VIVACIOUS   CAPTIVATING  PERSUASIVE   CHARMING

TROUBLE

Virian 

of house Kyljoy

   Elves and fae alike were ecstatic to hear that the royal king and queen of the magical land of Esteria had given birth to two healthy children- a boy and a girl. As the years drew on, all began to realize that they'd have preferred only one healthy child. They'd have preferred to not have Virian.

   A born prankster, the young elf prince does anything to have a bit of fun, and doesn't care who he hurts. His ambitions are strange and unknown to all but him. Does he want to hurt or laugh at you? Does he drink to excess or abstain for his health? Does he help the good or the bad? Even he doesn't know, until the situation comes. Then he'll decide, if he can be bothered.

   Virian was nicknamed the 'Wicked Prince' by his own court- and for good reason. Manipulation is his forté, although that shouldn't be confused with being his passion and main hobby. Those are much more private matters. But one mustn't forget that just the same as manipulating, Virian also relishes in the art of theatre and the attention it gives him.

   Like all high born nobles he plays many instruments brilliantly, but no one has been able to match his skills in dancing, singing, composing, and writing. Although not particularly athletic, he does harbour a stealthy talent for magic. This might come as a surprise to some, but most elves aren't very powerful magi. Sure, it comes naturally, but never strongly. Virian, however, harbours a talent even he himself is sometimes wary of.

   With a look that books take pages to tell of, the Prince has the sort of charm where you don’t quite understand whether or not you detest and desire him. And, not unlike when you do read a book where it takes ages to explain just one person, you either love or hate him.

~~~

 

~~~

  • As a prince of the blood Virian wears the very best money can buy, and he expects nothing less. Satin weaved by the frost elves of the mountains of Nimtum; linen from the untouched plants far in the field of sorrows; leather made of royal fae cattle, etc.
  • His hair is a natural curly mess which he often tries to control by slicking back. Unsuccessfully.
  • His eyes are a swirling shade of gold- a striking contrast to almost every other silver elf which always seems to have either icy, sky, or sea blue eyes.
  • His skin glows with the shine of luna during the night: a sign of his blood bond to the moon goddess and all her power, and his powers thrive during that time.
  • Always a snob for hygiene, Virian will never wear the same hem or gloves twice, and he bathes every day in the private lake of Haagh Shallows.

 

