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Princess School RP!
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Princess School RP!
Princess School RP!
You are a young girl from a small village on the edge of a kingdom. The King has made a decree that all girls 12- 17 years of age are to go to a special school to train to be princesses. At the end, the prince will pick one to marry. Create your charrie sheet like this:
Name:
Age (12-17):
Appearance:
Personality:
Friends:
Enemies:
Other:
For example, here's mine:
Name: Alexandra Thatcher
Age: 13
Appearance: Waist length, curly, bright red hair, dark green eyes
Personality: Smart, courageous, stubborn, loyal
Friends: I'll wait and see
Enemies: I'll wait and see
Other: N/A
Rules:
1. No AEs please
2. Only 2 charries per person
3. We will start when there are 12 charries. After that, you have to ask me if you want to join
4. No magical powers or OP charries, please
5. Have Fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Your friend,
elementgirl18917
submitted by elementgirl18917
(January 8, 2017 - 2:24 pm)
(January 8, 2017 - 2:24 pm)
~Wren
My simple emerald gown rustles as I step out of the carriage and pick up my single carpet bag. Staring up at the palace, all spires and flags, I wonder how I'm ever going to be able to call this my home. I hope I won't have to for long. I stand tall, and with has set, begin the long walk to the place gates. Flowers and vines are strung along posts and fences, and hear sophisticated ladies as well as village girls oohs and aahs as they stare and touch and gasp. I'm not as impressed as one might think. After all, it's nothing other than hunks of cold stone and a few twigs and weeds. Nothing is anything without love, and this place is certainly without love. But even so, I can't help but be impressed a bit, as I stare at the ornate carvings on the doors I'm about to open. But just as I begin to turn the handle, two girls rush past, bumping me, and nearly knocking me over. I stumble, then, regaining my balance, cast an angry glare in their direction. "Well excuse me," I say indignantly. "Oh, sorry dearie, we didn't see you there!" They call carelessly before running off and continuing to giggle. (OUT OF CHARRIE: Anyone can be these girls, but btw, they're going to be enemies of Wren's for life, so just keep that in mind. They'll come up in mean ways later on.) I huff, then enter the doors myself.
~
I walk down the hall, hoping I won't get lost for the third time and have to report to Charlain Brigady, who is some sort of butler, again, for directions. I am supposed to stay in the west wing of the palace with the other village girls, so I take a left turn, go down a long corridor, and then into another hallway, finally bringing me to a door which takes me into another large room (there doesn't seem to be a small room in the palace) where several beds are placed. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, a sigh in relief. This must've been the right room. I choose a quaint little bed by the window, and set my bag down. The bed is made of beautifully polished wood, with a colorful handmade quilt of ornate design, and a small canopy above. It has a little nightstand with a shelf and two drawers, and on the other side of the bed sits a small table with a mirror and washbasin with a little stool. Each bed is arranged like this, and they are all (surprisingly) a fair space apart. On the other side of the room, a small doorway opens into a chamber with a privy and a few other washbasins, along with a fair sized tub. I open my carpet bag and take out my gowns. I have one ballgown which took my grandmother nearly a year to make, and I finished trimming it and hemming it myself. It was a beautiful silken midnight blue, flowing down to my feet and trailing across the floor. The waist was small and trimmed in purple cloth roses, and it had a matching blue sash which pulled tightly around the waist in the back. The neckline was low, but not improperly low, and the sleeves were capped. I love the way it twirls around my ankles on moonlit nights when the dancing never stops. But I've only worn it once, for fitting, and only ever imagined dancing in it. But I fold it gently and place it in the drawer along with my other gowns, which consist of a crimson one with a lace trim, made of cotton, a short violet tunic worn with mottled gray and brown leggings, and an auburn yellow gown. I also have the one I'm wearing at the moment, which is an emerald trimmed in brown. The waists of my everyday gowns are all trimmed in ornate embroidery, which took me nearly as long as it did to make the gowns themselves. After that, I unpack my other things and put them away, then take out a change of clothes and cross the room to the washing chamber. I quickly relieve myself in the privy before taking off my clothes and climbing into the tub. I wash myself clean, then put on a fresh change of clothes (my violet tunic and leggings). Back in the room, I comb my hair in the mirror, and then scrub my face in the washbasin. I climb into bed, but not without looking at the picture inside my locket. It's only a painting, but it's the closet thing I have to my family. I don't know what lies ahead for me tomorrow, but I hope that whatever it is, I have the strength to face it.
(January 17, 2017 - 12:25 pm)
What about . . . 1523?
Sooo, are you going to organize a poll?
Are you going to rename the bunch of people I named? I'm fine with that.
(January 17, 2017 - 10:44 pm)
No, seriously. I think that we should decide who will marry the prince beforehand.
Gigi says IUWD. IUSD? Yes. I go to one of the IUSD (Irvine unified school district) schools.
(January 18, 2017 - 7:43 pm)
Miara~
I look up is surprise as the carriage draws up to the castle. Other than the mountains, it is the biggest thing that I'd ever seen. It's tall, graceful towers jutted proudly into the sky, adorned by colourful flags and leering stone gargoyles. The wide archways are covered in elegant ancient writing, and the people milling around outside show off their fine clothes. They remind me of peacocks, all strutting and bright and colourful.
