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Mme. de Potins Magazine for High Society, Issue Two


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I S S U E  T W O


 

Hello, my dear reader.

The year of 1809 has been quite very boring. However, I have exciting news for you all.

 

THE DEATH OF THE BASTARD PONTIFF

High Pontiff Owyn III- also known by his legal name, Laurence August Jrent, died this saints year. We do not know how the pillow-biter died, but we do know that he had multiple mistresses, and perhaps a mister here and there… One mistress was gossiped to be an Orcess. Perhaps he likes to be dominated in the bedroom!

 

He escalated tensions between Haense and the Empire, had multiple whorehouses throughout the countryside, and had multiple bastards, many of whom are well known. Dear reader, I ask you- do not light a candle in his honor, but instead, celebrate. Celebrate that the evil has died.

 

 

THE FORMER MAJORDOMO’S HUSBAND

Vespira Angelica d’Emyth, also known as Vespira var Ruthern, the former Majordomo of the Augustine Palace has proved herself to be inept of planning any significant event. The palace has been a ghost town ever since the last debutante, and many of these poor debutante’s events were one to forget. She has done nothing to help our Empire thrive- and one wonders- is this due to her new allegiance to Haense? Additionally, her Husband, Alric Ruthern is a known womanizer- and has had many bastards. It seems he cannot keep it in his pants- perhaps it's also because he does not enjoy Vespira’s presence, as many have noted that she is not that enchanting. I must wonder, would Miss Ruthern cheat on her husband?

 

 

NOVELLEN’S ROSE BLOOMS ANEW

The Duchess Helena, ever the keen host, finally provided the peers of the empire with a reprieve from the never ending dull events hosted in the Palace. The Lovers Masquerade, which invited Francesca the Fortunate, a renowned soothsayer among several circles, was a most prosperous ball; with over one-hundred guests in attendance. Additionally, the Duke and Duchess Helena were seen after the ball deep in conversation; sometimes a rare occurrence for the future monarchical pair. It is reported to me by the eyes and ears of the palace that a bout of melancholia has taken over the Duchess, which they believe has been long-coming from years of internal pressures and stresses. Sordid, truly! Hardly eating and rarely sleeping, no wonder concerns amongst the Duchess’s inner circle are amounting. Perhaps it’s because the Duchess’ husband has long shunned his darling wife and done little to ease her ever-amounting anxieties, or due to the fact her womb has yet to quicken with child- though whether such a misstep is a fault of her’s or her husband’s remains to be determined.

 

 

FISSTECH AND FILIGREE, or lack thereof.

Aimee de Frand, the disorderly hostess of the Ivy House, was allegedly seen drowning herself in some ‘unknown’ substances with palace officials and high society. The proprietress, noted for her flamboyant disposition and *****-like ways, has been seen slithering through the streets of Providence and attempting to recruit the noble youth to drug-den. It’s no wonder the highest-ranking nobles no longer attend her squalid parties! Between you and I, and pray you believe me, my dear, they’re nothing special. I would write more on Miss de Frand’s unremarkable talents which solely include narcotizing herself and spreading her legs for the misfortunate, but even a gossip such as I know better than to give one as undeserving as her more than a sliver of ink.

 

 

THE CREEPY CURATE

And finally, we move onto our last piece of gossip. Ferdinand of Marna was looking at children, rather creepily. The most prominent being Elisabeth Louise Novellen, an imperial princess of Aldersberg, and her dancing Partner, Otto Baruch, son of a Haenseni Duke. After a contested match of arguing, Elisabeth and Otto had to end their dance short. 


 

Signed, 

Madame de Potins.

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Pretty Princess Helen Antonia reads the scandal sheet and frowns.

 

"How sordid," she comments to her beleaguered bodyguards, before continuing to ride towards Southbridge - much to their collective dismay.

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Tears cover the page as Elijah reads the slander about his dead sister, Vespira Ruthern nee d'Emyth. He arches a slight brow at the conspiracy... 

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Anne Caroline's visage scrunched up upon seeing yet another edition of such scandalous paper. Her hand clenched over her belly as the lady's whole posture tensed. "Outrageous!" was the only thing she commented on it before throwing the paper into the fire.

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Maisie d’Arkent would glance over the paper as it was brought to her during breakfast. Laughing out loud at the de Fraud section as she simply muttered “if they only knew” her eyes moving up towards Edward. 

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An 'Ame of particular repute would narrow her eyes as such swill would find itself in the mailbox of her family estate, grumbling under her breath as her eyes scanned the putrid document.

 

"Adil'okinare, this is... horrid. Who would find it in themselves to write such disgusting words, let alone publish them to the masses?"

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"OK.. so they insult a dead person first who had left young daughters, so  I heard. Then accuse someone of high things, such as having an affair! Gosh, this lady seems to be a real somebody for talking sh*t behind peoples back and not showing up themselves to say these things."  Alyssa Seregon commented, while sipping her evening tea within the safety of her home. The mali'aheral seemed just confused about the article and the many topics this mad woman rambled about. But after seconds of reading over the article, three times, she would throw it into the fire and went back to her studies.

 

After minutes of going into her studies, she would comment to herself with a but of a curious tone and a raised brow, looking towards her pet Karin and saying "Maybe this is an undead seeking to cause chaos? Cause they do have a trash mouth." She'd say, letting out a small chuckle, then went back to her work once more.

 

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Caedric smiles at the sight of his favorite piece of Imperial literature being set upon his desk by his trusted Norlandic Puffin, he'd pour himself a strong ale before reading over the humorous articles of people he knew nothing about.

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Blanche let out a quiet sigh of relief, finding nothing of her own family in the paper. Soon after she tossed the pamphlet into the fire, ensuring no one knew she had indulged in such frivolous things.

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Yuliya Styrne sighs as she is, once again, not mentioned in the bulletin.

 

"I'd pay the woman - whoever she is - to make up some interesting rumors about me," she grumbles. "Am I not a fascinating character? Would a scandal about the famous playwright not move a few papers? Bah."

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