Amat Victoria Curam

rp account for The Duke from Resident Evil Village 18+ | heavily headcanon based and canon agnostic written by meg

[marchandmodeste]

Just randomly remembered this song. open your heart and let the duke be your bff (big friend forever)

[marchandmodeste]

[ 🌂 ] - neither sender nor receiver are in possession of an umbrella and it's raining heavy (saying rain because haha rain)

The Duke throws his hands up and laughs in a kind of resigned disbelief. It's a 'this might as well happen' sort of laugh. The rain is heavy enough that it's less than a minute before his pale hair is flattened to the sides of his head, his shirt is clinging to his body, and he has to blink drops of water out of his eyelashes.

"And in my infinite wisdom," the Duke says, "I didn't even wear an overcoat."

He turns to Rain with a smile.

"Nominative determinism, hm?" he jokes. He holds one arm out over her head. "Here, maybe this will block some of it."

[marchandmodeste]

[ 🚪 ] - sender shows up at receiver's door soaking wet

"What on earth-"

The fire crackles to life and is roaring within seconds of the door opening, as soon as the Duke sees that Lucy needs to be warmed up. (The caravan's taken a liking to her- it doesn't want her to fall ill.)

The Duke ushers her in with what might best be called a friendly urgency.

"Please, join me," he says. "No-one should be outdoors in this weather. I'll put some tea on and fetch a towel."

[marchandmodeste]

“You need to stop stocking things that want to talk to me.” (nadine)

"Why, don't you like the company?"

The Duke picks up a crystalised skull from the table and gives it a polish with his handkerchief. He can hear them all talking too, but he's just gotten used to it. He and the stock are like an old married couple where everyone's run out of interesting things to talk about.

"It never bothers my other customers..."

[dimitresca]

❝ You promised me a tarot reading, ❞ she reminds him, when they're put sitting at the same table at some godawful social event for some godawful mutual friend. The Duke enjoys, she quietly suspects, to watch all those rich, untalented hacks eat the little artists up like hors d'oeuvres, before picking their teeth clean with little bones.

She's watching such a process unfold now: her husband, the hack financier who self-brands as producer, is staring longingly at some teenager's under-developed breasts. It's humiliating.

So, she's decided to humiliate him right back. He's very insecure about the Duke. She expects because the Duke is charming, witty, more intelligent than he, and because last winter she made a passing comment about how he needed to eat more slowly because he was in the top three for fattest pigs in the room, alongside the Duke, and the actual hog-roast. She made it clear, too, that he didn't come third. Oh, he'd given as good as he'd gotten after, but it had been worth it.

She doesn't know the Duke well, really, but since the birth of her daughter, she's been out more on Gil's arm, he dutiful wife. The living repellent for all accusations of untowardness. She glares at her husband across the room. She flashes the Duke a glittering smile, and slides into the seat beside his booth. ❝ I hope you're not leaving before you give me that. ❞ Sometimes she wonders if she's charming at all, or if she's just very bossy and gifted with the sort of beauty that many women would kill to have. it's always scary, settling in beside someone one doesn't know as well. She bats her eyelashes, and prays to God that she doesn't have to start this whole strategy again on a man she doesn't know, or likes considerably less.

@marchandmodeste

[marchandmodeste]

The Duke is here for his own entertainment first and foremost. Needless to say, he was thrilled to see Gil on the guest list- not because he particularly wants to speak to Gil, but because Gil will no doubt be bringing his wife. He's never been able to make his own relationships work for very long, but he has a sixth sense for when other people's wives are unhappy.

As he does whenever there's a big event, the Duke spends just enough time mingling to prove that he's interesting, then finds himself a seat in the corner where he can sit and wait for people to come to him. Usually it's either those who remember him from the last one of these. Sometimes it's strangers who caught the tail end of his story about the documentary crew and the antique torture rack and decided they couldn't leave the party without talking to the Duke and figuring out what exactly his deal is.

"Alcina, you look stunning." His tone is adoring, borderline reverent. His voice is hopefully loud enough that it gets Gil's ears perking up.

He swirls some wine around in its glass before taking a sip.

"Heaven forbid." He digs around in his jacket pocket until he finds what he's looking for- a pack of cards. He's got the Crowley deck with him tonight, or at least a cheap approximation of it. (He keeps the nice cards in a lacquer box at home.) He opens the box, tapping the bottom against his palm like it's a pack of cigarettes before dumping them out on the table.

"I can do this a few different ways," he explains, stacking the cards and shuffling them. "One card for an answer to a specific question, three cards for a more holistic look at your past, present, and future. Your choice."

