[center [size25 [Cinzel+Decorative The world has begun to crumble,]]][center [size25 [Cinzel+Decorative within a pit of its own [b filth].]]]
[center [font "hei medium" Those whom have once known what was a peaceful,]][center [font "hei medium" prosperous existence have been brought down to but a few.]][center [font "hei medium" Now, the world is in [i utter] [b disorder] and [b chaos].]]
[center [font "hei medium" In what was once a [i Utopian land],]][center [font "hei medium" the economy has crashed and all manner of resources to survive have been depleted. In a war of greed which followed shortly thereafter, attempting to pursue the futuristic means of replicating these resources, they too were lost in the confusion of luxury vs necessity.]]
[center [font "hei medium" All that had once been green and bountiful had been abandoned and left to decay, in such a short matter of time. Mothers would release their children from their care to ease financial burden - Fathers would shoot their families to save them from suffering further. Disease had spread, tearing the numbers of populations from billions down to the mere hundreds or fewer. Starvation had left not a single human being untouched. ]]
[center [font "hei medium" What had once been common pleasures, now seemed to be a far-off dream from a previous life.]][center [font "hei medium" A glistening memory, in this [b dark world].]]
[center [font "hei medium" Within six years of [i The End's] beginning, the world had become practically inhabitable - rotting to the point of less than one half of the planet's large surface to be habitable.]]
[center [font "hei medium" That was, until a [b single man] whom had the means to alter this disaster that had befallen humanity,]][center [font "hei medium" had stood up. A voice whom many had forgotten, for he had spent many a year in the cell of a mental asylum.]][center [font "hei medium" A professor-[i turned]-protester, whom warned of what was coming for several years. ]][center [font "hei medium"He foretold the destruction of this utopia, and, as the reality of his research had shocked humanity -]][center [font "hei medium" it had become a means for his escape. Where he had prepared for safety for years, he retained much of what others had lost. Once more, he would face the remaining world leaders - a man whom had been of no ability or power, ambitiously standing up for what he believed. His belief, to [b permit the world to rest.]]]
[center [font "hei medium" Any remaining nuclear matter that had been converted into assisting building this utopia, ]][center [font "hei medium"would be disposed of - for it had been slowly destroying the world for decades. The devastation left between remaining, pathetic rebellions of what had once been proud countries would cease. He declared the lands that had been plundered in an attempt to survive, be left. The few remaining fertile lands, would be divided evenly. ]][center [font "hei medium" He would recycle what could be saved to create a safe haven, for those whom deserved mercy. ]]
[center [font "hei medium" For a time, they would revert to the 'old ways' and retrain themselves. To his greatest supporters, he awarded a small portion of land and titles of Lord and Lady. With a small village's worth of people, they would rebuild their homes. To those who looked after these villages, he awarded titles of royalty based upon their merits. To loyal villagers, he promoted them to become well-paid individuals, despite their rank of servitude.]]
[center [font "hei medium" To those who served this purpose the greatest, he would personally summon their children to the Academy he had built. Therein, allowing them to continue their interrupted schooling to be trained to be unspoiled. To move past the pride and selfish arrogance, that their parents had allowed. To learn to overlook greed and malice, to save the world; to permit spoiled children to experience the hard work, of the olden days. Their lives would become what he had them study, in old history text books. An era they would only roll their eyes toward, as it had been recognized ad nothing more than frills and white wigs.]]
[center [font "hei medium" Welcome, to the [b New World]. [#ffffff _______________]Welcome to[#ffffff _____________]]][center [size32 [Cinzel+Decorative [b T R E L E A U [#ffffff x] A C A D E M Y]]]]
[center [pic http://oi63.tinypic.com/20ggysw.jpg ]][right [font "hei medium" [size10 A roleplay by [http://rp.eliteskills.com/u.php?u=38996 [font "hei medium" Mikaze]]. Coding by [http://rp.eliteskills.com/u.php?u=4297 [font "hei medium" Apt]].]]]
[center [font "hei medium" Please note that this is a historical roleplay and is not to]][center [font "hei medium" focus upon the utopian Old World, or the dystopian world of The End.]] [center [font "hei medium" In the event you are interested in partaking, then please visit the link below for more information.]]
[center [font "hei medium" [i | the roleplay will begin at the start of Treleau Academy's]]][center [font "hei medium" [i first year. Servants have been invited to begin moving]]][center [font "hei medium" [i themselves into the castle at their leisure, over the last]]][center [font "hei medium" [i few months - until now, they have been permitted to]]][center [font "hei medium" [i leave the grounds thus far. With the approach of the beginning]]][center [font "hei medium" [i of the semester, they have been rarely permitted to leave.]]][center [font "hei medium" [i They have been expected to prepare the castle and be there]]][center [font "hei medium" [i in time to receive their Royals' luggage, which would have]]][center [font "hei medium" [i been sent during the previous months. Servants will be]]][center [font "hei medium" [i expected to receive their Royals formally and introduce]]][center [font "hei medium" [i themselves for the first time, face-to-face. They will]]][center [font "hei medium" [i settle them comfortably, before attending a banquet]]][center [font "hei medium" [i in the evening and a ball afterward as a formal welcome.]]][center [font "hei medium" [i The following morning will be the first day of each roles']]][center [font "hei medium" [i duties. We will begin on the day of the Royals' arrival. |]]]
[center [font "hei medium" | rules and information are found at [http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=378004 x] |]]
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[center [font "book antiqua" A blonde eyebrow perked at the woman’s words. Dignity and pride as a lady? Sofi resisted the urge to laugh in her face. After spending so much time with men, and pretending to be one, there was no dignity and pride as a lady left in her. Sofi bunched up her own skirts and lifted the blue fabric to reveal a tight fitting pair of shorts atop her leggings. In her youth, she’d had a few too many experiences with the boys from her village attempting to peak under her dress to not wear shorts underneath them.
