tcs_tonsils_

I have honestly found debate rp the most fun- Duma, negotiations for peace, setting up trade stuff between nations.

1: Two maps ago (2019), I was an advisor for a House - House Snow, that had gained nobility status in Haense. I was put in charge of figuring out a lot of things for the house, one of which, was the setup of the new keep. I really wish I could go back to that, because I know the one I set up was so, so ugly. All cobblestone with no variation. I shivered just thinking about it. 2. Over the vast number of years, probably the one thing I have learned is take time for a situation to develop in rp. A lot in my earlier years, I tried to force situations and didn’t enjoy when things didn’t go my way. I have learned to be more patient- though, I still have a lot to work on. 3. Honestly, I am very proud of what I have been able to do with Iulius. Jovenaar, Steward, Court Tutor, Governor, etc - Family and more. I have enjoyed rping him and glad to see where he had been and where he is going. 4. Obviously the Aulic Councilor one. 5. Harald is one of my favorites.

1. I can say, with about 85- maybe 86% certainty that I do, in fact, have maidens. 2. Favorite Rp moment on my current character: Honestly, it has got to be falling off the roof of a building and landing in front of the person who was to be my on Iulius Vernhart. It was the first genuine rp I had on Iulius for a few weeks and the whole situation was ridiculous, yet still lead to great things. 3. Favorite Rp on ancient Characters: It was working on a plan to overtake Kal’Urguan from the cultists back in 2014. While I didn’t really know what was going on, to be a part of something so grand was a pleasure. 3. Most notable experience has got to just be Chagrin Frostbeard and the Black Riders of Urguan. I still have people msg me every once and a while talking with me about it and how cringe it was. It is all a good laugh now. 4. Favorite Clara moment has got to be playing cards and eating strawberries. Very fun and cute rp. 5. Cheese on pancakes? If Godan commands it, sure, why not.

Hey, y’all. So I have been around quite a while, and while it hasn’t been a constant grind, I have witnessed a great many things. Seeing as how I am exactly half way through my 7th year of being apart of LOTC, I though- why not do a AMA. So go ahead, ask me anything.

Selection of Poetry - Vol. 12 3rd of Msitza ag Dargund, 425 E.S. [!] A portrait of an adult Borris Iver Kortrevich “Deliver Me from My Sorrow” I waste away. I waste away. Taken aback by such a sorrowful thing, Once a mighty oak, grime has left its ring. Please, someone take this bitter taste away. I break, one which was so chaste, away. I have brought me ruin, I am my own downfall. Consumed by the aches of defeat, not a bridge, a wall. And so it is no surprise that you go, in haste, away. “Sun Sets on a Young Lord” You are cold to the touch. Eyes glossed and gray. What vibrance once held in Those now pale cheeks. Yet you look to be at peace, Face not twisted or gnarled, It holds expressionlessness. Despite the end you suffered. A Lord of green and blue A squire till the end of days. A man of great boldness. Shall you sit peacefully in the Seven Skies. “Ballad of the Strength of Men” Why shall we do it when the walls fall to ruin? Are we unable to see the light of a better day? No, we are not so wearried by the confusion. We shall trudge on, either to victory or to the fray. Onward and upwards, children of Godan. Till every last man may feel the warm sensation of the sun. Onward and upwards, children of Godan. The duty of every last father and every last son. So march, march, into glory and honor. We move our feet to the drum’s beat. Break through the nerves, battle through the horror. For this is the realm of the brave, we shall not suffer defeat. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich KML, Battle-Bard of the BSK and Court Poet of Haense

