EVENT #01 - PROLOGUE: CORONATION

[Alicon Savat]

(~(OOC: Yep, I started this a day earlier, as I won't be much of anywhere tommorrow, since I am attending a movie, going skating, and generally doing other Saturday activities. xD Anywho, everyone post once, and try to post in order aftwards, aye? Aye. Also, where you are and who you're with in your post description. Other than that, go whack-job-nuts and have fun. xD Ees a party~)~)

A sandstorm, many miles away in the distance, far across the Yatarian desert, moved along in the distance, with a mighty whir, as royal staff bustled about the Yatarian palace. Sitting in his chambers, a young man sat. He had wild, raving hair, and a thin moustache already, but he was not a man, not yet. Young adult suited him better. He was donning the clothing he chose for this day, a luxuriously flowing cape, as violet as the full moon dusk's sky, with white and lavender shirt, in the ruffled stylings of nobility. Below that, he donned violet pants, with his rapier and quiver on either side of his belt. His longbow was mounted to his back, as a display of his power. Indeed, he was dressed to impress, and impress he would.

Placing his tophat upon his head, for that finishing touch of regality, he took a deep breath. No, no. He wasn't nervous about his coronation, nor the fact that he was about to be bestowed with the power of his father's former glory, nor even the pressure of being as great as the former king. No, he just really didn't want to deal with those freaking plebes... Ah well, at least there would be upperclassmen there, people of higher nobility than the poor and the brutes. Most were people his father had known, rather than people HE knew, personally, but he would still be able to communicate with semi-intelligent beings.

Anywho, he was ready to enter the coronation, as he would be the guest of honor. So he was led to the royal stables, where he was allowed into the pen of Terrificus. A beastly monstrosity, terrifying in every useage of the word, it appeared as if it would kill and eat anything it saw. It also had a wooden bone in its mouth, coated in slobber, like a puppy. Alicon, pretty confident nobody was watching, hugged the large animal, smiling a true smile for once in his lifetime. In a rather undignified, unmanly, baby voice, he said, "Hewwo Tewwificuuus, my wittle behemooooth~ You weady for my party? Huh, huh, are you? C'mon, let's go party~" Yes, that was a very manly thing to say. No manlier on Earth. Anyways, Alicon led the monstrous beast out of the stable and it allowed him to sit on its back. Crossing his arms, and sitting in a dignified pose, he and Terrificus were given a team of escorts, led by a marching band and a pair of horses, with riders bearing torches. In the very front, his own horse, Pontidilius, rode forth, bearing the flag on her back, a gorgeous banner flown fittingly by the gorgeus Avelan.

As the fanfare played, loudly announcing his entry, the gates to the main courtyard opened, and the small parade entered, him in the middle, sitting nobley atop his small behemoth. As this spectacle ended, he was carried to the top of a stage, by Terrificus, who he dismounted, petted behind the ear, and he proceeded to head to a podium, as his monstrous pet was escorted home. Thusly, he put on his very best falsified smile, completely hiding the fact that he'd rather not be here, or rather, he'd have liked a less public coronation ceremony. Not that he disliked fame and glory. He disliked the gaping stares of the audience of fools. But, he digressed. So he performed the ceremonial, and universal, totally fake cough of "ahem", and he started to speak, after clearing his throat.

"Friends, Yatarian, or otherwise, I welcome you to this event. As you all may or may not know, my father passed away recently, King Marlano Savat of Yataris. These past weekls have been a bit tough on me, of course, but I'd like to begin that the time for mourning has ended, and while I will never forget my father's shining example, it has come time to accept his death, and move on. So, let us begin.

For those of you who don't know me, my name is Alicon Crowley Savat, of Yataris. We Savats have held the throne of this great, noble land, for well over a century, you know. And as the crown prince of Yataris, I will be proud to sit in that same throne. For as my father was king, and as was his father, and the father of his father, and his father's father's father before him, I shall accept the crown of Yataris, a crown of dignity, nobility, and the magnificence that is Yataris. Thank you." Ch... I bet half the audience sat and listened, and heard nothing but words with more letters than the value of their IQ... Plebians. At any rate, his speech, while somewhat short, was done. So, with a look of nobility and honor, he handed his guards his tophat, and was led center-stage, where guards were standing around. Amongst the guards was a high-ranking soldier who bore the Yatarian crown on a gold pillow, on his golden gloves. Taking the crown into his hands, the man then ceremonially crowned Alicon as king of Yataris.

