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!
He didn’t have to imagine much anymore, not as she rose from the water like a siren out of the sea. Even without the lilt in her laugh and the glimmer in her dark gaze, every line of her suggested danger. Leander’s breath stuttered in his chest. Mouth dry, he swallowed and shifted again, unlooping his arms from around his legs and pressing his palms into the solid ground as he casually leaned back.
“Then I expect you often get what you want, Chieftess. These days, an active imagination is hard to find and its advances are even harder to resist.”
Who could blame him if he had to continue dragging his eyes up to her face as he spoke? He was a slave to his desires as much as any other man.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Aug 18, 2023 12:01:38 GMT -5
“Is that so?”
The last bit of the feminine fog that concealed the predator in her eyes had cleared. Magda stepped toward him, black gaze like a serpent as she grew ever closer. Unless he balked, Magda would only stop when she was directly before him, the curve of her smile mimicking the soft sloping of her hips.
“And what is it you want, Leander Calderson?” Unless he stopped her, Magda would reach out and run her fingers along his cheek with a flashing, sinister grin.
According to most warriors, Leander lacked many qualities. According to the man himself, intelligence was not one of them. How had a foreigner - and a female at that - ended up as Chieftess of Coheed in a few short years? The glint in her eye, the curve of her lips, and the feel of her fingers on his cheek were answer enough.
Like recognized like. “And here I thought we were talking about what you want.” Something of an amused smirk accompanied the quip. Tilting his head upward, Leander held her gaze and would let her explore his face, lips parting slightly as he breathed. “I want many things, Chieftess,” Leander answered, and if her gaze strayed from his face, she would find evidence of one particularly strong desire. “I’m sure you can use your imagination to figure out what.”
Leaning slightly into her touch, he waited a moment before returning the question, voice low and soft: “And what is it you want, Magda Ivanova?”
Post by Magda Ivanova on Aug 20, 2023 13:33:50 GMT -5
Magda hadn’t felt quite like this before. A new kind of satisfaction welled up inside her, a different kind of itch at her fingertips. Rian was her chieftain, and how she relished the role of being his subservient wife. But this…this was new. A feeling of electric power surged through her, a recklessness curling the corner of her mouth into a wicked smile. With the comfort of the ring on her finger as a failsafe, Magda’s caressing fingers slipped into Leander’s hair. They tightened on his locks, pulling his head back sharply so his neck craned to look up at her.
“To do no man’s bidding,” Magda murmured, her other hand wrapping around Leander’s throat, her nails gently biting into his skin, “To be free.”
At first, Leander didn’t resist her touch. When she ran her fingers through his hair, she sent shivers down his spine, for only his wife had touched him in a similar way. But no, even then, this was different, more— Magda abruptly tightened her grip and drew his head further back. Sucking in a sharp breath at the unexpected development, Leander tensed for a moment before consciously relaxing as much as he could.
In Coheed, especially in Ozias’s circle, women did not hold any physical control over the men. No warrior ever looked up to a woman - was ever made to look up to a woman - like this, and no man had ever yanked on his hair outside the heat of battle. But Magda was a new woman from a new kingdom; perhaps he should have expected that the game they’d play would have new rules too.
It was distracting. Just like her hand hot around his neck, where he had become keenly aware of her nails pressing into his skin. He didn’t trust her not to harm him, but he didn’t - perhaps even couldn’t - pull away either. Instead, Leander swallowed. His heart pounded. “Some people take very easily to being domesticated,” He breathed, barely recognizing the irony of her location and her wishes. “But it seems no one has completely mastered you.” Or else she would have stopped yearning for freedom long ago, and her eyes would more closely resemble those of Velda or Jessamy. They wouldn’t look at him like this: predatory, dangerous. “Who holds the other end of your leash?”
Post by Magda Ivanova on Aug 22, 2023 7:54:28 GMT -5
Magda grinned—a true grin, not the coquettish smirk that accompanied playful banter and her batting eyelashes. It was a dark expression that teetered on the edge of madness. There was a part of her that called for caution. After all, Magda was a delegate of Nevermere, one whose business in Coheed mattered a great deal. But the advantage of being a scandalous creature was that any new rumor was likely to get lost in the the sea of myth and hearsay. Besides, Leander hardly looked like a man whose voice captured the attention of his betters. So what harm was there in having a little fun?
Besides, there was something in the dark of his eyes Magda hadn’t decided what to make of yet. And she didn’t intend to let it go without further investigation. Magda was eager to collect the hungry and the useful—whether they wanted to be snatched up or not.
“You assume I have a leash and not holding one of my own…” Magda loosened her hold on his neck, fingers tracing the contours of his face, gently brushing the surface of his lips as her hand in his hair held him firm. “I broke my chain long ago, it’s just that some have yet to notice…which suits me just fine.”
Magda’s gaze wandered, her eyes dropping to the rest of him with a knowing smirk before returning to his face.
“Touch yourself. I want to watch.” The command was not accompanied by the ring’s power, and so could be disobeyed. But it was accompanied by the return of Magda’s hand to his throat.