A Rose in the Snow Chapters IV-V [!] A portrait of Borris Iver Kortrevich 11th of Tov ag Yermey, 425 E.S. Chapter IV Borgitta was right where she should be, back in her tower room, surrounded by her vast collection of books and nick-nacks that lined the bookshelves. It was raining outside. It was not like the warm summer rain that she loved to go stand out in when he was younger, it was rather a colder, darker, winter rain. It was mid-Amber’s cold, and while the winter had mostly brought on heavy snow, today was unusual. Everything was dark till a flash of lightning stretched across the clouds above. Twisting her body so that her feet touched the ground, Borgitta let out a soft sigh. She stood up, rubbing her eyes as another flash of lightning lit up the sky. She watched as the candlelight danced on the walls of the room, a perpetually moving orange glow. Everything was orderly in the room, her brother's old room, which had always been a complete chaotic mess. Borgitta kept his room rather organized and clean. It had already been a year since Andrik had passed away but Borgitta still felt the heaviness of it every once and awhile. She continued to stare at the shifting light, her mind fuzzing a bit. As always, her eyes glossed over, yet, despite the well that had accumulated, she was not one to cry. However, at this moment, a single tear fell down, staining her pale cheek. a bit as his eyes glossed over. A single tear fell down her face as he looked at the reminder. Hastily, she wiped her cheek with a sleeve before hopping up. She moved to the stairs- she wished to stay, but there was work to be done. Too much work was needing to be done. Borgitta’s meeting was on the other side of the palace, and it was just her luck that the palace was longer and narrower than most of the other buildings in Dravistadt. In fact, being where she was at the top of a spiral in the palace, it could take upwards to 10 saint’s minutes to make it to where she needed to be depending on how crowded the hallways were with working staff. As she walked down the final long hall, she became cold and uncomfortable. Something overtook her, an odd feeling that she could not quite place. Borgitta paused, her eyes scanning the room- every inch of it. There was nothing. No servants greeted her as she had made her way throughout the castle. No maids asked if there was something she needed, despite her rush from one end of the building to the other. Even as she had come within yards of the room, Darius, their esteemed governor, was nowhere to be seen. Odd. She thought, slowly taking a step forward. Darius alvays vaits for eam before this meeting. She continued moving towards the door. The hallway felt darker, as if it was all of a sudden shrouded in some sort of shadow. Borgitta took a step back, rubbing her hands along her arms to try and warm herself up. This didn’t feel right… she didn’t remember this… However, as soon as it came, it vanished. Borgitta shook her head. This was nothing, he knew it was nothing. Putting her index finger in the air, bobbed her head from side to side. Then, she spoke clearly and reaffirming. “Everything es fine.''Unlike her unusual voice, this one had a higher and thinner tone of voice. But there was something… A loud noise sounded the moment she entered the room. Just as the hallway had been, the room was completely dark until the noise sounded. Then, at that moment, orbs of blue fire sprang forth from multiple places around the room. Yet, even with the flame, the room was still dark. Unaided by the light coming from any of the covered windows, it was hard to tell who was in the room. However, as eyes adjusted, Borgitta made out a grayish blob that sat in the chair across the room. A humanoid shadow looming at the edge of the space. They sat with elbows resting on the table. Left arm was up, allowing their forehead to rest on their palm. The shadowy form stared through the table, letting the soft brown, scratched wood become a distorted and fuzzy brown. The distorted bells of the chapel came and went, their echoes bouncing off the blocked windows. “Vhat es thes?” Borgitta asked, a shiver once again enveloping her. Yet that was all she could ask as she felt her eyes grow extremely heavy. Then she felt herself falling. Time slowed as she made her descent towards the ground. However, in this, she could have sworn she saw the figure rising. Then, there was nothing. Yet there was something strange- a warmth. The warmth was an unexpected pleasure. Borgitta closed her eyes, stretching, body arching as before hitting the ground. Still, there was nothing but this warmth. Exhaust and something else took over- too strong for her to fight. So she didn’t. Chapter IV He leaned on the wall, staring blankly at the board several feet in front of him. He tapped the pocket on his pants lightly to the beat. The music that was playing consisted mostly of an upbeat melody led by the main piano and accompanied by a harp. It came through a small window. A circular table sat in the center of the room. Seconds later a smooth female voice from the outside began singing along with the flowing sounds of the harp. Seconds after that, he joined. He sang along in a low tone. His voice was gruff, deep, and severely offkey. The room he was in wasn’t too big, there was a medium-sized circular table in the middle, paired with a dual set of chairs. In the back right-hand corner was a dark wooden desk, papers scattered on top. In the middle of the back wall, the wall that was left of the one which he was currently leaning on, was a singular window. To his right was an oak wood door. “Vy could have been a little more discreet” A voice came from the corner. Callum looked over to the man sitting at a chair by Callum’s desk. He tilted his head, giving him an odd look. “How? How could Eapossibly have used any more discretion with that bomb?” “Vy could have not used it.” He said, staring straight up at the ceiling. “Everything that we have done, she was gonna ruin it had we not continued. How would vy say we continue?” Callum asked. The man shrugged before rocking back and forth and standing up. “Good question.” He smiled. Moving to stand by the window, his back turned to Callum. His long black hair ran down to his shoulders. He wore a dark blue shirt with black plants although they fit him weirdly, his pants being slightly too tight for his body and yet his shirt was just slightly too large, causing his shirt to fold over on itself. He was shorter than Callum and not as well built as Callum was considered to be. Glaring out the window, he looked at the smog that had overtaken the forest. “Why are vy here?” he asked, not bothering to turn. “What?” Callum replied, narrowing his eyes at the man. “Eamean why are vy still doing this?” He turned, staring back at him. His sharp brown eyes pierced Callum. He shook his head. “vy really think that? After everything that has happened, he would still be able to just… trust vy? What makes vy think he would be willing to give anything at all, let alone the thing vy are looking for? After everything that vy did.” He yelled, clearly frustrated by his thought process. He then began walking back over to the desk. “What Eadid? What Ea did was save his life.” Callum snorted, his voice slightly raised. “What vy did was ruin his life and then felt guilty.” He said, crossing his arms. Callum felt silence for a few moments, glancing back towards the window. “Why are vy here, Andrik?” Andrik was still staring at him when Callum met his gaze. “Time am running out and this is not going to go over like vy hope it will.” “Oh and why not?” Callum huffed. “He has nothing, yet he still outsmarts vy at every turn.” Andrik snorted, shaking his head. “He will not this time.” Callum’s eyes were firmly set on Andrik. “And when vy meet again- when he figures out what vy have done... If he doesn’t comply, what then?” Andrik asked, tapping the desk lightly. Callum opened his mouth as if to say something. He didn’t. They sat in silence for a few moments before Callum did finally speak. “Then Ea will do what Ea need to do..” “Do vy ever get tired of doing that?” Callum asked, his finger resuming to tap the table. “No.” Andrik responded bluntly. He continued to peer at Andrik for a while before turning and looking at the window. He watched as the grayish mass enveloped all clearness. “vy know…” Suddenly, the door flung open. Callum spun quickly, his hand reaching down to his thigh. He pulled out a set of knives as Dedrick walked into the room. Callum frowned, his eyebrows narrowed. He let his hand drop to the table, resting the knives on the wood. “What are vy doing here, Dedrick?” “We have a problem,” He said, swinging the door shut and sitting across from Callum. He set his bag on the table as well and clicked it open. Dedrick picked up an eviction notice and threw it down on the table. “Yam not sure what vy want eam to do about this?” He asked, visibly confused. “Get the money- now.” Dedrick replied. As he did, he sat back in his chair and crossed his leg over his knee. “Eado not believe that is a good idea, Ea need more time.” Callum spoke flatly. “Oh? And Why not?” Dedrick asked, sounding slightly amused. Callum didn’t respond but rather just continued to stare at him. “vy get him, vy get paid, simple as that… or did something change in the last several hours that Ea should know about?” Callum just barely nodded, glancing back down at the photos before him. Dedrick stood, closing his bag as he pivoted to face the door. He opened it and stepped out before glancing over his shoulder as if expecting Callum to say something. He didn’t. Dedrick shook his head and left, closing the door behind him. From over Callum’s shoulder, Andrik burst out in laughter. Callum turned sharply and gave him a dead stare. Andrik shook his head, calming his laughter just slightly. “Well, there vy go… Ea always told vy that vy would have to eventually have to face him.” “I…” Callum paused. “Just go, leave eam alone.” Andrik smirked. His haunting voice echoing in the room. “vyr reckoning comes.” “Leave eam alone!” Callum yelled fiercely at Andrik as he picked up the knife and hurled it at him. The blade flew through the air, the soft ringing as it went. It hit the stone wall with a loud crack, chips of stone and metal breaking and flying all around. The dagger plopped onto his bed, still once more. Callum breathed deeply and stared at the wall. He was alone. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich KML

