In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
Shattered Grimoires is the work of the mind(s) of Ardere & Shattered Grimoire's staff. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. Black Clover is owned by Yuki Tabata and published by Viz Shonen Jump. All images belong to their original owners. The theme you are currently viewing was made by Eliza of ElizaCodes exclusively for Shattered Grimoires.
[attr="class","lonelyscroll"] Rain. [break][break] Somewhere, someone once said, bad things always happened on rainy days. [break][break] Vaile sat underneath the awning of an open cafe. It started out as a light drizzle, the clouds above were colored a dark silver gray. He swirled around the sugar in his tea, watching the white crystals dissolve into the dark liquid. [break][break] He looked down at his table, where a simple book lied. Dark leather binding with golden trim, lettering on the cover spelled out a single name Nikola Sparkspur. [break][break] It was said that after the war with Diamond, the traveling writer retired. This was his last novel before that decision. It was signed, the man’s name written in ink on the inside cover along with a small message. [break][break]
To Vanilla:[break] Best wishes to a young writer!
[break] It wasn’t to him. This wasn’t his book. He didn’t even enjoy reading [break][break]
“It is such a lovely book though.”
[break] That was right. The owner of this book was dead. He still saw her ghost wherever he went. She was standing in the rain, but no drops dotted her skin. The water passed through her, her bare feet touched the water, just floating above the puddles. Her sundress was bright, not even a drop of rain to ruin it. Silver hair laid casually on her shoulders, fluttering in a breeze that didn’t exist. [break][break] She’d been a young writer. But her story had been left unfinished. [break][break] As the ran continued, she was washed away from his mind. He looked at the book again, wondering to himself if there was any use in reading it. It had been her favorite book, after all. [break][break] Didn’t he want to remember her? [break][break] The mist from the rain touched his cheeks, covering everything in that damp wetness. He looked out across the street, watching as some unfortunate souls were caught up in the downpour. Likely some would find shelter in at the cafe’s larger awning, perhaps others would simply be unlucky enough to get so drenched. [break][break] He was just there to observe after all.
Post by Verena Reinsberg on Oct 12, 2020 13:58:35 GMT -5
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MANA SKIN senior
HEALTH senior
MANA REGEN 05 IC // 10 OOC
MANA POOL 100/100
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[attr="class","verenaver2scroll"] The conversation with Suna had left craving the type of tea she couldn't find in the common realm. It wasn't exactly a slight against her, but just thinking on it made her remember how good it was. While in Hasphass, she'd done a number of odd jobs for people here and there, earning quite a bit of coin in the process. Enough to make the travel to the Noble Realm, despite her disdain for the Noble Realm. In particular, Silva was known for the housing the best tea in Clover (or at the very least, the best by her definition).[break][break]
However, the issue with entering the Royal Capital meant she was no longer able to reliably use her golems in the streets. Doing so took up too much space, and there was also the matter of scaring others. The Magic Knights wouldn't take kindly to that. Besides, it would be better for her if she didn't draw a scene. So, she did what she normally did in populated areas:[break][break]
Verena pulled out a book, using it to cover her face as she carefully navigated the walkways. However, she was still prone to needing to take breaks often. And that was why it was so awful when she noticed the first sign of rain. Immediately, she put up her book and let out a sigh. Just her luck. Well, no doubt the Silva wouldn't pay her any mind; the Reinsbergs were so far beneath them that they might have as well been commoners. She still carried herself like a noble, so she didn't think she'd have to worry about a confrontation, at least.[break][break]
Still, the rain began to pour down more and more, but there was a cafe just in sight. Her legs were burning, and every part of her was screaming at her to take a break. The issue was that the only place with shelter from the rain was the cafe; the buildings beside her were not businesses, but rather homes. At least, as far as she could tell. And there was no cover from the rain. At this rate, she was going to get sick. To think all this started just for a cup of tea.[break][break]
To an onlooker, her attempt at sprinting was no different than a light jog even by mage standards. Commoners had more going for them in terms of athletic ability, but none even gave her so much as a glance. There was no reason to acknowledge one as pathetic as she was, after all. She arrived at the cafe, right next to Vaile's table, panting in exhaustion.[break][break]
"Sorry, I'm sorry," the girl said between her wheezing breaths. It was truly incredibly undignified. "I'm very sorry for this sight..."
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COMBAT SUMMARY
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[attr="class","verenaver2scroll2"] TL;DR verena loses a fight to her age old nemesis: exercise. [break][break]
Post by Eritheia Silva on Oct 12, 2020 20:17:50 GMT -5
Gray smudges gathered in the sky before collectively releasing a sharp sigh. It was then that the first drop made its descent. It landed on the stony walkway like a gentle kiss on the cheek, only to be followed by thousands more. While they were no longer gentle kisses they carried with them the sweet aroma of fresh rain. Inconvenient to many while a blessing to others. The fierce tapping of each drop almost entirely drowned out the sound of Eritheia's spoon circling her teacup. The vaguely melodic tone continued as the spoon slid gently against the smooth surface of the porcelain cup, her eyes focused in the distance. She was noticeably elsewhere as she wandered the recesses of her mind. It was moments like these that ushered her mind backwards. Silent moments where she was left with nothing but her thoughts. For most that’d be a relished respite from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, especially for a Magic Knight. But for Eritheia it was an opportunity for her past to creep into the present.