Last Edit: Aug 22, 2023 7:58:31 GMT -5 by Magda Ivanova
Eyes on hers, he noticed when her gaze wandered and, letting the pretense of shame fall away, made no move to hide anything from her sight. If the curl of her lip and subsequent command were any indication, Magda did not seem to mind. Just as he did not protest the way she wrapped her hand around his throat once more. For one heated moment, he paused, considering the escalation that felt as natural as it was undeniable, but now that the opportunity arose, different priorities had started demanding his attention.
And it wasn’t as if she had told him to do something he didn’t already want to do.
Head still bent backward, he shifted his weight and reached one hand toward the ties of his pants. “If you broke your chain and hold a leash of your own…” The words came rougher, distracted, as he undid the ties with little fanfare and slipped his hand inside. “Then it sounds like your freedom rests at your fingertips.” With his wrist, he nudged the fabric aside just enough to hint at what she wanted to watch but didn’t make any further moves to obey her request. She had teased him so cruelly before with what he could and could not see that he thought it only fair to return the favor.
“You have power here, Magda.” Well, her husband had power, but Rian, who approved so openly of the Parabolti, surely sought his wife’s council on other matters as well. Leander knew all too well the advantages of whispering in a powerful man’s ear. “And what is freedom but power made more palatable to the masses?” To do what one wanted without weathering the consequences. To choose a life for oneself without answering to any other. Yes, power came in many different forms.
Still hidden, his hand slowly began to move in a lazy, familiar motion.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Aug 22, 2023 17:14:57 GMT -5
Magda practically purred as Leander began to obey her. This was her true power— not what was given by the enchantment on her finger but what her magnetism and cunning provided her. Before it had been a prize offered up by her father, but now? It was hers to wield. When Leander stalled, Magda tightened her hold on his locks and pressed her nails deeper into his skin as a warning and an urging both. She’d step closer, nudging his legs apart with one knee and stepping between them while she tugged his head back further. Magda was still soaked, dripping onto the earth beneath them so that the dust beneath her feet turned to mud.
“Precisely…” Magda chuckled at Leander’s last observation, humming with approval as he started to move, “If only Coheedsman like you realized that our reasons are different, but our desires are the same.” In that moment, her musings were not just for Leander. As she looked down at him with her black, empty eyes her target was not entirely specific.
“And what power is it you have, Leander Calderson?” Magda murmured, loosening her hold and stroking her fingers through Leander’s hair, “You say you are a man of many talents. Name them.” So long as he continued to abide by her directions, her hand would leave his throat and caress the side of his face.
Leander’s legs fell apart with little urging, and with hungry eyes, he watched her step between them. He was too distracted by her proximity, by the hand in his hair and the fingers tightening on his throat, to consider anything beyond the obvious aesthetic appeal of her current state of being, to notice the water dripping from her frame dripped onto the ground beneath her feet. Just as the blood in his brain had migrated elsewhere, so too had his thoughts.
Something about her words brought a few of them back. “Similar desires?” For a long moment, his mind stayed stuck on their present arrangement, but that would not be— What was it she had wanted? Freedom. Power. Although an implication of something further lingered just out of reach, he could recall well enough some of the self-made chains that restricted them. “Too— Too many people are content with the illusion of choice to recognize the deception for what it is.”
She looked more composed than he felt when she stroked his cheek and asked after his own talents. That wouldn’t do, not if he wanted to keep them on even footing and yield only as much as he wanted to. Mind latching onto the question, he worked to refocus himself and his hand unconsciously slowed. “Many Coheedsmen have a hard time thinking beyond the reach of their hand,” Leander offered, eyes finding hers. “I do not. I’ve learned that the brute force my brethren are so fond of is only one of many ways to achieve certain goals.” And often one of the more inelegant solutions, too.
“I’m a good listener,” He added, almost nonchalant, “and I tend to notice what others overlook.” A pause. Then he smirked, and if her hand hadn’t returned to his throat, he would turn his head slightly and dare to lick one of her fingers. Teasing. “And I’m told I’m skilled with my tongue.” By which he meant wordplay, for warriors of Coheed had no business doing anything else with their tongues, not like the women of Coheed - though the innuendo was not lost on him.
His eyes fell from her face to trace the rest of her body, noting now the water still falling from her frame and thin slip. “You’re very wet, Magda,” Leander observed, resisting the urge to reach out and run his fingers up one of her legs. Instead, he removed his hand from his clothing and toyed with the edge of hers. “Don’t you find this uncomfortable?”
Post by Magda Ivanova on Aug 23, 2023 15:52:17 GMT -5
Magda’s eyes stayed fixed on his, glittering ith a vaguely mocking mirth and deep satisfaction. She was listening, a familiar heat rising in her cheeks and a yearning in her core. But Magda was a patient creature. Her own fulfillment was hardly the point of this entire exercise. The point was to observe. To learn whether this meeting was a fortuitous one or a mistake Magda would have to rectify. When his tongue ran along her finger, Magda chuckled, drawing that finger along his lips before…
When Leander stopped, tugging at the edge of her slip, Magda tightened her fingers in his hair to hold him still and smacked him with a sinister grin. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make a sound. A correction from the woman he’d said to be chieftess of Coheed.
