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A Formal Invitation To Have Your Brains Beaten Out.

notjayp

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To the "esteemed" ser Olivier de Letoirneau of the Bloodcast Order,


I formally invite you to a duel of honor, one in which your sword will clash with my skills. I, in all my mercy, will grant you the privilege of picking the time, though if you are too foolish for even such a menial task, I can set it myself. You brought your sword to my person, and I implore you to channel whatever monkey-like rage you funneled into your ugly visage out on the dueling grounds, where I will defeat you. Or refuse, and be labelled as the coward you are.


Eagerly awaiting your response,

Valente dei Pasqua.

@Miss_Silver @Ottorintsu
 
Camilla eyed the duel invite with a small snort, taking note of the names involved. She moved off to notify one of the many Ithanians present.

@Nathan

Anna rose her brows as her glowy eyes looked at the announcement, then over to the gathered folks. "Regalia has surely changed, has it not?"

@Anarchizm
 
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Harric Longsae looks to the duel and scoffs in disappointment. "I'm sure he didn't get Imperial approval much like Duke Harhold did not. Whatever, it seems dueling is the new thing of entertainment for jackass' and cunts."

@Nidakk

Aeoraed is still missing, and doesnt know about this.
 
The Carwell would be wondering through the streets, walking around and about when he'd notice the message. He'd instantly just ram his head into the nearest pole, looking back over to see if what he saw was correct. "One week is all I want to ask! One bloody weak without a de Letoirneau having to duel or something like that! Bloody hell!" He'd continued on his way.
 
Nouveau, having been trotting down the street at the time, came to a surprised stop at the shouting from a particular Carwell. The dark elf more than eagerly scurried over to observe the post, and she couldn't resist breaking into laughter before her departure.
"I hope this Valente guy gets beat into the dirt and eats his words," She murmured.
 
A certain Ithanian only scoffed at the flyer Camilla had shown him.

"It seems that solving political matters has moved from civilized debate to outright violence."

The half-elf would then shake his head and share a laugh with Camilla, continuing his previous task of redressing his wound.

@Ailethi
 
Louis Delmotte, upon having a retainer of his tell him of this, does declare: "On the assumption that Mister Valente dei Pasqua will act honorably in this duel, I am willing to personally sponsor him through the provision of a new set of steel plate and a steel blade of his choosing, so that he may be able to rival the armaments which Ser Olivier will no doubt be using."

Then upon hearing what the Longsae remarked, he retorts: "Ironic, since your beloved Marina Longsae issued a duel... and lost."

@trapperman120 @Ottorintsu @CorrosGaming
 
Azra grinned wickedly and clapped a hand onto Valente's shoulder when she read his posted note. "Good work, toothless! That'll show his blonde dumbass self." She cackled a moment before setting for the Willow, off to buy herself - and maybe her friend, if she felt friendly - a drink.

Winifred von Rahm, on the other hand, sighed and shook her head, "Of course it's an Ithanian."
 
Frankie shook her head lightly at the writing, opening her bedroom door to travel down the stairs only to scream "VALENTE YOU'RE AN IDIOT!"
 
AtticCat said:
Azra grinned wickedly and clapped a hand onto Valente's shoulder when she read his posted note. "Good work, toothless! That'll show his blonde dumbass self." She cackled a moment before setting for the Willow, off to buy herself - and maybe her friend, if she felt friendly - a drink.

Winifred von Rahm, on the other hand, sighed and shook her head, "Of course it's an Ithanian."
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@trapperman120
 
"Oh, Valente."​
Lamented the Hallowblood ally of the apparent aggressor. He'd given a dry and weary read-through of his copy of the letter, leaned against his armchair with a deep frown. He managed a snort at mention of 'monkey-like rage', at least, a comedic result of a dire situation. Shortly after he finished his second read, he discarded it as tinder for his fireplace, the crackle of lumber mixing well with the background noise of a Dressolini mercenary beating a punching bag a floor under him.
"Good luck."​
 
"Oh I know Valente, he's a little brat who should be put in his place. Has the guts to call me out in front of my kin and then make me look like the enemy."
 
