by putting up a futile resistance.
“Harder. Leave your mark, Coheedsman.” The madness that had grown like thorned vines in Magda’s mind was on full display.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 9, 2023 12:50:13 GMT -5
Izen sucked and bit, his hand holding her wrist quickly creating a bruise as his mouth marked up her neck. She was marked, undoubtedly. Spurred by the magic, he finished ripping off her clothing, leaving her naked, before adjusting his own to free himself.
This wasn’t Izen. Not even in his prime had he done this kind of thing to a woman. Something water deep inside him, but it was subdued by the potency of Magda’s ring and touch.
Unless something stopped him, he would force his way in, like an angry man beating down a door. It was not pleasant. It would hurt. It was a ravaging. It was wicked. Yet it would happen, heartlessly, mindlessly, Magda became a victim of the Cyrilson.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Jul 9, 2023 12:50:30 GMT -5
Since she was a child, Magda had been a victim. She'd suffered terrible misdeeds at the hands of foul, lascivious men—her father them. That girl was dragged from innocence into wickedness which changed her from victim to predator. The girl was to be pitied; the woman in the Chieftain's bed was not. This was an act of evil done in a bid to regain control she'd perceived she'd lost. To isolate Rian so he was deaf to any words but her own.
Because Rian was hers. Coheed was theirs, and Izen was a casualty of her conquest.
Magda did not run from the violence and pain. She stayed awake to it all, starting to scream only when it became too much to bear. Unless Izen stopped her, she would cry for help to anyone that might hear.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 9, 2023 12:50:41 GMT -5
Izen didn’t stop her. He wasn’t cognizant enough for that. He was a drone, a mindless thug fulfilling the commands of his master. The very master that screamed as he hurt her, as he did something no human should ever do to another, as he caused her to bleed because of his lack of concern. Indeed, he had no concern, he only obeyed. If she gave him no command when he finished, he would simply remain as he was, panting over her, dull brown eyes set on her face without truly seeing it.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Jul 9, 2023 12:51:01 GMT -5
When it was over, Magda lay there for a moment. Her screams had stopped. It was her hope that she'd cause enough of a ruckus that someone might have come near, or at least started towards the hut in curiosity. But it didn't matter. It was done now, and Magda would start to spin her tale no matter who saw or heard or what.
Despite the fact it was her who had compelled Izen to act, when she looked up at him, she did so with bitter hate.
"Run from Gilead, Izen Cyrilson," Magda said as her final command, "Run from Gilead so that we can hunt you down."
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 9, 2023 12:56:24 GMT -5
The final command was the most powerful of all, extensive as their contact was. There was nothing that could have stopped him from obeying Magda. He pulled himself from her, stood, and did exactly as he was told. He ran like the warrior he was, full of strength and purpose. The purpose was to obey. He didn’t need direction. His sim was to run so that he could be hunted.
He burst from the Cheiftain’s hut with aggression and speed, blowing past those who had hesitantly stepped up in response to the screaming from within. He was fast. His enhanced speed did him many favors as he pumped his arms and sprinted.
It would only take about a minute for him to get a certain distance away from the compulsion and the ring to become gradually freed from his daze. His feet would slow and he would be left confused and disoriented, the last few minutes a haze…
Post by Magda Ivanova on Jul 9, 2023 19:52:49 GMT -5
Magda would take a few moments to gather herself. Sitting up, Magda’s body protested and a wave of nausea hit her. She heaved and gaged as if to vomit. A trickle of bile slipped down her chin, but Magda didn’t bother to wipe it. It was more window dressing for her most horrific charade yet. Magda went to the mirror. The vision was disturbing, shocking, and entirely of her own making. She started to cry, assuming the appearance of a woman in distress to match the brutality she saw in the mirror.
She dragged a blanket around herself and stumbled out into the main room. Nevermerean guards had entered the home after the ruckus, only just witnessing Izen’s hasty escape.
Through tears, Magda told them what had happened. That Izen had broken into their home, accusing her of manipulating his brother and Kaalim to take the role of chieftain away from him—for as second, it had been his by right. The evidence of what happened next was clear. The guards dispatched a party of soldiers to fetch and arrest Izen while others were sent to find @rian.
Watching Magda recount her story, one of the guards thought how like a madwoman she seemed. The once polished Foreign Minister twisted between sobs and spitting venom—something the guard chalked up to the assault. He pitied her and silently cursed Izen, Coheed, and its barbaric ways. What he didn’t know was the woman before him was every bit as brutal and heartless as the warriors that made Coheed their home.