Like shadows at dusk, her memories poured in and immediately reminded her of what she had been trying to escape. A voice called out to her from the past, her memory serving as a doorway. “YOU ARE A SILVA!” A man’s voice loudly stated. His anger crashed against her body as if it were happening in real time, causing her hand to stiffen. She could see him, her father, furiously glaring at her downturned expression. “You are to do as you are told! I am tired of this Eritheia! Your insistence on behaving with such petulance and disrespect. You WILL do as you are told, and I am telling you that you will join the Magic Knights” Eritheia could see herself in her mind’s eye. No matter how she resisted her family maintained a stranglehold on her life. It was her duty, they said, to do as she was told for that is what it means to be a Silva. That did nothing for her and her father’s rage was met with resentment and anger of her own.
They didn’t love her. How could they. She was nothing more than an object to be displayed and used. They would sentence their own daughter to a life that made her unhappy if it meant preserving their unsoiled record. They treat their children like pieces in a chess game, which explains why so many are insufferable due to unhappiness. It was her time to speak, but like every other memory she was left voiceless. All she could do was scowl. “So help me, Eritheia, if you disobey us one more time I will…”
CLANG!
Eritheia was immediately brought back by the sound of her spoon falling against her teacup. She lightly nibbled on her lower lip as her eyes wandered, hoping not to have drawn any attention to herself. She let out a sharp but heavy sigh as she somberly stared into her tea. Her attention was immediately gripped by Verena as she attempted to shield herself from the downpour while retreating into the cafe. She scanned Verena, her eyes moving from her feet to her head. She didn’t even have the sense to bring an umbrella? Eritheia thought to herself. She sighed and reached into a bag she had been carrying to retrieve a soft scarf. She leaned over and handed it to Verena. “Here. You’re making a mess seeing as you didn’t think to bring an umbrella.” She gave a brief smile to offset her seemingly patronizing observation. It was at that moment that she clumsily knocked over her cup of tea, making a mess at her own table. “That’s wonderful.” She said while releasing a puff of air that gently fluttered her hair. Her cup rolled off the table and shattered right beside Vaile’s table. “I’m…” Eritheia’s thought process abruptly stopped as she took in the man’s unmistakable good looks, immediately becoming flustered.
[attr="class","lonelyscroll"] There was something funny about it all, wasn’t it? [break][break] How he was always able to find silver hair. [break][break] It was likely because she was a Silva and this was their town. Didn’t take much for a man to put two and two together. Even for a proclaimed simpleton as he. [break][break] She was pretty, no doubt about it. Light eyes, pale skin, silver hair, an overall noble demeanor. Not something to be surprised to see, not here, not now, not surprising at all. She sat across from him, at another table, angled such that her wandering gaze did not find him. Her eyes weren’t looking at the present, however, not at the rain, nor at her tea. [break][break] They were looking to the past. He knew that look all too well. It was something he did all too often. Lost in her spell, he observed, some part of him wondering what she was reminiscing. Another part was well aware it wasn’t his place to wonder. [break][break] Oh, but then the spell was broken. [break][break] CLANG! [break][break] Of course, from he was it was nothing but a minuscule clink, but it was enough to take her out of the past. He turned his head, seeing a newcomer to the cafe, rather soaked to the bone as well. The dark-haired girl had come right to his table, muttering apologies to no one in particular… [break][break] "I'm very sorry for this sight..." [break][break] Vaile made no initial movements, the expression on his face rather neutral. Perhaps his gaze wandered, looking at the girl up and down. She had a rather plain appearance about her, nothing that seemed to stand out. It was hard to judge whether she belonged to a noble family or not, at least, she didn’t carry herself like a noble. Likely just caught up in the downpour, as suddenly as it had come. It wasn’t particularly his place to judge or feel sorry for her. [break][break]
But as it would be, he wouldn’t need to help her. Because the apparent Silva at hand had some gentleness within her, enough to provide the poor girl with a cover and with an offhand comment about not being prepared for inclement weather. [break][break] The silver-haired Blake simply sat back and observed, still having said nothing aloud, nor finding a reason to. Though he did move his book slightly from the edge of the table, so as not to get the pages wet from the dripping patron. [break][break] Of course, during the commotion, the young Silva heiress just so happened to knock her cup of tea right off the table. [break][break] The porcelain shattered, Vaile didn’t flinch. He turned to the young heiress, already expecting her words of apology. [break][break] “I’m…” [break][break] But she didn’t finish. How funny. Casually he wondered if there was something irregular about his face, though he was rather certain he cleaned himself up rather well that morning. It didn’t take him much a moment more to understand. She was a pretty girl. By all accounts, he was a handsome man. [break][break] “I am no one, in particular, to be accepting your apology, milady Silva.” Vaile returned a half-smile because that was likely the polite thing to do. In a motion unseen be either of the females at present, Vaile took the time to erase his mana presence. Better safe than sorry after all. [break][break] He looked a bit beyond, raising a gloved hand to wave down a nearby garçon. After all, someone would have to clean up the mess.
