Court of the Fallen
The Next Generation - Printable Version

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The Next Generation - Zariah - 07-19-2019

Zariah waited on a back balcony of the Manor, enjoying the Leafchange evening breeze, a glass of wine in her hand. She gaze over the grounds and the forest beyond, the sweet smell of flowers and falling leaves crisp in the air. Sitting on a padded bench was her four-year old Jace, his skin like his mother’s, as well as the color of his hair, though the texture of it and his features were clearly from his father – the most stand out feature though being his wide green eyes. The boy played quietly on the bench, captivated by a children’s book he held. It was quite tranquil actually. She ought do it more often. However, she knew the tranquility would be brief, a she was merely waiting for a guest to arrive.

She had plans, and her guest was integral to them.

A guard escorted her guest up to the balcony, where an untouched glass of wine await her. [say]”Hello, Rexanna. Thank you so much for coming with such haste on such short notice. Please sit.”[/say] she said, standing as Rexanna stepped out, gesturing to the chair next to hers.


RE: The Next Generation - Rexanna - 07-19-2019

She has been summoned by the Queen, and so she answers. Wearing her best set of clothing as per the norm for Rexanna, she makes her way to the Manor to see what awaits her. There’s a bit of an unsettling feeling in her stomach, she doesn’t know what to expect, and for Rexanna that’s typically the hardest part. Many times she at least has an idea of what she’s walking into – but with Zariah, every time is unexpected and so she tries to keep her mind blank in the face of what might become of this meeting.

Her heels click along the hall as the guard escorts her up toward the balcony, and she’s greeted with a crisp coolness to the air. It’s cold but not too cold, and she finds the outfit she’s worn to be perfect for a meeting outside, with a small amount of a fur scarf that covers her neck. Her hair is pulled back, dark and braided, and her eyes bright as she looks to her Queen and offers a curtsy in greeting.

Zariah greets her and she follows the gesture, taking the seat beside her Queen’s. Her eyes drift by the boy for a small moment but she says nothing unless asked. “[say]Thank you, your Grace.[/say]” She replies, and she waits quietly to see what the rush was all about.


RE: The Next Generation - Zariah - 07-19-2019

Ah, Rexanna is always so refreshing. So poised, so prepared, so perfectly kept, not just in style but manners. Such a shame the Grounds had so few civilized folk, such as herself. Zariah nods to her and sits, lifting her glass to her lips. [say]”Such a lovely evening, isn’t it? Leafchange is so refreshing and invigorating.”[/say] Zariah says, swirling the wine in her glass. [say]”It has me feeling contemplative, considering the future of the grounds, and the growth of the people.”[/say] she said with an almost wistful sigh.

The queen gestures to the boy on the bench, a small smile curving her lips. [say]”That is my youngest child, Jace. Such a smart young boy. I expect great things of him, given his perfect lineage of powerful magical ancestry.[/say] she said, glancing over at Rexanna again. [say]”Have you ever considered having children, Rexanna?”[/say]


RE: The Next Generation - Rexanna - 07-19-2019

Her sapphire gaze lingers toward Zariah as she remarks about the evening, to which Rexanna nods with a gentle smile of agreement. Leafchange was the one season that Rexanna was particularly fond of – where the previous months’ growths fade off to make room for new blooms to come in the next year. And so, she finds herself in agreement with her Queen, and she listens quietly as Zariah contemplates openly.

But then she gestures to the boy and Rexanna’s sapphire gaze drifts down toward the boy with a gentle smile of hello. She offers him a small little wave until Zariah’s next set of words almost stop her short. She lifts her head and looks toward her Queen, a small nod given. “[say]I have, your Grace.[/say]” She says softly, a bit contemplative. “[say]I hope to one day in the future.[/say]” She offers easily, a truth given, one known by many; but the point being in the future, rather than the now. The question leaves her a bit uneasy, and she waits to see what Zariah means by bringing it up. She knows enough about her Queen now to know she only brings up questions because she has plans, and it begins to sink in her stomach.


RE: The Next Generation - Zariah - 07-19-2019

[say]”Ah, the ever elusive future. One never knows how long or how quickly it will take to manifest.”[/say] she said, nodding a little. With a gesture of her hand, Jace scooted off his seat, carrying his book close to his chest as he toddled his way inside; an unnervingly well-behaved child given his age. For a moment she is silent, staring out at the view.

