livrose

Queen Emma, from the Seven Skies, welcomed Borris into the place where all whom he loved had passed. Her nephew of witty tongue and weighted quill. She drew him in alongside Klara, offering a familiar smile he would not have seen for too long. 

Though, in her head, she could not shake a few lines of his verse. 

"This has been a race well run, a battle well fought. 

In this age, none shall forget your name."

Emma Karenina's heart, though long since stopped beating, swelled with pride. All that had been sacrificed and worked for, by countless women before her, was beginning to become worthwhile. "Ah. Little Georg, continuing where ea and mea ladies had failed."  The prospect of an equal and celebrated Haense seemed more tangible, now. It was a thought to warm even the coldest in the Seven Skies. 

haense!!! this is so great 

From the Seven Skies, Emma Karenina had continued her vigil over all her loved ones much like she had done in life. She had watched Ami’s last days, her goodbyes, had felt her pain of losing both father and husband. Johann’s girls would inhabit a special part of her heart. Even now, though it no longer pumped fresh blood, it still felt as full as ever.

When Amicia passed into the afterlife, Emma was waiting.

From the Seven Skies, Queen Emma likely had begun a new enterprise of bakeries in order to feed the wandering souls who rotated through her doors. With Haeseni delicacies, attempts at childhood favourites as well as home-crafted recipes, one needed only to follow the wafting smell of burning to pinpoint the Queen’s efforts. With a sixth sense only a mother might possess, as Karl expelled a last breath a small smile etched itself into her expression.

That night, one more place was set at their table. They were to welcome a son, a brother, a friend, home.

love you mady, wishing you well <3

Emma Karenina added sweet Madeline to her prayers that night. She knelt at the side of her bed, eyes glued shut, as the aged woman recalled the many months aiding her and Iulius’ engagement, the happy years that had followed. Iulius, whom she considered a son, Emma worried for - and resolved to visit him and the children soon. 

i love conor schizo posts!!! +1

MC Name:

         livrose

Character's Name:

         Rosalind Amador de Astrea

Character's Age:

         60

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         Human

Transformed form:

         Phantom (Revenant)

Creator's MC Name:

         N/A

Creator's RP Name:

         N/A

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

People become phantoms once their souls struggle to pass through Ebrietaes, and into the eternal after-life, especially after a traumatic death. Rising again as phantoms (Revenants in this infant stage): disorientated and in denial of their deaths, they endeavour to discover the circumstances of their end. They are more susceptible to pain, take longer to heal, and aurum is more effective against them. They are weaker when interacting with the mortal world, and can become invisible.

All phantoms are incorporeal (meaning they don't have to eat, sleep, drink etc, and essentially cannot affect the world like other players) they do not possess a physical body as a mortal would. Ectoplasm is the malleable and intangible substance that makes up ghosts, appearing in the form of a gas or liquid. Phantoms cannot remain under the sun's glare for long, so must stick to the shadows and darker nights. Aurum can become an impenetrable barrier to them, or just dust remains a painful threshold if crossed.

Poltergeists cannot accept their deaths, and instead become enraged - emotionally very angry and negative, to the point where their humanity is replaced with more animalistic features (claws, sharpened teeth, grunts and hisses) - physically taking on the form of how they died, darker and more frightening than Specters. They cannot move past their trauma, and are very emotion-driven, able to haunt, to use telekinesis, among other abilities.

Specters are their docile counterparts: having accepted their death, and found peace in that state, they appear often in lighter shades of white/yellow to reflect this inner peace. Their voices are more melodic, tempers more benevolent, and their emotions are much more stable than a Poltergeist's. They do not lose their human selves, resembling their previous personality, however over time tend to distance from their mortal lives: forgetting pieces. They can create an aura of calm, use telekinesis, shift form, but these powers over the physical realm are not as great as a Poltergeist's. 

If this construct or creature has some form of aesthetic choice, can you describe how they look? 