 

~~~

Most people call Virian a snobby narcissistic arse. But never to his face, of course.

   In truth, he doesn't even notice this in him. He's always been raised as part of the nobility- the better part of society, as he was always taught- and so he has grown to believe it. Although prejudiced to things such as 'class', he does accept other people for what they are, even if he thinks he's better than them

   Virian is also dangerously charming with a sort of childish innocence about him, which he most often just uses to further manipulate people, but he can really be a total sweetheart when he wants to be.

   He will always be a snobbish narcissistic arse, but he will also always be loyal and true to those who matter to him. It's just a shame he hasn't found anymore to matter. Yet...

 

 

EARTH REALM

Whether it be during the 17th or the 21st century, Virian prefers to spend his time in Paris when he is in the Earth realm. Fluent in French, he is able to pass off as a local with ease and is well known in some periods.

Of course, as a 'human' he has to 'die' sometimes, and when he does he flees to Italy before coming back as a new man with a new life.

And so the cycle goes.

Virian cares not for such feeble matters of a person gender. The trouble is getting him to like the personality.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

{due to personal matters replies will be extremely slow. i hope you'll all be able to understand, but i need to put myself first.}

 

 

 

* Please try to have decent grammar. I'm okay with a few mistakes but don't be illegible.

* If you're uncomfortable with something Virian is saying/doing or the subject matter of a roleplay I will happily shift things away from what's hurting you. I hope you will do that same for me if needed.

In the end, we both decide what our characters say and do. Don't be afraid to talk to me OOCly.

Friendly (but slightly tiring) admin ❤

That being said...

 

So you think you have what it takes to keep up with me?

I'd like to see you try.

 

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  • ”L-likewise.” Was all Malory managed to say to Yanz, nodding to him slightly. She didn’t really approve of him, but now was not the time or place for that. She would talk to Gwen later, if she remembered. With her hand shaking every so slightly, it was hardly noticeable, she raised her drink and took a long sip, almost finishing it off again. How many was she on now? Five, or six? It couldn’t be more than seven, that’s for sure. For someone the size of her—lean and not really that tall (don’t call her short)—Malory had a relatively high alcohol tolerance. Since she drank too much. Since she was stressed too much. If hunting didn’t kill her, cirrhosis of the liver probably would. 

    Malory was getting claustrophobic real fast right about now, being held onto and surrounded by people, pulled closer by both Gwen and Virian. The tension was palpable and Malory felt like the air around her was vibrating with discomfort. She needed to get away, she couldn’t stand it anymore. When Gwen asked her about what she thought of Gwen’s scars, Malory’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a few times, before she just pulled away. 

    Taking her arms back from both Virian and Gwen, Malory turned and fled, weaving her way through the crowd to make it to the more quiet place between the pillars and the windows. Her breath left her in such a relieved exhale, it almost knocked her over. She placed her hands on the cool stone of on of the glass-less windows and tried not to lose her balance and just fall out. That was a good possibility right about now. With her eyes closed and her drink sitting on the sill next to her, trying as hard as she could not to focus on what was going on around her, it was the perfect time for Caden to strike. 

    The noble woman had been watching Malory like a bird of prey, always keeping the rodent in her line of sight so she could pounce on the best opportunity. Now seemed like a perfect time! But, Caden didn’t go towards her, not yet. She had seen Malory run away—such a coward—meaning she was likely going to be followed by the prince or princess who both seemed to care about the tiny less-than-peasant. Such fools, to care about a creature so insignificant, only there to fool and trick her way into the palace. Caden’s hate blinded her so much, to the point where she didn’t even seen Malory as an elf anymore. She was just a disgusting rodent that had snuck it’s way into the castle and into the beds of royalty. Pathetic

  • Oh yeah, too be fair. While Malory was about to have a panic attack in a giant ballroom full of creatures who weren’t human, several of them hating her, at a royal ball, away from her family, while having to keep up this insane charade, poor Virian couldn’t pull pranks. Yeah, totally fair. Not. Malory wouldn’t be able to stop herself from hurting Virian if he ever said that to her. 