[say]”For centuries, the Launceleyns carefully bred to produce the most power and magically gifted offspring imaginable. It is a trait passed from the mother’s side predominantly, strengthened only by the presence of magic in the fathers bloodline. Through generations, this ability compounds, becomes stronger as it is reintroduced to the bloodline repeatedly.”[/say] she explains, taking a sip of her wine before looking at Rex. [say]”Of course here, this magical bloodline must be reestablished, and I should like you to be apart of it.”[/say] she said seriously, a small smile creeping to her lips.

[say]”I would see you married to Peter, my adopted cousin. He is a sweet man, with magical prowess, akin to yours…and I should think you’d make a lovely Launceleyn.”[/say]


RE: The Next Generation - Rexanna - 07-19-2019

She nods with Zariah about the future, but there’s a part of Rexanna that wishes to bear children only when she has settled – and the woman has hardly settled at all given all of the circumstances. Still, she remains silent, watching as the child makes his way inside with just a gesture of Zariah’s hand, a brow raising slightly as she grows curious.

Her gaze lifts back toward her Queen as she speaks of the Launceleyn blood line and the strength of it all, and for a moment she feels transported back – her King, mentioning the blood lines of her own family, tied into tradition and aiming to keep her secret until she needed to be used, selling her off to the highest bidder. Her stomach sinks further, as she gathers an idea that Zariah may be hinting at. She mentions that she wishes Rexanna to be a part of it, and there’s small lump that grows in her throat.

What she doesn’t expect, however, is the bachelor she speaks of. Her eyes widen a small fraction at the mention of Peter’s name, a small smile crossing her features. “[say]Peter?[/say]” She pauses. “[say]Forgive me, your Grace, he is a very kind and sweet man…[/say]” She doesn’t know how to continue it, how to mention that she doesn’t wish to be a part of another arranged marriage (seeing how well her last one turned out). She wonders if Peter knows of this, what his thoughts on the matter are, and if it would really matter anyway. “[say]I was already part of an arranged marriage once before, things did not… Necessarily go well in that regard.[/say]”

Her gaze drifts from Zariah then. “[say]Forgive me if I’m cautious.[/say]” She doesn’t know how to say no in the face of Zariah. “[say]I will need to think about it.[/say]”


RE: The Next Generation - Zariah - 07-19-2019

Zariah smirks at Rexanna's reaction, resisting the urge to outright laugh. But as she further airs her concerns, Zariah cannot help a mirthless chuckle. [say]"My dear, I can assure you whatever your previous experience this arrangement will be hardly compatible."[/say] she says in an almost pur. The queen reaches out to hold her arm, as if comforting her before doing something terrifying. But really, she begins to let her suggestivity magic seep into her bones, winding through to her mind and soul.

[say]"As you say, Peter is a sweet and kind man. I know you are attached to that Ascended fellow, but he cannot give you the children you desire, can he? Moreover, you'd have my full support to keep him at your side while fulfilling your duties as wife to Peter since there would be no concern of bastard children, and besides...where better can you protect those you care for than from the royal family?"[/say]


RE: The Next Generation - Rexanna - 07-19-2019

Rexanna hears Zariah, but it doesn’t register. Everyone can place pretty words over their true meanings, and while Peter is nice – it isn’t him she’s concerned about. Still, she remains silent, nodding in agreement despite the anxiety bubbling beneath her skin. When Zariah reaches over and grabs onto her arm, her head snaps up toward the Queen with an almost shadowed sapphire gaze.

The words she speaks are just that, too, pretty words placed over the idea of something terrible. And she mentions Bastien, as though that’s reason enough to marry someone else, have someone else’s child, when all she’d want is to bear a child of her own and Bastien’s genetics. Despite his Ascended status, she recalls Phoebe’s mention of the possibility of Frey’s help in the matter. And perhaps even the Voice might be able to do something like that, too. She mulls over the idea, but inevitably finds it to not mesh with her ideals, her feelings on the matter.

And it terrifies her, if she’s being honest.