Post by Verena Reinsberg on Oct 14, 2020 0:45:55 GMT -5
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MANA SKIN senior
HEALTH senior
MANA REGEN 05 IC // 10 OOC
MANA POOL 100/100
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[attr="class","verenaver2scroll"] What a sight to behold. She hated standing out but the woman had drawn a scene. All for the sake of tea. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact it was raining. But without anywhere to take shelter, she had no choice. Her clothes were soaked as was her hair. It was nothing short of humiliating and if she was alone, she certainly would have burst into tears.[break][break]
Her stamina would never improve.[break][break]
She would never move faster than what she could right now, without the assistance of magic.[break][break]
It could have always been worse, but that wasn't exactly a comforting thought. Nor was the fact a Silva of all people was trying to comfort her. Yes, she knew right away. She had never met this woman, but that comment of neglecting to bring an umbrella struck her nerve. How could she have predicted it? The clouds were indeed murky, a lifeless color from the moment she stepped into the Noble Realm but it wasn't as if there was a forecast. Not to mention she lacked such an item to begin with…[break][break]
A scarf was offered to her and Verena squeamishly looked around before letting out a resigned sigh. "...I appreciate your generosity," she said with some hesitation.[break][break]
As she went to accept the scarf, she kept her crimson eyes on the Silva--not one that showed anger or distrust, but uncertainty. The Silva were not known for their charity work, after all, so it was only natural to be skeptical at such an offer. However, if nothing stopped her, Verena placed the scarf around her neck.[break][break]
Her voice, though quiet, still carried that dignified and noble sound to it. As if saying "don't look down on me", without actually wanting to come out right and say it.[break][break]
The woman's eyes wandered over to the man before her. Silver hair as well. He said nothing to her, instead keeping a relatively neutral expression about his person. It was neither condescending nor warm. It was vacant. Even when he offered her that half smile, something wasn't... right. It was a smile of nobility; it was fake. That was how all nobles went about their business--lying to everyone, even themselves.[break][break]
Was he a Silva, too? No, only one of them could be a Silva. A Silva who wasn't vocalizing their superiority was already rare enough--two? Impossible. Verena was not that naive to believe otherwise.
If she was to guess, the male wasn't a Silva--his eyes were crimson, like hers. Such a trait was implausible. Though the idea of him being a Blake did cross her mind, she immediately crossed it off. Not because it was impossible--but because she didn't want to consider meeting with a Blake. The shame she'd bring upon herself if that was the case... ugh, the sheer thought was enough to make her nausated at that display.[break][break]
"...I-It's not as though I came to the city unaware," she began to explain, huffing a bit, to both people. That regality in her voice was fragile now, her insecurity showing. She at least wanted to clear up something. "It's been a long travel, and only by the time I arrived at the capital did the sky begin to darken. I didn't bring enough yul to ensure an umbrella..."
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COMBAT SUMMARY
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[attr="class","verenaver2scroll2"] TL;DR Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. It was popularised in the 1960s with the release of Letraset sheets containing Lorem Ipsum passages, and more recently with desktop publishing software like Aldus PageMaker including versions of Lorem Ipsum. [break][break]
Post by Eritheia Silva on Oct 15, 2020 20:54:49 GMT -5
Eritheia stared at Vaile, her eyes scanning his face. A faint grin came across her lips as a dull chuckle sat at the base of her throat. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the circumstances. No matter where she went she'd be recognized as a Silva, and while that came with advantages it also came with the opposite. She figured this would immediately end all possibility for civility as most became hostile at the sight of a Silva. "Good eye." She said in an almost smug tone. "Then again, this silver hair and pale complexion is a bit of a giveaway." She sighed as an employee quickly picked up the pieces of her broken cup and another placed down a teacup and filled it with piping hot tea. "Move my table closer." She said to the employees as she gestured toward Vaile. "My name is Eritheia. Believe it or not, the totality of my identity isn't the Silva name." She said with a smile as she sat down near Vaile.
Taking a sip of her tea, Eritheia glanced over at Verena. "Short on Yul, huh?" Eritheia hid her true feelings as she sipped her tea, relegating any ostentatious or rude responses to her thoughts. This bumpkin may as well be a beggar. Did she seriously just admit to not having enough money to buy a measly umbrella? I suppose charity work never stops. She thought quite caustically. Eritheia reached into her coat pocket and pulled out some Yul. She leaned over and placed it in the middle of Vaile's table. "Allow me to help you avoid another situation where you're fleeing from the rain quite spastically." Eritheia smiled sweetly at Verena as a measure for disguising her subdued mockery. She looked raggedy enough. It would be unfair to sentence her to look even worse. She lowered her cup and smiled at them both. "And the two of you? You know who I am, so it is only courteous to tell me who you are, especially you considering my generosity." She added while winking at Verena.
Eritheia couldn't quite expel the Silva impulse to denigrate or insult. She was raised to view herself as superior and thereby more entitled to her opinions and treatment of others. It was only recently, since joining the Magic Knights, had she been confronted with her own hubris. She had discovered that even in moments like these, when she is face-to-face with complete strangers, her family's ideologies push their way to the forefront and disrupt any possible human connection.