Jerovitz Poetry Slam - Double Take 6th of Tov ag Yermey, 425 ES Once upon a time, Jerovitz held a poetry contest to commemorate the few works of Borris Iver Kortrevich and to push for more poetry from the community of Haense. Nearly 12 years later, Sir Borris has still been releasing his poetry in full to the people of Haense. As both a celebration of his 15 or so years of work, as well as his induction into the Order of Queen Maya and the Lily, Jerovitz wishes to once again host a time where the people can gather and share their own works with each other. I. CONTEST With renovations to Jerovitz well underway, we would like to invite all of our guests to the gardens of the keep. There, we shall have each participant choose one or two works which they like the most. A panel of judges will be constructed to nominate a winner at the end of the event. Each piece will be scored based on the creativity, structure, and overall artistic value of the piece. First place winner shall receive a sum of 150 mina, the second, a sum of 100 mina, and third, a sum of 50 mina. II. PUBLICATION Regardless of one’s placement, all the judges recognize that each poem is a work of art that should be celebrated. That is why each piece, if its owner wishes, will be collected at the end of the event and woven into a volume. This volume shall be published to the people of Haense. THE HONORABLE, Nikolai Mikhal Kortrevich, Viscount of Krusev HIS LORDSHIP, Borris Iver Kortrevich KML

