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 had been enjoying a glass of wine in the afternoon sun when Vern had decided to bother him again. "My lord, I really think you ought to visit some friends." Elliot groaned, annoyed because Vern was right. He hadn't seen anyone since the accident. The baronet took another sip of his wine and ignored Vern, who didn't get the hint. "I can take you to lord Featherton's estate, my lord. I repaired the old carriage so I could help you be mobile again."
Elliot finished the glass and looked at Vern, although 'looking' was a big word for a blind man. "I don't remember asking you to become my chauffeur, but alright, I suppose it won't do me any good to stay here with you." The constant presence of Vern had been annoying Elliot tremendously, who had started calling Vern Vermin in his mind. The old butler was always around to take care of the baronet, but Elliot didn't want to appreciate that, even though it was a kind gesture.
Vern prepared the carriage and helped Elliot towards it. The guiding stick was definitely helping as well. Being out in the open was still uncomfortable to Elliot. Staying near the walls felt more natural, and safer.
Eventually they arrived at Quinton's estate. Vern would wait with Elliot in the porch, and once someone opened the door, he would stay with Elliot for a little while. If a servant invited them in, Elliot would make it clear to Vern that he needed to go to the carriage and leave him alone. Then he would use his stick to follow the servant.
Post by Quinton Featherton on Jun 20, 2024 21:22:37 GMT -5
Quinton had only recently begun to stir. He’d allowed his valet to bathe him that morning, although he refused to be shaved. What was the point when one felt so empty?
“You will feel more yourself once you’ve had some food, my lord,” Jasper told him, but that was the very problem. He felt like himself. Honora had showed him color and then took it away. He would eat, but only to see if it gave him any of that color back.
It didn’t.
Later, Quinton would be dressed, another thing his valet insisted upon, “My lord, that Lord Moore you met that time will be arriving soon. Shall we go to the sitting room? There is lots of sunlight there.”
Quinton looked at his valet, a scowl on his face, “Lord Moore is coming here?”
“Yes, my lord,” replied his valet, not even blinking an eye, “I thought he would be just the thing to cheer you up.”
A pause, then, “So you invited him here to cheer me up?” he said flatly, “Like I’m some depressed child in need of a play date?”
“You have been out of sorts, my lord.”
A sigh, then, ”Very well. Send him there when he comes.”
And that is where Quinton would be when Elliot arrived. Jasper would be the one to let them in, “Lord Featherton will be in the sitting room, Lord Moore,” said the valet, “If you will just follow me, my lord.”
Jasper would lead Elliot to the sitting room where he would find Quinton sitting in a comfortable-looking chair, looking a little less than put together with the thick facial hair on his chin, his curly hair mussed.
“Lord Elliot Moore, my lord.” Jasper announced before leaving the room to fetch refreshments.
Quinton stood from his chair, his body seemed to move heavily, “Lord Moore,” he’d manage to put some emotion in his voice that resembled cheer, “It has been too long. It seems our servants thought we needed some company.”
Post by Elliot Moore on Jun 21, 2024 3:11:14 GMT -5
Vern hadn't told Elliot that he and Jasper had been in contact, to arrange this meeting of the lords. That was good thinking on Vern's part, because Elliot would have reacted in the same fashion as Quinton had, if he had known. But oblivious to the fact that the servants had taken it upon themselves to get their employers together, Elliot stood in front of the door when Jasper opened it. Elliot followed behind the man, leaving Vern by the door. Whether he went back to the carriage or would have a chat with Jasper later was up to him.
The man arrived in a room, but he couldn't see which one. He assumed it was the sitting room. Apart from the walking stick, nothing unusual would stand out. Elliot still looked like the same old man, but internally, everything was different.
"Lord Featherton, it indeed has been too long. I am sorry that I missed your ball." So their servants had arranged this? He would need to talk to Vern about boundaries. Secretly, he was happy to be out the house. "I'm afraid I had good reason not to be there, though." Elliot extended an arm to feel around for a chair, then sat down. Quinton would most likely be able to notice now that something was definitely up with Elliot, and that he didn't seem to be able to see anymore. "But I don't want to be impolite and barge in with everything that's new in my life. How are you?" The blind Elliot wouldn't be able to see the unshaven beard, or how rough looking Quinton was. He had no idea that anything was the matter.
Post by Quinton Featherton on Jun 21, 2024 8:46:04 GMT -5
“I have been better, truth be told,” Even in his state, Quinton noticed that something was off about Elliot. The stick could have been construed to a fashion choice, but his eyes seemed unfocused. This brought his old self out a little, “It is of little consequence, Lord Moore,” the count reassured his guest, “As it turned out, my ball became something of…a spectacle. Some had a little too much fun,” he’d found out that some guests had gone into his guest room and had a little fun of their own. His lip curled, even though he didn’t really care that much. However, there was the principle of it all. He’d just had his house redecorated just before the ball, “But we will speak of that in a moment. Tell me, you seem…different. What has happened since I saw you last?”
