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HER MERCY [PK]


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Anna Mariya had already taken to hiding away from the hustle and bustle of Providence upon the death of Isabel and caring for Victoria. This, this is what drove her truly to a low point she didn't think possible since she fled her previous life. She had already buried one child, her first with the husband she truly loved. She wasn't ready to bury her first born. 

 

She had been nineteen when Petra was born and brought her about everywhere, terrified to leave her daughter alone. That was the sin she could never forgive herself, leaving Petra and her brother behind as she fled. Even when they started to reconnect, she was terrified of falling into the same curse her parental figures had: burying their children before them. And sure enough she had.

 

She was proud of her daughter, everything she had accomplished, and that she had found love. Her prayer was a simple one "Rest well my daughter, I know I've failed you, please forgive me. We will catch up when I join you, and this time I promise to be better than the woman you knew." She cried as she prayed, hoping her daughter would forgive her eventually. 

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Father Klaus stood over Petra's grave once it was made, wherever it stood. He produced a cigarette from his satchel as he lit the end and brought the opposite to his mouth, taking a few puffs in as he looked around the area. He stopped for a second, eyes widening slightly as he seemed to look at something, before looking away. He seemed to stare at the grave for a bit too long, opening his mouth to speak a few times, before shutting it right after. it seemed a rare silence from the man felt appropriate for once. He tossed his cigarette into the nearby grass as he moved off, chuckling as he realised he and Petra weren't arguing for once.

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Philip Hughes de Rosius now also received message of his sister in-law and distant cousin who had died, right after his own grand-uncle passed away - He uttered in a loud screech onceagain. "WHY IS EVERYONE.. DYING? First its my wife Elaine, Grandfather Valent, Then Grandfather Casper, Grand-Uncle Otis and then my sister in-law. Holy f-ck."

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Theodosya Cecilya Mondblume sat upon the edge of the bed where her mother’s body had been ever-so-graciously placed. Raven locks already greying, clothes dirty and ripped from the fall, and her eyes glazed over as rigour mortis began to set. The woman would try and reach a hand to her mother’s hand - trying in some stupid and desperate ploy to try and feel some warmth but, alas, she could not. The Mondblume retracted her hand and placed it back in her quivering lap - curls hiding that of an enraged glare through threatening tears that seemed to bore into her mother’s skull - how DARE she. As the voices of those clamouring over to console the girl and to see the fallen royal’s body, Theodosya would push past them all - ears deaf to outside voices but her own.

 

The Lady Mondblume sat in her room in Richtenburg, boxes upon boxes of Prinzenas Petra’s things. Clothes, items, jewels, and more - even a doll gifted for her brother. Her eyes stared away from the multitude of passed down things and only stared onwards to the likeness of both her mother and father, immortalised in paintings of grace and regality. She hated it. She hated knowing that she would never be free from the judging look upon her mother’s face; to know more, to DO more, to BE more. Theodosya couldn’t stand looking at her mother, not like this, not when she held so much of Petra in her own features already. 

 

Screams and smashes could be heard from that top tower room of the faraway Keep - boxes shoved over and belongings tumbling out onto the floor. Torn canvases and ripped dresses lay upon the floor with decapitated dolls and toys. Grieving roars of pain and agony with the smashing of wood created a symphony that only the living would know the pain of.

 

Godan only takes and takes; how selfish he must be to laugh and enjoy the sufferings of his people.

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Father Katerina tended to her hair, it had grayed and was no longer the onyx colour it was in her youth. Why she chose to tend to her hair after learning of the death of her dear niece she did not quite know. Perhaps to distract herself from the grief, or perhaps it was because she needed time alone to think. Think about those joyeous laughs from Petra when she was but a little girl. The wonderful girl saying she wanted to learn medicine like her. She wanted to teach her of course, but at that time Katerina was not in health to really teach anyone. Her biggest regret was not being able to be there for them more, to return after so many years. 

