&&. announcing his grace, ALEXANDER ESTERHÁZY-KOHÁRY, the thirty-one year old DUKE OF WESTERN TRANSDANUBIA. he is often confused with aaron taylor-johnson. some say that he is foolhardy & superstitious, but he is actually perceptive & resolute.
SUMMARY
slovakia’s history really starts where the treaty of trianon came in, giving way to czechoslovakia around 1918. it was the story brothers, a cain and able sort of story three generations prior that split slovakia and the czech republic to what it has become today and from that line came two more brothers, žigmund and alexander, two of many, but two that held important titles, žigmund the crown prince of slovakia and alexander the duke of western transdanubia, taken over from his mother’s former title of duchess. it wouldn’t be until later that the brother’s would utilize more than just the title she passed down, but a lineage as well, an important one, a habsburg branch.
so, what happened is after czechoslovakia’s independence the two eldest brothers basically fought and sabotaged until the only solution was to split, and so they did into what is now slovakia and czech republic. do they get along three generations later? maybe. maybe not. no, i really don’t know yet.
most were surprised that the brothers go along so well as every generation prior that hadn’t been the case, in fact, it’d almost been a curse but where one went the other seemed to follow. it was almost as if where ones talents and attributes were lacking, the other had it. so as they grew decisions were made almost always together and worked out when it had been done together. maybe being superstitious was just part of their nature but the few times they had done something without consulting the other for advice, disastrous.
on the same note, while they made decisions together that were beneficial, they also made decisions that got them into trouble. alexander was always the ‘ act before thinking ’ one of the two, or at least, don’t think too much because it’ll be over before it happens sort of person so when alexander decided to take up the cause dear old dad had attempted to work out behind the scenes, it wasn’t long before the brothers began to get ideas of how things might have looked, might have been different with their habsburg branch on the throne in the beginning of the 20th century. how different the croÿ family might have been then. it was impulsive of course, but the idea has been planted and all it can do is grow.
and because this didn’t fit into the other parts of his about, he’s recently a retired defender for real madrid after acquiring his mother’s title for western transdanubia she passed down within the last year.
TLDR : very close to his brother, played as a defender for real madrid #5 until very recently and took over his mother’s duchy title within the year or so
CONNECTIONS
any one he can toss around a ball with , watch football , etc , etc.
fights will be had at events , it’ll happen or has or both
exes , hookups ( bad / good )etc , he’s kinda intense so 99.9 of these are gonna stick for too long
that one group of friends . the ones that just don’t get on and there’s a high chance something bad will happen if they ave to stay around each other too long
siblings. czech republic cousins? second cousins? something like that
&&. announcing her royal highness, ( yi “camilla” gahye ), the ( 31 ) year old ( princess ) of ( south korea ). she is often confused with ( lim ji yeon ). some say that she is ( tenuous & conniving ), but she is actually ( disciplined & polished ). ( ooc: ashley )
her early life can be described with one word: unnoteworthy. the second daughter was brushed under the rug in hopes the next would be a son.
because of this she finds her independence easily. growing up there always seemed to be something more important than her occurring at all times. at a young age, she knew how to handle her own matters. permission slips from school went to woong, her mother’s assistant, when she was hungry, she’d find mi-hi to send word to the kitchen. unless she was dying, bothering her parents was out of the question. in comparison to dahye, her disposition is seen as temperate.
she thrives socially, mostly because it is the only place people care about her, and really care. her quietness dissipates almost as soon as she steps foot outside the imperial palace, the urge to blend into the shadows doesn’t follow her. she makes a good group of friends and follows their path to university.
her friends from university were always so brilliant. by surrounding herself with great minded company, she hoped even just a little of their passion would rub on to her. though not royalty, she saw her friends become powerful business women, ground breaking scientists, talented artists ... she envied people with a dream, a talent, a calling. but despite her best efforts, nothing ever came. it was then her parents began throwing names of suitors at her, none ever particularly satiating. she struggled through her fine arts degree. she let jealousy eat away at her slowly, until the perfect proposition fell onto her lap. the emperor of china.
once the idea of empress started to become real, it became evidently clear this was her calling. she felt she had to do very little to be impressive. and not to mention, her mother has never smiled at her so largely! it had started to feel like she had been waiting all her life for this, unbeknownst to her, the deep rooted feeling of inferiority began to dwindle, and it had never occurred to her this was something she wanted in the first place.
that’s not to say jianguo didn’t have a part in her fate. his kindness and cleverness made it impossible to say no to. it was her third visit to the palace that made her future all too clear in her mind. she loved the life, she loved the people, she loved him.
then came the whirlwind. the white dresses, the florists, the never ending list of guests. her life became consumed by duty. and finally, the coronation. she’d never forget how tightly her father hugged her that day. and for a few years, things flowed smoothly, her life worked perfectly. wenli’s birth was the natural order of events. she had impressive feats to display next to her name, shiny achievements to show her friends and family.
the most difficult part was learning how to navigate the chinese imperial family. she had experience a coldness in her family, but not to the jin’s extent. after extended kindnesses, she was quick to learn they operated better in their own bubbles. jianguo’s side of the story was the only story she knows, or knew.
for years, gahye has tried her best. she has trusted her husband and his disposition, willing to stand beside his decisions. writing off lixue’s disdain was easier than inserting herself. she allowed the infighting because of the sureness she felt in her position. everything felt like taunts, until the escalations made her world come crashing down.
a year of captivity in the palace does not exactly breed understanding. no, a year in captivity breeds resentment. a year without contact with her husband, only to find out about his death through palace staff ? no, this does not bode for forgiveness. it bodes for revenge.
