Bridgerton | Official RP Thread


Louisa couldn’t help but laugh. ”Yes, that is true. You are one of the only people I can stand aside from Frances. Yet, she sometimes nags me about marriage. That is the one time I cannot stand to be around her.” Another laugh escaped her lips when Belle mentioned the body odor of males. She stuck her tongue out, gagging. “Alright, you do have a point. Perhaps I should try something else. Possibly a foul perfume when I’m forced to be around men? What are your thoughts on the matter? Please tell if you have any other ideas. Belle went quiet for a second, and Louisa allowed her mind to wander. She was tired. What time even was it? Feeling Belle’s eyes on her, she blinked. ”Please do not apologize. To be honest, I zoned out a little too. It might be a mixture of alcohol and my nerves. It is too loud in here, do you agree?” Louisa nodded. “I would be vexed too if called by my middle name by s man I hardly know. You know how I can get. I cannot understand men either, do not fret. It is like we are two different species, despite both being human.”
@Kristi - Belle

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AbigailBrantley

[color= #F19CBB]“What I mentioned was different. A child resuming their parents careers is different from a child being blame for the mistakes of their parents or their grandparents.”[/color] Abigail said. He continued talking about the war. “In some places it is not a mere suggestion, but in fact an expectation that a child follows their parents wherever they may lead. Boys follow their father into war, …And girls, girls and wives sit and wait at home, wait for brothers and fathers and husbands, who may never return.” Abigail thought for a moment which stopped her from replying hastily, but also allowed Bruce to add something before she could respond, and his added remark made her smile. “I must ask your utmost forgiveness, My Lady, that was not very gentleman-like of me.” That smile persisted as she answered him. “You do not need to worry about that. I believe that you sharing your thoughts with me and allowing me to do the same is more gentleman-like than most men I know. I agree with everything you said about expectations, except one thing which I will shortly mention. I have hope that as everything bad in this country, this too will change for the better, but until then I must correct you. This practice of expecting children to follow in the footsteps of their parents only applies to first born sons and children of poor people who must work for a living. The young children have no choice but to do what their parents have been doing since growing up in that enviorment they had no opportunities to learn a different trade. Then the first born sons of men of no profession are expected to manage the household and marry well for the benefit of the family. The second sons who might not inherited anything due to the silly laws surrounding inheritance and land ownership, they have choices or war, law or church. And seeing as you need to pay to become a soldier and you need a recomendation as well, it’s not likely than any people who earn for a living would ever join the army, considering the comission to become a soldier is greater than the pay, or the honorarium you’d get in return. So I would say if a soldier has sons, they would be expected to pick one of the three professions, giving them enough choices should they not wish to go to war. I only wish women had more and better choices consideirng our futures.” She continued.
Abigail was first happy to recieve a compliment from Mr. Armstrong about her noticing his scar, which was a lucky catch. She knows her eyes and attention to detail are not as good as Bruce sugessted, this being just a lucky guess, but she took the compliment nevertheless. Her smile faded as he lifted his shirt up and she said. “You were pierced through?!” Yes, she didn’t shout but whisper it, but her tone of voice still showed a lot of concern for him. She felt a sudden chill, but didn’t know if it was from the cold wind or the thought of what must’ve happened to him, or both, but she wasn’t about to risk getting a cold, so she said. "Mr. Armstrong, I felt a chill. Maybe you should lower your garments before you get a cold or a fever and we should head inside to further avoid the risk.
@Bluecookies - Bruce
@Ouijaloveletters - where should I place Edgar for the next post?

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“Surely you must think the same of all the other women of the ton, I hardly think I stand out amongst them.”

“Well, out of all the women of the ton, I have chosen to speak with you first, have I not?” He reminded her. Perhaps it was because she could not see her own beauty but she seemed to think she was unworthy of his attention, which was far from the truth. “I could have apologized for our collision and continued on, yet here I am. Surely that must account for something.”

The girl blushed when Finch asked her to dance, which made him smile. There was something sweet about her reaction. After she accepted, he gently took her hand and lead her out onto the dance floor. “Have you danced before, Miss Beckham?” He asked her, striking up a conversation.


@Bluecookies - Bridget

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Insane - Post Malone
“Yeah, we both got a house, but it’s different. Yeah, we both got teeth, but it’s different”


“Our entire childhood was but a playful game to you,” Aurelia remarked to Ilyas, her words tinged with a sense of nostalgia and accusation. Ilyas met her gaze with a wistful yet earnest expression. “Indeed, my dear, for we were but children then,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of sincerity. “But as time has passed, it is evident that neither of us remains in the realm of childhood.” In the refined and intricate world of society, where the past and present often intermingled, their journey had taken a new and intriguing turn.

Ilyas couldn’t resist injecting a touch of humor into the conversation. “Though it appears that one of us stopped growing at child’s height,” he quipped, a playful glint in his eye. His words were meant to lighten the mood. Finding the line where tension and banter often coexisted.

“The genuine question is: have you ever once acted as if something were not a game?” Aurelia’s question hung in the air, and Ilyas couldn’t help but let out an exasperated groan. It was becoming increasingly clear that she had no recollection and this run-around was testing his patience.

An inner quarrel raged within Ilyas as he contemplated the idea of giving up and staying, of abandoning this confusing and tumultuous encounter with Aurelia. He weighed the pros and cons, knowing that staying would only prolong this enigmatic dance they were engaged in, yet a part of him yearned to unravel it all.