“I believe that I am the wrong person to be discussing a matter of pride with. I’d sooner go naked than be delegated to a life of saving face like most ladies.” She lowered her dress and smoothed it out across her hips. “Then again, what can I expect from someone who tries to act so prim and proper? If you insist upon refusing to move yourself or lift your skirts, then I will move you, myself.” Sofi was a bit stronger than the average woman of her build. Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to lift Cordelia with the entirety of her flounce, but she would be able to move her out of the way enough to quickly and safely rescue Sidney from the cloth prison he’d crawled into.
Rather than attempt to refute her words any further, the blonde girl moved closer to Cordelia- taking wide strides despite the heeled boots on her small feet. Though, as she reached out to press the other girl out of her way, a small cinnamon colored hedgehog poked its head out from underneath the frills of the girl’s dress. Sofi kneeled quickly and scooped the small critter into her hands before it could run away once again into god knew where.
“Looks like you get to keep your so called pride and dignity after all.” Her gloved fingers petted the furry creature’s head- being careful of his quills as they were more prominent now that he was frightened. “I’m just glad he wasn’t stepped on or hurt.” Despite him being an animal, in this place, she’d take all the friends she could get. “Maybe if you didn’t wear such impossible clothing you could see more of your surroundings. You talk of pride, but perhaps you shouldn’t whilst waddling around under all of those layers.”
A small, pointed nose pressed into the air, and that, Sofi left the room to find her quarters. They’d been promised separate rooms, but she had a sinking feeling that’d been a lie. As the door swung open, that sinking feeling was only made worse by the confirmation that they would not have separate rooms. She placed Sidney in his cage which had been placed on the floor near the bed labeled with her name. “Joy,” She muttered sarcastically- seating herself on the hard bed. Living with others was one thing, but living with people like Cordelia- well- that’d be a struggle, and she knew it.]]
[center [font "batang che" "No," came her curt reply, swift to defend herself. A pout would curl her lip outward in a spoiled manner, which she would then bite back into place - partially out of realizing she had lost some of her dignity at the action, but also wishing to prevent herself from showing any form of weakness around those she hadn't befriended. With the way things were proceeding, becoming friends with anyone present would be quite the long shot. This, she was certain of.]]
[center [font "batang che" Her shoulders would alternate in rolling motions, as her head tilted about the room in a discomforted manner. Her gaze flickering up toward the ceiling; a physical deflection of the sheer embarrassment she had felt. With the single word she had uttered, Cordelia understood the situation would only escalate from this point onward. If such were to be the case, she would not back down easily.]]
[center [font "batang che" "What proof do you have, that such a [i thing] has found its way beneath my skirts?" Easily evading the request to lift them, her tone had faltered as Cordelia held herself extremely still. A little sweat breaking out on the palms of her gloved hands, as she hadn't known if the creature was capable of causing her harm. Her involvement with animals had been limited to what she could see from her windows at home, or what she had read in books. She had nothing to prove if the creature was under there, but then again - there was nothing to say it wasn't. Due to the sheer size of her skirts, she hadn't a clue if it were truly there - and she was far too frightened to move. "I shall not lift them," she continued in a haughty tone. "It is a matter of dignity and pride, for a Lady to not flounce her skirts about so [i readily.] Do you not have your own sense of pride?"]]
[center [font "batang che" Her fan had raised toward the one who demanded she moved, with her words. "On the other hand, do you [i truly] wish for myself to move? You see, I am unable to see what is under here, just as much as you. What if I were to crush the creature? Who [i then] would be responsible? Are you willing to take the risk? More importantly, what would happen to my shoes.." her misplaced concern had her shuffling about just slightly. "Retrieve it if you must, but you must find another method. I have no interest in displaying myself for all of you to see!"]]
[center [pic http://s31.postimg.org/rmjg3hxpn/Emile.jpg]]
[center [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMabp5vnx_o [pic https://s13.postimg.org/acdgridqf/Emile_border.jpg]]]
[font "Tempus Sans ITC" [size14 [i Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack]]]
[font "Bookman Old Style" The wheels of the carriage rolled across the uneven ground as the horse pulled it and the two humans that were traveling. One of them was the driver, familiar with the horse as an owner should be. The other was a young man with who slept soundly inside despite the stiff, formal attire he wore. They were slightly rustled due to the way he lied down and the lack of attention to them as he slept. A breeze managed to slip through the curtains of the carriage, playing with the already unruly black hair.
