[hiraeth + hound]

please only post here if you are reserving a spot for your form for kalons 1589 and 1590. no marks to find a partner, do that on the main thread! this is for those entering with their partners already chosen.

only one of you needs to post here! i would suggest it be the one whos coding if there is one

[Areater]

username 1: Areater
username 2: stoneleaf
what is their relationships to the masks?: wip -- thread form -- criminals on the run
extra 1: wip (probably playlist)
extra 2: wip (probably art)

[Aeryn]

username 1: Dolly
username 2: Aeryn;
what is their relationships to the masks?: wip
extra 1: (opt)
extra 2: (opt)

[moondust405]

username 1: moondust405
username 2: IlluminatiConfirmed
what is their relationships to the masks?: A tale of two worlds~
extra 1: (opt)
extra 2: (opt)

[Grey_Hoodie]

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Username
ethium

Trying For
Kalon 1589
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Username
Grey_Hoodie

Trying For
Kalon 1590
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxiiiiiiiii what is their relationship to their masks?
- - - [1000/1000 words]
Clumps of dust speckled the sunlit air seeping in through broken windows. The old wooden floor creaked
beneath new weight, long since having grown stiff from disuse. With their backs against the wall, breath
muffled beneath their palms, the runaway prince and his unexpected hostage had ducked further into
the shadows. A stampede of guards swarmed the cobbled square outside, the clacking of hoofs and the
clanking of metal drowned beneath their shouting.

During a quiet pause, the prince had tempted her with a chilling smile and a honey-coated promise. Give
me my freedom and I’ll grant you a life of riches. Stood in that decrepit storefront of hers, the temptation
of gold was all-consuming and, without a second thought, Amilie had nodded her agreement. The deal had
been set, and across the table beneath cerulean firelight, a deck of fated cards had been spread out by
pale fingers. Tendrils of magic clung to the prince’s arm as he laid before them a set of masks drenched in
an unbearably heavy aura – the contracts, she could only assume.

With a flick of the prince’s hand, mystical fire had spat out of his palm to bounce from card to card, an
invisible string convincing them to roll over unaided. Of the entire deck, only a few cards were left to
cast off a glowing white light. Like oil seeping into water, those with gaudy images and fanciful language
decorating what looked to be the history of either the prince or Amilie, creeped onto the table to soak
into the masks, adorning them in sickeningly beautiful colors for but a moment before they were
restored to how they’d appeared before. A test revealed a prince appearing as a pauper and a pauper
appearing as a prince.

The prince had fled from the shop an instant after the spell had completed, a grin plastered over his
face. Amilie was left stunned, glancing down at her hands to see them adorned in rings and cuffed by
fanciful sleeves. She’d never seen herself in such sleek clothing and her heart jumped in elation.
Skipping out the door, she was greeted by a crew of worried guards, eager to grasp her elbow and escort
her back to the castle. Unlike his usual behavior, this prince happily returned without a single protest.

Life was easy and enjoyable as the former prince had never been one for handling responsibilities and
only indulged himself. Amilie had been spoiled with riches and innumerable pleasures, but inescapable
guilt was biting at her heart, begging her to return home to her bankrupt father and widowed sister so
that she could once more be their support. How shallow of her to have stolen away one evening into a
happier life completely void of the family she’d loved. She needed to go back to them. She’d find the
prince and set things right.

- - -

The masks had burned their way into their flesh, threatening cuts and tears to their skin if either the
prince or the pauper tried to remove them. Trapped within the walls of a burning shop and bordered on
all sides by pillars of curling black smoke, Meridian had once more shuffled his cards and spun his magic
in a pitiful attempt to disperse the original casting. Who could have guessed that an amateur at magic
had all the capabilities to form a curse out of a spell? Drenched in crimson light, the pauper gave a
horrified cry as the stonework crumbled around them, ashen supports scattering across the ground.
Again, Meridian’s efforts had been interrupted.

A stranger burst through the flames, rage clouding his eyes and dripping torches hanging from his palms.
Before he could sound the alarm and call to him the remnants of his mob, Meridian skidded out into the
streets, dodging the desperate hands of miserable victims trying to pull themselves out from beneath
the burning rubble. He hadn’t been careful enough, neither in casting the spell nor in hiding the act.
Whoever had caught them spilt out traces of their misdeeds at a tavern’s table, spurning on rumors of a
mad prince and a scheming witch, sparking a vicious manhunt that had spilt innocent blood onto the
streets.

Getting trapped in the body of the pauper hadn’t originally been a problem for Meridian, as he’d had no
intentions from the start of giving it back – but now this body had a stack of bounties placed on it and
vicious vigilantes seeking to follow through to right the wrongs he’d committed. No matter where he ran,
the former prince couldn’t escape his faults.

Meridian could feel the pulse of archaic magic within the mask and could feel it twitch in time to his
heartbeat and slosh around his body, a steady and constant reminder that this twist in fate was entirely
his fault and completely up to him to solve before his life and his kingdom fell to ruin. Every day, the
magic’s weight inside him grew heavier and a poisonous burn ate away at his limbs, the magic attempting
to reconstruct his former appearance; it set a grim deadline for when his altered life would be utterly
irreversible.

Meridian’s feet slipped across soaking wet stones, sending him skidding out one of the gates onto the dirt
roads. The chaos of a growing crowd echoed out from behind him. The flames scattered out above the
walls of the capital, embers riding atop the back of the wind. Scrambling away from thrashing arms, the
prince gritted his teeth and forced himself back up onto his feet, tripping over the bumps in the road as
he fled. With every step, the magic within him weaved together tighter and tighter until his heart and
lungs threatened to collapse. With every mile added to his desperate wandering, Meridian pulled the
strings of fate taut, tempting it to rewrite itself and seal him off from all hope he might have had of
returning everything to what it had once been.


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credits
tarot cards | King-Lulu-Deer

prompt fill idea | ethium
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credits
writing | joint effort, hard to pinpoint

extra art | Grey_Hoodie
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[~Levi~]

username 1: (user for 1589) kolyakun
username 2: (user for 1590) Levi
what is their relationships to the masks?: WiP
extra 1: (opt)
extra 2: (opt)

Res

[Foxglove.]

username 1: Safe_Haven
username 2: RussiannLucifer
what is their relationships to the masks?: W.I.P <3
extra 1: (opt)
extra 2: (opt)

[Mimu]

username 1: Mimu
username 2: Ediluna.
what is their relationships to the masks?: AHSDF3R4TRYHJUIO
extra 1: (opt)
extra 2: (opt)

[ufoparty]

username 1: rantipole
username 2: lol
what is their relationships to the masks?: w.i.p!
extra 1: art!
extra 2: playlist prob.

[Cyrano]

Deleting to be used elsewhere thank you for the HM!