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.


How Much Longer?
December 9th, 1888 - McPadraic Estate

Alexandra and Florence had returned from Pendergast for the month break four days ago, and so far Alex had been keeping her head down. Sure she wouldn’t stay in the same room as her step mother for long, but that was nothing new. But she hadn’t spoken out against the woman or her father, she hadn’t ventured into the staff area without a tutor or governess with her and she didn’t fight when her father told her no. Surely it was enough time that perhaps they could get through a conversation without argument?

It was worth a try at the very least.

It was just past ten in the morning, and her father would be in his office doing whatever he did on an off day. Alex straighten her dress and touched her hair making sure it was nicely done up in a bun, she didn’t need her father getting in a mood before she had bought up the topic she was desperate to discuss. With a deep breath she knocked on the door and waited.

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Arthur sat at his desk, reading the newspapers. There was a cup of coffee beside him, which one of the maids had just brought in, and he had requested nothing further. Hence, he was surprised when there was a knock on his door. He folded the newspaper and placed it before him, though not before casting a small charm to mark where he had stopped reading. The newspapers were reporting on the Webster case, and although the information was horribly incorrect, and the criticism on the MLE unfair, he wanted to finish reading. Not in a terribly good mood because of said circumstances, he frowned at the door and called out: in a low voice "Come in." If this was a servant disturbing him over something trivial...
With one last check of her dress and another deep breath, Alexandra opened the door and walked in, closing it behind her. Looking at her father at his desk was a normal sight, and he didn’t look like he was in a good mood either which was also a normal sight for her. Perhaps she should come back at a different time…

“I was hoping for a word Father” she said instead.

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Alexandra who needed a talk. Generally not a good thing. His daughter had a lot of strange notions about playing Quidditch, being some kind of academic, or doing anything else improper to her rank and sex. And when she did not get her way, she would do crazy things like cutting off her hair. He feared for her future, but it was only with the greatest effort that he could keep her in line. He was not sure how much longer he could protect her against herself. And so the frown on his forehead deepened as he looked at her. "Do sit down, Alexandra."
Her father and her had always looked at things differently, it was just unfortunate that Alex had been born with her temper. She hoped she could keep it now however, she needed this conversation to go in her favour. So, she did as she was told and sat down across from him, doing the proper thing of fixing her dress once there.

“I was wondering” hoping “if you would allow this year to be my last at Pendergast” she said deciding it would be best just getting straight to the point.

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That question only demanded for one word: "Why?" he asked, in a tone that showed that the question was ridiculous in the first place.
Alexandra was ready for it. So much so she didn't even need to take a breath to calm herself.

"Well, firstly I don't see how another year or two will benefit me at this point. Secondly I'll be nineteen in a couple of weeks. Thirdly," and hopefully the one he cared about "I could start looking for a husband should I come out at this year." Not that she wanted to marry, but at this point she would rather fake it in society than at the school.

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