The royal managed to have a dreamless rest for most of his nap; seeing nothing and hearing silence. However, that gradually changed as the darkness melted away to reveal shadowy images. The mumblings of voices he thought he recognized were barely audible at first, but gradually became louder and clearer. When his dream-vision cleared, the first thing he saw was the barrel of a gun facing him. In the background was Florence’s crying with nothing interrupting or attempting to stop it. Eventually he had the courage to look up, but it was rather pointless considering how blurred the man’s face looked. It had been so many years that he no longer remembered what his father looked like. The only detail that stuck out was the steel blue eyes that sent shivers down his spine.
“Make your decision,” the man said, voice clear and strong despite the situation.
A flash of white washed away the scene, clearing it for a new image to appear before him. This time it was a much friendlier face, slightly tanned due to the amount of time he spent outdoors . Dirty blond hair got in the teen’s face as he leaned towards the other, hand stretched out and a grin taking over half of his face.
“It’s up to you, man,” Lance said, though it was clear what he was hoping for. “But shutting yourself away from everyone is going to get old at some point.”]
[right [font "Tempus Sans ITC" [size14 [i Click-clack, click-clack]]]]
[font "Bookman Old Style" Gradually, dull blues opened up to the sunlight of late morning/early afternoon. The carriage rattled as one of the wheels dipped into a hole and Émile pushed himself into an upright position. Cautiously, he peeked outside. The area was, by no exaggeration, beautiful. There was a feeling of calm although he was hardly receptive of it. Just in the distance was the academy where he would be spending most of his days up until graduation . As they pulled up, he looked over every inch of the grounds that were in sight, making sure that nothing out of the ordinary stuck out to him.
As soon as they stopped, he opened the door to the carriage and stepped out. The driver, who had jumped down to help him, was shocked to see that the young man had already helped himself. “I-I am sorry, sir. I was making my way—“ Émile proceeded to the back where he grabbed his own bag, granted that there was only one. The driver proceeded to get even more nervous by his action. “D-Do you need any help, sir?”
“No,” was all he said in reply.
The driver cleared his throat as he adjusted his otherwise perfectly fine clothes. “Very well, then.”
He then climbed back onto the carriage and led the horse away from the drop off point, assumingly returning to wherever he had come from originally. The royal, meanwhile, carried his bag towards a building, assuming it to be the living quarters but would not be sure until fully investigated.
Émile froze in place as soon as he spotted the group of people gathered at the entrance to said building. He wasn’t quite sure what happened, all he knew that something clearly happened and it was becoming a scene. There were too many faces and pieces of info for him to gather which caused an invisible bug to crawl under his skin. He tugged at the edges of his gloves until they felt tight around his hands, although they were not designed to be tight. Though he focused on walking forward, his feet remained fully attached to the ground.
How does one proceed in this kind of situation normally? Well, what could be normal about whatever method if the situation itself is not deemed normal? It is assumed that a person would cautiously walk up and either see if they could provide assistance, be there to simply eaves drop, or attempt to move past them as quickly as possible. None of those sounded pleasant to him for they all screamed potential dangers which quickly lead to a trap. There were so many things that could go wrong and unpredictable variables to consider that his mind was drawing a blank.
Eventually, Émile’s feet did move, but not in the direction of the building or the people gathered in front of it. Instead, they moved away into a remote-looking location on the academy grounds. He eventually found himself surrounded by more trees than buildings and he knew he found a temporary safe space. As he leaned against a tree, the breath he did not realize he was holding released into the air and his lungs proceeded to do their job. Glancing down, he noticed that his bag was still in his hand. He had completely forgotten about it until that moment and decided to put it down on the ground for the time being. He focused on nothing but breathing as long fingers tapped without a set rhythm against his thighs.]
[center Crisp fresh air swept through tresses the colour of cornsilk. Tendrils of gold tossed with the abrupt turn of her tall figure as she about-faced to stalk back from whence she'd come. Where exactly had that chap gone off with her horse? She'd told him she would be coming [i right] back, and the next she knew, he'd disappeared. Taking a moment to draw in a deep breath and calm herself, she'd marched back towards the castle proper. Her long strides got her to the closest entrance relatively quickly, and before long, the blonde was within the confines of the grand castle once again.
Heels clicked deliberately against polished floors, her pace never failing in its time as she rounded the counter and ascended to a higher floor. The trip was a tedious one, but from whence she'd come, it was the easiest to take. Royals had already begun to arrive, and she wished to be present in receiving them as well.
The speed with which she took the stairs only disturbed as much as her sunny cheveux when at last she had descended into the foyer - only to see mayhem erupt. A small creature skittered beneath the skirts of a young woman's dress - a royal, obviously - and a male was sprawled on the floor in her. . . person effects. Quite the interesting sight to be met with, and in the midst of it all, a male she recognised as 'Kellan' was bowing deeply in greeting to what looked to be one of their new royal residents.
When Solomon had first arrived at Treleau, she hadn't been sure what to expect, but among the melange of emotion had been a particular excitement for the potential enrichment she would receive here. That, and the opportunity to afford a royal what talents or skills she did possess did give her some pleasure.
Perhaps that was something she'd inherited from her mother. She took pride in her position, though some would look down upon the status of a servant. She supposed that was [i their] issue, however. As servants, in her opinion, were just as necessary as those of higher status were. Solomon liked to think there was a balance of some sort to be maintained.
Whilst she remained free of any specific charge, Solomon had taken it upon herself to assist with any duties where she could whilst there happened to be no royal that needed her assistance. She had to fill her days with [i something], after all.
