#armorica

[wontamis]

(Armorica-Terre de Pêcheurs)

[armoricaroyalty]

Why is the Sims community boycotting Curseforge?

I've seen a lot of posts going around calling on Simmers to stop using Curseforge, a modding platform that enables creators to monetize their downloads, with plenty of outrage directed toward modders and CC-makers who are still on the platform. But I've also seen a lot of people who are confused about why there are calls for a boycott.

Curseforge is owned by Overwolf, a company that is donating money to the IDF in support of its ongoing genocide against the Palestinian people.

In late October/early November, Overwolf posted a graphic on their social media asking followers to "defend our defenders" by contributing financially to a fundraising drive for the IDF. They were met with backlash and quickly took the graphic down, replacing it with one that used language about raising money for "those affected by the violence in Gaza" (my phrasing may be inexact) but the money is still going to the IDF and not to any agency actually supporting civilians or doing humanitarian work.

You can see the original graphic on this change.org petition, which provides some additional context.

If you are using Curseforge in any way -- by hosting your content there or downloading from it -- you are giving money to a company that is raising funds for an ongoing military campaign against a civilian population.

This is why people are calling for a boycott. If you are a modder or CC maker for the Sims, you should remove all of your content from the website and redirect people to other DL sources. If you are a consumer of mods and CC, you should stop clicking curseforge links and send (polite!) messages to modders and CC makers to urge them to pull their content from the site.

ETA: Here's another link with more images of the original Overwolf Tweet!

[justdreamsandmusic]

from Michael Grants Mx. kid & not A. Beroutys adopt-a-Mr. chiveld? chiventh?

if the usually accepted by Celtic people whether religiously & or ethno-graphically in the context of Armorica Celtic French-Germanic Woman Nations being Britonnic, Cornish, IreLAN-dD)ish, Isle'a'man'ish, Welsh, Scottish?I personally would countArmorica Gaulish French-Germanic Woman Nations; Danubein, Druidic, Gaulish, Rhinein, Rhonen & Seinen. "Epona was a Celtic goddess. Her name contains an allusion to the horse: in Celtic, "epos" means “horse” and the suffix “-ona” affixed simply means “on”. Epona is the patron goddess of mares and foals. The oldest information about the Gallic goddess of horses is found in Juvenal (Satires, VIII, 155 ff)."

If she protects mares, foals, horses, donkeys, mules, goats, deer, cows, bovines, stallions & so on, that must extend over to Camels & Zebras, I would think, I should think, in my opinion of how “Gods” & Goddesses should work in the modern age.. vvitch post are we at? w is a ligature added in the 7th century to replace the norse wynn. UVV 

[vaporwavechaogarden]

zero no kiseki

[madebysimblr]

Random Line WIP Tag *~.~~.*.~~.~*

got tagged by @armoricaroyalty & @sirianasims :3 thank u sm.

from posts I have in my Q:

"Cut." "No-no wait! Just let her get into it!"

from a future event that hopefully will happen by the end of the year:

"I did what I thought was best. For all of us. And I was right."

and from something so far into the future that it's open to change lol watch this spot:

"Why didn't you tell me??" "You would have left." "Well DUH."

i did a lil extra lul don't mind me. I tag @daniigh0ul @lynzishell @colourfullsims and @nilonne (if u already done it i tag you again tag ur it)

[funkyllama]

The Way We Were,

In the First week of April, Her Illustrious Majesty and the Imperial Prince began their Two Week Intercontinental Tour. Their first few days were spent with her almost in-laws and definately, somehow, cousins on both sides followed by a short meet and greet with the heiress in Trenton. After which, they left for Armorica.

