Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Britannia Palace

Tiko

Draconic Administrator/Mentor
Administrator
Mentor
Nexus GM
as written by Script

Hot water cascaded onto his bare flesh, a steady stream billowing from above, breaking over his head and flowing down to the soles of his feet. Enveloped in the steamy embrace of the water’s flow, he felt his mind ease into a relaxed state, his spirit finding zen in the simple act of bathing. He was engulfed by the ambient sounds of the forest; of frogs and birds singing their collective song in a harmonious chorus; he could see the light of the sun breaking through in rays as the shade of the trees painted over the skyline; he watched as the grass rustled, contained predator and prey alike within the vibrant green garrison.

The trees around him rose like oaken towers to the sky, their ever-watchful tenants looming above, ready to be carried off on wings of resplendent color. Beneath his feet he could almost feel the softness of the rich soil, that longing sensation seeping its way to his very bones. He glanced around himself as the water blanketed his person, taking a deep breath, trying to capture that wondrous forest air within his own lungs. He exhaled, a smile curling at his lips as for just one moment, he could escape reality.

Then, with his hand on the holoscreen to his right, he sealed off the faucet, cutting short the water’s descent. Circling around his feet, the liquid drained beneath him, the scenery before him breaking down in a multitude of brightly-colored squares, until he was left staring at the flat, translucent walls of glass that encircled his shower chamber. He sighed weightily, trodding to the door, his feet slapping against the still-wet tiles underneath his soles. The thin glass slid sideways, and he reached out for his towel, rubbing himself down with the soft cotton until he was sufficiently devoid of moisture. He dressed quickly, donning a pair of boxer-briefs and a plain, white bodysuit that was specifically designed to his proportions, fitting snugly against his frame. He found the damned thing uncomfortable.

Not as uncomfortable as what was to come next, however.

He exited his washroom, stepping out into his chambers. He stopped, allowing himself a glance about the room; his bed had already been made up by one of the many servants roaming around the palace, the azure silk sheets smoothed out flawlessly, with nary a wrinkle in sight, the top portion folded over delicately. The room was massive, bearing a plethora of ironwood furniture, from stout bedside tables to hulking wardrobes. The large, ornate window overlooking the garden was framed by the velvet curtains that were now carefully pulled aside to invite in the morning sunlight. Overhead hung a delicately-crafted chandelier, the entire apparatus smithed from only the purest gold, its fluorescent light enough to encapsulate the whole room in its mighty glow. The carpets were a deep crimson, with gold-colored lines arranged in diamond patterns, soft to the touch and easy on the feet to walk upon. The walls were painted a pale blue, and were decorated with a variety of paintings, many of which that were far older than he.

He shook his head as he surveyed his surroundings, the dreary monotony of his situation settling in and making a home of his soul, driving further the nails of his weariness and apathy; none of it towards his people, no, but towards his station. King John Pendleton IV had been known by that title for going on twenty-nine years now, after succeeding his own father at the ripe old age of twenty-five. It was a position that, so long ago, Johnathan had accepted with a great deal of pride and sense of responsibility; he had been delighted to bear the burden of kingship, to lead his country, his people, into the next era of prosperity. Now, all he felt was the weight of exhaustion and the tedium of routine. Formality now equated to over-long, arduous meetings with government officials about topics that they had covered umptillion times prior, and protocol meant strict regulations that only served to make living as ghastly as one could possibly imagine.

Bleary-eyed and downtrodden was the new normal for John, and there wasn’t much he could do to relieve himself of the anguish. Not for the moment, at least. As ashamed as he was to admit such a thing to himself, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t yearn for his son’s deployment to end so that he could come back home--a hero--so that John could finally surrender his throne and live out his remaining days a normal, burdenless man.

Sitting on the nearby leather sofa, he let slip another gaunt exhale, resting his weathered arms on his knees, his entire body wracked from the strain of sovereignty. He slipped his face into his hands, feeling every wrinkle, every scar that adorned his wisened face, the white, coarse hair on his strong chin. He ran his weathered hand through his sickly blonde hair, frustrated and contemplative about how he was going to make it through the day without collapsing from the boring chore that had become his every day.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door leading to his bedchambers. “M’lord?” Came the muffled voice of the Morrigite manservant, “Are you ready? It’s time to prepare for your address, sir.” One last burdened sigh escaped his lungs, evaporating into the air, dispersing within the sound waves that carried it off to the high heavens, to be forgotten with the rest of his woes. He stood, his deep blue and piercing gaze hardening upon the doorframe, as if trying with all their might to see past it, to see beyond the walls of the palace and into a better place. Alas, the king was resigned to see through his duty, and suddenly he was drawn back to the reality at hand. “M’lord?” came the concerned cry of the servant. John cleared his throat. “Come in.”