And in terms of protection, that’s all Rexanna has ever wanted. But at what cost? She thinks of Deimos and Kiada, of her separate life in Helovia where she had left the Reaper for the protection of her husband there – a King, a royal family, only for it to go south too. There was no way in Rexanna’s mind that this could work, and she inhales deeply, her eyes softening as she looks at Zariah and offers a small smile. “[say]This is a lot to take in, your Grace. I will need some time to adjust, if that's okay?[/say]” She asks with a tilt of her head and a gentle smile across her features.


RE: The Next Generation - Zariah - 07-19-2019

Her smile would have faltered, were her gaze not so trained to remain however she placed it. Clearly her magic did not work as well on Rexanna as she might have hoped. The queen withdrew her hand from the young woman’s arm, sipping at her wine. [say]”It is a lot I suppose, though I would have though this quite blissful news, with very few if any downsides.”[/say] She said, gaze moving out towards the view for a moment, before sliding back to Rexanna.

[say]”I do recall you agreeing to support me publically for Bastien’s freedom…what greater support statement could you make than marrying one of our own? And really…it is a bit hurtful your hesitancy. I am offering you quite a lot.”[/say] she said, eyeing the woman carefully. Familial connections to the royal family, the children she wanted, and still with the man she loved at her side – really what more could she want?


RE: The Next Generation - Rexanna - 07-19-2019

Rexanna nods, wondering how much of Zariah’s mood has just changed because of the inadvertent denial. Looking away from her Queen, she too, looks out over the view of the balcony. It is blissful news, but at this point Rexanna doesn’t know what she wishes for more. The ability to bear children, or the comfort of Bastien at her side without trying to constantly try for children. And besides, if her womb still cannot bear children like she believes it can’t, is she really willing to tread that water?

What kind of action would Zariah take against her if she’s unable to bear children anyway? There’s also a thought that passes through her mind, and it’s of kind, sweet Peter who loved soft things and recognition, only to be paired with her as her husband. The thought of trying to bear his children sends her stomach further down in it’s torment. She doesn’t want any part of it, doesn’t want Peter to be any part of it either. But if Zariah had told Peter of the plans, would he try to change her mind too?

Just another hopeless, awkward, terrible marriage? She chews on the inside of her lip as Zariah speaks more, and she nods yet it’s not enough for her. None of it is enough. She simply wants to be and have nothing expected of her, though it’s unlikely she could be so lucky. And she’s treading water in the denial of her Queen, an idea that sends her stomach even further. “[say]I understand, your Grace.[/say]” She finally manages to say, unable to tell Zariah of her past and her hesitancies, unwilling to. “[say]I have only spoken with Peter once, and I would like to at least get to know him better before it all.[/say]” She admits, eyes remaining away from her Queen as they darken further.


RE: The Next Generation - Zariah - 07-19-2019

[say]”I see.”[/say] Zariah said with a quiet sigh, swirling her glass of wine as she looked out at the view again. The crisp fall air, the pretty orange colors of the leaves…such unsavory circumstances unfolding. [say]”I was hoping it would not come to this, truly, for I like you very much Rexanna.”[/say] Zariah said, smiling at her in a way that, for once, seemed genuine and honest. But all too quickly did it fade, replaced with her porcelain mask of nothingness.

[say]”I am afraid I must insist on this arrangement.”[/say] she said, her tone firm and serious. [say]”You will marry Peter, and you will bear his children, by royal order. Should you do anything to compromise this, I am afraid you and your dear ascended will face serious consequences.”[/say] she said, with such an air of calm she may as well have been discussing the weather. [say]”I look forward to your nuptials in the morning.”[/say]


RE: The Next Generation - Rexanna - 07-19-2019

Watching out over the balcony, Rexanna isn’t sure what to do next. But it seems she doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter, not as Zariah begins to speak and her gaze flits toward her Queen – a smile immediately disappearing under the guise of orders and orders and orders. Gods, did royalty ever change? Was she like this once upon a time, destined to rule alongside a tyrant monarch like she sits beside now? She inhales calmly, eyes remaining on the woman as she makes her demands.

She has to make a choice now.

