forum In Honey and Venom | oxo | open

Started March 20, 2023 by @knightinadream group

tune

To my Alexander,
Forgive me for we may never be together. I was ordered back to Russia and I am unsure if I will be able to return to you. Love is rich with both honey and venom. If there is one thing that I can wish for, it's to be with you in another lifetime. To see you again would make me a happier man.
~ Your Rodya

The Montague family ruled the British Empire for nearly three hundred and twenty years. Of all the kings and queens, only one figure comes to everyone's mind: King Alexander. Without him, the country, if not the whole world, would have collapsed in on itself. He brought the world into an era of prosperity. Culture had thrived. People were suffering less and less each day. He removed corruption out of the court by getting rid of the treacherous Barclay family.

Many see him as an icon, but up until 1993, they didn't know the truth about this icon. Unbeknownst to everyone, he was bisexual. In his villa (now museum), there is a portrait of a handsome unknown man with sharp features, emerald eyes, and golden hair. For years, no one knew the man's identity. It was assumed that King Alexander had the portrait because he liked it. When a secret compartment in the floor reveals letters and journals, the world learns of the Russian aristocrat: Rodion "Rodya" Konstantinov, the unknown man in the portrait and King Alexander's lover.

Rodya was the son of the ambassador of the Tsardom of Russia to England. He had many well known novels published under a penname for reasons also unknown. Why was his identity a mystery for hundreds of years? Who knows? You, as a college student studying history, wants to know. You have been to the king's villa at least ten times this past term and you have checked out all of Konstantinov's novels under his penname "Adrian Zima." You hope that someday you can write a book of your own about King Alexander and Konstantinov's relationship. You want to live and breathe in their time. You wish to be in one of their perspectives to know.

But be careful for what you wish for…

After studying all night for an exam, you wake up in a place that isn't your dorm. Everything is quiet. You are wearing extravagant robes. A servant walks into the room calling you, "Your Majesty." Somehow, you have woken up in the body of King Alexander himself. The year is 1640, and His Majesty (or you) have only been king for three years. The court is split between the Montague and Barclay family. Nothing ever gets done. Those who do support you and the royal family are already worried about the lack of heirs. And it seems like Queen Estelle, the king's (your) wife, is siding with the Barclays. On top of all of that, you have no idea what you are doing.

So in a panic, you run put and find yourself in the gardens. That's where you find him, standing on the path gazing down at some of the flowers. Rodya looks more handsome in person; he looks a lot like a peer in one of your classes. You have the gut feeling to go talk to him. What happens from there? Well, the rest is history…

Notes: This is an alternative history rp so details do not have to be 100% accurate. We will get to be creative with it! To summarize this rp: it's about a modern day college student who wakes up in the body of King Alexander in 1640. Everything is chaotic at the time, but this is when the king (or the college student) first meets his historically known lover, Rodya. If you do have any questions, let me know!

Rules

• As stated before, this is an alt history rp. Keep in mind there will be topics about homophobia, mental health, and so on. (This is mxm.)
• Detailed responses that are at least a paragraph.
• Try to respond as soon as you can. There will be times where I am busy, but I will do my best to respond ASAP.
• No smut, if it gets to that point, we will just skip over it. References to it are fine.
• andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s rules
• Templates will be posted when someone joins. We can discuss characters and so on so forth.
• Sorry for all the reading. I think that's it for now. If you have any questions or ideas, please let me know! :D

Cyris had ran again. It was his 283rd escape in the nine years he had been 'hired' by Silo, Master Silo, as he liked to be called. It hadn't taken long for Cyris to figure out that, though he was well fed, well clothed and sheltered comfortably, he was a slave for Silo. He was fourteen when his adoptive father, Captain Fioln had sent him to work for the bastard.

Instead of getting paid money, he was told the privilege to live there was enough. Cyris instantly disliked Silo, and on purposely never looked at him. Until he was 15. Shortly after his fifteenth birthday, Cyris had made a run for it. Only to be caught, dragged back and whipped 10 times. Each time after that, the lashings increased by 10. So on his tenth escape, he received 100 lashings.

