MapleSunflower

Very hyped for the new letter types. If there's a physical bird flying though, that's gonna suck for lag. Can't wait for my bird summons for a medic to be shot down though. I do adore the fact that there's a time depending on how close a person is. Very poggers, thank you techteam. You're doing amazin'

Got maidens? Favorite rp moment on one current personas and your earliest personas.

It brings be great pride that I am your forum signature Hieran do be looking fine too 👀

PRIMROSE GENDIK SNIFFS TOES Favorite ISA moment? Favorite CRP moment? Favorite Cooper moment?

Liberation A painting of Cailin in her early 20s. The Trials. It was all Cailin thought and sought. Dirt road traveled by foot or hoof, it mattered not where she went. She was in pursuit of freedom. Freedom from her childhood of homelessness. Freedom from the tug-of-war between families. Freedom from the War of Haelun'or and Fenn Freedom of the lies she had told. Lies to her family. To her friends. To her brothers. To her boyfriend. Cailin was fortunate and unfortunate. She had family, but they certainly didn't like one another. She was a Ni'Leya by blood, but a Valwynn by adoption. A child who had spent her youth alone sought the affection of her loved ones. Pulled from one side to the other, Cailin was a pawn. Cailin didn't know her mother or father, but she loved her adoptive Mother, Ayliana Valwynn. She taught her manners. She taught her basic elvish. She gave her a glimpse of joy in the darkness. Cailin didn't know her mother or father, but she loved her Uncle, Braxus Ni'Leya. He taught her what it was to be a proud mali'thill. He taught her to not eat too much sugar. He gave her a roof to sleep under. It was Ivarielle who inspired her. Who piqued her interest. That was when the lies began. That was when she moved From the island of warmth to the snowy mountains. Cailin never had brothers or sisters, but she loved her adopted brothers. Connak and Miryaris. Connie taught her how to play. He taught her to appreciate the cold of the snow. He gave her something to laugh about. Mirya taught her not to jump off of roofs. He taught her how to make a snowman. He shared his warmth when she was frostbitten. A snowball to the head. A forget-me-not pressed to preservation. They didn't have money, but they had love. But unfortunately that doesn't pay the taxes. Nor does it win a war. Cailin, defeated, returned home. The war was over. Haelun'or was independent and Celia'nor was formed. She was barely 20 when she met her Uncle again. But even then, the lies grew bigger. Cailin was no longer a child soldier. Taking interest in the Lectors, she travelled to Du Loc. She seeked solace, not salvation... But maybe what she really needed was therapy. The Path of Owyn. Day One: Pilgrimage. Day Two: Sitting in front of the Eternal Flames. Day Three: Read the Scroll of Spirit written by Owyn. Day Four: Confession. Day Five: Quest to repent for sins. She didn't get to finish. She had much to confess. But she did confess. To the El'Sohaer. To her Haelun. She didn't get to finish. It was on the road to Du Loc that she fell upon trouble. Cailin found herself homeless once again. She'd always sleep on the bench across from the pyre. She never made it to her unconventional bed alive. Instead, her body was dumped there. All that was left were the letters she had written. Her final thoughts as the blood stained her pale blue robes was a man. A man with auburn hair and golden eyes that radiated like the sun. Voldar Heartstring-Vanari. Voldar taught her how to love. He taught her to not be afraid of her true self. He gave her hope. She lost her sight, but she could still see him. She lost her hearing, but she could still hear him. And she finally lost her feeling, but she could still feel him. The sight of his beauty. The sound of his sweet voice. The warmth of his supporting hand. Cailin was dead. The letters would be found and sent off to her loved ones. Perhaps it was with these letters, Cailin would achieve her full confessions and succeed in her Trial. Ayliana Valwynn Braxus Ni'Leya Lectors of Du Loc Connak Miryaris Voldar Heartstring-Vanari

Dr. Primrose Gendik smiled widely at the missive sent all over Almaris. She hung it on the wall of the Oren clinic for all present medics and prospective medics to see!

Dame Primrose Gendik laidup in bed late upon one night, crocheting a baby blanket with the banner of St. Lothar for one of her many new grandchildren. Her hands were always kept busy. She had recently crafted a new leg for her husband, made from alchemical clay and grafted onto the leg he lost. A sacrifice for the service. Prim recalled when he told her that the ISA’s scar upon his life all laid on that atronach limb he wore in its place. After a year, his leg will turn from sculpted alchemical clay to real flesh and bone. Her hands were always kept busy. The grandmother recalls the night royalists stormed Vuillermoz and brought harm upon her daughter. While the young children were spared, her grown daughter was beaten and battered - shot. She had saved them from certain death, only for battle to still ensue… Blood poured from descendants’ ears and eyes, a dirty trick a certain Ruthern had achieved. Had he not done such a spell, the Primrose would have spared his and all the loyalists lives. Once assured her daughter and the children would be assured safety, she opened the door to the room Ivan and the others had retreated to. The battle would be over. Ivan’s death was her own doing, but he still managed to do her in good - a stab wound to the gut. And yet, Her hands were always busy. She didn’t think about The Duke of Reutov’s death. Her gaze turned to her husband, Sir Arthur Komnenos, deep asleep at her side. The clay-grafted leg supported under the throw blanket. Dr. Primrose smiled, a hand going to stroke at his dark hair. “From the earth we come, and to the earth we go.” It was them her silent crocheting continued. She wondered if she had paid the taxes…

