Frostdrop1

Ser Audo Weiss traipsed his way back to his family through the slog of the battlefield, his armour scraped, dented and ruined from his various falls and recoveries within the battle. What injuries were upon him, part grave, would heal in time. And yet, he lived the day and his desire for vengeance for Her Highness, Veronica was sated.

Ser Audo Weiss sat in the dimly lit games basement of their - his - Valdev home. He took up the couch, laid across it as his arm draped over the side with a lifeless stillness as his gaze searched the ceiling for something of note. His unnatural gaze glowered as it always did, unforgiving and untelling of the mind behind them. Raising his arm, he brought his hand to his lips and, with them, a cigarette - a habit he'd given up many years ago. Holding the wisps for a moment, he gently huffed the swirled into the stale air. How long ago had it been since they met, on that ballroom floor? How long ago had it been since her quinceanera? How long had it been since their wedding? How long had it been since the twins were born? How long had it been since they said they would travel? The Paramount's gaze slimmed before it slid over the poorly-kept room. How happy he had been here - with her, whom cared for him so overtly, so unceasingly, when he could barely care for himself. It didn't matter whether he was loved, or hated and he had certainly bee everything in between. She was there. And now it was empty. For some time, her lack of return is something he'd known the worst of, and from then he merely waited confirmation. War was his life. Loss came with it. In public, all he need do was maintain appearances and do the duty that had devoured so much of his life. In private, he mourned. Upstairs, unopened Tuvsmas gifts sat upon the table, untouched. To the side, upon the table now thick with dust, sat a carefully folded letter with a broken seal and a fresh marigold laid across it. ~~~ Felyska simmered on the news. At first she didn't understand, and then she rejected it. And then she cried for the grandma that didn't judge her. And then she was angry. Never would she forgive those who took her family away.

Ser Audo Weiss was adamant and firm in that he could have helped his son, had only he known. Death was no stranger - he knew it well. He saw his brothers and sisters come to die, his father, too, and now, in some twisted sense of norm, his son of whom he was so proud. Stanislaw was The Golden Baby of Karosgrad. A miracle since his birth. Although, as his father, Audo always saw the baby boy he was. He remembered the days Stanislaw came down, play-fighting him in the halls of the original Staalgrav. He remembered the boy who odd, strange little occurances happened around - and the one who feared those strange happenings. He remembered comforting and guiding him. He remembered the mastery he gained and how proud he always was each time Stanis used his blessing for good and, even, just for a joke. He rememebered the times they drunk together - and the times they had to say goodbye. And now, to add, a final goodbye. He crumpled the note left to him and Veronica. "Ea didn't think that way of vy..." He croaked, having isolated himself. Promptly, with indecision, he unscrunched the letter and, instead, carefully folded it to keep. "...Ea dear boy. Va ve Maan..."

Ser Audo Weiss navigated the rubble from the strikes of the artillery. The squires and knights had rallied well, many manning the artillery early on which had wrought such destruction. He brought Wustenlowe fought, his poleaxe, which still gleamed red and raw and ready. "Va ve Maan." He muttered. Another war - another day. In some ways, it was all he knew. And in some more twisted way, he found it to be his place. His single gaze, distant, lacking his more personal self, peered out across the soldiers milling around. His knights - his squires - his son - his wife: he would have to catch up and ensure each survived the battle.

Ser Audo Weiss awoke with a start from the luxury of sleep that night. A jump; a sweat. Raising his hand, he pressed it to his chest as his gaze peeered about the dark of his chambers. After a few moments longer, he sucked in a reluctant breath. A dream. A nightmare. And how familiar it proved to be, after his cognitive mind had awoken enough to process his thoughts. Promptly, he was out of bed and for the first time in his life, he scribbled notes of the dream down into a journal. He glanced back, before he threw on his gambeson, warm lining and his armour. His helmet, of course, was slid on last to leave his solitary gaze glowering out and he stepped out from the doors of his home and into the ongoing storm to continue the search.

Ser Audo Weiss blinked at the missive with his singular, glowering gaze, before simply tossing it into a fire. "Orcs proving auwnce more their idiocy." He growled, "We don't even keep whole bodies in the crypt to steal. If Haus ever killed someauwn he'd have to have some semblance of bravery first!" He chuckled to himself at the thought!

MC Name: Frostdrop1 Discord: Frostdrop Image: Description of Image: The Weiss family portrait Dimensions: 3 wide, 3 high

Ser Audo Weiss slid his gaze over this missive as he sat back with something of a bittersweetness languishing in his gut. Perhaps he, rightly or wrongly, had begun to think of her in a daughterly fashion. Taking a breath, he lowered the parchment. How happy he could be for her, and yet disappointed that she would leave.