He knew he was an idiot, to still be making a run for it, especially with the 500 lashings he would get. He wondered why they stopped adding lashings at 500, and after a while, realized they didn't want to beat him to death. Their mistake. If they wanted him to stop running, they'd have to kill him.

He lived in the capital somewhere, his adoptive father told him, in what was once called Nevada. He was on the run towards north-west California, and he was just outside a small town. He wondered if he should go in, or go around it, as he knew the pursuers were hot on his tail. He shifts, pulling his hood up over his head and sighs, his hand resting at the gun on his hip, and behind it, the beautiful knife Fioln had sent him for his 16th birthday.

He's go in, he needed food anyways, and he could probably hide amoungst the other people. He jumped off the rock he was sitting on, his boots thumping onto the ground and walked into town, keeping the hood over his head.

Looking around, he saw a bakery and smiled slightly, wondering is the bread was any good. He walks inside, his steps silent. He found out that walking and making sound was difficult, and he prefer to be silent anyways. He looks around, making sure to keep his flat red hair hidden.

He was told his hair was the only thing keeping him alive, as well as his amber eyes. The perfect look for someone within the Scarlet Broches, but he wasn't 'perfect' enough to be his own person. With his pale skin not taking in the sun and he was too short for a male. He never understood that one, why the males had to be at least 6ft by maturity.

He walks up to the counter, silent and waits.

(This was a starter to a differently RP, as all the details. My normal post would be 2-5 paragraphs if given enough details, depending on Inspo. If you need on of my more normal ones, I can provide that as well (This was just the easiest to get to))

(Some of those things are up to you. He is the son of the Tsardom of Russia's ambassador to England. Rodya is a writer even though his father wants him to follow into his steps and marry a noble English woman. He can be bisexual, omnisexual, pansexual, or gay, whatever you think is best. Maybe he likes to party or fence. Personality wise, I'd say something along the lines of down to earth. Just as long as he matches with Alexander, it's all good. Here's the template too!)

Name:
Title:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Appearance:
Personality:
Background:
Other:

Name: Alexander Horatio Montague (Basil Solomon: the college student)
Title: King Alexander I of England, Scotland, and Ireland
Age: 21
Gender: Male (He/him)
Sexuality: Closeted bisexual
Appearance: For the record, Alexander and Basil look pretty much the same. Alexander stands at six foot three with a rectangular mesomorphic frame. He has medium brown hair that is wavy. It goes down to his shoulders and is usually up in a ponytail. His skin is warm ivory; there are a few marks on his body. One is on his left arm below his wrist. He typically wears the same clothes as any other noble of the time would, but he typically wears red clothing.
Personality: History remembers Alexander as bring wise, compassionate, curious, and bold. In the beginning of his rule (start of rp), he was all of things but he was something else. Alexander knows his worth and considers himself to be a force to be reckoned with, but he is a rather cautious quiet person. He's a rather gentle person actually. A caregiver with a compassionate heart, he is always looking after others or taking on their worries. Yes he is quite the ball of sunshine. His laugh can light up the whole room. He's the kind of person who will gladly stop everything in his tracks to help or cheer up. (Basil is all of those things too, especially when it comes to bring quiet and reserved.)
Background: Alexander was the only living son of King Henry IX and Queen Milena. He does have two sisters: Princess Margot and Princess Isabella. Up until he became king at 18, there is not much known aside from him traveling to France and courting with his then fiancée Estelle. There's also the fact that he had a close friend named James. They secretly would meet each other till Alexander married Estelle and James was sent to Spain. They never crossed paths again, but the soon to be king spent those few years wishing they would meet again. A month later, Alexander became king after his father passed away from heart complications. With taking the throne came on taking the millions of issues plaguing England and the rest of the kingdom. The court is divided into two: some support him and the Montague family while other support Lord William Barclay and his family. Everyone is suffering while nothing is getting done. Alexander has spent so many nights alone, mulling over what to do.
Other: Alexander was into reading, writing, fencing, long walks in the early morning and late at night, and dancing. He often spent time in his library after supper with books from around the world. Every month or so, he would have tea time or supper with all the ambassadors. Sometimes he even snuck out of the palace and venture around London.

