20th August, 1888 — The Dempsey House, Ireland

Technically, none of them had been trapped during the fog at all, out here, but when half of one's friends were stuck under a pall of fog, it had felt a little that way all the same. One might say it had brought on a weariness, seeing too much of her family too much of the time at home - but one never did need an excuse to feel that way, particularly not when one's family was the brothers Dempsey.

Porphyria flowed in and out of that family-weary feeling periodically, regardless, but she had been on enough forest walks and gotten enough written in recent weeks so as not to feel restless in the house, and Lycoris was never the first to irritate her in close quarters, anyway. Thus, she had swanned idly into her sister's room and had been sprawled on Cori's bed for a good half hour, and was presently in the midst of flipping through the latest Witch Weekly.

Horrendously uncharacteristic, by all accounts, but this summer had seen Ophelia pique her interest with the notion of potential mysteries, and if she was disappointed by the lack of vexing doppelganger schemes strewn in these magazine pages, she ought to chide herself for such ludicrous expectations. She flipped the copy closed with a sigh, squinting incredulously at a flashing advertisement near the top. The Aphrodite Soiree, how trite. Of course, everything about that matchmaking seer was trite, down to her very name. A little too pointed a pseudonym, wasn't it? "I didn't know that Miss Valentine was still lurking around, did you?" Phyri asked, with an incredulous roll of her eyes. Cori might be better informed than she was on the matter, with her liking for Divination, if her - opposite aims to Miss Valentine's. She tossed the magazine her sister's way as evidence. "She's on the prowl for more fools to take in, looks like."  

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

The fog had barely been a blip Lycoris's radar. It was a trivial matter, truly, and she could hardly care about any of it. Of course, it was a bit sad that friends were stuck within it and she could hardly imagine such a thing. Her wand was a constant companion with all of her divination and other things. Without it, she'd likely have gone utterly and truly crazy. She was quite sure of that.

But, as it was, she hadn't been stuck in a magic killing fog and with no means to move about. Not that she was one to be overly active. She would go on a walk or two throughout the week simply to get some fresh air otherwise she typically preferred to remain in her room and continuing to work on her own forms of matchmaking. The news of the Miss Valentine woman had rankled her somewhat, mainly because it was absurd to her to think that the cards would be used purely for the romantic. There were far more uses for them, after all. Focusing purely on love was ridiculous. Plain and simple.

She had just finished up with a quick tea reading and had been about to pull her own cards out to begin doing some readings when her eldest sister breezed in and laid upon her bed to peruse the latest edition of Witch Weekly. It was a companionable silence, Cori flicking over her cards while Phyri flipped through the pages of the magazine.

Glancing up at her sister's words, a brow was raised in response. "I figured the fog would have run her off," she answered simply as she picked up the magazine that had been tossed to her to skim it over and notice the advertisement in question. Her lips pursed slightly as her eyes narrowed at it. "It's almost a shame I can't attend," she said in an annoyed tone, "I'd like to see what she really thinks she has to offer to the peerage. Perhaps expose her for the fraud she clearly is."

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Glorious MJ Masterpiece!

Porphyria snorted. Lycoris was lucky to still have an excuse not to plunge herself into the Nine Circles of Society Hell for another year or two. Although maybe finishing school was the First Circle? "I'd rather attend my own execution," she said, not being funny.  

"But you," she added, propping herself up better on the bed to signal her Increased Enthusiasm, the idea that was germinating (as most of her ideas did, springing up like weeds and beanstalks), "you - you could be her newest rival on the Seer scene! Even faking it, you'd be more fun that I'm sure she is." Not that Cori was a seer, or even close (the only Seer Phyri knew personally was Elliot Carmichael, maybe she could petition him to create a persona in parody, "Mr. Matchmaker" or something equally stomach-churning?) "Predict people's soulmates, and watch it all go wrong," she said, with a wicked grin that suggested she meant the precise opposite, what Cori already did best. "Or just their deaths. Rain down a little doom upon them. That'd be a party!" Perhaps for Halloween? Shame Elliot Carmichael was a teacher, or she'd employ him in that career at once.

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

It was Lycoris's turn to snort. She knew her sister wasn't trying to be funny but it was funny nonetheless. Phyri had always been a bit dramatic in her own way. Morbid, even, but it didn't seem to be anything too strange for the Dempsey family. And though Cori really didn't believe in the whole grandeur of love, she was a bit antsy to get out on the social scene. If nothing else, to make her own judgments on society firsthand.

She regarded her sister with a curious expression, clearly interested to see what she had to say. Phyri's ideas were always interesting to Cori even if they were a bit outlandish. Furrowing her brow in thought, she remained silent for a few moments. She chewed on her bottom lip slightly as she thought over everything that had just been said. It was all rather exciting sounding. It would surely prove to be a rather interesting party but she doubted it was anything she could do any time soon.

"While I would love to do such a thing, something tells me it wouldn't quite be allowed of me," she answered honestly, "At least, not as long as I'm still a Rose." Tapping her cheek thoughtfully, she continued to watch her sister before continuing on, "But it could be a rather grand debut when the time comes."

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Glorious MJ Masterpiece!

Lycoris, either by her age or purely her, arguably... tamer, disposition, seemed to factor things into her life that Porphyria could not fluently feign an understanding of. Imagine seriously considering a life wherein one limited oneself to what was allowed of you! Imagine, Phyri thought, a life wherein one wouldn't mind spending time in society.

