TheBigBubbles

A gareishly pink clad woman interjects "Ohhh, come on. A little bit of nonesense in a title is FUN" she'd clap her hands together and spill mana sparkles everywhere. The woman then hopped up from her seat, "I'd even argue more! She needs MORE nonesense titles, until no government missive ever makes sense. I'm going to start a petition" the 'ker bolts out of the door on a mission to sow chaos.

Mircalla frowns "Always? Always affiliated? Oh Yes I sure do love the people that cursed me to look like this. Golly gosh. I love chaos and Iblees against all better judgement. Sure" The devil picked some dirt out from under her nail, she'd then fourish the note toward her son, "Look at that." - "If he was going to hunt me, he could have done it based on my last name... I did give him a full name" (Nice post by the way, I like it)

Robert's grandmother sighs in disappointment, loudly.

A certain child of his reads the missive with a big smile, tears in her eyes. The princess rushes to write her wife in all but name a letter.

APPLICATION FOR INTERVIEW FULL NAME: Blanca-Francisca De Pelear AGE: 26 PRIOR EXPERIENCE: (if any) Sieges, spars, hunting, spear-fishing, sailing METHOD OF CONTACT: (Discord name/Mcname) bubbles5614 (discord)

Aveline's mother sheds a tear at the name of the collection.

good luck

Lah'enna does a little dance

WANTED Tuvsmas-tree defiller REWARD 100 MINA Last seen in Vallagne current whereabouts unknown Contact Missus Annice Briggs with any information The criminal was spotted pilfering the pine in the centre of Vallagne under the cover of night. I, Annice Briggs attest to the horrific sight I saw that day. I’m a humble keeper, I had been visiting the city of Vallagne for brooms and knick knacks for my Liege Lord across the pond when I spied the head of a rabbit poking about the merchandise… Surprised by the sight, I quickly went to investigate. I saw a woman with a rabbit mask, in lavish silks slink off behind one of the stalls. I gave chase and the THING seemed to disappear periodically as if of supernatural origin. I hunted the creature until I came upon THE Tuvsmas tree in question. At this moment, the rabbit vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place. It struck me that what I had found was PROFOUNDLY wrong. Despite the fairy-tale-like retelling of following a rabbit through the city, the first thing that assaulted me was no woman, but a stench. Entrails of dubious origin were slung over the tree in place of lights and strange leathery pink ribbons had been tied to the limbs of the Yule-tree. I clutched my Marian cross and approached. A five-pointed star had been smeared upon the tiled ground in blood and underneath were the words “Yee faithful, worship not false-idols” . I crossed myself and hoped to GOD that I was not in danger. A dilapidated stuffed rabbit was also laying abandoned underneath the tree… I believe it to be some form of calling-card. I sought to investigate the city for any further clues, when I came upon posters in the same handwriting. The heathen doctrine is far too grim to recount, so I have simply attached them here. Read at your own peril. [!] The aforementioned letter is attached

A garishly pink Sorceress heaves out a black and tarry cough into her sheets while reading "Oh my GOD! That's me! Woooo! Mother I'm on the paper- Oh... Nalt- Oh... Freya I'm on the pap- Oh..." she wasn't sitting next to anyone to brag to.

Blanca reads the missive with a big ol' grin. The young princess raises her glass to toast to their longevity and health.

Blanca-Francisca De Pelear gets a flier to the face thanks to the wind.

A freshly eighteen princess of Hyspia roused from her slumber to view the missive. Blanca-Francisca de Pelear breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her father's name on the end and not her sister's. The child of peace and prosperity readied her scyfling war axe, given to her by her most dutiful 'friend'. She was ready for war.

A towering old hag smiles at the missive.

"Like the seagulls" murmured a woman who remembered fondly the tales of the demonic freeport seagulls.

An ancient Oyashiman looked over the invitation with mirth. Her elongated digits crumpled the sides of the paper as she sat by the fire in an oversized straw chair. The graceful matriarch of Hargrave watched as her younger children took turns whacking each other with various objects. The paper was neatly folded, and soon archived, "Grandchildren to come, in this very lifetime and it only took one-hundred and twenty-seven years" the woman shook her head with amusement, "I do hope he treats her well."

"Granddaughter" spoke a creature of the woods, hunched over the missive with a perplexed expression "What did I start?" the hag of the north donned her dress and her faux smile to make an appearance at her kin's big day.

Alf Vuiller smiles at the sight of the missive, "Good... Watching the horrors of that plane are enough to drive any man mad" the man pulled himself off of his bed with his gnarled sorcerer's staff, "I just hope they don't start harassing the poor 'sinners'"

One of the captured elves who had thankfully disappeared during the scuffle opened the doors to his unfurnished home. "Urguan at war wit' tae Vale" he'd mumble wobbling with every step. The fellow was dragged along by a mechanical emu. Shaking and dripping wet he'd grasp for alchemical lifeblood, "Frail fleshy husk... Frail... frail" he'd repeat with trembling hands as he assembled a clockwork skeleton. The elf was soon to be elf no more.

A 'young' blonde medic had been at the scene, subjected to tests just as Allessandra was. Searched for suspicious material, shouted at. Though, this was not what lingered on Elizabette's mind, the image that lingered was of the unborn child that she wept for. The child that she'd promised to care for regardless. The vampire that had passed had expressed deep worry for the safety of the child, safety that Elizabette had hoped to provide. She'd failed. I suppose that was the price the long-lived had to pay, seeing so many die. Though, the death of innocent beings was enough to spur something in the pale, old, Waldenian.

Sialuk Aavik, or Esteri Adrienne Sarkozic, now Vuiller had been by his husband's side when he had died. It hadn't all quite sunk in for them just yet, but the grief was certainly building to an intolerable amount. Eight children in total? Of course, not all of them were young anymore, but enough were. The half-dwed had wrestled for years with the idea that love simply wasn't theirs to have, pressured once into a marriage they did not want to pursue, and then respite, a true, deep love that they still did not feel worthy of. Sialuk found themselves making the argument that it was simply unethical to marry a longer-lived partner of their same race, a dwedic man or woman... It was certainly the argument they'd used when their mother slung abuses at them for daring to marry a none forest-dwed, a white man. Though, now the weight of that decision really set in, this was the first time they'd properly witnessed mortality, and it shook him to his core. His husband was really gone. The eldest son of Ledicort Vuiller, Alf Damianus Vuiller had attended mass when his father suddenly collapsed. Alf was fully aware that it was coming, but not that soon. With marriage plans underway and a wonderful fiance in Numendil he'd grown distant from his home country, his nation. And with it, his father. There was no particular pang in the man's heart, Alf retained much of his vitality and much of his resent. The letter he'd receive not long after the passing of his father could do little to mend a childhood of absence. Unreliant on his father for much of his life, now would not be so different. Alf only hoped that Ledicort would be comfortable, wherever it was that his soul had gone. Finally and ultimately, Alf prayed for his family in their time of grief. Meriwa would probably never know her father from anything more than the note he'd left at his death bed. The young girl had very little understanding of what her father who brought her into this world had gone through, and certainly was in no position to help. What Meriwa did keenly understand was her father's coldness, but not it's origins. It would be a lonely childhood without both of her fathers.