Post by Elliot Moore on Jun 21, 2024 13:55:04 GMT -5
Neither of them was doing particularly well, but Quinton was the first to notice, since Elliot couldn't really notice anything since he had lost his sight. He wondered what made Quinton say that the ball had been a spectacle, but his friend said they would talk about it later and instead asked what had happened since they had last spoken.
Elliot couldn't help but start to chuckle somewhat hopelessly. "I have been meaning to talk to you about this, but I didn't get the chance... A while ago, I was assaulted in Mordha by Honora Allemeade and Hiram Eldouir. They asked about you. I didn't say anything, I asked what business they had with you, and Honora used her Gift on me." He exaggerated the word Gift, his voice full of disdain. "I followed them when they left, and they had gone to Levi Wyndham's estate. Well, that was the end of the Wyndham bloodline. I don't know what they needed from him, but they killed him."
Elliot took a deep, trembling breath. "I stabbed Hiram, with a dagger. It wasn't enough. He took it right out of his body and blinded me." He laughed, but it wasn't because he was amused. It was desperation, hysterics, and disbelief. "I can't see anymore. I was trapped in the Wyndham's estate until someone found me and brought me home." Elliot let out a deep sigh, relieved to have finally been able to share this story, with someone who would understand him.
Last Edit: Jun 21, 2024 13:56:20 GMT -5 by Elliot Moore
Post by Quinton Featherton on Jun 21, 2024 22:21:30 GMT -5
He said her name. As sweet to his ears as it was sharp as a knife gliding over his tongue. Apparently, she had been planning her little revenge for longer than the ball. It was not that surprising, given how she’d tried to fight back that day. And that sow, his sweet petal, had used her gift on another man. But was it the same experience for someone who already knew how vibrant emotion truly was?
“Mmm,” Quinton made a thoughtful noise, “So that sow used her poison on you, too?” Quinton wasn’t as sharp as he normally was, but he still saw an opening to bring the man further to his side. An invalid his tool was, but a tool nonetheless, “My, this has been an unfortunate season for us both. I too am a victim of her gift.”
Ah, that explained the man’s sightless gaze. Apparently his carriage driver was to be believed. His bright, pretty bird had taken up with the Eldouir, “Indeed, you are lucky to have gotten away with your life, Lord Moore,” the wheels in Quinton’s head began to turn. A smidge of his old self coming out, “Truly, I cannot think of something worse. Not only is she gifted, but she’s also a traitor.”
Post by Elliot Moore on Jun 22, 2024 8:00:40 GMT -5
Her Gift was certainly unpleasant. It left you spasming on the floor, in excruciating pain. Elliot nodded in response to Quinton. It had been quite the season.
"I don't understand why he kept me alive. Probably so I would spread the word of his misdeeds, but he will be sorely mistaken. I will not shout it through the streets. I will not allow him to scare our people." He was determined. "What did that whore want with you?" he asked. "Whatever reason she has to betray her own family... To me, it only shows that even the 'good' Allemeades aren't to be trusted." He shook his head. "Lord Featherton, we need to do something about this."
Last Edit: Jun 22, 2024 8:01:21 GMT -5 by Elliot Moore
Post by Quinton Featherton on Jun 25, 2024 10:28:10 GMT -5
Quinton could not care less about the good of society, but he did care about his own good. It was enough that his brain started to turn like it did before Honora had dealt with him, “Indeed we must, my friend,” he put passion into his words, as if he were outraged for the both of them, “The gifteds cannot be left unchecked. That sow made me love her,” he shut his eyes against the memory of that feeling. Delicious and sweet, “I cannot share the state that my valet found me in, but needless to say I was in a less than dignified state,” he approached Elliot and put a hand on his shoulder, “See what has been done to the both of us. It is inexcusable.”
Post by Elliot Moore on Jun 25, 2024 13:04:28 GMT -5
Elliot frowned with an almost repulsed look on his face. "Love?" he repeated. "You must've hit your head when you fell down. Love?" He hugged. "You should feel hatred. Death would be too good for her. She deserves to rot in a dungeon for the rest of eternity." He was getting worked up, his shoulders tense under Quinton's hand, which started him, since he hadn't seen him coming towards him.
"It is", he said coldly. "So how do we make her pay?"
Post by Quinton Featherton on Jun 27, 2024 8:32:07 GMT -5
Quinton shook his head even though the man could not see the movement, “No, no,” he leaned in just a little as he made his voice more grave to get his point across, “She made me love her. Did you know that she can alter one’s emotions? See their thoughts?” He dropped his hands from Elliot’s shoulders and took a single step back, “She can insert them too. She put thoughts of love in my head,” he clenched his fist against the memory, his jaw tightening so he didn’t once again completely lose his mind, “She inserted…horrible actions from myself,” the lie came easily, “I am ashamed to admit that we had a liaison a few months ago…another result of her gift I think.” He thought back of that building on Simmy’s land. The things that he had inflicted on Honora…glee and shame filled him simultaneously. He used the shame to fill his voice with what was the proper emotion to put into the words, “Just as you were abused by a gifted sow, so was I in the same fashion. They. Must. Be. Controlled. For our own good.”