It was time to waste another precious day.
 
as written by Script

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Good morning, my prince."

An inhuman groan emerged from Leo, muffled through the pillow in which his face was buried. The silky material was cool on his skin, and he burrowed further into it as his alarm continued to periodically buzz. "Fuck off, Rosie," he mumbled, pulling his blankets up over his head.

God, his head. It felt like a swarm of angry bees had been let loose in his skull, and every pulse of the alarm was a barrage of stings. "Shut the fuck upppp... Disable the alarm..."

The alarm remained unmoved. Moaning, Leo rolled over onto his back, keeping the pillow pressed to his face. "Oh my god, stooppp... It's too early..."

"I'm sorry, my prince. But you have an afternoon lunch scheduled with Lady Alice in one hour's time."

"Tell her I can't make it, then." Alice could wait. She wasn't that important, and it was only lunch.

"You instructed me in no uncertain terms last night to make sure that you attended the lunch, my prince."

Leo blinked hazily into the pillow. "That doesn't sound like something I'd say..." he muttered.

A few moments passed, before a recording began to play. It was slightly slurred, but it was clearly his voice. "Rosie... you gotta- and I mean gotta make sure... make sure I get up for that lunch thing tomorrow... you know how many times I've cancelled on Alice lately? I..." there was a pause, and a mumbling that sounded vaguely like an attempt at counting. "... too many, that's how many. It's a diiick moove. And not the good kind, either, ifyouknowhatImea-"

"Alriiight," Leo interrupted with a huff. "You've made your bloody point."

Damned computerised maid and its damned ... evidence. With another heavy sigh, he finally peeled the pillow from his face and opened his eyes.

He immediately regretted his decision, as the light sent throbs of pain through his skull. "Dim the liiights!" he whined, clapping his hands over his eyes and screwing them shut again. After a few moments, he opened them again to find that the blinds had swung shut and the lighting had dimmed to a more tolerable level.

It took another few minutes, but eventually Leo managed to drag himself out of the luxurious confines of his bed, leaving the blankets trailing onto the floor and shuffling across towards his bathroom, shedding his nightclothes as he went.

"Painkillers..." he mumbled as he got to the sink, reaching for the cabinet beside it. It swung open before his hand reached it, and a bottle of pills was shoved to the forefront ready for him to grasp. He shook a few of them into his palm before replacing the bottle and gulping them down, followed by a swig of the glass of water that had been waiting for him on the side.

As he reached for his toothbrush, he was vaguely aware of movement coming from his room behind him. That would be the actual maids hurrying in to make his bed for him and set out clothes while he showered. Hopefully one of the outfits they presented would actually be good today, rather than a bunch of stuffy and overly formal monkey suits.

He finished brushing, then flossing, and turned to the shower. "Shower on, forty point eight-five degrees," he instructed, the numbers rolling off his tongue with practised ease despite his fogged mind. The hot water jetted out immediately, and he shuffled into the stream with a luxurious sigh.

That was better. He stood there in the hot water for an excessively long time, letting it wash away the worst of his foggy, zombified state of mind, along with the painkillers. By the time he emerged and started to set about getting dressed, he almost felt human again. Almost.

"Is breakfast ready?" he inquired as he was putting the finishing touches to his hair with a brush and straightener, sat cross legged in front of the oversized wall mirror.

"It is approaching three in the afternoon, my princ-"

"I didn't ask what time it was, Rosie. I asked whether breakfast was ready. I want a full cooked breakfast. That can be lunch. If Alice wants something else, she can have it, but I want a cooked breakfast."

"Of course, my prince. I'll inform the cooks."

"Good good." With a final flick of his hair, Leo pushed himself to his feet and looked himself up and down in the mirror. After taking a moment to make sure that when he stretched juust enough, his top rode up to expose his slender midriff, he nodded with satisfaction and turned for the door.

