[Evelyn Schwarz]

An ear twitched in annoyance. A bushy tail curled in distaste. Narrowed eyes glared at the ceiling, finding nothing particularly interesting about it. Yet, he hated it. No, he hated restless nights. His bed was uncomfortable (okay, that's a lie, but he just needed a reason to stay away from it most nights), the fire provided little solace, and, well... He couldn't sleep. He usually slept in front of the fireplace, curled up in a pile of pillows, yet he just couldn't find the willpower to keep his eyes closed. The prince pushed himself up, pulling his knees to his chest as he wrapped his arms around them. Yellow eyes turned their glare to the flickering flames that were slowly dying down. He had gotten into the habit of sleeping by the fireplace in his room during his childhood, having been terrified of the dark. He was also too stubborn to run over to his parents' room, and thus the collection of pillows had began. Yet, here he was, unable to sleep once more. The reasoning this time, however, was unknown to him. Perhaps he was still a little afraid of the dark? Who knows...

The fox let out a sigh, slowly pushing himself up. He brushed out the wrinkles in his nightgown, flicking his tail back and forth as he turned, stepping out of his pillow fortress. He took his sweet time heading towards the door, reaching out to grasp the knob. Opening the door, he slipped through and gently closed it behind him, not wanting to stir anyone nearby who was already asleep. Considering it was well past midnight, just about everyone should be in bed, minus the night guards. Evelyn quietly strolled down the dark hallway, playing with the hem of his overly long sleeves as a means of entertaining himself. He needed to find something to waste his time with. He might even head back to his room, change, and sneak out to the world outside the castle if it meant tiring himself out. That was only plan B, though.

ooc: that horrible starting post. i'll get a hang of his character eventually. x3

[Astral]

Jarmil would never willingly show an immature side in front of his children - he had to set an example of what it was to be royalty after all. This meant, however, that sometimes he would subconsciously let it out when no one was around. This was one of those times.

After deciding that he wasn't going to go to sleep anytime soon, he sneaked out of his marital bed (It had taken several attempts at leaving without waking up the Queen - even with his cat-like reflexes) and made a bee-line to the kitchen. He didn't bother masking his half-naked presence from the night guards as they had come to terms long ago of his semi-frequent midnight walks. Once inside, he grabbed a nice cold, alcoholic beverage, then decided to grab a couple more for reserves. As pitiful as he felt at not being able to do something as simple as sleeping, he would never drink till he was drunk; he had inherited a naturally high tolerance to alcohol and it was something of a legend among the guards that he was able to out-drink any of them. The extra bottles were for said guards should they happen upon him - a common, light-hearted bribery to not tell his wife of his midnight escapades.

Once stocked up, he made his way to the main living area, where the fireplace was the main point of focus in the room. It was a rather traditional room with intricate carvings along the wood and large paintings decorating the walls; it had been his father's favourite. There were two 3-seater sofas positioned perpendicular to the fireplace, facing each other in what was meant to be a good, family bonding approach. Not anymore. Jarmil pushed both the sofas backward till they were touching the opposite walls - not too worried about how much noise he was making all the way on this side of the building, leaving the space in front of the fire completely open. After lighting it, he grabbed the seat cushions and built himself a small barrier, separating him and the fire from the rest of the world (theoretically at least- the 'wall' was only 3 feet high).

The warm, orange glow enveloped the whole of the room, seeping into Jarmil's weary bones. He took his first mouthful of the cool liquid and the contrast was so refreshing that he quickly took another with a smirk. His free hand subconsciously found its way to his exposed scar, rubbing at the sensitive skin in circles. He was content to stay like this till an ear twitched with the recognition that he was no longer alone. Moving so he was sat with loosely crossed legs and leaning back onto the palms of his hands, he sighed. Not discontentedly, or annoyed, but in acceptance.

"There is no need to hang back. You can join me."

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OOC:: So I figured 2 days is long enough to give people the chance to join in before I took this spot ;D Time for some awkward father-son bonding yay! xD

[Evelyn Schwarz]

He reached out a pale hand, long fingers tracing the wall to his right as he walked down the hallway. His tail gently bobbed up and down with each step he took, brushing against the fabric of his nightgown and the skin of his legs. His eyes tried to make out where he was going, though he knew that he had little need for the light. He knew these halls like the back of his hand. So many years of running about them as a child, finding every nook and cranny and secret of the castle, allowed him to memorize where everything was. Or, at least, the general location. When he was younger and not even the fireplace would help him sleep, much like tonight, he would count the steps to various rooms from his own. It required intense concentration, and there were times when he would have broken down crying because he miscounted and lost his way in the dark. Looking back on it now, he was such a crybaby when he was younger. It was that fear of the dark and a multitude of other things that brought it forth. He couldn't take it at the time, but it became easier as he grew older.

The fox felt the tips of his fingers leave the wall and brush against the railing to the stairs. He followed it, allowing it to take him wherever it please. Finger tips shifted from the railing to another wall, adjusting its path whenever it met an obstacle, namely picture frames and side tables with vases and other breakable objects on them. He allowed his hand only to drop away from the wall whenever the soft glow of a guard's torch lit up part of the hallway. He strode on with his back straight and his head up, barely acknowledging them as they bowed their heads in greeting. He did spare a glance at the bottles some of them had, and he would have been curious had he not seen a glow coming from within one of the rooms.

Evelyn slowly made his way towards the glow, standing in the doorway as he allowed his eyes to momentarily readjust. The couches had been moved, and the cushions were barricading the area around the fireplace. The prince arched a light eyebrow, his ears perking when he heard a voice coming from the cushion wall. Father? He quietly made his way towards the cushions, peering over to see his father with a bottle, the same one the guards had. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Alcohol this late at night? I'm sure mother would love to hear about this."

[Astral]

Jarmil had not been expecting a family member to be awake, never mind wandering the halls of their home. Sure, they were free to come and go as they pleased, but as a father he would always internally worry if something ever went amiss. He turned his head to look to the silver-haired teen just to make sure he wasn't imagining things, or that the guards were playing tricks on him, and after he had given him a once over his eyes returned to the allure of the fire.

"I said you could join me, not patronize me..."

His voice was stern, but his face betrayed his amusement at having been told off by his eldest son. Had he come to this situation more than six years ago, he very much doubted he would've said a word against him. But look at him now... The smile on his face was warm with appreciation but a little sad with foreboding. One day, he will take his own place in the world and although he was proud to call him his son, he was not yet ready to let him go. He took a defiant swig out of his bottle, looking at the fox-man out of the corner of his eye as a weary child did in front of watchful parents. He sighed in content when the bottle left his lips before uncorking another and holding it out to Evelyn.

"I won't tell if you won't."

He flashed one of his rare toothy grins. It wasn't a bribe - his son was not to be treated like some paid guard. No, it was an offering of a truce. Evelyn was not up at this hour because he wanted to be - otherwise he would have avoided chancing upon someone if it was an attempt at sneaking out. And that meant he too was probably looking for some way to distract himself from whatever was bothering him. Jarmil scratched idly at the line of pink flesh across his chest with his free hand, waiting for his offer to be accepted or denied.