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Old Dowagers Passing


PrincessSnowie
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on the 13th of The Second age, the 99 year old Dowager on Selm Street had passed away due to lung complications.

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Born to the Duke Paul of Adria and Emigliana. The young girl went on to marry a bastard who would become the Prince of Vîlachia, only for her to run from him, and his brothers to murder him and take back what was theirs.

 

Julietta lived a long, joyous life. Left alone in this life with the passing of her blood relatives, leaving only the kin from her cousins Mariya and Sofiya's side, and her niece, the Dowager-Duchess Anna of Sunholt.

 

Despite her blood families absence, she grew to consider many her own blood, those who remained with her through her elder years, the young Selm Sisters who she helped raise, and tutor for a time, and the fair Princess-Dowager Eleanor d'Arkent who she was often seen doting on. She was a woman out of time, having been one of the few to be raised during the war of the Two Emperors, when the House of Horen was still in power, famously feuding with the house of Marna. Her life as an heiress to the Varoche Children, and her late husbands mass fortune kept her living comfortably, as all remember the time she outbidded herself at a painting auction, or received gifts of pomp and circumstance from her with love.

 

With her passing long over, the time has come to auction her estate by her wishes. With certain heirlooms in exception bequiffed to those in her will.

 

  • The first auction to soon commence will be her iconic wardrobe that predates to the Horen Era, while the War of The Two Emperor's was still ongoing. 
    Link To Skin Auction
  •  
  • Following her Wardrobe, a proper Auction will take place for her collection of artwork, her Jewelry, and her family heirlooms, containing a bottle of Carrion Black Circa 1446.
  • It is the hope of family and friends that you may show your support for the old Princess-Dowager outside of Theaton House, on Selm Street.

 

 

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Edited by PrincessSnowie
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⋇ A FAMILIAR LACUNA

 

In the storms of war, an aging woman was the anchor of her life — the wise word, the steady hand amongst a ship sailing into calm waters. An old royal who had a sense of mirth and good humor. From the old bustling city of Helena, to when their world set ablaze, the elder remained by her flank. A final moment of warmth was shared between the two, where Eleanor truly felt the endearment of a grandmother she embraced as a child. 

 

 

From the coldest lungs come the whitest clouds. In the sunlight the mountain peaks are a celebration of greys, from sweet-blue slate to silver-white. Her bold silhouette stood tall, reminiscing of the Dowager. A death unbeknownst to her, yet she dully thought of a simple sobriquet.

 

Cherub.


 

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The Dowager’s sister, Nicoletta of Alstion, smiled fondly as her dear sister entered the seven skies.

 

You have done so well, amour.” Cooed the woman as she gently pinched her cheek.

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A PROGENY'S LAMENT

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From where the Napoliza, nay, de Alence stood, it was all so peaceful. The sepia-washed trees that encircled him swayed gently to the melodious birdsong, a few leaves straying from their branches and taking refuge at the base of the tree. It was there that the man lowered himself and pondered his late Grandmother’s passing. As he sat there, the book of his life emerged from his conscience. His mind wandered through the chapters of his life - the war, his reunion with his family, Vitenna. All transient, all suppressed, they dispersed from his head. Yet through each of them, did the Princess-Dowagers compassion shine through. It was in fact her empathy that rescued the man from the clutches of Imperials and captivity, and from what would have been his inevitable demise to the aforementioned.  

 

“You were the only one who cared, Nonna. Who truly cared. And for that, I am forever grateful. I only wish I could have been there in your final moments; I hope that you can forgive me.”

 

Was all that escaped his parted lips, the Lorraine that rested upon his neck was swiftly grasped by his frail digits, its robust construction holding it in place - and holding the man together. His emerald gaze set out to the boundless expanse aloft, ordained with stars. Halcyon. Peaceful. That is how Solomon hoped his Grandmother passing was. With a bottle of wine and a bouquet of roses in tow, he set off towards the city of Providence. It was the least he could do. The Mother of Helena he thought with a soft laugh, a faint smile unfurling itself unto his visage. A fitting title.

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It was then that the miserable rus rose her gaze from her paperwork with the mentioned passing, lips thinning as she drew in a soft breath. With a subtle clearing of her throat and quiver of the palm she silently fetched a glass of gin.

The aged Paladin silently paid respects to the woman she rescued from the flames of Helena years ago.

Edited by DahStalker
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John Frederick Hartcold frowns upon hearing the news about the death of his great great aunt as he sat in Haense "Right...i shall visit providence once more to pay respects to a family member"

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Mariana Lucreiza di Montelliano greets her distant cousin within the Seven Skies with a tight embrace and a soft and warm smile with the infamous Nicoletta of Alstion, the coal haired woman simply letting out a soft breath of reassurance and kindness. Finally, the lone woman, was less loner then before.

 

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Maisie d’Arkent read over the notice slowly. Her eyes tired, setting the silk like paper down at her desk. Her gaze transferring to the busy Providence streets. 
 

In the young girls youth, she remember the old dowager teaching her aunt and being around her home. Yet, Maisie knew nothing of the women outside of her history books.  

 

“I need to go back to the country.” She’d simply mutter before gathering her dresses and stepping into a carriage. 

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Thea perked up fondly to the woman - whom she had considered her mother. Upon meeting her at the gate of the seven skies, the already fallen Lady sought to embrace her tightly - and to thank her for all she'd done.

---

Johanna wore a white dress as she met her dearest Mama within the skies. Her lips curled upwards into a joyous smile - and with quick steps, she paced forth in order to throw har arms about the deceased Dowager. "Oh how Luci and I have missed you! Come- we'll show you around!"

---

Minerva found herself wondering if she'd done all she could to make the Dowager Princesses last few years of life as comfortable as she could have. A sigh escaped her as she scanned over the deceased lady's possessions. "Nonna-... Never shall I ever meet a person like yourself. I hope that- that you rest easy - no matter where you are."

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From the seven skies, by the some spare fortune that she managed to live out her eternal life there and not the fiery depths below, Valera of Adria hailed her niece she never was graced the opportunity to meet (having died so young, at a mere age of twenty after the birth of her son to King Marius II ) with but a simple nod and a short-quipped response: "How the **** did you live for that long?" 

Edited by Eryane
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John the Roach sighed from the seven skies, "I can already tell she's going to force dirt pasta down my throat"

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