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Le Début


DahStalker
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                               The Emperor was dead. 

 

        Those simple printed words upon the parchment stung as verdant eyes took in the contents, reading them as she’d traverse along the roadside, lips thinned. From her youthful age of fourteen the girl had been serving said Emperor, beginning as a simple tavern-performer, soon joining the Secretary of Interior. Yet, the Emperor was dead. As the woman strode along the muddied roads with her ginger locks bound via twine she’d inhale, chest heaving outwards, ache consuming her. She had been Mariana Dubois, a joyous woman of avergnant origins, kind to all and a mystery at best. Her parties were envied, mechanics sought after, and status known as socialite. She was a pebble lost in the mud and she polished herself as a gem. 

 

     She had been through her own sorrows and guilt through life, enduring them to better herself and those around her, pushing on. She watched as her mother and father were slaughtered upon a ragged and broken structure of their own home, a citadel swelled with abnormal waters, and left for dead. Gripping to her roof with tremendous ache in her fingers  a woman of ivory locks and emerald gaze had rescued her. She grew with gratitude and awe while her faux-siblings grew with resentment toward this elfess. She became educated, selfish, and selfless all the while. Unpredictable at best. 

 

      She forced herself to mature to strive for the best, to care for both herself and others, keeping on. She grew alongside Carringtons as her mother’s sister as a sacrifice so her adoptive guardian might take advantage of the brief joy she had cherished. She found her way to Kaedrin, attempting to bring it from rubble, which she did. Perhaps it was a town absent of too much activity and prosperity akin to its neighbors; yet it was hers. It was a place she picked to live and nurture from. 

 

    Out of both tactic and care she adopted youth galore to claim as her own, to bring up in a life which she had not, to bring joy. Nathanael, Lavinia, Nenica, Adrienne, Vivian, and George. She felt normalcy of a family; spoiling them, caring for them, loving them. Yet, with age and truth they grew with resentment and hatred. She did not blame them. She did not deserve them. She watched as Nathanael used profit to travel the world as he so desired, Lavinia found love, Nenica found herself, Adrienne became a socialite, Vivian brought joy, and George was her. Akin to her he was once a depraved urchin upon the roads, slowly prying that rock from the mud, and polishing it on his own. 

  

     She had found love herself, marrying in secrecy, to a man with ginger locks so similar to her own. She had found friendship - genuine and false - though meaningful all the same. What she was came from age. What she did came from knowledge. What she would be came from wisdom. Yet, as she’d crumble the paper in her fist, eyes wrought with tears she was ignorant to the shouting nearby. The stampede of hooves accompanied by the harsh whip of reigns were far too swift as the wide-eyed woman pivoted to see the glaring flames of oil lamps and flying specks of mud. What became of the woman was unknown for she was not heard of again.  She was gone in a blink. Her mind processing those she loved: Caestella, Ka’lani, Ivoriel, Nathanael, Lavinia, Nenica, Adrienne, Vivian, and George, Godric, Griffith, Oisin, Padraig, Elke, Remi, Jonah, Mary Lucille, Mary Jane, Mary Vespira, Korina, Natalya, Winifred, Cecilia, Edgar, and Katherine. 

                                 

                             The Emperor was dead. Long live the Empress.

 

Spoiler

I just wanted to thank everyone to who helped me through roleplaying through the past couple of months on this character. It was truly an enjoyable experience and meant a lot to me. You guys all rock.

 

        Days passed on by...

Eventually the news of the apparent passing of Vaeri also known as Mariana Dubois would make itself known via ushered rumors of an abandoned corpse left by a riverbank, it garbed with a flamboyant dress of reds, white, and gold. A ring belonging to the Dubois Family would be found upon her finger and eventually mailed to the young George Dubois for safe-keeping and to carry on within the family. 

Edited by DahStalker
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After some days, news of the once-Mariana Dubois’ death reaches James II’s court. His eyes stray to a gold and emerald ring on his right ring finger, a gift she had given him before she set out on her travels. He dismisses the Curia, spending the rest of the day disconsolate.

 

The next evening, he lights a candle on his windowsill, a tradition he keeps each night until his death.