The scene she'd come upon had her furrowing her brows. Dear fates. . . [i what the bloody-]
Were those her-? [i Oh, dear.]
Bowing politely to the male as well, she offered a smile and turned to approach the distressed royal, offering a polite, modified curtsy of sorts. "Good day, Milady. . . Oh, my. . . it would seem we have quite an interesting set of circumstances." Her gaze shifted to Kallum.
Her gaze couldn't have been more sympathetic, but she kept her demeanour utterly calm as she lowered to quickly pluck up all of the undergarments and clothing, including the pair of panties in his hands to set them back into the bag they belonged in.
Offering the male a hand, she quietly murmured, "Are you all right?"
Today, she had the audacity to wear a pair of knee high boots that gave her another good three inches, a pair of trousers, and ruffle-trimmed, high-collared blouse beneath a leather corset. From her neck hung pocket watch. Her hands were clad in a pair of soft, matching leather gloves.
What to do about the circumstances of the little creature, however. . . Her gaze shifted to the royal who'd demanded she lift up her skirts or move. What an awkward circumstance. If anyone else wandered into this mess, they'd all be in quite the spot.
Her eyes flit back to the royal beyond the door and another quiet sigh left her. It had been so quiet when Solomon had stepped out. How was it that disaster had struck in such a short time? It would have been a lie to say it wasn't amusing, but nevertheless.
"As for the creature. . . might we see if we cannot retrieve it?" She requested gently in an attempt to deescalate the circumstances. Both royal ladies seemed to be agitated. At the very least, the royal to have arrived was being aided accordingly.
Another day in the life, she guessed. It reminded her very much of doing odd jobs. Helping where she could, if the circumstance ever came about. However, she often attempted to refrain from involving herself too much directly. This time, of course, being an exception. She couldn't just leave Kallum there on the floor - worse to be accused, and it would help his Lady none whatsoever to feel so distraught.
Stepping to one side, she decidedly removed herself from the immediate vicinity, eyes sliding down to the hem of her dress. She didn't like the thought of that little creature potentially escaping and becoming lost.]
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[center [font "book antiqua" Fingers applied a gentle pressure against delicate petals as the white haired individual attached to them trimmed the garden, and made sure that the weeds didn’t grow where the rather elegant flowers were supposed to. In the time that he’d been here, he had noticed that those that tended to the gardens didn’t take care of them the way that he was used to tending to the plants back at the flower shop. Kellen was starting to wonder why exactly he’d been called here. As he was certain that tending to the flowers was not exactly the reason why someone who’d dropped out of school not even a year or two before was being called to attend a somewhat prestigious institution.
At this point, he’d seen neither hide nor hair of the royals that were supposedly attending as well. He paid even less attention to the fact that there were no females to speak- or at least that he’d seen anyway. The wheels of a carriage were loud on the gravel. Luckily, their attention fell elsewhere, and he fell unnoticed. Though, he did notice a rather adventurous cinnamon colored creature scampering off in the direction of the school. An attempt to catch it succeeded only in him scraping his elbow on the sharp gravel. “[i Damn,]” He mused mentally.
Dirty and disheveled as he was from trimming the hedges and flowers, and not to mention attempting to catch critters, Kellen retreated inside from an alternate entrance to avoid the commotion that had stirred since the arrival of the others. He traded in the gardening smock for a dress shirt, dress pants, and vest. It wasn’t really attire that he felt suited him, but he would not argue with dress-code as his father had begged him to attend. The D’arcy boy plucked the chain from underneath the dress shirt and rubbed at the engraved pendant between his thumb and index finger. Dropping it momentarily, he braided the forelocks of his white hair into a braid. It was comfortable and a practical change in hairstyle.
He descended the stairs- watching the commotion that occurred. Though his gaze was caught by a rather familiar looking creature as it crawled underneath a woman’s dress. Were he braver, he would have attempted to move her skirts aside to try to save the poor creature, but he didn’t desire to be on the end of a tongue lashing himself. He didn’t know who to feel sorry for- either way it was certainly not the bossy woman that berated the red haired man for stumbling into her undergarments.
Without so much as a word to those involved in the scene, he moved one of the suitcases blocking the front door- opening it for those who would remained outside to come in as well. There were far too many people in this setting for him to feel any kind of comfort. Kellen resorted instead to a formal bow in terms of greeting the man at the door- fingers once again returning to the calming pendant around his neck. The other- offering to take the male’s luggage so that he wouldn’t have to take his own things to his room. ]]
The carriage ride was the best thing to happen to him in a very long time. Allen could barely contain his excitement, sitting up at the window and staring out, wide-eyed, at the countryside passing by. Every now and again, people would wave as he passed by, and he would wave back, happy to see happy people. Not everyone was happy, no; but they always seemed to smile around him.
The hills rolled with greenery, shrubs clinging to the lowlands, lofty trees ascending to the heavens; it was so very different compared to the way it'd been before. Like something out of a picture book. And he understood why the old books had always gone on at length about the beauty of the land, looking out at it; because it was beautiful, it was incredible, and he felt lesser for having never gone to see it before.
But here he was now, so he couldn't complain.
