Admired

Admired

Favored

Noah Venora was on a date. An arranged date. With another modestly wealthy young maiden...

And his own mother.

Currently, the two women were tittering over the fine new dress the maiden had worn-- which, of course, Ebony had supplied. Pink. The color of Venora. His mother must have liked this girl to flatter her with such a shade; perhaps she would be the one to be his bride.

Bride or not, however, it made no difference: Noah himself was ill-content, trailing after the two as they gossiped, strolling through the marketplace of Andaris. A date with the young woman, alone, would have been much preferable. Without his mother there acting as chaperone, spoiling any honest conversation the two might have had simply with her presence. As it was it seemed the date was more between mother and maiden.

Well, he would see what he might do about that.

Every once and a while, to spite his mother's meddling, Noah sent the maiden --Meadow her name was, and he liked that quite a lot-- a covert smile. Making sure his mother didn't see. And every time he did, the girl lit up, lovely face going as pretty pink as her dress. Eyelashes fluttering at him, then looking away, shy.

Noah smiled again, this time to himself.

Okay. So perhaps flirting in such a manner was not the worst way to spend a crisp, Vhalar morning.

---

They had just been to the theater, Noah managing to position himself on Meadow's side for the show. Now they were back on the streets, the maiden sighing with happiness on his arm. Ebony stalked a few paces behind them, predatory and eavesdropping, and Noah tried to ignore his mother in favor of Meadow who pressed daringly close to his side. Their faces were tilted towards one another as they spoke in low, amiable tones. Meadow, he saw, had a pleasantly open face, unlike most of the highborn women he had known.

Noah found that in this moment he was actually enjoying himself. The brush of Meadow's skirts against his lower leg as they walked. The warmth of her gloved hand. Her light touch. The soft smell of roses-- no doubt a Venora perfume from Ebony.

It was perhaps the perfect afternoon. Yellow sunlight glinted off a bracelet of small jewels on Meadow's dainty wrist. There was not a cloud in the sky.

---

It was their fourth proper date. From the smug look on his mother's face --who still insisted on accompanying them, though she didn't know about the stolen kisses they had shared in the Venora gardens-- Noah would soon be given the order to ask the question. Marriage. How little he knew of Meadow; but what he did know, he liked. She was, for lack of a better word, a good girl. He got along with her. Not only that, but he thought, looking down into her bright smiling face, that he might even feel something more.

So why was it his eyes lingered on another woman when they swept across the street?

Not just any woman.

Beautiful, he thought, her figure dressed in pretty but concealing clothes. The warm distant brown of her eyes. A flash of auburn hair, tucked into a scarf. His breath had been swept away with the wind.

Perhaps he had stared for too long, for the woman --not a maiden like Meadow, she was beyond that-- tilted her head as if she'd heard someone shout. And then turned and looked upon him.

He could remember nothing else of that day. Even at night, lying alone in his bed, her gaze remained on him. Remained in his mind.

---

He made an excuse the next morning and went out to the city, but no matter where he looked the woman wasn't there. Resignation in his stomach, he returned back to the House of Venora-- only to find her, chatting gaily to Meadow, in the gardens. How she had gotten there he didn't know. Shock, that breathlessness at her beauty, long, waving hair, those eyes, those lips. Meadow was smiling at him, pale in comparison. He could barely hear her when she spoke. "Oh, Noah! This is my new friend, Ambrosine."

Ambrosine, he thought, and he was as lost in her name as he was in her eyes.

---

That evening he and Ambrosine shared their first of many nights. Not in passion, but outside, in the splendor of the gardens, under the stars. Like a boy he had climbed out of his bedroom window. He stared at her in the starlight; she stared back at him.

Later, when they were talking, she told him something that he felt mirrored within him: that he was the most beautiful man in Rynmere, and that she wanted him all for herself. He had barely spared a thought for dear Meadow for the rest of the day, the maiden sleeping sound and naive in one of the House's guestrooms.