Iulius Vernhart blinked. “Why.”

Despite not being able to attend the important meeting to decide the future, Borris Kortrevich smiled at his invitation,

Borris Iver Kortrevich watched as the body fell from the mouth of the crowdrake. Perhaps it was skill that had landed him that shot- but no, surely Godan had intervened. Hastily, as if it was the only thing he could think about, Borris picked the body up and threw it over his shoulder. He made his way back up the mountain, yet decided to duck inside a crag. The body was careful set on the stone. Yet the young Lord did pause in this moment, for what he was not sure. Mustering up something, Borris examined the poor mangled body. Tattered cloth of green and blue. Mud stained blonde hair. The Kortrevich exhaled deeply before calling out to the others. “Et’s him. Et’s Konstanz- we have him” The words were but bittersweet. Borris removed his cape and wrapped it tightly around the body. Once more, he bent down to pick up the body before making his way to the crest of the hill.

The Ballad of Two Flowers C. 424 ES [!] A portrait of the young couple on their wedding day. “You are” Blissful, brilliant, you are beautiful. Melodious, majestic, you are moonlight. Enticing, entertaining, you are enchantment. Stunning, stellar, you are starlight. VA VE EDLERVIK, In continuation to the multitude of weddings that have consumed the post-Lifestala season, Lord Borris Kortrevich and Lady Eileen Baruch are pleased to announce that a date has been set regarding the anticipated union of the two. I. CEREMONY To take place in the month of 12th of Wzuvar ag Byvcaes within the Karosgrad Basilica, wherein the couple shall say their vows under the ever-watching eyes of Godan. II. GARDEN PARTY AT JEROVITZ Following the Ceremony, all citizens of the Dual-Kingdom are invited to come and participate in an extravagant celebration at the fields of Jerovitz. Food and drinks will be provided throughout the party by the amazing Jerovitz staff. A multitude of different games and activities will be set out to enjoy at one’s leisure. FORMAL INVITATIONS ARE SENT TO THE FOLLOWING: His Royal Majesty, Sigismund III, King of Hanseti-Ruska and his noble pedigree His Grace, Eirik Baruch, Duke of Valwyck and his noble pedigree The Right Honourable, Johann Ludovar, Count of Otistadt and his noble pedigree The Honourable, Nikolai Kortrevich, Viscount of Krusev and his noble pedigree SPECIAL INVITATIONS ARE SENT TO THE FOLLOWING: His Holiness, Tylos II, High Pontiff of the Church of the Canon His Serene Highness, Karl Sigmar, Grand Prinzen of Hanseti-Ruska Her Serene Highness, Amicia de Joannes, Princess-Consort of Sedan Her Highness, Klara Elizaveta, Prinzenas of Hanseti-Ruska His Highness, Lucien, Prince of Savoy His Lordship, Arthur Komnenos, Baron of St. Lothars and his noble pedigree Her Ladyship, Adele Ludovar His Lordship, Jakob Dimitrey Firr and Firress, Godric and Makenna Colborn EXTRA SPECIAL INVITATIONS ARE SENT TO THE FOLLOWING: His Lordship, Matyas Baruch Her Ladyship, Freya Baruch His Lordship, Eugen Barclay Her Ladyship, Idunn Edvardsson Ruric Firress, Cecilya Kotov His Excellency, Eirik Matyas Baruch, Lord Palatine of Hanseti-Ruska, Duke of Valwyck, Count of Ayr, Baron of Gant, Laval, and Riveryn, Lord of Jorenstadt, Guardian of the Hanseti Coast The Honorable, Nikolai Mikhal Kortrevich, Viscount of Krusev, Baron of Koravia His Lordship, Borris Iver Kortrevich KML Her Ladyship, Eileen Baruch

Thomas’s Komnenos read the following passage about loud to himself in his study: “The inquisition is not a corrupt tool of petty nobles to disappear pesky commoners.” Confusion overtook the man’s features as he continued to read. “The Inquisition is not a corrupt brute squad to go out and silence opposition.” This actually made the lad laugh as he scanned the rest of it before looking over to his sleeping daughter. “Seems funny to me, my little one, that someone of such importance would assume we were just using them to rid of of such a small, what did they call it? Oh- annoyance. Right, well… No justice for your cousin in which this woman brutally murdered by intoxicating herself- no doubt, many times. I do not condone my mother’s actions, but I do wish I was there to watch.”