Ilyas couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of unease as he grappled with his own emotions and the unusual situation at hand. He had never been one to spend much time dwelling on his own feelings or attempting to be the “good guy.” Yet, here he was, making an effort to navigate a complex and frustrating situation, only to find his efforts seemingly foiled. He felt like his attempts at understanding and connection were unraveling before his eyes, leaving him with a sense of unease and turmoil.

Ilyas reflected on the rarity of his efforts to please anyone, particularly his father. In his world, where familial expectations held considerable sway, he put forth significant effort to earn his father’s approval. Moments where they turned out to work were few and far between. Had his father ever even smiled to him?

As Ilyas grappled with the complexities of his encounter with Aurelia and Albina, a part of him couldn’t help but yearn for the simplicity of his friendships. His friends were much easier to communicate with, and their camaraderie was built on shared experiences and a mutual understanding. They could enjoy a drink together, poke fun at the other men who were attempting to navigate wooing a woman, with varying degrees of success, and escape the more intricate and vexing aspects of social interaction.

Ilyas found himself on the receiving end of a sudden confrontation, the intrusion breaking the fragile equilibrium of his thoughts. "What the hell do you think you’re doing, Keats?!” the man demanded, his voice laced with hostility. Ilyas sighed inwardly and muttered a few choice words under his breath, unheard by those around him. With a dark smile, he gently pushed the man’s hand away from his chest, his own hand deftly wrapping around the intruder’s wrist and diverting the aggression. Ilyas had his own ways of handling confrontation. Ilyas was not one to engage in physical altercations. In his world, where words often held more power than fists, he had rarely found himself in a fight. Instead, he preferred to use his wit and sharp tongue to outmaneuver his opponents, making them feel foolish or inadequate.

Ilyas, maintaining his composure in the face of the confrontation, addressed the man who had accosted him. “Please do not touch me again, I am not sure where those hands have been, first of all. By the looks of it and the smell of it, they have been holding one too many glasses of champagne.” he retorted calmly, his tone laden with subtle sarcasm.

The man, who Ilyas had identified as Orpheus, had clearly indulged in the festivities a bit too much. The situation was growing increasingly uncomfortable, and Aurelia’s intervention couldn’t have come at a better time but her words were not what he wanted to hear.

“Lord Keats, I believe it might be time for you to take your leave, we shall continue our conversation at a more… suitable time.” Aurelia chimed in, her voice firm and composed. He moved away from Orpheus, leaning on the railing as he cast a glance at Adelien. The presence of another individual, the diamond, added to the intrigue of the situation, leaving Ilyas to wonder just how he found himself in this particular situation.

lyas nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of the conversation and the unresolved matters between them. He could sense that there were deeper layers to their interactions and that their paths would inevitably cross again. Ilyas turned his attention back to Orpheus, his gaze steady and unwavering… “If you have a problem with me talking to Aurelia, then perhaps you should reflect on your own issues and address them accordingly.” A soft, almost amused chuckle escaped Ilyas as he observed Orpheus’s reactions. The question lingered in his mind: Why was Orpheus behaving this way? Was there an underlying jealousy at play, and if so, who was the true object of his envy? His eyes looking at the small group others around him out on the balcony.

Ilyas couldn’t help but be drawn into the enigmatic dance of words and emotions that seemed to surround him. “I mean, I’ve heard whispers from a little bird that perhaps someone’s feelings and courtship efforts may have been… disappointingly one-sided.” His words were carefully chosen, adding to the veiled hint of intrigue.

@Jass mentioned bean
@DandelionKate orphan
@benitz786 shrimpy
@sunflowerjm diamond

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As the music came to a graceful end, Lydia began to make her way off the dance floor, and Augustus followed suit, his heart light with excitement and newfound confidence. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for what the evening held, and the lighthearted banter they’d shared had left a pleasant warmth in his heart.

The slight squeak of his shoes seemed to carry the melody of the night with it as he approached Another dance partner. His smile was bright and his eyes were alight with a playful glint. It was a moment of possibility and charm, embodying the spirit of the the night, ready to continue the festivities and perhaps share more delightful conversations in the grand ballroom.

Augustus couldn’t help but be struck by the beauty and elegance of his new dance partner, though any of the women here would have that affect on him it seems. Her dark amber hair framed her face like a shimmering halo, and the rich shade of blue she wore complemented her complexion exquisitely. Augustus, feeling a mixture of excitement and a hint of shyness, extended his hand towards Dorothea, the charming lady with the dark amber hair and the lovely blue gown. His cheeks took on a subtle blush as he spoke, his tone filled with a touch of awkward but endearing sincerity.

“Um, my lady Dorothea, would you, um, perhaps, care to share a dance with me? I, uh, promise I won’t step on your toes.” He chuckled softly, hoping to convey a sense of lightheartedness as he awaited her response. In this moment of charming vulnerability, this was a promise, he knew he could keep! With a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin, he leaned in slightly and whispered, “My lady, they say actions speak louder than words, and I must admit that tonight, my dance steps will be doing all the talking.”
@CerealKiller

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Dance 2: with Lady Lydia (@novella).

Magnus listened attentively to Lydia’s words, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke. Her mention of the Queens’ presentation and her sister’s return reminded him of the reason he was looking to converse with her tonight. Although it could wait. Not too long, but he must give it little longer into their conversation before talking on such things. Timing was everything after all. “You have a point, Lady Lydia,” Magnus replied with a small smile. “Time does have a way of playing tricks on us, especially when significant events unfold around us.”