"Let the staff know to tell Alice I'm on my way~"
 
as written by Script and The Afterman

It didn't take long until the palace servants had prepared exactly what the young prince had asked for: a cooked breakfast consisting of everything he had specified, right down to the removal of ingredients he was dissatisfied with. The servant charged with delivering the dish, Teller, moved swiftly with the foodstuffs in hand, making his way to the prince's location in the palace's reception parlor. Balancing the covered silver platter in one hand, Teller sauntered over to where Leonard was seated on one of the lavishly comfortable leather sofas; the servant had to mentally check his levels of annoyance upon resting his eyes on the prince, finding being in his company to be a most unpleasant experience.

Still, he had to just grin and bear it. Clearing a place on the table in the center of the neatly-arranged furniture, Teller removed the lid to reveal a steaming (but not too hot) meal resting upon an assortment of platters, a glass of the prince's preferred breakfast beverage, a smaller cup filled with breakfast tea, and a set of silverware; all prepared specially for the king's youngest brat.

"Young master Pendleton, breakfast is served," Teller said formally. 'Try not to choke, you little shit,' he thought to himself, his visage not betraying any of the contempt he felt for the prince.

Oblivious to Teller's disdain, Leo beamed at the servant cheerfully. "Ahh, and not a moment too soon!" he exclaimed, swinging his feet off of the sofa and sitting upright. He licked his lips, taking in the array of sausages, eggs, bacon and other traditional breakfast items arrayed on the table. A full Hyloran breakfast. "You're the best, Teller. The cooks, too."

With that, he tucked in with all the voracity of someone who'd spent a fair portion of the previous night emptying his stomach, hunched over a toilet bowl. Mouth half-full, he turned to glance at Teller again. "Any shign of-" he swallowed, clearing his throat. "Ahem. Any sign of Alice, yet?"

Teller faced the wall behind Leo as he spoke, hands folded behind his back. "No word from her yet, master Pendleton, but I'm certain she'll-"

The servant was interrupted by an unexpected ringing from the holocomm. posted on the wall off to his right. "Answer," Teller said. Immediately, a bright, crystal-clear image popped up from the round, mounted apparatus, revealing the face of one of the many other servants. "Oh, Mr. Teller," the young man said, slightly surprised.

"What is it, Jervis?" Teller inquired.
"Pardon me, sir, but, Lady Alice has arrived to see the young prince."
'Perfect,' Teller thought. "Well don't just stand there, let her in!"
"Well, sir, she seems to have already let herself in," Jervis responded sheepishly.

Teller mentally called out to Na-Mathair to grant him saintly patience; as if having to deal with Prince Leonard Pendleton wasn't already tiresome, now here came this other brat freely striding around the palace as if she too owned the place.

If she'd been anyone else, security would have shot her dead.

Leo gave a giggle of laughter at the news of Alice's entry, tilting his head back to address Teller over his shoulder. "She never has been very good at waiting, has she?" he remarked jovially. "Someone should probably make sure she doesn't get lost, though... Last time she accidentally wandered into my room while I was changing, the silly thing."

Teller darted his eyes sideways towards where the prince sat, a begrudged frown splayed across his face. "Just...find her, Jervis. Quickly." With that, Teller terminated the call, turning to face Leo once more. "Terribly sorry, young master. We'll have Lady Alice escorted here posthaste."

"See to it," Leo nodded, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth. "It's impolite to keep a lady waiting, after all."
 
as written by Calcos and Script

Rushing through the palace like a deranged madman, Jervis was scrambling about in search of where Alice had went. "Lady Alice!" he called, his voice reverberating off of the towering walls that surrounded him. "Shit!" he hissed in a low tone, "I'm already in for a reprimand, I don't need my head mounted on the wall, too." Frantic and at his wits' end, he rushed from room to massive room, his nerves shot and his heart racing in terror of what sort of punishment awaited him when Teller finally had words with him.

"Lady Alice!" he called out again, to no further avail than he'd achieved previously. The young servant swept his black hair to the side, frustration getting the better of him the longer this predicament carried on. Flailing around like this was getting tiresome, and he'd just about had enough of the whole ordeal. Exiting out into one of the larger chambers, he called out for the girl again, craning his neck to attempt to hear a response from...well, anyone really.

Finally, he stamped his foot, causing a loud clack to echo throughout the room. "Can't anyone tell me where that insufferable wretch ran off to?!" he shouted. "Which wretch would that be, Mr. Jervis?" he heard a voice speak from behind him. Slowly, the servant turned, eyes wide and mouth agape as he watched one of the guardsmen usher none other than Lady Alice towards the young butler. The girl, clearly not cognizant to whom the subject of Jervis' outburst was, simply smiled brightly with all the look of a spoiled, moronic child.