And only then, did Alicon know what TRUE power felt like... That notwithstanding, he smiled back to the audience, and raised a hand to the sky, in a slow, arcing motion. "Right, then. Let the festivities," as he nearly finished speaking, his hand jerked up, going from a 45 degree angle to his body, into a 180, arm raised right above his head, as he carried on; "Begin!" And now to mingle... Joyous of joys... Oi vey.

[Opal Hutchinson]

POSTING ORDER

• First and foremost, the priorities of any Yatarian combatants should be replying.
  
• People can come and go within the party, so, feel free to.
  
• Anyone who's going to explore the castle otherwise, again, feel free to.
  
• After everyone registers posts ONCE, Alicon should post again. Simple enough.
  
• Rinse and repeat until everything's tied up. I'm expecting this to laugh ~3 weeks.

[Bones]

The hot sun was like a great eye casting it's vision across all that walked amongst Yataris that day. The hubbub and noise of the city was a faraway dream in all of the buildings, as nearly everyone who were fit and able went to the coronation, whether they wanted to or not. Even the palace itself was still as a bone, at least from the rooftops that Bones traversed, her body low to the brick and mortar roof tilings, her gaze shifting from corner to corner of the open roofed stables. She was mostly here to visit the royal library and satisfy her hunger for information, but for any scavenger a stable is an opportunity not to be missed; everything was restrained, while she was free. Her largest threat, a colossal behemoth that probably could tear her asunder in a single motion, was safely locked in a pen, contented only by a large slab of wood. A mare of a striking beauty not even Bones, for all her travelling, had ever encountered. She was planning to go for the horse first, until she saw the other creatures in the stable, and her eyes drifted to a coop of cockatrice that each flurried their wings invitingly. Under her skull-helmet, Bones' tongue lashed across her lips. It was a feast to behold. Using her magic to make herself silent, she leapt from roof and landed onto the ground easily.

Brilliant, she thought. A nice meal before I go to the library. This is going to be too easy. She walked confidently, though heard a loud growl from the behemoth. She shifted her gaze, before gently waving her hand. The behemoth let out a terrifying roar, then stopped when it realised that the roar was about as loud as a buzzing bee. Bones nodded to the behemoth tauntingly, then proceeded to the coop. The cockatrices didn't look up as she purchased herself on the highest post, ready to begin the slaughter.

"This way, m'lord. You'll be left alone as per your request."

Bones' head wheeled around as the grand doors shuddered open, panic taking over and moving her legs before her brain told them to. She scurried into the darkness, unseen by the guard or the top hat wearing man who strode towards the behemoth pen. Both beast and man embraced, rather than the butchering that Bones initially expected as she patiently waited in the dark. In fact, the man got onto the monster as if it were nothing but a horse. The horse was left to march in front of it, some minor guardsmen rushing forward to decorate it. All three left, though the behemoth gave once final glance in her direction and attempted a growl which was silenced before it escaped his lips. Slightly embaressed, the creature left, and Bones watched as the wooden gates closed grandly. Her hands curled around Wolf's Bane, and a grin widely curled on her face, hidden by an emotionless skull that the cockatrices finally noticed. Bones let out a growl of her own, and the usually petulent and fearless birds cowered.

"Lunchtime."

[Murazar Dauthi]

Murazar frowned lightly as the crowd cheered to their new monarchs name and some of the girls giggled and laughed while children pointed and smiled. Everyone seemed happy, except him. He only politely smiled after realizing he would stand out otherwise. He was still dressed in his traveling gear and had the tight fitting cloak over his body. He looked around with his eyes and not his head ever so briefly before moving through the holes and gaps between people in order to move closer towards where the monarch would be.

It was a subtle and nearly un-noticeable movement of his that most would take only as a skilled man who wanted a closer look-see at the king himself. None would know him as a soldier, any who would know him were the dirty and low of the low in the city. No normal folk or soldier would know his name. Alias anyway, none knew his real name anymore. Just a few hidden dusty books by dead priests.

He personally wanted to meet this king, if only to sate his curiosity over what kind of man he is. By his speech, he was unpracticed at the words, but not on how to say them. He was young and inexperienced in many matters, but possibly wise in others. If He could find out his personality and abilities, then he could figure out in the future how his nation would best benefit from future political or militarial action.