 

"I wish we could have spent more time after I returned... I should have sent vy letters to speak, but it's too late now. I hope vy pass safely to the seven skies. Vy did well in vyr time, dear Petra" she whispered, sighing heavily as the tears finally streamed down her cheeks. The old woman standing there for a while in her room as she simply cried.

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Spoiler
On 1/20/2022 at 4:03 PM, doreebear said:

A small young wick would be seen standing next to her dear companion Magda, whom she had only recently met. She'd be seen in the distance, signing the Lorraine cross in the air. "She choked on an almond....that's what took her." Magda murmured solemnly, dropping her head. "May the seven sky be free of nut allergens." Calanthe nodded along, going to grasp Magda's hand before scurrying off.

 

 

 

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___________________________________

 

IT was a turbulent day of JUVENILE HULLABALOO AND ADVENTURE for herself and her newfound friends, CALANTHE, ELIZAVETABARLEY, and MATYASMAGDA CATALINA finally returned home from the high north, WITHERED to drowsiness. The young girl scuttled swiftly up the flights of stairs, through her brood's billet, and into her own room at last.

 

AND with pointed toes and legs extending, pushing her up into the air, the child threw herself into the bundle sheets atop her bed.

 

"An almond. ."

SHE grumbled through gritted teeth, her words muffled by the cushion supporting her face.

"That poor lady." "And Liz, she was so sad. . the lady was so cold." 

 

IT did not take long 'til those heavy lids to grow heavier as she laid. Though, if not for the TEMPESTUOUS rains paired with its HOWLING winds that those ANGERED clouds bestowed upon the manor, and the faint squeaks of a hungry rodent afar, surely she too would rest- a short slumber, opposed to the Princess.

 

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Adrianna Darkwood reads the missive, her eyes filling with sopping tears as news of Petra's death reaches her. "Nein..." She gasps, reaching up to cover her mouth as tears spill down her cheeks. "Petra.. Nicht Petra...!" The Surgeon General barricades searches desperately through the Reinmaren countryside for yellow flowers. She dons them all throughout her hair and on her person, then rushing back to her bedroom and dressing herself in her black, mourning gown.

But she doesn't emerge from her room, resolving herself to sits and read and cry in her room. She wonders whether or not Petra's fate will match her own, in due time...

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A young tenant came into the Count Dowager of Halstaig’s chamber, the man who lay awake all hours of the night, quietly took the missive to not wake the other who slept. Elias, scanned over the letter, a small gasp escaping his lips, taking a moment to reflect on the first time he met the young Petra.

“Vyr nein fun.” The young girl spoke to the Asul’onn when he attempted to stop her from going into the library at the Palace, so she wouldn’t see an argument, “Vy don’ need t’ see t’at.” He spoke in return. - Years started to drift after that, they lived different lives across the world, but every so often the Highlander would return, and when he did, he always tried to find Petra to just check in.

The Count releases a soft sigh, lightly shaking his head,
“It ist time t’at ich pay my Aunt a visit, ich know s’e ist nicht takin’ t’is vell.” He spoke into the candlelit room, looking to the dark sky through his window, waiting for the morning sun to creep over the mountains.

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"she passed?" When she heard the news, a woman queried it, her scarred brow lifting thoughtfully. Despite the fact that the dame had grown cold towards her family, towards the line that had her bound to a stake, to be put to death for nothing. Nonetheless, she felt...saddened at hearing the news. The princess knew that the Barbanov line was a fatal curse, with few living past their prime, particularly the King's "May your father's transgressions lay no barrier for you to enter the seven skies."

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A small young wick would be seen standing next to her dear companion Magda, whom she had only recently met. She'd be seen in the distance, signing the Lorraine cross in the air. "She choked on an almond....that's what took her." Magda murmured solemnly, dropping her head. "May the seven sky be free of nut allergens." Calanthe nodded along, going to grasp Magda's hand before scurrying off.

 

Spoiler

 

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A Fractured Beast, scattered across the Wastes, mourned the passing of one too good for this world. 

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