How to make her pay indeed? Quinton was currently in no state to plan anything fitting to punish his little sow. But still…it seemed he had a new ally. Where Simmy fell, Elliot may excel. At least he wouldn’t be obsessing over Zala, “I don’t know yet,” he admitted, “I confess that I have not been myself of late…but I wonder if perhaps we could…” he drew his sentence off, putting hesitation in his tone, “Oh, I shouldn’t say it…it is positively illegal…”
Post by Elliot Moore on Jun 27, 2024 11:25:28 GMT -5
While it was still bad, he felt relieved. It had been her Gift, she used it to make him love her. He hadn't lost his mind. "I did not know that. I thought she could only read minds. She's even more dangerous than I thought." Elliot was still convinced that Ikisina had used her Gift on him to get him to sleep with her, so he felt like he understood Quinton. In reality he had just been a piece of shit, but it was easier to make himself believe Gifts had been involved. Elliot nodded, agreeing that they must be controlled.
The hesitation made Elliot even more intrigued. "My good friend", he said, almost a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're talking to Elliot Moore. I've done more illegal things than I can count on two hands, even four hands. Tell me, and we can see what we can achieve, together."
Post by Quinton Featherton on Jul 5, 2024 6:16:17 GMT -5
Quinton nodded even though the other man could not see it, “Yes, she is capable of far more than anybody thought,” he clenched his fist and put passion in his voice, “She is no better than those wretched Eldouir.” Quinton was pleased with how the conversation was going, given his current state. He still wasn’t in tip top condition, but he was getting the wheels turning.
Elliot took the bait. Quinton did appreciate a man who wasn’t afraid to break the law, “There is a practice among some groups of researchers where they will capture an animal and tag it after performing experiments on it or taking samples,” he paused to gauge Elliot’s reaction to what he said thus far, “I think we could do something similar. The crown has obviously failed us, despite new policies. Must we be hurt before those creatures have a collar slapped on their necks? I do not know how we will do it yet, but I think it may be possible to capture these creatures, and either collar them, or kill them.” And Quinton would have to do the latter with Elliot if he seemed too squeamish for the task ahead of them. Where was his knife…or perhaps poison would be better.
Post by Elliot Moore on Jul 5, 2024 7:13:25 GMT -5
Elliot listened to what Quinton had to say, and his brain started to work overtime. There were a lot of opportunities here. Lots of things they could do. "Do you have collars?" Elliot asked, rubbing his chin while continuing to think. "Without them, capturing will prove to be difficult. I might have another idea, too." He grinned slightly and looked in Quinton's general direction. "Perhaps we could write a letter to Arynn Frey. Say we're working on dealing with the problem, in a diplomatic fashion as to not arouse suspicion. With their enchantments, we could maybe get our hands on actual trackers. That way, we could even plan an ambush and take out multiple Gifted at once."
Their talk was definitely in illegal and danger territory now, but Elliot was enjoying it. Perhaps they could actually do something.
Post by Quinton Featherton on Jul 5, 2024 12:10:27 GMT -5
“I do not have collars,” he thought of the one that had graced that sow’s neck. It had been unlike many color he had seen. He remembered how Simmy had spoken of its twin. Promised to him if he made good to make the little mouse sign over that horse to him, “However, my friend, Count Ellery was in possession of a very interesting variation of them. He had promised me the second set, but he seems to have gone missing,” Quinton remembered how sweet his knife felt as he cut off Simmy’s finger, how awful his friend had looked as he dumped his body in the woods. The dogs had really done a number on him. Heh. Missing indeed, “I may be able to locate them in his manor, but I have found no way inside as of yet.
But oh, he had picked the right person to partner up anew with, “Arynn Frey you say?” The very place that had created those collars…or as Elliot said, trackers. Quinton actually licked his lips. Oh how delicious! “I do like your way of thinking, friend,” he thought a moment, “But I wouldn’t want our letter to be seen by someone else…perhaps we should make the trek there ourselves?”
Post by Elliot Moore on Jul 8, 2024 12:43:47 GMT -5
No collars. "I see", he said. "Neither do I, but the set your friend owns sounds very interesting. Perhaps we could visit his estate sometime. A rough hand would most certainly be able to open a closed door." A lot of road trips seemed to be in the works all of a sudden, but Elliot was more than willing to make them if it meant having control over the Gifted.
"You have a point, my friend. I must say this is all quite exciting. I would be willing to make the trek, if you are?"