Last / Beginning / Next @empiredesimparte @trentonsimblr @officalroyalsofpierreland

[mapsontheweb]

Medieval Brittany, 9th-14th century

« Atlas historique de la France », Les Arènes, 2020

by cartesdhistoire

The Brittany peninsula experienced an influx of people in the 6th century, including invaders from England. An independent Brittany emerged amidst the fragmentation of the Carolingian Empire and Viking raids. Nominoë, appointed representative of the emperor, established his sovereignty after defeating Charles the Bald at the Battle of Ballon in 845. His son, Erispoë, became king of Brittany in 851. Armorica became a duchy in 939 but remained de facto autonomous, under the influence of the Plantagenets (1148-1203) and then the Capetians (1203-1341). Brittany became a duchy-peerage of the Kingdom of France in 1239. In 1491, Duchess Anne married King Charles VIII of France, initiating a process that culminated in the Edict of Union definitively attaching Brittany to the kingdom in 1532.

Breton is spoken west of a Plouha-Loudéac-La Roche-Bernard-Batz line, which has remained relatively stable over time. From the 9th century, the entire eastern area of Brittany spoke Gallo, an Oïl dialect related to Norman and Angevin. This region includes Dol, the seat of the archbishopric until 1199, and cities such as Nantes and Rennes, where the States of Brittany convened from 1352.

The administrative language of Brittany was not Breton but Latin. French began to appear in the 1240s and became widely used between 1250 and 1280, a trend observed in other French regions during the same period. From the mid-13th century, counts of Champagne favored French for their feudal affairs. The Count of Blois definitively abandoned Latin in favor of French from 1267. The Dukes of Burgundy extensively used the vernacular language during the second half of the 13th century, with French becoming their exclusive language from Duke Eudes (1315-1349). Paradoxically, French only became the dominant language of the Chancellery of the kings of France later, under Philip VI (1328-1350).

[sanctus-ingenium]

I have a few questions about the world and other stuff. I’m becoming obsessed with Inver now.

1. What type of entity is the Red King? Do they have a set form or can they change it? What is their personality like? Do they have a human-esque form that you’ve ever drawn before?

2. Are werewolves/lycans considered a type of fae? Or do they simply just worship the fae you call The Immortal Hound? I know they came from Armorica, but I’m curious about their origins. Are they magical or evolutionary?

(If answering any of these spoil any of the books, feel free not to answer)

hiiii thank you for asking!!

1 - The Red King is a barrow lord. There's not strict hierarchy (or strict rules at all) about faeries, but a barrow lord is a faery famous enough to be known by their name & to have attracted many followers and superstitious legends. Barrow lords are usually referred to euphemistically and not by their name (i.e why we don't say 'Puck', we say The Lord of Lies) to avoid attracting their attention. The Ruad itself was named after the Red King who traditionally holds dominion over that entire forest. Sometimes it's called the Red Forest, but that refers strictly to the king and not the actual colour of the forest. The Red King is considered to be in direct opposition to the Immortal Hound, they're ancient enemies.

Until recently, the Red King was considered to be the highest & final authority in all of Inver. Although stories and legends always crop up around the forest, there have been no confirmed firsthand accounts of the Red King in almost a century.

Followers of the Red King were once numerous, but in the 1860s the practise has waned as the Immortal Hound's followers gain more and more power. Small sects remain, particularly in communities close to the edge of the Ruad. The Sons of the Stag/"Stagsons" criminal gang in Invergorken city are adherents of the Red King, and operate under the assumption that the King of Inver's laws are false, because he's not the true king (this is not a valid defense in court).

The Red King is emblematic of Prey. In most stories he takes the form of a red deer with the rotting head of a stag rival entangled in his antlers (that's his crown). Followers of the stag are bound to his core principles of cold, hard survival and fighting for their lives; prey animals get no respite if they show any signs of weakness, and are often more violent and dangerous than any predator, because in every fight, their life hangs in the balance, and not just their hunger, and the Red King is the prey victorious.

Famously holding humanity in utter contempt, the Red King does not take a humanoid form, though some legends of green men are occasionally ascribed to the Red King.

