Reliquias nos Gloriosus Praeterita \[IC\]



  • Walking at such a fast pace one would be forgiven for thinking he was gliding, Bishop Weyer went past Archbishop Craticus, who was readying a jug of water for another baptism. With a small, neat shove, Weyer sent the Archbishop's jug of water flying at impossible speeds. It made contact a rather drunken Ed Miliband, who took it square in the face.

    "You shall not have this child!", Weyer screeched, in the first display of emotion all evening. "Your petty rituals are nothing compared to me and what I can offer it. I have seen empires rise and fall, pathetic faiths come and go...", he leaned in to the Archbishops face, his eyes glowing a fiery red. When he next spoke, it was but a whisper, "...but I remain. You may claim the first child for your silly little church, but the second is destined for darkness, and I shall claim it as my prize."

    Weyer pulled up his black cape to cover his face and in an instant he had disappeared.



  • The pain filled Anastasia's blood, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. The head passed through her lower kingdom, peeking out like a turtle. Then, more quickly than last time the torso was coming through... stretching a lot wider than Charles could ever muster.Then Anastasia chuckled. Clearly the effects of the alcohol were becoming apparent.
    "If Tommy" (hiccup) "Went into a coma..." (hiccup) "Would he be a fruit... or a vegetable?" Anastasia chuckled, whilst a baby stuck out of her Underground Rail Network. The baby's legs finally came out of the spider's lair.

    But then, it appeared another baby was coming out of her Santa's sack. The head came through with relative ease, some screams and shouts of "slut" and "Mummy loves me more than you fruitcake!" Then the torso was bolting through like a Nicoleizian's digestive tract after consuming dairy. The baby shot out. The babies were wrapped around in towels. The second born was a boy and called Nicolaevich, and the third born was also a boy called James. Augustina would be the heir to the throne, followed by Nicolaevich, James and then Prince Tommy.


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    Confusion swept across Cratcius' face as he stood there motionlessly, wondering what had just happened. Was Bishop Weyer a vampire or was Craticus just hallucinating? Whatever drug was poured in tonight's meal, it must have been strong. Either way, Craticus felt slightly disturbed. Craticus thought that this was a sign to call it a night, after a long and tiring day. He had a really good time and really enjoyed himself, particularly catching up with Solomon, Artie and Rob Ford. It was great to finally meet Henry van Cavill too. It was especially a good day because he managed to escape from Mikaela for most of the evening, and didn't have to speak to Queen Aleksandra once either.

    Craticus decided he would retire to his bedroom. Craticus waved his hand in the air in a half-hearted attempt to wave goodbye to everybody, and decided to turn around and march back to his bedroom. As Craticus suddenly turned and began to walk, he accidentally strode into Queen Aleksandra, sending both of them stumbling to the ground.

    In a puzzling daze, Craticus quickly regained balance and stood back up on his feet. He extended his arm out to the woman he walked into. It took only a second for Craticus to regain his bearings and realise he walked straight into Queen Aleksandra. Great, he thought. Smooth. I can't just walk away now. Now say something, you idiot.

    "Aleksandra! I've been meaning to speak to you all evening. How are you? How have you been?", Craticus said while trying to act cool. He embraced Aleksandra in a hug and then quickly pulled away.


    Mikaela was already amazed by the prospect of twins, but when the third one came out, she was just astonished. "You slept with three men!", she gasped. "I'm so happy for you", Mikaela said while smiling at Queen Anastasia. She then turned around and put her hand on Tommy's shoulder. "You should be so happy knowing that you are now 4th in line. You now have a purpose, you get to raise cute lil' babies!"



  • Aleksandra looked around the room as she was brought back onto her feet with the aid of the Archbishop, feeling both discomfort and pleasure at the same time as the result of the influx of emotions that managed to appear in her mind over the last few seconds. Even though she was somewhat glad to see him, she soon begun to succumb to insecurity, having her question would Paul bother to talk to her if this accident didn't take place, or was this 'coincidence' an act on his behalf, so that he could have an excuse to speak to her before the dinner was over? Was his ecstatic reaction a cheap act or a genuine emotion? There were so many questions that she would have liked to see answered. However, even though her mind was possessed by turbulence, she found the comfort she needed to respond through the man's warm embrace. "It is great to get to see you, Craticus." she said, not knowing how else to react.