Lydia questioned his reference to being ‘a cloaked obstacle’ and Magnus chuckled softly. “Ah, yes, my wording was a little cryptic. I merely meant that I had seemingly found myself in the way of ladies with clumsy feet. Neither of whom had the same grace that you’re beautifully feigning to have tonight,” he explained, giving her a small cheeky smile to signal his jest in the last part of his comment. “You are doing a splendid job. Do not let any opinions Her Royal Highness may or may not have of you to get you down. After all, you are an Ellis, the name alone carries great significance here, and you have not caused controversy at this ball that I am aware of. You are doing fine.”

He leaned in slightly again, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I am confident that the night holds potential for unexpected adventures, perhaps even without rebelling.” Magnus paused a moment, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Now, Lady Lydia, I must tread carefully. It would not do for a Prince to be seen inciting mischief. However, if you are open to a discreet escapade, perhaps we can find a way to bend the rules just enough to add a touch of excitement to the evening.” He reached out to take her dance card between his fingers and peruse it. “I see you have an opening. It would please your parents if were to take your next dance. The question is, would it please you. May I have this next dance with you, Lady Lydia?”


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No dance- chat with Louisa


Louisa had asked if Belle had any ideas, and Belle had a lot of them- could it even be a question to ask to Belle- ‘do you have ideas?’ because there never seems to be a time when she does not have any ideas. Concerning this matter, Belle had constantly mused about it from a tender age. At the youthful age of 10 and 3, her mother had begun to weave tales of potential suitors, telling Belle how much of a beautiful bride she would make when she would brush her hair randomly even though they were maids for that and Belle could do it herself. Belle, obviously has always distaste the idea of marriage, especially when you look at the pool of men to marry- everyone worst than the other, and the one’s that were ‘good’ were either related to her (Thomas does not count, belle shudders for the lady that is to marry the second born male of the Fleur family in the future) or so close to her that she could not see them as anything more than a kin.

Moreover, as a woman she thinks, marriage is filled with restrictions- a system that truly and honestly only benefits men and she could not understand why any lady will desire marriage but to each their own. To continue, when Belle was young she had already find ways to deter potential suitors- being a woman with opinions was already scary enough to them, being a lady who was not gentle, being as uncanny as possible with talks about poisonous flower that intrigued her and the books she read about the best poison to use, said in such a way that it was a threat- and it usually worked though it also did not as being the daughter of a high ranking noble made such things hard. As humans, it was natural to be attracted to power, the least powerful you are the more you suffer, so she could understand that and detest it at the same time. Though, any suitors in the future were fighting an impossible fight when it came to her, and they will come to see it in various ways. Belle thought to herself with a small smirk. “I have so many ideas dear Louisa, we could wear an ogre mask to scare them off, or we could powder our faces so much that is uncanny. And be as opinionated as ever,” Belle said a small smile on her face as she ventured into her thoughts once more.

When she had pulled herself back into the conversation, louisa had said there was no need for apologies and Belle had smiled. One of the many reasons Belle loved Louisa, Louisa simply understood her and Belle often thought of herself as impossible to be understood and perhaps there was truth to that. A lot of truth but out of the less than a few people who could understand her and her mind- Louisa was part of them and she was forever grateful for Louisa. “it is too loud, I had heard that England would be loud, I had not thought it would be this loud though. And the way they talk,” Belle said pursing my lips, “Perhaps I am being nitpicking but I do not enjoy the english men way of speaking or perhaps I am simply too used to the tongue of the french and the russian.” Belle said agreeing with Louisa calling the place loud and it was loud and it vexxed her. The alcohol as she drink, made it even louder she thinks but at the same time it relaxed her.

Belle chuckled at Louisa calling men a different species thought hey were of the same flesh, “I do agree, though we are both considered ‘humans’ I believe that men most be a different species, because they are hard to understand, and they hold their self in such high esteem even if everything about them is low. They believe that they are more interesting than everyone else, that we should be honored to be in their presence and that their thoughts, feelings and mind should be considered more than the ones of women simply because they were born with a condition that makes a lot of them bald at 20 and 5, and born with sticks. And I do believe that having pride in oneself is important as to not be so easily bent, but a lot of them are filled with vanity not pride.”


@Ouijaloveletters

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Louisa couldn’t help but laugh. ”I must say, the powder idea is much more ideal than what I had come up with. Essentially…I eat foods that does not agree with my stomach, therefore I get terrible flatulence. Unfortunately, that would affect me too, causing intestinal discomfort. I would rather not have to deal with that.” Louisa shook her head, smiling. ”Oh, Belle. You already know how opinionated the both of us are. I truly do not believe we could possibly get even worse. If so, I may just drive my own self crazy. My, wouldn’t that be a day? It would be rather odd if one had the ability to cause themself to loose their mind. I do Wonder if that could happen…” Louisa subsequently zoned out, as she normally did when thinking. Luckily, Belle was aware of this, as it had happened before. Conveniently, Louisa happened to zone back in right as Belle had begun speaking again. That was always nice. Normally she would just smile and nod, allowing herself to zone out as much as she wished. Yet, Belle was actually one she considered a friend, and she did not wish to ignore her. ”I do not believe you are nitpicking at all, do not worry. I must say that I am very partial to the Russian and German accents. I enjoy how…hmmm…throaty they are. Louisa vigorously nodded. ”That is very true, Belle. Men are certainly…” She paused, bending at the waist to dramatically gag. “I shall sooner wed a woman than be wed to one of those men. If I shall be betrothed to a man, he must be intelligent and respectful of my wishes. I am not, nor have I ever been, some sort of porcelain doll to be displayed. I am a living, breathing human with my own dreams and ideals. No one can take that away from me. If anyone such as tries, I shall be gone, as if I was never there. That is my will.” Louisa finally took a break. She may have gone a tad overboard, but was she bothered? No, certainly not. Taking a drink, she briefly closed her eyes. It was too bright in the room. She wasn’t sure what was causing it, yet she had a headache.
@Kristi - Belle