2 - The werewolves are considered to be humans which have been given the ability to become beasts; not faeries of their own accord but definitely in commune with the Immortal Hound (who is a barrow lord). They don't all worship the Immortal Hound (as you'll probably see..) because lycanthropy is hereditary. If your parents were lycanthropes you probably will be as well, but you share a werewolf form with them - whatever werewolf your dad turned into, your werewolf form will look identical, because it is dictated in part by your own physical qualities and in part by a manifestation of your family's pact with the Immortal Hound. Size, physical power, triggering moon phase - these are determined by the terms of the pact your ancestor made (often under the purview of the monarchy, so naturally the higher ranking nobles have the best werewolf traits

So like anybody can make a pact with a faery (if the faery gives enough of a shit to accept), usually the human gets some knowledge in return, mostly about spellcrafting (this is what the title 'witch' refers to in Inver). Technically this means that the werewolves are just witches with very specialised pacts, but not a lot of people think of them that way (Félix is not in this category, he's something else).

Usually 'werewolf' is an umbrella term for anybody in pact with the Immortal Hound, but 'lycanthrope' refers solely to the family line 'body transforming into a big canine beastie' type of werewolf. A 'fleshwolf' is the other type, they do not physically transform but wear the flesh of the Immortal Hound like power armour. The pacts of some lycanthropes stipulate that they can bite someone to turn them into a fleshwolf (fun fact)

[nexility-sims]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 / ❛ boy crazy ❜ part 1 (@armoricaroyalty)

❝ The Lover's Gala was the Armorican Queer Front's biggest annual event and 2044 was the 25th Anniversary. The organization's communications team had spent months putting out stories about the gala and the celebrities and members of the royals family expected to attend, trying without much success to turn the event into a major cultural major. Overnight, Princess Zofia (and her new boyfriend) blew them all out of the water. It was only his second time in Armorica, and the first time they'd appeared in public together since the funeral. It was only natural that they landed on the front page of every newspaper in the country, the gala (and the work done by the AQF) a vague footnote after paragraphs upon paragraphs breathlessly speculating about the intimate details of the lovebirds' long-distance relationship. "

♥ shoutout to gabe for pitching this very fun idea, as well as for the title card, the contextual prose, and, of course, my beloved daughter miss zofia augusta st. fleur !!!!!!! she's my favorite barbie doll & has been for a long time :^) i guess i love and adore my son as well, but nonetheless. this is special in part because it's the first time i've written them speaking outside of a parody piece that will never see the light of day. anyway, enjoy this super premature dialogue-inclusive, full-color sneak peak of Them™

PART 2

TRANSCRIPT:

{Light music, overlapping conversations}

[Z] It’s gotten so long since December!

[R] Anything for you.

[Z] Anything at all? Promise?

[R] On my life.

[Z] So ... Can we leave then?

[R] Well, that’s actually your call—

[Z] Okay, let’s leave right now!

[R] We’ve been here for only a short while, Fia.

[R] Even less if you count the “restroom break.”

[Z] That was worth it, and no one even noticed.

{Knocking}

[Z] Occupied!

[Z] Anyway, Hannah’s still here. Even Pidge. Et cetera. We can go.

[R] They walked out ten minutes ago—Hannah with Hugo, Margaret following Arthur. All through a servant’s door. Very conspicuous.

[Z] Did they? Huh. So they did.

{Rui laughs}

[Z] Look, if we leave now, it’ll be perfect. It’s barely nine o’clock. We can go back to the city, change clothes, go dancing—!

{Imaginary club music thudding} [Z&R V.O.] Party all night—bet you don’t believe me, but we actually do have good clubs [Rui snickers] or, like, one I like a lot—then I get a cheeseburger—[no pickles]—right! Oh, remember that poor cashier in Nakawe? You sure told him. [“Plain” means plain.] My hero! Anyway, then you carry me and my sore feet to bed. Ideal night.

[Z] You can keep this on, actually. Maybe ditch the jacket.

[R] Undo another button or two?

[Z] Of course. [Soft sigh] You get me.

[Z] The rose is also a must.

[R] It’s for you—a keepsake.

[Z] Aw. Our first appearance and our first Valentine’s Day ...

[R] A sign, probably. Meant to be.

[Z] Romance novel worthy. I’d read it.

[R] The boxes are checked: excitement, fate, many graphic—

[Z] No! Erotic. {Repeats in Armorican} Memorize that one.

{Murmuring}

[R] Do you think I should’ve worn a tie this evening?

[Z] What?

