Did you know?

The Language of the Flowers was a popular method to express feelings where words might be improper, but did you know other means of doing so? Some ladies used their parasols, as well as their fans, gloves, and hankies to flirt with a gentleman (or alternatively, tell them to shove it!). — Bree

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Ester Montgomery for Thomas Montgomery. The one that got away (with the pornographer...)
This boy, then. He wasn't new. Wasn't one of the worst people in the common room, those rotten rich boys - like Mr. Jailkeeper - who could not fathom a world beyond their own farts. Was a good working class lad, so he'd heard. Had a bit of a weird looking face, and a bit of a weird thing for preaching. Still.

Aubrey Davis in The Under-Sofa

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Post at least once with the same character every day for a month.


Grand Adventures
May 31, 1888 — Voyager, Abroad
Eugene was quite excited about the fact that he was on a grand expedition. The owls were a bit more trouble than he had been expected but it was fine for the most part. One problem though was the fact that since had never actually been on a ship before, he’d had no clue that he was the sort to get sea sick. As such, a lot of his time was spent either being sick into a bucket or over the side of the ship. He was feeling a bit better today and he was hoping that meant that his body was finally getting used to the motion of the sea. "Do you reckon we will be stopping onto land soon?" Eugene asked curiously as he pulled out a deck of cards to occupy himself with. The owls were usually napping around this time of day so he was now left mostly to his own devices.
[-] The following 1 user Likes Eugene Reese's post:
   Ophelia Devine

Eugene returned from the Avalon Expedition minus a leg.
After having dispatched of the two stowaways, things had been (to coin a phrase) primarily smooth sailing for Alfred. They might not have made any particular discoveries, but they had also managed to avoid any overt calamity, which was an improvement from the last expedition he had been on. No one had come down with dragonpox, the healer hadn't died, the owls were all still fluttering in and out with regular correspondence, and it seemed very unlikely that they would be in danger of crashing into a mountain anytime soon.

That being said, he was generally in good spirits most days. The sea was one of the places where he felt most at ease — though it amused him when he saw signs that for some of his crew, the waves had a different effect.

"If we find Avalon," Alfred responded with a light-hearted shrug. "Still haven't found your sea-legs, hm?"

"I've never been on a ship before - or anywhere, really," Eugene shared as he set up a game of solitaire for himself. "I've been a house serviceman almost all my life." It had been a good life and Eugene had been content but that one event had driven home just how little of the world he had seen. He was happy he had signed up for this expedition, it was proving to be something new, at the very least. "We'll find Avalon, I'm sure of it," he said with the bright optimism of someone that was actually unaware that Avalon was considered a myth by many.

Eugene returned from the Avalon Expedition minus a leg.
Alfred couldn't help but grin at the blind optimism displayed by someone who had so very little to do with actually finding it; he knew that his navigator and several of his officers were decidedly less certain. He wasn't even sure whether Pablo really believed they had a chance at finding it, when it came down to it, or whether he was just along for the ride, so to speak. But it was nice to know that someone on the expedition was confident, instead of just pretending to be.

"I hope you're right," he said with a chuckle. "Or I'll have some explaining to do to the sponsors. They didn't shell out for a three-month pleasure cruise."

"What would they do if we didn't find it?" Eugene asked curiously. He was still rather sure that they would find it, though. "Will finding Avalon make you very rich?" Eugene could barely read so he hadn't read anything about what the Captain was getting out of this aside from the adventure.

Eugene returned from the Avalon Expedition minus a leg.
"I wouldn't say very rich," Alfred said, honestly amused by the man's naivete towards how this whole thing worked. "We're paid for the expedition whether we find anything or not. But if we found an island full of ancient treasures," he said with an almost playful shrug. Really, the benefit of finding something in his mind was being able to get funding for future ventures; he just wanted to be underway, really, and he couldn't do that unless someone was willing to pay him for it.

"At the end of the day, though, no matter how much we bring in, I'll still be a sailor at heart," he continued. He could find the entire fortune of King Arthur himself and have two vaults full to the brim at Gringott's, and he still wouldn't ever fit in at one of those fancy parties he occasionally had to go to in order to schmooze with sponsors.

"So you can't be rich and a sailor?" Eugene asked teasingly. If anything, he thought that the man would be able to sail even more. Rich people always got what they wanted. "You'd be able to fund all your ventures on your own instead of having to rope in those investors." At least, that had been his personal experience with the way that the world around him worked.
"Well, there is that," Alfred allowed with an easy grin. Really, when he said rich there was a sort of persona that went along with it, in his mind. The word didn't just imply having money, but having the sort of lifestyle that went with it. Nice clothes, fancy galas, sitting around in parlors smoking cigars and drinking fancy foreign liquors. Alfred didn't really want any of those things — if he had more money, he likely would just use it all to spend more time at sea.

"There are stories about gentleman-pirates," he allowed. "The sorts with footmen, and lavish cabins, eating delicacies all day. I wouldn't ever want to be that sort of rich." Really, that sort of lifestyle just seemed rather ridiculous to him. He'd always been more of the rough-and-tumble, hardier edge of the middle class, and that had been before he'd lived with nothing at all for years in the wilderness. He'd feel foolish trying to pretend he was anyone grand.

"I was a footman," Eugene shared. It had one been his dearest wish that he could be promoted to butler. It had been a juicy prize but one not quite in his reach at his age despite his years of service. He had been working since he was a lad. "My mistress would demand things to be a color be bought and if it was just a bit off, we had to take it back. I don't think I could see you doing that." Most of Eugenes opinions on the elite centered around the woman that had employed him and she had been on the eccentric, batty snobby side of things.

Eugene returned from the Avalon Expedition minus a leg.
Alfred thought he had known about the man's former work as a footman (he had known, anyway, that he had some sort of background in domestic service and not particularly in bird husbandry, but had hired him despite the apparent lack of qualification and hadn't had cause to regret it yet), but the rest of what he said didn't sound serious to him. Was it even possible for someone to be so trite as to ask for things based not on their functionality, but on their color? The very notion seemed ridiculous to him, and he wondered whether Reese was making a joke.

"I don't think I could see myself caring that much," he admitted. "I barely care what color my clothes are. And that's without getting into... shades," he said, unsure if that was even the right word.

"I'm much the same," Eugene said with a chuckle. He had liked his livery and thought he had looked smart in it but that had been about as fashionable as Eugene could get. He still had the habit of making himself always look clean and tidy with holes in his clothing quickly mended due to his training in being a man in domestic service but that was about it. ""So long as my garments are functional then I am a happy man."

Eugene returned from the Avalon Expedition minus a leg.
Alfred nodded his agreement with the statement. "That's a good trait to have if you enjoy a sailor's life," he remarked. He wasn't sure, from what he'd heard of Reese's seasick tendencies, that he did enjoy a sailor's life, but he had at least been intrigued enough by the idea to sign up for the expedition. Seasickness could be gotten over, at any rate, after enough time out on the water, and Alfred thought it was well worth it. He wouldn't have traded his life of adventure for anything, even with all of the turmoil that it had brought him.

He stood for a moment looking out at the waves, reflecting on this, but was taken from his thoughts by a call from his first mate. There was probably something to be attended to — in fact, it was strange that he'd gotten away from his work as a Captain for as long as he had already — so Alfred thought it best to draw the conversation to a close. "Well, duty calls," he said with a smile. "Take care of yourself."

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