OOC Permissions Post
May. 30th, 2025 08:05 pm( Cut for space )
Organizing a proper wedding is no small affair even on Earth. In Tamriel, without the benefit of instant communications, instant transport and year-round amenities, it requires a good deal more planning. Particularly when it comes to guests who live any distance away. Roads and seaways alike are dangerous. Bandits prowl the land routes. Inclement weather closes mountain passes and keeps ships in their berths. Everything, above all, takes time.
With spring in full flight, snows melting and roads well and truly open, the excuses for delays in invitation replies and guest arrivals are both running out. Mostly this hasn’t been an issue. The arcane side of their guest list have their own ways of sending word, and the military side have first call on the Imperial courier network. Everyone who matters is accounted for. Except, that is, for one…
In the library of the Bruma house, Stratos leans on a desk covered in papers and rubs his eyes. Another day, another absence of word. Marcella did warn him that her mother would be nigh-impossible to contact. She was almost too resigned to the fact to be grumpy about it. But Stratos had thought his connections would get him where his cousin had been unable to reach. The trouble, he sees now, is that he really can’t be sure where that is.
One guest. Perhaps it’s not a disaster if she can’t be there. But this is his mother’s sister, and they have so few near relatives left, since the War….
And he’s getting worried.
Stratos rises then, and tidies away his writing implements. He heads downstairs to his room and changes into better gear for travelling- not too warm, he doubts he’s going to end up in Skyrim – and then he goes to knock on Felix’s – well, his and Jim’s – door. Nereus is out visiting with Terentius, so there’s nothing else to distract the youngest two, nothing else that ought to be occupying them. And if they’re still resting on the Enterprise - well, he’ll just have to go there and fetch one of them.
With spring in full flight, snows melting and roads well and truly open, the excuses for delays in invitation replies and guest arrivals are both running out. Mostly this hasn’t been an issue. The arcane side of their guest list have their own ways of sending word, and the military side have first call on the Imperial courier network. Everyone who matters is accounted for. Except, that is, for one…
In the library of the Bruma house, Stratos leans on a desk covered in papers and rubs his eyes. Another day, another absence of word. Marcella did warn him that her mother would be nigh-impossible to contact. She was almost too resigned to the fact to be grumpy about it. But Stratos had thought his connections would get him where his cousin had been unable to reach. The trouble, he sees now, is that he really can’t be sure where that is.
One guest. Perhaps it’s not a disaster if she can’t be there. But this is his mother’s sister, and they have so few near relatives left, since the War….
And he’s getting worried.
Stratos rises then, and tidies away his writing implements. He heads downstairs to his room and changes into better gear for travelling- not too warm, he doubts he’s going to end up in Skyrim – and then he goes to knock on Felix’s – well, his and Jim’s – door. Nereus is out visiting with Terentius, so there’s nothing else to distract the youngest two, nothing else that ought to be occupying them. And if they’re still resting on the Enterprise - well, he’ll just have to go there and fetch one of them.
Paternal Impostures
Nov. 10th, 2018 09:16 pm“My dear Felix,
“I write this letter in the same haste with which I travel to meet you. Forgive its brevity, but there is much to be arranged if I am to arrive in time, and I hope that our swift reunion will make up for a short communication. I was delighted, of course, to learn from your brother of your betrothal, though I am sorry that I have heard nothing from you concerning the young man in question. I must confess I am sadly confused that Stratos mentioned no details at all beyond the act of his existence, and at the very end of his letter!”
“I can presume that you will be returning to Bruma for the ceremony, and though your brother said little I infer that this will take place soon. Thus I have obtained an immediate leave of absence from my post; I will hope to meet you and, of course, your husband-to-be, in our home before Evening Star.
“My warmest regards to you, my son, and to your betrothed,
Father.”
( Stratos knows who to blame. )
Shipboard Attire (for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smartass_captain)
Jul. 19th, 2017 05:51 pmStratos has never seen Jim's ship, aside from a few pictures Felix brought back for her. Her brother has been here many times, she knows. There's real curiosity in her eyes when the PINpoint drops them in his quarters and she has the chance to look about them. She doesn't know much of ships, and mere images didn't give her much sense of what to expect. There's none of the noise or the smell she expected subconsciously.
"This is... rather nice," she says, stepping back. It's more spacious than a captain's room on any ship she's been aboard. Warm without the scent of a fire. Sleek and neatly put-together as Jim likes to be himself. And there's a sense of... something all around them, like a muted enchantment. She can see why Felix spends so much time here.
Well, the most important one came with her, of course.
"This is... rather nice," she says, stepping back. It's more spacious than a captain's room on any ship she's been aboard. Warm without the scent of a fire. Sleek and neatly put-together as Jim likes to be himself. And there's a sense of... something all around them, like a muted enchantment. She can see why Felix spends so much time here.