[R] If we were home, obviously not. But, Armorica is ... People here seem to care a lot about unnecessary things. So, was that a misstep?

[Z] {Laughs}

[Z]  Pfft. Hugo didn’t even have his jacket on.

[R] {Scoff} I am not Hugo.

[R] I want to make a good impression—on your family, really. This visit is different. They’re all, for better or worse, paying attention to me.

[Z] Are you kidding? Mission accomplished. [Z] Trust me, they love you! Now, come on, let’s go already—!

[materassassino]

For the prompt ask: hoodie for Joe/Nicky 😉

This one got a bit long, actually... It works though.

One word prompts!

---

Somewhere in the Altai Mountains, 1402

They are travelling east again, weary of the never-ending woes of the Mediterranean and Europe, and because Quynh wants to eat what she calls ‘proper food’ again – there is only so much Nicolò can do with imported spices that have lost their potency from travel (when they can afford them). Why they chose this accursed northern route instead of some sensible ship from Jeddah Yusuf will never understand, but Andromache mistrusts the sea in general, and Quynh will go where she goes, which means Yusuf and Nicolò have little choice. She also wants to show them Karakorum, which they have yet to see.

Winter is not close, but there is a chill on the air, especially now evening is falling and the shadows lengthen. Andromache scouts them a place she deems worthy for camp that night (though she is rarely very discerning, and Yusuf would swear she could sleep on a bed of gravel with no complaint), and they settle. Yusuf joins Quynh to fetch water, Andromache tends to the horses and Nicolò starts their fire and starts to prepare their food. It is a well-worn, familiar routine, each night in the wilderness the same as the one before.

Quynh is busy telling him about the time Andromache got herself in a spot of bother with some Gauls in Armorica when they get back to camp, and Yusuf is trying very hard not to trip over he chokes on his own laughter. Andromache scowls, and if the light were better, Yusuf would wager he saw the slightest embarrassed flush on her stoic cheeks.

“Not that one again,” she grumbles, removing her horse’s saddle and blanket. Quynh grins, something sharp-fanged and delightfully wicked.

“You just hate it because it ends with you in a pig sty!” she says. Yusuf wheezes helplessly.

That is when Nicolò sneezes.

Yusuf stops laughing immediately, sets down their filled waterskins and puts his hands on his hips.

“I told you to wear your cloak!” he grumbles. Nicolò has the cheek to roll his eyes, even as he wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

“I am fine,” he retorts, turning back to the fire. He sneezes again.

“God give me strength,” Yusuf mutters, raises his eyes to the heavens and waving his hands beseechingly. He stomps over to their pile of saddlebags and begins rummaging, but he soon stops.

“Nicolò,” he asks, “where is your cloak?”

They all see the way Nicolò’s shoulders tense, creeping up guiltily by his ears.

“Come to think of it,” Quynh says, pursing her lips, “I have not seen it since the village we passed through two days ago.”

Yusuf levels Nicolò with a long glare. “Nico?”

Nicolò rubs the back of his neck. “I think… I think I forgot it. At the inn.”

Andromache guffaws. Yusuf groans. Nicolò is usually so meticulous, but in fairness they had beaten a rather hasty retreat after Andromache got into a fight with a merchant over the treatment of his horses, so it is entirely likely it was simply lost in the whirlwind madness.

“We might not see another settlement until Karakorum itself,” Andromache says, drumming her fingers on her knee. “And it will only get colder the further up we go.”

Yusuf sighs, getting to his feet and fumbling with the clasp of his own cloak. He throws it over Nicolò’s shoulders and sits heavily beside him.

“Do not be stupid, Yusuf,” Nicolò says, shrugging the cloak off. “You need it!”

Yusuf waves him away, dismissive. That causes Nicolò to scowl.

“Well, if neither of you wants it…” says Quynh edging around the fire with a sly look.

“Leave it!” the two men snap in unison, and she darts back, hands raised defensively even as she laughs.

“Share it, you idiots,” Andromache snaps, shaking her head. “We’ll turn one of the spare blankets into a new cloak tomorrow.”

Yusuf and Nicolò both look at her, and then at each other.

