MapleSunflower

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.

Rain fell from above the Silver State; nature mourned for the loss of so many lives. An umbrella protected an elfess robed in blue from becoming soaked by the pouring of tears from the sky. She had just heard the news from her adopted haelun, Ayliana. Standing in front of the Ni'Leya home, Cailin Ni'Leya remained still. "Was it really worth it, Uncle? To die a futile death? To allow them your life? Look at what they've done to our walls." Her fierce gaze remained forward. "You cried 'Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya'... and yet when we met last, before my tears for you had dried, you were cursing out an outsider... and here we are." Bitterly, the oem'ii turned on her heel and left, wisps of fabric flowing behind her with each step. The hem of her robes became soaked by the puddles under her feet. She would return home - Home to Miryaris.

A certain blonde woman was curled up on her bed with the book; only candlelight luminated the small bedroom. Taking in each inked word like a sponge, Madeline read it over and over again until her candle went out and left her in the dark. Laying back against her pillow, dark eyes stared at the ceiling above, "What a wonderful read!" Madeline exclaimed in a whisper. Twisting onto her side, the woman replaced the book into where it belonged on the shelf before laying to sleep for the night.

Dr. Primrose Gendik cried for the loss of her friend and fellow medic. On a windowsill in her Providence home was a table - lit with multiple candles and a bouquet of flowers - and yet the candle she held was special to her... The week was a tragic loss of many from all over, but the loss of Sixty-One would be one to haunt her for the rest of her years. Setting the white candle down, Prim lit a match and set the candle aflame. "Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya" She'd croak in sorrow.

An Orenian doctor read over the missive, tears spilled from her eyes. Another friend dead. "Sixty-One" Dr. Primrose Gendik exhaled, "May you find peace." Cailin Ni'Leya hadn't attended the storming - instead she stayed at home with her snelf brother, Miryaris. She didn't have the heart to partake - not today.

From behind her mask, Dr. Primrose Gendik let out a huff as she impaled a Haenseni woman with her longsword. Pulling the blade from the woman's stomach, blood gushed from her wound before collapsing to the ground dead. "It is much easier to break something than to fix it - thankfully these are not mine to fix - if there will be any wounded left."

Dr. Primrose smiled upon this day, for there was no work to be done. "Well done." She then returned to research on anatomy and physiology. Now was the time to study and prepare.