Well, the most important one came with her, of course.
Once they’ve picked up Felix, Stratos leads the way back through their door. It’s left to his little brother to unseal the wards and stay back to set them back in place before following. The tribune-turned teenager conjures a light – that he can do, still – and shows Jim up the sloping tunnel beyond. The stone walls look like a mix of natural erosion and worn masonry, lit by intermittent torches mounted along the way.
It looks like a straightforward path, bending this way and that but leading steadily upward. Stratos, however, is well aware of the illusions laid to give that impression and he keeps Jim close. He’s frowning deeply as they climb, trying to ready himself for what’s to come. Trying to convince himself that all will go well when he presents himself to his subordinates.
It feels like a much longer climb than usual, though his legs can’t be that much shorter.
“Are you hungry?” he asks Jim over his shoulder abruptly. That’s one thing he can be sure of remedying anyway.
It looks like a straightforward path, bending this way and that but leading steadily upward. Stratos, however, is well aware of the illusions laid to give that impression and he keeps Jim close. He’s frowning deeply as they climb, trying to ready himself for what’s to come. Trying to convince himself that all will go well when he presents himself to his subordinates.
It feels like a much longer climb than usual, though his legs can’t be that much shorter.
“Are you hungry?” he asks Jim over his shoulder abruptly. That’s one thing he can be sure of remedying anyway.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nexus_crossingsThis trip isn’t strictly a mission, but there are just as many rules to observe, as many precautions to run through beforehand. Cover stories, dress codes, a brief rundown of Tamrielic geography. The fact that the Thalmor wizards will check for weapons and may well sense any of the electrical devices so popular among Nexus-goers. But then, Stratos has laid down his own polite ban on PINpoints. (Polite, because he’s quite sure playing on Samus’ sense of courtesy, if not friendship, is the most reliable approach.
Visits to the Thalmor Embassy are usually dull, dangerous and silently unpleasant. Stratos wonders if he hasn’t made this one too interesting for himself. He’ll find out, one way or the other.
He’s waiting at his door to Skyrim come the appropriate day, attired in his formal clothes - mostly dark blue, but there’s a Legion-red cape draped over his shoulders lest anyone forget who he’s representing.
Visits to the Thalmor Embassy are usually dull, dangerous and silently unpleasant. Stratos wonders if he hasn’t made this one too interesting for himself. He’ll find out, one way or the other.
He’s waiting at his door to Skyrim come the appropriate day, attired in his formal clothes - mostly dark blue, but there’s a Legion-red cape draped over his shoulders lest anyone forget who he’s representing.
Writing Prompts: January
Jan. 12th, 2016 09:00 pm
'Luxury commodity: often contraband, seldom verified. For best results, conceal before use.'
By now Stratos quite expects to find the forum desk unattended. He doesn’t bother to be annoyed. Wherever he is and whether or not he knows it, Felix is doing his job. That’s what matters. Besides, his little brother needs friends. It’s in his nature. Friends from other realms are hardly ideal, but they’re all he’s likely to get in the foreseeable future. Stratos accepts that.
At least they’re all mortal so far.
He stands by the table, hood around his shoulders and expression unreadable while he flips through the log book. One has to use that term advisedly, given the proportion of scribbles, doodles and indecipherable shorthand contained within. Deliberate carelessness. He allows himself a sigh.
Without anything particularly interesting in the recent entries, he keeps an eye out for any forum-goers who might approach.
At least they’re all mortal so far.
He stands by the table, hood around his shoulders and expression unreadable while he flips through the log book. One has to use that term advisedly, given the proportion of scribbles, doodles and indecipherable shorthand contained within. Deliberate carelessness. He allows himself a sigh.
Without anything particularly interesting in the recent entries, he keeps an eye out for any forum-goers who might approach.
Open Door [ IC Contact Post ]
Apr. 7th, 2015 01:08 amThe tribune has a small office on the upper floors of the Castle Dour garrison. For a few hours each day he can be found writing letters or working his way through the stacks of parchment on his desk. He keeps the window open, but the sea breeze never seems to disturb his paperwork. His door is likewise open to those seeking information, work or a personal word.
Less obvious, tucked in a pocket out of sight, is the PINpoint set to quietly buzz if he should receive a message.
Alternatively, when Stratos is out attending to his duties, the guard in the hall is willing to take messages to be left on his desk. Or slipped under his door, for those who'd rather sneak a note in.
Less obvious, tucked in a pocket out of sight, is the PINpoint set to quietly buzz if he should receive a message.
Alternatively, when Stratos is out attending to his duties, the guard in the hall is willing to take messages to be left on his desk. Or slipped under his door, for those who'd rather sneak a note in.