“That… seems wise,” Nicolò concedes, and Yusuf muffles a snort of laughter.

They end the evening beneath the same cloak, huddled close together. There is, Yusuf muses archly, little difference with the night before.

--

Geneva, August 2022

The clouds roll in from almost nowhere, spilling down from the mountains. They don’t herald rain, but they cover the sun and an uncharacteristic chill shrouds the city. They’ve been scouting out potential new safehouses – it’s good to add to the rotation, and it’s time Nile got a few under any of her various shiny new aliases. The prices are eye-watering, but there’s always something to be found somewhere, especially further outside the city.

There’s a slight bite to the air now, just enough to cause some goosebumps. Nile tugs on the cardigan she’d draped over her shoulders that morning, covering her bare arms. Andy does absolutely nothing, because she refuses to let the whims of Mother Nature bother her overmuch. Nicky untie the hoodie from around his waist – unfashionable, as always – and zips it up, sticking his hands in its pockets.

Joe sneezes.

Nicky looks at him, in his optimistic breezy linen shirt and shorts, and raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t even need to say anything as Joe scowls at him.

“It was sunny until a moment ago!” he protests the unspoken accusation.

“Yeah, but the weather lady said it would get cloudy!” Nile pipes up, withering slightly under Joe’s glare.

“Should’ve paid more attention,” is all Andy says with a flippant smirk.

Joe simply folds his arms petulantly and stomps on ahead, attempting to brave the sudden chill. He doesn’t last long before he’s rubbing his arms, and the walk back to the hotel is thirty minutes.

Nicky sighs, and unzips his hoodie again. He drapes it over Joe’s shoulders, completely ignoring Joe’s pout.

“I don’t need it!” he says, about to shrug it off and hand it back like a stubborn fool. Nicky levels him with another long, hard look, and Joe meekly puts it on properly. He allows Nicky to adjust it fastidiously and zip it up, his resigned façade cracking entirely when Nicky plants the most fleeting of kisses on the tip of his nose.

“Oh my God,” Nile says. “That’s so adorable it’s disgusting.”

[bridgeportbritt]

The Goths got away with many proclamations, laws, and raises in taxation in the years they had ruled over the land. While they bled their citizens dry, they used the funds to live a lavish life that starkly contrasted that of the everyday Pendite. Beautiful clothes, handmade furniture, the best ingredients for the most luxurious meals. But most of all to fund their army and prepare to conquer more land. The Goths had ambitious dreams of creating one of the most powerful nations in the world. By force. So, they thought little of how their own citizens viewed them. Just as they did the rest of the world. They especially never even considered that the poor, downtrodden Pendites would revolt against them. How could they when they barely had enough to survive?

But, the Goths underestimated the people of Pendula View. Each day, the revolution grew as more and more villages joined. Farmers, carpenters and bards alike became soldiers training to fight. Old laws like how to dress and curfews were broken. Soon, the refusal of goods and services like crops and housekeeping, and even taxes. It was getting harder to suppress what was happening and The Goths were running out of ideas.

Lord Crumplebottom: All I want to know is how I can protect my family. I'm sure it won't be long until the rebels target the wealthy.

Mortimer: Bah! I wouldn't be concerned about that. I have yet to see them even think about such a thing!

Lord Crumplebottom: But they are preparing, so we must be prepared! Your soldiers can only make them fear you so much. It's becoming less effective. Plus, you can't contain them all!

Lord Landgraab: And why not?

Lord Crumplebottom: Because not every poor is a rebel. Some are our farmers and maids and still want to work! We can't keep them from their service. Do you expect us to tend to the crops, chores and the children?

Lord Landgraab: Needn't you worry about my soldiers. They have strict orders and can identify who is and is not apart of this abomination. What we need to focus on is funding more weapons.

Mortimer: More? But we've just acquired a large shipment from Vernick and Viridis! Not to mention Druzar. We cannot ask for more aid. I'm afraid our enemy countries might catch on and begin aiding to the rebels. I'm sure Whitmore, Armorica, Trenton and Pierreland would all love to see us fall.

