16th December, 1893 — 1893 Auction of Oddities, London
Porphyria had been in her own little world for some time now – lurking in her own little plane of existence. She had lost two of her closest friends to the dragons; mourning was not formally expected for friends, but she had forgone her usual dark dresses for whites and pale washed out colours (with odd draping white veils and dresses like a ghost or a bride or a debutante; she had even gone out in a pastel blue sprigged teagown the other day, as if she had stolen it straight from Lycoris’ dresser). The election results had passed with as little fanfare as Christabel’s sudden return to the house. Phyri had been doing more writing than speaking for the past month or so, and usually had her nose in a notebook, ink bleeding onto her hands, and no awareness of anyone else.
And somehow December had dawned already. Submerged as she had been in her own head, Phyri had surfaced for a while, just in time to attend an event she thought would be interesting – the auction.
She hadn’t looked up the items on offer beforehand, so she had haunted the place for some time this morning, just browsing before the auction began. Perhaps she would bid on something for herself. Possibly – if she felt generous enough – she would find someone in her family a Christmas present here. If all these other visitors did not bid on them first.
“Which lot do you think most interesting?” she pressed, of the person beside her once she had finally moved along from the painting, Doorways, and found herself stuck in another queue to view the next item, which had drawn a crowd of its own. Phyri didn’t know what she would use these all for, but dissuading other people from buying them would do her no trouble.
And somehow December had dawned already. Submerged as she had been in her own head, Phyri had surfaced for a while, just in time to attend an event she thought would be interesting – the auction.
She hadn’t looked up the items on offer beforehand, so she had haunted the place for some time this morning, just browsing before the auction began. Perhaps she would bid on something for herself. Possibly – if she felt generous enough – she would find someone in her family a Christmas present here. If all these other visitors did not bid on them first.
“Which lot do you think most interesting?” she pressed, of the person beside her once she had finally moved along from the painting, Doorways, and found herself stuck in another queue to view the next item, which had drawn a crowd of its own. Phyri didn’t know what she would use these all for, but dissuading other people from buying them would do her no trouble.
a sublime set by Lady! <3