Re: i'm not loving you the way i wanted to

POSTED: Sat Sep 02, 2017 11:21 pm

trade this heavy cage of bones

The dark prince leaned against the wall as he listened to her, and the quirk of his lips did not go unnoticed - no, she felt somewhat pleased that she could make the more courteous of the royal sons amused, in her own right. Her own expression was less guarded as he continued to chip at her, pry her for answers to which she answered back in time with her own dance of a sort. This was fun - or at least as much fun she had since she had come here.

"Casca? Yes, I do approve of it, I think it's nice," she answered, raising a brow slightly as his inquiries continued. She could answer, but the game was becoming decidedly one-sided, and her chin raised slightly, lifting her chin as she hazarded a semi-step closer to the shadow prince, ruby eyes crinkling in amusement at the edges as she appraised him.

"That's an awful lot of questions you have, my lord." There was a brief pause for another of those chiming laughs, before she hummed out a note. "I was not given a birth name, per say, just various nicknames until I reached here. I particularly enjoyed primrose, but that is an artifact of my past now, so I am not too terribly attached. And I was taught many a thing about courtesy, politics, you know. But what of you? What are you taught, do you enjoy your name?"

Her words were jovial but goading, pressing him for answers in turn as he did her, and he attempted to coyly pull the dark prince's name from him in a more polite way than simple pointed confrontation, phrasing it in the parlance of their game.

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POSTED: Sat Sep 02, 2017 11:55 pm

You're in a place for fear, lips are for biting here
Let's make this moment worth the while

OOC: And now we're on the first name basis.

It was a strange feeling to say the least. It seemed as time passed on with them, the more relaxed Drago was becoming around the woman. As he was growing to know her more for who she was as opposed to what she was, there was not so much of a need to act. She was becoming 'familiar' in a sense.. the one thing Griffith complained about from the moment the pale woman came into contact with his life. Knowing his brother, he probably wouldn't see a need to partake in something like this. All that mattered was the woman was given to him to be his consort and that was the end of it. Clearly there should have been more to it given that they were already arguing so early on..

But then again it was always hard for one to get used to his golden brother as well as his mannerisms.

Considering Viper and Lucias had been the ones to spawn him, it was only natural that the two of them be able to name all of their children. When it came to Casca's situation, it was just puzzling. Easily understandable for someone who was only used to living one way of life. Even the slaves here in Mortimer had names before they got her. If there were any of her case, then they were slaves that the dark prince didn't know about. After all, there were still many secrets left to be discovered in his own kingdom.

The woman dared to move closer to him. Had the golden one been her, he probably would have been throwing a fit over this. Even so, there was nothing to worry about. Griffith was no where to be seen, and well it should stay that way. It's not like this was one of the rooms everyone came to during their day. If anythings, his eyes followed her movements, not daring to drift away from them, "I've said it before Casca, you interest me. I am curious to know about you. Besides, it's not like my brother is making much of an effort in that regard."

Typical of royalty. With all the responsibilities came of course the lessons and really some of the more boring necessities. Of course he was not ignorant to them, but they didn't strike him as much as his brother. He and Zuri could go on about the simple topic of Mortimer politics for hours if given the chance. How dull of an answer to get from her though. Was there nothing that interested her either outside of what she had been taught? Maybe that was something the two of the shared.

Again she turned it on him. He was expecting it. This couldn't just be a one way street though. Granted, he had come here to have her tell him what he wanted to know; however, if she was going to answer him, it seemed only fitting he should do the same. He offered the pale woman a shrug of his shoulders as his arms crossed in front of him, "What all is typical of royalty, so much the same as you on top of Mortimer's core culture. Father is particular when it comes to that."

His name. Yes, guess with Griffith being in his usual foul mood, she wouldn't have caught his name when he came in unannounced. He offered her a nod as the glow of his eyes almost seemed to get a bit brighter, "I am pleased with my name. Drago. Drago Trombetta."