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“Well, out of all the women of the ton, I have chosen to speak with you first, have I not?” Bridget’s cheeks seemed to remain a steady pink from her continued blushing. She gently tucked her hair behind her ear, “I would not know, My Lord. Just that I would not believe myself to be any noble, good family man’s first choice, given my condition. Quite understandable, of course, a man wishes to have a wife who can bear him many healthy children and raise them properly to continue his great legacy.” Bridget shook her head sheepishly, “Pardonnez-moi, Lord Riddlington, most improper of me to speak of such things at the first ball of all places.” “I could have apologized for our collision and continued on, yet here I am. Surely that must account for something.” She smiled softly, “It accounts for more than merely something, My Lord. Your action displays your character, your heart, and the quality of your upbringing as a gentleman in society.” After she accepted, he gently took her hand and lead her out onto the dance floor. There was a slight hesitation of nervousness letting a stranger guide her way that passed through as he took her hand with a kind of gentleness, but the notion quietly dispersed as she allowed him to lead her. “Have you danced before, Miss Beckham?” He asked her, striking up a conversation. Bridget thought for a moment, “An excellent question, My Lord, do you speak of being my first dance of the night or being my very first dance?”

@Caticorn ~ Finch

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══✿══╡ dance 2 with magnus ╞══✿══

The mystery behind Magnus’ choice of wording was soon revealed as he explained the frequent times he had been bumped into this evening. “I see, but you must give us ladies some credit, Magnus. To wear such lengthy gowns and, for some of us, heeled shoes brings a compromise in mobility,” Lydia told him, gesturing to her own attire that matched such description. Lydia found trying to be perceived as elegant and composed was a near impossible task with the heeled boots her mother had made her wear in attempt to compensate for her shorter stature. This will certainly be the last time she would wear these. “I suppose it is only a matter of time before I find myself in a similar predicament.”

Lydia gave a small laugh as Magnus playfully insinuated that she had been carrying herself in a graceful manner tonight. “Indeed, Your Grace. You know me well, always committed to maintaining the highest level of elegance,” She responded, in a more sophisticated tone of voice to pretend that such words were true for a moment. He then continued, discussing the significance of her name. “I’m not sure interpret such significance as a positive thing,” Lydia revealed, though it was nothing she hadn’t conversed with him about before. “You must be familiar of such feeling? To belong to such a recognised name with the expectation that you act accordingly,” She continued, looking over in hopes of him relating. “Speaking of, the Diamond is supposed to catch all eyes, was that the case for the Prince himself?” She asked, “Could this be the year of the Prince’s matrimony?”

As the space between the pair closed in order to confer more confidentially, Lydia wondered how Magnus could be so certain in the idea that the night did not need their rebelling to become interesting. “I do hope that such a prediction proves accurate,” She told him with a similar lowered voice. “For I am not sure how much longer I can sanely engage in idle chatter with those only pursuing their hopes on matrimony,” Lydia continued, gradually making her voice quieter as she was referring to people who were potentially in earshot. “So if I happen to come up with something that will hasten the process to such adventures you speak of, I will be sure to make you informed.” With that, Lydia stepped back, as they returned to their original positions, as if no such secret exchange had happened.

At the mention of Lydia’s parents, she looked around to find them conversing with a man she could only assume they were planning to send in her direction. Therefore, when Magnus proposed they dance together, she smiled at such perfectly-timed escape. “I must say it bring me greater pleasure than any other option,” She told him, honestly, before taking his lead onto the floor.

“I am perplexed as to how you have been able to do this for six years,” Lydia told him as they began dancing, acknowledging that it is not his first debut. “You must tell me how you have not been driven mad amidst all of this?”