[Opal Hutchinson]

"Begin!" As if on cue, the crowds exploded with bustle and conversation. As the white-suited man sat and took an outsider's perspective of the microcosmic societal chaos, chuckling to himself as a gloved metal finger tapped against the pepperbox head of a cane, causing an odd noise to resonate throughout a little bubble of peace the man sustained about him. Tap, tap, tap.

Who could he see? Noblemen, nomads, pilgrims, soldiers; the lowest of the low to the highest in the high locked in dance macabre. Everyone died eventually. Class and power was no use unless you could survive death; it was why Opal despised events like this. An acid-coated look shot towards the smug monarch with the speed of a bullet. If the people of Yataris were stupid enough to be obliviously blind to the fact that this man was more than likely not going to be a good ruler, then maybe they deserved to have him lead them. Be taught for their ignorance. Bliss wouldn't last long.

But, alas, he was here for the routine operation. Maheet had chosen him, and him alone to go - it was a recommendation and request, none were his superior, but Opal had obliged the man. He was powerful, and commanded a respectable fleet and army from dormant and hidden bases across the world. 'One Syndicate operative for every ten in the world,' He would say. 'That is my dream.'

Imposing and intimidating as Maheet was, Opal didn't fear him. But all of that was irrelevant to the drear of such a ridiculous public event. The man sighed, and transferred his cane gently to the left, organic hand, the noise of the tapping ceasing as the tendrils of chaotic ruckus slowly invaded into his bubble, scratching the back of his neck slowly and gently with concealed metal fingers.

He was here for the routine operation. That meant he had three things on his list that were prioritised. Threat level analysis. The man had forces at his disposal, and he was an idiot, but nowhere near enough of one to oppose them. Yataris versus the Syndicate would be a bloody war indeed, but one they had long since avoided - the two were far too close to each other to risk that sort of bloodshed, and had always kept a mutual respect of each other, the Syndicate usually laughing behind closed doors at the current monarch's idiocy, as they manipulated him like a puppet with one hand.

Yataris were going to be necessary in Opal's plans to come, so this was just one more thing he had to grin and bear. It was by far one of the more tolerable events he'd endured, but it did manage to solicit another restless sigh from him as he scrolled onto the second item on the list. Willingness to assist. Opal could tell Alicon was a stubborn brat not nearly fit or grown into the crown: rulers are made, not born, despite 'common knowledge'. Common knowledge was bullshit. He wouldn't help them unless there was something in it for him.

And, finally, Syndicate awareness. How much did he know of them? Well, as the Ascendant, garbed in his white suit, rose to his feet and began to advance upon the Yatarian King's pedestal, he told himself with a smirk that this was one thing that he'd have to find out himself. "Excuse me, King Savat?"

[Prophet Irassos]

Johann Ceodore Irassos had sat beside Alicon Savat for the entirety of that speech. He could see Khail Daedalus, or, Daedae, as Irassos affectionately sometimes called him, sitting a few yards away, behind him upon elevated ground, and then Damian Barius not too far along, either. All three Prophets - and the latter two were scowling intently at the confident-looking young woman on the other side of the room, one Elisa Castillo. Head of the Sabrian Uprising, and Prime Minister of the city itself.

It was laughable, especially to Irassos. So much chaos contained under a blanket and veil of peace. 'Just for one day, we can all stop fighting'. It was bad conduct to break into fighting during such an event; if Irassos had his way, they wouldn't be fighting against the Sabrians at all, but Barius and Daedalus' influence together dwarfed his own. They had said that war was necessary, that these insurgents presented a massive threat to Imperial infrastructure. Irassos had called bullshit and stuffed a few more tobacco leaves into his pipe.

Ah, right. That was it. Snapping his fingers as he remembered, he dug into the coat he'd pulled on for the night - a long, regal fur-lined item that the ambassador had picked out for him, an unsightly thing fashioned of what seemed like half a horse - rifling through many a pockets until he managed to finally dig out his long tobacco pipe, and a tin containing a matchbox and the leaves he so desperately sought after.

Within an instant, the specially-weighted utensil sat upon the man's lips as he stuffed another couple of crushed leaves into the bowl-like opening at the end, and lit a match as other noblemen and prestigious Yatarian politicians looked on in bewilderment. The establishment hadn't exactly been described as a non-smoking area, so, he took it upon himself to see whether he was at liberty to light up or not. Singing the crushed leaf fragments carefully, and taking that delicious smoke into his lungs, he pocketed the tin and propelled a series of smoke rings into the air, cocking back his head to do so.

