The Case Of The Duchamps

[babaMP3]

As the dull winds of autumn began to settle over Regalia, a stagnant chill cozied into every street, alleyway and cranny of the empire's capital. The people meandered about as they normally did -- children played, sailors drank, and merchants yelled their wares. However, the lovely everyday ongoings of Regalia shifted dramatically with a sudden wave of guards sweeping the streets. The citizens stared wide-eyed as the silent guards made their grand rounds -- the tavern, the Cathedral, the park, and for those who were nearby to see, the Duchamp manor. For a solid hour these apparent searches went on, and the day seemed halted over such a vigorous display. Eventually, the guards seceded, evidently fruitless. The day continued on as usual with an added air of vague mystery.


The next day a public proclamation from the Chancellor of Regalia was pinned to every official public board, from the tavern's bulletin board to the doors of the Cathedral. It read:

​

@Luthien @PizzaRoles @Shayin @Ryciera

 

[Ryciera]

Meanwhile, a young redhead rested comfortably in a grand bed in Yorrick, under what must have been the largest pile of blankets she'd been in in a long while. The sun glittered through the drapes and pulled across her face, and the girl turned over to avoid it, drawing the covers over her head.

Small birds settled comfortably on the branches outside, and as they maniacally twittered and chirped to one another, she finally pulled herself from the bed, meandering barefoot into a hallway where a servant greeted her. Moriarty Kade was somewhere in this castle, but that hardly mattered to the woman. The only thing on her mind now was how long it would be before she could escape this... bizarrely comforting prison.

Was it odd that she missed the poor district?

 

[Party_Penguin27]

Oh My

 

[Manatee_]

 

[AccursedRadiance]

((-claps his hands together gleefully because Jayden completely despises Luthein Duchamp-)) @Terence29

 

[Shayin]

Shayin nodded along, returning to the park. He knew that the Duchamps were a queer folk, definitely odd and strange in their own creepy manner. While he didn't like them, he realized that Jared probably knew what he was talking about when he told Shayin they were Upyrs, but that they had helped the state, rather than harm it. He resolved to stay put, and be a pain in the ass of Gustavo until further notice, also noting to get as much information as he could to assist his friend.

Meanwhile...

Gustavo slammed his fist on the table. "Still no sign of them?!" he barked at a Violet Guard standing nearby. Gustavo threw the delicate glass of wine across the room in rage, it crashing against the brick wall, spite huffing out of his lungs hurriedly. "I must find them. I knew they were incredibly shady... No doubt plotting against the family. Feh. I won't allow them to succeed, I /won't/," he repeated for what seemed the hundredth time, ordering the guard to continue searching, and to stop waiting around. He needed to find them and execute them. In the broad daylight, to make it even more glorious. Alejandro wished it to be done, and he knew it had to happen. He thought of the honor, the glory, the women, the glory and women, and the land Alejandro might graciously grant him upon doing so. Rubbing the side of his face, where many hairs had begun to grow into chops, Gustavo then thought, 'Ah, but the Duchamps have their own lands, don't they? Perhaps if I stick my foot within the door before they close and lock it... Hm. Si...'

 

[Luthien]

The room was small, dim and warm. Books piled the walls, furniture was stacked upon crates, and a drowsy candle, slumped in a bed of it's own wax, echoed the cluttered surroundings as haunting shadows upon the old stone walls

"I don't know what to do" came Luthien's voice from somewhere within the cluster of what had been the Duchamp's own belongings, once on display in the fine house upon the high pass street located in central Regalia, now salvaged and stowed away, deep in a place sure to remain undiscovered.

"We did not even..." she begun, fully believing what was about to be a comment of utmost hypocrisy, fully believing that the accusations set upon herself and her husband were entirely unjust, unfair discriminations.

For the dear Duchamps were so accustomed to their comfortable living and aristocratic lifestyle, that it was not even that they had forgotten that the blood in-took from the bodies of the living, was a crime in treason, was a concept that brought bile to the back of even the most strong-willed of throats. They had not forgotten it, they simply had little understood the notion to begin with.

Their lifestyle was such a customary thing- the throats they slit, the lives they took all so unbelievable casual- dangerously so, that it seemed they had forgotten the value that all invested in life, and the crime considered upon the action of taking which.

