Well hello there Princess, I thought you'd be getting private tutors instead of attending a school...
though going to school to get away from said tutors is entirely understandable...
Noblesse Oblige [Znt/SI]
though going to school to get away from said tutors is entirely understandable...
Just Henriette. The Princess is a few years old at this point
Seven or eight like Louise.
Run you foolish peasant dog she heard you.
- Location
- Somewhere down the road~
So italics does make everything sound evil.
Last time the protestants tried to appear the government quarantined said village and killed them all (save one) in the guise of an outbreak of plague. Killed them with fire. Specifically, used Mr. Colbert to do so. And then the one that was saved eventually became the leader of the musketeers. Because it's Agnes.
- Location
- hell
but he has an older sister....
- Pronouns
- she/her
Yeah I doubt that "crush" is going to go away while Henry still has a "large endowment" from his parents.
Then she will be crushed when she realizes that the true extent of Henry and Wardes's bromance leaves no room non-platonic relationships.
Fantabulous
You know it.
- Location
- My house, more likely than not.
The bride's parents pay the drowry.
- Location
- Greece
If his eyes start twinkling or he offers you a lemon drop, run. Drop any classes, projects or homework that needs to be done and run as far away as possible.
You are a Gramont. Your very existence offends me.
Well Chevreuse is a chubbier and happier McGonagall and Colbert is a taller Flitwick. Don't know about the rest.
I now have this mental image in my head, of Karin conversing with two little angels in her shoulders when she makes decisions that affect her children's lives. The evil one is Tsun (looks like younger Karin with horns and red eyes) and the nice one is Dere (Karin dressed in the most stereotypical Nice Anime Mom clothes with a gentle smile and her hair done in a frontal ponytail). I can't make it go away, thanks Shade.
You know what, I am not even surprised. Bet you all that the first Gramont's name was Dio and he inducted his descedants into the way of looking and being fabulous!
- Pronouns
- she/her
The political pedigree and land inheritance the bride's children would get for that dowry make it well worth the investment.
- Location
- Germany
That would be absolutely hilarious. Imagine Henry trying to implement any modern ideas and being praised by the peasantry, while he himself was never intending any sort of 'social uplift'. Cue him putting the common masses back into their place.
- Location
- Vestiges of Yesterday
FTFY. Shade can be more subtle than that. Right?
Edit. Actually, I can't remember any story of Shade's where protagonist chose to join Reconquista. (I hadn't read the FamiliarS of Zero, though.) I wonder, if Shade will succumb to the appeal of power every Noble wields eventually (like he already does, bit by bit). That will be some amazing character building.
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Pheoxy
Scatterbrained Dreamer
- Location
- The Land of Oz
Does that mean that the mages were from Gaia and got kicked out by elves for all there mako consumingness?
Madou Sutegobana
Autocorrupt has been disabled.
- Location
- Twin Realms Mandala
Let's play find that Snape!
I know, it's Colbert! Sure he's not a total dick to his students, but he's an alchemist with a shady past and his theme is snakes!
That's a lot of exclamation points! Yeah, isn't it! That was a question, it really should have ended in a question mark!
Edit: This is probably how Snape would act to his students, if they all were pure-blooded Slytherins, and the Muggles were made to serve them like house-elves, while the Muggleborns had to remain uneducated and do grunt work with their magic.
I know, it's Colbert! Sure he's not a total dick to his students, but he's an alchemist with a shady past and his theme is snakes!
That's a lot of exclamation points! Yeah, isn't it! That was a question, it really should have ended in a question mark!
Edit: This is probably how Snape would act to his students, if they all were pure-blooded Slytherins, and the Muggles were made to serve them like house-elves, while the Muggleborns had to remain uneducated and do grunt work with their magic.
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InfiniteDaze
Too lazy to leave the house
- Location
- I wish I could stay
I'm pretty sure he must have at least some of an outline but he frequently says he writes it by the seat of his pants.
Chapter Nineteen
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Nineteen
The lessons were boring. When one thinks of magic, one thinks of the cool effects, the powerful spells, but doesn't actually realize there is grammar involved. The difference in a spell could rest in something as tiny as an article, like to make an example, "The fiery inferno of death and doom beloved by the Founder, I summon you!" and "Fiery inferno of death and doom beloved by the Founder, I summon you!" could have two drastically different effects. In the first circumstance, the chant allowed the summoning of a specific fiery inferno of death and doom, which was a five meters squared column of fire, but in the second circumstance the mage could superimpose his idea of fiery inferno.