And she chooses against a life dictated by yet another in power. Consequences be damned. Regardless of how calm Zariah sounds in the moment as she makes her claims, Rexanna has an air of fire and steel in her bones, and she hears the timeline that Zariah has stated for her. She’s trapped in a hard spot, and she doesn’t know where to go or what to do from there, but she knows that she cannot stay here, cannot remain in the shadow of the manor until morning. It's too much like a prison, like the dark cell she'd spent months in, all because of a similar situation. At the very least, she knows that Peter wouldn't treat her the way Calstron had, but she also knows Peter could never treat her the same that Bastien has, the freedom and love.

“[say]As you wish.[/say]” Her voice is flat and her eyes are dark, and she stands to leave, imagining that Zariah’s demands are done.


RE: The Next Generation - Zariah - 07-19-2019

As Rexanna stands, two guards step out from the manor, NPC1 and NPC 4, blocking her path. Zariah continues to sit, admiring the view for a few moments longer before she too rises, holding her glass of wine in delicate fingers. [say]”I am so glad to hear you’ve come to your senses, Rexanna. I am certain you will be very pleased with Peter and the children that he will soon give you.”[/say] she said with a cold smile.

[say]”Now, I am certain you would like your beauty rest in preparation for tomorrow. The guards and I shall lead you to your room for the evening where supper is already waiting for you.”[/say] she said. Clearly Zariah’s business was done, but Rexanna would not be allowed to leave. Oh no, how silly that would be. She just forced her hand, she wasn’t about to let her run away. If there was no fuss from Rex, she would be led through the winding halls of Launceleyn Manor to a small but comfortable room on the attic level. The only downside? No windows. Just thick stone walls. The only way in and out being the door, that the two guards would be carefully guarding.


RE: The Next Generation - Rexanna - 07-21-2019

Of course, as Rexanna stands and the guards prepare to lead her away, her eyes shutter and her hands shake — the pit of her stomach dropping out from beneath her. She barely hears Zariah’s words, barely feeling anything as she is led to her room to be locked away. A prisoner bride, once again. She chews on her lip the entire walk, quiet and calm in outside appearance only — inside she feels like screaming, like tearing the magic from her skin as if it’s the only reason Zariah finds her useful. Ah, but like always, she comes up with a plan.

When she’s locked within the room, with no windows for ’protection’ of sorts, she doesn’t have the stomach to eat. She doesn’t feel like she can do anything other than bide her time, what little of it she has left. And so she waits, a constant quell of calm and rage that comes and goes until finally finally, Rexanna steps across the floor to the door, knocking on it and asking the guards kindly to use the bathroom — praying there’s a window there to get out of.

And well, since she’s been quiet, they agree. Slowly leading her down the winding stairs toward the bathroom, they perch outside while she enters. The door closes behind her and she tries to find anything she can to block the door; a discarded chair pressed up under the door handle, quiet as to not raise suspicion. Her gaze flits around the room, seeking and searching, and that’s when she spots it — a rather thin window, but she thinks she’s small enough. She takes her jacket off, to leave her in only the corset and basic clothes in order to fit, and she tests it as she climbs up onto the back of the toilet and checks for weaknesses.

There are no bars that cross this window, only glass weathered by the storms of Caido. And she smiles quietly to herself as she prepares. She hasn’t used her magic in such a heightened emotional state, but she hopes it doesn’t affect her accuracy any (she doesn’t know she’s learned to control it better than before, able to do more than before) and with a slightly shaky hand hoping it works, she holds it up to the window and summons a large firework. She watches through one open eye as the gold and red projectile shoots from her hand straight through the glass, shattering it and leaving little shards of glass extended out, and she hears the guards on the other side begin to try to open the door. She doesn’t have much time, and she uses her jacket to push away the rest of the glass to try and prevent her arms being cut into ribbons.

Inhaling deeply, she hopes she can make it out, and she lets it out as she pulls herself up into the window, and put, feet first landing on somewhat wet, soft ground with a quiet thud. She doesn’t spend the time to check and see her arm that’s begun bleeding, nor the cuts in her clothing from where the fabric snagged — she runs as though her life depends on it. To Bastien, to the Voice, to become a weapon and no longer a pawn.

((Grant and I have agreed that Rex escapes!))