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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 ( Submit your own)
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Questionable Friend/Crush for Philip Aymslowe.
When your mum thinks you're gay for your best friend (but you probably are)
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 3+ times in three or more class threads during the course of a school year. Must all be done with the same character, be they a professor, student, or school portrait or ghost!

Love in the Dark
Please don't fall apart
I can't face your breaking heart
I'm trying to be brave
Stop asking me to stay

October 7th, 1883 — Belby Residence, London

Packing with an arm in a sling—it had still not quite healed, though it had been three weeks now since his accident—had posed difficult, but not impossible. Ephraim hadn’t needed to bring much, after all, just some clothes and a few books. His great-grandfather’s pocket watch had been left in the family vault, intended for Archer’s seventeenth birthday. He doubted his father and brothers would take kindly to him taking it with him, under the circumstances. Staisfied that his task was done, the wizard allowed the top of the trunk to fall closed just as Eloise entered the room they had, until today, shared.

It was cowardly, he knew, but he had not told her yet. She might have seen it coming, of course—he was a beast now, an unemployed beast. He was no good for her, just as he was no good for the children. Through the entire ordeal, his incomparable wife had been his greatest champion as he had lost first his reputation, then his job, then all contact with his natal family. She would not, he knew, take this news well, but Ephraim hoped that in time, Eloise would realize that it was what was best—best for her, for Aria, and for Archer.

“Eloise,” he greeted gently, the warm smile on his lips tempered by the sad look in his eyes.

[-] The following 1 user Likes Cyrus Westerman's post:
   Elladora Black

MJ is pretty nifty @ graphics, if I do say so myself!
Ephraim's injury had been unexpected. She would be lying if she hadn't said she struggled with it, but not once had she ever thought that they would not figure it out somehow. They had been together since they were young. Of course they would weather it together - there was no other option to be considered. So she'd thought, up until the very moment she walked into their bedroom to the sight of him with a packed bag.

She abruptly stopped in the doorway, half in shock and half blocking him from leaving with her arms braced against either side, "You've packed." Perhaps he was just... Eloise struggled to come up with any feasible reasons that he had packed a bag and wasn't leaving them. She had thought that they'd had a plan for the full moon. She'd been acquiring supplies in the cellar. It didn't come cheap - especially without any income - but it was a necessity.

She could have believed he would only be leaving for a few days, but that look in his eyes was one she hadn't seen before. It held a note of finality to it that brought a sting with an aftertaste of nausea. Her face paled but rather than tear up in sadness, her heart-pounded in fury.
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   Elladora Black

MJ is the queen

He hesitated for the length of an agonizing heartbeat before nodding slowly, not trusting his voice to speech. If Ephraim dared to open his mouth, who knew what words would betray him, or what crack in his voice would fracture his resolve. He was doing this for her, for the children; he no matter how painful it was, he had to be strong.

He moved half a step towards Eloise, hand outstretched, before thinking better of it. His arm fell loosely back to his side, as useless as the rest of him. He was no good for her, not anymore. Before, he had been a healer, a provider. Now he was, at best, a liability.

MJ is pretty nifty @ graphics, if I do say so myself!
Her heart had twisted in on itself. Love and hope turned into hate and shame. It was astonishing how quickly life could be altered - how one decision would effect so much of her and her children's lives. "You can't abandon us," She told him in a voice so rough that it was nearly a growl, "You are not a coward. You'll not leave your family over this." Whether she was trying to reason with him or demand that he be who she wanted him to be, she would never know.

MJ is the queen

He flinched at her words—both because she was formidible when wronged, and because the truth of them stung. It was abandonment, and nearly every part of him screamed to abandon the plan, to say the course. But that small, rational pocket of his brain demaned to know what possible future his children could have when placed under the same roof as a werewolf, and what society his wife could ever hope to return to.

Couldn’t Ellie see that staying was the easy route? That it was far more difficult, far braver, for him to go?

“I think—” he began heasitantly. “I think that given time, you’ll understand, if you don’t already.”

He wasn’t leaving to spite his wife, the woman he had loved so ardently for so long, nor to punish his children forcircumstances beyond their control. He was leaving to save them.

But if that was true, why did he feel so deplorable?

MJ is pretty nifty @ graphics, if I do say so myself!
"I'll never forgive you," Her eyes were stubbornly full of unshed tears. Pleading wouldn't work, she knew this, which was why she had turned to desperate threats. There had to be something that she could say - or do - to keep him from ruining their lives. "The children won't even remember you by the time they're grown. Is that what you want? Fatherless children with sour memories of what they could have had if you hadn't left us?"

MJ is the queen

I will never forgive you.

It tore at him, a pain he hadn’t known was possible, but Ephraim remained adamant. How easy it would be to fall to his knees, to tell her how wrong he was, to sob into her arms and admit that she was right and that he would stay. A man, though, could not afford to be ruled by his emotions. Ephraim had to choose the path of chivalry, cling to the last vestiges of who he was before he became a monster.

“They would come to resent me anyways,” he said softly, his gaze falling to her feet. Anything but her face. It didn’t help, though—he would have each and every feature burned into his memory until the day he died.

“At least this way, they won’t be harmed by me as well.”

MJ is pretty nifty @ graphics, if I do say so myself!

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