    After a minute or two, when Malory could feel the alcohol start to kick in and thought that she wasn’t hyperventilating anymore, she opened her eyes again and took her head off of Virian shoulder. She had just needed a quick break, and resting on Virian had been virtually her only option. Thankfully, though, she didn’t real need to do anything else but stand and walk with Virian as he spoke to those who came by. It didn’t seem like people really wanted to talk to her, which was only a good thing in her book. Though maybe it did look odd to have the intended to the prince standing there and silently drinking as people came and went without a word from her. Maybe that was a bit weird for her to do. Well, too bad, Malory wasn’t going to say anything unless she needed to. 

    Malory watched the elven dancers as they appeared, grateful for the sudden distraction. There, she could just be watching the dancers, no need to talk to—damnit, Gwen! Malory was unable to suppress the slight flinch when the princess latched onto her arm from out of no where. But she relaxed a little when she saw it was Gwen. Malory wasn’t sure why, but she felt a little closer to Gwen, like Gwen was a crazy little sister she never had. She liked Gwen, and felt protective of the young princess for some reason. Which was why she was suddenly eyeing Yanz and pulling Gwen a little closer to her.

    She didn’t trust Yanz. Olla hadn’t been happy about Gwen going off with Yanz—there must be a reason for that. The age difference was setting off alarm bells for her immediately. Why was Gwen interested in him—or, more importantly, why was Yanz interested in Gwen? He didn’t seem to like her loud and childish attitude, which to be fair Malory didn’t completely like either but she thought it was cute sometimes. But Malory wouldn’t correct Gwen’s behavior like that. There was something about Yanz that Malory didn’t trust. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there. 

    With a little sigh, the first sound she had made since she had last spoken to Virian, she looked back to her ‘intended’ and shrugged slightly. She wasn’t okay, but she wasn’t terrible, but she also didn’t trust the man standing on the other side of Gwen, but she was also definitely starting to feel the alcohol hit her head, sooo...

    Oh, good, more booze! Malory took the cup from Virian readily, sparing him the tiniest of smiles. How much had she had to drink already? She couldn’t remember.

  • Malory wasn’t smiling when Virian saw her. She was struggling to keep her face blank, so she neither looked happy or sad or angry or like she was about to lose her goddamn mind. Every sound her was grating on her nerves—the music, the talking, the laughter—and she knew it would only get louder as more of the guests started to drink and dance and relax. Honestly, she felt like she wanted to throw up, her hands were gripping her cup far tighter than she needed to to keep her hands from shaking. She missed having her sword by her. Even if she wouldn’t be using it during a stupid ball, it still gave her a sort of comfort when she had it on her. 

    Oh fencing practice with Virian was too far away for her liking. 

    Finally making it to Virian, she readily took his arm when he gave it to her, standing as close to him as possible. She felt so small, but not in an unnoticeable way, in a way where she was an annoying fat fly that everyone wanted to smash. Virian was basically her anchor in this situation, guarding her from the others at the ball. He could feel her limbs trembling slightly. “Of course I made it, my dear, I wouldn’t want to miss your first celebration home.” Malory said with a small smile, looking up at Virian as lovingly as she could. It was passable at best. 

    Malory didn’t say anything to Ellsar, she knew he disliked and didn’t trust her, so there was nothing she could say to him that he was like or believe. So instead, she just bowed her head respectfully to him before turning back to Virian. She hadn’t noticed he had taken her hand until he kissed it, and she completely ignored the rush awe’s from the friaries—for their own safety, since Malory was in the mood to hit something. For some odd reason that she couldn’t explain, Malory leaned her head against Virian’s shoulder and closed her eyes, taking a few deep, and hopefully relaxing, breaths. The action was intimate, but to onlookers it would seem that the Prince’s intended was just taking great comfort in being around him. Which, at this point, wasn’t entirely untrue. 

  • Malory was fine with following the Guardsman and listening to him talk, but she said hardly anything herself. Her goal was to basically speak as little as possible to anyone, whether or not she was around Virian. The only time she did speak consistently was when she was alone with Virian in the apartment or somewhere else. Though, talking to him alone usually ended up with them fighting. Not like Malory really cared about causing him distress. It was still his fault that she was here, losing months of life on Earth, because he stole her sketchbook. He hadn’t even given that back to her yet, which made her more bitter to him. Which led to more arguments. Malory was worryingly close to just shouting at Virian in public, ruining their lovey-dovey facade as a happy couple. 