Hours passed by quickly, each one drawing him closer to the end of the ride. He didn't want it to ever end, except that at the end of the ride were new people to meet, a new place to explore, and he could hardly wait to meet his new friends. Would they be his friends? Not all of them, but some, at least, and he could hardly wait to meet them--except that waiting took the form of watching this beauteous scenery pass by his window.
A castle came up at last, something he had only seen in artwork brought to life. He grinned, a little giggle escaping out of sheer excitement. So pretty! Ah, he needed to be inside already. He wanted to see it all, the grand entrance, the ballroom, the gardens--oh, there would be gardens, right?--the servant's quarters, the kitchens, all of it. As the carriage slowed, he checked over his clothes one last time, straightening fabric, adjusting the braids. He pulled a comb from his pocket and brushed his hair down once more, straightening it out from where the carriage had mussed it. As they drew up to the entrance road, his stomach leaped,and when the carriage finally jolted to a halt, he couldn't contain himself any longer, but leaped out, footman be damned. Wow! A real-life castle! Right here! And the magnificent grounds, all the stately carriages,the nicely-dressed men and women just visible through the front windows...playing with panties?
Allen blinked, a bit taken aback. Surely there was a good explanation, though! He knew it.
One of the footmen started unpacking his luggage; he didn't have much. Books, mostly, two trunks of clothes. Okay, maybe he did have a lot. But he could carry it. Half of it.
"Do you think you could help me?" he asked the footman, beaming a smile in his direction. "I only have two hands, you know."
"You've a servant somewhere..." the footman grumbled, looking around.
"Oh, let's not trouble him!" Allen told the footman. "Just as far as the door, and I'll make two trips to the dorm."
The footman looked at him, then shrugged. "If you're sure," he said.
"Of course!" Allen assured him. He took the two nearest trunks and led the way. Up towards the front door, and all the other men and women. He pushed the door, but it seemed it was blocked by something, so he knocked instead. Behind him, the footman sighed, glancing back at his carriage. Allen glanced back, then realized--he was obstructing the man's duties, and blocking the way of all the other carriages.
"I've got it from here," he told the footman. With a relieved glance at him, the footman nodded and ran back off to the carriages, glad to be off. Allen moved the other two trunks nearer and shifted his weight, waiting for the door to open. If he angled them all right, he'd be able to swing them through the door in one go...if the door ever opened.
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[center [font "book antiqua" Soft squeaks drew green eyes down to a cinnamon colored hedgehog. The jostling of the carriage seemed to upset the poor creature. Sofi understood his discomfort as she too hated traveling long distances like this. It was much different than traveling by car which was by far much smoother than this. To her, it felt like the nauseous feeling that she felt after eating anything or drinking anything that was made with dairy. If it lasted much longer, she would lose her breakfast for certain.
The driver could have been a bit gentler with his driving, but she supposed that he too was in a rush to be done with this journey so that he could do whatever it was that he was so eager to do. “It’s okay, Sidney, I promise we’re almost there. Maybe someone will get some whipped cream tonight~ Or even a few extra grub worms for dinner~” She rarely fed him fatty foods or overfed him, but he’d earned it this time. The girl hoped that her dorm-mate didn’t mind the furry creature as she’d no intent of getting rid of him. Sofi extended a gloved hand down into the travel carrier for Sidney, and brushed her index finger against him gently to calm him down. Even though she took careful care of her hands to ensure that they remained undamaged, she was willing to allow herself to be pricked by herself to be pricked by her small companion’s quills that didn’t hurt all that much to begin with.
It felt so strange to be returning to school so soon after leaving one, but it was also exciting at the same time- surreal even. Though, after attending an all boy’s school, anything would feel surreal, she imagined. A soft snort left the girl. It was also strange to be attending the school as “Sofi” instead of “Sidney”; she was so used to the male alias by now that addressing herself as “Sofi” in public seemed strange. The chance to have interaction with other people that were not her family or the townspeople was something that excited her more than she would admit.
Sofi lifted Sidney onto her lap carefully. The carriage hit a hole in the road hard enough to jostle her to where she dropped the poor critter onto the floor of the carriage. As the door opened, she all but threw herself outside- not even caring that she was wearing a skirt or that it might be unbecoming of a princess to get her socks dirty on the grass. “Milady, we’ve arrived. You might wish to put your shoes on before you go inside?” She cast him a menacing glare, but accepted the advice and slid the heeled boots onto her feet.
“Princess, you are Sidney,” The man mused knowingly- befuddled at the girl’s question. She smoothed down the pockets in her blue skirt to make sure that he wasn’t hiding in the frills of her dress.
“No, not me. My pet,” Came her clipped response as she hoisted herself back up into the carriage to check the floor. He wasn’t there either. Casting a look back to the large school in front of her, she let out a frustrated groan. He could easily be anywhere. “This is your fault.” She hissed- taking the travel carrier with her as she once more left the infernal contraption that’d carried her here. “Next time, be a bit gentler with the landing.” The blonde pressed her nose to the air- not even caring about what he had to say next.
The grounds of the school were lovely, but she hadn’t much time to check them out in much detail as the brown hedgehog could be hiding literally anywhere. She frantically moved around- moving branches out of the way to check and see if he was hiding. More than likely, he would be thrilled by all of the new things that he would be able to eat. Sofi found it strange that there had not been people about to greet them, but perhaps it was for the best that there were less feet walking about and less chances that someone might accidentally trample her prickly companion.