[attr="class","lonelyscroll"] "...I appreciate your generosity," [break][break] Hm, nothing so interesting indeed. The brunette spoke plainly, if somewhat shyly. There was little confidence in her tone, even less in her demeanor as a whole. But certainly, it wasn’t his problem, it really wasn’t any of his concern at all. If anything, all it was was a minor inconvenience at best, a trivial thing to notice to begin with. [break][break] Not his problem. At least, not until someone else made it so. [break][break] "My name is Eritheia. Believe it or not, the totality of my identity isn't the Silva name." [break][break] The falling of a teacup was enough, supposedly. At least a cafe employee took upon their duty to clean up. In other news, the Royal Silva was keen on stating that her name wasn’t what defined her, which was a rather interesting point of view, coming from a royal herself. Vaile said nothing immediately in turn, only noting that for one reason or another, said heiress was suddenly so interested in him. His smile remained, but of course, there wasn’t any meaning behind it. He was a Silva too, technically speaking. But the Blakes didn’t really claim royalty, one fourth of his blood didn’t really mean much now did it? [break][break] He simply allowed himself to put up a facade of ‘relaxation.’ Shoulders dropped ever so slightly, he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. Arms were laid casually in his lap, dark gloved hands careful to turn just out of sight. The poor brunette told her story. And it just seemed so that she was just out of luck. Not much yul to spare at the moment either. [break][break] Vaile’s eyes wandered again, looking to dripping rain that wouldn’t let up anytime too soon. [break][break] "And the two of you? You know who I am, so it is only courteous to tell me who you are, especially you considering my generosity." [break][break] Perhaps she was too interested. [break][break]
“Valentine, milady and young miss.” He said, not lying, but not revealing the whole truth. He bowed his head slightly, for it was the polite thing to do. “I am, as of now, an unknown traveling author, who’s yet to publish anything meaningful.” He stated rather simply, shrugging his shoulders for full effect. [break][break] Yes, he could play along, for the moment anyway.
Post by Verena Reinsberg on Oct 19, 2020 6:42:44 GMT -5
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MANA SKIN senior
HEALTH senior
MANA REGEN 05 IC // 10 OOC
MANA POOL 100/100
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[attr="class","verenaver2scroll"] The Silva seemed to be paying especially close attention to Vaile, striking Verena as odd. The two seemed to be strangers, and she kept looking back and forth between the two, feeling akin to a third wheel, yet not quite being sure of why. They had no noticeable similarities beyond that of their silver hair.[break][break]
There were only so many families that she knew of that had white hair, but she could only remember the Silva. Wasn't there a family very important to her that also had that? ...Verena let out a soft sigh. It was probably her imagination. There was no use overthinking it. The Silva seemed to believe she wasn't relying on her family name, but the fact of the matter was she was doing so without even realizing it. From the moment of her birth, she was awarded with more advantages than she could ever realize. It wasn't as if Verena was upset about that though. It was something she herself had come to realize after five years on the road like this.[break][break]
"...i-it couldn't be helped," Verena awkwardly protested, shifting her eyes from the two to the ground. "U-Up until I arrived here in Silva, it didn't start raining, you know..."[break][break]
Of the Noble families of Clover, it was the Silva who looked down on the Reinsbergs the most, so of course Verena couldn't help but immediately get flustered. No, that wasn't quite the right word. What the heir was feeling right now was frustration intertwined with embarrassment. She'd sooner keel over and die than admit to being a Reinsberg under these circumstances. Runaway or not, she carried the name as the daughter of the previous head. This luck of hers was just awful...[break][break]
"You shouldn't smile if it's to hide insincerity. It's in bad taste," Verena said, recognizing the all too common trademark smile that she saw at every corner of her childhood. That same condescending smile that they wore every time they saw a Reinsberg, when they saw a commoner. That was how it came off, at least.[break][break]
There was a momentary lapse between her brain and mouth, however, as she quickly covered up her mouth.[break][break]
"I just told a Silva off. In Silva?! Oh no, oh no, oh no... why did I do that? Argh, this is why I hate coming here. I just wanted teaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." she screamed inside her head, internally crying.[break][break]
And then to make it worse, the woman asked for her name. No, no no. No. Absolutely not. No. Verena absolutely could not give her her name. Not under these circumstances. That sounded nothing short of dreadful. She could already imagine the reaction of these two. How horrible this was. The worst part was Verena was absolutely awful at lying. It wasn't a skill set she ever had to learn, as Renfir hadn't taught her how to survive the machinations that made up the Noble Realm, leaving her woefully underprepared in such a moment.[break][break]
She paid no mind to the teacup or the employee who went to clean it up, though Verena move a bit out of the way to allow for the employee to more efficiently do her job. All the while she was visibly panicking when asked for her name. Take a look at the definition of poker face, and Verena was certainly far from it. Ah, what was she to do? What could she do?[break][break]
Thankfully, Vaile seemed to speak up first. Ah, that's it! She didn't have to give out her first name. And as raggedy and worn as she was, surely they wouldn't recognize her as a Reinsberg. Yes, yes! This was a good idea! Definitely![break][break]
...but it was better to be safe than sorry.[break][break]
'Valentine', as it were, introduced himself as a traveling writer without a notable book to his name. Wait. A writer? Verena's eyes lit up with joy at this. Argh, but she still had to introduce herself. Was it okay to be honest? No, it wasn't. Not now. But she was awful at lying. It looked as though the poor girl was about to faint from overthinking.[break][break]
"Vérehn," Verena said, making up a name on the spot.[break][break]
Flawless.
