Decisions

[MamaBearJade 2090]

It had come down to a decision. Something she made when she was only thirteen. She had accepted that she would be marrying a man she had known she was a toddler. She accepted the fact that she was nothing more to other nobles than a piece of property used to create imaginary ties between families. Her own Horen blood with the blood of an elven noble. Not just any noble, Adorellan Kamura. The man known for his love of a dark elven woman. Yes, that's where the doubts start.
 
Katlyn was only thirteen when her Uncle, King William the third, had decided to marry her off, in hopes of separating Adorellan from his lover. Katlyn didn't understand it then. She thought she was just going to be doing what her Uncle wanted. She adored her uncle. He helped raise her. Him, papa Horen, and mama Ari. Yes, that was her family. She was devastated when her god parents left. Her father, Patrick Horen, returned and was soon exiled, under the name Nero.

No, she never understood it. She clung to her uncle. He was the last person in her family, besides her twin brother Alexander, who seemed to love her. She agreed to marrying Adorellan. She agreed to the life of being a duchess, to please him. To please the man she nearly thought of as a father. Years passed and soon she heard the whispers. The whispers of Adorellan and other women. At fifteen, her insecurity peaked. She began questioning people as to who Adorellan really was.
 
It wasn't until a few elven days before her birthday, and the wedding, did she learn Adorellan had slept with another woman. Even after all of this, she still felt a strong attachment to Adorellan. She kept the marriage, buried deep her insecurities, her fears. She was content knowing she would be taken care of and be with someone she loved. Then her insecurities began to manifest into something much darker than she could handle.

"Filthy Darkie." she would often mutter as her anger and pain started to bubble over. Rumors of him sleeping with a white haired woman had pushed her over the edge. Slowly she became more and more racist towards Dark Elves. It soon got to the point Adorellan nearly left her. No, he did leave her. She had followed him to a pier in Malinor. She watched as he did his water evocation and soon turn his ice spikes on her. 

The man she had come to love, despite the pain he had caused her, had turned on her. She had hurt him so much in her desire to just be loved, turned him. She waited for him to kill her. Instead, he passed out from the over use, however the memory stuck in her mind, began to haunt her in her dreams. She soon returned to Abresi, a home she was now told she was never to visit. Her uncle long gone, and her brother nowhere to be found.
 
She had no one she could turn to. She couldn't blame them. Who wanted to be around the spoiled racist peasant. Yes. Peasant. She was no longer a Royal. Adorellan stripped her of her title the moment he left Oren. She had lost her home, her family, and her way of life, because she loved him. Now she had returned to her desk. Her diary from when she was little sitting on the desk before her. She smiled sadly as she flips through the pages.
 
"When I grow up, I wanna be a queen!"
 
"When I grow up, people will like me~"
 
"When I grow up, I will be married to my bestest best friend."
 
"When I am older, I will be marrying my best and only friend, Adore."
 
Tears formed in her eyes as she looked over the words. She moved away from her chair and sat down on her bed. A worn teddy bear next to her. A gift from a friend she long since forgotten the name of. She pulled it close and laid back on her bed. Slowly she closed her eyes and began to sob, burying her face into the old fluffy bear. After a few mintues of sobbing and feeling sorry for herself, she sat up, finally settling on a decision.
 
Slowly, she changed into her old silken dress. She dyed her hair brown once more, leaving her bear on her bed. She picked up her tiara and moved to another room. She smiled softly as she made her way to her favorite spot. The overhang just outside of the Abresi Palace. She stood near the edge and smiled softly looking out at the setting sun. "I have decided Adore." she said softly. Her emerald eyes shimmering. "I have decided."

((This is not a perma-kill post. I have not fully decided as to what I am doing with the character. This is more so a place to put down her thoughts and her growth. Only comment if you are RPing, please and thank you))

[TheBareSheet 194]

Bad husband! Bad bad! Anyways, your characters always end up so tragic :( Poor you. 

[ĔṀĔŔĨĨČĶ 519]

Off in the distance Kaelys rubs his nose. He senses opportunity.

[Tsuyose 3285]

Off in the distance Adorellan rubs his nose. He senses Kaelys has no opportunity. 

[ĔṀĔŔĨĨČĶ 519]

Off in the distance Kaelys scratches his chin and looks around. He senses OOC Hostility.

[MamaBearJade 2090]

Katlyn sighs as she steps away from the edge. Her eyes determined as she ties a ribbon into her hair. She keeps herself proud, refusing to give up the one thing she has left. Her hands grip her gown, made in memory of her godmother Ari. She smiles softly as she takes a breath and heads out of Abresi. Although she no longer has a title, she would not give up her noble attire. No, she would still hold herself to the highest standard. She had decided.

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

Off in the distance Art rubs his nose. He senses his allergies acting up.

[Galendar 631]

Alexander's horse gallops up behind Katlyn, slowly moving around to her left, the man atop raises his visor, Alex staring down upon her with a slight smile. Not being aware of her situation, he calls to her, "Katlyn, where you heading? I'll give you a lift if you'd like...." he stares down upon her for a few moments, waiting for her response.

[Swgrclan 2682]

Tucked within a study bound within a keep of stone-brick and mortar sat a Dark-Elven gentlemen, half-hunched and focused upon paperwork displayed before him upon a fine, oak-wood desk; an inked quill scribbled upon the paper, dark eyes of dual colors flicking across the yellowed surface with each stroke. Much has been accomplished by this man and his ... gathering, many loose ties severed, many chances at advantages whisked from the streets, bound up and then brought back to his Keep to advance progression in the Dark Plans.

The scribbling halted, suddenly. His brows creased as this man thought back upon his duties with the Order of Sariants and the age-old Kingdom they served, which now lies in ruin, scattered and broken into strifeful peoples of a once powerful Empire. Then ... he recalled it's 'nobility', the remembrance coaxing a grimace upon his dark-toned features. Oren and it's Empire was much like a joke, treating half-breeds with excessive respect and disregarding the purity of the very race the nation was built upon.

Katlyn.. yes.. that one was one "he" didn't like. He remembered those several instances, feeling glares shot toward his person; it was faint, but he could practically smell it. A hypocritical racist -- he didn't like those, not at all. He often took people he didn't like away, and made sure he ... adjusted them to assure his appeal toward them in the future.

A thin hand reached over to grip a Plebeian's tabard draped against a chair, dragging it over so the Dark-Elf could look upon it with his studiful gaze. A slight smile graced his lips as he spoke in wavering, unsettling tones; seemingly to himself, though as if he spoke to the tabard:

"No one is more deserving of some rest than you my friend, and all the effort in the world would have gone to waste, until ... well ... let's just say your hour has come again, Viktor."

Perhaps Viktor would pay Katlyn a visit soon.

 

[Moot 1719]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.