After giving up the search of the garden, the blonde was a bit disheveled, but she smoothed her short hair back down as it had been before she’d left the carriage. Sofi supposed she might as well play the part of a royal lady- despite never having truly acted like one before. She opened the front door of the manor- awed by the inside. The way that it echoed reminded her so much the places she loved to perform. A screaming voice drew her attention back to her mission. She drew closer to the girl who was currently screaming at a male who held a pair of undergarments in his hands. Sofi was less interested in what she was saying, and far more interested in the critter that ran toward the girl’s bountiful skirts.
“Pardon, I do hate to interrupt, but, this is truly of import.” Sofi motioned to the creature as it disappeared underneath the other woman’s legs. “My hedgehog crawled underneath your skirts. Move or lift up your skirt so I can grab him.” Sofi demanded impatiently. She’d truly had enough chasing him around, and would rather just put him where he belonged so that she could go about her own business. ]]
[center [font "batang che" In a frantic motion, her gloved hands would grasp out onto the side of the carriage as it had bumped and jarred about, leaving the Lady Cordelia to be thrown about awkwardly within. " .. I miss the cars," she would complain to herself as she stared out of the window and tried to not give into the urge to be ill. A mixture of an obviously new carriage driver who seemed incapable of keeping the carriage in the middle of the road, her nervousness, as well as her extremely constricting and heavy layers had all contributed to her discomfort. Carriages had been one thing that Cordelia hadn't had much practice with and remained unaccustomed to. When she had romanticized the twelve-hour journey in her mind to be charming, reality had hit her quite hard. She hadn't been allowed out more than twice. Sleeping had been out of the question, at least, until she could fill the exhaustion build. Her head rested upon the side of the carriage and, with difficulty, she gave into sleep within the final four hours of her trip.]]
[center [font "batang che" "Madame, we have arrived."]]
[center [font "batang che" "To you, it is Princess," she would answer in a snide tone still wracked with sleep on impulse as she had awoken once the carriage door had opened. Although she slept through the remainder of the trip, Cordelia had hardly felt rested. Even so, she had been excited to see the sight of the castle outside of her window. To her dismay, she hadn't the time to properly prepare herself. The earrings she had stuck in upon her departure were stuck between the seats, after annoying her with their bouncing. Her necklace had been removed as well, although it was safely kept in her lap. Her legs were aching and the elastics in her all-too-expensive gown had become itchy. Falling asleep had only made her more miserable, but she couldn't wait for the welcome she would receive once inside. Her imagination had went wild, distracting her from the apologies of the footmen that were preparing to help her from the carriage, as she gathered herself together. She had imagined a beautiful grand entrance, complete with spotlights and flower petals decorating a red carpet. There would be music and, just like a 'proper Princess', she would arrive fashionably late to be the belle of the ball. She would be the final one to arrive and be escorted to the ballroom, where she would enter through a winding staircase. Her breath would catch and, at the bottom, would be her servant dressed in the attire she had sent beforehand. But that would not be. Cordelia would enter some time later into the castle, to find- ..]]
[center [font "batang che" Nothing. Nobody.]]
[center [font "batang che" There hadn't been even so much as a welcome mat.]]
[center [font "batang che" "Well!" she would throw her hands into the air as she whirled around, looking for someone to show her some form of direction. Certainly this wasn't the correct room? Perhaps she had arrived a little [i too] late and the festivities were taking place in another room? Curiously, she would begin to fumble awkwardly from room to room. Limping slightly upon her high heels, attempting to not cling to the walls with every step she took. [i That] had been another thing she had yet to overcome, as a Royal. Her thumbs would slip into the loops of the zippered clutch she held, wondering is she should perhaps alter her footwear and exchange them for the flats in the pouch. The idea would remain in the back of her mind as she wandered around, confused as to where on earth the reception party ought to be? It had been in a letter she received, detailing promises of her own room as well. Finally, she had managed to spot someone wandering about the halls and bothered them to guide her to her room - which they seemed to know the location of, without even needing to ask her name. It had struck her as fairly odd, however she followed the individual and attempted to hold herself high and proud. It had seemed, as they had drawled on as they lead the way, she had been far too early. The reception had yet to take place and it would be best for her to remain "out of the way." Having taken offense, the individual was swiftly smacked across the head with her clutch-purse. She decided to take the lead, showing herself down the corridor and peeking her head into each room. Until, she had eventually come across a room of rose gold and soft shades of pink and cream. Investigating, it appeared to be a women's dormitory. As she walked down the long line of beds upon either side, she had noticed the lounge chairs at the foot of each bed had served as a dual-function. There had been a lock upon each and a name-plate with the owners' name etched in elegant handwriting. Eventually, she had come across her own. Appalled that she hadn't received the private room she had been promised, but instead expected to live in this- ..]]
[center [font "batang che" this- ..]]
[center [font "batang che" [i Farmhouse-like place.]]]
[center [font "batang che" Although it had been elegant, it would in no way match her high standards and romanticized ideals about what Treleau Academy was supposed to be like. Without seeing any sign of any of her things, Cordelia would turn and stomp out of the room.]]