Ser Audo Weiss gave a subtle, pleased nod as Demitrey fulfilled his promise and he eagerly awaited a certain new weapon to add to his collection. He took up his own version of the letter, folding it to keep as a treasured apology given his way. "A little patience spares us all much hassle," He rumbled, "Ag our lives." His fingers drummed upon the folded parchment. "Ag perhaps ea exercised haste of mine own... eam niet without a friend in Demitrey yet. Ea'll see vy for for this bout soon, old friend." He grumbled though a faint smile traced his gnarled lips.

Ser Audo Weiss peered upon the invitation, dumbfounded. He had never even met this man, albeit Veronica had kindly informed him of the engagement. He slumped back into his chair as his mind cast back to the last attempt he made to talk with his daughter, though he promptly reached for his flask of Carrion Black. Warily, his singular gaze cast to the intended location. Minitz.

Ser Audo Weiss peered to the missive with some confusion for he had volunteered to aid the young Iduna in place of other Weiss and still sought to speak with her even with his dead sister repeatedly used to insult him and even found Iduna himself with Raelle. He reached for a quill, and issued his reply, his handwriting notably chicken-scratch upon the page as he pens it in his own hand: "Demitrey Denodado, A man who has abandoned his home and the blood he so seeks to defend. Young Iduna has been sorely misunderstanding of my aid as she has willfully lied to her own family to maintain her own direction in life before. I have strongly dissuaded her from the heresy of voidal magicks for fear of her health and faithfulness, and furthermore found her at the scene where Raelle was hid - something which we Weiss have niet taken lightly. It is a severe slight upon our family, a loss of yet another of our blood to vile and disgusting heresies that might otherwise have been saved, and her part in Raelle's straying from GOD should not be overlooked by any true Canonist. I will first seek to inform you of this: you are severely misinformed and have been lied to just as this young one did to the previous Countess. It pains me that a prior friend should drag my name through the mud - but there is little more to expect of a man who abandons their kingdom and knighthood. I accept your challenge and hope you are ready to pay with your life for your slander. Select your second, I will be waiting. Sincerely, His Excellency, Knight Parmount of Hanseti-Ruska, Ser Audo Weiss."

Ser Audo Weiss grimaced as he came by the missive on his travels. "... As if there could be such ideals in a place of debauchery." He grumbled skeptically, deeply unsettled as ever as he searched through the streets of Hokmat.

Felyska ran about the keep with a torn version of the letter. She hadn't ready it - but she'd certainly taken it and destroyed it. Ser Audo Weiss gave a faint chuff at seeing it. "Well, it was a dobry bout ag the lad has grown much these past few years." He smiled faintly, wishing him well in his writing and, hopefully, his knighting.

Ser Audo Weiss heard the news second-hand. Of course, he knew his sister sickly and unwell - as two of his sisters had been. How precious each were and how delicate they proved. He never did get to prove to her that she was strong - that she was capable. And once home, he yanked his plans for Sierra from his desk and binned them with haste. It seems he never quite finished them in what time he had allotted to the project, one built not from honesty but from the desire to let her win. And, even still, he had made a circled note to himself in the corner of the page to stock her medicine before any attempt. And now it was just him - and Haus. Haus and him. The two that failed to reconcile. The brick wall he met, and continued to bash his head upon. The older brother remained in bed the next day with a bottle of Carrion Black. Time was a crushing pressure that sapped his energy, and ever-more apparent with each loss. "...Why couldn't she live a little longer?" He asked, perhaps to himself, or to GOD, or whatever watched him in that moment.

The avid dancer, Ser Audo Weiss, took particular pride in the Zvaerdans and fondly recalled his variant with his daughter, Martina. Of course, it was one of the few good memories he had with her. However he was naturally more known for more flaunty and grandiose dances - although that was perhaps his pride at wishing to show off his partner. He leaned over the kitchen table of their new hope to Veronica, "Mm, Mi Amor? Perhaps we ought try some more traditional dances at the next festival?" @Bethinwonderland

Ser Audo Weiss finds this rather disappointing. What a blow to progress against the magical blight!

Ser Audo Weiss found himself to be exceptionally proud at having others recognise the hard of the Weiss. It would be unthinkable that he let his father's hussar past go to waste! Albeit, the diligent worker in him was admittedly miffed by the four stars even if it wasn't a bad score! He reached over to scratch the snout of his own White Comet, which, naturally, every Weiss was free to own.

Ser Audo Weiss looks forward to a glorious hunt for the last one he partook in was the final one of Karl III.

Ser Audo Weiss peered over the notice and promptly nodded. "The dobry Lady has done much for our kongzem. She deserves a long ag fruitful rest." His gaze lingered on the name of Cassian. He figured the boy might still have some things to learn, but he did at least seem promising as a friend. The eye of the Knight Paramount would be on this friend for the foreseeable future.

"To insult a king in his court, among his people. We ought to have torn this man to pieces ag yet our koeng sought him medical aid - a dobry soul." The Paramount grunted. "Let them come, ag let them face their inability; they send fools to do their dirty-handed tactics for goodness sake!"