But over the stunning castle's beauty, there is an aura of fakeness. These people do not lead normal lives. They do not work for their families or haggle over prices at the market. They do not sew their own clothes or look after their little brothers. These people live in a bubble protected from the harsh reality of the real world. Their maids cook their food and make their clothes. They have people to do everything for them. They wouldn't even have to walk if they didn't want to. I look around and feel oddly separated from them. We lead such different lives.
I walk into the bedroom with the other village girls, and everyone instantly rushes to claim a bed. I sit down on mine and start unpacking. I only own one dress. I find them uncomfortable and impractical, and besides, once my brothers left and I started caring for everyone it was too hard to do work in them. When my whole family was struck down by illness, we had to sell my only nice dress for money until I recovered. I never liked dresses anyways, though.
I pull out my four tunics - the nicest, slightly long, and deep blue with silver trim, my dull green one from the day before, a dark scarlet one, and a plain brown one, along with a few pairs of leggings. My one dress is nothing too special - long, white, and floaty, but it is somewhat elegant. In addition, I have my warm brown cloak, and my only pair of shoes, which are boots.
~~~
The next day, the village girls walk into a large room with high, swooping ceilings and a delicate chandeleir. "Welcome, welcome" chirps the instructor. "Time for your first lesson.
(January 18, 2017 - 8:01 pm)
Stephanie-
As the carriages drew towards th castle, Alexandra and I huddle closer and closer together. I have never seen such a beautiful, towering, amazing castle in my life. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen a castle before, but this is more than enough to match my expectations in size, beauty and glamour. As the carriages pull to a stop, Alexandra is nearly thrown off her seat from the sudden jolt. The doors open and we silently step outside, my humble white gown flowing around me in the evening breeze. My stomach is an emotional mess of fear and longing as we finally step into the castle...
(January 19, 2017 - 7:57 pm)
~Sasha
My dress is plain and a bit to short. The instructor looks at me with distain when she is inspecting us.
Dont have time for more. Will post soon.
(January 19, 2017 - 9:20 pm)
Melia-
I wake up to a golden ray of sunlight in my face. I'm pretty sure I woke up all the other girls when I fell off the bed in an attempt to get away from the ray. After I went through my morning duties, I put on my magenta dress and report to the dining hallbefore anyone else. They were still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes when I got dressed. As I walk to the serve-yourself line (OUT OF CHARRIE: remember, they didn't have the word buffet) I pick up a tray. I find what I want to eat: porridge with sugar, quickly. When I take a seat, I see Fenrys hurrying toward me with her breakfast. I wave her over and ask her, "Who do you think will marry the prince?" "I don't know," replied Fenrys.
Later-
I step into a crystalline room in the North wing of the palace. "Take your seats, take your seats." a high voice chirped. "I am Madame Olga and I will teach you to be a princess." she said again. "Now, we first will be learning to read and write." I raised my hand. "Yes." she noted my hand. "I already know how to read and write." I said. What? You can't expect me to have that much free time and not do something? "Um, very well," she said, apparently flustered,"well then you can write a paragraph on your village life." I set off to work on my slate on the paragraph.
Gigi says bndi.
What?
Gigi: Gigi says want oreo pony
Oreo..pony? *Facepalms*
(January 19, 2017 - 9:48 pm)
~Alexandra
Saturday, 16th June, the Year of Our Lord 1523
I walk into the castle, feeling like a princess. Of course, I don't want to become the princess, but-
My train of thought is interrupted when I step into the west room. It is the most beautiful room I have ever seen. I choose a small bed and wardrobe in the corner, then get to unpacking. I have 5 gowns: a green tunic, a simple yellow gown, a simple blue gown, my beautiful, red ball gown with the ornate embroidery, and a nightgown. I choose the nightgown, and step into the small washroom. By now, it is dark, and so I climb into bed.
Sunday, 17th June, the Year of Our Lord 1523
The next morning, I get up, put on my yellow gown, and walk to the breakfast room. Never in my life had I seen such fine food! There was so much of it, I didn't know where to begin
After eating a simple breakfast of eggs, I went to the room where we would learn how to 'be a princess' . School on a Sunday? This was unheard of! But the teacher, Madame Olga, seemed kind. "All right, students. Today, you will learn how to read and write."
Melia raised her hand. "I already know how to read and write" she said. "So do I" I said.
"All right" Madame Olga replied. " You may each write a paragraph about village life."
So, I do just that.
(January 20, 2017 - 7:07 am)
I'm still here, just on mobile, so I can't post.
(January 20, 2017 - 9:30 am)
~Wren
I yawn and stretch, looking around, I notice only one girl is up as early as I, and she falls out of bed after a ray of sunlight settles across her face. I suppress a giggle, and step out of bed. My bare feet fall onto the squishy woven wool rug, and I flinch, expecting the cold, wooden floor of my bedroom back home. I almost expect that I will feed Danny Boy and the chickens, before realizing that I don't have any chores today. I undress in the washroom and slip into my yellow tunic and heather grey leggings. I pull on my wool lined boots-wool lined only because my family raises sheep-and wash up at the washtub beside my bed. After brushing my hair, I head downstairs after the only other early-bird.