Rosalind died being impaled in the torso - so as a Revenant, her dress would be ripped in the place around her heart, both front and back - stained with something reminiscent of blood. Wearing her usual dress, standing at about 5'6, Rosalind's hair would be mussed up. 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Do you understand that if this creature's lore is undergoing an activity trial and that trial fails, you will no longer be able to play this creature and will be forced to either revert the character back to its normal form (if it was a transformative type) or stop playing the character entirely (if it is an entirely new creature)?:

         Yes

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

         I understand

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Emma tucks the palace into her old lady handbag (not powergaming)

THIS IS THE NICEST THING THANK YOU SM

(i can't believe you put in the spit glass) 

but genuinely just having the opportunity to be part of this fab community, let alone Queen, is just amazing - i'm very grateful c:

Emma Karenina placed the letter on the edge of her bedside, smoothing out any wrinkles. She had scanned the page, read and reread the words a hundred times over, yet still it did not feel real. Her apprentice, the brave and selfless Surgeon she had known... the woman who had delivered almost all of her children, who stood by her for lessons and clinical crises, gone like so many others.

Johann, Adrianna, Sigismund, all in a matter of weeks.

The bed creaked as she sat down on its edge, eyeing the boxes and trunks that piled around her, amidst the moving process from her old rooms. Still in her black robes, Emma sighed, fiddling with the edges of her sleeves. She was tired, so, so tired, and yet even when her eyes fluttered shut- she found no respite. 

Emma Karenina, Queen of Haense, had never ridden a horse so quickly. When the messenger boy, red-faced and panting, had arrived; she just knew. His sunken eyes betrayed his following message, and he barely uttered the name of the King before Emma felt the world tilt with a lurch, and she heard herself calling for her steed. 

She pressed herself against its flank, ignoring the aches of hard riding, as Norlandic trees and foliage streaked by, soon blurring to the icecaps of Haense. Home. The name Sigismund spilled from her lips as she arrived to the Haeseni gates - and she was ushered to the Prikaz. Each passerby’s expression was mournful, each one pitying. She kept her chin lifted, mounting the steps to the Nikirala, ignoring the circling whispers. 

There, she sat quietly beside his body, holding one of his stiff hands as if squeezing it hard enough would encourage the colour to return to his cheeks. Walton had told her what had occurred as she entered. She had been struck silent. Emma leant forward to brush back a curl of Sigismund’s greying hair, before slumping back in her seat. Alone, and unheard, the Queen whispered to him. “Vy said vy wouldn’t. Vy said- vy…” She sucked in a wobbling breath, overcome with grief- yes, but guilt as well. She hadn’t been there, in his last precious moments. Hadn’t been there to try, to beg him, not to duel. Behind the hardened exterior, the beard and the grey, laying there Sigismund seemed more the boy-King she had known and loved, all those years ago. 

“Ea hope vy have found vyr peace.” She said, eventually, each word heavy as it rung out in the quiet room. “With all who we have loved.”

Emma leant out over the edges of the Vidaus pavilion, placidly eyeing the dizzying drop below. Wind tustled through the open ballroom, yet still the slight woman perched, silks and scarves whipping about her face, unmoving. Sorina had sat beside her for a few hours until the light had faded and the air grew colder, before seeking refuge in the warm. 

Perhaps she was punishing herself. Emma had reached Ana, pulled her out of her bench, tried to resuscitate her - and yet, with another of God's bitter twists, all her medical training proved futile. Who could she protect, what sort of physician could she call herself, if she could not even save the ones she loved? 

So she remained outside long after any of the sunset's light had winked away, until her figure was a mere dark outline against the pillar, still staring out into the dark fabric of night. 

Emma Karenina has country-vibes Taylor Swift on repeat, (Taylor's Version, naturally).

Emma Karenina did a double-take, eyes widening as she reread the passage about her youngest son. As the clock on her mantle ticked past, the Koenas remained frozen in her chair, clutching the gossip paper ever-tighter. "Dorothea... PREGNANT?" She whispered to herself. Promptly, her eyes started to water. "Mea? A hauchmamej, already?" 

She stood abruptly, resolving to finding a rather neat solution to quash any further rumours... "JOSEEEEFFF?"

Monthly Player Appreciation

March 2022: @Lmcfc

TIME FOR MARCH APPRECIATION AND OH MY GOSH THIS IS GOING TO @Lmcfc !! 

