Mescaffier

Viktoriya furrowed her brows at the pamphlet, crumbling it in a hand as she huddled herself into a corner, distraught.

Young Viathan Othaman, with a begrudged sigh, began to write his application. FULL RP NAME: Viathan Othaman, Heir to the March of Valles HOUSE / FAMILY: House Othaman of Valles YEAR OF BIRTH: 1794 [[OOC - USERNAME: TreeSmoothie]]

"Talon's Port?" the Captain pouted, crossing her arms. "They were friendly to us before. No surprise, though, this's disappointin'. Tai Ping had such nice shops!"

Viktoriya rolled her eyes, tossing away the flier with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's natural selection. There's at least thirty different d'Arkents & even more d'Arkent bastards, just find another to fill that scion's place. Humans spawn the quickest out of all of the descendants, after all," that woman muttered as she gave her 17th child away as payment for her house. "Is it not a 'norm' yet?"

"Whytewazh agh' a pinkee 'heefun', az da churchmen call et. Nub listun tu a word 'e blahz, dah' Napier ez a filfee kwikzpawn!" grunted an orcess, passing by with a snarl upon her unsightly visage.

Viktoriya sneered, lifting a gnarled hand to hide the grin that'd broken out across her face. The woman shook her head, tossing the paper into the pyre she sat beside to mull over the announcement. "Sergei Othaman, te' manwhore. Sergei Othaman, the scorn to the Othaman name. A man most hated by his comrades, and by humanity - may he rest in the scalding fires of Hell where he belongs," that behemoth spat. She lit aflame the end of her cigar, snaking her hands through her hair as she muttered unto herself. Without a regret, Viktoriya went on to spew insults at the burning page, her face contorted with anger. "Slept with the first woman, and yet it didn't sate him. Then it was the next, and the next. Cheated on his first wife, and then the next he sought to marry with a wealthy harlot. Your name will be remembered, Sergei, as the greedy, penny-picking gigolo too cowardice to own up to his own mistakes. GOD bless Simon, who ended this vermin of a man, and the Pruvias a whole!" A single tear streaking down the warped visage of the Captain, she shoved the door; broken to splinters, aside. "He used me as a source for his wicked hellspawn and then moved on without a care in the world. Blessed, be I, for seeing my mistakes in trusting this demon. I'll raise Vanya, Vasili, and Varon well; and pray that they don't take the same route as him or I. My hatred may be unjust, my words spiting a dead man. But if I could, I'd re-summon him and tear each organ, each limb, from his wretched form to show to him the pain I, and even worse, Elizabeth had gone through." "Burn, Sergei Othaman. Burn in brimstone & malflame, and in our seething hatred. May you reincarnate as the unsightliest of demons and most tortured of souls, and may you never catch a wink of peace so long as your ilk's blood may run warm."

RP Name: Dame Vik MC Name: TreeSmoothie Voted: si

Tseczar Tailors Skin Auction Rules 1. Please do not buy a skin and then ask for a refund. After you've received the file, no Mina will be given back to prevent theft. 2. Payment must be given before the file is sent. 3. Bids start at 60 Mina, and increase by 10 Mina intervals. 4. I can only accept Mina as payment, since I'm a minor and can't have a paypal/etc. 4.1 In-game items are negotiable, please send a message before trying to bid with one! 5. Bidding will close in 3 days [2/18/2021] at 2:30 PM EST. Format Username: Discord: Skin: Bid: Previous Bidder (Put N/A if none): Contact TreeSmoothie / TreeSmoothie#2018 Skins Pretty as a Peach [Alex Model] Azure Autarch [Alex Model] Purple Plum [Alex Model]

Name: Dame Viktoriya Tseczar DeNurem Age: Thirty . . . Fourty-fifty something. Street Address: Henry's Wharf 1

Viathan Othaman signs in wide, messy letters using chalk. Viathan Othaman

Viktoriya DeNurem lazily blinked, taking the missive within her wretched grasp as she tinkered with a bronzen construct. She'd brush it aside, lifting the paper into the dim candlelight above her to read. That woman grumbled, crumpling it and tossing it away as she'd reach the bottom. "Lies," she uttered simply. "It's so easy to tell how very fabricated this is. I hope Tanith is thrown to hellfire. D'Azor, Ostromir, Kovachev? She should've known better, none of them even interact with each other. Or, at least, weren't interacting at that time. Otto isn't a fool, either - he wouldn't commit such a heinous act. No, we're all perfectly law-abiding, however vicious politics may get. The Courts are where this would be settled. Hell, the writing is in this elf's own styling!" With a shake of her head, she tossed the crumpled document into her fireplace.