~
I fill my bowl with berries and sugar, as well as a small slice of bread with a single pat of butter, and milk. I can barely believe how delicious the food here is, being used to cold porridge and water.
In the large room where we are to learn our lessons, Madame Olga says we are to learn to read and write. I raise my hand along with two other girls. "I can already read and write." The first girl says. "So can I" says the other. "I as well." I say, smiling sheepishly. She tells us to write a paragraph about our village life, and so I set to work, jotting down everything about our small farm, my family, and the village that I could remember. By the time I finished, the piece of parchment was covered in my scrunched but neat handwriting, front and back. Once the ink had dried, I set my quill down, looking satisfied, and took the sheet if parchment to Madame Olga. She looked at it, her eyes grew wide, and she said, "Is this what you call... A paragraph?" Blushing, I reply, "Oh, my apologies Madame. I seem to get a bit carried away at times. I can do it over, if you like."
"Oh no! Quite the contrary my dear! I am simply delighted that you show such scholarship and talent! However, I do hope that you attend other things, and that this doesn't prove to be your only talent." I see a few disdainful looks, and ducking my head, thank Madame Olga, and return to my seat. I just hope I haven't unintentionally created any new enemies for myself.
(January 20, 2017 - 11:24 am)
Melia-
I follow the procession of village girls to the dining hall for dinner. Madame Olga had told us that in two weeks, we would have three balls, one after another, as chances for the prince to decide who to marry. I sit down at the same table I sat at for breakfast and fill my plate with crystallized mangos, roasted pork, and brussel sprouts. I quickly finish my dinner and wait for dinner to be over.
Later
I lay down in my bed when I suddenly hear a shout of, "FIRE! FIRE!" I quickly get out of bed, slip into my gown from yesterday, pack up all my stuff and get out. My family had a strict procedure about fires. Since my father is a carpenter, our house is filled with wood. Wood catches fire easily so my family has learned to pack up everything in 30 seconds. I grab Fenrys's stuff for her and calmly open the window and jump out. My family had procedures about that too. Not very ladylike but necessary, my mother had said. I see the other girls crowding around the window. "C'mon! It's safe!Jump! You'll land on a very soft surface!" i call. The time it takes for everyone to jump out is agonizingly slow. Finally, everyone is out and we slowly watch the west wing burn to shreds.
(January 21, 2017 - 5:16 pm)
Oh, come on! I made a typo! I wrote i instead of I!
(January 21, 2017 - 5:17 pm)
Oh, come on! I made a typo! I wrote i instead of I!
(January 21, 2017 - 5:17 pm)
Six of Clubs~
I'm not a cryer. Never have been. But I cried last night when I recieved word that I was going to a freaking CASTLE to go to a PRINCESS school to MARRY a PRINCE. I hate that I have to go to a school to Learn what to do with my life.
I cry now as I hug Jack of Hearts at the door, right before I leave. I pull myself away and pull his blond hair one more time to tease him. We smile a bit through the tears, and then I whisper, "No matter what happens, I'm escaping that hellhole. Whatever happens." Tears pour down my face as I turn away. I pull my satchel over my shoulder and step onto the pink-gold carriage.
I stare out the back window at everything I've ever known. I open my Club-shaped ♣️ locket and look at the photos. One of me, one of Hearts, one of my missing friend Ace of Spades. She would love to go to this stupid school.
$!x 0f €lub$
I must have fallen asleep in the carriage because I wake from a dream of the three of us all together again. I wake up crying. I stare out the window again and see the castle looming in the distance. I look a inside my satchel at the things I brought. A few battle skills books, my journal, ten blackgirls pencils, three decks of cards, and a bottle of water. I also packed some necessities such as toothbrushes and a comb, but I bet they give you pink bejeweled items instead. They would be so different from the black ones I own. I ask the driver, " Is it even worth it to forI this 'Princess School?'"
He replies "Yes," with a frown.
I put my black-sneakered feet on the back of the front seat, making grimy brown stripes on the gold leather. At this point, they are all going to hate me anyway, I'm to tomboyish to be a princess. Even I know that's stereotypical of me, but judging from the carriages, they are stereotyped too.
"Please stop," the driver says. "You will ruin. the fabric."
"So?" I reply. "Why do I care about the stupid faux (said fow) leather on this souped-up car?" I argue. "I'd do anything just to not go to this school."
"Quit your babbling. We're here," the driver says. I jangle the keychains on my satchel on purpose as I put it on just to annoy him.
I look ahead and behind me and see another dozen or more carriages identical to mine, each carrying one or more girls my age or older. I step out and look so out of place amongst dresses and skirts and blouses. I look at my simple t-shirt and jeans adorned with hand-embroidered cards. I look at my satchel, so small compared to so many other girls' suitcases and harbors and purses.
(January 22, 2017 - 3:33 am)
No offense Lucy B., but I don't think they had t-shirts in 1523
(January 22, 2017 - 7:22 pm)