(Mk, thx, also, are there any notable things that should be in his history?)

Name: Rodion "Rodya" Konstantinov
Title: Lord Konstantinov
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Gay
Appearance-
Eyes) A bright, emerald green that shine when he’s happy, but seem to become darker, more of a jade color when he’s angry.
Hair) Golden blond, with hints of gold and light brown.
Skin)
Height) 5’11”
Weight)
Body Type)
Personality: Rodya is an overall cheerful person on the outside, but on the inside he’s calculating and always paying attention. He never says anything he doesn’t mean to say and always takes his time with his words. When doing this, Rodya can be silent for minuets at a time, just thinking of the best way to say something. When having a conversation with him, it’s ideal to have lots of patience because when rushed, Rodya will just take longer on purpose. He’ll even put this way of thinking into his writing.
Back to his outside portrayal, he’s usually never without his disarming and charming smile and he’s quick with a laugh. Those who really know him know the difference between his real smile and laugh versus his courtiers smile and laugh. When he’s really happy and smiling, he has a dimple in his left cheek, and his laugh is bright. With his courtiers smile, there are no dimples and his laugh is slightly lower, not as bright.
Rodya is pretty easy going, and will take an insult in stride, flashing a smile and laughing. Depending on how bad the insult is though, his eyes may darken with anger, but many people don’t think the darkening of his eyes is from anger, as he never portrays anger. If the insult is really bad, he’ll usually come up with some clever way to embarrass the person in front of everyone.
When he’s with the people he cares about, Rodya is completely different, not so quick with a laugh or smile, as his real ones are far and few between. Instead of thinking of the right thing to say to please the person in front of him, or get information out of them, he’ll usually tell the truth and tell them of his worries, knowing that sharing these things are enter than trying to deal with them alone.
Rodya has interesting humor, sometimes preferring a darker humor, or ever ‘dad’ humor, with stupid and cheesy jokes. He can find a funny side to almost anything, and enjoys seeing people laugh (Well, the people he thinks should be happy).
Likes:
-Writing; Rodya has always loved writing from a young age, and in general, telling stories.
-Debating; Rodya loves to have a good debate, whether he’s right or wrong, Rodya will have a good hearted debate with anyone, but once it turns into an argument, the young man will usually back out of it. He’ll also admit the loss of the debate if his point is proven wrong.
-Parties; Music and dancing are two of favorite things to do, below writing.
Dislikes:
-Arguments; A debate is fine, an argument is not. Arguments can lead to bad things. All it takes is pissing off the wrong person and you could be in a fight for your life. Rodya has no plans to end his life early.
-Repetitiveness; If people, stories or anything repeated itself more than 3 times, it will start to annoy Rodya to his last nerves, and he may just get up and walk away from whatever is doing the repeating.
-Bossiness; There is a difference in telling someone what to do when you need someone to do something and just telling someone to do something because you can and/or want to.
Hobbies:
-Writing; Despite his father’s wishes for Rodya to marry and English woman, Rodya has no plans to do so, preferring to spend most of his time writing.
-Debating; He enjoys this enough to make it a hobby, and sometimes he’ll deliberately go out looking for one.
-Fencing; He’s not the best at it, but he can do it and he usually just does it for fun.
Conditions-
Mental) N/A
Physical) He has a long scar on his left side from an accident as a boy. He fell out of a tree and a branch tore his side, he barely lived through the experience. He also broke his arm.
Background: Rodya is one of two legitimate children of Duke Konstantinov and his wife. Though Rodya has a few younger siblings that no one mentions. He grew up with a pretty easy life with few accidents.
His most notable accident was when he was six. He was attempting to climb a tree to impress his father. He reached a somewhat high branch, well, high for six year old him, about ten feet up. After he sat on his desired branch, it bowed beneath him. Not thinking anything of it, the young boy laughed, moving a little closer to the truck of the tree, not listening to the nanny trying to get him down. After Rodya got settled agin, the branch stilled for a few moments, then broke, right under the little boy. Rodya had let out a shrill scream and gripped onto the part of the branch still attached to the tree. As the little boy fell, the jagged pieces of wood from the broken limb torn into his side, nearly piercing his ribs in the process. At the pain, Rodya’s grip on the tree slipped and he fell, landing on his arm and breaking it.
The wound almost brought Rodya to an early grave, but the young boy lived through it and has a jagged scar from his left hip up to the top of his ribs. This incident did not at all impress his father, and he got a strong tongue lashing from his mother after he was coherent enough to understand what his mother was saying. He hasn’t climbed a tree since then.
From a very young age, Rodya can remember asking his nanny to tell him stories. Anything from wild tales about hero’s and dragons to plain old stories about her life and experiences. Stores are one of his greatest loves in life, telling them, reading them and herding them. When he was ten, he asked his father to get a better literature teacher, someone who could push him in reading and writing. Teach him more complex things. His father had agreed, decided that if it was what the boy wanted why not give it to him?
When Rodya was 15, his mother got sick with pneumonia And died a few days later. The young man was struck with a deep saddens, and he missed the cheery sounds of her laughter filling the halls of his home. It was this time Rodya wrote his first book, one about a young boy who goes on an adventure to save his ailing mother.
Up until he was 16, Rodya was able to read and write almost freely, but still hid these works from hid father, knowing the Duke would be disappointed in his son and heir to his title. Once he turned sixteen, the Duke would start bring his son with him on trips to the English court, introducing Rodya to the laides. Rodya quickly learned that though the women were pretty, some even beautiful, he found none of them attractive. Instead, he noticed more of the young lordlings his age, and preferred to spend his time with them. He quickly found out that he was attracted to the young men and kept this to himself, trying to force himself to pay more attention to the women his father introduced him to, thinking something was wrong with him.
It wasn’t until he was 19 that he had his first lover, and not a noble either, a young English stable hand named Quinn. Rodya wouldn’t say he was in love with the man, but was close enough to it when the stable hand seemed to just understand the pressure Rodya was under. The relationship did not last longer than a year, perhaps ten to eleven months, when the young man broke the relationship, saying he did not want to be unfaithful to his feature wife. At first, Rodya was hurt, but the wound lessened when he learned that the marriage was arranged, needed for both family’s benefits.
After that, Rodya went back to Russia, spending about two years there with his sister and her husband before his father was needed in England again and he took Rodya with him, hoping that this time, when Rodya returned home, he’d be bringing a wife with him.
Other:

What the fuck is happening? Basil has no idea what is going on. Everything around him looks like it came out of some Oscar-winning movie or a documentary. It's all 17th century-esque things. His hand touched the fine cotton garments he was wearing. His hair is much longer than it was when he went to sleep. Did he take something before passing out?

The air felt warm. The walls were starting to close in on him. Stumbling out of bed, he almost tripped over the blankets and his robes. His robes. No no no. These crimson velvet robes are not his. He dashed over to the mirror. It looked foggy but it had a golden frame. Aside from the state of the glass, he looks pretty much like himself aside from the longer hair. This made his heart settle for a while. It still thumped with uncertainty.

"Your Majesty? Is everything alright?" He heard a voice faintly ask him. Basil turned his head to gaze over at the servant who was holding extravagant 17th century mens clothes. He pinched the side of his hand, and jumped. The servant stood there confusingly, "Are you alright, Your Majesty?"

In a matter of moments, Basil was out of the room, down the hallway, and somehow ended up in the gardens. Sure the servant was running after him, but that wasn't his concern. If anyone were to ask him what is going on or how he ended up here, he would sit on the floor and shake his head. If only he knew. If only….

Your Majesty….Is he really a king? No no no. Is he King Alexander? What is going on? His heart was running all over the place. Admist the sounds of birds chirping and wind rustling trees, he could hear himself trying to catch his breath. The cool morning air pressed against his cheeks. A huge sigh escaped from him yet he paused right after.

A man stood far down the path. His blond hair illuminated underneath the sunlight. Basil squinted his eyes to find that the man was standing in front of some bushes of flowers. He knew there is a reason why this person is so familiar to him, but with his mind trying to grapple a million things, he was not sure why.