"And you are the most beautiful woman," he told Ambrosine, like a schoolboy again, touching lightly the gloss of her hair, her pink cheek, the soft shell of her ear. Marveling at her, how she seemed to marvel at him. Her fingertips traced his jaw. "And I want you, all to myself."

---

They were the 'best of friends', or so they told Ebony when she began, impatient, to inquire. Old friends. Where had they met? They had known each other as children. Somewhere in the city, perhaps? He remembered her face; she remembered the feel of their hands, intertwined.

Every day, it seemed, they were together. Sometimes with Ebony, sometimes even with Meadow, sharing a tea or stories or lessons, but Noah didn't care who else was around, who might see. He just cared for Ambrosine.

They were in the woods a fair walk from the house, tiptoeing barefoot through a stream. Ambrosine. They were in the study, and he watched her, wanting to reach out as she read one of his father's many serious books of law and politics and war. Ambrosine. She was laughing as they sat across from each other at a dinner date, Meadow on his other side with her sad, open face, watching, and though his soon-to-be-betrothed's gaze was upon them neither of them seemed able to help it.

Ambrosine. Not even the way she seemed to flaunt their relationship could put him off, leaning in close to him so Meadow's face burned red and her eyes bright with tears. Not even the small, selfish curve of her lips when Meadow abruptly stood, excusing herself tearfully, and Noah was forced to stand and follow.

Ambrosine was there. Clinging to his arm. "Let her go," she said, sultry-voiced, and he hesitated.

"My love," he excused himself, and left her standing there beside the dinner table.

Outside on the cobblestones, Meadow wept into his shoulder. And he could do nothing but hold her. "You love her," she told him, not a question, and he could not deny.

"I love her," Noah agreed. He put his hand under Meadow's chin, lifting her face. Tears sparkled in her eyes. "But I cannot marry her."

The ring his mother had picked out for Meadow lay in the palm of his hand. "Will you?" he asked, and though her tears broke again at the question, from loneliness, or his betrayals, or jealousy, Meadow put her hand in his and said, "I do."

They embraced then, not passionately, little more than dubious friends. But as he held Meadow, consoling her, congratulating her, promising her-- he looked over and saw Ambrosine, standing in the eatery's doorway. She smiled. She simply stood there and watched.

---

That night was the first night they were passionate. He and his love. For all he knew, Meadow slept soundly in her room, the ring on her finger. He found Ambrosine in his. He had stopped guessing how she did things like that; he knew enough to know she put herself where she wanted to be. She was waiting for him. There was a crown of Venora roses in her hair. She was wrapped in the silk of his bedsheets.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked, sighing into her shoulder, and she pressed her body close.

"Many wicked things," she said, and together they were wicked indeed.

They were wicked for many, many of the ensuing nights, in fact. But never had wickedness felt so pure.

---

"Do you love me?" he would often ask her, as he admired her from close or afar.

"Don't you see?" she would answer. Never a yes. Just, Don't you see? In time he convinced himself that that was all the answer he needed.

---

And maybe he couldn't see; see past her beauty, her lust, her charms. Because one day she was there, eating breakfast with him in bed. Strawberry jam on warm bread and mid-morning orange juice and champagne. And the next she was gone. Without a word. Without a goodbye. And he remembered that soon, he was to be married.

---

He didn't see her again, except perhaps the day of his wedding. Meadow had brightened once more from the sad, wilted girl she had been in Ambrosine's shining presence. She, for the first time, looked truly beautiful to him. A wreath of flowers, very like the one Ambrosine had worn, in her braided hair. The dress. The candles. The light and life. His mother's approving face.

And far, in the back of the temple, a familiar silhouette, a halo of flowing auburn hair. He shouldn't have let his eyes wander again, and neither could he do anything more. Not now. Instead he looked back to Meadow. She was beaming up at him. They were saying their vows.

Fulfillment Ability

Hart can sense when a nearby being is in need of help, and what it is the being needs. If pressed, he can also sense what the being wants, though this will double the severity of drawbacks he experiences.

