Necessitas is the mother of frustration

[gladtoseeyouidiots]

Her parents are actually going through with this. Carolina has negotiated and argued for countless hours now, only to find out that they signed the treaty behind her back. Never mind that she will one day rule the country of Necessitas in her mother's place. She's being married off like chattel to a man who cares more about his profligate affairs with various lovers than about his own kingdom.

Some stories call him a demon. Carolina is already convinced he's a monster.

She won't weep. Not in front of the court. But when she sweeps into the privacy of her own room, angry tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "This is wrong," she whispers.

Comments

[maine_makes_growly_noises]

As her his lady's request, Maine goes the following morning to greet the visiting delegation. There do seem to be a handful of fighters among them. Carolina wants to know who they are and what they're capable of. Technically it's so that they can compete in the local festivals, but Maine won't mind having that knowledge for himself.

Louisiana comes with him, and they fall into step on their way into the training grounds. Someone--probably one of the servants--has already directed the visitors to a private corner of the courtyard.

Now, to see if these people are any good.

[protective_logic]

Oh Lor and Shikan, why this vanguard to test his lovers? Delta should not have come. He should have stayed back in that room to keep an eye on that maid girl Daphne. But no, he came to be supportive, and now the large man is approaching his men.

"Big," he mumbles under his breath again.

[maine_makes_growly_noises]

Maine doesn't hear him. He does approach, though: in the apparent absence of the prince, he's probably better off leaving these documents with the most academic-looking of the lot.

"For your prince," he says.

[protective_logic]

"Y-yes," Delta stammers. Oh dear the mm is looking at him and talking to him. He reaches out and offers his hands for the papers. When they are handed over he tucks them into the maples sleeves of his robe. Which is too hot for this outfit. But the stuff out here is so revealing.

[maine_makes_growly_noises]

"Are you the mage?" He has no idea who is who in this pack--York barely introduced them--and if he wants to assess them for the competitions, he needs to know who's interested in what.

[protective_logic]

"Yes, and no," Delta notes nervously. "You want Sigma. The one whose shirt is open. He is here to learn at the Mage college."

Why are they talking?

[maine_makes_growly_noises]

"You're a mage." That's good to know, even if he isn't the one who fended off the assassin. "Did you want to compete?"

That's what he's here to find out. (Among other things.)

[protective_logic]

"My magic isn't... competitive in nature," Delta answers, his words becoming a soft mumble. What in the world is going on? HE feels a bit like a younger man again, like he was before York helped him find confidence in some ways.

Lor don't you dare turn back time to that Delta.

"I'm merely his steward. I do not believe there would be something in which I could compete."

[maine_makes_growly_noises]

"Magic isn't required," he says. There are other things this mage could do, if he so desired. "You aren't interested?"

[protective_logic]

"I am a servant. I will entertain none to see perform. The fire mage is a student at the mage college now. IT will be expected of him. The Prince's friend and companion, the one doing the knife work, he will do it for pride. The head of the guard to prove his competence at protecting the Prince. And the Prince himself if he can get away with it for the joy of competition. But who desires to see a scholar doing anything but failing?"

Well, that's the most he's managed to say to the man. Too bad it's only a thought running wild in his head.

[maine_makes_growly_noises]

"Our scholars don't fail," Maine says, suddenly defensive of his surrogate home. "They compete in puzzles and tests of logic. As could you."

[notyourrookie]

The training grounds are busy and that sets Wash on edge. There's no way of training without being in full view of anyone who wants to observe. He's used to being watched, but it means he falls back into old habits, back when he'd still been trained in groups, rather than with Florida and Connie.

He throws himself into training, but holds back, just enough that he looks good, but not too good. It was always valuable to hide how good you were, to save it for challenges and tests. Here will be no exception. it's especially true when he spots the Lady Carolina's guard enter the area.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Louisiana takes up a spot on the edges of the training grounds that York's men have staked out as their own. Her interest being caught by the man that moves with the telltale signs of experience.

Interesting. She had only heard that one was a guardsman of the prince and that had been a different man. The height was all off and so was the way he held himself. Who exactly was this one out of the lot?

Louisiana settles to watch better at a fence that separates the areas, leaning on crossed arms.

[notyourrookie]

It's not too difficult to fall back into the rhythm he'd used when he was training. It's just a matter of fumbling the knife when he slashes, making sure he comes in at slightly the wrong angle, makes his footwork just a little clumsy. It's not enough to make him look incompetent. It's easy to tell that he's skilled. He just doesn't want people to realise exactly how skilled.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

She rests her chin on a propped arm as she continued to study his moves, dissecting them as he moves about against his opponent. He was good. Not the end all be all of blade work but certainly worthy of being given permission to enter into any contests he desires.

