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L'Eglise Aristotelicienne Romaine The Roman and Aristotelic Church Forum RP de l'Eglise Aristotelicienne du jeu en ligne RR Forum RP for the Aristotelic Church of the RK online game
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Ines..
Inscrit le: 14 Avr 2020 Messages: 1946
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Posté le: Mer Nov 18, 2020 8:53 pm Sujet du message: [RP] The old habit |
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They had been inside the carriage for days. She never really believed that Ancona was close, but neither did she expect it to be so far away. The reality was that the distance between the two points was not as great, not as great as the distance to be travelled from Spain, and yet the sensation of the journey this time was much heavier.
Used to traveling, she could no longer bear to look at the same old face that faced her. Don't misunderstand the young lady; she loved the cardinal as a granddaughter loves her grandfather. It was precisely she who agreed to accompany the Prince of the Church on that journey. Perhaps the sea breeze and the idleness of a great retired nobleman could restore his spirit, and revive a deteriorating memory, and she, who felt that she was his strongest support, should be there too to see that nothing bad could happen to him. But until that day came, they would first have to share two square metres of vehicle.
The progress was not as fast as she would have liked. The old Roman roads that ran through the Italian peninsula had been forgotten under numerous administrations, and the horses, vigorously restrained by the coachman, trotted at the only speed that did not give the old man a bone pain. Cruising speed. Mortifying speed.
The landscape didn't vary much from one side to the other either, and she often had to concentrate on what kind of tones coloured the distant foliage to distract herself, because if she looked away from her prayer book, she would get dizzy. The wheat fields were not yet ripe, and their green, a bright green but not as bright as that of an apple, was dancing in the wind. The path was shown to be brown and grey, the times when they did not cross the muddy ground caused by the rains of the previous days, and the trees, in yellow, pushed into moulting by the autumn season. All was peace and quiet in appearance. Until the duckling, as His Eminence affectionately used to call her, considered that it was warm inside the carriage. As soon as she opened the window there was an early complaint about how cold it was, and how absurd it was to travel to Ancona at that time of year. Inés, often surprised by the tone the old man used, would close it as quickly as she could. Inside her head, with a certain melancholy, she later recalled the trips with her aunt, the Countess Anelle of Lancaster, with whom she practically travelled half of Europe when her mother sent her to study good manners in England. It was so sad to think that two such young women were dead... Perhaps because of heretics.
– How much longer is it, Eminence?- She was already tired, and her legs were numb. She would have preferred a thousand times more to ride with the Cardinal, but that was a choice he disliked very much, as it was not proper for a lady. She could no longer even see in the sky the flock of ducks that followed them, as in a horror story, in the shape of an arrow pointing in their direction through the sky. As Google Maps. They were probably lost. _________________
Queen of Navarre | Princess of Ischia di Castro | Duchess of Billy | Child of Castile | Countess of Tafalla | Baroness Palatine of St John Lateran | Lady of Bressolles
Prefect of the Court of His Holiness Sixtus IV |
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Arnarion Cardinal
Inscrit le: 11 Fév 2015 Messages: 5974 Localisation: Marche d'Ancône
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Posté le: Jeu Nov 19, 2020 9:58 pm Sujet du message: |
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Although he was the governor there's been a lot Arnarion came to Ancona. The city was too far from Rome maybe and he's always something to do. but now he's quite in retreat the Archancellor could enjoy the fruit of the Adriatic coast. He was secretely happy in fact. But he didn't want to show his happiness. He wasn't made for that and he always prefered growling.
Puaj. He said to Inés. The duckling spanish was sat in front of him in the carriage which led them to the merchant city. He didn't have nothing to complaint about but it was a kind of reminder to her that he was still alive.
Why nobody has invented a mobile troubadour to play music on carriages ? You young people should have an idea about that. With your strange music. Too modern for me. Grumbl !
How much it is ? I don't know. I think we haven't crossed the Picenium yet. He hit the roof with his cane. Come on my boy, faster ! He shout to the coachman. I have time to die three times since our departure from Rome.