POSTED: Sun Sep 03, 2017 11:29 pm

trade this heavy cage of bones

He had wanted to know more. She could catch that much from the low light of his blue eyes, and her amused smile was ceaseless as she cast her luring smile to him, the ruby of her eyes warm and inviting but dreadfully mischevious.

Her interests were hers alone.

"Oh, how dull," she had prodded back at him, as though mirroring the disappointment as they merely shared what they knew than what entertained their fancies. He gave her his name, and she gave an appreciative bob of her head. She echoed the word on her tongue, framed it with all of her keen flattery, perhaps even genuinely.

"So, Drago Trombetta, Shadow Prince of Mortimer, if nothing interests you, then what do you do for enjoyment?" she pried more forwardly, slinking closer before sidling alongside the man and glimpsing up at him as she slowly moved to join him against that wall, slowly leaning back into its solid stature. "Or is that too forward and salacious to ask of my lord? Is it perhaps something scandalous? Or is it simply pestering your golden brother?"

The sharpness of her smile had never ceased. "What exactly does the culture here entail? Are there appreciations of the arts, or is your kingdom dreadfully serious all the time?"

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POSTED: Mon Sep 04, 2017 12:59 am

You're in a place for fear, lips are for biting here
Let's make this moment worth the while

OOC: OOC stuff here.

It was amusing to say the least. Amusing that in all of this she had managed to keep a smile upon her face. He wondered.. was she doing this just to amuse him in return, or was there perhaps some interest she saw in him as well. The feelings were mutual between them for the most part. All this was were two strangers taking the time to talk, something that Griffith really should be doing instead of him. He was the one complaining about her after all. No doubt he was off chasing their cousin which gave her the time to slip away in the first place. A possessive man like the golden prince was likely one to want to keep track of all his things at all times of the day.

Blue orbs followed her as she neared closer, even taking up a position along the same wall he was leaning against. The gap they had created was slowly closing again. Then again, what did that matter? There was nothing to fear with this woman, and so long as they were remaining open with each other, anything she decided to use against him could just as easily be used to counter with something he had learned about her.

The dark prince's own smile seemed to grow slightly larger to the title Casca had given to him. The Shadow Prince of Mortimer. Now that had a nice ring to it.

A snort managed to escape from Drago's nose and mouth to her questions. Scandalous? What kinds of things were running through her mind? Shouldn't she have known it couldn't have been anything like that if she had been the first woman for him to even try and make some decent small talk with? Anyways, she was likely waiting to get an answer from him. Best not to keep her waiting, "Hard to enjoy things when father is being paranoid. He's very cautious of our neighbors and doesn't want anyone but a select few leaving Mortimer. It can be.. suffocating to say the least. I perfer it outside the kingdom's walls."

He paused briefly, returning to something she had suggested to him before, "You call it pestering, but I call it observing. Griffith has been trying to hard to become father's next heir to his throne. He gets everything he wants, and is spoiled rotten. Perhaps I just find amusement in reminding him of that little fact." So much for the gentleman she had been introduced to the first time he had shown his face hmm?

The dark prince should have expected she would be filled with questions. Guess the Overlord didn't really fill her in on how things worked in Mortimer. He seemed more content to just give his brother his consort and leave him to it. A shame really. Arms uncrossed enough for him to hold out each of his hands flat as he began to explain, "It's.. strange to say the least. There are two gods, 'The Red God' and 'The Night Dweller'. I won't really bore you with them. Mortimer itself is a pack built on blood. It's, as father says, keeps us young. Father claims that he is immortal and that his children are 'vampires that have not been transformed yet', whatever that means. But any ceremony or celebration usually has some kind of offering so that we may have blood."

