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 ( Submit your own)
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Brigit Langley for Fletcher Langley.
The Matchmaking Menace
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!

The Book Thief
17th March, 1889 — Flourish and Blotts, during this time
A Sunday well spent, he had considered. Evander had even taken the opportunity to indulge himself and browsed the shelves for a fair time before picking up his order. He had gotten so engrossed in The Life and Works of Cornelius Agrippa that he had nearly forgotten to pick up the newest edition of Meditations on Modern Portkey Legislation: The Complete & Unabridged Guide. Imagine!

"You there! Stop there!"

He fumbled in his step at the surprise of it, clutching disconcertedly at the parcel of books he had in hand, tied up neatly in string. He cast a frown at the closest customer to him as he made for the front doors of the shop alongside them, wondering at the fact that they had not stopped to oblige the instruction. After all, the cashier could not possibly be talking to him. (He had forgotten none of his books, not forgotten to pay, had even counted out the exact coins for his payment three times before he had left the house, and once again at the counter.) The cashier sounded decidedly unhappy though, so Evander quickened his pace, hardly wanting to be witness to such a scene. Whoever had invoked such wrath, he was sure it was not him!

(It was him.)

[-] The following 1 user Likes Evander Darrow's post:
   Idunn Fraser
Deciding to go on the hunt for a new book to read - and to perhaps pick up a copy of the J. Alfred Darrow book that he had helped illustrate to send to a couple of distant relatives that had inquired about it - Jacques had made his way to Floruish and Blotts. When someone he didn't think he even knew cast a frown at him, he rose an eyebrow. The cashier certainly was not speaking of him!

As it happened, the cashier seemed intent on the man who had frowned at him. Jacques was not really one to intervene (he was most definitely a lover not a fighter) but he had felt like the man thought it was him - or trying to make it seem that way! "Trying to cast the blame for your thievery is hardly gentlemanly behavior," Jacques stated as he tried to help the cashier out by blocking the door.

1/4 vampire, french accent
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Evander's forehead furrowed deeply as everything about this situation began to freefall very fast. If the other man's accusatory eyebrow raise had not been bad enough, he had now moved - deliberately - into the doorway, and had branded him the culprit.

How he could be considered a thief when his purchases had been parcelled up at the counter in plain view of everyone, Evander did not know, but he folded his arms more protectively about the package of books all the same. He could hear the march of the shopworker's footsteps on his way, but Evander valiantly resisted the temptation to barrel out of the shop simply to avoid the awkwardness of this scene, well aware of how that would look.

He had meant to stand his ground, bewildered but upright, without bandying about any unnecessary, uncivilised words with the man thrusting undue blame his way. However. "I should not think thieves are usually known for their gentlemanly behaviour," Evander cut in in spite of himself, only pressed to speak at all by the compulsive urge for pedantry. Once the logic of this accuser's sentence had been cleared up, though, he was left conscious of... arguably... the more critical issue here. "And I defy you to call me a thief again, sir!" he muttered, trying not to lose his cool but already considerably perturbed. Whoever had heard of anything more preposterous?

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