sarahbarah 5022 Popular Post Share Posted January 20, 2022 Spoiler HER MERCY Two figures enveloped in the morning’s light sat upon the walls of Ghaestenwald, contemplating and conversing. It was a quiet morning, albeit the intermittent musings of a Princess and an Oracle filled the gaps of silence, spare for the occasional bird chirping. “This is where Franz died.” The Oracle said with a nod of his head, leaning forward to survey the landscape in front of them. “But, of course, I am still alive.” “. . Vy are niet Franz, then?” inquired Petra after a brief silence. “No. I am the Oracle,” stated he. Curiously, Petra pressed on. “How did Franz die, then?” “He withered away, like a flower.” mused the Oracle stoically. Alas, he continued his spiel. “Franz had a story. The Oracle does not.” “The Oracle has no story; the Oracle is a part of all stories, all but his own.” For some reason, these particular sentiments struck Petra. Glancing down at the trees below her, she drew a sharp breath. Perhaps, she felt that her story had ended, just as Franz's had. Had she withered, too? She had once been dubbed ‘the Haeseni rose in bloom,’ after all. She was bound to wither, surely. Of course, her mind began to teem with distressing thoughts such as these, another deliberative silence consequently befalling her. Once more, the Oracle broke that silence of hers. “Franz was the one who granted you your title, you know.” Petra managed the smallest of smiles at that notion despite her bleak disposition. She adored her Uncle Franz. “Was he? I always felt special, having the title ‘Duchess of Karosgrad.’ I felt I had a purpose.” “Yes. He was the one.” The Oracle simply intoned, nodding his head a few times. The Princess soon fell silent again, however, pondering in that prolonged silence of hers. Where had her purpose gone, the purpose she always craved to have? She had often confined herself to her chambers at Richtenburg, now that her son had come of age to lead their house. No longer was she at the forefront of the bustling courts, nor was she the topic of any idle chatterings and gossip amongst the courtiers. Her prime had come and gone long ago. In her mind, she only existed to feel misery, to feel regret. That was her sole purpose now, it seemed. Momentarily did the Oracle interrupt her contemplation with a particularly striking statement of his own. “Franz had a story. Does Petra Emma have a story?” “. . Petra Emma has a story, da. A rather sad story, really. One that will most likely niet have a happy ending,” Petra spoke softly, looking to the horizon before her. The sun rose upon it comfortably, yet a frigid breeze accompanied the morning sun, beckoning the Princess to tell her story. “Petra grew up in a bustling court full of life and expectations that she, herself, felt she could never meet. She made many friends that she would come to cherish, even though she tragically lost a few along the way.” Petra reminisced on her youth, recalling how Rosalind Amador discouraged her axe-wielding and pants-wearing escapades. She remembered befriending Abraham, the friendly Southeron boy who shielded her from the torment of Adalia de Astrea. She recalled meeting Eleanora Baruch, her best friend who always provided her a handkerchief when she cried. She recalled meeting Adrianna Barclay, too, who had sheepishly curtsied to her and stumbled over her greeting, as well as the Barclay brothers, Klaus and Reinhardt. She remembered how shy her brother Sigismund was, and how proud she felt to be his sister as well. She remembered the antics of her twin siblings, and how reckless they were in their youth. There was more she wanted to remember, but it seemed that many memories were lost to time, forgotten in her hazy, aging mind. There were many things Petra couldn’t forget, though. She couldn’t forget the angry footfalls of her father’s boots and his booming voice that scolded her when she caused a ruckus elsewhere. She could never forget the suffocating etiquette standards she was expected to uphold within the courts. Petra could never forget her grandmother, Queen Isabel, nor her mentor, Igor Kort, who were taken from the world far too soon - plaguing her with trauma that she would never quite heal from. She could never forget the way her stepmother Annika wiped Igor’s blood off of her debut dress that night, either. “Nevertheless, the Princess still frolicked in her youth. She learned medicine, in fact. She liked helping people. She even met a peasant boy whom she had come to love dearly, though eventually cast aside so that she could attend to her royal duties.” Petra opted to remember happier times, recalling the time she first met Emma Kortrevich. The shy, yet bright Kortrevich girl was someone that Petra would come to admire and cherish dearly. The two bonded over their shared love of medicine and tending to the wounded. Helping others gave her purpose, the purpose she so desperately craved. The Princess pushed on, of course, wanting to remember more of her youth, her prime. Memories of a simple peasant boy by the name of Oleksandr came flooding back to Petra at that moment. Once more, she remembered. It was a brief few encounters, yet they held great weight in her mind. She remembered their picnic, their talks in gardens, and their feelings for one another. Petra recalled that they were doomed from the start. They could never be together. Her standing in society was far more important to her, after all. She was a