Presentation and regal appearance could wait. He had an addiction and a hunger to sate.

Meanwhile, a white-garbed figure that the Prophet and ruler hadn't yet noticed drew ever closer to the stand - one that, when he did finally present himself, Irassos in an aware state of mind, the Prophet would notice, and almost drop his very pipe in bewilderment. For that figure bore a face that this man hadn't seen for years - almost ten, in actual fact.

[Aurora Shir]

Words. That was all that Aurora could hear as she stood off to the side of the mass of people, her fingers appearing as delicate as ever as she held a wine glass up to her lips, the black fabric so very silky against her skin. It extended all the way up her arms to the middle of her biceps per standard for the Syndicate Ascendant. What was a-typical of her usual outfit, was her dress. This was a very formal occasion, and while her usual black spaghetti strap dress was formal, it just wasn't the proper type of formal. At least not in her eyes. So she was wearing a dress that hugged to her body tightly, its color black (duh) with a single strap that slipped over one of her shoulders. The skirt flared out from her form at about the middle of her thigh, accenting all the right things as she her golden eyes glanced about the room. A tasteful pearl necklace dangled from her neck, coupled with a diamond bracelet that glittered on her right wrist. Simple black heels that remained lower to the ground clothed her feet, completing the ensemble. Of course she had her knives hidden on her person, and should it come to it, she was dressed to kill. She was always prepared for such an outcome.

"Right, then. Let the festivities," Aurora's eyes darted up to the man on the stage, the man that they were all here to congratulate and judge. "Begin!" She sighed heavily as people began to mill about more, her gaze following after the new King as he vanished front sight, coming to rest upon the important figures at the front of the room. The Prophets. The Prime Minister. A war could explode in this very room at any moment, not that they would choose to since... well... how intelligent was that? Not very. The contents of her glass were quickly drained and taken away by a wandering waiter in a suite that was far too small for him. Such a shame. She shook her head slightly before returning her full attention to what she had been doing before Alicon had begun speaking. Observing the crowd. She opened up her mind and let down the walls that kept everyone else out, listening to the snippets of thoughts that drifted from the crowded people about her. It was amazing to find out just what exactly went through peoples heads at a time like this, and find out just how petty it usually was. Or not. This was hardly the first time Aurora had noticed this. It was merely a reconfirmation upon the status quo of society. Oblivious.

Which is just how they liked them.

But they weren't completely oblivious. Not at all. She felt a familiar pinprick at the edge of her mind, her brows furrowing in recognition while avoiding people who were trying to move past her. Opal? Her golden gaze immediately began sifting through the crowd, quickly coming to settle upon him as he followed after Alicon to speak with him. A small smirk flittered across her lips before vanishing back beneath the calm, impassive expression that she so often wore. It wasn't a surprise at all that he was here. She knew he had grand plans, and she knew he always had a purpose for going somewhere. An event like this was paramount, and absolutely required his presence. It hadn't been too terribly long since she saw him last, but nonetheless... She did enjoy his company. How strange was that? Her, enjoying the company of a man. Her family would have been quite shocked.

"Why hello there, what do you think of our new king hm?"

The voice immediately put her on alert, its tone and lilt identifying it immediately as a man. A man she was unfamiliar with. Turning rather sharply to face him, he seemed rather startled by the speed with which she moved and the steely look that seemed to pierce him through. He covered by giving her an easy smile, gesturing with his wine glass towards the stage. She took note of the second glass he held and offered to her, shaking her head with a polite smile while holding up a hand. From there, she began to sign, "I do not know. He seems well enough, but uncomfortable." Much like myself. Her own thought finalized with her closing her mind to everything, the voices falling quite as she stopped reading the crowd. He blinked in surprise at her sudden use of sign language since apparently not a lot of the populace seemed to decide to learn it and thus would understand her. "I'm... sorry. I'm afraid I don't know what you said. Perhaps if you..." But she had already held up a hand for him to discontinue, casting him an easy smile as she pointed in a general direction of people then to her eyes. She repeated the point to indicate she saw someone she knew (not that she had), and signed, "I'm sorry, please excuse me." And with that she walked away from him. Quickly. She did NOT feel comfortable with men at all.