"I know" spoke Frank softly as he entered the over filled room, peering around a velvet sofa to find his wife sat in a slumped mess upon a pile of their bedding.

"I'm sure it will be..." he begun, initially comforting tone faltering as he realised he was in no position to predict the outcome of such a difficult situation. Luthien looked up to him, eyebrows raised as she awaited the end of his unfinished sentence.
"Something." he concluded as he nodded once, self disappointment apparent in his tone at the anti-climatic effort of reassurance.

"...something." responded Luthien with the smallest of laughs, despite herself. She wrapped her arms around Frank as he joined her on the floor amidst their items, amidst open books and a few empty bottles- crimson liquid lining their glass bottoms. "...Yes. That it will be, is something."

@PizzaRoles

 

[leafnosedbat]

Morei's one good eye scanned the flyer, disparate ideas reaching out to each other, connecting with tendrils of thought.

"Duchamp? Piper Duchamp... That elven... 'uman? Somethin' else? The goat one... damned drylanders... Anahera?... o' course..."

The fish-man's arm worked its way into his coat, producing a small notebook, it's pages coated in a thick layer of wax.

"Duchamp's wanted, Piper's involved, Few days ago at the Prison, The damned Anahera lad again," he scratched into the leaves with a splinter of driftwood, "Need to tell Beth."

 

[Verityg]

Rhine was a lot of things. Flimsy, childish, often reckless, greedy... however, throughout the thick and thin, she has always been stubborn.

She swiped the loose notice from the board, scowling as she reread the unbelievable words two times over. Locks of her ragged ginger hair fell over her eyes as she viciously flipped the creased paper, searching, hoping that it was a joke, a malicious prod by someone who had one too many quarrels with the Duchamps and decided it necessary to attempt and frighten them. Anxiously, Rhine glanced around herself, hoping no officials would take notice of her. She was fairly unknown, however most certainly not hidden. Not invisible. Not gone... yet.

With fury boiling within her, Rhine stormed toward Piper's settlement in Regalia only to find it, as the notice had suggested, locked and possessed by the state. She muttered curses underneath her breath, her fists clenching and unclenching. Again, she thoroughly scanned the note, her attention being grabbed by the last few lines. 'Servants and Members of the House are encouraged to turn themselves in to await trial.' Shaking her head, she ripped the paper into tiny shreds, allowing it's remains to fly upward in the light breeze. "Ain't goin' near tha' fuckin' place, ani't turnin' m'self in fer nothin', no way."

If there was one thing Rhine despised, loathed, it was trials. Trials that only led to people being judged and sent somewhere, led to death, prison, anything worthy. And with the crimes that the family had been accused of, Rhine was certain one of the two was awaiting her. While she particularly didn't include herself- and in fact, was disgusted by the thought- of such heresy, she felt somewhat guilty, and with the unborn child inside her, she grew incredibly protective.

Within an hour, she had gathered what she could to travel back toward Ellador. She notified only the closest to her before boarding the ship, hiding beside the wine kept below deck. Many thoughts traced through her mind as she bobbed along the sea, 'Where am I going to go? Home? What will I do with my child? Where is Luthien, Victoria?' However, one returned to her mind again and again and without a doubt, it concerned her the most.

"Th'Void is Pip?"

 

[Sight]

The Isldar stared off down the bay, not but a few weeks ago he had moved in with Jett and the Duchamps and was already enjoying the change in scenery. Word had reached him concerning the state of Luthien and Frank, and he wasn't happy to hear about it. Sight already knew that the Duchamps were extremely powerful Upyrs as he had seen their brutality first hand, he moved his hand up to his neck reminiscing for a brief moment. The Duchamp family had stuck its neck out for him and given him refuge, and it was time he repaid their favor in full. The Ice Elf brought his robe around his shoulders, fastening it as he headed down the docks towards the boat. He knew the one elf that could help him secure the Duchamps in a legal fashion, the question was would he help his rival?
@Shayin

 

[Suzzie]

[[Makes a sad face as she never got the chance to roleplay with @Luthien before she became a wanted criminal]]