Drawbacks: Once having discovered a being's needs, Hart feels compelled to linger until those needs are met, one way or another. Leaving a being in need weighs heavily on him for trials or even weeks after, depending on the circumstances. Depending on whether or not he fulfills the being's needs, he may experience obsessive thoughts, depression, or mania. Likewise, when Hart uses this ability to assess want, not need, he feels compelled to respond to that want-- especially if the being wants something of him, specifically.

Wish Ability PSF Approval [url=https://www.standingtrials.com/viewtopic.php?f=362&t=15769 here]

Hart has the ability to grant Wishes. As the mortalborn of Need, he is able to grant a being's truest, deepest Wish. This Wish is not what a being thinks they most want, but what a being most truly Needs.

By using Wish in tandem with his Fulfillment ability, Hart is able to get a grasp of a being's truest Needs-- not just what they need right now, but what they need most of all.

Each Wish is individual and needs to be approved by the PSF. Should a Wish involve one or multiple PCs, all PCs involved are to be included in the approval process. The types of Wishes Hart grants usually have to do with undoing past or current trauma or protecting from future harm.

Drawbacks: For every Wish Hart grants, he uses up a bit of himself, of who and what he is as a mortalborn. Because of this, and because of how powerful each Wish is, Hart can only grant 12 Wishes in all. After each Wish granted, Hart will gain a Fracture scar, and after he grants his final Wish, he will completely Shatter.

Each time Hart Fractures from using Wish, he will weaken physically. Though he will not appear to age physically, the ravages of the Wish will be apparent. Hart's hair will slowly lighten from its natural dark color to salt and pepper to wispy white. His eyes will start to cloud over and/or lighten in color, and he may slowly lose his vision or his other senses. His skin will lose the pliancy of youth and become soft and nearly translucent. He will grow steadily weaker, and may eventually have trouble walking. These, and/or other such changes will become more apparent the more Wishes Hart grants. Also, for each Wish, he will gain a silvery, incandescent Fracture scar.

However, for all of the physical drawbacks, Hart's mind will not be affected by this ability, nor his immortal lifespan.

Living Glamour Ability

Once a trial, Hart can effectively turn himself and anything inanimate that he is wearing or carrying (ie clothes and a backpack, or whatever is in his pockets or hands) into a living glamour. His body becomes briefly incorporeal, for up to two bits.

During this time it is obvious he is no longer a solid thing; his image does not change shape or form (he will still look like himself) but it will flicker like a candle about to go out. During this time he can take no physical damage as his body is no longer on the physical plane, and neither can he deal physical damage to any object or person. Using this ability, Hart can go through inanimate objects but not animate ones, and he cannot be held or grabbed.

Drawbacks: During this state Hart is particularly vulnerable to nonphysical attacks, especially magic. Hart also has to be careful not to materialize while still within an inanimate object; should he do so, he would take crippling damage to his body (for instance, if his arm was still within a wall, the wall would likely break or sever his arm upon materialization).

Bliss Ability

Using this ability, Hart can bring someone to the pinnacle of pleasure; thrust into pure bliss the target is rendered unable to feel anything else. During this time the target is in such extreme bliss that their mind becomes clouded, making it hard to focus. The effects are similar to being high or drunk and last as long as the target is within Hart's presence (within 100 ft of Hart), or, should the target remain in his presence for an extended period, for up to one break per day. Hart's touch, in this way, can cause an intense high. Because of this he has to be careful how often he uses this ability on a person or risk them becoming addicted.

Drawbacks: About ten bits after using this ability Hart will become extremely exhausted and have to rest to regain his strength. How long he needs to rest depends on how long he has used the ability (using the ability for 1/2 a break = 1/2 a break or more of rest). At minimum he needs to rest 10 bits.

Bliss can be used up to three times per trial, but for each use without proper rest in between the ability becomes half as powerful.