[center [font "batang che" With each of her petite little curls bouncing with each step and her heels digging into her feet, Cordelia would strut herself right out of the room and off to find the person who had shown her the way. Their ear would be grasped the moment she found them and she would demand loudly to be shown the direction to where her personal effects could possibly be, and where she might find her servant. Having scared the poor thing, they had lead her practically across the castle it would seem. Until finally, she had come across a rather slim staircase and was directed to the bottom, for the luggage hold had been at the base. With a pouted, reluctant thank-you to them, she would descend slowly. Whimpering out with each time she nearly fell off her heels, leaving her to cling to the wall until she hopped off the last step.]]
[center [font "batang che" " .. What [i are] you doing?" Cordelia had been furious to see a young male, rather sloppy in appearance, upon his hands and knees in front of her own trunk. She had been able to identify it by the lace trim which matched the design of the fan tucked into her clutch-purse, as well as- .. "Are you [i aware] of whom those undergarments belong?! You vile- ..!" Her voice would raise as would the heat in her cheeks, bringing her to blush as she noticed her clothing scattered about the floor. And amongst the mess of her own, personal items- .. was his [i hair.] His wretched, disgusting, bright, [i untidy] hair. "You pervert! You thief! What are you doing with my- .. [i items?!]"]]
[center [size12 The sound of hard heeled boots against the floor resonated within the empty hall. The 'clomp-tap' of the shoes sounded at a slow, leisurely pace. A pace that seems somewhat out of place, especially with Kallum's current situation. Being scolded is not something that is uncommon to him, but being scolded about taking care of another's belongings is new to him. A new experience that he was not exactly fond of. This is at least the third or fourth time that he has been scolded before the semester properly started.
The first was about his 'cleaning' habits, or more specifically about the lack of said habits. What did they expect of him? Did it look like he did any sort of manual labor in his life? He felt that he at least tried, and by trying, he means prodding objects with his eyes and feet. It wasn't until someone was sent to teach him how to clean that things were hard.
He never paid close enough attention to even realize what dust was, and when he was told once to get on his knees to dust the bottom of a bookshelf, he was horrified. His clothes, or anything besides his feet, touching the floor was something he could not fathom. However, he was positively sure that the hag was messing with him, telling him to clean off invisible specks of dust and dirt. He was so frustrated that he nearly chipped the table, which set off the beginning of another 'how to clean' lecture. It was just too much, and waking up one day to find the formation of callouses on his hands, nearly spiraled him to start the ten stages of grief for his behalf. The second scolding was when he had a few choice of words to an elder who was trying to talk to him about the multiple piercings on his ear, suggesting that it was "unethical" or "unbecoming", but when he made a few suggestions about her whole life, it was "offensive" or "rude". And, he was okay with the scoldings as they pertained to him, but one over a random person's bag... Maybe people saw his hair as some sort of beacon for trouble to come his way.
With cognac-colored eyes and a stoic expression, Kallum carried the medium-sized trunk that the headmaster gave him after his scolding, away from his body with one hand. The trunk wasn't necessarily heavy, but it was the repetition of the choir to bring bags to the room and unpack them that irked him. He was scolded as if he neglected the bags purposely, but he couldn't help that he was only one person. He made a mental vow to his mother to do better after the second scolding, but all it took was one insignificant, tacky trunk to break it. His grip on the handle of the trunk tightened as a thought slowly started to manifest in his brain that the trunk was the source of his problems. His free hand automatically ran through his fiery hair to slick back the already smoothed side of his hair.
Upon entering the owner's dormitory, Kallum thought that he was calm, but it was when he slammed the trunk on the bed with so much force that it fell off onto the other side, he realized that he was still a little peeved. When the trunk hit the floor, it opened and all of its contents spilled onto the floor. With a sigh, his hand swooped through his hair again, careful to not touch his face, and he proceeded to the other side of the bed to clean up. He placed the trunk back on the bed, ignoring that it was becoming untidy in the process. However, he paused for a moment before stooping down onto one knee to survey the contents. It was...men's clothing. He could have sworn that his royal was a girl from the numerous dresses. Shuffling through the clothes, he found a piece of paper that was folded in half. Without any sense of privacy, Kallum read the note, and his expression went from shocked to mortified.
[i 'These... scraps are for me,'] he thought.
Kallum reread the note to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating from the fumes of the cleaning products, and it only confirmed that what he read was correct. It read that the clothing was for him and for it to be tailored before her arrival. Dropping the note, he shuffled through the clothing and what he saw had his face almost turning a lighter shade of his hair color. Kallum gripped the clothes tightly in his hands, his neck straining to the point where a vein in his neck was visible from him trying to hold back the words he wanted to say in his mother language. He was at the point where he was physically about to choke on his words.
He wasn't a child. He knew how to dress, and he was thoroughly insulted by the rags before him. Kallum shoved the clothes angrily back into the trunk, ignoring the instructions given on the paper. He stormed down the hall, wounding a piece of hair tightly around his finger. From unpacking her belongings, he knew that her taste was seriously lacking in all aspects just judging by the slight scuff on the toe of the heels, and from all the hat boxes that they were suffering from premature baldness. It must have been karma that he was paired up with someone so... lackluster.