I had the pleasure of knowing Kirsty right when she joined Haense on Isabella Decaden, and we RPed right at the gates. You’ve genuinely been such a positive asset to this community with your laughter, bubbly attitude (and your cats!). We love how crazy you are, in VCs and in game. I still remember the Decaden’s chaotic boat party, where we all started floating away…

As a new player you recruited and built one of the largest commoner houses we’ve had recently, the Decadens. It is down to your hard work, friendliness and inclusive mindset that it was able to grow; so players like Lizard, Raijen, Yessie (and more) joined our community!

Isabella was always behind the bar of the tavern, serving up drinks and RPing with anyone who came through its doors. The character also is a qualified physician, who worked on many a soldier when they needed help, a member of the Queen’s Council,  as well as the matriarch of the Decadens.

Now she plays little Johanna Ludovar, who is super funny and super cute. I look forward to seeing where she'll take you! 

“Thanks to her and her incredible talent at befriending anyone she wants, I got to know people and started feeling a part of Haense. She might be crazy, but she is the most caring and friendly person around.”

“She's incredibly excited about pretty much everything”

“Kirsty is such a sweet soul showing off her cats and doing her best to bring a smile to everyone. She always comes up to me in game to say hello and try to scare me”

“It's always a joy to be around Kirsty, she spreads a very positive energy around her, and this is reflected both in-game and on Discord”

"She has such great contagious energy - it's one of the best things about her"

So thank you Kirst, for being so great! We appreciate you - this month’s for you.

@Lmcfc

The Koenas’ Jottings

On This Lifstala’s Male Presentations 

The date had been pencilled in as 10th of Joma and Umund

It has been a successful season thus far, though I find my memory waning. With so many young debutantes and bachelors flocking through these doors it has proven hard to keep track of them. I told myself I would compile a list, just for my own eyes, to remind myself of each participant so I might form a rounded view of them. Anastasya assures me it is a good idea. Here goes:

I. His Serene Highness, Karl Sigmar.

I’ve never quite noticed just how alike Karl and Sigismund look - well, not until he stepped beneath the box and peered upwards, blowing the arena’s sand from his vision. The boy looked positively gallant, and had a rather extraordinary opening including fireworks and all sorts of dramatics. Whatever nerves he felt did not rise to the surface of his calmed composure. He elected to try his hand at the archery challenge, and… well… was not wholly terrible. A solid effort from my dear boy, and he did not embarrass himself completely. Good thing he’s Grand Prince to bolster his status! I cannot help but wonder whether his misfortune this Season is due to a lack of girls interested in him, or he who is not interested in pursuing them. My conscience tells me it is the latter.

II. His Royal Highness, Sergei Aleksandr.

Karl’s other half- mildly delayed in a daydream at the beginning of his exhibition, but he seemed to pull it together. I didn’t spot Lady Aloisa in the crowds, though I’m sure she was watching with an especially keen eye. His entrance was inferior to his brothers, lacking fireworks and bugling, but nevertheless dobry. He chose the joust as his trial of strength: had a successful start, landing a large hit, though in the third and final round was lanced from his horse. A good effort, one that did him no shame, and surely impressed the Lady Aloisa. I suppose that is all he cares for.  

III. His Royal Highness, Josie Frederik.

I feel I have to record the growth of little Josie! From a mere toddler, he has grown into quite the handsome man. Perhaps a touch prideful. He focused on the eligible ladies who littered the high stands, throwing waves this way and that. Ah! And the polished plate of Barbanov-Bihar armour shone with the sun overhead. Though- perhaps I ruined whatever bachelor look he was going for with his childhood nickname… as in a bid to make the match more challenging for himself, he removed his helm. (I note that it smacked poor Lady Sorina in the gut!) The dear boy then proceeded to lose. Poor thing. I sent him some flowers afterwards. 

IV. His Royal Highness, Lucien Auréle.

The entrance of my eldest was rivalled only by the Savoyard Prince- no doubt they planned it together, as they do most things. Trumpets sounded as he strode into the arena along with fireworks. It is most certain that his display sent many a lady swooning in the crowd. For his trial, he chose a duel. He bested the Lord Marshal himself, ranking him the first successful presentation! A foreign prince besting my three sons is a tad disheartening, but, alas, I must give credit to the Prince where it is due. A stellar opening, dazzling match, and triumphant victory to top it off. The Prince will certainly have maidens flocking to his side. 