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

@CrazyCaliope Magnus Edevane

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~ Dance 1: with Abigail ~


“What I mentioned was different. A child resuming their parents careers is different from a child being blame for the mistakes of their parents or their grandparents.” Bruce nodded, “I know a fair bit about that as well, Miss Brantley. My father has made mistakes throughout his career making some very powerful enemies some of whom I share by mere association. Thus my father presses me harder to ensure I don’t make the same mistakes.” "You do not need to worry about that. I believe that you sharing your thoughts with me and allowing me to do the same is more gentleman-like than most men I know. I agree with everything you said about expectations, except one thing which I will shortly mention. I have hope that as everything bad in this country, this too will change for the better, but until then I must correct you. This practice of expecting children to follow in the footsteps of their parents only applies to first born sons and children of poor people who must work for a living. The young children have no choice but to do what their parents have been doing since growing up in that enviorment they had no opportunities to learn a different trade. Then the first born sons of men of no profession are expected to manage the household and marry well for the benefit of the family. The second sons who might not inherited anything due to the silly laws surrounding inheritance and land ownership, they have choices or war, law or church. And seeing as you need to pay to become a soldier and you need a recommendation as well, it’s not likely than any people who earn for a living would ever join the army, considering the commission to become a soldier is greater than the pay, or the honorarium you’d get in return. So I would say if a soldier has sons, they would be expected to pick one of the three professions, giving them enough choices should they not wish to go to war. I only wish women had more and better choices considering our futures.” Bruce listened to her spirited debate with thoughtful consideration and enjoyment, musing upon her words carefully before crafting a response, “I have been called a lot of things in my life, Miss Brantley. Perhaps too many for one so young some say. The world’s finest detective, castaway, scientist, fighter, genius, philanthropist, hero, criminal, adventurer, protector, survivor, a hard man to kill, and so much more, but what I am first and foremost is the firstborn son of a poor man. My father like his father before was just a man, a poor, working-class man but one with a talent. A talent, intellect, and a strong desire to help his fellow man. So, he honed this talent whenever he could, whether it was on the way to work at the coal mines or in his free time. One day, he decided to put down his pickaxe and put his mind to good use instead. He joined the ranks of the Scotland Yard, from there he was able to further develop his skills as a policeman until he worked his way up to the rank of inspector, then eventually became a detective. After a year or two he decided to make a name for himself and began to take cases of his own. As his reputation grew, he made more and more wealth of course he did not particularly care for money as much as he did the people he was helping, so he saved all of it except that which he used to provide for himself and donate to charity. Then while working a case he came across a particularly bright woman, one whom as he put it, was able to humble and baffle even him with her beauty, charm, and intelligence that rivaled that of his own. So, now that he gained a wife with child, he used the ever-increasing wealth he amassed over time, and the labor of his own hands, he built my family’s estate. Everything I’ve had has been because of him, the food on the table, the clothes on my back, my training, all of it has been from him. As for choice…” Bruce chuckled softly, another much more subtle hint of familiarity graced his words once more, “Some people are rarely given a choice.” Abigail’s smile faded as he lifted his shirt up and she said. “You were pierced through?!” Yes, she didn’t shout but whisper it, but her tone of voice still showed a lot of concern for him. Bruce nodded, his expression grim as he recalled the chilling coldness of steel, the sharpness of pain, and a scream so loud and yet so silent with no one else around to hear, this was his villain to face, and his fight alone. Bruce shook his head as the daymare ended, “I was…” His words while simplicity in diction, his tone suggested more to the story, more to the pain of his past. “Mr. Armstrong, I felt a chill. Maybe you should lower your garments before you get a cold or a fever and we should head inside to further avoid the risk.” After double checking his vest and tie, Bruce smiled softly, “I do not get cold much, anymore, Miss Brantley. But for your sake, perhaps you are right. After you then?”

@LunaticLeviTheSecond ~ Abigail

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Dance || • with Augustus


After her so called verbal spar with Prince Magnus, Dorothea found herself somewhat flustered, prompting her to gracefully make her way to the refreshments table, her steps deliberate and poised, in search of something to soothe her unsettled nerves.

Dorothea looked at the man who approached her, seeing it was Augustus, who was usually kind enough not to cause many nerves or problems. She couldn’t help but be amused by the nervous charm of his request. She observed the slight quiver in his voice and the twinkle in his eye, and it brought a playful smile to her lips.

“Well, my lord,” she replied with a teasing glint in her eye, "I must say your promise not to step on my toes is quite a tempting offer, I must say,” she chuckled lightly, looking at Augustus. “Especially considering my toes have already been stepped on” she jokingly recalled the incident that got her to talk to Prince magnus

As the music began to play, she extended her hand toward him, her playful grin growing. “Lead the way, then, and let your dance steps do the talking.” With that, she prepared to follow him onto the dance floor, ready for a lively and enjoyable dance with this charming and slightly nervous partner.


@Madilfill Auggie
@CrazyCaliope Magnus mentioned

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In between dance number two and dance number three, with Cassian Ellis


As soon as she realised someone was near her, Albina tried and force herself to stop crying. She did not want anyone to see her like this. So emotional and vulnerable. She wiped away her tear, and looked who was had approached her. Cassian Ellis. Great, out of everyone, Albina wanted to deal with him the least at this moment. “Cassian” she said with some shock in her face, but also some softness from nostalgia in her voice. She had known he would most likely be here this season, but seeing him again after all this time since she had last seen him, it did more to her than she thought it would. There was this mix of hating him, with a tenderness at the same time. However, as she spoke to him frustration took over. She looked around her, careful that no one was around listening in before speaking.“You would not care, would you?” she snapped at him. “You vanished from my existence without a trace, and now, you have the audacity to inquire as to the cause of my tears? Did you, Lord Cassian, ever hold the slightest regard within your heart?” she looked him directly in the eyes as she asked that question.


@CerealKiller - Cassian

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in between dance II and III - with albina


As Cassian approached Lady Albina, he immediately sensed her distress. She had been crying, and her attempt to conceal her emotions didn’t go unnoticed. He knew Albina well enough to recognize that she didn’t want anyone to witness her in such a vulnerable state.

When she said his name, Cassian couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. It had been some time since they had crossed paths, and he had known that they might encounter each other during this season. However, her reaction caught him off guard. Her shock upon seeing him was evident, and the mixture of emotions playing on her face intrigued him. He had expected some surprise, perhaps a bit of discomfort, but the intensity of her reaction was unexpected.

“Albina,” he replied, a hint of surprise in his voice. He had expected a range of emotions, but her mixture of anger and tenderness left him momentarily speechless.

Her frustration and accusations stung. Her words were like a sharp knife.
“You have every right to be angry with me,” he admitted, meeting her gaze with a sense of regret in his eyes. “I vanished without a trace, and for that, I’m truly sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Albina.”