POSTED: Mon Sep 04, 2017 10:54 pm

trade this heavy cage of bones

He seemed to have taken her words for something far more salacious than intended, but that was the fun in the ambiguous nature of language - she knew little of the hardy and secretive culture. Scandalous could've meant something as harmless as playing terrible music, being kindly to the servants - for all she knew, he could've genuinely enjoyed the sound of a brass trumpet or the bumbling toot of a tuba. But she supposed that's what these conversations were for.

He spoke of his father and he spoke of his brother, and perhaps there was something that attested to rivalry and jealousy between the two - Griffith was openly possessive and dismissive, a fickle man with fickle wants but many demands (mostly for the pale woman to keep her distance), but she was gathering much from this. Drago had what Griffith wanted. Drago seemed to have for want for the lavish gifts that Griffith was handed. As far as Casca was concerned, it was a typical sibling dynamic. Nonetheless, she laughed softly at the admission, before politely listening as he went on to answer her various volleyed questions.

He spoke of two gods, of blood and vampires and sacrifices, and the ruby eyed woman gave small nods. Something in the way he had phrased it presented him as a skeptic, and she couldn't help but bore into that.

"Two gods, yet you claim it's strange. This is the only life you've known, no? So what is so strange about it?" Harder hitting questions. Even harder answers. The woman's expression was coy. "What do you believe, Drago?"

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POSTED: Mon Sep 04, 2017 11:43 pm

You're in a place for fear, lips are for biting here
Let's make this moment worth the while

OOC: OOC stuff here.

Did Drago really want what his brother had? Maybe to some extent. He could understand why Viper would want to turn his attention to the son that was actually putting forth some effort for the throne, but he had never seen this as something to worry about. He was the oldest, so it was his by default. Maybe it was because of this effort that he believed it was a good idea to give his golden brother anything he could have ever wanted. It would have been like if he had bothered to pay attention to any of his pale cousin's antics when they were alone. She was always trying to prove she was better than them. Griffith fed her desire to continue, and now she was stuck with him. His head shifted subtly to the side, letting his mind wander on the idea. Eyes peered straight into the darkness. Maybe it would be nice to have something in his life.. well..

His head soon turned back, silently staring at the woman again. In a way he was getting that, even if it was behind his brother's back.

The culture was only strange for one reason. Guess Casca wouldn't have picked up on it right away with the way he had phrased it. For once her questions came again. What was there really to ask about her? He really had everything he needed to know about her considering the slate she had been molded into with her past. Everything would begin to change her now that she was here.

And then something she didn't really expect. What did he believe? Questioning anything the Overlord said or did was something that would wind up getting him in trouble. Gods above he knew Zuri had already tried that plenty of times, and the only reason she hadn't been punished was because Pythius had stepped in to stop his father.. before running off to find him to calm him down. Brothers and lovers. Well they really were made for each other cause whatever Pythius did always seemed to work. Not wanting to remain silent for too long, the dark prince gave a shrug of his shoulders. They were here alone, so what was the harm in speaking his mind away from his father's prying ears, "It is all I've known, but I've heard some things and learned. It's strange because all of this is my father's made up religion. Who even knows if there's any truth to it?"

He paused, emitting a soft sigh, "It just seems like all of this power has gone to his head, and everyone will just believe what he says. One thing I know for sure is he's not immortal. No one is. All of us are going to die one day, even if we just last longer than some. If he were immortal, then he wouldn't have to worry over giving up his throne."

He wondered if that would be enough to satisfy her. Likely, but she would just pry for more, and he would feel obliged to answer her. Why not just give her everything? He knew she could find something to ask about in the future, but at least he was aiding her with that. One hand lifted up, one of his claws trailing along the center of his eye-lid, "Some things with our family is not his own.. I'm sure when father believes I am ready I'll receive the scars above my eyes that mark me as a Trombetta male. I've also heard from Zuri that our family was raised on paganism, something she partakes in. Might look more into that some day."