[!] An open letter would be published, aiming to catch attention to some specific eyes, regardless of where they might be. To Disloyalty Naf zwy 1st hag i Vzmey ag Hynk i 500 E.S. To my most disloyal once-brother, Family is the basis of our very beings, our very values to which we are all inclined. It is the notion of family that my father, ever dutiful in his role to the kingdom, took upon his shoulders with the greatest of pride. And it is thusly he who imparted to me the values that I follow to this day, those which prompted me to pursue you with an open heart and those which saw me pen the Five Maxims of Pride for the sake of our later generations. It is then to my utter dismay that you, Haus, have failed to return efforts in kind, being firstly concerned with the matters of what can be done and secondly have shown yourself determined to avoid the bridge of understanding I have so directly and forwardly chased in these recent years. It appears that our Curse of Ambition, though plightful to my own mind, has driven you to abandon all that is good in this world as our forebears once did. As arduous and tedious as our journey has proven, none know it better than us. However, even with this shared plague I cannot afford you the time with which it would take me to understand your actions as of recent. Perhaps at one time, I could understand a yearning to be free and to subsequently set aside dutiful conduct in pursuit. Perhaps at one time, I could understand the weight wrought by the expectations of a young noble house and the alienation that comes with it and, furthermore, the desire to hide that which might draw ire. Perhaps at one time, I could understand wrath borne from decisions which do not favor yourself and appear to the outside for lack of a better term: bitterly cold. These fleeting ideas of understanding have absorbed my time, energy and empathy - and at one such time so extensively that I dare not think of what weakness might have corrupted my being had I lingered further. Even still, it is these ideas which have pre-occupied my time once again as I searched for you, as I found you, and as we shared words between ourselves which lighted my hope in a dangerous way. How foolish I have been. Perhaps it is I, desperately clutching at some menial hope, who has allowed you far too much leniency. Despite being removed from home and heart, you were never doomed to be removed from family entirely through the flawed inclinations of my emotion. This is one generosity you are no longer afforded for those stretching if you no longer have the whims or means to do so. It is these whims which you have ignored, and thus ignored the persons from whom your support came as I can only assume you blinded by your own entanglement. For years, I have wondered if full fault lay within myself and while I am sure I have part in it, it is you who has continually taken what kindnesses have been offered and utilized them to whatever gain has benefitted you the most, only to continue your path of destruction irregardless of consideration. Now your avariciousness has led you to a cliff: you have leapt. In all the time which I have endured your weeping hate, your manipulative manners, your heretical fascinations, each of these I have perceived as targeted at myself. In displays that I can only comprehend as self-destructive, I have watched as you have destroyed your body and soul against those that have warned you otherwise. However, this I can continue to endure. And yet, your latest atrocity is one I cannot leave unaddressed. It is your wife with whom I sat as she cried, and your daughters who languish in their questioning of ‘why’ that you have torn into with your fangs. History has a strange way of repeating itself when we do not take active steps to avoid it, and it is you, my entitled once-brother, who have taken not the steps of our father, but of our mother who so readily abandoned us. And even then, in the course of her own action, at least she had reason beyond a gluttony for more freedom. For the honor of your own family, the slander you have laid openly upon my name and the slander you have dared speak of the Weiss I challenge you to a duel. Select a yourself a second: I demand satisfaction for these wrongs. Your sincere once-brother, Audo Weiss

Even with that being true, it's a roleplay server and this is an attempt by non-bilinguals to imitate bilingualism because it's an inherent part of their character - obviously they're going to get it wrong just like how most other things on the server are portrayed inaccurately. It's strange and unusual to expect everyone to be a linguistic expert of code-mixing and then to call it appropriation when it's one of the most widely used languages in the world. Which culture is it supposed to be appropriating? Spanish? Mexican? Argentinian? American? Whether people choose to like it or not doesn't matter as much as a broader concept like appropriation,though, because that's just an opinion basis. People be as bitter as they like or don't like and that shouldn't really affect wider decisions too much. It might be wrong grammatically - but that's just being grammar police which I don't get the fascination personally.

But this is nonsense. Code-mixing is very normal especially in English and Spanish speakers. This is partly allowed, I suppose, by how easy they are to use interchangeably. The only word class that doesn't get swapped much, if at all, between said languages are determiners. But I mean it's also worth remembering that Spanish is a lingua franca, not a small language tied to a single culture.

Somewhere, a once common-born Knight Paramount was keeping curious track of the aspirant.

Ser Audo Weiss curiously stumbled upon the poem in his reading as he sought collections for the Weiss Library. With such a recent publication, his gaze drifted down the poem with a certain scrutiny. The Knight of course has seen this man in a poor light, immature and treating his niece as something to be won - something to which he would take no light opinion. However, as his lone, illuminated gaze fell on the last line he smiled behind his helmet. There was hope for the boy to grow yet.