He turns to Inés. Italian coach are not very fast. I wonder if one day they will invent some which go faster. If not I will set up my own company with a dark duck yellow logo. Hmm... I suppose I'll have to distinguish my own coaches. Maybe by the color... I'm a cardinal, so a red coach ! and a name... hmm ... duck in italien. Anatra... Anatrari ! Perfect.
He took note of his own madness.
(And that's how kids, Ferrari was made. Wait? Not the real story ? Come on...) _________________
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Ines..
Inscrit le: 14 Avr 2020 Messages: 1946
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Posté le: Dim Nov 22, 2020 4:32 pm Sujet du message: |
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Although the ducks served as a primitive Google Maps, unfortunately there was no Spotify or troubadours on horseback to liven up the days of travel. It was a good idea though. Ines stayed thinking that this would be her new task in Ancona, when they arrived, if they ever did. She had to find a jester or a troubadour for the court of the marquis, to be entertained and to make him laugh, but not much, she did not want to be killed laughing. In itself, human futility and the ease with which a man can be killed is incredible, but at certain ages that risk increases. The palatine baroness's cheeks blushed as a smile framed her face. Arnarion had said nothing funny, but she often said a thousand and one silly things in her head with an absurd grace that if she said them aloud they would lose any fun.
They had not yet crossed the Picenium, in the cardinal's words. She did not even understand what he meant, Inés did not have the knowledge of Italian geography that a papal herald should have. One day she would borrow that book from the library of the Roman University, once she had met the deadline for the delivery of the books on Canon Law that she still kept in her room in Aracoeli. They probably wouldn't let her take one more copy off the shelves. They probably wouldn't let her take one more copy off the shelves. A prelate would probably observe her inquisitively from his wooden seat, as high as a totem, while holding a pair of shiny glasses in the arch of his nose.
Inés shuddered. But suddenly came to life when Arnarion talked about Italian coaches. – Maybe we should also invent faster Italian coaches! -She was always so enthusiastic.- Anatrari is a perfect name. -His eyes were shining full of emotion.- Eminence, you know that my offices in the Papacy allow me certain... licenses...
It was completely absurd to talk to the Archancellor of Rome like that. It was practically like suggesting that General Pompey should lead the legions. She also didn't bother to think about who Julius Caesar might be, and, in any case, she already thought about the possibility of creating some strong stables for His Holiness. The challenges, however, were of a different variety. The Pope did not like to ride horses and the white mule only walked along the main road when a new pontiff was chosen, so her work as a Major Squire was constricted to an epistolary service, as her time in the stables was short and often boring. She did not remember like that the breeding and dressage of horses in Trujillo, where her family had an absolutely lucrative business, and of course much more entertaining. Although she thought of organising an auction among the Roman nobility, she would first need to improve what they could offer. Arnarion gave her a great idea and at that moment she would have kissed his feet.
– Maybe we could spend our time in Ancona for that entertainment. Your Eminence could buy some horses from the local rural people, I will train them during our holidays, and your name would preside over the Scuderia Anatrari, and in the future, perhaps, organise a race. I am sure that your friends will like this and that the name of Cardinal Arnarion de Valyria will shine like... like the peak of the golden goose! -Who does not know the fable of the golden goose?!
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Queen of Navarre | Princess of Ischia di Castro | Duchess of Billy | Child of Castile | Countess of Tafalla | Baroness Palatine of St John Lateran | Lady of Bressolles
Prefect of the Court of His Holiness Sixtus IV |
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Arnarion Cardinal
Inscrit le: 11 Fév 2015 Messages: 5974 Localisation: Marche d'Ancône
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Posté le: Dim Nov 29, 2020 12:50 pm Sujet du message: |
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The old cardinal was looking out the window of the coach. The carriage was now running into a hilly terrain made up of mountains and forests. Arnarion felt - they had almost arrived at their destination, and the wind charged with salt indicated to them the presence not so far away of the sea. A few seagulls already appeared with a greed for food in their eye.
Go away ! You filthy little stinky starving chicken ! Arnarion was yelling. A little more and they bombard our coach with their dirt ... THEY DID IT ! My coach ! The cardinal looked at a white stain with an air of disgust.