    The ballroom was beautiful and massive and full of people. Not even people, but elves, and what must be fairies, and the guards—she had no idea what they were, were they a different type of elf or a different species all together. It was true that Malory hid herself to the side, wringing her hands together out of nervousness. She needed Virian—what if someone tried to talk to her? Or asked her to dance or asked her where she was from or—? There were so many things the woman who already had social anxiety with humans was worried about. She felt like a tiny lost puppy in a room full of people who hated dogs.

    Malory reached for the beverage, needing a drink to calm herself, but then the stupid royal family(ies) had to show up. Though she did bow with everyone else, Malory noticed the look on Virian’s face, and it made her want to punch him. If he wanted to enjoy the party, he shouldn’t have had Malory come with. To hell with keeping Gwen happy about seeing Malory at the ball, Malory was about to have a fucking aneurism in the corner and if she died Virian probably wouldn’t care about finding a way back to Earth to give her family some closure on what happened to her. He would just keep going to parties and not giving a damn about Malory’s family or anything. The look on his face, and the fact that he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about finding Malory, made her want to hate him even more. But still...she couldn’t.

    Also, the king could go eat a pile of dirt for all she cared. Asshole looking at her like she wasn’t worth the space she was taking up...

    With the royal families accounted for and everyone going back to talking, Malory managed to snatch a drink off of a passing tray. Just barely remembering to face away from the royalty that she didn’t give two shits about, Malory drank her first drink. All of it. Without even taking a chance to smell what it was. It was alcohol and she didn’t care, she needed it. Then she grabbed another one, from a different server, and fished that one off in a couple seconds, before grabbing a third drink, which she finally didn’t have all in one go. Taking regular sips of her current drink, she started making her way around the side of the ballroom to Virian. If he wasn’t going to go to her, then she would just go to him. And imagine how good it will feel to punch his throat once they made it back to the apartment and had some privacy. 

    Caden was already at the ball with her group of friends, standing tall and regal and internally smug and excited about the night to come. Finally, it was time to eliminate the rodent the prince had decided to take for a wife. When the elf spotted Malory on the other side of the ball, she immediately scoffed and turned to her friends. “The prince’s intended is wearing such a hideous dress—Is she trying to insult him? I wouldn’t be caught dead in something so drab.” She hissed in a whisper to those around her, who looked for Malory, and most of the ones who spotted her agreed, or said nothing, but whether or not they disagreed or they wanted to keep their disdain to themselves, it was anyone’s guess. 

  • And I’m “part” of the royal family now, Malory thought to herself, not daring to say that out loud in fear of Olla becoming suspicious. So she just nodded slightly. “Alright, Olla, thank you.” Did she know who a Guardsman of the Meadow was? No, she had absolutely no idea. But again, she wasn’t going to say that out loud. Malory just needed to pretend that she knew what was going on—fake her damn heart out until she could be alone with Virian and not have to put up the stupid act anymore. Oh boy, it was going to be a long night. 

    Malory followed Olla to the door, for once not needing to lift the skirt of her dress to walk around without tripping on it. The other elf dresses she had worn were too long, since she was especially short by elf standards, even if she was average by human. The custom dress was just the right length. Though some high heels wouldn’t hurt. Did elves have high heels? Malory felt like they should. Subconsciously smoothing out her dress again, Malory took a deep breath. She could make it through the night. 

    Though she suddenly felt like her stomach was in her throat and that she’d trip over her own feet. 

    Why was she so nervous? She didn’t need to be nervous! It was just a dance, a ball with Virian where she didn’t have to do anything but stand there and do one dance. She could manage that without making a fool of herself, and subsequently Virian. With another breath to try and calm herself—her necklace had to be removed since it didn’t go with the dress and it was too big to be slipped under the tight, high neckline—Malory stepped out into the hallway. 

    The Guardsman wasn’t what she had been expecting, but she wasn’t that scared by them. He looked similar to a young troll, if that troll had also merged with a tree. She nodded to the creature, bowing her head slightly in return. “Yes, I am Lady Malory, Guardsman. Thank you for being my escort.” She literally wouldn’t know where to go if she didn’t have a guide. 