Matviy Artem Rahoul Kortrevich wails, because he is a baby with a poor, upset stomach… And then the baby blessed his father, spitting up all over him. He may need a new cloak.

Glancing away from the book she read, Dr. Primrose Gendik read over the missive the ward showed her. The woman chuckled, a hand resting on Aldrych's head softly. "Spoooky Castle!" Prim chimed in to the boy she considered her own son.

Dr. Primrose Gendik covered her mouth as a soft “Oh” was whispered upon reading the poem. She set the missive into her journal with a weighted sigh, “Poor Borris…” The woman headed into the dining hall of St. Lothar to prepare a comforting and calming tea for her “adopted son”. There was a long conversation to be had.

Good post. ngl

Within the confines of the Huntshill-Novellen estate, a certain raven-haired Countess seethed over the open letter. Hidden away from the world for years, Isabella Marie vas Ruthern Huntshill-Novellen practically frothed by the mouth in rage upon coming to realize what her kin was up to. Her father was dead. Her daughter was dead. And now her only son brought her unfathomable shame. How she deplored her children. The darkness of her inherited curse choking her mind further. The only light in her life… her husband and her grandson.

Cailín Valwynn raised a curious brow as she recognized a name within the missive. “Braxus? Really?” She said with disappointed surprise. “I cried for him once… and yet he turned to scold another mali’ for coming to the city.. He thought he was going to die… and with his bigoted, closed-minded views close to his heart.” The young mali’thill glance to the citadel, her lips tugged into a frown. She grit her teeth as the missive was clutched tightly in her hand. “Such hateful people disgrace Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya.”

"Would you like a new eye, Doctor?" The man's voice said within the surgical room's walls. "We can make you one. What color would you prefer?" Dr. Primrose Gendik jolted as gislocinovi oil was squirted into the empty eye socket after she was treated by her mentor, Lector Danzen. Her good eye opened to glance towards the first man's voice, Lector Stor Vuiller, and gave him a thankful smile. "I appreciate your offer, my friend, but I will have to decline for now." The single brown eye turned to her husband in the corner. "Scars aren't a bad things, after all." It was much easier to break something that to fix it. To break something only took a few mere seconds - the Staff of Homa only had to pierce her eye within seconds for Primrose to lose it. To fix it... well, this was something that couldn't be "fixed". No glass eye could replace what was lost... Nothing could replace the life she took away either. And yet when Viktor Romstun had allowed her to treat her eye before being taken to the city hall, she smiled to him. She forgave him. Prim knew it was coming for her, just not when. Anyone in their right mind would have done it for someone they loved too. Wouldn't you? And so, it was an even deal. An eye for a life.

A tingling sensation bugged a certain Doctor's nose as she sat in court. A missive had been passed around to those attending to read - and she did - but she really didn't care much. With time running out, she had to find something to catch the explosion drawing near! Taking the missive, she brought it to her nose, releasing a gross, booger-filled sneeze. She wiped her nose with the parchment before throwing it away with a relieved sigh.

Cailin Valywnn glanced up at the notice board in the Silver State. Holding onto her headband so it could not fall off, she would read the missive posted. "Oh!" She gasped, "That's my haelun! Seems like we were on the same page about this!" The young elfess, due to her excitement, starts to dance in the streets of Haelun'or.

Behind Haelun'or, a young high elfess and an an elder snow elf made their way to the ocean, their feet sinking into the sand with each step. She held onto his hand - just as she had done since she was a child - and paused just a few feet away from the water's edge. Cailin Valwynn looked up to her brother, Miryaris, with a beaming smile. "You can finally show me how to swim, mal'onn. No one will harm you here, and you can come and go as you please."

Cailin Ni'Leya read over the missive, jumping round in excitement! "I knew she could do it! I knew she could do it!" She squealed, hugging the parchment close - as if it was her mother there.