&&. is that ( Chris Evans )?? no, it’s just ( Andrés Federico de Moncada ). he is the ( Dowager King Regent ) of ( Greece ). he is ( 41 ) years old and his birthday is the ( 5th ) of ( October ) which makes him a ( Libra ). he is ( ambitious & resourceful ) and ( sarcastic & freewheeling ) but, unfortunately, also ( materialistic & egocentric ). those traits just make him a ( Slytherin ) and in scientific terms an ( ENFP ). he is ( heterosexual ) and the plaza’s ( the philanderer ). His theme song is ( Ballad of a Politician ) by ( Regina Spektor ). his interests include ( Origami & Reading ). He practices ( no religion ) and is a supporter of ( sergi & ASS ). his quirk is ( cracking his fingers one at a time when he’s in deep thought ) and favorite quote is ( If you must break the law, do it to seize power: in all other cases observe it.) by ( Julius Caesar ) because ( for him power is the one thing he ever wanted and has been working for his whole life. ). last but not least he ( does ) believe in true love.
you don't know Andrés? How's it like to live my dream?
this is actually a starter post - tell me for who thx
&&. announcing her royal highness, YASMIN ALIA HASSAN, the twenty-eight year old CROWN PRINCESS OF MOROCCO. he is often confused with imaan hammam. some say that she is controlling & underhanded, but she is actually driven & perceptive.
SUMMARY
everything is fair in a game where rules are discarded for country. yasmin has pulled at the tapestry strings ever since she knew she could — a young age. it was always very lady macbeth of her to watch from behind the scenes as her father ruled from the golden throne and she held the nobility in the palm of her hand. a gift, it might be said, she learned from not her mother ( who’d passed away at an untimely age for a twelve year old girl ) but her grandmother. the woman was cunning, manipulative and in every sense of the word, utterly astonishing. yasmin wanted nothing more to became that which no one would expect.
as a child she was soft spoken, shy and her younger brother often took center stage. most would have been wise to assume he’d become the next in line, he was favored to be after all, named after their father even, but it was yasmin who had proved herself above him in education, diplomacy and the public’s favor. it wasn’t just who was better, it was who wanted it. mohammed vii despised a future as a king ( at least the duties that would accompany it ) though he didn’t know that, not until his seventeenth birthday when a nearly public incident destroyed their perfectly curated reputation at mohammed vii’s hands.
from then, he was kept in the shadows, rumors of an illness spread, but in truth it was the sabotage that nearly happened time and time again each time her brother was given any amount of trust. yasmin had warned her father of this and gladly up her role as the crown royal to be once her father saw fit. it was the first time yasmin truly saw how the strings could be pulled behind the scene, that effortless tug which from then on she perfected. her image to the public was king and generous and while there was truth to that, she wasn’t only such things and in the war of politics, she couldn’t afford to be.
her life was to be about how much she could control, which is why when yasmin had met reginald zulu, things became . . . complicated. there were emotions and feelings that over time had become out of her control and that scared her. her country? she could handle. her family? politicians? it all felt like second nature, but the crown prince of zimbabwe? a risk she didn’t want to take. yasmin broke up with him before she had lost control of those feelings, the ones she couldn’t reign in so effortlessly with the excuse that he couldn’t benefit the future of morocco and she’d grown tired of him.
him being one of the very reasons she’d waited to join the program, which now had been on behalf of her country and the networking benefits that far outweighed any cons she could fathom, which seemed to become a more pressing matter as time passed. the sudden need a possible secret morocco has kept hidden? maybe.
CONT.
recent developments, aka the event have left yasmin wishing she would have just trusted her instinct and not joined the program after all.
&&. announcing his royal highness, ( casimir marek sobieski ), the ( 26 ) year old ( prince ) of ( poland ). he is often confused with ( evan mock ). some say that he is ( obstinate and unhelpful ), but he is actually ( inquisitive and unconventional ).
hellooooo :’) stumbles in with my luggage strewn everywhere..running around like a headless chicken <3 im tasha im so so super excited to be here and if u’d like to plot my ims r open or we can def do discord if u’d prefer - i look forward 2 writing w everyone !!
basics.
name: casimir marek sobieski
nickname: cas or casi
ethnicity: polish and filipino
age: twenty-six
birthday: april 11th, 1996
sun and moon: aries sun aquarius moon
gender and pronouns: cis male, he/him
sexual orientation: bisexual
title: prince of poland
education: swiss boarding/int’l school (11-18), university of sorbonne (18-25)
languages: english, tagalog, cibuano, thai (poorly but he’ll say he’s fluent), french.
bio.
cas remembers when he was small very well — a rambunctious tot, he was always running into the arms of someone who adored him: whether they were paid to to not. staff would crack a smile before straightening his collar and sending him on his way. the general public fawned over him, back when his cheeks were still full and softened by baby fat, and all he had to was look cute. he was perfectly delighted to do so. wedged between his sisters, he basked in the shade they unwittingly give him and got used to not being scrutinized.