To the mentally challenged manchild Valente dei Pasqua,

If you are so keen on making a fool out of yourself in front of an audience, I am more than eager to oblige. However, I would beg you not to call this a 'duel of honor'. Given your snarky and show-offy demeanor and the way you pick on those of blueblood as if they're your peers, you are as far from honorable as someone can stray, dear Valente.

Nevertheless, while I would normally find it repulsive to spend any more time out of my day than I have to in your company, I will gladly make an exception to put you in your place. On the other hand, unlike you, I have actual business to tend to rather than wasting my breath on slanderous insults and childish cries for attention, so you have my gratitude for allowing me to pick an appropriate time.

We'll fight a week from now, at sunset.

Spirit keep you,

Ser Olivier de Letoirneau

@Nathan @Miss_Silver @trapperman120
 
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"I also challenge them to an honor duel! Huzzah! With one flick of the charcoal, and a swish of the paintbrush. They'll... VANISH!" ​
inclined a certain, paint stained aberrant who was unironically seated beside her brother for some dinner they had. Mocking paintbrush movements with the fork she had in her grasp, grinning about.
"Without a doubt. I'll /win/ this one. And if I don't. I'll spread shit and act like I'm a boss everywhere I walk."​
Said aberrant's last phrase was more of a copy of what she believed the de Letoirneau would've done or said. ​
​
@Anarchizm
​
 
Wilhelm looked at the paper brought to him regarding the duel, shaking his head. "This man enjoys to spit words and act like he is formal. No matter what he's going for in a duel, it's a shame.", he said to his steward back at the von Dietrich estate.
 
Cyprien de Letoirneau overlooked the intriguing invitation Camilla had brought him, a small smile forming on his lips. "This guy is smart, really smart. We're doomed, doomed I tell you." And at that, he smirked, going back to his breakfast.

@Ailethi
 
Agnes took in hand the parchment her second had brought towards the camp Agnes was using for her research, extending her gloved fingers towards the paper she would have ripped the wax seal carelessly from its resting place as she glanced over the news, her eyes never blinked nor did her face show any sign of expression upon reading over the aforementioned duel.
"With every fortnight that passes the true nature of man is revealed, be it in letters that proclaim with distaste against another kin as a product result of nothing more than childlike rivalry. Can we not control our impulses.. our envy and our pride to seek peace rather than to take arms against another man simply because of whispers and accusations heard through the mouths of screaming vultures.. for jealousy, that dragon which slays love under the pretence of keeping it alive will result in nothing more than war."

Drawing her face up towards exit of the tent she would proceed forwards, the note in hand now remained nothing but crumbled into a tight ball as she whistled forth to her newly acquired companion, the sound of hooves clattering against the ground echoed as a rather small kid approached Agnes, choosing to remain by her feet.
"Much like food that remains left over from a meal we are met with two options.. feed it to the livestock or simply toss it aside letting it ferment and rot as the months pass by so quickly as they came, now both of course result in the produce being forgotten as they hold no value nor does it effect our lives in anyway shape or form. Similar to the way words that when written on parchment can be easily tossed aside and /forgotten/, I pity those that continue to coerce such foolish rivalries, for such tormented minds they must have.."
With that she would toss the balled up parchment, allowing it to drop before the kid who would at first examine the paper before picking it up, proceeding to chew the material in its mouth until there was nothing that remained of the note.



​
 
Rosseau gazed unto the letter with a grin, chuckling some and shaking his head. "I've no faith in either's skills, though here's hoping. Perhaps it'll be an interesting battle, I'd best not miss it."

He gave a huff as he ran his hands through his hair and rubbed a watery orange substance into it carefully, waving off the young Nelfin holding the letter. "I look forward to this."

Wallace snorted loudly and piggishly, the Boar-Url rolling his shoulders as he read carefully through the letter. His bright eyes rose from the letter and he smirked some, shaking his head. "Lovin' a figh', wonder wha' focker will lose, don' expect t'ere'd be a merciful endin' anyway."
 
Among the few who gathered before the public 'invitation' was a tall Songaskian. The hornless being drew his shoulders to a shrug as he mused to himself, though loud enough for all around him to hear.

"I can only imagine all the redundant, passive-aggressive comments being said behind closed doors right now."
​
 
"Oh, this guy, " Galatea said upon reading the note. "Always running his mouth like he's such a king. I'll be glad if it finally gets shut for once."
 
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