    Caden was already ready for the ball, she had been for hours already. With her reddish-pink dress with bell sleeves and pockets hidden within the seams of the skirt, she was prepared for the night ahead. Already in the ballroom with her gaggle of friends, all she could think about was the look on the little rodent’s face when the poison took effect. Oh, it was going to be lovely. 

  • Malory pushed some of her loose hair out of her face with a small, relieved sigh. Thank the gods Gwen wasn’t pushing her for answers. “There’s not really a need to dance when you’re alone in the woods.” Said the human with a shrug. That was basically her only—and completely valid—excuse for everything she didn’t know. She grew up alone in the middle of the woods, she didn’t need to know how to dance or about how weddings worked or who the hell “Mother” was, and nor did she have anyone to teach her. It was a pretty good excuse. 

    “Yes, I hope it does. It’ll be my first party with Virian.” She plastered a bright smile on to her face with that comment. Happy engaged couple, happy engaged couple. “I’ll see you there, sister.” After watching Gwen leave, Malory looked back to Olla. She knew something was up with this Yanz guy, but Malory didn’t really want to focus on that right now. Now she needed to finish getting ready. 

    Maloru stayed quiet as Olla dressed her, enjoying the feeling of the satin and lace against her freshly cleaned skin. As for her hair, Malory requested a similar look to that morning, though with much more of her hair down in curls and a smaller portion kept on a bun on her head. The tiara felt like overkill, and Malory really didn’t like the gaudy piece of jewelry on her head, but she could live with it for the next couple of hours. Finally, they were done and Malory was ready to go drink and dance and hopefully not talk to anyone that much. 

    Standing after her hair was done and running her hands down the front of her dress to flatten it out, Malory nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be all. Thank you, Olla. Do I need to have Virian escort me, or should I just go to the ballroom and meet him there?” She probably figured that out before her and Virian had parted ways, but oh well, too late for that. 

  • “Gwen...” Malory let out a tired sigh as Gwen started listing out problems to wearing the yellow dress. Why did getting dressed have to be so difficult for the princess? Malory would usually be fine with just talking some sense into someone about not needing to dress for a man or to not care about what other people think, but there were a couple of problems with that now. First, Malory didn’t think her earthly, independent woman, dress-for-yourself way of thinking was common on this planet. Second, talking sense into Gwen sounded like an extremely tiring task that Malory just didn’t have the energy for. And third, Gwen was the princess and did need to look nice and regal all the time, especially at a ball. So, Malory was thankful for the help from Olla, letting Gwen know what her potential partner will be wearing. 

    “Yeah, yeah, um...You’re totally kindred spirits.” Malory managed to say without gagging, though the look from Olla was definitely noticed. With a surprising amount of seriousness, Malory took Gwen’s hand lightly and looked at the princess. “But...for me, could you not rush your relationship, Gwen? Already being here with Virian is a lot for me to handle, and though I do want you happy, I...I don’t want you to get hurt. Please, take your time?” What kind of garbage reasoning was that? Malory couldn’t think of anything else, but now it sounded like she wanted the spotlight to herself and Virian. Hopefully, though, Gwen would know that wasn’t true, with how much Malory has already shown how much she doesn’t like being the center of attention. 

    Turning her attention back to her own dress, she nodded slightly. “Oh yes, it’s lovely, and I will be wearing it tonight. Virian and I practiced our dance, which I am thankful for. I will admit, I’ve never been to...any sort of occasion like this before, I’ve never...needed to know how to dance.”

  • Malory followed Olla over to the door, adjusting her towel slightly so it’d stay on better without her holding it. She was surprised with how much she was being naked around people lately, since meeting Virian. Other people were there when she bathed and there when she got dressed. Even Virian had barged into her motel room while she was showering. It was comforting to know that Olla was blind, but...Malory kinda wanted privacy, to get dressed and washed on her own. Then again, she actually did need help getting into her new wardrobe of stupid, fancy dresses. Good god, Malory was never going to wear a dress again once she got back to Earth. 

    The bath and time alone had relaxed Malory somewhat, but she still wasn’t in the best of moods. At least she was talking now, and some food and drink would probably help her spirits as well. A jog would still be nice, if she could take one. Guess she’d just have to settle for fencing tomorrow...