Course, this was purely theoretical, and Professor Chevreuse had no intention of letting us create fiery infernos of death and doom, but this didn't stop some of the students from trying all the same to come up with their own personal variations of church-approved spells. If, of course, away from the earshot of others.
"We should find ourselves a nice place in the countryside near here and practice," Anthoine said one day as we sat in the Vestri court, a cup of tea in front of us, "I could bring out a few of my golems, let them catch some fresh air." The birds nearby chirped, the delightful chatter of noble children talking to one another around perfectly ordained tea cups creating a nice background noise that was pleasant to hear.
"Ah, the fabled Valkyrie spell of the Gramont family?" I remarked. "They would make excellent targets to test out the power of other spells."
Anthoine's face paled, "What? No! They're my precious lovely dolls-" I stared, and Anthoine looked back at me. "They...they aren't meant to be used as dolls to play house with?" he hazarded.
"Anthoine, are you doing this on purpose?" I asked with an eyebrow raised, only for Anthoine's lips to twitch, before he broke out in a vicarious bout of laughter. I snorted, and then soon joined him.
From the nearby seat, a voice rose, "What are you two laughing like commoners about?" André said snappishly, the book in his hands closed, but with a finger to keep a sign on the page he had been reading seconds before.
"Fun stuff, but with how tight your pants are, I doubt you'd understand," Anthoine replied.
"Remarking on how Anthoine's love dolls will be executed," I pointed out.
"Love dolls?" Anthoine mumbled, "I said lovely! Lovely dolls-" he exclaimed, "I don't know why, but Love Dolls sounds wrong-" he furrowed his brows, "But father did mention them once in passing, before mother dragged him in another room to give him a scolding." He turned really thoughtful. "Uhm...love dolls..."
"Goodbye, Anthoine's innocence, I hardly knew thee," I whispered with tears of laughter threatening to come out of my eyes, my shoulders shaking.
"For the son of the Heavy Wind and the younger brother of the Iron Lady," apparently, Eleonore's runic name was an apt 'Iron Lady', which...kind of fit, quite well indeed, to her character. "you sure are laid back, Henry," André said, his back as stiff as always.
"Why not? These are the best years of our lives. Freedom from oppressive parents, freedom from stuffy and boring naming conventions-come on, André, live a little while you can, because then it's going to be hell. Arranged marriages, military training-taxes," I shuddered. "Live your life, my friend."
"I never said I was your friend," André remarked, warily. "You know that, don't you?"
"Too late, André. You are his friend now," Anthoine said with a nod. "Now come join us of little seriousness. There's enough space at the table for one more."
André did close his book and join us for the rest of the evening, even though our discussions never became serious. He was a bit of a stiff kid, but quite normal below the stern expressions he held. Compared to the graceful Anthoine or the social mastermind that I was, he was the serious type. A company of madmen always need a serious man to point out flaws in reasoning, since, after all, even madness has its own inner logic.
It was late in that very same afternoon that we did our first lesson in Alchemy. I had expected bubbling cauldrons, thundering waving of sticks, and religious chants. Instead we got absolutely nothing if not scribbling down on parchment words, formulas, and stuff that was already starting to bore me beyond belief.
The fact that the first question the Du Tremelle had asked had been about a love potion had already been written off in the back of my head, becoming my warning against accepting any and all gifts from her, her friends, or anyone even remotely linked to her. My suspicions aside, since the chances that the girl had the skills to brew such dangerous potion were pretty low, I aptly turned my brain off until the lessons were over.
While it had already been days since we had begun the lessons, I hadn't yet found the time to say more than a few passing words to Wardes. He was with his older friends, and boy didn't I know how embarrassing it was to have a younger sibling of sorts hang around yourself and your friends, thus I kept my distances politely. Honestly, my main concern was finding a way to get to Square before the main plot began.
If I managed to intercept an elf and get him on my side before everything ever began, I could hand off the king of Gallia and the Pope to them, and try to weasel out a deal. It had something to do with safe passage in the Sahara desert for the people of the nation in question, so that meant trade, money, and an escape route from the cataclysm that was going to happen.
It wasn't a flawless plan, but it was the most ideal.
After dinner, the second part of my diabolical mastermind plan began to unfold as I took a chair, parchment and ink pot, a quill already clasped by my fingers.