I “I did care,” he continued earnestly. “More than you can imagine. But there were circumstances, things I couldn’t control, that led me down a different path.” he added “If only life had been as simple as i wished it to be…” he finished, a subtle sigh escaping his lips.

Cassian met her gaze, the weight of her words sinking in. He knew he had caused her pain, and he had no defense. Memories of their past flooded back, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret for the way things had unfolded between them.


@Jass Albi

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AbigailBrantley

Dance 1 → Dance 3: with Edgar

“but what I am first and foremost is the firstborn son of a poor man. My father like his father before was just a man, a poor, working-class man but one with a talent.” She smiled at that and dipped into his speech to mention. “Well in that retrospect we are most simmilar. Althought I am much further along the family tree, I still believe myself to be connected to the poor side of my family. I don’t know if you remeber quit so much, but my great grandfather was raised in a poor household. As much as you don’t feel like a gentleman, I don’t feel like a lady, although I was raised to believe I am one.” She blushed from embarrasement as she realized she wouldn’t want her speech to be interrupted in a way she interrupted his, so for the remainder of it she stayed silent.


Her whispered shout was a rhetorical question, and yet after some silence he still answered. She knew he understood that he didn’t need to answer, but his confirmatory words were so silent and simple, she didn’t want to leave it at that. But the chill, which she previously thought was from wind, was actually from the idea of what must’ve happened to him and how horrible it must’ve been. She isn’t the type to faint from the sight of blood, nor the type to be squeamish easily, but she felt she wasn’t ready to hear a harrowing tale of how it happened to him. Thankfully, he said something about the cold to distract them form the silence.
“Mr. Armstrong, you might not feel cold, but you still might catch a cold despite you feeling warm enough. In fact, that is how people who over indulge with drink easily get hypothermia, becuase the drink makes them feel warmer than they actually are and tricks them into believing their body is not freezing and they in fact get ill with a cold or in a worst case scenario, hypothermia.”
She finished her lesson and said “Thank you.” while entering the room again. She felt refreshed enough to join the party. She smiled at Bruce, but behind him she noticed somebody she wanted to talk to earlier. It was Viscount Füller, and she needed to talk to him about something only the two of them know about. "Mr. Armstrong, I have to thank you for making this night what I never thought a night like this would be … Refreshing and heartening. I would like to dance again in the course of the evening if you aren’t planning on writing your name on every ladies list, but right now … I cannot stay in your company for I see a friend who helped me greatly and I haven’t had the pleasure of thanking him yet. I hope you understand. Goodbye Mr. Armstrong. She said before excusing herself and leaving. She approached Edgar and after stopping in front of him she bowed her head. "Lord Füller. I’m glad to have found you. I believe I still owe you my thanks for hiding my secret for me.

@Bluecookies - Bruce
@Ouijaloveletters - Edgar (sorry didn’t give him much to go off on)

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Beige Vintage Traveler Twitter Header

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No dance- chat with Louisa


“Before you go terribly ill from that, i do think powdering your face till you look like a ghost in one of my many stories i have read,” Belle said amused by the idea Louisa had. Belle was used to expecting things like this from Louisa, ideas that were sure to astonish her and confuse her on how Louisa could get to such a point. For example, this- making herself terrible ill just to repulse men, if not for the fact that Louisa could seriously damaged her insides Belle would have told her to go ahead- to just see how it would go, because it would be fun to see the look of repulsed on their faces- but even if it did not cause serious internal damage and it worked as an act of repulsion, Belle would still not try it.

It would be a shame to ruin a perfect good dress after all, just because of a male when they were better ways to chase them away like dogs that would not ruin her dresses. Her dresses were always either handmade- make from the finests fabrics and silk or created by her personal tailors through the designs that Belle would give to them. It takes a lot of time, to make her dresses, after all Belle had always cared a lot about detail. “And even if the effects it will have was nonexistent, I still will not advice to that, or at least I would not. I do have no wish to ruin my dresses or trouble the maids with cleaning,” Belle said as she took what was probably her 4th drink already.

She should probably not be drinking this much, especially since this drink was stronger than what she was used to at her home, but as she talked with Louisa, her eyes at times flickering to her surroundings where she saw a lady crying- she wondered what had made the lady cry? Belle could not help herself but to drink, “That lady there,” Belle said turning Louisa’s attention towards a lady that she could not quite see the face of.“She looks quite down no? I am also quite down because I had no wish to debut in England, but I think her reasons for being down and ours are quite drastically different. I wonder what happened to the poor lady,” Belle placed a hand on her face as she turned to the lady, shaking her head. When she saw the lady being approached by a man she knew too well, her lips curled into a frown and she rolled her eyes turning her attention back fully to Louisa.

“Throaty?” Belle giggled at Louisa choice of words, “That is certainly an interesting word choice but yes I do think the russian and german accents are ‘throaty’ as you say,” Belle teased as she stared at Louisa, as they changed the topic and Louisa talked about the fact she would prefer to marry a woman than be bethorted to a man, Belle hummed. “It would certainly be a better to wed a woman than a man, but either ways I am not keen on marriages. I do think men have it easier when it comes to picking who to wed, because they are so many favorable ladies, each quite unique and each quite interesting and not enough interesting men. My heart to those ladies who wish for marriage, they are truly living in suffering.” Belle voiced. “And no matter what my mother desires, no matter how much she complains and nags, and no matter how much Josephine encourages, I shall never marry and I shall live a life of peace. And no matter how society says I will be lonely with a husband, though I would probably be more lonely with one, I will simply ignore. It is a good thing, I have my father on my side, if not, sometimes I fear my mother might give my hand without me knowing,” That was perhaps one of Belle’s biggest fears, her mother having promised her hand without her knowing. Doing the same thing, Belle had heard that her grandmother had done to her mother, and she did not wish for that to happen because after all she could not imagine the type of men that her mother would chose for her.