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"What type of books do you write?" she asked once she calmed down. "History? Magic Theory? Fiction? I've never had the chance to meet an author before. I'm aspiring to write a book one day, too, once I learn more elemental types of golems!"
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COMBAT SUMMARY
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[attr="class","verenaver2scroll2"] TL;DR verena declined the umbrella. it's not there, but I'm also too too tired to write it in. so use your imaginations for my sake. espresso depresso is screaming internally with a poker face that you just know she's not honest but she's certain it's fool proof. pls be gentle on the espresso depresso in these trying times. [break][break]
Post by Eritheia Silva on Oct 24, 2020 17:08:19 GMT -5
Valentine. Quite the mysterious fellow. She thought while inspecting his face with a playful gaze. There was something amusing about his reluctance to speak beyond a few utterances. It had her intrigued, but whether such intrigue was warranted remained unclear. He seemed like many men. The type of man who puts forth great effort to cultivate an air of mystery. Men like him, if he is indeed the type, think by appearing mysterious they'll be deemed more attractive. After all, what person wouldn't want to put concerted effort into finding out even the most basic details about a person. That'd be too simple. It is much more relaxing to make it more complicated. Eritheia let out a dull, muffled chuckle as she leaned back in her chair. She smiled sweetly at Vaile, but did so at his expense. While attractive, she thought his brevity was likely a result of a deficit. All looks and no substance, eh? She wondered to herself with unmistakable bite.
As her lips touched the edge of her cup, the tea spilling into her mouth, she casually glanced over at Verena. Oh, she's feisty. Dull, but feisty. As feisty as a musty clump of fabric and hair can get. She thought amusingly. She let out a bright, but tame laugh. "That's funny." She remarked while setting her cup on its saucer. She appeared to have more to say but gestured for a server. "Could you bring me my usual." He nodded and quickly rushed to the kitchen to retrieve some orange cranberry scones. It was an insult in itself that she couldn't be bothered to address Verena directly. She was more than fine keeping her waiting. She delicately picked up some silver tongs and placed a cube of sugar in her tea and stirred it lightly before taking another sip. She appeared pleased by the added sweetness and once again returned her attention to Verena. "I'd be interested to know what you think you know of either good or bad etiquette. As it stands, playful remarks or gestures aren't taboo but accusing a complete stranger, and royalty at that, of insincerity is truly in bad taste. Did I use foul language? Did I disparage your person with crude remarks? Did I make a fuss and ask that you be removed from this establishment for disrupting a perfectly tranquil respite?" Eritheia paused, glanced to the left, and placed her finger on the corner of her mouth. Her exaggerated expression was intended to show them she was re-examining their exchange. "No, I don't believe I did." She looked at Verena with a 'better luck next time' smile before lifting her teacup toward her mouth. "Water under the bridge. I forgive you, Loraine." She said sweetly while placing emphasis on her name, purposely having said it incorrectly.
Eritheia looked at Vaile as she sipped her tea, eagerly awaiting details on his works. "I'm also quite interested to know more about you. I can't say I've ever met a traveling author, and one who doesn't seem to have a last name. Do you write under a pseudonym to protect your privacy?" She asked while mildly concealing her sharp tone. "As a matter of fact, you two have that in common. Neither of you shared your full name with me. Why so secretive, especially now that we're becoming acquainted over tea and, ah, yes, scones." A server interrupted and placed a large plate of warm, freshly baked scones on the table. "You know what? Set them on his table. He's just about to regale us with what I can only expect are vibrant stories of his travels with vivid characters that no doubt inspired his unknown tales." She watched as the server placed them on Vaile's table before sitting up and placing her teacup and saucer on Vaile's table. She waited for the server to pull out her chair before sitting down and inched closer to the table. "Go on. Loraine and I are eager to hear more about your life as a traveling author."
