PufferfishTrash

Wynith hugged her father back, laughing a bit as he sniffled, finding his words sappy but endearing. She'd gently pat her father's back, and when she was just about to reply, he spoke of Lords being weasels, and she rolled her eyes lightly. "Papa, it will be fine, I promise you have nothing to worry about, but oui, I am not sure if being that bundle is what you'd prefer me to be, as now I can really hug you back, I couldn't if I was still that bundle... and, I'm sure it'll be a great party." A bright smile was given as she tackled him with a hug in hopes that he would no longer be worried.

Please vote for one person and be sure to do so within the time limit! There will be three winners and prizes to pick from! Painting One! Submitted by Clement ( @ChillDemonLad) Painting Two! Submitted by Ipera Devereux ( @annanicole__) Painting Three! Submitted by Octavia Halcourt ( @Marz) Painting Four! Submitted By Inku Vierto ( @Festive Fate) Painting Five! Submitted By Theodora Devereux ( @Kabaffahp)

I am just seeing how this looks forgive me, I'm testing the post with the poll stuff.

Vivienne had gotten word of the news of such a joyous announcement by reading the papers. A thing she does often these days to keep updated with the goings on within the empire, gossip, actual news, and some important events, she reads nearly all of them. Though this one had struck a chord with her as she read the last paragraph of the missive. She was in the middle of eating her breakfast at Trier and stopped, setting her fork down, squinting as she re-read over the piece of paper a few times... She quietly excused herself from the table, sparing a glance at her Mother and Father before departing and heading upstairs to her room. She went to her desk and sat herself down as she opened a drawer, taking out a quill with one of her nicer pieces of paper, and she began to write a letter. A lot was on her mind, but she thought to at least reach out and say something.

Having plenty of time in reading over the letter, she had sat herself down near a fire pit in the capital of the empire, idly speaking to Sir Bryden at the time, a family friend of the Devereux. It had been on her mind, though she was most terrible with writing letters to people in reply, especially to people she didn't know well. As she took out a piece of paper and began to scribble a draft of a letter in response, Sebastien had approached, and they spoke, and then the incident happened of his foot being shot with a crossbow bolt. A few weeks had past and the like, and she had spoken with him a bit more and considered him a friend at least by this point, and so she finally sent her reply after much thought of thinking. "Dear Sebastien Jean-Chastel, I hope that this missive finds you in better health. Upon your request, despite our previous conversation, I am writing to you in turn. I thank you dearly for such congratulations on the official opening of my establishment, for it has been something I've been working on for a long time. I wish that my future is full, and with many joyful moments and plenty of friends to share in my success, as I hope the same for you and anyone whom I call a friend. This started as a passion project by my Lady-Mother, as told to me by my brother when he handed me the keys. It has been a long time coming, and I'd be more than happy to see you there along with my other friends. I look forward to their smiles and similar toasts. As for dancing, we shall see, as I am the one to be hosting that day." Sincerely, Vivienne Beatrice Devereux The letter was stamped with a light green waxy seal of a goose in its design, surrounded by grape vines.

Vivienne held the missive in her trembling hands, reading it over and over again under candlelight to be sure that there hadn't been any spelling mistakes after having Roswyn look it over and over again with her days prior, before having it made. Many thoughts plagued her mind. First among her thoughts was how the event was the first she'll ever be hosting, and with a friend, and how worries of failing, her worries of no one showing up, and her worries of disappointing her co-host kept her up for a few hours longer than she had wished, her candle having been burned only halfway before finally setting the piece of paper down on her desk, she decided to call it a night. A sigh left her as she extinguished the flame and went to bed, her mind only going to sleep when the birds sang just outside her window.

Celestyna Ludovar hadn't wished he had gone to this battle; she didn't want her other friends and siblings to go either. But finding that she couldn't find him as she had done in the past, how easily it was to see him and speak with him. And when those returned from battle, and not him... She would mourn, leaving herself locked in her room for a few days, quietly muttering to herself through her tears. "I should have told him that I knew, I shouldn't have been scared to say how I felt... I wish I had said so many more things, and I wish we had danced more." Celest would be dressed head to toe in black, mourning her lost friend, and perhaps her first love.

[Reserved]

A small, sad child runs around Aevos, putting up hand-drawn posters while asking those around herself if they had seen her Father, asking the following: "Has anyone seen my Paw? His name’s Cathan!” The girl would catch her breath, before continuing, “Granma says he's on trip but I don't believe her! He made a promise!" She paused before then adding, “A pinky swear even!”