    However, it was hard to remain calm and collected in this anxious situation, where she had to look into the eyes of the man that she loved in secret while surrounded by hundreds of people, especially when she didn't even know where she stood with him. She still kept thinking about was he even glad to see her, with this intense though process having her feel weak at the knees. "Why am I acting like this?" she thought as her face became pale and she looked up at the man, with even him being able to sense that something was wrong. "Paul..." she said while placing her arms on his shoulders as her eyes begun to close and her breathing became heavier. "...take me to my chambe-.." But before she could finish the sentence, she realized that she couldn't make it, her touch turning stone cold as she begun to lose her conciousness.

    However, as the woman's body grew weaker and weaker with each second, her mind carried her to a whole different world as it consumed her into a dream, leading the woman towards finding herself into a place that she considered foreign. Around her, she saw breathtaking columns, tapestries of christain saints and a high altar chiseled out of silver, with the location growing even more stunning as she proceeded to discover more of it, finding ancient woodcarving, furnishing, funerary monuments, piles of silver and golden jewelry. At first, she thought that she was in heaven, and she wasn't too distant from the truth. She found herself in the Burnt Cathedral, the so called Remains of St. Dominico's legacy, but in the time where the Cathedral stood tall and proud.

    "Where am I?" she cried out in panic.

    "Is this what I think it is? Was I... brought to church?"

    However, even though she still considered her surroudings foreign, the woman started to feel a certain sense of protection, giving her the confidence it took to continue walking through the empty halls. "What is the purpose of this?" the woman said as she proceeded onwards, placing her hand on her chest and looking at the center of the cathedral's grand hall where she found a statue of the Christ himself, with the statue's eyes meeting her's.

    This frightened her, leading her towards attempting to walk away, but she still felt as if she was watched, with the fact that she heard her every step due to the hall's emptiness contributing to her paranoia and frustration.

    This now encouraged her to attempt to running towards the cathedral's grand gates in hopes of escaping this madness, something that she pursued with success. However, as she opened the gates and escaped, she soon felt a disturbance on the ground she walked on as a fire begun appearing behind her, consuming the cathedral that she managed to escape and leading the building towards ruins, having her realize where she was.

    "Could it be? Is this the... Burnt Cathedral?"


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    The British delegation, completely confused, dragged the drunk Prime Minister out and without saying much to anyone left the festivities. They had seen far too much for one day to process what occurred.



  • Matt Warman, Vice President of the Federal Democratic Republics of Framptonia, chased after the delegation from The United Kingdom. He grasped the arm of David Miliband.

    "Mr Miliband, I realise that this is not a good time, while your brother is ... errr .... in this state. But I have just received news of a major incident that has taken place in the European Council Chamber. It appears that our Councillor has been assaulted and kidnapped by the representative of the Teutonic States."

    "I trust that Framptonia can rely upon the help of The United Kingdom in gaining the safe return of our Councillor?"



  • Anastasia, Tommy, and Willam each took a baby out of the dining hall. Anastasia returned to her room, and Tommy and Willam shared a room for the night. Cots were put into Anastasia's room, with a sound link to the servants so that they could help with the baby. They were to fly home the next day to Saint Regina. Queen Anastasia would be staying in a new residence with the triplets as the city life would not be good for them. She felt a nice house in the countryside would be best. And of course plenty of nannies.


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    "Aleksandra?", Craticus whispered as she fell limp into his arms. Her touch was cold and her breath was heavy. Her fingers, barely hanging hanging unto his shoulders, began to override his sense with her cold freeze. Craticus couldn't breathe.

    Just as Craticus felt a shiver of cold rush to his heart, he was suddenly transported somewhere very hot. He spun in circles as he collected his bearings, realising he was now trapped in an intense fire. Despite the wicked heat scratching at his skin, his heart remained cold and heavy. His surrounding were not only on fire, but were caving in on him.