Slipping easily through the crowd, she decided to move a bit closer towards the stage, a couple of her operatives forming up alongside her. They leaned close to give her updates of potential clients that were here along with job offers that they had already received. She didn't need to sign to communicate to them, "Excellent. Good work. Keep your eyes and ears sharp. If you notice anything of interest, make a note and report to me later. I will keep an eye on the prominent figures here. Dismissed." They nodded to her once and slipped away, the entire interaction seeming like a meeting between friends. But now it was time to listen in on some more interesting people. Opening up her mind, she tried to focus her abilities in the stages direction but other thoughts would inevitably glean in. It was just the way of things. She wouldn't delve into their minds completely. No, just surface thoughts as always. The last thing she needed was the Prophets to decide to take on the Syndicate. Heh, now that would be an interesting fight. Just who would win hm?

[Prophet Barius]

She was here.

Yes, of course she was here. It was bad conduct for any leader to miss an event such as this, which unfortunately meant that the bitch she was here. Prophet Damian Barius II was standing on the left side of the stage towards the back, his hands in his pockets per usual as he stared out at the crowd from behind his blue tinted sunglasses. No, he would not remove them for this event. Fuck that. He already had to wear formal garb befitting one of their station already, so he would at least keep his sunglasses thank you very fucking much. Sighing heavily, he shifted rather uncomfortably in his tux, cracking his neck as if that were the epitome of expression to his discomfort. Pfft, that didn't even BEGIN to cover it.

Alicon may have seemed rather uncomfortable at the event before vanishing away, but Damian probably hated them as much as the new king felt discomfort at them. Yeah he loved the adoring fans, but he knew in reality he probably had little to no people who actually LIKED him at all. But honey badger gave no fucks. None whatsoever. Turning his eyes away from that bitch woman on the other side of the room, he instead peered about at the rest of the people at this event. Everyone had certainly, mostly, gone out of their way to look posh today. God it was reminding him of when he was made a Prophet after his father died. Yech. ANYWAYS. People, yes, he was looking at them. With a twitch at the corner of his mouth, Damian cast his eyes to his fellow Prophets on the stage. Irassos seemed to be going for his pipe per usual, and Daedaelus just seemed old like usual. Why hadn't that old bastard died yet? Honestly. If there was someone else that he disliked as much as her in the room, it would probably be Daedaelus. Stupid old fart was ALWAYS on him about something. 'Shape up your attitude. Don't lose your temper. You are so quick to action, do you even know HOW to use your brain?' His lip twitched again and he quickly looked away lest he do something he regret here. That'd be a FANTASTIC way to represent the Prophets. Heh... but it would be nice to finally punch the old man in the jaw...

A man was approaching. Specifically a man in white. Now why did he.... No. Damian felt the corners of his mouth begin to rise into a smirk as his eyes followed onward to Irassos' face, finding the expression exactly the one he had wanted to see. Utter surprise and recognition. No fucking way. Was that his son there? HAH. He wished he had a camera with him so he could snap a photo of that look. It took all of his willpower to not bust out in a chuckle, but his smirk said it all no matter how he tried to hide it. That made two kids if he remembered right. One he hated, the other he had never even seen least as far as he had known. Now he had. How must that feel huh? To have little shits that were your offspring? Man, Damian couldn't even imagine reproducing because then they would end up having the life that he had right now. Ignoring the obvious problems of finding someone who would be willing to put up with him (hardly likely), and the fact that he'd probably be a TERRIBLE parent. Though who knows? Maybe he would actually somehow be an amazing parent. Pfft, who was he kidding. The main issue was finding someone, that wasn't a hooker, that would somehow love him. Meh. Anyways.

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he cracked his knuckles and sighed heavily one more time. What the fuck was he going to even DO at this shindig? Knowing his luck if some drunkard came up and started bothering him, he'd punch him, and that would somehow mean they'd have to duel. With swords. And that would be all sorts of bad. For one, he was iffy at best with a sword. And two, he would never hear the end of it from Daedaelus and Irassos. And like hell he was going to give either one of them that satisfaction. He may be a hothead, but he wasn't an idiot. So with his hands back in his pockets, he hoped off of the stage and into the crowd, picking up a glass of... whatever the hell the alcohol choice was for the evening. This was what he had wanted to do. Mingle. It was what he was best at despite the fact everyone thought he was a monster who would bite your face off if you spoke to him wrong. That was incorrect. He wouldn't bite their face off, he would probably punch them. And that was a HUGE difference. As he wandered aimlessly, he gave a nod here and there if someone greeted him, slowing as he noticed a person who seemed about as thrilled as he was to be here. His stature spoke military, and his eyes were sharp as he looked about the crowd. Fuck it.