Lord Landgraab: Afraid? Since when are you afraid, Morty? We must show strength at a time like this! We can't finally start our plan to conquer other nations if all our weapons are tied up in some civil war! Certainly, you can use your connections with Druzar to ask for more.

Mortimer: Absolutely not. My sister may be the Queen, but the more I use her, the weaker I and Pendula View looks in her eyes. And therefore, in the King's. We need to be strategic about using them to our advantage.

Lord Crumplebottom: Did you say civil war? I knew we never should've gotten into this mess in the first place. You've pushed the peasants too far! My poor wife has just been beside herself worrying that the maid will leave her for the rebellion.

Footsteps approaching

Bella angry: That's enough!

The men all gasp

Bella angry: To think men the likes of you help lead this country! You sound no better than a woman with your whining and your inability to come to a resolution.

Lord Crumplebottom nervous: Y- Your Almighty Excellency, I-

Bella: I don't want to hear it! If your wife or others of the ton are so concerned about their help, do something regarding it! I don't care if you have to trap them on your property!

Lord Landgraab nervous: Your Almighty Excellency, there's no need-

Bella: Oh, there is indeed no need! No need for a general to ever question his King! If Mortimer says no more aid, then that is final. Make it work with what you have.

Lord Landgraab: Yes, Your Almighty Excellency.

Bella: You men have one duty and that is to support my husband wholeheartedly! Especially with the ton. All this bickering is nonsensical and is of no use. We must act.

Mortimer: Thank you, my love. What would you suggest?

Bella: Well... as always, I try not to waste a frown on political matters and save that for you men. But it's obvious that what we're doing now isn't working. We can't just sit back and watch them form an army against us. If they want war, we have to give it to them.

Lord Landgraab: But, Your Almighty Excellency, our army is almost ready to move on Sulani. We shouldn't halt our plans for-

Bella: Good, if they're near ready than this will be perfect training. Take out the rebels, then get the army ready to march on Sulani.

Mortimer: A brilliant idea from a brilliant woman.

Bella: You lot make it so much harder than it is. Now, I must get to my stroll. All this thinking is simply not good for a woman! Good day, Gentlemen.

beginning | previous | next

Thanks for being apart of SimDonia history! @housekonig @royalmedani @trentonsimblr @whitmoreroyals @officalroyalsofpierreland @armoricaroyalty

[the-lancasters]

Norrington Palace, Windenburg

Previous| Beginning  | Next

Transcript under the cut

Katherine: Your Royal Highness?

Margaret - Come in Katherine.

Katherine – The briefing has come through for next week's service of remembrance - you will be seated next to Robert at the end of the front row. Transport has now been confirmed as an SUV with police escort.

Margaret - Are you going in advance or riding with me?

Katherine - I’ll be with you this time - Sarah said she will cover the advance as she will be there anyway. No point in another person going ahead.

Margaret - Perfect.

Was there something else?

Katherine - It's just…..

Margaret - Spit it out Katherine, I'm supposed to be getting ready for the Beauman show this afternoon. Vivi and I are the guests of honour.

Katherine - Well that's what I wanted to talk about. You both are making quite a splash in the media right now

Margaret -  I saw we were on the front page of the Illyrian Post this morning - Its a good shot.

Katherine - Yes, it's been very positive here. But in Armorica? For at least two weeks questions have been swirling about her whereabouts and i’ve seen many comments that are angry that she has deserted her family when things got tough. For some reason the royal family hadn’t publicised that Vivi was on holiday. The press was pretty surprised when she popped up here.

Margaret - Why is the media strategy of the St.Fleurs relevant to me?

Katherine - The coverage you both are getting at Fashion week might draw the wrong sort of attention to Vivi and cause some backlash for her. Are you sure she should be seen at these kinds of frivolous events given the circumstances back home?

Margaret - We are just having fun! It's totally harmless and for a good cause, why would anyone have an issue with that?

[armoricaroyalty]

Drum roll please.... 🥁

Announcing the first-ever Simblr Gratitude Day!

It's been one hell of a year -- let's end it on a positive note by taking some time to express our gratitude for our fellow simmers.