so he thinks it’s pretty sad, that he never got his fair share of childhood. that his hair always got cut too close to the scalp even though he wanted to wear it long, and that he used to be able to come in from the garden with muddy knees without getting a telling off, in fact his mother was even sometimes endeared. he doesn’t know exactly when it turned to exasperation, only that it did — and he got away with much less, almost nothing. though a sharp, eidetic memory doesn’t let him be whipped into shape and written over with the rites of royalty, all the niceties and modesty. because he remembers five years old and six, seven and eight too well. he remembers nine years old and ten, all the years he was allowed to be a kid. so at eleven it feels downright oppressive for it to be taken from him.
it doesn’t take long for him to shipped off to boarding school. one day at home he’s running down the glossed, wooden floors in his socks when he falls and breaks his wrist. the end of his bedrest is rewarded by his parents telling him he’ll be attending a prestigious all-boys school in switzerland. it was a blessing in disguise, with the range of extracurriculars the school provided and a forgiving grading system, he was well-occupied within the insular borders of the campus and more importantly, never felt the need to act out at any family/political gatherings he had to attend. the public ogled at the glimpses they got of him, on the right track to grow into someone like his older sister, anticipating it.
without the last strictures of boarding school, university is where he thrives. it’s also where he falls out of favour with the public and his parents alike, a favour he never really knew he had to begin with (he can’t fathom how anyone could form an opinion on him through posing for pictures). stubborn to a fault, cas will only ever believe that he’s living, and it’s not his fault if other people find it offensive. he enrols in university as a part-time student, and over the course of seven years and three summer abroads he graduates. he always shows up when he’s called back home, he’s never missed an appearance, even if he has to board a jet still drunk. some months after he graduates his father calls him back. casi half expects to be greeted with a congratulatory party on his long overdue graduation. instead, his father has a wish, a request, a dying one at that, that sends him packing. he enrols in the program partly for his father, and partly because he’s got nothing else going on.
personality.
he’s significantly more chipper when he’s intoxicated, so his cockiness isn’t as irritating as it is when he’s sober. quite self-concerned, and has a sort of smile where you don’t know if it’s going to break out into a laugh that’s at you or with you. sometimes hard to discern whether he’s joking or not, will debate with you then drop it the next second if something else catches his attention (a grumble in his stomach, a bird outside), makes pretty snap-judgements but is never intentionally cruel, he’s quite easy to get along with but can be intense, but it’s really nothing to be scared of. a bit of a contrarian for giggles!
headcanons. (some are vaguely nsfw but nothing graphic!)
has never overtly had a scandal, like he was never caught outright doing drugs or having sex etc but the energy that he carries implies that he would be the type of person who would do that. so it’s very easy to NOT give him the benefit of the doubt when he’s pictured in potentially compromising situations.
studied a variety of subjects, would literally go to any class that seemed interesting but settled, maybe in his fourth year or so, taking mostly philosophy and sociology classes. one of his first tik tok’s was just him being like ‘you can literally just walk into any class, professors don’t care, they don’t take attendance after the first week.’ a notorious replier to comments, a troll, plays dumb when he gets hate comments very ‘you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid’ energy. really enjoyed university but definitely because he had the luxury of taking it at his own pace and taking sometimes, semester-long breaks, in between summer abroads.
always feels as though he gets roped into doing business when he’s home in poland which has made him pretty averse to going home other than when he was called to which is a shame because he knows there’s so much to poland than through the lens he’s sees it in and genuinely knows he’s actually a pretty big family guy because whenever he visits family in the philippines he literally never wants to leave.
a non-exhaustive list of scandals that he will say are not scandals at all: attended london fashion week and these were his looks, posted a replica of this exact picture on his insta (which has everything you’d find on a finsta) but he’s reading the rise and fall of the great powers, an insane amount of instagram lives where he’s just vibing to music while in a taxi on the way to dinner or on a plane back home, says ask me questions then replies to like two of them, 24 hour charity twitch stream raising funds for threatened and endangered sea creatures where he sat in the tub in his boxers but when he got out to get the sushi he ubereat’d his boxers stuck to his pee pee which resulted in a tumblr post like this which gained far too much traction, also people thought him eating sushi was a bit insensitive. lastly, a weekend-long art exhibit entitled ME, with was a room consisting of old televisions with him doing what could only be construed as salacious acts on them - one tv with a video of him snorting an unidentifiable white powder, every tv has a piece of masking tape on it and written on this one is: THIS IS NOT COCAINE. another tv with really zoomed in on a dick with a hand around it, the masking tape says: THIS IS NOT MY PENIS. etc etc. (and it wasn’t but he never divulged that because that’s the whole point of the exhibit but admittedly also what probably sent his father over the edge).
&&. announcing his royal highness, ( niklaus laurent oskar von grünenberg ), the ( 26 ) year old ( prince ) of ( switzerland ). he is often confused with ( herman tømmeraas ). some say that he is ( a moron ), but he is actually ( a moron, but very fun ).