I dipped the quill in the ink, and then stilled a second over the upper left corner.
"The Lion King," I whispered, "is pretty much a classic, and easy to traslate...but on the other hand, there is a market for porn, isn't there?"
I debated with myself for a bit, and then, finally, reached a consensus.
Only to stop.
Abruptly, I stopped.
"Oh." I suddenly began to laugh. "Oh, oh, oh!" I laughed, my shoulders shaking. "No, no...not the 'Lion' king..."
My quill began to scribble, and as it did, my smile grew positively feral.
The Lion Princess.
A bittersweet tale in a land of fantasy where mythical Lions capable of speech live.
Chapter One - Princess Lotte was the daughter of the wise lion king Char, and lived in the realm of Savannah. Her mane was soft, and shiny like the stars in the midnight sky. Her eyes were brilliant sapphires that reflected the kindest soul possible, and her faith in her ancestors was strong, for no heresy could worm its way into her heart. The counselor of the lion king was an old and refined monkey, wise beyond its years, it had been him who had blessed in the name of the Founder the lion princess on the day of her birth, with all of the animals present to watch the baptism unfold upon the rock of lions.
Yet in the shadows, the bitter, jealous brother of king Char, Seph, cursed the day of the princess' birth. Once more, his brother had done something greater than him. Once more, he would receive praise in his place. Yet, a deep void began to seep into the brother's heart on that day, a void that began to fill his soul. That void, which the Founder considered heresy, was obvious to the eyes of the pious. It was the heresy of betrayal.
For he who betrays his rightful king, then he is the wickedest of sinners.
Needless to say...
This would be only the beginning.
The lessons were boring. When one thinks of magic, one thinks of the cool effects, the powerful spells, but doesn't actually realize there is grammar involved. The difference in a spell could rest in something as tiny as an article, like to make an example, "The fiery inferno of death and doom beloved by the Founder, I summon you!" and "Fiery inferno of death and doom beloved by the Founder, I summon you!" could have two drastically different effects. In the first circumstance, the chant allowed the summoning of a specific fiery inferno of death and doom, which was a five meters squared column of fire, but in the second circumstance the mage could superimpose his idea of fiery inferno.
Course, this was purely theoretical, and Professor Chevreuse had no intention of letting us create fiery infernos of death and doom, but this didn't stop some of the students from trying all the same to come up with their own personal variations of church-approved spells. If, of course, away from the earshot of others.
"We should find ourselves a nice place in the countryside near here and practice," Anthoine said one day as we sat in the Vestri court, a cup of tea in front of us, "I could bring out a few of my golems, let them catch some fresh air." The birds nearby chirped, the delightful chatter of noble children talking to one another around perfectly ordained tea cups creating a nice background noise that was pleasant to hear.
"Ah, the fabled Valkyrie spell of the Gramont family?" I remarked. "They would make excellent targets to test out the power of other spells."
Anthoine's face paled, "What? No! They're my precious lovely dolls-" I stared, and Anthoine looked back at me. "They...they aren't meant to be used as dolls to play house with?" he hazarded.
"Anthoine, are you doing this on purpose?" I asked with an eyebrow raised, only for Anthoine's lips to twitch, before he broke out in a vicarious bout of laughter. I snorted, and then soon joined him.
From the nearby seat, a voice rose, "What are you two laughing like commoners about?" André said snappishly, the book in his hands closed, but with a finger to keep a sign on the page he had been reading seconds before.
"Fun stuff, but with how tight your pants are, I doubt you'd understand," Anthoine replied.
"Remarking on how Anthoine's love dolls will be executed," I pointed out.
"Love dolls?" Anthoine mumbled, "I said lovely! Lovely dolls-" he exclaimed, "I don't know why, but Love Dolls sounds wrong-" he furrowed his brows, "But father did mention them once in passing, before mother dragged him in another room to give him a scolding." He turned really thoughtful. "Uhm...love dolls..."
"Goodbye, Anthoine's innocence, I hardly knew thee," I whispered with tears of laughter threatening to come out of my eyes, my shoulders shaking.
"For the son of the Heavy Wind and the younger brother of the Iron Lady," apparently, Eleonore's runic name was an apt 'Iron Lady', which...kind of fit, quite well indeed, to her character. "you sure are laid back, Henry," André said, his back as stiff as always.
"Why not? These are the best years of our lives. Freedom from oppressive parents, freedom from stuffy and boring naming conventions-come on, André, live a little while you can, because then it's going to be hell. Arranged marriages, military training-taxes," I shuddered. "Live your life, my friend."