Rodya was staring at the bushes in front of him, ignoring the slight chilled breeze blowing through the gardens. Moreover, he was staring at the flowers on the bushes. He had gotten up and decided to go on an early morning walk, which was nice because it meant he got to avoid the other people. He couldn’t really people today.

He wondered what was going to happen today, and how long he could go without dealing with people. Probably not very long. Not if his father was intent on Rodya marring some lady from the kin’s court. Rodya had no inclination to do so, he would rather write, or party. He enjoyed the life of a bachelor.

He supposed later he could seclude himself into his room after he’d been seen by a sufecent amount of people ne spend the time writing. Though, again, in this scenario, his father could interrupt and make him spend time with some other poor English woman. He really just wanted to be alone today, that would be better.

He jumps slightly at a commotion somewhere behind him and he turns slightly, tearing his attention away from the flowers in front of him. He blinks when he sees the king himself appear. Then confusion washes over him, the king in his robes. He bows slightly, “Your Majesty. Is everything alright?”

A fire is blazing in his mind right now. There's a good chance he will fall thanks to his legs shaking like crazy. So many unanswered questions are swirling around him and he is uncertain if any of them will ever be answered. At least being in the gardens with fresh air is keeping him from tipping over the edge; that is if he hasn't already.

There is a good chance that he has. His feet are frozen to the ground. Not to mention the fact that he is staring at a handsome yet strangely familiar man. The closer the fine gentleman got, the more Basil wanted to run away. He couldn't. The best he could do was turn his head, praying that he would wake up from this crazy dream.

In the corner of his eye, he watched the gentleman bow. The man's voice left him covered in goosebumps. It left him in shivers. His pupils darted over, staring directly at this person before him. They glistened with realization.

"Rody-" Basil covered his mouth while clearing his throat. "Konstantinov…" Glancing down at his robes, he chuckled at himself while shaking his head. Somehow he is King Alexander I and is currently talking to the Rodion Konstantinov, how would everything be alright? He scratched the back of his neck while trying to come up with something to say. "Frankly, Lord Konstantinov…I believe everything is alright when you see the king walking in his robes like…a madman. Nothing like fresh air to reinforce such a statement….wouldn't you agree?"

Rodya watches the king stumble about his own feet, suppressing a smile. The king seemed to be slightly out of it, and he had a servent following on her heels. Rodya takes a moment to look King Alexander I over, red dressing robes, one’s he probably wore to bed if the wrinkles were anything, bare foot and messy, uncombed hair.

Rodya blinks, clearing his throat, taking his time with his words before replying to such a. . . Strange, statement from the king, “Well, your majesty, it’s not often one see’s a king in his dressing robes, stumbling about as if he’s not right in his own head.” He chuckles, “If, you don’t mind my wording.”

Rodya was being honest, the king did not look quite right in the head at the moment, and his statement was not quite like the king’s usual statements. His mind catches on the three times the king said his name, the first way was defiantly not a way he had told the king, “How do you know that name your majesty?” He asks, tilting his head slightly, his green eyes lightening slightly.

With a gentle throwing back his head, he laughed. Not in the way a king should be laughing at all. Just plain old regular Basil laughing his ass off for no good reason. The moment of realization that he is also King Alexander is what made him abruptly stop. He shook his head, "Oh, I do not mind at all, my good sir…When in Rome, I suppose."

"Pardon?" He whispered underneath his breath. To be honest, Basil kept calling this infamous writer "Rodya" while writing countless of papers on him or reading his published works; even while talking to professors, he called him "Rodya." He loved the way it rolls off his tongue. It reminds him of all the letters Alexander and Rodya would send each other. All the yearning and endearment radiating from their words. Now here he is, seeing the one that King Alexander I had called "my Rodya" and he doesn't know what to say. How can he explain himself?

In an attempt to seem less frazzled, he deeply exhaled. A smile swept across his face. "What name are you asking about, my lord? Lord Konstantinov or Rodya?" He asked. Looking over his shoulder, he motioned for the servant to leave them alone. "I know your name is Rodion, of course, but I have learned that sometimes you use 'Rodya' as a…nickname of sorts…Just a spontaneous guess…that's all."