“Union of House Carrion” [!] A depiction of the betrothed pair shortly after Amadea’s return 7th of Vyzmey ag Hyff, 424 E.S Behold, a long awaited union. Behold the ones who will be seated upon the throne in time. Their marriage shall signify the glorious continuation of a prosperous nation. A sign to all those who may see it, that we shall thrive, just as they shall thrive. Behold our next king. Woe to those who do not know the might of House Barbanov, Their leadership has kept Haeseni-Ruska together. Their lineage has been the one which we all strive to protect. Behold our next queen. Unfortunate is the one who does not know the history of House Basrid, For it is by their own hard work that they have gained their position and title. Their lineage have served many a king and empire, and served in their own right.. Behold, the long awaited return, Two descendants of kings and queens long past, from the same lines they have Come, and to the same line they shall now return. Two beans, Born of the same plant, yet of different stems. They now are intertwined. Behold, a long awaited reunion, The separation of a house Carrion now finds refuge together. Royal lines have split, yet their diligence and work is not to be forgotten. So we find ourselves together in their wake for this long awaited union. Signed, Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich, Battle-Bard of the BSK and Court Poet of Haense

The Tale of Ser Walton 6th of Jula ag Piov, 424 E.S. [!] A portrait of Ser Walton dawned in his armor. A poem commissioned by Ser Walton, depicting his glorious hunt for a Prairie Dulk and the subsequent fight he had to endure. The head of a Prairie Dulk, nothing less. I stalk them, carefully planning out every last move. I set up a pitfall trap, to separate one is mine to trouve. Keep it alone, leaving it with utter hopelessness. The head of a Prairie Dulk, nothing less. I attempt to frighten them, yet their stillness I did reprove. So at them, I shot an arrow of fire, so the situation was to improve. Finally, they disperse in a tizzy, overcome by senselessness. The head of a Prairie Dulk, that is my goal. I made noises to attract them from behind that thick shrub. With haste, the mother did look around for her assumed cub. And into the pit she fell, she was now entrapped in the bowl. The head of a Prairie Dulk, that is my task. I climbed down in, weary of the tusks and the strength of the beast. But that didn't pause my motion to mount it’s back. Then, in a swift motion, brought my warhammer down on its casque. Yet that is not the end of my story, For in my distracted victory, another Dulk did find its way to me. I was trampled, crushed as it drugged me around. Unable to get free. But there was a calmness inside of me, so I did not worry. In an instant, I smashed a bottle of Carron black upon its face, Then let it ablaze with my torch that had been dropped. Its movement came to a halt, the body then plopped. And though my body was broken, I had the head of a Dulk, nothing less. [!] A portrait of an angry Prairie Dulk Signed, Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich, Battle-Bard of the BSK and Court Poet

Selection of Poetry - Vol. 11 [!] A portrait of an adult Borris Iver Kortrevich 9th of Jula ag Piov, 423 E.S. “Something Which I Cannot Obtain” You are so close, yet you feel so far away. Change the distance, there is no difference. You are something I cannot obtain. I wish for you to hold me close, despite it all. Yet no tender touch can ever relinquish the sting, Of knowing you are something I cannot obtain. World crashes around me, a bitter wasteland, And I sit in my room alone, desperately asking Why are you something I cannot obtain? They say there is no hope, should there even be any? They say there is only moving on, letting go of the past. However, I can never let go of that which I can’t obtain. But I say there is spark, a hope, a light, And an eternity shall never be long enough. To wait for that which I wish to obtain “The Bench” High above the city skylines. We peer down in wonder and amazement. A perfect silence held in a moment. Faded white light around us shines Sit for hours- day- weeks- years. An endless eternity held within your blue eyes. Enraptured with you, never wish to exchange goodbyes. Resting here in the dimness, you calm all my fears. “The Prinzenas and Her Prinzen” A poem commissioned for Klara Elizaveta and Jakob Dimitrey We danced, we danced and danced. Past time, when everyone else had gone. We talked and danced, spinning as we held close. A time when time seemed irrelevant. Now we are years older, and my love for you Has never changed. You say that you wish to Do little else but talk to me, my love. It is an affection we share between us. There is nothing that I would think of changing, Not the way in which we met, nor the way In which you stare into my eyes or the way you say My name as we hold in a tender embrace. For everything has brought us to this moment, A love which hath sprouted from a mystery. My love, now my wife as the words are repeated “I do,” And a kiss to secure how much I love you. “Jessa the Jester” Come, come, come and see Me, me, the one and only me. Jessa the Jester, with a big hat of fun. The joy that fills the room, the show I run. You ask for a joke, I give you two. You ask for a prank, I always come through. So come, join me in my craft. I promise, I promise, we all laughed. Come be the jester, come be the fool. In the realm of comedy only we shall rule. Signed, Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich Court Poet and Battle-Bard