NAME: niklaus laurent oskar von grünenberg
KNOWN AS: klaus, the evil twin, nik/nick (it’s his ‘fratsona’, used mainly by his frat brothers in america), the annoying one, dj sloppy sixths
BIRTHDATE: august 16, 1997
ASTROLOGY: leo sun/aquarius moon/aries rising
GENDER: cis man (he/him)
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual (though he doesn’t mind being grouped into bi)
FAMILY: max, hans, heinrich, ren, and sylvie (siblings), catherine (sister-in-law), freddie (nephew), elyse (cousin). (there’s probably more i’m missing, i’ll add them later)
TLDR;
he and sylvie are the twin youngest swiss siblings. they lost their dad before they developed object permanence
growing up in such a crowded household, klaus figured out the best way to get attention was to be outrageous. it kind of became his defining trait.
sylvie truly carries all of his braincells
he started getting into fights for fun as he got older, found out he was pretty good at it. and that you got even more attention for it.
he’s known to tell mostly untrue stories just for the gag of it all. they tend to be heavily embellished, but they’re usually entertaining. and that’s what he thinks really matters.
this man has made multiple life decisions based off of movies.
almost got kicked out of le rosey for starting a fight club
went to america for college to get his party on, ended up getting connected to influencers.
he’s gotten into celebrity boxing this year and is very good at it. catch his next pay per view match.
he’s fought whoever the hshq-verse jake paul is (and won)
there’s probably a tiktok of him doing the renegade out there. he’s not allowed a personal tiktok anymore.
he also moonlights as a dj. he wears a mask while he does it, to “preserve his identity.”
he got tricked into joining the program, he thought his dj career was about to pop off with a show in ibiza. there was no show.
he will start fights, bet on fights, etc. he will also hit on married people, he doesn’t usually expected it to work.
basically, he’s a messy bitch who lives for drama.
BIO;
As the youngest and least politically significant Grünenberg son, it is likely that most of the headlines or information most people have read about the boy has more to do with his boxing career than it does with any consequential decisions he's made for the Swiss people. Perhaps an article on his military service, a gym selfie, or a party he was kicked out of sprinkled in for good measure. But those articles are different, those are filler pieces, they’re tabloid fodder. The headlines, the places where he has actual impact, is in the sports sections and the pay per view.
Even before he made his name as a celebrity boxer fighting everyone’s least favorite personalities, Klaus had been practicing. Though, at the time, he hadn’t quite anticipated what he was preparing for. So, in a review of his past, in only makes sense to view it through the lens of some of the most notable fights in his past. The dust-ups that brought this prince into the king (of celebrity boxing matches for charity. Not of Switzerland):
Klaus vs. Grünenbergs
It was a dark and stormy night that Klaus was born, just how he liked it. The flashes of lightning and rolling of thunder carrying just the amount of drama and mood setting that the youngest prince would one day come to desire and respect. Niklaus ‘Klaus’ Laurent Oskar Grünenberg, a natural superstar, was born into an already very crowded house, where he already had a rapt audience, awaiting his debut. Max, when trying to assert how he was so old and mature, would tell him how he was in the study with their father and many other important men, awaiting the news of their birth. Klaus took a very different message from this not-really-a-flex from his older brother. He was born to a captivated, not captive, audience. It only made sense. Of course people were excited to see him. He was about to bring some more fun and drama into the lives of the family.
That had been the plan, to be the beloved twins to a happy family. But mere months after the twins were born, Switzerland’s beloved king died in a skiing accident. How Swiss of him. Naturally, it devastated both the family and the nation. Well, most of the family. The twins were still working on their object permanence. Klaus has no real memories of his father. He’d heard stories from those that knew him, his mom and older brothers, and from some of the citizens. It seemed like everyone had a glowing opinion of the man. Klaus has even read articles on him (Klaus knows how to read? Shocking, I know). But none of that ever really replaced that feeling like something was missing. And it was mostly that, a yearning, missing a man he never really knew. But it wasn’t a deep mourning that he saw the echoes of in his mother or siblings or nation. It was just...absence. It was a glaringly empty seat in the audience of his life, whether literal or metaphorical. A seat no one could or would ever fill, no matter how much they tried.
In the wake of loss, there was a splintering of many of those old enough to remember. Max, off to training to be the next king, Hans as a back up (who knew when the next tragedy would strike), Uncle Dorian stepping in to fill the throne, and Mom spreading herself so thin, she often looked like she would break. And for the youngest of the group, they were to be raised in the shadow of death. It was already hard, being the fifth of sixth children, to find his way into the limelight. There were so many of them, and only a limited number of nannies. And when everything was in shadow, it was even harder to find the spotlight. At least his sister had being the first and only princess of Switzerland to her credit. He was just the youngest son. Voted “Least Likely To Inherit The Throne” and therefore, least important.
So, who was he supposed to become? When your family already had an heir, a genius, a peacemaker, a prodigy, and a darling, what else was he supposed to become other than outrageous? How else was Klaus supposed to get the attention he needed, if not for saying and doing things only to raise eyebrows and give those around him premature grey hairs? It was the only natural conclusion. He had to fight for the love and attention he needed. Outrageousness was the only way to exist.
