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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Iola Hitchens for Elladora Black. The Blacks' black sheep.
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.


Brave New World
January 10th, 1889 — Magical Docks

Kate hadn't been looking forward to arriving in England at all, until she'd had to undergo weeks of life aboard the ship. It wasn't primarily a passenger liner, which was probably her father's design — anything to insulate them from the eyes of the curious English as long as possible — but as a result their presence there had felt almost like an afterthought. She wasn't sure Isaac had noticed, but they were very much in the way amidst the sailors and cargo loaders. She'd felt intrusive and conspicuous, two things that were her least favorite feelings. England might not make any of that go away, but at least they'd have more than one tiny bedroom to themselves to get away from it all.

Of course, she didn't really have any idea what their accommodations were. Papa had arranged something — or perhaps the solicitor he'd hired had arranged something, she wasn't exactly sure. She definitely needed to find said solicitor before she could figure out where they were meant to go from here. Luckily, the docks weren't at all crowded, given that they were the only two passengers debarking when the ship pulled in. The tall Englishman with the cane was not difficult to find.

"Mr. Echelon-Arnost?" she asked a little shyly, clutching Isaac's hand as the sailors unloaded their baggage. If this wasn't him, they were in trouble, because there were no other likely candidates in sight and she had not prepared to go wandering the streets of London on her own mere minutes after their arrival. "I have a letter for you from our father." She hadn't opened it, and it was sealed, so she wasn't sure exactly what it was. Money? More detailed instructions? Whatever it was, she hoped Mr. Echelon-Arnost was expecting it. She was counting on him to know exactly what to do, and was expecting him to be brisk and business-like — if she had to participate in this interaction much beyond making small talk, she would very quickly become lost.
The trip on the ship had felt like a big grand adventure to Isaac. He hadn't really cared that it wasn't some fancy ship meant for passengers or that the little room aboard the ship he shared with his sister was indeed very small. It was new and exciting and that was what caught his attention. Having lived the life of such a pampered child, experiencing new things was really quite exhilarating.

And then they'd docked in London and the allure of the adventure was gone. It smelled and it was cold. He wasn't so sure he'd like it after all as he followed his sister off the boat and to the docks. He clung to her hand though stayed behind her some as she stepped up to approach a gentleman. Once they'd come to a stop, he barely peeked out from behind her to get a little bit of a look of the blond man with a cane. He wasn't aware of what needed to be done or what anything really entailed, all odd that had been left to Kate after all. So he remained silent and watching almost bashfully as a result.

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