princess, and princesses were expected to tend to their royal duties. That was her purpose, and her purpose drove that peasant boy away. Her purpose, in this instance, had consumed her entirely. Petra did come to regret this. “She met a Baron and married him. Her father was happy with the arrangement, and thus, she was happy, too. She grew to love the Baron dearly, just as she had the peasant boy.” Petra drew another quiet breath, ruminating over the memories that all seemed to blur together. These were happier memories, at least. She fondly recalled the day she met her husband, Yvo. He shyly offered her a few cookies and a piece of jewelry, which she thought was silly at the time. The two grew closer over the few years they knew each other, sharing laughs and drinks alike in the Hunter’s Inn. Petra yearned for simpler times such as these. A soft smile found its way to Petra’s face as she remembered how nervously Yvo asked her father for her hand in marriage, the wedding dress she donned on her wedding day - her grandmother’s, and how excited she was to wear it. She reveled in these happy memories, but only for a few moments longer. “She had many children, all of whom she held dear. Her happiness was short-lived, though - far too short-lived. Her husband fell into a comatose state, leaving her with a noble house to lead and eight children to parent alone. She led for ten years before she handed the reins over to her son once he had come of age. The strain of leading, though, caused irreversible damage within her household. Her children loathed and resented her for abandoning them and prioritizing the wellbeing of the house over their own happiness.” “Petra regretted that greatly. She should have let her children be happy.” Petra could recall that she was thrilled to be a mother. She had become quite accustomed to tending to the children around Karosgrad, especially her own siblings, as she was the eldest one about. Petra could also recall that her motherhood was not an easy one. She remembered how deeply she had mourned when her husband had fallen into that coma, leaving her the burdens of parenting children alone and leading a house in his stead. She recalled the fear she felt. She remembered how alone she felt, the same loneliness she feels right now. Petra remembered that she pushed through, nevertheless. She worked tirelessly to arrange appropriate marriages for her children, all while attending the Duma to ensure that their spot was secured. The fruits of her labor rotted horrendously, however. Like mother, like daughter, Isabel had taken a liking to a common boy, causing the betrothal that Petra had arranged to fall to pieces within only months. Petra, of course, did not want to remember anymore - yet she had to finish her story. She vividly recalled the disappointment she felt in her daughter, which would lead to the downfall of her relationship with her children. Each child, slowly but surely, drove themselves away from their frantic and paranoid mother. Her children surely resented her, she thought. She believed she neglected them, all to ensure that their noble status remained. Petra now had to live with yet another regret: the regret of driving the children she loved so dearly away. “Petra's daughter, Isabel, died. Her other children are as lonely as she is and yet - she can't find it in herself to support them. She feels as if she failed, as if she’s driven everyone away. She wonders if she served her purpose - as a mother, as a medic, as a friend. She wonders if she did enough.” “. . Did she do enough? Did Petra Emma do enough? She has regrets - far too many to withstand.” Petra fell into yet another contemplative silence, wallowing in her regret. Tears stained the Princess’s face, yet she did not seek to wipe them away. Hoarsely, she spoke yet again, desperately seeking to break such a deafening silence, to rid herself of the regret ringing in her ears. “She loved her husband. She wishes he was here to bear the burden of these regrets and heartbreaks alongside her.” Petra now seemed unable to speak any longer, letting the frigid breeze fill the lingering silence for her. Her teary-eyed gaze did not stray from the horizon, even after she had finished her story. The Oracle allowed that silence to linger for many more moments after. He too contemplated, taking note of one of her earlier sentiments regarding the regret she lived with. It saddened him, truly. He opted to break the silence, then. “There are many souls that still linger in this world. I've met my fair share of them, most of them have long died, yet they linger, tortured by regrets…” the Oracle began. “I put them into two categories: the ones who did not live long enough, those who were unable to see their goals achieved and regret not being able to do so… And those who lived too long, they've long ago accomplished everything, and lived their joy. Now, that joy is long gone, and their life falls into misery.” Upon hearing the Oracle utter such, Petra’s frame stiffened considerably. She pondered, wondering if she was doomed to a stagnant misery for the rest of her years. Another treacherous silence fell over her briefly. That silence was interrupted by a simple inquiry made by the Oracle. “Do you remember Rosalind?” “I do. Tragic, really. She passed away quite young,” Petra murmured idly, her gaze fastened onto the horizon still. A grim expression crossed the Oracle's visage as he pushed himself to stand again. He seemed more absent