"I never said I was your friend," André remarked, warily. "You know that, don't you?"
"Too late, André. You are his friend now," Anthoine said with a nod. "Now come join us of little seriousness. There's enough space at the table for one more."
André did close his book and join us for the rest of the evening, even though our discussions never became serious. He was a bit of a stiff kid, but quite normal below the stern expressions he held. Compared to the graceful Anthoine or the social mastermind that I was, he was the serious type. A company of madmen always need a serious man to point out flaws in reasoning, since, after all, even madness has its own inner logic.
It was late in that very same afternoon that we did our first lesson in Alchemy. I had expected bubbling cauldrons, thundering waving of sticks, and religious chants. Instead we got absolutely nothing if not scribbling down on parchment words, formulas, and stuff that was already starting to bore me beyond belief.
The fact that the first question the Du Tremelle had asked had been about a love potion had already been written off in the back of my head, becoming my warning against accepting any and all gifts from her, her friends, or anyone even remotely linked to her. My suspicions aside, since the chances that the girl had the skills to brew such dangerous potion were pretty low, I aptly turned my brain off until the lessons were over.
While it had already been days since we had begun the lessons, I hadn't yet found the time to say more than a few passing words to Wardes. He was with his older friends, and boy didn't I know how embarrassing it was to have a younger sibling of sorts hang around yourself and your friends, thus I kept my distances politely. Honestly, my main concern was finding a way to get to Square before the main plot began.
If I managed to intercept an elf and get him on my side before everything ever began, I could hand off the king of Gallia and the Pope to them, and try to weasel out a deal. It had something to do with safe passage in the Sahara desert for the people of the nation in question, so that meant trade, money, and an escape route from the cataclysm that was going to happen.
It wasn't a flawless plan, but it was the most ideal.
After dinner, the second part of my diabolical mastermind plan began to unfold as I took a chair, parchment and ink pot, a quill already clasped by my fingers.
I dipped the quill in the ink, and then stilled a second over the upper left corner.
"The Lion King," I whispered, "is pretty much a classic, and easy to traslate...but on the other hand, there is a market for porn, isn't there?"
I debated with myself for a bit, and then, finally, reached a consensus.
Only to stop.
Abruptly, I stopped.
"Oh." I suddenly began to laugh. "Oh, oh, oh!" I laughed, my shoulders shaking. "No, no...not the 'Lion' king..."
My quill began to scribble, and as it did, my smile grew positively feral.
The Lion Princess.
A bittersweet tale in a land of fantasy where mythical Lions capable of speech live.
Chapter One - Princess Lotte was the daughter of the wise lion king Char, and lived in the realm of Savannah. Her mane was soft, and shiny like the stars in the midnight sky. Her eyes were brilliant sapphires that reflected the kindest soul possible, and her faith in her ancestors was strong, for no heresy could worm its way into her heart. The counselor of the lion king was an old and refined monkey, wise beyond its years, it had been him who had blessed in the name of the Founder the lion princess on the day of her birth, with all of the animals present to watch the baptism unfold upon the rock of lions.
Yet in the shadows, the bitter, jealous brother of king Char, Seph, cursed the day of the princess' birth. Once more, his brother had done something greater than him. Once more, he would receive praise in his place. Yet, a deep void began to seep into the brother's heart on that day, a void that began to fill his soul. That void, which the Founder considered heresy, was obvious to the eyes of the pious. It was the heresy of betrayal.
For he who betrays his rightful king, then he is the wickedest of sinners.
Needless to say...
This would be only the beginning.
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So, uh, I think you might be severely underestimating the scale of that cataclysm. And the racial prejudice between the elves and men.
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
In canon, the main deal that Nepthys told Bidashal he could make was this:
"The hundred year old Sahara at the other side, the rights to mining the Wind Stones, and the provision of various techniques and equipments."
Wind Stones were something which made a boat fly in the air - an absolute necessity. The crystallization of the previous residents of the wind. There were lots of them sleeping in the Elf-controlled Sahara.
And then, the technology of the elves who had cleared the Sahara desert and changed it into the place where they live; it far exceeded that of humans.
The Elves really don't give a shit as long as the Void is contained.
Really don't.
MasterDrakus
DEUS SOL
- Location
- Minas Gerais, Brazil
Dammit shade, furry porn or not?
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