"If you're trying to be uninteresting," she muses, "there are far better ways to do so. Flaunting usually only makes attention worse."

[notyourrookie]

Wash pauses when he hears the woman speak, and he steps back from his match to turn to her. He eyes her curiously, although she's out him on edge in any case. He just doesn't want to look like a paranoid former assassin.

He shrugs and grabs for the water canteen at the edge of the ring. "I'm not flaunting."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Yes you are. You're a slippery snake when it comes to moving around with your blade." She glances away from him to watch the other trainees with a mild bored expression. "They're trying and you don't have to. It shows."

"Better question would be if you're not a personal guard to Prince York then what purpose do you have? Too much skill to simply be a charmer on someone's arm. That or merely played with in bed."

[notyourrookie]

He follows her gaze over to the other people training, frowning as he observes them. They aren't as good as he is. That's easy to tell. But he hadn't thought that he was making it that obvious. Her next question though is far more worrying. And unsettling. He doesn't flinch at her comment, but it stings anyway. Too close to what Florida had said.

"A Prince should always have more than one guard."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

She watches for a couple of moments to let the words sink in for Washington before regarding him once more. There doesn't seem much alarm in his posture but she would continue to dig nonetheless. These foreign men had far too much hiding and plenty of rumors so it was best for the guard to uncover what was true.

"He only has one personal guard. I should know. Besides you don't carry yourself like one. So care to answer my question?"

[notyourrookie]

Why wasn't that acceptable. Prince should have more than one guard. Was it so unbelievable that York might have one who was less obvious than North?

"I'm just a close friend of York's. His companion."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Well isn't that considerably disappointing? Still she doesn't fully believe in that that's all he is but no matter.

"So you are an arm charm."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

She doesn't what use this would be other than wasting their time watching these men and nitpicking them for faults. Even then not all of them would be fighting which becomes ever more clear as they draw closer to the training grounds. What a shame. She'll have to dissect the nonparticipating ones in a different fashion.

There was that unknown mage after all. Something about fire so what if she used her own quirk to her advantage? At least know who to avoid. Fire and her didn't get along in an occasion or two.

For now she huffs in annoyance and remains at her brother's side, keeping pace habitually. "What good does this serve? Why not have them thrown in blind? There would be more entertainment that way."

[ambitious_muse]

"Qualifiers," Maine says. Most of the contestants earned their right to compete in regional games. Carolina doesn't want to risk her reputation by shoving foreigners into their respected tradition. "And curiosity."

What can they learn today?

----

York had mentioned that Carolina's vanguard might come this morning. Sigma talked the mage's guard into letting him study in the courtyard. He's actually supposed to be meditating, but the appearance of not one but two soldiers in the Lady's colors diverts his attention.

"Carolina sure knows how to pick her guard," he says to them. "Though I bet I could show you two some tricks off the field that could blow your minds."

Look, it's bound to work on one of them.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Curiosity for the lady or your own? I don't think any of this lot would suit you, brother. They're far too fair and would make better use as ahamkara food or dregs parading around as archons."

Louisiana was unamused so far by the prince and his entourage. So far they had done nothing to prove her first assumptions wrong and had scratches of respect out of courtesy in part to her duty to Carolina.

--

She rests her hand on the hilt of her blade while standing beside the other vanguard while they watched over the practice fields quietly. There would be gentle touches to guide attentions to certain areas but mostly it was bursts of grunts or nods that they communicated with.

Her already poor mood sours further at the approach of a young man that she recognizes belonging to the prince. Rolling her eyes, she nudges her brother so they both can regard the shirtless miscreant. ...who is more than keen on hitting on them both. Such bravery but it fell on deaf ears when it came to Louisiana.

"Sadly I don't think you could do anything aside from flashy words and empty promises," she counters. "Besides neither of us are in the market for someone that seeks every opportunity to rid himself of his pants."

[ambitious_muse]

Maine only has time to grunt in amusement before the prince's...companion arrives. He then growls softly at the interruptions.

"Not interested," he agrees.

Sigma freezes. Why is everyone in this country so opposed to being hit on? Except for Daphne, that is, and she's plenty suspicious. And these two are, frankly, kind of terrifying. (Which is why he hit on them in the first place.)

"There's plenty I can do, but not if you aren't interested," he says, trying to recover his dignity. As if he had to get rid of his own pants in order to make them happy.