Full Name: Viktoriya Mariya DeNurem Age of the Alderman Candidate: 35 Street Address: Henry's Wharf 1 & the Imperial Army Bastion

Some place deep within the twisting crypts and catacombs of the Imperial Bastion, a single, guttural shriek rung throughout the sodden halls. A sickening crack thundered from from the hall's torture chamber, within it, a deranged woman. Blood strung across her flesh like a sickly web, coagulating and drying after she'd fallen limp to the several blows - only to wake hours later and be reminded of her predicament. In the chair opposite of her, laid a corpse, sat up as though to appear living. Though that brunette's eyes had long rolled back into her skull; her muscles had long withered. The body she'd tried to save was a husk. She'd failed to resuscitate and aid in her survival - instead, dooming her to a premature death. And thus, that crazed prophet proclaimed, she, herself must repay such a debt by giving her own soul for causing Jacquelyn's doom. "Aerial - whatever accursed god lounges within the sky. Return to me, my Captain, and in turn, reap my soul instead," she'd wailed to deaf ears. Finally, after hours of pleading, she'd given up. A terrible stench filled the foyer, of decomposing flesh from the corpse, and her own steadily flushing wound. She'd finally come to some fleeting sense, though as she brought with her news, she also seemed to fervently deny Jacquelyn had died. For, surely, she'd return. She had to. . . . "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when! Oh, but I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

✠ Report on the Fifth Brigade’s Progress ✠ 1st of Horen's Calling, 1804 Penned by Lieutenant-Chaplain Viktoriya DeNurem As it stands, the Fifth Brigade contains one soldier. However, with a sanction from the General, we may now begin our recruitment process! Are you an aspiring alchemist, or, perhaps a novice magi? Join the Fifth Brigade. https://forms.gle/ZKfV41x4QwbQCnZH8 The Fifth Brigade has started its resource index. Only select Officers (Majors, and above) & Fifth Brigade members will have access to this document to ensure safety of our information. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XtGKYkunXytLxOcrpVkvsKVKlclKvx-CaeKpoINAcKQ/edit?usp=sharing If you’d like to contribute to the index through donations, send Lt. Viktoriya DeNurem a bird. There are no other updates to provide. SIGNED, Viktoriya Mariya DeNurem Lieutenant-Chaplain of the Fifth Brigade

Viktoriya Mariya DeNurem lofted a hand to hide her lips as she'd yawn, lazily kicking back on her office chair. She'd set the paper toward the side, snickering beneath her breath as she stole a swig from her Hanseti vodka. "Silly nobility," the Lady murmured. "Wonder how those rumors spread, though . . . Oh well! I have nothing to lose, at least."

I'd volunteer to voice girls but I read stuff like a robot😢 WtP is my new favorite TV show

spooky :)

A white-tufted Hei-zhu took the parchment within its giant grasp, setting it aside to read with a narrowed, red gaze. "Hou . . . Join empire? Seems . . . Untraditional. Fenghou is afraid of our distant cousins," she'd mutter, tossing it aside with a shake of her head.

Lieutenant-Chaplain Viktoriya DeNurem let out a snort, lifting the missive she'd found into the air to read amidst her evening patrol. "How cruel, I and the Assistant Solicitor General were left out of the tale! We're just extras, I suppose," the dastardly woman snickered beneath her breath, continuing upon her merry way to go harass a random passerby.

I was about to violently sob

[!] A small, sickly crow descended from the heavens above, within its talons, clutched a wrought parchment. Scribing sat upon the expanse of the paper, though irregular and odd in its form - hardly legibile in some areas. Should he choose to open it, he'd read . . .

A Figure sits beneath the blotchy shade of a tree, a foot hanging off from the grassy outcropping to wade in the river they laid beside, flipping a Ferrymen Token within their clad grasp. "Ferry Krugsmas!"

A wrinkled Lady Viktoriya DeNurem plucked an invite she'd found in the gutters of Providence from the ground, squinting at it with a melancholic frown. "Jaccy's son didn't invite us? Hmmrf . . ."