"So how bout that local party?" He spoke without exactly looking at him, instead turning his gaze back to the stage to see if Irassos or Daedaelus were upset at his absence. And no, he couldn't think of something more witty. Thats just how bored he was.

[[ Ross: If Barius isn't supposed to know things, I can erase/change that paragraph where he talks about it. If he does know, or could somehow have found out/know, then awesome! ><;;]]

[Kida Armitage]

Ahhhh, the wind was so lovely up here! It couldn't ever compete with the sensations one received while aboard an airship, but it was still pretty awesome! But where was she at this very moment? Weeeell she was perched on a balcony of the Yatarian palace, hopping down onto the floor lightly with a small giggle. "Ahhh, this should be fun!" She mused to herself, testing the door handle to find it was surprisingly unlocked. Was this someones actual bedroom? Ooo lala! Peering about, she quickly scampered across the room to the door and sliiiiiiid outside of it quickly. So far so- "HEY! What are you doing here?" Eep! Whipping around to face the guard, Kida flashed him the biggest grin possible and scratched the back of her head sheepishly, her other hand hiding behind her back juuuust in case she'd need to grab one of her little cherry bombs. "Well you see, I AM on the guest list, I just um...." She glanced slightly back to the room she had come from, then back to the guard who was clearly none too pleased with her. "I just have unorthodox means of getting inside. Please don't arrest me sir! I just wanted to avoid the crowds!" She clapped her hands together and bowed slightly, really really REALLY hoping he was going to be understanding.

The guard was nonplussed. He merely narrowed his eyes a little and raised his eyebrow, shifting his grip on his spear. "Come on. Lets check out your story." He murmured, waving a couple of fingers before leading her down to the barracks to speak with his superior about her. Aw man....... About ten minutes later, she was finally free again with a rather amused smirk on her lips and a chagrined guard behind her. They hadn't even found all of her explosives either! She was so very good at hiding them. But now it was time to head to the dance floor! Or er... the main floor with the people and the stuff. Thanks to the way they went, she almost ran smack into the new king, but he was moved onward before she could even pause. So she called, "Congrats on the position m'lord!" And with that they were gone. NOW they were out on the main floor, and god were there a lot of people. Slowing to a stop, the guard bowed to her and went on his way, leaving her to her devices once more. Aw man.... she really wanted to spice things up and throw some of her firework cherry bombs.... But she was pretty sure that they wouldn't appreciate that at all. Nope nope. So after stealing a glass of wine (or she assumed it was), she decided it was best for her to wander around the palace some more. Besides, then she wouldn't have to worry about people staring at her scars too much. Oooo, could she get into the armory?! She wanted to see what kind of explosives they had here!

Grinning to herself, she did begin wandering about innocently enough. She saw the entry hall, what she assumed to be a drawing room of some sort, a dining room with a GIANT table, the kitchens were she got scolded out of after trying to steal a piece of bacon. Eventually she ended up getting rather turned about (as if she knew where the armory was anyone), and found herself in a very impressive library on the second floor. The big oak doors opened slowly for her, and she couldn't help but feel mindful of the arid weather that was rather typical of the area surrounding Yataris. Did they have some kind of thing to keep everything regulated and good for the books? Or something? Man was she bad at this stuff. Her eye went wide as she strode in slowly and carefully, her footsteps almost seeming too loud in the space. Well well well, it wasn't the armory, but they HAD to have something on pyrotechnics in here, right? I mean, this was a palace after all! Thus she went to work exploring the many shelves, all alone as far as she knew in the large room.

[Elisa Castillo]

Elisa was beaming, of course. She had to. Diplomacy was the same, whether or not it was with a friend, a group, or a country. And countries were a rather big deal for her. So she stood there, listening to the newly-crowned king prattle on in a self-important attitude.

Then again, she could certainly say the same for herself, or to the two men across the room staring at her. Prophet Irassos and… and that bastard. If only circumstances were allowed for her to take the little fucker out, but… Sacrifices were being made on both sides, currently. Putting up with one another would prove to be a test of patience and endurance, which, luckily, she had enough of.

As the party finally started, she began to walk through the crowd that inevitably cropped up. Half-listening to conversations, she spotted Alicon talking to a man. Not that she had any particular interest to talking to him right now. She’d had sit-downs with Yataris in the past, and she couldn’t press any more so quickly, lest she seem desperate. The “Uprising” was doing fine enough, but… No, she wouldn’t beg for assistance. She was here to enjoy herself, and enjoy herself she would. She’d just need to find some appropriate entertainment.