Klaus vs. Ski Lift
It took Klaus and Sylvie at least 11 years to get their mother to allow them onto the slopes. Some of the siblings took an approach called “logic” or “reason”. They told her how only 38 people died on average per year, or how when you’re skiing, there was a 0.69/1,000,000 rate of fatal injury. Dad’s accident had been a freak occurrence. So rare, that it was investigated by multiple Swiss agencies to figure out just what added up to such a tragic event.
But Klaus’ reasoning was so much simpler. He wasn’t interested in skiing. He wanted to go snowboarding. He was going from 2 wooden sticks to 1. It was a completely different thing from skiing all together. And besides, how was he going to be a Real Swiss if he wasn’t allowed to ski?
For some reason, his reasoning wasn’t as effective with their mother as some of the other siblings’.
Now, once the twins get on the slopes, this is where stories get a little hazy. If you ask Klaus, depending on how many drinks he’s had, when you ask him, where you ask him, how big the crowd is, and what he thinks might be funniest, you will get different stories about exactly what happened. What everyone chooses to believe tends to be more of a Rorschach test on how much they witnessed and their own opinions on the credibility of Klaus’ claims.
Most stories seem to corroborate that he had been snowboarding for a few years at this point. He wasn’t going to give his mother a heart attack first time at the alps. That was a surefire way to end his snowboarding career before it could really begin. No, it had to be a few years into it. Stories differ on if the events happened early on in the day or if it was in the afternoon after a few runs. Regardless, all tellings indicate that he got on the ski lift with Sylvie, naturally. It was a rare occurrence to see them separated at that age.
The tale quickly becomes a choose-your-own-adventure from there. Sometimes, Klaus claims that he fell off the ski lift, that it was really just an accident. Sometimes he likes to add in that he rolled down and started becoming a large snowball, rolling up everything in his path. Naturally, credulity is stretched at that point. Other times, Klaus likes to entertain the idea that it was a dare. Sylvie, or perhaps another sibling, friend, or even just someone he met on the slopes that day, dared him to jump off, land on his board, and snowboard down to the bottom. For a little more of a dramatic flair, there’s the occasional whispering that Sylvie actually pushed him off, that it was a prank from his cruel, cruel, twin that he loved so very much. Once, and only once, Klaus made the claim that the ski lift suddenly lurched to a stop and threw him off the ski lift, making him land face down in the snow. Somehow, others were not thrown off at the same time in this single retelling of events.
Regardless of how he fell off the ski lift, most stories mention spraining one or both of his ankles and getting a bloody nose. Usually, there is a fractured wrist mentioned. Once or twice he claimed he left a ‘trail of blood’ going back to the lounge that ‘attracted wolves’. Another time, he claimed it froze on the tip of his nose and gave him a blood icicle coming off his nose by the time he got to a medic.
Who is to say what the truth was? After all, he has fallen off a ski lift three different times. So, who is to say that all of these stories don’t have some drop of truth to them? They certainly all have at least one drop of blood.
Klaus vs. Le Rosey
Really, this shouldn't even be seen as a fight. This was a gift that Klaus brought to the very prestigious boarding school. It's bold to claim that a 16 year old was bringing a gift to a world-renowned boarding school. However, what else would you call it when he single-handedly forced the Swiss crown into funding a new sports program?
It started innocently enough. Klaus, having seen Fight Club and being very much entranced at this idea of fraternal bonding over a split lip or two, decided that he too was interested in this sort of brotherhood. It wasn’t that hard, really. He mentioned it to a few of his teammates, and before long he had word spreading amongst the rugby team. Who, when they heard such a brilliant idea, took it to the ice hockey, basketball, and cross country teams. Before long, there was a group of boys meeting up, secretly, in a rather untraveled part of the campus, to recreate the iconic movie. It was usually at night, under the claim of “study group.”
It was rare that an idea of Klaus’ actually became as successful as his fight club did. He’d expected perhaps a handful of his friends, but every week, it seemed to bring even more boys. Every week, the lies, the sneaking around, the fighting, it was all exhilarating. In fact, the bedtimes after, he would sometimes struggle to sleep, his heart still pumping with so much adrenaline.
Truthfully, it was a learning experience. They learned how to fight better, some “self defense”, how to lie a little bit better. It was a social club, a fraternizing event, if you will. Even the boys who didn’t fight as much, they still seemed to bond and benefit from attending each week. Collectively keeping the secret, helping their friends, and being apart of the thrall of excitement, it was trust-building and strengthened all their relationships.
Klaus still maintains that he would’ve gotten away with it for longer than a couple of months if the group hadn’t got so big. It was his own fault for being so popular and having such genius ideas.
Anyways, when they got busted, because a teacher came looking for them to “check up on them” or whatever, some of the less loyal in the fight club ratted him out as the instigator. One thing lead to another, and he was sitting in the headmasters’ office about to be expelled. Just because he was providing another extracurricular club that was “unsanctioned,” that was worth kicking him out? It seemed a little extreme, if you asked Klaus.
Max, for once in his life, seemed to see reason, and was fighting the school to keep him enrolled. He tried to argue about how Klaus was maintaining his grades, was doing very well socially, and was one of the best rugby players on the team. And Max was correct! He was an important part of the Roséen social fabric. That didn’t seem to be enough on it’s face, though. They still wanted to kick him out. Klaus wanted to tell them to just do it, then, but luckily Sylvie was able to come talk some sense in to him.