than he had before, as if his focus was elsewhere. Gradually, then, did his stoic demeanor begin to falter. “Rosalind was beginning to live too long. She was past her prime, past her joy….” “If I… If I had let her live any longer, she would've stayed too miserable.” The implications made by the Oracle hit her, then. The Princess, however, was at a loss for words. She could not run away, either. She was tired, after all. Their trip to Ghaestenwald was arduous, and her aging joints were weary. Despite the instinctual fear that overtook her, she could not will herself to move an inch. Perhaps she had already resigned herself to a fate similar to Rosalind's. “It was mercy, Petra.” The Oracle insisted. “I can grant you mercy, too… You won't have to linger, you can pass on, truly.” In that moment, Petra began to deliberate - not for her own sake, but for the sake of those in her life. Still, she could not urge herself to move away from the Oracle. “. . My children - my children. Don't they need me?” she weakly inquired, grasping onto something - anything, to validate her existence, her regret-ridden existence, on this plane. “Your children will move on. The world will move on.” He stated, and it held with it perhaps a bout of reassurance. The Oracle only inched closer to where Petra sat upon the wall, frozen in place. “It doesn't matter what you want, Petra. This is what has to happen.” “My brothers, Andrik and Sigismund - will they be alright?” Petra's eyes had once again begun to glisten with tears as the reality of her fate dawned upon her, yet she resigned herself to it. Her purpose was served on this plane - she had no purpose left to fulfill, not in her mind, yet she sought reassurance in her final moments. “Ana, my father, my step-mother . . .” Petra frantically listed off all of those she held dear to her, repeating quick, rapid prayers in her head. “They will be okay, with time.” The Oracle nodded his head once, assuring her once again. Fleetingly, time seemed to halt as Petra exhaled simple words that would be her last. “. . Surely - surely they'll be alright.” Then came a shove from behind, as the Oracle intended to push her off of the railing she sat upon. Just as swiftly as he had pushed her, the Princess plummeted to the grassy plains of Ghaestenwald below. The Princess Royal was dead. The Oracle gazed upon where Petra had fallen. The grim expression upon his face quickly faded, and soon, as she drifted skyward, so did his eyes. And he sighed with great relief, for now he was truly convinced that this had been right. RNASK IV PEACE PRINZENAS PETRA EMMA PRINCESS ROYAL OF HANSETI-RUSKA DUCHESS OF KAROSGRAD 365 E.S. - 409 E.S. | 1812 - 1856 Spoiler Hi everyone! I just wanted to pop in and say that I absolutely loved playing this character. I’m sad to see her go, but I do have to focus on my other characters, Isabel and Marie for now. Huge thank you to Gus - he did some amazing roleplay with me leading up to this moment for Petra and helped me plan all of this out! Also thanks erictafoya for reading over my post and proofreading :) Another big shoutout to Mady and Rudi for giving me this character and letting me join the Haense community. It’s a huge honour to play a princess and I hope I did her justice :)) Thanks for all the love you guys have shown me. I’ll be around <3 47 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
shay 2200 Share Posted January 20, 2022 r 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Maevlin 681 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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. 11 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gandhi 2708 Share Posted January 20, 2022 r 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Fionn__TWG 2616 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Franczhiz 4053 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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." 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
beetle 2761 Share Posted January 20, 2022 r 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
marslol 672 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
MissToni 3487 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Melpomenne 1553 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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. ___________________________________ IT was a turbulent day of JUVENILE HULLABALOO AND ADVENTURE for herself and her newfound friends, CALANTHE, ELIZAVETA, BARLEY, and MATYAS; MAGDA 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. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
CopOwl 1668 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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... 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Moenah 1019 Share Posted January 20, 2022 R 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
StrongBear 1185 Share Posted January 20, 2022 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. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
doreebear 601 Share Posted January 20, 2022 "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." 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 @Melpomenne 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Valannor 6345 Share Posted January 20, 2022 A Fractured Beast, scattered across the Wastes, mourned the passing of one too good for this world. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts