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| The Court Royale [IC] | |
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| Topic Started: 1 Sep 2016, 21:55 (769 Views) | |
| New Educandi | 1 Sep 2016, 21:55 Post #1 |
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His goddamned highness
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June 7th 7:32 AM Central Ballroom Posted Image The palace was alight with servants and butlers dusting, cleaning, tidying and making ready for the new season of courtiers. All along the hallways of the grand household, in the grand ballrooms and in the patios of the the great household the last of the preparations were finalized. A pool was cleaned and filled to it's brim, the central ballroom was decked with a buffet and the rooms were bedded with silk sheets. Gifts of gold and silver waited ready for the guests and the king's honor guard made ready to stand at attention. The main man, King Adrién, stood looking regal as he needed around the butlers and servers, making sure all was well. A little "Giuseppe, perhaps more crackers would be better for the guests." or a "Make sure the emblems are all hung on the walls straight!" would be enough from him. His staffer had hired competent people who could handle themselves mostly. All that was nessessary was for the announcer to bring the courtiers to the ballroom. Oh, what a wonderful summer this would be! |
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| Greater New Poland | 2 Sep 2016, 11:35 Post #2 |
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Holy Fuck
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June 6th Kukstadt 8:12am Posted Image Mark Ficken, Duke of Großglied The palace is awake, with most of the servants running around, all to prepare the departure of the duke to Istacia. As the servants are making their final preparations, Mark is with his closest advisers in the main hall, discussing politics. While his advisers are arguing around themselves, Mark is looking at the window, which shows the port, and the ship he's going to be in a few hours. He felt relieved, since he can finally be who he wanna be at Istacia. Being a closeted gay guy surrounded by overzealous homophobic old people isn't a very healthy environment for him. After about 5 minutes of staring at the window. The servant came in and said, "The ship is ready, your majesty". With that he ended the discussion and traveled to the port to board the ship. 9:00am The city's bells are ringing, as the duke left port for Istacia. Mark can't wait to reach Istacia, but what will happen once he reach there? Edited by Greater New Poland, 2 Sep 2016, 11:35.
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(\__/) (='.'=) (")_(") This is Bunny. Copy and paste bunny into your signature to help him gain world domination Proud INWUit. | |
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| Albiorix | 3 Sep 2016, 22:27 Post #3 |
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The Earl awoke to the most beautiful sunbeams pouring through his window. Of course he slept at the King's palace. Why wouldn't he? His own private quarters in the North Tower were given "on grounds of exceptional merit" by His Majesty himself. The suite, like the rest of the palace, was modeled exquisitely to the latest styles, both modern and tasteful. An apropos king-sized bed flanked by a nightstand and a chest of drawers stood in the stately bedroom, while impeccably designed furniture, supporting shining sets of silverware and porcelain, adorned the living room. This is where Earl Bior settled after his morning rituals, sipping a cup of the choicest Tieguanyin tea imported from the Eastern Dominions. The king usually didn't wake till later; he was practically a child still, so here the Earl sat every morning awaiting his patron.
Edited by Albiorix, 3 Sep 2016, 22:34.
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| seems good. | |
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| Mallaska | 4 Sep 2016, 00:21 Post #4 |
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June 7th 6:30 AM [OOC: For maximum effect, imagine Milford Petya as having the voice of Charles Dance/Tywin Lannister] The Marshal stood carefully inspecting his exquisite military uniform in front of the mirror as his young aid helped dress the officer, a young privileged boy no older than 16 that had got the good graces of being an aid to the General Field Marshal rather than be drafted as another piece of cannonfodder infantry. Milford didn't care for him, but tolerated him as he was meticulous in carrying out his duties. He was at the very least not as posh as his other noble kin and peers, the military giving him a sense of servitude and humility. In that sense, Marshal Petya had wished that the military had instilled the same values to his son, Captain Edward Petya, who was known for nothing more than being "The Marshal's Son". It seemed the young officer of 25 didn't even want his post, being mocked behind his back by his own men with rumors of him being everything from a bastard to a homosexual. Thanks to Marshal Petya's influence at court and in the Army, his firstborn son was granted a position of leadership despite washing out of the prestigious King's Officers Academy. The Marshal stayed at a prestigious hotel in the Capital, just a short ride to the Palace. The boarding costs for the Marshal and his son were all paid for by an outside party, one which the Marshal spoke little of with other company. As the Marshal just stepped away from the mirror, one of his guards on sentry duty at the door opened the door to escort Captain Edward Petya in, staying in a suite adjacent to his father's. His son was also adorned in a lavish Army officer's uniform, though Marshal Petya could barely stand seeing him in it. "Father, the driver has arrived and awaits." The young officer greeted. "I had a lot more medals pinned to my chest when I was at your rank, boy. I think some of my guards are even better decorated than you." The Marshal coldly replied. "As is the fate of a young officer compared to an old Marshal." Edward replied. "I should have never let them pass you through officer school without little more than a grammar test, if you were going to disappoint me with your piss-poor leadership." The Marshal again replying coldly. "Might I request a reason for why you berate me so early? You've yet to even drink yet." Edward said sarcastically. "Because you should've gone through the infantry, make you a man. I only had them make you what you are today because you carry one accolade that only your younger brother carries - My name. Our name commands respect throughout the Army and throughout the country, and yet you stand here wondering why I look at your bare chest, not a single medal to your uniform aside from a 'Good Conduct' medal." The Marshal exclaimed, strapping his ornate officer's sabre to his belt. "Maybe I didn't want to be a hard military man such as yourself." Edward argued. "I don't care about 'wants', if I got what I wanted I would've been the King. However, we must make due with other pursuits in power. You are my eldest son, charged with being my legacy. I cannot have a lame captain for my legacy." The Marshal said. "Then why drag me here to the Capital?" Edward asked. "Because despite you being an absolutely horrid officer and a disgrace to your uniform, you may still find room to make your mark on the world by other means." The Marshal said, as he beckoned his son to the door. The two were escorted to a stately phaeton car, with a retinue of the Marshal's own men escorting them before making their trip to the palace. Edited by Mallaska, 4 Sep 2016, 11:03.
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| meme | |
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| Tracian Empire | 5 Sep 2016, 13:39 Post #5 |
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Regional Council
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"So tell me again, what are we doing here?", a red eyed young man asked. The man had his seat inside what looked like a pretty luxurious cabin, sitting next to a red eyed woman. Both of them had a silver-white colored hair, and looked pretty similar, so it wasn't difficult to realize that they must be siblings. Close siblings indeed. For they were the first born son and the first born daughter of the Thracian Emperor, twins to be more precise. Charles Verayne, First Prince of the Empire and Royal Archduke of Corelia, and Julia Verayne, First Princess of the Empire and Royal Archduchess of Corelia. Pretty famous due to their positions, their upbringing, and their beauty of course, the two siblings were known to be extremely close, up to the point where... certain rumors started to spread. There was no proof to support it of course.. but it was clear that wherever Julia was going, Charles had to follow, whether he wanted or not. And now, Charles was obviously expressing his opinion regarding this.. journey. "What are we doing here?", the red eyed man repeated his question, sounding a little frustrated. "Ista what? What are we doing here?' Julia simply smiled. "Our father's orders. You know that Auroran tensions have been rising recently. What's that wrong in visiting an island, seeing some dignitaries, and having some fun? At least it's not Veranium. I was starting to get bored there.", she said. "Whatever.", Charles answered, sighing. "I hope at least least that these... barbarians have the necessary protocols to properly receive an Imperial and Royal delegation." Julia laughed. "I sure hope so." Not before long, the people of Istacia were able to see a huge damn battleship arriving in their waters, waving the blue-yellow-red flag of the Empire of Thrace and the Kingdom of Corelia. His Majesty's Ship Imperator, of the Imperial and Royal Thracian Navy. The Thracians had arrived in full style. Posted Image After arriving near the island, the ship messaged whoever was in charge of the nearest port, to announce an Imperial and Royal delegation and to ask for permission to land. Nobody wanted a world war. Yet. |
| I'm from Romania, and I'm a vampire in my free time... | |
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| Ichoria | 7 Sep 2016, 19:56 Post #6 |
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June 7th 6:40 AM Posted Image Leandro di Venero, Baron of Marcanigra Leandro looked out onto the wide avenue from the window of his Suite, seeing the city come to life in the early morning sun. A solitary seagull could be heard cawing in the distance, closer to the shore, but the upper city was otherwise still peaceful. Closer to the harbor, he thought, the bustle of fishermen and arriving ferries was certain, but not here, at least not yet. His bedroom didn't face the ocean, indeed, his wallet couldn't afford such luxuries, but he could still hear it, the solitary seagull, the soft rumbling of the distant waves, the murmur of the ocean wind. He looked down as an entourage of armymen led Marshal Petya and a younger officer he assumed to be his son into a sober automobile, a beautiful 1911 Farrene Double Phaeton from his own country. He had never spoken to the Marshal, his mere presence intimidated him and his lips remained constantly locked in a sort of vexed expression. Moments later the car was driving down the avenue, carrying the Marshal, the officer, and two other soldiers. Leandro found himself wondering about what he really wished to achieve in Istacia. He loathed the prospect of living off his title, another impoverished noble with nothing to show for himself but a bloodline, yet his father had left him nearly destitute. He knew he'd need money, and time was running out faster than expected. If all else failed, he'd be forced to sell the estate, which had belonged to his family for generations. He had evaluated his options and arrived at a simple conclusion. His only chance to regain what he had lost was, quite simply, marriage. Many among the bourgeoisie dreamed of marrying a daughter or three to a noble, however minor his rank or possessions, for it meant a considerable improvement of the family's social standing. A young man such as himself would hardly find it difficult to procure a wife here, even if things were different back home. He took a deep breath and took the morning air in for a few extra moments before retreating towards the bathroom. He took a quick bath before shaving and dressing in an informal sack coat with matching trousers and a dark blue waistcoat. He left his suite and made his way to the dining room, where breakfast was already being served. On top of a long table were many platters of food, ranging from fresh fruit from the island, figs and grapes and juicy dark plums, to oats, beans and small cheese breads traditional to the area. He took a bowl of oats and a small plate of figs before sitting. This was going to be an interesting summer. |
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| Albiorix | 8 Sep 2016, 18:22 Post #7 |
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Albert stepped down the spiraling staircase of the North Tower, passing by ancient battlements manned by brave Istacian crossbowmen. A few unused broom closets dotted the flights as the Earl descended. As his pristinely polished shoes clicked onto the third floor landing of the castle, a busy scene of servants and butlers greeted him. He thought he saw the king's white jeweled robes, but the throng of people obstructed his view. His Majesty King Adrién. Albert first talked to the King when he was merely seven years old. At eighteen, the soon-to-be Earl had instantly become a close confidante to the successor of the crown. They followed the curve of his ascension and navigated the trials of kingship together. But lately, there had been problems. Albert was slowly getting lost amongst the king's camerilla, the young ruler slowly moving onto different activities and began making more decisions, both for himself and the state. To be quite frank, Albert felt lost. He pushed through the crowd and bowed to the king on his luxurious throne. "Good morning, my liege." |
| seems good. | |
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| Savalen | 10 Sep 2016, 04:52 Post #8 |
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Sara stood up. Yes that was definite sound of clogs clogging against the stone tower. Sara stood up - she was just a poor maid who had been sent to clean the stairs of the north tower. She'd actually been told to sweep up the bottom half of the tower, but she'd heard that the really hot Earl under the name Albert stayed up here. As the clogs came closer, now being just a few metres away, she took in a deep breath, squashed her beautiful self against the wall and got ready to courtsey. Finally the clog appeared, then the leg, then the *private areas* and then the face of ... one of the many butlers. Sara sighed - she was most likely late to see Albert and she wouldn't get a better opportunity. She waited a little longer, so that the weird butler with the pimples didn't think she was following him, and went downstairs to change into the dusty "room cleaning" uniforms, which, ironically, were never cleaned. She decided she would clean Albert's room. Maybe there was a photo or something - she hated having been working whilst all the other maids chatted and watched as the guests came in. |
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| New Educandi | 10 Sep 2016, 16:49 Post #9 |
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His goddamned highness
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7:37 "Well met, Earl of Bior. I trust your rest was enjoyable." The King had turned to the Earl, with a stone-faced facade of utter and imcomprable seriousness. He stared at the nobleman for two moments, and broke his concrete face into a smile. "What do you think, then? I got the old white rags my father used to make we wear and tailored them into something actually worth considered clothing." Taking of his spectacles and trying to clean them, he remarked "Well, they're good for everything except for cleaning glasses. I wonder where I put my handkerchief- Ah, I'll just grab them after everyone arrives." Edited by New Educandi, 10 Sep 2016, 16:51.
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| Greater New Poland | 11 Sep 2016, 14:32 Post #10 |
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Holy Fuck
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June 7th Off the coast of Istacia 11:13am Posted Image The coast of Istacia Mark is below the ship deck, drinking his favourite imported black tea sprinkled with 2 strands of gold flakes, while reading his favorite book, "50 shades of gay". As he was reading the book, one of the servants came into his deck and announced to him that they are now off the coast of Istacia. He was delighted, he was starting to get sick of sailing in the ocean. They proceeded to disembark the ship to Istacia. 1:49pm After reaching the palace, he and his entourage were shown to their quarters. Mark quickly settled down in his fairly big but cozy room. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. So he decided to walk to the nearby gardens. When he was there, he saw an attractive guy in military uniform that was resting behid a bush. He looked as if he was tired. Even though he wanted to talk to that guy, he decided against it and returned to his room, where he decided to take a nap. In his dreams he dreamt about the guy in military uniform. Who is that guy, he thought in his dreams. |
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(\__/) (='.'=) (")_(") This is Bunny. Copy and paste bunny into your signature to help him gain world domination Proud INWUit. | |
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| Tracian Empire | 11 Sep 2016, 15:13 Post #11 |
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Regional Council
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"So, I was so right. This is a nation of barbarians.", Charles said. The red eyed Thracian Prince and Archduke was obviously if not angry, because he was mostly maintaining his usual calm composure, at least a little bit irritated by this entire thing. Somehow, the people of the island had completely failed to notice the huge battleship off their coast, and also the radio messages of the ship. If it would have been his call, Charles would have simply ordered the ship to open fire, and would have turned the entire island to ashes for such a behavior. But luckily for the island, Julia had calmed her brother down, and explained the possible repercussions of such an action, so without waiting anymore for an approval, the Thracians set anchor right off the coast of the island, and a boat soon reached the shore, carrying the two members of the Thracian Imperial Family, and five Thracian soldiers, with their grey-blue uniforms and picked helmets, carrying the P98 rifle, the Pușcă model 1898, the most characteristic weapon of the Imperial and Royal Army. The boat reached the shore, and soon enough, all the seven Thracians disembarked. "Oh, come on, don't be that harsh. I'm sure that they have some sort of an excuse.", Julia said, smiling. "They better be. Or else..", Charles said angrily. "Come on, calm down. Let's wait a little. Enjoy the scenery.." And with that, the Thracians waited for some sort of a delegation to welcome them. Hopefully. |
| I'm from Romania, and I'm a vampire in my free time... | |
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| Savalen | 16 Sep 2016, 16:29 Post #12 |
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Sara sighed. She had just got her first glimpse of the Earl about whom there had been a...fair few rumors and gossip about him. But before she'd been able to take a serious look at the man, her overseer had grabbed by the elbow and pulled her away. He looked at her sternly as if to say "Don't even think about it" and sent her to clean the toilets. Not just any toilets, but the grimy, foul-smelling toilets that stood away from the rest of the palace and was for all the servants. It stank of rotten mice, rotten vegetables, and, worst of all, rotten shit. Nobody wanted to clean them, but least of all her, especially when she needed to act, smell and look beautiful for all of the royals. And she really couldn't do that smelling of shit. Sara had family problems - her mother had lost her job, her dad died, her brother had sailed off to be a pirate and she had no other skill set than being a maid. She was 21, beautiful and regularly received the glances from the local Dukes, Earls and Nobles. This bought her a little money, enough for her poor mother, but here she had a chance to make more than she had ever received before. Maybe for a whole year. Maybe for a new house. But she couldn't do it smelling of shit. |
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| New Educandi | 16 Sep 2016, 17:49 Post #13 |
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His goddamned highness
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Posted Image 9:17 AM "And all who're invited are here. Well, all who was thought would come." The butler checked off his pocket-list as he reported to the King. "All that's left is for Your Highness to make a appearence for the courtiers. All is prepaired, Your Highness." King Adrién wondered if he was too rough with the Earl of Bior when he seemedly brushed him off to pay attention to his clothes and decoration. Now the rest of the courtiers had been there for a while, he was ready to make his entrance. As he left, a servant to the Butler was giving a new recount, and as Adrién was closing the door reports of two unexpected guests came. Unhearing them, the 81st King of Istacia, 18th of House Brumair and High Lord of the Islands was ready to prove he deserved every letter in the title. "Hello, and welcome to my home for this season. We here hope you'll enjoy this fine summer. Welcome to the High Court of Istacia!" He looked around the grand ballroom, the invited young Baron Leonardo, the Earl of Bior, the Duke of Großleid. As well as- erm- who were these two? Oh well. He'll have to ask as he went through the pleasentries of party. The entry done, all started to mill about the room. Edited by New Educandi, 16 Sep 2016, 17:51.
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| Albiorix | 16 Sep 2016, 22:23 Post #14 |
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"I wonder why the King think lace will clean his glasses properly," mused the Earl as he set about meeting this regal-looking Baron Leandro. He was dressed decently, as was everyone else, but his foreign clothing was a little off-putting for Albert. The other dignitary, who had just squeaked through the doors before His Majesty closed them, seemed to be of Istacian descent, once again judging by his attire, though this particular individual seemed to emanate an almost feminine aura. Albert excused himself from the introductions; taking bites out of a cucumber sandwich, he wandered through the palace until he arrived at the southern sunroom. The massive windows afforded a panoramic view of the coastal districts of the capital, and the por... "WHY ARE WE BEING INVADED BY... um... ah... that's a Thracian naval ensign." Were they invited? Albert had no idea what secrets King Adrien kept from him now. He marched back to the ballroom to demand an explanation. |
| seems good. | |
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2:50 PM Jul 11