Though Le Rosey will continue to maintain they do not accept any donations from families and that they like to remain independent, there was some sort of patronage extended to the school and suddenly the school was providing a boxing program as one of the sports options to their students. AKA, through his brilliant inspiration and team building initiative, with the support of the crown, Klaus was able to bring a new sport to an elite boarding school. It was hardly a “fight.”
Though, Klaus was kept on a shorter leash by both his family and the school for the remainder of his schooling at Le Rosey. But that is neither here nor there and not as sexy of an addendum to the story, so Klaus would like it to be stricken from the record and memory.
Klaus vs. HSHQ-verse Jake Paul
If you were to ask Klaus now, he would be emphatic on the idea that boxing was a way of life, that it chose him, it wasn’t something you could just fall into. But that, like most things he’s said, might’ve been a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, he’s made lifestyle changes and put in great effort to remain in peak condition, for any surprise bookings his agent may get him. However, no amount of core exercises will change how his own journey to celebrity boxing was, after all, mostly through happenstance.
It all started in college. Yes, Klaus actually made it to college. His family made him choose a good school. If it wasn’t in any official rankings, then it wasn’t allowed. And for some reason “#1 Party School in the U.S.” wasn’t official enough of a ranking. So he went with #18, which also happened to be #5 Undergrad Business program, UT Austin. That’s right, Klaus was going to get himself a pair of snakeskin boots and have his college experience in Texas. Yeehaw.
His college experience, thankfully, lived up to the hype. He did it all. He got to check out American fraternities, go to house parties and far more pedestrian and grungy parties than he thought possible for his fellow royals to throw. He managed to pass his classes (though, he’d argue, it was business, how hard was it to think of a marketing campaign for a candy?). He got to fully participate in the “Ain’t No Laws When You’re Drinkin’ Claws” culture. He even managed to befriend the bodyguard that was sent to go with him undercover as another student. He even frequented the iconic street of bars the Dirty Sixth, and has been seen in the background of a few pick up artist videos filmed on the street.
Luckily, his own move to Texas happened to coincide with a massive influencer exodus to the state. So, towards the end of his own college experience, he went from hanging out with the fraternity brothers (who at first didn’t believe him when he said he was a prince) and other college friends, to hooking up with a tiktokker, and making his way into the social circles of many a twitch streamer, tiktokker, podcaster, and other career internet users. At the time, it just seemed like fun. He’d learn renegade, maybe get invited to some more fun celebrity events instead of all the uptight ones he was used to. This was just a fun little cherry on top of his American College Experience. He’d come visit them again in the future, probably. His siblings would question why he knew so many random celebrities, and he’d get to reuse his cowboy hat and daisy dukes once or twice a year.
It wasn’t until after he completed his military service, when he was trying to figure out next steps, that an old friend invited him to come hang out. After a few drinks and maybe an additional substance or two, they began to reminisce over the good old days. How occasionally, after a certain number of drinks, it wasn’t exactly uncommon for Klaus to end up wrestling or fighting another guy. It was usually consensual and just for fun. Usually. Unless someone had said something fucked up to one of the people in their group and no one managed to calm him down before it escalated. Apparently, the reputation had stuck.
After a bit of reminiscence, it came up that their talent agent was putting out feelers for a boxing match against a particular internet personality that was rather hated. For a lot of other influencers, it seemed too toxic to have their name tied to such a hated personality. But for Klaus? He didn’t have an internet brand to be concerned about. And he’d been fighting for like a decade now. He’d do great. So, after telling his friend to give his name to their talent agent, and some personal training to get used to the rules that would be implemented on a regulation fight.
And it felt good to get back in the ring. Even beyond just winning. There was something unmistakably intimate about fighting. And it wasn't just when you were pinned to the ground or straddled by your opponent. It's how close you were, breathing the same air, bodies working in sync, reacting to each other. The sweat dripping down your back, skin on skin contact, if you were lucky. You wouldn't be the first one to point out that there were parallels to sex. But with that came so many weighted assumptions. Fighting was cleaner, lighter. It was easier. And the bruises that came, they usually lasted longer than the hickeys your partner might give you. And when you pressed down on them after, they actually hurt. And the pain brought back the memory all over again.
Even better, perhaps, was the way people would treat you after. The gentle fingers tracing over scars and bruises, with inquisitive eyes. The deft hands bandaging over wounds or stitching you back up. Even when they weren't as gentle, weren't as concerned for your well-being, it was still a spectacle to observe. Your older brothers would actually pause whatever they were doing and give you a once over before shaking their heads. They might even ask you what happened, listening, shaking their heads, and paying attention while you regaled them with the full story. The family doctor would address you with a level of almost expectancy, a kind of familiarity you doubted the other siblings ever reached.
After his first hit, both literally and metaphorically, Klaus was hooked. Finally, he’d found an avenue, where his penchant for fighting was condoned. Where he wouldn’t need to be picked up by a disappointed family member afterwards, but instead a limousine. It wasn’t long before his name was showing up more regularly on pay-per-view television. His fights were events. And for him, they were access not only to influence and a name of his own, but to intimacy and love. How could he ever give that up?