[marchandmodeste]

I think the caravan might be alive. Not like...alive alive, but you know. I think it has a will and a personality.

[heisenbraggin]

Fingers twitched. There were noises much worse that ought to come out from the factory - but the wailing bunch o' hysterical bitchez grated brink of his nerves on another level. Despite easy lilt teeth pressed tighter against the wrapper of cigar's body and the cherry burns bright red; reflecting ominously in mirror blackness of round of lenses, '' Why next month … should I believe there's no damn plug or things alike in y'castle on wheelz, right now? '' @marchandmodeste ┊ cont.

[marchandmodeste]

The Duke hums, brow furrowed.

"Well, perhaps I do," he says. "But not right this moment. if you want them this month, I'll have to go looking for them."

The Duke's castle on wheels, as Karl is facetiously calling it, is a disorganised mess, and everyone in the village knows it. And it's temperamental as well- sometimes the Duke can reach into his pocket and pull out exactly what you asked for, other times he needs to go digging in all the boxes and suitcases and hidden drawers.

"For a little extra, though," the Duke smirks. "Perhaps I'd be willing to put in the effort..."

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

"Depends on what you count as exciting. But I guess I'm unusual, if nothing else."

Somehow, he imagines that even the likes of this one does not consider the mayhem that permanently trails behind him anywhere he goes as anything other than an annoyance. Still, he applies the mixture as instructed, nodding as a way of indicating he is still listening to the Duke.

"Good to know, I guess. If I need a top-up, I know who to look for out here. Can't imagine it's gonna be cheap, though. Unless you have a drone somehow airdropping your restocks into this place."

Novel idea, one that almost makes him smirk just based on how ridiculous the imagery of a tiny drone trying to battle the cold and snow to deliver packages would be. "Town seems awfully quiet right now. They all gone for the winter or something?"

[marchandmodeste]

"Unusual is typically quite interesting," the Duke says. "At least, it is to me. Unless I'm in the company of exclusively unusual people- in that case a boring person can seem far more exciting for the contrast."

He sighs heavily, relieved to see the potion working its magic. The wound will close on its own in no time.

He chuckles at HUNK's question about price. Yes, it will be expensive, he doesn't say out loud, because that would be bad for business.

"I look forward to seeing you again," he says, instead. "Lord knows I need the business."

He looks around them - all the trees dead, some of the homes burnt, the paths covered in snow in the absence of people to shovel it.

"If one considers all the possible definitions of the word 'gone'." The Duke grimaces. "Nasty business. It wasn't always this quiet."

[marchandmodeste]

reading SCP 4000 and I kinda need that sauce for the Duke I think.

[scrapmemes]

SOPPING WET SCENARIOS ( add + inv for the scenario to be inversed )

[ ☂️ ] - sender finds receiver without an umbrella and it's raining heavy

[ 🌂 ] - neither sender nor receiver are in possession of an umbrella and it's raining heavy

[ 🚪 ] - sender shows up at receiver's door soaking wet

[ 🏠 ] - both parties are stuck at either party's home due to a heavy storm

[ 🧽 ] - both parties have to clean up after a storm

[ 🔍 ] - sender finds the receiver trying to find something that has been lost in a body of water

[ 🚗 ] - sender finds the receiver and their vehicle impeded by heavy weather

[ 🏊‍♂️ ] - both parties go swimming

[ 🌊 ] - sender has to rescue receiver from almost drowning

[ 🚿 ] - sender walks in on receiver taking a shower

[ 🚽 ] - sender walks in on receiver taking a piss

[ 🏝 ] - both parties are stranded on an islet

[ 🪼 ] - sender finds receiver floating face down in the water

[taskmastercaps]

[ID: Nine screencaps from Taskmaster. Sally Phillips pours turquoise liquid from a jar onto a piece of toast, saying, “This is the best Marmite because it is not Marmite. It’s absinthe.” She watches Alex Horne take a bite of toast. He covers his mouth with one hand and says, “Oh my God.” Grinning, Sally bites the toast, and laughs as they both struggle to cope. Sally says, “Come on, that’s amazing.” Wide-eyed, Alex replies, “Yeah, it is amazing. I really feel drunk.” End ID.]