Magda tutted, shaking her head. “Did I tell you to stop?” She pulled his head back again, eyes narrowed and a devilish grin on her face.
When her grip on his hair abruptly tightened, he had time for only the briefest realization that something was amiss before her hand collided with the side of his face. Even if she had put the full force of a swing behind it, one did not live Leander’s life without learning how to take a blow, but her decision to temper the smack guaranteed that it stung his pride more than anything. Perhaps it was lucky, then, that he had ample practice swallowing that as well.
She yanked his head back to where it had been. Leander let out something of a quiet grunt, a soft noise of protest that was a little bit genuine and a little bit for show, and he had little choice but to drag his gaze up to hers. “You told me to touch myself and to let you watch,” He pointed out with a grin, testing her even as she tested him. Playing with fire had its risks, but if one could do so without getting burned, the outcome was oh so rewarding. “I have. You didn’t say I had to keep going.”
Post by Magda Ivanova on Aug 23, 2023 20:25:22 GMT -5
To say for a woman to smack a Coheedsman was foolish was an understatement. But Magda had her reasons—she always did—and to find what she was looking for, she was willing to gamble. Leander’s temper did not rise. He didn’t choose the reactionary route of the barbarian. Instead, he smirked up at her as if he was yet to win whatever game it was they were playing. But Magda knew better. She grinned down at him with equal amusement.
“A good listener as promised. However…” Magda’s fingers gently stroked his reddening cheek, “That will only get you so far.” She leaned in as if to kiss him though stopping just short, whispering something imperceptible in its meaning against his lips. When the short curse was complete, Leander would find his body rooted to the stone, his hands flying to his sides as his palms seemed to magnetize against it. Stuck.
If her gentle touch was anything to go by, she didn’t seem to mind a little pushback. Leander liked wiggle room, and he wondered just how far that tolerance stretched.
Perhaps he was a little naive, a little foolish, or perhaps he was simply too accustomed to playing with weak-willed women who did not have Nevermerean magic at the tip of their tongues. Certainly, he was once again distracted by the way she leaned in close, how the neckline of her slip hung low and her lips were suddenly within reach of his own.
When she leaned in to kiss him, he did not expect to feel the caress of words instead of her lips. He did not expect to feel his hands moving of their own accord, yanked by an invisible rope and bound by an impossibly strong force to the rock beneath him. “What—” Alarm had him instinctively straining - and discovering, through his newly limited range of motion, that they were not the only parts of him stuck - to pull free before he recognized the futility in his efforts and forced himself to stop.
Dark eyes scanned the face of the woman responsible for any clue as to what she had in mind. If she intended to harm him, he knew, there was little he could do to stop her. “I certainly can’t continue now,” He tossed toward her, an attempt at a witty quip to keep her from noticing just how much she had put him on the back foot with merely a whisper.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Aug 23, 2023 21:29:19 GMT -5
Oh that was it. The power that Leander spoke of, demonstrated in simple terms. Witch magic remained a mystery to so many, which made its exercise that much more effective. Magda’s laugh flowed forth like honey with each musical note skipping across the water like a smooth stone. That moment of uncertainty in Leander was what she savored as she stepped back, eyes running down his form—all of it.
“How unfortunate…” Magda rearranged her drying curls and lazily started to walk in an arc around Leander as she tugged up the hem of her slip, “I suppose there’s nothing else for me to do here but dress…” She’d still be in his vision as the hem of her dress pulled up above her waist—but only for a split second before her arc took her behind him where he couldn’t—wouldn’t be able to see. He could crane his neck, but he’d find himself unable to catch a full view of the now-naked chieftess.
“What is it you said?” Magda teased, outside of Leander’s view, “That many Coheedsmen have a hard time thinking beyond the reach of their hand?” Leander would feel a whisper against his neck—Magda behind him, lips brushing against his ear. “Just imagine what it is that you can’t reach without me.” She lingered for a moment before moving. The curse wouldn’t last forever, but it would for now.
Even her laughter was beautiful. He might have appreciated it more if each note did not feel like his control of the situation slipping through his fingers. She stepped away from him, those slender fingers moving to her hair before moving to the fabric of her slip, and at her words, concern jolted through him for a second time. He didn’t want her to dress, to leave him like this, but if she chose to, he could do nothing to stop her.
Especially if he couldn’t even see her. As the hem of her dress traveled upward, his gaze went where his hands could not, drinking in the glimpse of what she had only teased him with before— but then, she had never stopped teasing him either, for she now stepped beyond his sight. Though he tried to follow her circuit, he saw no more than what she intended to show him and opted to face forward once more, eyes upon the surface of the water. He would try to mark her progress around him by listening to the sound of her footsteps, but he needn’t have bothered. When he felt her presence just behind him a moment later, a shiver traveled down his spine.
There were many things beyond his reach now. He licked his lips, mouth dry. “Are you volunteering to help me reach it?”