Klaus vs. Uncle Dorian
This fight was unfair and was truly filled with sucker punches and low blows on the part of Uncle Dorian. You see, Klaus only really finished up his conscription earlier this year, and having been so busy trying to really make a name for himself in boxing, he hadn’t really gotten fully oriented at home for a while. Max had only been gone for, what? Like a month?
He’d assumed everything was going fine. He worked with the kitchen staff to make sure he was hitting his macros for training, he kept most of the training to either outside or in the gym. He also kept his music to what he believed to be a reasonable volume. In fact, if you asked Klaus, he would say he was trying his very best to behave! Now, he couldn’t help it if his siblings would rile him up and get him to say very outrageous, but very funny, things. And who was he to say no to a very beautiful duchess who just so happened to already be married when they hooked up?
Klaus assumed everything was going so fine, that when his uncle encouraged him to take a vacation to Spain, he thought it was looking out for his wellbeing. Klaus’ assistant even told him he’d managed to book a show on Ibiza for late August. It was no understatement to say that Klaus took this as a chance for his big break. DJ Sloppy Sixths hadn’t gotten any major stages. He’d played at clubs and discotheques, usually in very early or very late slots. And he wasn’t usually allowed to use any of the fog or lasers or pyrotechnics, but he appreciated the stage time. Ibiza, though? Klaus didn’t know he was so close to becoming a multi-hyphenate. Prince-Boxer-DJ had a nice ring to it.
It wasn’t until his bags were unloaded at The Program’s resort, and after seeing the fourth royal in such a short time frame that Klaus began to realize that perhaps he had been lied to. After interrogating the assistant who lied to him, he learned that there had never been a show in Ibiza, and there was no party yacht that he would be taking his friends around the islands of Spain on. It had all been a ruse. He had been bamboozled into leaving Bern to come to what? A diplomats’ convention? What was he going to do? Broker peace in the octagon?
He fired the lying assistant and is interviewing new assistants while his talent manager, trainer, and hype man help him fill the gaps.
Klaus, never one to be deterred, still has his heart set on Ibiza. Even if not headlining on some stage, even if not on a party yacht with models, and even if he must sneak out to go there, the Swiss prince is determined. He will get his vacation, he will take a pill in Ibiza.
HEADCANONS
He would do MMA if he didn’t think his mom would lose it
Moonlights as a DJ, goes by “DJ Sloppy Sixths”. He wears a mask so his identity is “hidden” but it’s not that well kept of a secret. Klaus will invited anyone out to his shows. The mask is more of a deadmau5/marshmello vibe over like daft punk. His music is thoroughly mediocre.
Max knows about Klaus’ DJing. It was revealed to him as part of the distraction while Sylvie helped Catherine sneak Freddie out.
Frequently jokes that he’s not just a twin, he’s a triplet, but he ate his triplet in the womb. That’s why he’s so powerful. In reality, there was no triplet. It’s just funny to see people’s reactions. His siblings play along for the most part.
Speaking of more frequent jokes, at holiday events, he often will give speeches. bb boy loves attention. They usually start off sounding Kind Of Normal, but somewhere around halfway through, it becomes obvious he’s doing another action movie monologue. Most of the siblings think it’s funny.
Klaus is competitive and will be competing for Freddie’s favorite uncle. He’s already bought his own babybjörn
To prove he was responsible enough to use the babybjörn, he carried around his french bulldog in the babybjörn for a while. The frenchie seemed to enjoy it. Don’t be surprised if you see him running around with a frenchie strapped to his chest.
The crown has his phone’s IP address banned from tiktok and many other social media sites. They don’t trust him (and probably appropriately so). He does occasionally use VPN’s to get around it, but it’s only for his DJ account, where he’s always wearing a mask. So he thinks that doesn’t really count.
credit: the template for the graphic up there is here
&&. announcing his majesty, ( maximilian alexander dorian von grünenberg ), the ( 35 ) year old ( king ) of ( switzerland ). he is often confused with ( bill skarsgârd ). some say that he is (harsh and arrogant ), but he is actually ( meticulous and devoted ).
[ ooc note: ok his bio is really long i apologize but heres a tl/dr - max has finally arrived! he’s kind of an asshole! every shitty thing that has happened in and around switzerland in the past decade is his regent uncle’s fault and this is a hill he will die on! fuller bio below the cut but we want all the connections ever so plz give this a like or comment and will will come bother you xoxo]
tw: mentions of death
King of Spades
The call came the night before his tenth birthday. A skiing accident and a broken neck, there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it, for their beloved king was so adventurous and bold. It was so very like his father to die in the most stereotypical swiss way imaginable, Max might have found it ironic were he not suddenly thrust into a crown that did not fit yet and a spotlight that was far too bright.
Frederick had done everything right - married for love but married well, had six beautiful children and an heir he was raising to be strong and kind, safeguarded the power and wealth his family had built up over generations, and wielded Swiss neutrality and economic power as the weapon and influence it could always be. And then he was gone, his brother Dorian named Regent until the golden boy came of age. Dorian was not all those wonderful things they said about his brother, he was ambitious and ruthless, cold and cruel. Under the protection of his dead brother’s name, he raised the golden boy into something lethal.