V. His Lordship, Matyas Alban.

Lord Matyas was simplistically direct in his opening; a refreshing change! He strode out and addressed us, the judges. I must note that his confidence was admirable- and thus was further proven in his decision to circumvent our challenges altogether, instead presenting his own written work. A… rulebreaker, some kind of daredevil, to assert his own idea! I'm sure that is the sort of thing ladies love these days. Though, my complaints died once his work was presented: a short story surrounding women’s rights. It strayed from the presentation guidelines, yet was a daring move. Perhaps it paid off - for it certainly made the boy stand out. Both 'bad boy Matyas', and a man who believes in equality? Woah! 

VI. His Lordship, Konstanz Barclay

Konstanz Barclay - the poor unfortunate soul whose betrothed cast him aside a week ago! She, who married only the last saint’s day in a flurry of royal fuss… leaving him quite alone. The poor boy, how I do feel for him. His mother tells me all sorts. I believe his intentions in this presentation therefore were to impress. He marched out, planting a spear into the sand. Yet, instead of conventionally greeting the judges, Lord Konstanz began to dance provocatively towards the stands. It can only be assumed that this was some sort of ancient… mating… signal, as I can see no other reason for the showcase. A challenge of wit was issued to him, despite my understanding that he is rather soft in the head. He ran out of time before naming the last Haeseni Consort: myself! A good effort, I suppose. Perhaps his saddening story with Princess Renata will pull at a few heartstrings of Haeseni ladies. 

VII. His Lordship, Eugen Barclay

Unlike his brother, Eugen was prompt, arriving on a glorious stallion. He seemed humble, kind, and landed somewhere in between Matyas’ simple entrance, to Luciens’ ostentatious one. The trial he chose was no surprise; a joust. For his riding was quite skilled, he and the Duke Ruthern were equally matched. On their second bout, the Duke dismounted him, sending the teen smacking into the dirt below. A harsh fall, but quickly recovered - and for that, I must applaud the Barclay lord. 

VIII. His Lordship, Mikhail Ruthern

Perhaps the most controversial bachelor of the Season… Mikhail Ruthern, who my judges had declared the Nikirala Stag, until he defaced his name by hurling insults towards good members of the Court. Alas, he entered the arena with his arms up, as if already victorious. He knelt, and requested two trials. Two! Bold- stupid, perhaps. His father battled him in a joust, and was dismounted by his own son… I suspect the Duke did not fasten himself itno his stirrups properly. No matter! Lady Amadea issued the boy mathematical questions, converting this that and the other in manners I can hardly comprehend. His success in both these challenges was indeed questioned once the uproar began regarding his dubbing the ‘Nikirala Stag’.

IX. His Lordship, Matyas (Joren) Baruch

He entered the arena, adorned in high standard silks and material - being fond of fashion myself, I admit he caught my eye. Amidst his entrance, and opening introduction, a particular farfolk girl was by no means shy as to her excitement. Has Matyas (or Joren, as his nickname goes) found his match? A farfolk girl? As I scribble these notes, I cannot help but recall his amusing challenge. He too, elected to stray from our guidelines, calling in a bold declaration for a “name duel”. A battle against Matyas Alban for the right of their name! Dreadfully exciting. Yet, I fear the impact was lost on this Baruch as he lost… forfeiting his name for a whole year in favour of Joren. 

X. His Lordship, Borris Kortrevich

Borris, my dear nephew and poet-extraordinaire. He was never the loudest, most confident of men, but he approached us with a smile and a slip of paper. We accepted poetry as his challenge, which he recited unfalteringly. The lyrical prose garnered the attention of more than one lady, including Adele Ludovar. Perhaps her attentions have strayed from Matyas Alban! The first, I thought, was rather depressing for such an event. The second piece, ‘Above the Rest’ was charming. “It is not the rose’s hand I seek…” the boy recited. My! Perhaps Lady Dorothea will be upset. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a masked insult towards the Rutherns, or perhaps the boy should be commended for his honesty in his pursuit of something more valuable. 

