venclair

Woeful and filled with heavy regret, the eldest scion of Kaphro held the letter with a low head. Her thumb brushed against the paper, gazing at the girl's face before falling into a brooding and reflecting state.

ur fav character so far? love ya audy : -)

😊💞

- ur favorite character ? - a funny rp moment ? - what do u think of me ? always proud of u kuya love u, from ven 😁

Alice, the Greatest of Grandest Priestliness, grinned cockily as she eyed her own name on the missive.

; )

show us your art from when you first came to lotc to now !!! progress check !!

see ya Hayley : ) thanks for being nice to me when I returned to lotc, and for giving me that free skin 2 help me out

Victoria smiles the sun's smile at her very own special invitation, brought to her by a stout and jolly courier.

The Dowager's Diadem Bid: 320 [OOC] Discord: venclair#6304

skin: GET ME IN GGGGREEEN !!!!!!! bid: 100 discord: venclair#6304

Skin: Golden Flowers Bid: 150 Discord: venclair#6304

Skin: Golden Flowers Bid: 120 Discord: venclair#6304

Skin: Golden Flowers Bid: 90 Discord: venclair#6304

- who is ur favorite lotcer (only one right answer) (the answer is "venclair") - favorite rp moment ?? - how are you so eloquent? tips, please i could use it for academic papers

Such invitation arrives Victoria, the woman droning as she plucked the missive and read through with a scrutinizing eye. Profuse blinks ensued as a faint smile arose from her features to hear of her dear friend's nuptial. She, despite her aversion to social events, made way to prepare for the ceremony.

RP Name: Victoria C. Kaphro MC Name: venclair Voted: yub

⋇ A FAMILIAR LACUNA In the storms of war, an aging woman was the anchor of her life — the wise word, the steady hand amongst a ship sailing into calm waters. An old royal who had a sense of mirth and good humor. From the old bustling city of Helena, to when their world set ablaze, the elder remained by her flank. A final moment of warmth was shared between the two, where Eleanor truly felt the endearment of a grandmother she embraced as a child. From the coldest lungs come the whitest clouds. In the sunlight the mountain peaks are a celebration of greys, from sweet-blue slate to silver-white. Her bold silhouette stood tall, reminiscing of the Dowager. A death unbeknownst to her, yet she dully thought of a simple sobriquet. Cherub.

what's your writing inspiration ? what got you into lotc ? WHEN ARE WE ROLEPLAYING, MISTER PRODDY? HUH ??? 😾

⋇ A GLAUCOUS FORENOON It was a new dawn, and the world exuded of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside. Selm’s grounds, like the surrounding farmland, was maintained with deep mature hedges and old stone walls covered with blooms in soft, fluttery bursts. The birth of the General’s eldest was radiant — a newborn endowed with her mother’s light tresses, emitting pure laughter. Eleanor was, undoubtedly, a child fostered with endearment by the Duke. Despite his theatrics and strict mannerism that vexed her in her teenage years, she cherished her father well. Kept close to her chest was a heart-shaped pendant. Her nickname was inscribed against its golden surface. Throughout her adolescence, she treasured such. Yet, deception and infidelity came — meeting the maiden’s ears. A man she revered and loved, now exposed before her piteously. How could papa hurt mama so? A looming figure stood by the jewel-sea of a sweeping plain with ragged mountain ranges, veiled and obscure. Numb fingers trailed along a garnet heart, the necklace brilliant from the moonlight. Ire had been coursing through her, the woman discontent as she tore its chains from her neck. Quaking, the eldest scion flung the delicate object into the waters as she thought of the patriarch’s ill caused death.

Arya Stark - 750 Black & Blue - 710

· ꕥ · AN APPETENCE. There was the need to move almost without end; the countryside passing as she loosened herself from her adventures, much like a dream. A horse’s hooves felt the earth and gained their own rhythm, a letter clutched tightly between Victoria’s hand as she held the reins. Tristful words at her grasp, bittersweet and hefty. For I have come to realize in my confinement, how truly foolish I was. For beyond my narrow vision, I had everything I ever could have wanted. And thus, do the grandiose walls of the capital meet her weary eyes. With the little energy she had, Victoria hastened off her mare to the gates of Providence. Her face had been flushed, feeling as if her chest would have erupted at any moment. Love is what strove for her to return to her home - to shun whatever landmark was left for her to explore. Underneath the ache to profess her feelings for Robert, she felt fear. A fear that perhaps she may not be able to utter those three words to her beloved. You, Vic. I loved you. It was always you. These words rang amidst her cluster of thoughts. A fool she felt, yearning for what could have happened if she had not been so fearful. Traipsing her way through a crowd, a looming figure emerged - his stern eyes setting on her. And should I die a traitor's death, I hope you can find it in you to forgive me - and remember the man I was before I fell. “Victoria. I have something to tell vy.. it is about Robert.” The Raevir croaked, a foreign softness slipping his tongue “I am sorry.”

hi chenn i hope ur proud of my math grades 1. Funny rp moment 2. lotc may be ****, but whats something thats come out of this community you’re happy of ?

IN-GAME NAME: venclair DISCORD NAME: venclair#6304 NAME MC LINK: I'll send over in DMs!

SPRING’S MORN @Proddy In this expanse of green there are more hues than anyone has ever named, yet here they are for any eye to see. The world beckoned. The fields were no longer swathes of rutted mud, each one was softly verdant, the new stems ruffled by the light breeze. The hills rolled like a casually laid eiderdown quilt, rising and falling in soft waves. A figure walked up a path in her boots, senses soaking in the changes since she had last walked this way. The air was more warm — it had more fragrance. The music to meet her ears was an auditory painting from the winged composers as they called, sung and raised their new families in the treetops. The pathway threads through the field. To hike here is to weave oneself into nature, to become part of the fabric of the place. Between the rain-quenched earth and the spreading blue heavens, amid the evergreens the silhouette unfurled a blanket under an oak tree. From the tip of her quill flows the blackness that brings life to her thoughts, inking the parchment that told a story of time passing in its golden browns. Such letter would arrive to the Baron of Helvets, releasing a floral aroma when it was plucked into awaiting light. _____________________________________________________________________