Max, old enough to remember his father’s lessons on balancing compassion and strength but far too young to do anything but listen, became the creature his uncle wanted. The boy was clever and observant, taking in not only the offered lessons on strategy and statecraft, but unintentional ones, the mistakes and calculations - dismissive arrogance and greed. By the time he was 18, the Golden Boy was nothing more than a facade, a mask to hide a being of spite and cunning.
King of Clubs
Max played the part exceptionally well, covering his anger and introversion with enough charm and wit, all while maintaining the elusive air one expects of royalty. Only his siblings and childhood best friend saw a softer side of the prince, a playful ease that hinted at the man he might have been, who he should have been. Kindness was weakness, those you loved could be used against you - and so he only allowed himself to really care for those chosen few. Samuel, his chosen brother, partner in crime (perhaps actually?), confidant and advisor. They’d grown up together and his uncle deemed the other boy a good enough companion for a future king so they remained close until Samuel went to school. It was nice, Max thought, to have someone outside of his family who didn’t constantly expect him to have his shit together all the time. Particularly with the weight and admiration of five younger siblings, the expectations of a nation.
Dorian’s ambition made him bolder, and Max’s resentment grew out of his own powerlessness. He went to the very best university in Switzerland, of course, his own stubbornness and obsessive nature keeping him near the top of his class. After sitting in on a meeting on international trade where his uncle brushed aside his questions and concerns, saying ‘leave the details to the experts,’ Max decided to become one. He genuinely hated most parts of his PhD in economics, despite how much he liked being at Oxford, but he was far too stubborn and spiteful to give it up.
And then, simply because he could, Max earned a law degree as well. “So I can be absolutely certain no one will fuck me over in the fine print,” was the only reasoning offered when asked by his sister who’d never known the man their father was. It was to protect them, protect his country as he did all he could to save them from the ambitions and greed of his uncle. But really Max loved the nuances and details of the law, the way one or two words could completely change the meaning over time. Other men, other rulers might win influence through force, but the Swiss had always done so with money and words. Now Max was an expert in both.
King of Hearts
Thirty five haunted him, both a death sentence and endless opportunity. So Max did whatever he could to release some of the ever mounting pressure. Naturally reserved and guarded, the prince rarely if ever let anyone get too close, though many tried. He’s left behind a string of lovers and flings, some he even managed to date publicly for a little while. No one made it through the armor, many would describe him as cold and harsh almost to the point of cruelty. The people forgave him these little flings, of course, their beloved golden boy was young and deserved to have his fun, particularly with all the tragedy and pressure.
Until he was no longer as young, and talk shifted into who came next. Hadn’t the late king proven to them all that life was short and unpredictable? Enter Catherine.
Clever, beautiful Catherine who’s ambitions and ruthlessness rivaled his own, all wrapped up in the prefect package. It was supposed to be just one thing, another fling and another name to add to his growing list. When she sought him out again, this time with the offer of marriage, the prince laughed - “That good, was it?” And then she laid out her plan before him with a cool efficiency so unlike the persona she put on for the world, Max had to have her. One crown was great, but two were better. And so, after extensive negotiations and likely the most complex and detailed pre-nup agreement in recent memory, Max slipped his mother’s ring on her finger and it was done.
They sold the world a story of true love, two decisive people who knew what they wanted and found it in each other. The wedding was a blur of extravagant pageantry befitting two great and powerful houses and Max hated every second of it. Until it was just the two of them left in that massive, unfamiliar estate. Half delirious from exhaustion, or maybe it was the scotch, he laughed at how heavy her accent grew when she was tired. Catherine the Great, he’d called her when she’d first laid out her plan with that empire building look in her eyes, and meant it as a taunt. Catherine the Great, he called her again, and then took her to bed.
Frederick was born and his world shifted. Max had always excelled at the political game, as cunning and ruthless as he’d been crafted. It had always been his own ambition and resentment that drove him, his nation that he put first. Then Catherine gave him a son, this tiny perfect human with his eyes and her mouth, and Max knew he would do absolutely anything for this child. It was terrifying.
King of Diamonds
Thirty five mere months away, and these days he’s haunted by long dead kings.
The thing about all those dead kings, he learned, was that history forgot their flaws and foibles. We even forget they were human, fallible at all to begin with. No, when a monarch dies they become defined by either the very best thing they achieved in their reign, or the very worst. No nuance, nothing that would suggest a whole person, one with dreams and wants and interests outside of the crown. Not when all anyone ever reads is the first two sentences of a wikipedia article. And then, with enough time, the worst thing one might have done could be seen in a better light, just as the best thing a king achieved will become meaningless, trite or even performative.
Academically speaking, and on this point Max was quite the expert, the very best a King or Queen or Monarch could hope for was to die young and beloved. Tragedies are always forgiven, and these late rulers are not measured by the little that they did, but rather the unfulfilled potential cut tragically short. Of course, these expectations are naturally then thrust upon their heirs, doubling that which was already placed upon them at too young an age. (Max was just self aware enough to recognize that he was projecting a bit with this, but far too stubborn/arrogant to change. )
Heavy is the head that bears the crown, the saying goes, but there is an unspoken addendum one does not learn until it’s too late. Heavier still are the shoulders of the fatherless heir.