But fortunately, her father was alive and he would not let that happen.


@ouijaloveletters - Louisa

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devil x saint


Conversation with Ilyas Keats, Aurelia, and Adeline ~ongoing~


As Ilyas spoke, Orpheus’ fists clenched involuntarily, itching to lash out, to release the pent-up frustration that seethed within. He held back his emotion for the sake of the gentle eyes in attendance, and fought the unbearable desire to lurch forward at Ilyas. His jaw clenched with anger and frustration, causing the veins in his neck to expand, his arms creating similar markings as his fists clenched tighter and tighter, forcing the veins from his forearms.

For now, he remained trapped in the cage of public scrutiny, his anger a smoldering fire that burned in silence, a volatile storm held at bay by the watchful eyes of the crowd.

Orpheus felt Ilyas’ hand on his wrist. An electric sort of chill ran up his arm from the contact, a twisted mix of fear and something more. Orpheus braced himself for a hit. A subtle twinge of expectancy crossing his face. He had been here before. He knew this is typically where it started.

However, Orpheus stood stunned when instead of a blow, Ilyas simply spoke to him in a voice as eerily calm as he had spoken to Aurelia before.

[color= #D7BBA8] “Please do not touch me again, I am not sure where those hands have been, first of all…” [/color] Ilyas’ tone dripped with an arrogant sort of disrespect that caused Orpheus’ blood to boil.

After all he had seen, Orpheus was admittedly surprised Ilyas even dared to comment on Orpheus’ happenings.

[color= #BC0057] “I can assure you my hands have been in far less…disreputable…situations than yours have.” [/color] Orpheus said through clenched teeth. His eyes narrowed, looking Ilyas up and down slowly.

Would the alcohol be enough to take him on if he needed to? Orpheus was not sure he could even hit Ilyas. He was not even sure if he wanted to.

[color= #D7BBA8] “If you have a problem with me talking to Aurelia, then perhaps you should reflect on your own issues and address them accordingly.” [/color] Ilyas’ voice broke Orpheus’ drunken train of thought.

[color= #BC0057] “My only ’problem’ is that a man known for his wandering eyes and even further wandering hands has the woman I have been courting out on a balcony without a chaperone. If I were not already intent on it, one might push your marriage to the lady.” [/color] Orpheus immediately regretted his words, feeling Aurelia’s eyes on his back burn with more intensity than they had before. The panic in his chest picked up again as he thought about how to discuss their past, how to explain everything to her. He had pre-prepared a speech, a series of interactions to explain everything to her slowly, however the words seemed to fall out of his mouth clumsily now as he faced Ilyas.

Orpheus refocused on the man in front of him, calming his breathing and carefully constructing a sly smirk that held his words in perfect premeditation. Orpheus leaned in so closely that the warmth of his breath could be felt on Ilyas’ ear.

[color= #BC0057] “You might want to be careful who you are seen alone with…I am sure your father would not be fond of your more…diverse company.” [/color] Orpheus whispered, pulling back slowly, his eyes baring into Ilyas’. There was a cold sort of connection there. One Orpheus could not look away from despite, or perhaps as a result of, his drunken anger.

Orpheus’ threats were minimal at most. A small pebble in the grand scale of Ilyas’ worries, no doubt, but it was the only ammunition Orpheus held against him.
In a dance of words as intricate as any quadrille, Orpheus needed to take the leading role.

[color= #D7BBA8] “I mean, I’ve heard whispers from a little bird that perhaps someone’s feelings and courtship efforts may have been… disappointingly one-sided.” [/color] Ilyas’ calm composure returned, the sly smirk fell from Orpheus’ face.

What did he know? Ilyas had been off galavanting with French women. He knew little of Orpheus’ courtship, and these words were his bite back. Another attempt by a cornered dog to scare off the threat. All bark. As Ilyas typically was.

Orpheus shook the shock of Ilyas’ words from his face, chalking the commentary up to an attempt to rile him up. An attempt he would not indulge.

Not today.

[color= #BC0057] “As one-sided as your conversation here seems to be, Keats…” [/color] Orpheus stood tall, despite the alcohol pulling him downward. The weight of gravity seemed all the more prevalent, and Orpheus strained against the pull of his eyelids. [color= #BC0057] “Birds often sing more than one song…I’d be careful which tune you sing, sir, for I am no longer a child nor a second son. I am scarcely intimidated by your veiled threats and accusations, and unless I have fallen deaf in the past few moments, I believe the lady asked you to leave. You would be wise to oblige, as you have pointed out, I am a long ways from sober composure, and another moment in your presence would necessitate far more than a palm on your chest. I suggest you take your leave, Ilyas.” [/color] Orpheus’ face curled into a smile at the use of Ilyas’ first name. A blatant disrespect that left a comforting ring in his ears, the gentle melody of the conversation halting with a sharp note, a haunting sort of beauty in its pronunciation.

For the first time since they had been children, Orpheus felt confident in front of Ilyas. Not simply confident, but powerful despite his inebriated state. Orpheus held an air of authority he had not previously held.

