Will Ye No Come Back Again? [PK]

[Eryane 3698]

Spoiler

 

Her son in law;

The news came in the night, as a courier knocked on the door leading into the imperial quarters of the Emperor and Empress. Whilst Philip slept on his side of their quarters, Anastasia rose from her own bed and opened the door in her half-awake consciousness. Slumber was not easy for those with a tormented mind, this she knew well. The black-clad courier held out a letter, which she took and muttered nonsense as she waved him off. He bowed, she closed the door, and then there was silence other than the slowly fading echo of his footsteps. Philip still slept when she glanced over her shoulder, then down to the sealed letter.
 

There were many letters piling up from the day, yet she clutched onto this late notice in particular for some time - until she opened it, and scanned its contents. Her hands trembled as she read it again and again. A numbness had taken to her, some form of possession with anger. As her mind drifted away and her thoughts became a blurry and mix of nonsense in her grief, screams of sheer horror and pain were heard echoing from the imperial apartments until the aging empress could be calmed: this would not come for hours.

 

 

OOC:

Spoiler

I wish you all the best sashimi. You were perhaps one of my favorite people to RP with, and I hope to see you about still on discord and chat. Joseph was an amazing character to see grow, especially with his story and how far he came by the end of it all. Best of luck with whatever you do. o7

 

[Taketheshot 3834]

Leopold Edwin frowned as he read the missive at breakfast, watching his mother carefully as she suffered through so much loss herself. Finally the boy queried out. "Mama, is your Cat going to be alright?" The young Novellen spoke of the Princess Imperial.

 

@SapphirePool

[Minuvas 3193]

"Another Sarkozy? One of the few good Valah noble houses. I am dismayed at the loss of such a young life" Laments Minuvas to a nearby courtier in his tree palace.

[Britannicvs 2508]

Damianos feels empty. 

[Kholibrii 1211]

Anne of Sunholdt sat upon her favorite couch within her quarters, her feet tucked under her body as she read through the countless papers she must review. Despite it nearing midday, the Countess had yet to change from her silk sleeping gown, her hair plainly streaming down her back. Like clockwork, a young maid knocked on the door to Anne's room at exactly noon with a silver tray in hand, only a meal and an assortment of letters to the side. As the maid silently departed, Anne sat her readings to the side and moved over to the table where the tray had been left. The Countess read the letters whilst slowly eating her food.

 

CLANG!

 

A fork fell to the floor, bits of potatoes scattering as the fork continued to softly rattle against the floor. Moments later a small letter floated down to rest alongside the fork. Anne waveringly lifted herself from her chair, hands shaking as her gaze panickily shifted across her quarters, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. After staring around the room for what felt like hours, the weeping woman pulled herself through the room toward a far corner before falling to the ground. 

 

Anne lay on the cold floor while tears puddled on the wood beneath her head for at least an hour before slowly drifting off to sleep. Snowflakes began to fall from a stary winter sky as the Countess dreamt of her past...

 

Spoiler

Loved Joseph as a character and am really sad to see him go, but enjoy your time away from mineman while you can because we all know everyone comes crawling back at some point.

 

[Hephaestus 1326]

______________________________________________
 

Spoiler

 

 

 

Par for the course of his day-to-day morning routine, SAUL SANGRIA, known in certain circles as Archie Goodman, or Archibald Cornelius, applied his herb-mint facial mask. At first, only modest dabs along his jowls, which soon crescendoed into kneading and scrubbing into his vacant pores, forehead high beyond dimensions, and eyes fashioned on his face in a way so sunken and hollowed that they sparkled with memory. Saul watched the ramshackle patio just off the lintel of his window with a high voltagw stare, moseying himself out from the abode in the buffer time for his ointment to sink in. A shilling and some were all which would prove sufficient for the courier-boy's recompense, where he spilt a letter into the venturist's hand. Overcast by most of other startling features on his pockmarked face, a long dialogue seemed to relay through his mind, as his eyes — which were, by the way, fringed with long, sweeping lashes — regarded the sorry death-letter with teary-eyed disinterest.

He slid the parcel into the envoys hand, thinly veiled, but tough skin folding over his eyebrows as they tentatively knit into one another.

 

"Hey, don't you shoot 'th'messenger, sirrah." The courier complained. It was typical for message-bearers,

in this neck of the woods, to make up for the better part of illiterates and yardbirds.

 

"I was not planning to." The high-brow Saul purred back. "You tell them who to call, though."

 

Returning into the callused, weatherbeaten hand of the message-envoy a business card, Saul stepped back below the lintel of the door, only warning to slam it:

 

"Tell 'em, they better call Saul."

 

Slam!

 

Spoiler

Not sure what to say here that I haven't said to you over Discord.