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 Aldrich Abbott on Sept 15, 2023 2:42:55 GMT -5
He was starting to doubt they would ever leave on a positive note. Every time they met, something would happen and their goodbyes would be slightly uncomfortable. "Goodnight, Regan", he said, attempting to smile. He would leave the bottle of whiskey in her room. He didn't need more alcohol that night. He just needed the couch in his office.
He left the room and continued down the corridor to his office. Once inside, he kicked off his boots and dropped down on the couch with a sigh.
We won't call it quits. We'll call it the start.
Last Edit: Sept 15, 2023 7:58:45 GMT -5 by Aldrich Abbott
Post by Regan Lassiter on Sept 15, 2023 9:12:47 GMT -5
Regan watched Aldrich go without a word, the insecurity that plagued her already going to work, twisting every moment of the interaction to fit its frame of puzzling paranoia and self-loathing. The longing made it worse—the impulse to run after Aldrich who had once satisfied the same hunger that gnawed at her now. But he’d gone. He’d gone and taken his soft voice and sure hands with him.
So she was left to wonder. It was her lack of response to his question that had sent him away. Not her desire for Warren but his desire for answers—or maybe…
It was a rogue thought. A strange thought, but one that Regan indulged nonetheless. Maybe he’d been put up to this. Maybe he was fishing for answers…for who? Hadrian’s lackey that had come to her before? Another? Regan tried to shake the thought from her mind, but the more she tried to move it the more it dug in like a splinter.
Regan wanted to cry like a petulant child. Cry because she needed Cassian and he wasn’t there, because she missed Warren yet couldn’t reach him, because she wanted Aldrich's comfort and he had gone, and, perhaps more than anything, she was just lonely. Still, after all these years, a lonely little orphan who had never entirely grown up.
Regan would finish the whiskey, though it did her little good. She’d try to satisfy herself but find that substitution wanting. So after it all, she’d lay there in the dark, hot tears running down her cheeks as the din of her own intrusive thoughts kept her wide awake.