Rodya looks at the king, a puzzled look on his face. Who was this man? He did not act like the king, nor did he speak like the king. He smiles slightly, "Ahh, yes. But it is the fact that you are walking around in this cold weather in clothes you are meant to wear while wrapped up in layers of heavy blankets, your majesty. You will catch a cold standing out here like that."

Rodya laughs softly, "I haven't told anyone at your court about the nickname, nor does my father use it. Only my sister, and she is still in Russia." He tilts his head, "So, I ask again, your magesty, how do you know of the nickname?"

Rodya wasn't a suspicious person, but he didn't like that the king had used such a familiar name with him, even if the man had corrected himself. And it was also the fact that no one in the English court should know of the nickname.

He was given the nickname by his late mother, who had dearly loved him and his sister up until her death seven years ago. She had always called him her 'little, dear Rodya', and after her death, his little sister started to shorten it to just Rodya. Few people knew about this, but a few close friends d's at home would use the name as well.

"Rest assured, Konstantinov, I will be fine." Although, Rodya probably is right. Basil doesn't want to get a cold while losing his mind in 1640 England. Nevertheless, there are bigger concerns he must deal with. Such as how he will be able to deal with the mistake of calling this gentleman by an intimate nickname.

He could claim being hungover, especially since it sounds more dignified than saying he has had a few drinks already. Basil (Alexander) already looks like a complete bloke for standing out here like this. What if others are seeing him in this absurd state? If Alexander's wife sees, who knows what will happen?

No one is going to believe him if he tells the truth. Worse thing is they will remove Alexander from the throne and Basil has no idea if what is doing will change the course of history. If this does, then that makes him a thousand times more terrified. He doesn't even know what the twenty-one year old king would say in this situation.

"My father was close with the former ambassador… Vladimir Markov was it? I believe he has a son with the same name as you, but preferred to be called Rodya…Or maybe I was given permission to call him so, I do not recall anymore for it has been years since I have seen Rodya Markov," He replied. "Although, if my memory serves me right, he is an amazing man. He helped me find your father to fill the position as ambassador. He told me your family is the best Russia has to offer."

Rodya raises an eyebriw, "Your majesty, you should go inside." He walks towards the king, "It would not be wise to catch a cold." Rodya smiles slightly, but it wasn't his real smile, just the one he used with everyone but his sister.

Rodya's face remained inpasive, not showing a flicker of emotion, "Well, your majesty, I do not see how you could mix the two of us. He is of a darker complexion. Darker hair and eyes." He tilts his head slightly, "And my name is not a common one, so I must say, and forgive me if it's wrong to say, that I don't not quite believe you, King Alexander."

It was the first time Rodya had even uttered the king’s name while the man was in the same room as him, and he supposed it sounded rather nice. But it was a long name, and long names were mouthfulls. Rodya keeps the smile on his face, hopping he hadn't upset the king with his candid response.

The more he talked, the more he worried everyone is going to think King Alexander is insane. Seeing the look on Rodya's face only confirmed his thinking. Basil could be losing it, but for now, he is also King Alexander. What a difficult concept to grasp, but it is one of many. He wondered if half of what he said is anything the true king would have said himself.

He shook his head. A faint shade of pink cascaded over his face. Basil gazed over his left shoulder for a moment. "You are perfectly fine, Lord Konstantinov," He assured with a smile. "I must say, one can never get confused between you and Markov. Your golden hair must have been woven by God. You shine underneath the sunlight."

Basil noticed the servant was still there. In fact, she made a few steps closer to him, but stopped only a few feet away. He sighed. Guess it would be best to go inside and get properly dressed. They are in a time period where colds and fevers are lethal after all. "Well, Konstantinov, I suppose I must go. My deepest apologies for this…" He gestured to himself then continued on, "Although, would you like to have tea together sometime this week? I know I have spoken to your father a fee times since you all have arrived, yet I haven't had much opportunity to talk to you. I will have someone send a letter, letting you know when I am available….That is, if you would like to, of course."