    "Is this the gates of hell?", he asked with confusion, running through the fires, dodging and hopping over flames and escaping falling pieces of structures. The fires and smoke grew more intense, disabling his senses and tripping him. Craticus fell to the ground. Searing heat began to rip through him with sweat and blood clouding his eyes. The pain was unbearable. Craticus squinted upward, looking at the statue of Christ staring from above. It was judging him. He quickly realised where he was - the Burnt Cathedral in Saint Dominico.

    Craticus now knew where to escape. He managed to force himself back unto his feet, despite the great pain. A great light beamed at the other end of where he was standing - the Great Gates. That's where he was to go. As he began to limp to his destination, he noticed a woman, who seemed to be Aleksandra, making her way outway the gates. It was closing behind her.

    "No, stay! Come back! Open up!", Craticus shouted as he limped his way over to the gates. " Aleksandra! Open it back up!"

    The fire began to consume his entire surroundings and began to consume Craticus too. With great strength and endurance, he managed to perservere and reach the gates. But he couldn't open them. He didn't have the strength. Craticus began to pound on the gates with his fists. "Open, please!", he yelled as he began to raise his voice again. But it was now too late, and he didn't have any life left in him. The harsh fires began to take over him and forced him against the door. The ice in his began to expand, destroying him from the inside.

    *Crack*

    While devastating pain tortured his body, a peculiar numbness began to take ove his chest. Pressed with his face and body against the gates, Craticus fell backwards into the pit of fire as he succumbed to the flames.

    Craticus suddenly found himself back in reality. A soft and still quietness now consumed his bearings. He was somewhere familiar. He was in a room, back in Versailles. But it was not his own. As he looked down on his lap, he noticed Aleksandra's head resting on him. She was unconscious, but was breathing heavily. Craticus ran his fingers through her hair, as if doing it for the first time. He felt like he had lost her and found her again. He felt like he knew her, but only a lifetime ago. He felt strange, like he was beginning to fall in love for the first time in his life. As her eye began to flutter open, Craticus leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips.



  • As time passed, and Aleksandra's mind allowed her to escape the horrible place that was the Burnt Cathedral, the woman's body calmed down. Her breathing was now returning to normal, her skin lost it's paleness and she begun to wake up, unaware that she was on Paul's lap. However, even though she was just waking up, being able to do so in the arms of her lover was what felt like the dream, with his strong hands keeping her warm while his lips sent shivers down her spine, taking her breath away one more time.

    And suddenly, her blood started running through her veins faster than it did before as a rush took her over, a rush that felt so good it had to be a sin. "Paul.." she said as she kept getting closer to him, landing a kiss on his cheek as she placed her hand under his chin while a certain fragrance maintained a presence on the woman's neck, the same one that she wore the first time she met with the Archbishop. "I missed you so much. But did you miss me?"

    Despite knowing Paul well enough to understand that he was most likely to start feeling uncomfortable, there was something about him that the woman found too irresistible, having her fail at containing her passion and instincts. And at the moment, her most primal instincts forbade her from keeping away from him as she started running her hands down his chest, undoing his shirt's buttons and gazing into his eyes, laying all of her cards on the table.


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    Craticus froze and hesitated. He sat up straight and pulled Aleksandra up from her lying position into a sitting position. "Yes", Cratiucs finally answered with an uncertain tone. Craticus didn't know what else to say. They two of them sat there for a moment in awkward silence.

    "Look, it's been hard", Craticus began before stopping himself. He sighed and buried his face in his hands in frustration. He sighed again before then turning on his side, this time in order to look at Aleksandra face-to-face. "We haven't spoken in a while. I feel like we've been playing a game, trying to see who could avoid who for the longest amount of time. Suffice to say, it's not been a very fun game. At first I regretted what we did that night in Icholasen. At the time I thought it was stupid and foolish. But there's no point pretending it never happened. Since then, I've missed you and I want to be honest with you. We have to drop the games and just be honest with each other."


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