She suspected this sister of hers felt that way, at least a little, but she would not begrudge her her choices - and was not wholly convinced the prison that the School of Young Roses was (with or without the late Mrs. Pendergast at its helm) would not serve to whet Cori's disposition down to more of a blade edge. Tamper with that patience of hers, a little.

Porphyria lifted her feet up into the air behind her from her position on the bed, crossing her ankles so she could knock the protuding bit of bone together aimlessly. "You could never be anything so prosaic as a rose, Lycoris," Phyri said, with the haughty, affected tone of a sermon, and a twinkle in her eye that suggested her true aim here was merely the wordplay. "Not in name or in character. Roses are so tediously overrated." She grinned at her sister now; Cori, grâce à her own name, knew more of herbology and botany than Porphyria professed to (as, she supposed could be argued, she considered herself a little more well-versed in murder). But even their mother, exasperated woman that she was in having reached the point of sending her daughters to be finished in the first place, would agree that the Dempsey girls were all more inventive and individual than that. A rose had no personality!

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

Lycoris couldn't help but to laugh lightly at her sister's response. She would never deign to be a mere rose as she had to quite agree with Phyri how overrated the flowers were. Unless, of course, they were a more exotic colored rose. But those were few and far between. No, she was quite happy with being Lycoris, a flower that couldn't survive with it's leaves and vice versa. Once she'd gotten old enough to understand things more and to enjoy reading, she'd looked up her namesake poem and then further investigated the origin of it all. Truthfully, the lycoris flower was quite poetic in its own right and she was quite pleased to share its name.

"While I agree with you, until mother or Mrs. Abercrombie see fit to allow me a debut, I am force to play by their rules. At least, for the most part and just for the time being," she said with a faint shrug. While she may not be a fan of the added finishing school, she could hardly argue with their mother on such a thing. It would only make matters that much harder for her in the long run.

"However," she started, a conspiratorial sort of smirk on her features as she focused her attentions to Phyri, "If you were to talk mother into a Halloween ball of sorts, I could hopefully secure a break from the school at such a time and we can plan it in our own way."

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Glorious MJ Masterpiece!

She chuckled at Cori's answer, which sounded a great deal like her sister was merely biding her time. Her eventual debut might grant her a little more leeway in traversing society, but it was not freedom in any sense of the word. In time, there might be - as long as one did not marry, of course.

It occurred to Porphyria that she had resisted such expectations rather spectacularly.

"As astonished as she would be at my suggestion to throw a ball," Phyri answered with a bark of laughter, "I'm not sure she'd trust me with it." She grinned - and it'd be no surprise if their mother had her doubts. Even if it was the one date one might expect her to show a little enthusiasm for, well - given the way she had just been not entirely jesting with Lycoris about doomed-soulmate-party-predictions - she wasn't certain anyone would leave her alone with it long enough to do anything appropriately outlandish. And perhaps Halloween was almost too predictable a night for it, after all: people who could only embrace the macabre for one night a year were made of the frailest stuff, and she did not care to know them.

"You know what no one in the world shall stop me from throwing, though?" Porphyria added dreamily. "My next birthday party. I'll be twenty-seven, and you know what that means..." She pulled a delighted expression, eyebrows raised high. "I shall at last be able to celebrate my official spinsterdom, and I'll be damned if I don't get to have the most cheerful wake for my eligible years imaginable!" Nor was she joking, indeed. She had been looking forward to to marking the moment for years.

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

Phyri had a good point. Even if their mother didn't question her motives in regards to throwing a ball, she'd get little say in what got done or how it went. Which, unfortunately, meant that there was little Cori would be able to do with her talents as a result. If she was even allowed to attend, she'd surely have to parade about as was expected her as a little debutante. An almost defeated sort of sigh escaped her then.

But it was clear Phyri still had more to say and Cori was glad that she'd not given up hope entirely. Listening with increased interest, a grin spread over her features once more. Her sister's idea was a rather fantastic one, one that couldn't be so easily dismissed by their mother. It would be her birthday, after all, so who could really begrudge her what she wanted? And it was the perfect premise for their initial idea. Stepping into spinsterdom and foretelling of ill fated matches. It was almost too perfect.

"So long as you don't find yourself utterly smitten before then and well on your way to the marriage bed instead," Cori joked. The chances of that were slim, luckily, but she wasn't the type to write things off entirely.

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Glorious MJ Masterpiece!

Cori would be a good sport for that occasion, Porphyria was sure. Shalott would too, of course; and the boys, if they promised to behave; Christabel was the most dubious invite of her own siblings, if her most sensible sister even wanted to come - that, she supposed, would depend on how generous Phyri was feeling on the day.

It was not far off, though, admittedly. Best that she did plan a little for it in advance. For nothing would get in her way about this, nothing.

Least of all being smitten. Phyri stared at her sister, nonplussed, for a long moment, and then spluttered into riotous laughter, draping herself half off the bed in her incredulousness, at the very humour of the suggestion. All her family knew this quite well, her family and her friends to boot, so of course Lycoris wasn't being serious. "The marriage bed!" She scoffed, clutching at her chest at the madness of the idea. She may have already come closer than she had meant to a man at all (not by choice, obviously) but even that was less far-fetched than marriage. To sell herself willingly into imprisonment to anyone! Even if she did find herself... smitten - even if she met the most astonishing love of her life - ha! She'd not marry them. Not for the world. "Come now, one doesn't have to be a Seer to be sure that's not going to happen," Porphyria chided, teasingly wagging a finger at Cori's tarot cards, like they might dare to disagree. Nothing the likes of Miss Valentine could predict would put a dent in that fact.

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a sublime set by Lady! <3