POSTED: Sat Sep 16, 2017 9:02 pm

trade this heavy cage of bones

Drago was proving an interest. He thought, he acted, he spoke - all of his own accord, very much his own man, his own mind, than the shadow puppet of his father's will. She said nothing, merely cast her wily and all-knowing smile at the Prince. Casca had conceded - she had bothered the poor man enough for answers, and she merely smoothed her clothes, stood a little more upright against the wall, her cardinal eyes never straying, never venturing.

"You question more than just me. I like that," she responded softly. "It's no fun if you just take things at face value, after all."

He mentioned scarring, and the narrow brow of hers furrowed and knit, mirroring him and tracing a small line over her own eyes, before the mirth from her features faded, instead looking... Almost offended, the wraith of a woman looked at Drago's features more intensely.

"Surely you wouldn't let them do that to you? Scars can be such ugly things," Casca started, lifting a thin finger to retrace a line down the gold beneath Drago's eye, lips skewing in a disappointed line before her smile returned, albeit a little more forced this time. "Would be a shame to break up such nice gold bands."

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POSTED: Sat Sep 16, 2017 10:03 pm

You're in a place for fear, lips are for biting here
Let's make this moment worth the while

OOC: OOC stuff here.

It was strange. Drago could feel something.. different.. on the inside of him.. and all of this feeling filled him when he saw the smile appear on her face. Why was this happening to him? How was simply answering her questions cause him to feel this way? For all that he did know, emotions really didn't seem to be the thing he knew much about. He had always just assumed what his role would be in the future of Mortimer so there was nothing to worry about. He was the brains out of all his siblings, and that would probably account to his lack of emotional state. So why now of all times...?

One of the dark prince's eyebrows raised as she spoke up again. There were many in Mortimer who questioned things, but unlike his cousin, he knew to keep his mouth shut. This was a different situation. He was alone with this woman, a woman he was beginning to believe he could trust with the information he was sharing with her. He couldn't see her running away to his brother or father with his questioning. He saw nothing wrong with thinking differently as long as he stuck to most of Mortimer's traditional practices. It wasn't like he felt different about them one way or another. He just moved along with everyone else. Then again he really didn't have anyone to talk to about this kind of thing, so there was no reason to bring it up before now.

That smile didn't last for too long though. The pale woman soon shifted to the sound of the scars he would receive when he became recognized as a true Trombetta male. He paused, watching her move even closer, one hand moving up to trace along the bottoms of his eyes. The small smile across his muzzle returned as his own hand moved up to meet with her's, "Wrong spot Casca." He moved her finger to trace along his eyelid, "Here is where they will be. I imagine it won't ruin that much. I'm sure my hair will end up hiding them."

Drago's head shifted to the side, blue gaze resting on the continually fading light coming in through their small room. Lost in thought for a few minutes, he soon turned back to Casca, lowering her hand away from his face; however, didn't release. Pressing off the wall, he turned fully to face her, "Will you join me for a walk? Perhaps I can show you to the gardens."

POSTED: Sat Sep 16, 2017 11:13 pm

trade this heavy cage of bones

Digits came up to wrap her alabaster palms with guiding touch, delicately tracing her fingertips over his eyelid. It was... an odd thing to do - soft and vulnerable, and she could swear her heart hiccuped for a beat or two in her chest, expression minutely perplexed behind the smile that curved her lips. He justified those scars, claiming to just hide them behind his hair, to which she answered with a nigh dejected sounding sigh.

"Still a shame to mar such a nice face."

Powdery blue eyes fled her for a moment towards dwindling shafts of light, basking long, gold and pink lines along the floor, but his hold on her hand did not release. Casca didn't pull it away. No, oddly enough - this was a comfort, and hazarding, she pressed the broad of her palm against the subtle curve of the edges of his face, resting in the shallows there. Cardinal eyes studying his pensive features in the low light, their joined hands dropping but not pulling apart, and instead she opted to hold his own hand more securely in her own.

"I would be honored, Drago. Please, lead the way."

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