    As she and Olla entered her room, the first thing Malory noticed was the dress. Now...to be fair, it was lovely, and definitely as close to her style as a formal, elven dress could be, but...she still didn’t...Okay, that’d be a lie. She liked it. Malory actually liked the dress. She was trying, and failing, to convince herself that she didn’t, because she was just to stubborn for that. She didn’t like freakin’ dresses! Of course not! 

    Shaking her head quickly to get out of her thoughts—now wasn’t the time to debate with herself about her feelings towards items of clothing—Malory approached the dress and ran her fingers across the fabric. “It’s lovely, Olla, I just hope—“ And there goes the siblings shouting in the room next door. With a sigh, Malory was going to call out to Gwen to the princess could find her, but alas, she didn’t need to do that. Malory caught a quick glimpse of Virian as well before the door was closed, and she just looked damp and tired. 

    Turning to Gwen, Malory reached a hand out and placed it on the princess’s shoulder. “Gwen, please, relax. Worrying about your dress so much is going to do nothing but turn your hair grey.” It slightly displeased Malory to know that Gwen wanted to dress in a certain color to impress a man—though she had done the same thing, for different reasons, mostly just to mess with Virian—because Gwen should dress in whatever color she liked more. And that’s what Malory told her. 

    “Which dress do you like more, Gwen? Which one do you think you look better in? This ‘he’ will probably still like you no matter what color you wear, you’ll look lovely in anything. So which do you prefer, hmm? The yellow or the blue—or another color from your wardrobe?” She spared the servant an apologetic smile, immediately feeling bad about suddenly potentially giving the princess a whole lot more clothes to go through. Hopefully she’d just choose between the blue and yellow dresses.

  • Okay. Malory had very little time to do a lot of things. First, bathe. She literally hadn't washed herself in days, and she simply felt gross, especially after the dance lesson with Virian. Fresh, warm water was poured over her skin, and heavenly scented soap was lathered over her body and through her hair. Huh, it felt like her hair was a bit longer than normal. She hadn't really been paying attention to it recently, but it shouldn't have grown a couple inches in just a few days, or even a couple weeks since the last time she had it cut. Maybe she was just imagining things. Gwen had said that Malory's hair had seemed a little short--maybe the princess had put a spell on Malory that she wasn't aware of to make her hair longer...Well, whatever, Malory didn't really care, and couldn't even confirm for sure that her hair was even any different. It just...felt different.

    After being washed and rinsed and patted down with a heavy, fluffy towel and raking her fingers through her hair to try to dislodge some of the knots, Malory was just about to leave when Olla showed up. “Oh, I was just going to look for you. Can you help me get ready for the ball?” She knew the answer was going to be yes—after all, that’s what Olla’s job was—but Malory felt the need to ask, to be polite and kind to the staff in the castle.

    Caden and her group of friends didn’t say anything to Virian, only giggled and smiled at the prince. Though, on the inside, Caden felt anger build up inside of her. The prince grinning and smirking at her like he liked her, when he was engaged to that rodent. Was he trying to upset her? Good thing she was going to take care of the pest that night. After Virian left, Caden excuse herself from the group. She needed to get ready.  

  • Well, not to brag or anything, but Malory did know some key phrases in several languages, and spoke almost fluent Native Tree Elf, which she guessed was a different type of elf than Virian, since they were native to Earth and couldn’t go more than a few feet from the tree they were rooted to. Pun not intended. But their language felt similar to the one the command was in, at least to Malory. So remembering and saying the command had been relatively easy for her. “Really? It took you years to learn it?” It wasn’t meant to be an insult, though it kinda sounded like one, but Malory was genuinely surprised to hear that. 

    Looking around the bathhouse, Malory was glad to see it was empty. She didn’t really want to run in to anyone else at the moment, some alone time in a bath would be good for her. She started to head to the female side of the bathhouse before Virian spoke to her again. With a frown, she turned to him, finally meeting his eyes when he bent forward. Okay, come on, she wasn’t that much shorter than him, maybe only an inch or two. She frowned at Virian in confusion for a minute or two, not really sure if she believed him. But seeing him struggle to say “please” eventually convinced her. “Yeah. Fencing. Tomorrow...I’ll—I’ll see you at the dance.” She said quickly, before turning around and heading into the changing room, not giving Vie a chance to really respond to her. Was she feeling a little better after his apology? Yes. Was she happy again? No, not yet. Probably wouldn’t be until much later. But at least a little was better than nothing. 

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