Pompadour

On 4/5/2021 at 1:16 AM, Lhindir_ said:

Ostromir Carrion never recalls being called an excellency as Governor of the palace, proceeding to write a notice regarding the fallacy in penmanship. 

Jeanne de Motte rolls around in her grave.

Margaret Annabelle Helvets's yellow landau clopped up to Blanche's townhouse hours after her departure. The house seemed unusually quiet and devoid of activity at first glance. Margaret's footman flew down from his perch to unfold the small steps for the Rochefortine. Placing her white gloved hand into his, and her other to carry her skirt, Margaret slowly ascended the stone steps and into the townhouse. The residence was very still. "Aunt Blanche?" The Helvetii called out. There was no response except the echo of her calling. With a bewildered mind, Margaret trudged out of the foyer and back down the stairs, where a black brougham with a black wreath on the back was standing. A black horse stood in the front of the vehicle. 

"Miss Helvets?" A cloaked man called from the carriage, where he stuck out an arm holding a letter. 

"Oh no.." Margaret said with dread, tearing open the letter. After reading one sentence that pronounced the death of her aunt, she'd drop the letter in its place, dismissed the courier, and stepped back into her carriage without help from the footman. Taking out a fan, she smacked the back of the driver and the landau clattered on. Margaret shed tears over the loss of her fourth family member within the decade. 

Margaret Helvets sulks over the loss of her great-uncle in her family’s home on Baker Street. “First my cousin, my brother, and now my great-uncle... this is catastrophic...” She’d sob, dabbing a lace handkerchief upon her sinking eyes. 

Margaret Helvets laughed when notified of the death. “Lazy man deserved it anyways...” She’d mutter. “Abandons the House of Commons on me.”

“Ruined... we’re absolutely ruined.” Margaret Annabelle Helvets frowned upon reading the sentence handed to her by a courier at the door. Now at a loss of her brother, as well as her cousin, the Rochefortine woman trudged along in her black bustle gown and collapsed on the stairs. Sobbing in tears, she’d fall asleep in her place.

Margaret Annabelle Helvets-Kovachev screams in bloody horror and faints in her bedchamber after the news was delivered to her.

Margaret Kovachev is shocked. “Oh my...”

Margaret Annabelle Kovachev (Helvets) applauds and supports her cousin.

Margaret Annabelle Helvets nodded. “This is indeed the right choice to make!” She exclaimed before finishing her tea at Carnatia House.

AUCTION CLOSED.

Margaret Annabelle Helvets would be praying every night at her vanity-dresser for her cousin’s return to health.

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RP Name: Margaret Helvets
MC Name: _Pompadour
Voted: Yes :)

Margaret Annabelle Helvets would be enjoying a pink porcelain cup full of rose tea at Gryphon Court when the pamphlet was delivered. The oaken grandfather clock chimed noon in the foyer. “Oh, dearest brother Robert you are quite stupid - just takes any woman’s hand he sees.” The Rochefortine remarked to herself whilst reading and finishing off her cup. “But what a thing to write! I cannot believe a living tree was wasted for this.” She paused for a second, looking at the etchings of the bachelors and debuts. “At least Emerentia’s gown was beautiful compared to the others.”

RP Name: Margaret Annabelle Helvets
MC Name: _Pompadour
Voted: Yes

Penelope O’Rourke stepped foot into her coach, for Haense, without sending a bird first. As she had gotten near the gates of Karosgrad, the coach hit a pothole and the front right wheel went flying off into the distance. She poked her head out the window, frowned, and finished the journey by foot.

Stefano d'Amato stood at the gates of the Seven Skies waiting several decades for Casper, where he was throwing an emerald ring up in the air, and catching it with the same hand. 

Skin: hi look at my pixel b00bz
Bid: 100 
Discord: Pompadour#3549

USERNAME: _Pompadour

FULL RP NAME: Margaret Annabelle Helvets

HOUSE / FAMILY: Rochefortine Helvets

YEAR OF BIRTH: 1792

I probably can’t even attend half of these things, so don’t kill me over it.

SURNAME: Helvets

FIRST NAME: Margaret

ADDRESS OF RESIDENCE: Gryphon Court

YEAR OF BIRTH: 1792

Are you registered and eligible to vote in the Providence District? Yes.

Do you have any other title, peerage or military service that may conflict with becoming a Member of the House of Commons, as per the Edict of Reform (1763)? No.

If yes, do you understand that you will be required to resign or abdicate from this position should you be elected to the House of Commons, and if this does not occur your seat shall be considered to be vacant?: Yes.

((MC NAME)): _Pompadour

Jeanne Poisson O’Rourke gave a terribly wry smile as she saw Bullfog enter the Seven Skies. “After all these miserable years I can finally have my wonkrings... You ran from my grasp far too many times and now I can finally add them to my collection...” The famed wonk hunter snapped out her little purple velvet case, in it would be a pair of wonkrings made from that of Gorgeous, or earrings made from wonk eyes. She smoothed her fingers over the empty holdings of where Bullfog’s would’ve been. 

“Stupid bastard. Stupid bastard was boasting about being the Count of Rochefort...” Margaret Annabelle Helvets would sarcastically remark about her father. Sitting in that same study, she rose from her seat in a graceful manner, ran down the pristine marble staircase, and out the door into a coach directed right for the heart of the city.

Margaret Annabelle Helvets promptly prepares an off-shoulder evening gown that has a ridiculously long train. “Such wedded bliss for the young couple.”

Penelope O’Rourke powders her finest wig for the occasion.

Johanna Pruvia-Albarosa remembered the kind man once he entered the Seven Skies. “Where’s that pearl necklace I ordered?...” She’d jest, jokingly, being reunited with an old friend.