Inès ! Give me my arquebus. Once the long gun in his hand he fired into the heap with a heavy blast of fire and dust. BANG !Some birds fell to the ground.
Ah-HA ! I got you! that will teach you to shit on my car! He bellowed proudly.
He turned anew toward his little latino nurse and gave her the weapon. It was a long metal rifle made of wood, an ivory butt engraved with Arab characters. It was a Persian warlord who offered it to me a long time ago, during a merchant exchange in Ancona. He wanted to sell me women. I avoided disappointment by highlighting to him that if I became a cardinal, it was to avoid this kind of worry. He said facetiously.
Why not. Anatrari would be good name. Or duckati, isn't it ? I would like to create my own racing team, indeed. Alas, I am far too old and far too busy to hold it alone. I would need someone young, dynamic, Spanish ... Who knows? Maybe other people will take an interest in it too. Together we will do horse races and maybe we will create the Italian Grand Prix like a hmm... Il Gran Premio d'Italia ? What do you think ?
Now the coach had arrived at its destination. The coast stretched out before their eyes and behind it the sea like a green-grey cloud. A city rose upon the hills. Surrounded by walls and fortification. Ships of all sizes and colors sailed in the harbor. _________________
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Ines..
Inscrit le: 14 Avr 2020 Messages: 1946
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Posté le: Ven Déc 11, 2020 4:55 pm Sujet du message: |
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Inés' face of terror did not disappear even when the cardinal put the arquebus away again. When they put it in the carriage, they said it was to keep them safe on the way. Inés always thought that they were referring to the possibility of crossing with assailants; that did not frighten her, in fact, she was willing to put her life at risk to defend poor Valyria, such an old and helpless man, Prince of the Holy Mother Church...! What an atrocious crime. But not for a second did she think that the threat that really worried the Lord of Ancona was the seagulls. Her heart shook; Inés was a very sensitive girl, especially to animals, and that made her whine in anguish. But in silence, of course. She didn't dare to openly contradict Grandpa Duck.
She frowned, wrinkled her mouth and tried to hold back her tears.
Meanwhile, Arnarion was talking about gull poo.
Please, stop... -Whispered. Then sniff, sniff. Sad face. A seagull fell on the roof of the carriage. She quickly grabbed Arnarion's staff so that he would not try to throw it to the ground. She wanted to give it a holy burial. Maybe a few nice words. Are seagulls noble animals blessed by God? She had doubts. Thank the Almighty, Ancona was getting closer and closer.
The truth is that she was not so horrified by the cardinal's words about the Persian merchant who wanted to sell him women. What a curious disorder some humans have of feeling more sorry for animals than for each other. – We will call it Duckati then. And we will win that prize. -Answered back firmly. WE, said. Any doubts, you old cripple? Sadness became a bit in anger. When they arrived she would have to go to confession. But to another priest, of course.
As soon as the carriage stopped, Inés looked out the window. During that brief conversation they were moving forward without pause, leaving the inhospitable Italian landscape behind them to wander through the streets of a port city. The road was full of people and wagons of merchandise, forming a long caravan to the city wall, where a quick customs check was carried out. At that moment she felt the urge to take the arquebus and point it at everyone to get out of the way. She hated long lines! She stood up from her seat, sighing vehemently. She knew what she had to do. She picked up an orange pennant and threw it out the window, waving it hard in the air as she screamed: WHOOOA WHOOOOA WHAAAO WHAAAAO NIIIINOOOOONIIIIIINOOOOOOO WHOOOA WHOOOOOA ! - Magically, the line separated on both sides of the road and so, finally, they were able to cross the walls. They didn't even ask for their papers!
– We must hold a banquet and invite some of your friends first. To win a prize you need competition. Eminence, you know many people and you can propose to them to form their own teams. And that way I will also meet interesting people, outside of work. _________________
Queen of Navarre | Princess of Ischia di Castro | Duchess of Billy | Child of Castile | Countess of Tafalla | Baroness Palatine of St John Lateran | Lady of Bressolles
Prefect of the Court of His Holiness Sixtus IV |
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