“So much different than the young man Ea had the pleasure to tutor all those years ago.” Iulius Vernhart pondered as his fingers tapped idly on the wheel of his chair. “Now vy, Prince Lucien, and Prinzenas Klara are all grown and married- or soon to be. The next generation. Godan be with vy.”

[!] Upon this second inspection, Iulius would notice that his house name was in fact not spelt collectedly. A missive would be sent back with a cut out section of the invitation.

Iulius Vernhart wonders if anyone will ever spell his name right on invitations.

Borris Iver Kortrevich waits in deep anticipation for his suit to be made.

Selection of Poetry - Vol. 10 [!] A portrait of an adult Borris Iver Kortrevich 4th of Tov ag Yermey, 422 E.S. “You are I, We are we, I are you” Two separate pieces of a whole. Links interlock to form a crackless seem. Each part was made specifically for the other. Without their counterpart they are not complete. Who are you to me? What am I to you?? If not the finishing puzzle piece to the picture. The one that makes everything come together. A harmony where there once was simple noise. Time and time and waiting and waiting, For that perfect other half to find me. That perfect other half had found me and now. It is a pleasant time of waiting. “The Big Show” Highlights to the show Come and off we go Tither and hither and thine and mine Words to fill the gap, whatevers sublime Fill in the gap, fill in the gap Do what it takes to make the crowd clap Whatever it takes says the speaker behind stage Break out now, kick down the cage Kick down the cage, open the door Everything shared, so much more This takes talent, and talent takes time Use words to fill in the gap, whatevers sublime “Night” Balls of white, they float ever continuously in the space above us. Halls of sight, the stillness over takes as the deep ness settles in. Walls of light, somehow reaching their gentle hands to give us a faint glow. Calls of night, sleep draws upon us, whispering for us to close our eyes. “Why are you here?” What are you still doing here? Don’t you know all you cause is destruction? You are a parasite waiting for a chance to latch on. A pest that doesn’t know when to stay away. You ruin people’s lives with simple words, Caving in their whole existence because of your own selfishness. How dare you walk among us as if you have done nothing wrong. We are the host, you are the worm that festers within us. You should have just stayed gone, for no good comes when you are around. Apologies given where apologies were not deserved. You stay here, sucking up the decency of people. And use it for your own malicious works. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich

Borris Iver Kortrevich tapped his chin as he scanned the invitation. “Et has been quite a long since Maty and ea have rowed together… Sound like a lot of fun.”

“More stalls, woooo” A certain wheelchair bound ex-alderman would cheer from his writers desk.

Thomas Komnenos beamed as he looked down at his new baby. His joy consumed him as he stood their infront of his wife, even with some broken fingers. "She is gorgeous, cheri." The lad said softly, lofting his gaze up to her before settling it back down to his child. "You are finally here, little one." He would say, his mind shifting into a state of thought. My little, Aurora. Yet through all of this joy, Thomas couldn't help but feel the bitter agony of what was. What could have been if things were different. My dear child, how I wish you could be here with us. He thought, regret washing over his features for the briefest moment before his head shook. Whatever was- was not what is. He would never forget, but he would not let himself be consumed by it. "Vous êtes tous les deux mon tout, mes amours." The Komnenos whispered, his gaze held firm on the child.

Iulius Vernhart sat back on his bed, eyes shut tightly to stop the tears from streaming down his face. All he could do, in this moment, was curl up in the darkness of his home.