"Ah...just a rat that got loose in the palace somehow, sir," he said in an attempt to detract from the furious spout that erupted from him. "Oh! You've found the dear lady! Superb work sir! I'll just escort her to the young master, if you'd be so kind." With that, he extended a hand, prompting Alice to saunter forward and be taken, gently, by the arm and led onward. The guardsman merely shook his head, smirking, and turned away to resume his post.

Leading Alice to the reception area, Jervis presented the young woman to the prince. "Lady Alice, master Pendleton," he said, stepping aside to allow the young girl to join Leo where he now sat. "If that will be all, my prince, I must return to my duties."

____

Leo swivelled around in his seat to face Alice and Jervis as they arrived, flashing a smile to the pair of them. "Lost again, Alice? You're making a habit of that," he tutted. "You'd think you'd know the lay of the land by now, after so many times."

He glanced across to Jervis, then, smiling. "Sure, unless Alice would like something to eat or drink? Actually, I quite fancy an apple after that breakfast, to cleanse my palate. If you wouldn't mind?"

____

"Very good sir, I shall fetch it right away. And for you, young lady?" Jervis inquired, mustering just enough faux hospitality to hide the fact that he was ready to split at the seams in a furious rage. The young girl looked at Jervis, then to Leo, and back to the servant again, retaining that annoyingly bright smile of hers that seemed to suggest that she hadn't even two brain cells to rub together.

Jervis found his situation quite irksome, to say the least; his father had been a servant to the Pendletons, and had always regaled young Jervis in how fulfilling a job it was. Then again, he suspected his father had never had to deal with Prince Leonard Pendleton, and hadn't the slightest inkling of the hell that royalty could truly put you through. Jervis did know, however; and he waited for Alice's reply whilst standing there, trying with all his might to contain his shakes of rage.

Finally, she shook her head. "No, I'm fine for the moment." Jervis gave a slight bow. "Very good. I shall return posthaste with Sir's apple, then." With that, the servant turned on his heel, striding out so that he could find somewhere to explode outside of the royalty's earshot. Teller watched him go, feeling a quiet sympathy for the young man.

"Will that be all, sir?" he inquired.

____

"I should think so," Leo answered with a smile, entirely oblivious to Jervis' anger. "Do sit down, Alice," he added, gesturing towards one of the nearby armchairs.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about? Nothing to do with last night, I hope..." he laughed nervously. "I have a few blank spots towards the end of the evening. All I can say is thank the Mother for painkillers..."

The party at the young Count Andrew's penthouse in the city had been raucous, to say the least. The gatherings were a regular occurrence between the prince and his wide circle of friends and associates from both high society and his college years, and they had a tendency to get a little messy.

____

Teller excused himself shortly thereafter, allowing the pair of young ones to converse among themselves, saving him the splitting headache that was their interaction.

Alice seemed to perk up, her smile trying to widen even further as she spoke to Leonard, her hands flapping around as frantically as her lips as the words fell from her mouth in a hurried, almost incoherent jumble. "Oh my goddess, okay, you know that Vera Swan is in town right? Like, right now. She's gonna be playing at the Veranda and my friends are coming and...oh you have to go with us, Leo! Pleasepleaseplease it'll be so much fun, I swear!"

All of this chattering and she had completely neglected the fact that Leo was late to have her for lunch in the first place. None of that seemed to matter to her, though, as she was finally getting what she wanted. She was practically bouncing in her seat as she regaled him in the details of Vera Swan's performance; Alice was a rather massive fan of the singer, after all; having Leo join was just an added bonus.

____

Leo smiled, giving a light chuckle at Alice's enthusiasm. "Vera Swan? That is exciting, no doubt, but uhg..." he rolled his eyes. "How soon is it? Like, tonight? You just know that mother and father will insist on me calling and making all sorts of laborious security arrangements. As if anyone's going to recognise me in a crowd at a gig..."

The prince sat back with his drink and sighed. "Honestly, I can never just go anywhere, it always has to be this big kerfuffle of logistics and security teams. Yawn."

____

The look on Alice's face was sullen and full of disappointment; it seemed that Leo wouldn't be able to come with her if the hassle of gathering a security detail was going to prohibit him from leaving the palace. Almost immediately, however, she perked up, beaming that big, bright and stupid smile she is so well-known for.

"Well, maybe they don't need to know you're going..." she said suggestively, casting a look over at Leo with her sweet, innocent doe eyes and a dumb, sheepish smile.
 
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