"Deep breaths and fresh air," he recited as he quickly made his way down the stairway that leads to the front door. In the back of his mind, he knew that he probably looked crazy rushing downstairs while tugging on his hair. In the midst of his internal rampage, his sense of his surroundings became limited, and as a result, it causes him to trip over a bag place near the door. The worst of it is that he didn't stumble, but fell completely on his hands and knees. After the initial shock of falling, Kallum's head started to hurt from all the blood that was rushing to his head out of anger and now embarrassment. Looking behind him, he noticed that the contents of the bag had spilled not only out of the bag but on him also. To make things worse, the contents consisted of mostly a woman's undergarments. Moving slowly, he plucked up an article of clothing off his body and surveyed it, failing to register that in his hands were a pair of underwear.
[center [font "batang che" A little, carefree giggle would escape from his lips as Miska would descend the stairs. In a cheerful mood, he would skip every odd step or so, as though dancing or playing hopscotch by himself. His gloved fingers were grasped to a small vial, of which the label had been torn off. He would tuck it within the inner breast pocket of his clothing, hiding it, just as he reached the bottom of a staircase he would likely be frowned upon for using. Perhaps, it had been considered the principle staircase intended for the use of Royals only. Or, perhaps it was a side-stair; indicated only for the use of female servants, or servants of another class from himself. To his knowledge, he had yet to see a single crown upon someone's head or a single female for that matter - making the Academy appear to be more of a men's boarding school, than anything, thus far. With nobody around to scold him for the incorrect use of staircases, as he was certain it was mentioned somewhere in the various documents he'd received about Treleau Academy, he didn't see a reason as to why the rules couldn't bend just a little bit. After all, their schooling hadn't quite started yet and Miska had been confined to the castle for some time - far longer than others, for his antics had been cause for concern to the Headmaster. With the rules becoming more strict by the hour in preparation for the arrival of the Royals, Miska had to find [i some] way to entertain himself if he hadn't been permitted outside.]]
[center [font "batang che" Miska would smirk as he glanced about the room, though not truly taking note of anything or anyone in the area - simply staring through everything, with his head in the clouds. Wondering what would happen when it had been discovered what the contents of the vial had been and just where it had ended up; the Royals and Servants alike turning red with distaste as their first mouthfuls of the banquet would be a little too spicy for their liking. He had imagined placing a frog in one of the soups, as well; but there was such a thing as [i too] much sabotage.]]
[center [font "batang che" "Now, Miska needs..." he would ponder what he was next tasked with. His mind seemed to wander to the routine he'd found that morning, underneath his pillow. The thought of it had him stop in his tracks, filed with unease. He could feel himself beginning to sweat mildly, noticing his clothing becoming too constricting. Too rough, against his skin. What he had been focusing on in the room had become far away, as though there were miles of blank space between him and the room. He hadn't intentionally looked at the routine, before disposing of it.. but for some reason, now that he couldn't recall his duties, it had been brought to his mind. Forcefully so, as if the thought hadn't been his own. " .. to go outside," he would mutter nervously, like a small child. He thought he might like to be out where the air was fresh and the air didn't seem to come closer. But as he had began to walk away again, they seemed to move along with him. Staring at him. Judging him. Eyeing him. [u Following] him. [i They're simple walls,] he would think - and yet those simple walls would squeeze him. Like a frightened mouse, he would take off. Scampering to the nearest exit and paying no mind to who he toppled to the floor on his way. Tears wouldn't brim in his eyes; he couldn't remember the last time he cried- .. and yet he felt like he [i should] be, in this moment.]]
[center [font "batang che" When he had finally managed to free himself, Miska was left with a sense of emptiness. He had recalled beginning to run, but then [i nothing.] The distant sensation of throwing things blocking his path out of the way, but apart from that, he didn't remember. , he had begun to look around to attempt to place himself. It certainly had only been a few minutes.. right? He was currently outside, that much was certain. Carriages were pulling up to the entrance, empying only luggage before driving off. Only rarely would a sheepish individual step out, looking out of place. He noticed other servants loitering about the area, trying to make friends. He would reach for the voluminous, partially-braided ponytail that had fallen over his shoulder. Above all else, inspecting his own appearance and finding his hair to be mussed. Momentarily, wondering why it would be that way. Tugging on the large bow to straighten it, he pulled the hair to rest properly over his shoulder. Without much thought and a little shrug, as though forgetting what had just happened, he had approached a bag that had yet to be claimed. Without hesitation to avoid suspicion, he would pick it up. Or, attempt to. When the luggage was too heavy to co-operate, Miska had begun to drag it away. Contemplating if it should be left in the toilet, or if he should empty the contents and use it as decorations for the dormitory. "Ohh! Miska should replace the undergarments with the ladies' hats," he would laugh to himself. ]]
[center [font "batang che" Instead, after carting it inside, he would carelessly leave the bag behind the main door. It wasn't worth it to bring it upstairs and if left there, it would prevent people from using that door unless the bag had been moved. Anyone attempting to come in would simply be blocked! "And for good measure, Miska will.." a little smirk would settle upon his lips, as he reached into his inner breast pocket. Retrieving the small vial of extra spicy hot sauce - a special recipe made by his mother - he would slip it into one of the pockets. Kicking the bag for good measure, he would turn about on his heel. His mood restored, he would strut off cheerfully.]]
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