”So how bout that local party?" She cringed a little, hearing that man’s voice. But, on the other hand…

”Ah, Barius, nice to see you,” she says rather plainly, walking up to him, avoiding standing too close to Mura. ”Good to know that men such as yourself can put aside differences for the sake of a party,” she adds. ”Though it’s interesting to know that even the Prophets can’t resist the call of free food and drink.” Her eyes narrow, staring down the young Prophet. But instead of punching him and challenging him to a duel that she’d probably win (swords crossed her mind, but she much preferred axes, after all), she gave a polite – if fake – smile and waited for him to respond. Maybe goading him all night would prove to be entertainment enough.

[Amelié]

Sand. Why did there have to be so much sand? Sand, in some instances, was great for your skin. But for one who didn't need that right now? You could say she was less than pleased. Did she show it, however? Absolutely not. No, there was only a soft smile upon her lips with a hint of the self-confidence she always held, the rest hidden behind circular sunglasses that held just the smallest hint of purple in their lenses. Everything had to match of course. It was poor form if Amelié Gentilesci didn't match or appear gorgeous. Well, that and her agent would kill her. So she sported a wide brimmed sun hat of a gentle lilac with a deeper purple ribbon about it that fluttered in the breeze behind her as they rode cockatrices into town. She rode side-saddle per her agent's instructions, her blue eyes peering from behind her sunglasses to him as he rode beside her. A well meaning man to be sure. She was really quite lucky to have him. Grey suede gloves covered her hands that delicately held the reigns, the color complimentary to the deep purple edges of her dress, the rest a light lavender to match her hat. Her boots were also a grey suede that matched her gloves, laced up a couple of inches above her ankles. Yes, she was dressed quite stylishly.

Voices were what greeted her as they rode up to the palace where the coronation was to happen, taking only a few more minutes till they reached their destination. Sliding off her cockatrice, the bird cooed and waved its head, but she already was looking ahead. Thats what she had done throughout her whole life, look ahead. Her smile only grew as her hair shimmered like water in the light, currently colored a blue to offset the heat of the desert. A coronation... She hadn't been to one of those before! Back straight, no fidgeting, and always a smile. Yes, excellent. All was in order. Her agent was now prattling off what she was to be doing after this but she wasn't paying him any mind. She was already striding inside as whispers and gasps of excitement grew about her. "Oh Ancestors, is that Amelié?!" "It can't be... It really is!" "Amelié!" As the pair passed through the main doors, she removed her hat and sunglasses, shaking her head a little so as to readjust her hair. But it was perfect. Of course. Her eyes slowly opened as heads turned to her presence, bowing her head respectfully as she passed dignitaries, military officials, among other well-to-do's that were spread across their home of Thibudis.

Her agent took her sunglasses and hat as she slipped through the crowd, gliding like a stream that knew exactly where it was going no matter how many twists and turns it made. So she came to a stop on the right side of the room about twenty feet from the stage, giving the occasional autograph as it was asked of her. Smile. The biggest thing was to smile. But that all died down as the King appeared and gave his speech. He seemed... rather nervous. Didn't he? No matter she clapped when appropriate, her hair already shifting back to its usual soft pink as Alicon fell silent (it would have been rude to change it while he was talking). Now it was time to mingle! Smiling softly, this was a day where she could actually relax and enjoy herself. Her next concert wasn't until the end of next week and even then, they had enough time that she could actually explore this city as well in the meantime.

But what of the players that were here? Her cool gaze scanned the room, stopping at each person of interest that she knew of. Elisa and the three Prophets. Two major powers that she knew threatened to clash. If her father had any say, would he ask her to join the Uprising? Would he ask her to leave her career behind to follow in his footsteps at least a little? Her smile faltered a little as she stared at Elisa whom was speaking to the youngest of the Prophets, forcing her hands to remain still at her sides, removing her gloves lest she feel like her palms were sweating too much. No. If she were going to join the fight, it would be with a microphone in hand, not her spear. Not if she could help it. Sure, she would endorse whomever she would chose to if they asked, but not until then. She was Amelié. She would remain true to herself, her beliefs, and her desires. Her smile returned as a trio of folk came up to her, allowing herself to get lost in the conversation.

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