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Silence overtook the room as her hand lowered from her ginger locks- her reflection in the mirror before her peering in turn, meeting Nenica’s olive eyes as she looked up. Her usual rich-colored attire had been swiftly replaced with a ebony-black gown, having taken up such dressings shortly after being relayed the news of Vaeri’s passing. Yes, she’d come to hate Vaeri over the years, their fervent bickering only furthering such- but in the moment she’d come to long for the embrace of her “auntie”, her mother: Mariana Dubois. She’d recall all the times she’d hide behind the woman’s skirt from Lavinia’s tease, the times she’d sit in wonder at the dinner-table or parties at the sight of her wine-ridden auntie, or perhaps even the fuzzy memory of her being plucked from the orphanage by Mariana. She’d think of her disownment, her mother-less wedding, and now her children’s lives, who were no longer able to recognize this deceased woman as ‘grand-mama’. Her reflection would sadden at the recollection of these old events and realizations, maybe even some tears upon her cheek that she would never admit to. And thus she’d adorn skirts of ink, her ashen facade covered by a simple raven-hued lace- not for the passing of Vaeri, but for the final passing of her mother: Mariana Dubois. 

Edited by extinct_00
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As Natalya Eliza face reappeared within the city of Helena she looked for the familiar face of her old friend, Mariana. The woman went around asking others and attempting to seek her old friend out, though, no answers were given. Soon enough, Natalya heard the whispered rumors of the woman’s fate, Natalya would soon realize how different everything was now that she was back.

Edited by Branchio
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Oisin O’Rourke withdraws himself to his private chambers. Feeling rather lonely in his large bed as he slept awkwardly on one side.

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4 minutes ago, Areon said:

Oisin O’Rourke withdraws himself to his private chambers. Feeling rather lonely in his large bed as he slept awkwardly on one side.

Mariana Dubois was in fact obese and filled in most of the bed.

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Briala A. Sirame regrets never properly meeting nor speaking to her adoptive sister. She’d take a few moments of silence for the loss of her sort-of lari’onn.

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In one of her usual bouts of impulsive journeys, a scholarly elfess had grasped onto the rumored passing of an old friend. There, Eveth perched herself on a ledge, overlooking the soft rippling sea of her home. Within her grasp was an aged present she kept from the woman—a stuffed toy taking the likeness of a feathery owl. A pained look set upon her countenance as she stared at it for a long while before panning back onto the water. A prayer was cooed, drawing a circle over her heart thereafter;
 

“O' Haelun, y'kae oerneh suliera.

ito suliera, iyul nae'leh illern'taynan ethere,

Iyul divhiuw ito lae'leh/hae'leh taliiynan, divcerun'ehya ito hae'leh/lae'leh hiylun.

Oerneh nae ito hileia lae/hae myumiera, ciwn'ehya uell.     

 

O' Maln, y'kae oerneh suliera.

ito suliera iyul nae'leh illern'orran ethere,

Iyul leyun ito lae'leh/hae'leh iheiuhii, lae'leh/hae'leh ehya taliiynan feta lentera.

Oerneh nae ito Sirame lae/hae myumiera, cerun'ehya uell.   

 

nae iyl'hiylun, tenna eth, myumierala karinte,

lae'ehya/hae'ehya Meracahe narna.

taliyna ito nor, taliiyna ito vallei, tur ito malomii.

Ahernal ito.”

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George sat in his lonesome, moiling away at an insurmountable amount of papers stacked upon his desk. Then suddenly a rapping of his door was heard, reverberating throughout his entire household. With the hopes of not being confronted by more work, the Dubois strolled toward his door, subsequently pulling it open with a swipe of his hand. Though he found something rather unexpected, a ring belonging to his thought to be alive mother. Nothing passed his mind at first, but it did make him set out to find out as to why it had arrived at his doorstep.

It was only an hour later that George had the news laid bare and simple at his feet, all that had followed was a sunken, hollow feeling that persisted throughout him for the following days to come. With it out of sight and out of mind, he continued to go about his days with nothing but a lurking feeling of uncertainty etched into the corner of his mind. The ring continued to bury itself deep into the depths of his pocket for some time, until it at last it emerged into the open, and alas the Dubois finally shed a couple of tears. He barely managed to muster the word, ”Mother.” underneath his shaken voice as fond memories of Mariana flooded within him. A silent few moments passed prior to him setting the ring upon one of his fingers, thereafter allowing a deep sigh to escape his mouth before departing to spend some time with his newly born children.

Edited by lou
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Lavinia welcomed Vaeri with open arms and a light smile into the afterlife. “A familiar face.”

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The only light within Griffith’s heart went out. And no matter how much he tried, only darkness remained. The winter of 1785 was one of wretched chills and loneliness. One which only the beast within his soul remained. A voice ringed over and over in Griffith’s head, never leaving him,  For how long must I suffer? For what have I done to the Lord to deserve such a fate...?. He sulked in the dark corners of his empty house and prayed to God to give her back. Maybe if he said it enough, he thought, she would appear. But she never did.

 

When spring finally came and the flowers blossomed, nothing much changed either.

Edited by JoanOfArc
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