WC: 673 TWC: 1,759
Last Edit: Oct 24, 2020 17:10:14 GMT -5 by Eritheia Silva
[attr="class","lonelyscroll"] What an odd pair the two of the girls were. [break][break] Well, perhaps quickly all three of them were becoming an odd trio. If the Silva had anything to say about it at least. Perhaps Vaile was getting in over his head, what kind of fate was truly messing around with him that rainy afternoon? [break][break] Though, the brunette was still an oddity. It was as if she couldn’t decide it had no self-confidence, or blatantly had a little too much in stride. [break][break] "You shouldn't smile if it's to hide insincerity. It's in bad taste," [break][break] Comments said without much thought behind them. It made the man raise an eyebrow, looking to the Silva and seeing how she would respond. Perhaps the statement had been directed as much towards her as him, however, his facsimile was hardly something meant to hide insincerity. [break][break] Insincerity wasn’t the word he would have used. A neutral expression was simply that, neutral. As such, was a matching smile. [break][break] The tirade of words that came from the Silva was, entertaining, to say the least. Even if she stated that her royal name wasn’t her total identity, her royal pride was certainly showing. Vaile did genuinely find it amusing, and so, the half-grin that found its way onto his face was remarkably genuine for once. [break][break] As the conversation shifted once more towards him, he gave his answer without much fanfare to discuss about it. Though, he supposed that such an apparent career led itself to questions. Normally, he liked it better when people didn’t question him. He wasn’t annoyed, naturally, young people, were curious. And since neither of them apparently had no other business to attend to… [break][break] He raised his head when ‘Vérehn’ or ‘Loraine’ seemed so excited about meeting an apparent ‘author.’ The expression was slight, the flash of melancholy even more subtle. The lie didn’t bother him no. Her enthusiasm did. It wasn’t unexpected that there would be bookies across the Kingdom who enjoyed reading, books, and the like. But it was all too familiar. [break][break] The book that lay on his table was moved over slightly now. The memento didn’t belong to him. The dream career of a writer didn’t belong to him. He’d stolen too many things from a long dead… [break][break] “He's just about to regale us with what I can only expect are vibrant stories of his travels with vivid characters that no doubt inspired his unknown tales." [break][break] He sounded out a short sigh that mixed with a little chuckle. “Ah, milady Silva, I might just write a tale about a beautiful heiress who hides her sincerity with a cutting tongue.” His jest was that, a jest and perhaps there was no other meaning behind it. [break][break] Turning then to the brunette, he hesitated a moment, perhaps leaving the pair of girls in suspense. It was as if he was about to reveal something embarrassing, and considering the situation, it might very well have been. “I write romances. Or at least I try to.” [break][break] “And Lady Silva, I mean no offense with my own name. “ To be as gentle and as genuine as he could, this was at the moment, the ‘Valentine’ that Vaile wanted to portray. “Valentine was my mother’s family name. I wish for her name to be known so that is the name I use as an author and as a traveler.” [break][break] He paused again, wondering if his words were carrying any weight to the two girls. “She passed long ago due to illness. She was a writer, but she was never published. “ The easy inference was there, he was an ‘author’ now because of his mother. The story was truthful, empathic in some sense. [break][break] Because once again, it was that someone else had played it out. A story that he had now stolen for his own.
Post by Verena Reinsberg on Oct 28, 2020 2:06:42 GMT -5
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[attr="class","verenaver2scroll"] Verena had immediately sunk back into her metaphorical shell the moment she realized she had spoken back to a Silva. She couldn't help herself though. She was already in a sour mood because of the rain. The woman at first seemed as though she didn't care at all, unbothered by it. Even if that type of attitude was in of itself infuriating, Verena was too busy internally panicking over the fact she had just disrespected a Silva. There were six Noble Families that she knew better than to do that to. The Silva and the Blakes were two of such families...[break][break]
For one who claimed not to taunt their family name, Eritheia certainly had no problem taunting her status. She knew all too well that she had the power to do as she pleased. She seemed to misinterpret her own family lineage. Or perhaps she might have actually just thought it likely that within her lifetime she could see to the crown. Even still, to refer to herself as royalty was laughable. She had status, but she was just barely connected to the Crown. Only a fraction of royalty.[break][break]
Of course, Verena couldn't say that to her face. The Reinsberg just stared at the ground while the Silva continued to speak. With every word, a knife pierced her chest. This humiliation was unbearable. She wanted nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and cry. At least with how soaked she was, it would be impossible to notice the difference. All this for a cup of tea. All this trouble, all this hell, for a mere cup of tea. Was it even worth it at this point?[break][break]
Admittedly "Vérehn" didn't even know anymore.[break][break]
Eritheia seemed to take offense that neither of the two shared their family names. It wasn't as if Verena could actually afford to make it known that she was a Reinsberg. Not with the display she had just put on. She couldn't afford to risk that. "...I-It's not a matter of being secretive if it doesn't matter comparatively, s-speaking for myself of course..."[break][break]
The last thing she wanted to do was insult an author. Authors were to be respected by her own standards. She took a seat at the table only now, though she didn't help herself to anything. After all, why would she? They were intended for Vaile. She wasn't even (visibly) upset that Eritheia had mispronounced her name, and quite deliberately. It wasn't as if she gave her her actual name to begin with.[break][break]
Vaile's little joke did not go unnoticed by the young woman. Verena was very tempted to laugh, but quickly put a hand over her mouth. She had no desire to upset the Silva. She already felt on edge as it was. Though Verena wholeheartedly believed she didn't act out of line, as she truly believed that there condescending nature in which the silver-haired woman spoke outweighed any sort of generosity handed out. It was like being given a lifeline, then ridiculed for needing it to begin with. It was hard to accept any sort of generosity to begin with.[break][break]
Then, 'Valentine' as it was mentioned what it was he wrote. At first, Verena maintained that childlike wonder. But then, her cheeks immediately flushed red as she remembered that book. The book she had finished reading before coming all this way to Silva. She wouldn't have made the connection until the traveling author specifically mentioned writing romance.[break][break]
Still, the last bit of his comment seemed a bit uncertain... and he also mentioned he viewed himself as a failed author. That wouldn't stand. Could she willingly admit to reading that book? In public no less? What if the Silva had read something like that-yeah, no. A proud Silva wouldn't be caught dead reading something like that. It wasn't that it was bad; Verena thoroughly enjoyed it. But the woman in question would very much be viewed as a commoner in their eyes, even if such a system didn't quite exist. Not to mention, it couldn't be popular. Not in this society. It contained various taboos that likely led to it not being as popular as it should be.[break][break]
"...erm... Valentine, sir?" Verena began to say shifting awkwardly in her seat. Ugh, this was so awkward! So embarrassing! There was nothing to be embarrassed about, yet she was. This was why she dominantly read non-fiction and textbooks; there was only logic and facts to improve oneself with. In the world of fiction, something like this...[break][break]
"...Veronica might just be my favorite character out of all the books I've read. She sought love and was only met with heartache... Everything about her relationships, even when she realized that the love was just a fabrication... she clung to that in hopes that something might change. And eventually, it made her cold. I don't think any author really could do justice to that sort of thinking... it was entirely believable... Of course, I'm leaving out some information for spoilers sake."[break][break]
The only thing worse than a Silva was someone who spoiled things, even in the case of books that they'd never read.[break][break]
"...I really enjoyed the book, I mean. I've not been able to find a book where I could connect with such a character. So... thank you for writing such an amazing book. And amazing characters."[break][break]
The entire time Verena spoke, she was embarrassed. Vaile would realize why if he recalled the book in question. But at the same time, there was genuine sincerity in her words.