For once, he was able to face Ilyas as equals.

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In between dance number two and dance number three, with Cassian Ellis


As soon as Albina saw Cassian being apologetic, her frustrations and anger with him faded off. She had not been mad at him specifically, it was just the rejection after rejection and then facing him after, it had just been too much for her. In typical Albina fashion however, she was too stubborn to apologise for how she had snapped at him. She knew it had been wrong, the way she had taken everything out on Cassian, but she was not one to easily admit she was wrong.
“Truly sorry, are you? It took you quite some time to realise that, didn’t it?” she said with a chuckle and her usual playfulness again, in her way this accepting his apology. She checked her surroundings, checking they were still alone. As she noticed they were, she quickly added a more customary reaction to his apology, not wishing to push him away: “Your apology is acknowledged and duly appreciated, Cassian. But perhaps you can make it up to me somehow?” she said, acting in the only way she knew around gentlemen, being flirty. She had a twinkle in her eye, and subtly played with her hair. She could not deny she had a weak spot for Cassian, even after all this time. “Speaking of such things, I must confess something you may not know. Your parents… well, they haven’t exactly sung praises of me. But fear not, for I do enjoy a challenge. After all, a little intrigue can make matters all the more thrilling, don’t you agree?” she said with a bit of a mischievous smile on her face. “There is one favor I must ask of you however – utmost discretion, for now. Regarding this rendezvous, and any subsequent ones we may endeavor upon…” she said, as she looked him into his eyes. She needed him to understand she was serious about this. His parents could not figure out they were talking, for she would be in trouble if they did. She looked around her once again, nervously making sure no one was seeing them talk.


@CerealKiller - Cassian

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Louisa nodded at Belle’s suggestion. ”Certainly, and as you know, that is always something in large supply. That won’t be a problem to acquire. Thank you very much for the suggestion. It should not take too much effort to pull off. Louisa nodded again. She certainly wouldn’t want to make trouble for her maids. She quite like them. ”Of course, I would never wish to make trouble for anyone else except for the men that annoy me. Though, even the powder may be a bit messy, it is still better than my idea.” Belle then directed her attention to a crying young woman. Louisa looked at the girl with a deadpan expression. ”It is possible she has simply been rejected by a man she wished to dance with, though I’m sure she’s alright. It is not our business.” Louisa placed her hands on her hips. ”I do feel that throaty is a better word than guttural, but I shall leave that up to you.” Louisa quietly sighed. ”Women are certainly much calmer than men, do you not agree? Men can be rather…brash, essentially when they drink. Not only do women rarely drink, they do not become boisterous.” Louisa shuddered when Belle had said that she was worried her mother may pick a suitor for her. ”I fear for you, yet also myself. I fear my mother may do the same. I shall do everything I can to resist, and I pray you will do the same. We are in this together.
@Kristi - Belle

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Dance 2: with Lady Lydia (@novella)

Magnus chuckled warmly, but still in a dignified way, as Lydia defended the ladies’ compromise in mobility due to their attire. "Ah, you make a valid point indeed. Yes, the intricate gowns do present their own challenges. It requires a delicate balance of grace and careful steps to navigate this grand ballroom without any mishaps. He smiled as she responded to his playful comment about her elegance. “But I have no doubt that you will handle it with finesse. A lady of your stature always carries herself with the utmost elegance, even in the face of potential obstacles,”

As Lydia expressed her reservations about the expectations tied to her, Magnus merely nodded in understanding. He knew all too well of those expectations. “Yes, the weight of expectations can be a heavy burden to bear,” he agreed, sighing heavily. I am all too familiar with the feeling of being tied to a name and the pressure to act accordingly. It can disguise itself as a blessing to those looking upon it but be nothing but a curse, can it not?" When she asked his thoughts on the diamond and matrimony, Magnus glanced around the room, ensuring their conversation remained confidential. Looking back at her, he paused for a moment with a thoughtful expression on his face. “The Diamond has certainly caught many eyes tonight, including my own,” he whispered, his voice tinged with a hint of something resembling… hope? He thought of their interaction and how at ease he felt conversing with her. It was almost as easy as he had felt with Julius Caesar before the events of last season. This was not the plan, he hadn’t expected to feel this way for her at all. Magnus swallowed down those thoughts before continuing in a whisper, “But as for my own matrimony, well, let’s just say that it is a topic that carries its own complexities. While my mother holds certain wishes for me, I have yet to see myself walking down that path.”

As they stepped back, Magnus smiled at Lydia’s determination to escape the idle chatter centred around matrimony. “I do hope that our prediction of an interesting night proves to be true,” he replied, his voice still lowered. “And as for a plan, I look forward to hearing of such developments.”
Lydia’s smile and acceptance of a dance brought genuine pleasure to his face as he signed her card and lead her to the floor. Magnus took a moment to gather his thoughts and assume his place on the dance floor before lightly chuckling at Lydia’s question. “It seems you have caught me with this query. I believe attending these seasons year after year is not something I particularly relish. It can be quite exhausting and monotonous.” There was a hint of weariness in his expression. “But alas, it is a duty that comes with my position and the expectations placed upon me by my mother, much to my dismay.” He bowed to her at the start of their dance. “I suppose I have managed to survive by either escaping to the gardens or engaging in conversations that veer away from the usual topics.” He looked into Lydia’s eyes, a glimmer of mischief in his own. “And, of course, the occasional dance partner who brings a refreshing perspective and a much-needed dose of humour to the proceedings.”


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