The Father of Haute-Epine [PK]

[Franczhiz 4053]

Spoiler

 

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Le Père De Haute-Epine

‘The Father of Haute-Epine’

1864 - 1911

 

Ludovicus Iosephus de Rosius

Father of Haute-Epine, Marquis-Emeritus de Haute-Epine

 

As the day only began, Louis Joseph got out of his sick-bed, coughing up big amounts of blood in an emptied bucket. He held his head in pain, screaming from his chambers for the medic to arrive and take care of him. 

 

“Aidez-Moi!”

 

With that signal, medics ran up to the stairs whereas Louis Joseph de Rosius began to scratch his nails into the floor and began throwing various objects through his chambers. Though.. Once the medic arrived, he laughed? 

 

The household guards began to restrain Louis from going anywhere and thus locked him up again within his room as was done before to make him heal from his illness. As Louis Joseph went back into his bed, his breathing slowly began to decline, he shut his eyes; for he did not know what was to become of him when facing the judgment of GOD. His last words being:

 

“Louis August, take care of my legacy, my boy. Guide Our people into a bright future.”

 

A few moments later, his breathing fully stopped; and he thus died on the very land that he founded to restore his family their renown. He was nothing more but a simple corpse, passing away with the hope to reunite with his ancestors and to have his legacy secured.

 

And so, the following news was spread to the various regions in the Kingdom of Aaun:

 

“Louis Joseph de Rosius, Margrave-Emeritus of Haute-Epine and the 4th Patriarch of House de Rosius, passed away peacefully in his sleep as he succumbed to his illness which he suffered from during his self-incarceration. May he rest in peace and rejoin his ancestors in the Seven Skies.”

 

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Spoiler

Playing Louis Joseph de Rosius was most fun but he was past his prime and so I felt like it was about time to drop him

 

I'd like to thank a good amount of people for the RP:

 

@VictoriaMinajfor spending most time for the fun RP I was able to have while playing Louis and being a good friend of mine OOC

@exoofor being a based twin-brother of Louis and a day one IRL

@rep2kfor being f-cking amazing in securing a legacy for the House de Rosius and a real bro of mine

@RamonMy thanks for being an amazing RP companion on Ottomar to Louis and a real trustworthy friend

@seannie Thanks or giving me the opportunity to become a Margraviate and for the tremendous amount of RP we had, luv G

@BalthasarYou too for being an amazing RP Companion whilst I played Louis

 

There is probably more people I should thank but it really was my pleasure playing him, and I'll see you all on the next persona!

 

o7

 

 

[rep2k 2477]

Upon hearing the order from a nearby guard not to enter the room, Louis August was left with nothing but patience. And hope, for it was the only thing he could have done for his father. Hope, and prayer for his health.

 

Alas, the hope has been hastily extinguished, as the medic slowly opened the door of Louis Joseph's room, shaking his head to younger Louis only once. Truth be told, that shake was enough for the youngster to understand that his father is gone.

 

"À bientôt, father..", he muttered slowly, quietly, in a pain caused by losing one of his best friends, but most importantly.. a father.

[exogens 934]

The aging knight, count, and most importantly the late Margrave's twin has lit a candle for a fallen family member. He would mutter the following words "Your son is in good care under my eyes, Louis. I hope you find peace up there, as you always wanted. We will meet again soon, and most importantly, watch over us." 

[Timer 1389]

A Sarkozic of the south, the nephew of the recently deceased Louis August lit a candle for the man. "May vy rest in peace" muttered Kasimir over the lit candle

 

[Songwitch 1438]

Ysabeau stumbled upon this notice. Her eyes read from start to finish; Smack! The woman's palm shot upward, and slammed against the chest. She then turned over the missive, scribbling upon it few rhythmic verbose and ultimately depositing the paper within the pocket in her gown:

 

"Crawl, carve- the string of fate recoils, and shines. 

Lodge in a stitch; part of its gleam. It flows, and crawls.

A pattern as thin, sweet, and small, as motes made of glistened dust.

Crushed, and severed. The string dies down; forgotten behind wilted roses."

[poki 354]

Sviatoslav mourned the passing of a friend, from somewhere at seas.