The thesis been been left in the mailbox of the Vernhart Residence to be retrieved by the woman of the house. Madeline Vernhart set the mail on the kitchen table and slowly took a seat. Bearing a child, the blonde often found herself weaker and pained. Madeline took the cup of bitter reed and honey tea in hand as she started to read. Upon finishing it, the woman gave a nod, “The last thing I expected was my little brother to join the church - perhaps little Luddy will make Ma and Papa proud… It will certainly make Grandpa Johann and Saint Harald happy.”

A certain blonde read over the flyer she had been given, a beaming grin growing on her lips. She glanced down to her husband, who was hard at work at his desk, adoring how the eyes behind those glasses were fixed upon his papers. “Well-written, Iulius,” Madeline Vernhart hummed, “I hope you get elected. You’re a hard worker… speaking of which, may I get you a cup of tea?”

Dr. Gendik sat in the basement of her home, the little clinic room she had set up didn't get as many patients as the public clinic. Often times, she was the patient. The doctor had arrived with medicine to give the dying priest to ease his pain, yet he refused. She respected his wishes, and yet... she felt like she was the one who needed it. So many had died, strangers, comrades, family alike. The woman was only a few years younger than the Cardinal and yet she started to feel her age. Not in her bones nor greys nor wrinkles, but in the lives she had to witness end. Primrose had accepted she was no longer that 20-year-old naïve woman in Old Providence, but the losses of some of her oldest friends pained her. Prim let herself sit alone for some time before she rose from the cot and headed out of the home to the Basilica. She had many names to pray for, why not another? Another friend to meet when it was her time...

Madeline read over the missive with a utterly confused expression upon her features. She glanced over to Iulius reading behind her before throwing it in the fireplace.

A Belt of Twine and Ivy Holy Matrimony of Iulius Vernhart and Madeline Rose 17th of Julia and Piov, 416 E.S. Only Us Time is an irrelevant concept As I look down into your deep, brown eyes. A face I first saw when I was inept This love I found, to my joy and surprise. We walk through endless hoops together. However difficult, we choose to withstand. Our lives, our hopes, our losses, our joys, are now tied by a tether. "I have one condition on our courtship, Iulius." A soft voice spoke to the man before her. "I-If I am to be your wife someday, I want to be betrothed to you just as another Haenseni woman would." The blonde woman looked to the leather-bound book in her hands, a thumb marked the page of interest. Shakily inhaling, Madeline read aloud, "The Verevka belt is made of ivy and twine and is presented privately by a suitor to their lady to seek the permission of her hand in marriage. It must be fashioned of material gathered in nearby woodlands, twisted together by the hands of the suitor and blessed by a priest to be considered a legitimate offering." "Its knotted form represents the partnership the two share, entwined together much like the ivy into a strong girdle, and reflects the binding vows they will soon swear." Iulius listened to his beloved lady as she read from the book. "Vy wish for eam to make vy one of these, da?" He asked with an inhale, watching her. Reaching forward, he pushed her hair up and behind her ear. "For if vy wish it, ea will do it." ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ The lantern's flame flickered over the couple's features as a box was set into Madeline's lap. Her dark brown eyes glanced upwards to Iulius, a hand going to remove the lid. Madeline's eyes went wide. Carefully, her hands reached to take the belt of twine and ivy from the box; a thumb ran over a green ivy leaf. "A verevka belt..." She breathed in awe. Tears started to well in her eyes. "I-" Her lips tremebled as she forced her tears back. Smiling brightly at Iulius, she said, "Spasiba... Spasiba, Iulius." Dear Friends, Family, and Loved ones, You are cordially invited to the wedding of Firr Iulius Vernhart and Firress Madeline Rose. The wedding will take place at the Karosgrad Basilica. We hope you can be a part of our special day. Formal invitations are extended to the followed Haenseti peerage: His Royal Majesty, Sigismund III, King of Haenseti-Ruska and his royal pedigree. The Right Honorable Johann Ludovar, Count of Otistadt, and his noble pedigree. The Honorable Nikolai Kortrevich, Viscount of Jerovitz, and his noble pedigree. Special Invitations: Her Royal Majesty, Emma Katarina, Queen of Hanseti-Ruska. His Serene Highness, Lucien I, Prince of Savoy and his royal pedigree. His Grace, Eirik Baruch, Duke of Valwyck and his pedigree. Her Ladyship Diana, Mother of the Bride, and her esteemed pedigree. His Lordship Rev, Father of the Bride, and her esteemed pedigree. His Lordship Josef Ludovar Pyotr Joren Ludovar Milo Kuznetsov Joseph Beckett Signed, Firr Iulius Vernhart Firress Madeline Rose

Dr. Primrose Gendik appreciates the new tenant. The Baroness nods in approval at his newfound home.

Cailin Ni'Leya approved of this fashion article. She herself wore the traditional style, but enjoyed the variety and diverty of all the sty;es that could be seen in Haelun'or.