XI. His Lordship, Jakob Morovar

Ah! My interests were piqued at this presentation. The Morovar matched out, donning a new fur cloak over his shoulders. His pleasant arrival and look was affected somewhat by his rather quiet responses - I half thought him mute at first! Once the awkwardness had passed, the Duke and Morovar saddled in for a joust. It did not last terribly long, as the boy was soon dismounted. Not quite the credit to his Dame mother afterall, but I suppose there is still time yet! Perhaps Klara should not shackle herself to a singular option, this early into the Season… 

XII. Firr, Grigori Vyronov

Perhaps this Vyronov would have been more successful had he not shown, like the de Sarkozy or Demetriyus Kortrevich. At least, then, the honour of his family would still be intact. Somewhat. I do feel for my Secretary. The beginning was oh-so-pleasant, manners impeccable, dedicating his joust to the daughter of the Grand Lady in a swooping chivalrous gesture. Yet on the first round of the joust he was dismounted, and landed harshly. Unlike Eugen Barclay, the Vyronov stood, protesting this outcome. To smooth any discontent, the pair fought again, as the Vyronov declared his family’s honour rested upon his victory. His next dismounting was more painful - perhaps not physically, but I felt a  collective wince echo within the arena. Thereafter, I have heard he has been dubbed “The Undesirable of the Season.”

XIII. Firr, Lukas Vyronov

Firr Lukas arrived with the fierce determination to make up for his brother’s slips. He arrived with a red rose in his teeth, confidence radiating, and threw the flower up into the stands to the Duchess Georgina - much to the frustration of her husband, the Duke, who stood beside her. Confidence! It can make up for any blunder. He faced the Duke in a trial, where he triumphed fair and square. I admire his nerve. Where his brother failed, he did not, and thus elevated his family’s name a touch more. It is he, who is the favourable face of the Vyronov family. Good on him. 

- E.K.

Emma yanked out her Ferryman cooking apron and green bandana, blowing off the dust they had collected.

The Silver Jubilee of Hanseti-Ruska

Vzmey and Hynk, 418 E.S.

[!] A painting of a young King Sigismund and Queen Emma, dressed for Summer Solstice.

Va ve Edlervik,

Only once per lifetime may one experience the wondrous fete of a Silver Jubilee, celebrating twenty-five years of a prosperous, fulfilling rule. The King and Queen shall come together to invite all denizens and its prestigious allies of the Kingdom to share this historic moment - to make merry and witness such an honourable ceremony between two faithful sovereigns. Twenty-five years of rule solidify their place upon the throne - leaders of the people and divine servants of God. To celebrate this monumental Silver Jubilee, a grand festival shall be held on the Saint's day. The hardships of war will be forgotten on this day, a day of serenity instead in its place. Those who attend the festival should expect an impressive competitive tournament, as the monarchs seek to connect once more with their people, followed by a grand trip to the tavern to engage in revels of drinking and games.

The Jubilee Tournament

Taking place in the Trelka Arena, all combatants in attendance shall be invited to prove their mettle in a competitive tournament. It will feature a simple bracket format, where only one shall prevail and take victory, winning a prize of two-hundred mina and the King’s Favour.

An Eve of Jubilation 

Following the fearsome contest, the party will move towards the tavern. Drinks will be complementary, billed to the Crown, and all manner of games and drinking competitions will ensue, in and amongst the tavern and square.

Signed,

Her Royal Majesty, Emma Karenina Barbanov-Bihar, Queen of Hanseti-Ruska

Firr, Grigori Vyronov, Secretary to the Queen’s Council

That evening, having caught wind of the noble Dame’s death, Emma had knelt at the end of her bed. Praying, for her safe ascent. She let her eyes flutter shut, fingers tighten, as she implored God to protect the woman who had done so much for her family.

On the Koenas’ left nightstand, a single candle was lit, to burn for the Dame throughout the night.

Emma crumpled up the page, upon reading the commentary of her own family. She tossed it to her hermit crabs to use as bedding in their latest home. "Rotund? Rotund? By Godani, how many times do ea have to say she's WELL LOVED!"