Post by Eritheia Silva on Nov 15, 2020 21:31:29 GMT -5
Eritheia looked over at Valentine and smiled impishly. "That premise sounds fascinating! I'd read that book. Just think, this could result in your big break where you go from out-of-work and unknown to having the same level of clout as those over-sized books people use as decorative centerpieces." A relaxed expression came across her face as she sipped her tea. Her commentary was blistering while she maintained a surprisingly honeyed tone. She knew her way around the biting comment and insult. It was practically born of her blood. In fact, she was fond of light verbal sparring. She believed it kept people sharp and on their toes.
It was safe to say it kept her sharp but more so entertained. Life was prone to bouts of dullness and that meant a responsibility to keep it infused with some level of excitement. While this conversation was successfully chasing away her unwanted thoughts, it would have been preferable if her company were more noteworthy. Her gaze settled on Verena as she seemingly scrambled for more reasons to rudely avoid divulging her full name. She didn't necessarily speak in such a way that might suggest a lowly upbringing. In fact, she was quite well-spoken. Sure she seemed to fumble over her words like a clumsy commoner but something felt off.
Honestly, what did it matter? Eritheia didn't much care who she was and wasn't the least bit interested in probing for details. Eritheia simply nodded and dismissively gestured to Verena as she attempted to reason with her as to why she wouldn't share her full name. "Yes, yes. Whatever you say, Lorraine." Eritheia replied while biting into a scone without giving it a second thought. The sweetness of the pastry was nearly spoiled as she listened to Verena sheepishly praise Valentine. "Clearly you haven't read many books, no-last-name Lorraine."
She glanced over at Valentine. "So, this adoring lamb has read your seminal piece. How does it compare to some of the greatest authors? Follett? Abernathy? Greadhouse? Einar? Follett is considered a prodigy novelist and is responsible for some of the most beloved characters whose vividness and substance are both enthralling and inspiring." Eritheia reached out and tapped the table tenderly as if to comfort Verena. "It's okay if you haven't heard of them. They're just some of the Kingdom's most famous and beloved authors. You'll get to them, I'm sure of it. But what about you?" She asked abruptly of Valentine. "Certainly you've read Abernathy and Greadhouse."
He lifted his head at her words. And much to his surprise, the girl was freely admitting…
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...that she’d read his book.
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Was it that much of a surprise? A poorly critiqued novel that barely printed a hundred copies? That of all the people in the Kingdom he would happen to run into, he would run into someone who wrote his folly of a piece of writing. Was it his own fault for avoiding something that he had obviously done? How could he have claimed to be a writer, if he had no books to his name?
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Yet something he’d written, it was far more… personal than he’d ever intended. Words to paper, obviously not meant for others to interpret as he, and yet he was the one who had put them done, for all the world to see. But that was the hope of a writer.
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Vaile Valentine was not a writer.
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She spoke of the novel’s heroine, of love and the idea that she so clung to. It was a selfish interpretation, an excuse, and a rather sorry one at that. Vaile only pretended he knew what love was, but it was that deceit that led them here. He couldn’t deny that it was something he’d written down, perhaps because he was reaching for something… he would never grasp.
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So it was better to pretend than it was to accept.
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His shoulders dropped, his hands fell to his lap. This girl, with her bookish demeanor and even further softer presence, she was too much. She was too much for him. In a moment, he didn’t see her, that Vérehn, but instead tired eyes saw another illusion. A girl of silver hair, laid gently on her shoulders, a girl with a spotless complexion, her skin the color of the whitest snow. Her eyes sparkled like sapphire gems, lighting up at the thought of discussing her favored authors most celebrated novel.
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He saw a ghost, someone who no longer existed in this world.
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And that was too much for him.