You can participate by...

Sending anonymous asks to people in the community whose work you've enjoyed in 2023

Sending non-anonymous asks to people in the community

Reblogging your favorite posts from other creators this year

Creating lookbooks or edits to showcase the work of your favorite CC creators

Creating posts to shout out your favorite builders, cc makers, editors, writers, and others in the simblr community

Tag your posts #simblr gratitude day so others can find and share your positivity posts!

Shout out to @daniigh0ul for her original idea for a positivity challenge. Thank you for giving me your blessing to make this a bigger, community-wide event!

[housekonig]

The Royal Archives | Journal Entries: Queen Violet Pt. II

[Then Princess of Belen photographed at one of her private residences]

15 May 184X

Dear Lady L., How I aches for the gentleness of Armorica as I find myself trapped in the intricate web of courtly and royal obligations. Since the wedding's conclusion, the solemn duty of court has begun, ushering in a world of politics that is both captivating and treacherous. My experiences at court have been far from gracious. Despite my rank as the Crown Princess, there are those who refuse to acknowledge my presence, dismissively averting their gazes as I pass by. Many of the ladies, whose apartments I ought to be welcomed into as a matter of decorum, conveniently overlook extending invitations. It is a disheartening situation, for my education, my age, and my political acumen seem to breed jealousy and spite among them. The Duchess of [REDACTED], Lady [REDACTED], and the Duchess of [REDACTED] are among the main culprits in this disdainful display.

[Left: The Prince and Princess of Belen pose in front of Langston House with staff c. 186X; The Prince and Princess of Belen (standing) pose with The King and Queen of Vernick (seated), King Chandler XVII and Queen Victoria]

In such circumstances, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the love and support of my husband, my handsome Willy. He stands as a pillar of strength and support. Seeing my struggles, he endeavors to improve my condition in any way he can. He delights in showering me with jewels, a small respite from the trials I face. He is truly my rock, granting me a level of independence rarely afforded to ladies of my station. He ensures that I have agency over managing part of my dowry and affairs. This only serves to further fuel the disdain of the ladies at court, who despise any woman that dares to defy the norms of royal court. The challenges I face in this foreign land are abundant, stretching far beyond the mere discomfort of unfamiliarity. I am grappling with the language barrier, feeling like a solitary island amidst a vast sea of foreign words, striving to grasp the intricacies of conversations that swirl around me. The language barrier leaves me feeling like a solitary island amidst a sea of foreign words, struggling to grasp the nuance of conversations. The food here is bland, colorless, and unappetizing, confounding my taste buds with its lackluster flavors. Each meal is a reminder of the culinary delights I have left behind in Armorica. But perhaps the greatest challenge of all lies in the isolation I feel within the gilded walls of court. Though my ladies-in-waiting provide a semblance of companionship within the confines of my apartments, their kindness is often veiled, hidden from the prying eyes of their Vernick born friends and family. In these moments, I am acutely aware that I am but a guest in their world, a seemingly perpetual outsider despite my elevated status and father's patronage. This is but the beginning of my journey in Vernick, a path that seems daunting and treacherous. However, I will not allow the challenges faced at court to dim my spirit. Within me resides the resilient heart of a princess, determined to carve a place of belonging against all odds. With my Willy steadfastly by my side, I know that I can face any challenge with unwavering resolve. He is my guiding light, finding ways to sprinkle joy into the tapestry of my existence. Yours in service, VK

@armoricaroyalty

[vaporwavechaogarden]

zero no kiseki

[officalroyalsofpierreland]

Is Prince Oliver Engaged? What's Crown Princess Rosalind  Hiding? This week's edition of Highlander

Highlander photographers may have spotted a new piece of bling on a certain finger worn by Madame Hortense of Francesim. The ring was glimpsed as Madame Hortense was seen conversing with someone as she watched her beau review his own regiment, The Houshold Cavalry, on behalf of his father. Meanwhile, Armorica's Crown Princess seems to be suspiciously quiet after news leaked about her significant other. Is the Crown Princess covering up her girlfriend's allegledly murderous past?

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