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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1893. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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The first patented espresso machine was in 1884 by Angelo Moriondo. — Fallin
They hadn't been thieves before, at least. Noble had not been a murderer before either. Now he was one. Did thieving make a difference, at this point?
but the system is done for

Elementary, My Dear Dempsey
12 March 1893 — The Dempsey Estate; Breakfast

On a Sunday morning, Lowri liked to have breakfast with her family. In truth, on most days she liked to do so given the family table was far more lively than anything she could cook up in her room with a tray. She’d already read the morning paper, and besides, the family matriarch had some sleuthing to do. As much as she loved her children, she was not above suspecting them of tomfoolery or mischievousness. In fact, she rather counted on it to entertain her during the slower times at the mansion, or when she was in need of inspiration for a poem. Today, however, she was want for neither, and instead required answers.

“I hope everyone is enjoying their morning so far,” She announced as she walked in to face her offspring. Her gaze was already sweeping their faces as they ate, her eyes narrowed and promising violence if she didn’t get a confession. “One of you lot found your way into my greenhouse last night. I have no idea why, but I can say that the vine above my greenhouse entrance is damaged, and in need of some attention.” Lowri’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stood at the head of the table. She highly doubted anyone would confess to it, and felt rather excited at the prospect of solving a mystery before tea-time.

Open Invite for the Dempseys or anyone with reason to be there!
2 posts/2 days rule!

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Since moving out, Endymion had been no less familiar a sight at the family estate, no matter the day or the hour – and last night he’d been so drunk he’d forgotten where he lived.

So he’d come home instead, and now, as their mother came in for breakfast with vengeance in her eyes, Endymion had the sneaking suspicion that he had gone tramping about the garden last night before coming in, and had maybe passed out in a flowerbed for half an hour or so before making it up to his old room.

“Oh?” he asked. But he wasn’t sure that was what had happened, so he finished chewing his piece of bacon and feigned an innocent gaze. (He didn’t think owning up to that would soften his mother’s humour this morning in the slightest. Best to let her bark up the wrong tree for a while and vent out her frustrations on one of his siblings until the annoyance wore off.) Food was his first priority this morning, besides.

“How d’you know it was someone?” Endymion asked, in his best attempt at ‘idle curiosity’ rather than too obviously making excuses for himself. “Couldn’t it have just been the wind?”

Lycoris tried to recollect if she had done anything to warrant vine damage when she had been out near the greenhouses the prior evening practicing her swing in croquet for an upcoming garden party. One of her 'friends' had made fun of her form and swing at the last garden party. But had one of the balls she had hit wild damaged the vine?

The answer would have to be a 'I am not sure'. Endymion spoke up first and Lycoris briefly had to wonder why he had even bothered moving out if he was going to still be home so much. "I think we all would have noticed windiness strong enough to damage that vine," Lycoris voiced as she spread jam onto her toast. Phyri probably would have been praising how depressing a wind it was or something so Lycoris was sure she would have been aware of such a wind somehow. Besides, one of her siblings being in trouble meant a lot less potential for herself to be in trouble.

The following 1 user Likes Lycoris Dempsey's post:
   Porphyria Dempsey
The voice that had piped up first was not the one she’d expected, but she was nonetheless unsurprised to see him here. Of course, the matter of Endymion’s mere presence was enough to rocket him to the top of the suspect list; if anyone were to traipse through her greenhouse… but she was momentarily distracted by the level of absurdity of his following questions. She couldn’t decided whether she was elated of how transparent he was being, or of how absolutely shameful his deception skills were.

Thankfully this maternal wound delivered by Endymion was repaired by dear Lycoris and her rationality. And given that Lycoris was the last one of her offspring that she’d produced, she was content to believe that her sensibilities were perhaps saved for the last of the Dempsey children. “Thank you, Lycoris,” She breathed before shooting Endymion a suspicious look. “Though of course, Endymion, you might be correct if you can convince me what kind of wind would be strong enough to tear not only the leaves off the fine but the cordons and the shoots as well, hmm?”

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“Only the West Wind,” Phyri put in, condescending to join the conversation only to quote a line or two of Shelley’s poem to that effect. “Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; / Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear.”

“But Lycoris is right, last night was still.” Porphyria offered nothing else, regardless of her own guilt or innocence. Evidently, someone else would trip themselves up first.

“Alright,” Endymion said, with a shrug in his defence. “I don’t know, I wasn’t even here.” And, he did not protest aloud, sure it would only incense his mother’s mood, he was probably one of her only children who appreciated the gardens, appreciated her flowers, enough not to dare damaging them. Intentionally.

“Oz is a giant, he probably got in the way,” he posed instead, and then shot a plaintive look at Lycoris to get her back for lumping him in it with her rational comments and whatnot. “Or did you do any painting outside yesterday?”

Lycoris felt validated when Phyri backed her up on the lack of wind. She took a sip of her tea as the conversation continued. "How could painting effect the greenhouse in such a way?" Lycoris asked, genuinely bemused. Granted, she had a tendency to make random things briefly come to life and off the canvas as she continued working on her version of painting charms.  But she had not been doing that the day before.

“It wouldn’t, but it would put you in the right place at the right time,” Endymion pointed out casually, with an eyebrow waggle of brotherly retribution. Lycoris might be the baby, ostensibly the most innocent, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t occasionally be the cause of chaos, herself. She was obviously just a better liar about it.

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