[thyenemybeloved]

RE8 Dukeposting ✨

Lady Dimitrescu WHO?? Been watching my brother play Resident Evil: Village and I'm enamoured with the Duke 🫶😌 He's such a bro, literally the only sane or happy person in that game lmao I'm pretty satisfied with how his face turned out, I think his smile looks cute! :) But what even is his haircut man 😭 Stay tuned for more WIPs and the uncropped version in the near future :D

(also, don't mind his floating hand… he's gonna be holding something precious… 👀 *cough* *cough* it's Ethan)

[brittsmemes]

WIFE / HUSBAND APPLICATION:

Name: 

Age: 

How well do we know each other?: 

Do you have a pet name for me?: 

Do I have a pet name for you?: 

Are you attracted to me?: 

Why do you want to marry me?: 

Big wedding or Small wedding?: 

Do you see children in our future?: 

[fidget-sinner]

En Anglais, on ne dit pas “quatre vingt dix neuf”, on dit “ninety nine” qu'on pourrait traduire comme “Hurr durr, regardez mois, j'ai un système de numérotation fonctionnel” et je crois que c'est magnifique.

[armasources]

Red, green, and blue herbs & typewriter with an ink ribbon.

RE engine variants.

[ghrahm]

Ashley mulls over what fun could mean in this context. The fun of testing a new weapon? Leon donned that same excitement, the giddiest she'd seen, far removed from his usual equipment... or his presumed usual equipment. Tactical knives, handcannons, grenades, she all knew they existed -- but to see them play out, to hear the blood rush in her ears, to feel the earth shake underfoot is a new sensation entirely.

It's not what Ashley would deem fun, but her task isn't escorting the President's Daughter. She has less need for things like that, less of an idea of what's applicable, which conduct was most favorable, and maybe Duke shared that same definition. Alien as it seemed, it was nice to witness a smile that wasn't sheered in maliciousness. Ashley musters a smile of her own, more soft than disjointed.

"Yeah, it'd make sense with our lifestyles that our ideas of fun would be different. Well... I know you like selling, and presumably testing, your merchandise, so... maybe it's not the right time or place, but..."

Her eye is studying, not scrutinizing. Duke uniforms himself in classics, button-up and pristine. His language, too, leans toward the dramatics, as is his - usually graphic - descriptions.

"Did you like theater? Or, like, do you like theater? Currently? That's usually meant in a weirdly judgmental way, I don't mean it like that, but you remind me of some of the Theater & Drama majors I shared a lecture with. They all had a similar flair, but... all unique to them."

Her wandering gaze shifts to a narrow.

"If that makes any sense."

When was the last time anything made any sense? It was Wednesday, she thinks. Or maybe Tuesday. If she thinks hard enough, she makes out the shape of her calendar, the scrawl of her handwriting, done in a haste. She saw some of them not long ago, she thinks. All the dates, all the voices, are in a fog.

Not making sense isn't the worst thing she could do in this instance.

"If not, you'd make a killer understudy. Not... a killer understudy, you'd just - you'd be a good understudy is what I'm going for. I cooould also see you grabbing the lead role in something dangerous and romantic. Maybe a 'lovers torn apart by fate' sort of thing."

[marchandmodeste]

"Well," he chuckles lightly. "I was using the word 'fun' somewhat facetiously, I'll admit. But don't get me wrong- I love what I do. I love making guns and making money. I think I'm reasonably good at both."

None of these guns are his, though. Well, maybe a few- there are a couple of hunting rifles and small caliber pistols on the rack that possess the Duke's distinct decorative flair. But it's not his shop, technically. He's just keeping the place warm for a friend. He's being paid for his efforts in sparkling wine and fresh seafood.

His eyes light up when she mentions the theatre. Finally, perhaps he's met a fellow person of culture.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he says. "Opera especially. I saw a fantastic production of Don Giovanni not too long ago."

The Duke is beaming, almost smug- he loves when people tell them what they think of him, as long as it's positive of course. He fixes his bow-tie and straightens his shirt lapels as soon as he can tell Ashley's looking at his clothes. Never one to leave a bad impression.

He laughs in partial disbelief at her final assessment of him.

"Understudy to whom?" he asks. "I daresay the audience would be able to tell the difference immediately..."

The Duke thinks a bit, allowing himself a moment of fancy where he's onstage, having roses thrown at him.

"Dangerous and Romantic," he repeats. "I think I could do that, certainly."

He clears his throat.

"And you, what do you study if it's not the theatre?"

[marchandmodeste]

❝ stop pouting, i brought something that'll cheer you up. ❞ it's Miranda's crystalized remains- @diedindulvey (Ethan taking Miranda's place verse?)

"I wasn't pouting," the Duke insists.

But he was, just a little. Of course he was, there was a chance that Ethan wouldn't come back. Not an outsized chance, but the Duke is cursed with always being able to see multiple outcomes, even the bad ones.

His tune changes pretty quickly when he sees the crystal in Ethan's hand. The Duke's eyes widen and he lets out a short, loud laugh, out of a mixture of shock triumph. Finally, the thorn is out.

"Ethan, I could kiss you right now."