Proddy

USERNAME: proddiusmaximus FULL RP NAME: TRH. Robert Foltest Helvets, Baron of Helvets, IG (Imperial Grandee) HOUSE / FAMILY: House Helvets of Rochefort YEAR OF BIRTH: 1790

Robert Foltest smiles with a fleeting nostalgia as he finds his invitation marked as The Baron Rochefort, as he would legally be only The Baron of Helvets now. Regardless, he prepares a fine suit and polishes his boots - disinterested less in the Imperial Union but more to quietly observe the fanfare and spectactle of it all.

Recieving the flier whilst on a brisk eventing stroll through the streets of Providence, Robert Foltest the Baron Helvets ponders upon it deeply. Not averse to sampling a new pasttime, especially something as active and beneficial to his physical health as hunting, he swiftly pens a letter addressed to Emerentia Kovachev

Enjoy the break dude - clear your head and come back with a fresh perspective if you feel like it. We all need time off every now and again. I enjoy your RP a lot and I as well as many others can completely understand how this situation can be stressful OOC. Just know that you always have friends in this community no matter what (myself included)

Robert Foltest Helvets overhears of the public missive over a spot of tea and a cigarette in his Trissingham chambers - he swftly pens a letter to Owyn de Joannes inquiring of the location of the duel should the Prince Robert accept, eager to spectate the momentous affair.

reserved

Robert Foltest Helvets, the third Count Rochefort reads in the study of the Trissingham Estate, 1808. It had been a rarely quiet summers afternoon for the Rochefortine heir on this tremendously peculiar day. Granted a brief reprieve from his menial duties, Robert had quickly taken to his favourite pastime. Longing for a sense of escapism the young Helvets had found himself quickly residing within the Trissingham library, becoming lost in tales both factual and fiction as he nursed over a glass of Rochefortine Scotch. Disappointment soon overcame him as he found himself

Discord: Proddy#6458 Skin: Bewildering Burgundy Bid: 50

Somewhere within the Palace Augustine, Robert Foltest Helvets is delivered tidings of the High Pontiffs demise. Immediately he rushes to his chambers, taking a hold of a small disc and placing it carefully into a vinyl player. As the crescendo of music begins to play, Roberts mind is taken aback - that cursed day they had buried his grandfather where his Holiness had stood witness, and the tavern they had visited after as they had shared in their grief over copious amounts of gin and tonic. Waltzing about his room on his lonesome, he begins to quietly sing a small song in commemora

Robert Foltest Helvets, practically acting as the Count of Rochefort in all but legal name with his fathers long absence, smiles as he reads over his invitation. Sending his valet Phanagoras to prepare his finest suit for this blessed occasion, he eagerly awaits the day of his good friends wedding. Quietly settling into a daydream of his own soon after - an ideal wedding of his own which he hoped could come in some years.

Taking a meandering stroll through the Palace Augustine and coming upon the cursed spot where the meteor had struck through the wall, Robert Foltest Helvets brushes his lips with his fingers in concern. "This spectacle must of.... blown the court away." he remarks in a rare moment of dry, cynical humour - talking to nobody in particular, simply wanting to alleviate the frank direness of the situation. Shaking his head with concern, he steps away. Returning quickly to his somewhat safer lodgings in Trissingham.