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Rain and mist did well to hide watered eyes, but Vaile did not shed tears. He had not since he’d knew of her loss. The emptiness that remained did only that, leave his hollowed self with nothing to grasp anymore. And so instead, a shameless coward that he was threw the blame at something else. Someone else.
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“Thank you.” He said, quietly accepting her compliments. A bitter smile graced his lips. “It’s a surprise for certain, to hear anyone having read my book. And even more so to hear such praise from it.” He paused again, turned his head down to the novel that remained on his table. “Many would say that the so few copies that did circulate just means I had failed, and perhaps I thought so too.”
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“But perhaps success isn’t measured by how many books I sold, but instead by the number of souls I touched with my story.”
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A story, that by itself, was something so empty and meaningless.
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As the conversation continued, the lady Silva certainly loved her words and throwing them around. It was something that Vaile could see as a way to turn the conversation on herself, and he casually accepted that he preferred it as well. “All rather well-read choices, Lady Silva.” Valentine nodded to her. “Though, my choices often align with the world of Singer and Sparkspur, even if the latter has often been considered more overrated romances for the masses.”
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And it just so happened to be the book that remained on his table.
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“A story by itself is an exploration of what the author had to offer, sometimes I think people think too hard about what the meaning is supposed to be, and I’m supposed to consider myself a writer.” Vaile shrugged, his tone turning a bit sarcastic, nonetheless, he found it fun to poke fun at the idea that everything was supposed to be meaningful.
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“Maybe that’s why I don’t have anything notable to my name…”
Post by Verena Reinsberg on Nov 30, 2020 21:25:44 GMT -5
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MANA POOL 100/100
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Verena seemed annoyed again with Eritheia, though it was less in her expression and more in her mannerisms. The Reinsberg had no intention of making further scenes, and she knew her place in the hierarchy that was the Noble Realm. As much as it bothered her that there were Nobles who could run their mouth when and where they pleased, she lacked both the status and the influence to make any real change to achieve anything on that front. And thus, the girl did what she knew best.[break][break]
Like a tortoise reverting into its shell for safety, so too did Verena let her emotions revert. She would think them, but she was quite practiced in hiding her true emotions when she wanted to, something that she learned as an essential skill growing up in the family. The Reinsbergs were not great, and thus they couldn't compete with the likes of any major family, no matter what they were considered.[break][break]
Eritheia then went on to assume Verena hadn't read many books. That was it. Verena couldn't help it. She just let out a sly giggle, covering her mouth as the Silva listed some of the most reputable authors in all of Clover. And of course, Follet was mentioned.[break][break]
Whether or not it was bait didn't matter. Verena would gladly bite.[break][break]
"...Follet is a successful author, and he's quite talented. Of that, there can be no doubt. 'Prayer', 'A Tale of Two Kingdoms', and 'Champagne Hourglass' are among some of my personal favorite works." These books ranged from his earlier books to works that he had written at the peak of his success. They were largely successful and had a good-sized following. "His later works are every bit as great as these as well. However, you can tell in those later works that he lost a bit of his creative spark. In 'Cathedral', he takes many story beats from 'Champagne Hourglass', as well as the main cast being very similar to that of those in 'Divide'. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, as these are all amazing works. The issue at play is that you can tell he's losing heart."[break][break]
"Einar is fine--a lot of their work suffers from repetition, and thus I'm not big on their work. By reading one of their books, you can more or less predict how three more will go. Greadhouse is a favorite of mine, and Abernathy is as well. They maintain sophistication in their works, and their diligence in research to ensure the believability in what they write is to be admired and respected."[break][break]
"The difference between them and this book is that... you can tell there was something that the author was trying to tell. It wasn't written for the sake of writing. It was almost a..."[break][break]
Verena glanced back at 'Valentine', realizing in the thick of the moment just how she felt that book as written, before clearing her throat. It wasn't her place to bring up that at times, desperation and despair were so painfully interwoven into the words that she could practically see a broken man as she read them.[break][break]
...Not that that seemed to be the case with Valentine. He seemed mentally safe with absolutely no baggage whatsoever. At least, that's what she thought. But perhaps because she was a bit broken herself, with elements of her past that she wouldn't want to bring up that she recognized that smile. That expression. And thus, it was for that reason she held her tongue, and instead shifted the topic.[break][break]
"Though I admit, I mostly read textbooks, my taste in literature is everywhere. There's nothing like a good book to feel secure, no matter the place. I just have a penchant for learning about other types of magic."[break][break]
Regardless of her topic change, Valentine still thanked her. Internally, she felt awkward and unsure of how to respond. So she just offered Vaile a reassuring smile but didn't comment. She hadn't read Singer, though she had heard of her. It wasn't that she didn't want to; she just never happened to find any of her books in libraries. Sparks was one she read once or twice, but at that time she wasn't interested in his work. She wondered if that had since changed.
The conversation with Suna had left craving the type of tea she couldn't find in the common realm. It wasn't exactly a slight against her, but just thinking on it made her remember how good it was. While in Hasphass, she'd done a number of odd jobs for people here and there, earning quite a bit of coin in the process. Enough to make the travel to the Noble Realm, despite her disdain for the Noble Realm. In particular, Silva was known for the housing the best tea in Clover (or at the very least, the best by her definition).[break][break]
