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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1894. 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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Queen Victoria was known for putting jackets and dresses on her pups, causing clothing for dogs to become so popular that fashion houses for just dog clothes started popping up all over Paris. — Fox
It would be easy to assume that Evangeline came to the Lady Morgana only to pick fights. That wasn't true at all. They also had very good biscuits.
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20 March 1894 — Potts/Grimstone Wedding; Plunkett Farm

The deed was done, and Irene walked aimlessly amongst the crowd gathered to celebrate the happy couple. Laughter ricocheted incessantly around her, along with the thick, heavy perfume of flowers that had been provided for the event. For having attended one of her first events back out in society after her recovery, Irene felt rather proud at having accomplished the seemingly banal task she’d given herself: being in the middle of a crowd without panicking. Ever since she’d left St. Mungo’s, a crowd of more than 20 bodies had proved to be overly excessive; it introduced an intense pressure in her chest that grew and grew until she walked away. Even after having left, the nightmares were always more intense in the following days.

So now, being amongst a large body of people hadn’t seemed like something she was prepared for, and had seen her shoulders draw tensely as she’d entered the wedding; but now that the atmosphere had considerably relaxed, so did Irene. She felt less trapped being around people now, and even with her corset tightened, her heart fluttering against her breastbone, she felt at ease to walk around freely. She’d conversed with a few of the guests and paid her respects to the newlyweds. Up until now though, it felt as if a transparent curtain had been lowered in front of her, muddling her view of everyone she came across. Her answers were pleasant; bordering on detached; automatic sometimes, and she kept catching her gaze wandering elsewhere; not fully present and on more than one occasion she’d reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears.

They had needed to cut it when and come to St. Mungo’s, and it brushed the tops of her shoulders easily ruffling in the spring breeze. She would have let them grow it out by magic, and yet it seemed…appropriate to let it fall where it wanted. She had lost something in all those months she’d been unconscious, and though she wasn’t sure what it was, it felt warranted that she let her hair grow back on its own accord. Even so, that meant her hair wasn’t long enough to put up in the bun she was so used to. It even escaped a low chignon, and try as she might for the wedding, quite a few strands had escaped on the walk over. In a way they felt nice, tickling the sides of her neck and brushing against the tops of her cheekbones, and she had accepted that this would be part of her appearance from now on.

Straightening her gloves, Irene fiddled with the teacup saucer in her hand, and sipped on whatever liquid she’d been handed by someone, content to watch the crowd mill about. Perhaps before the dragon attack she’d have recognized more than half the people here, but now when she looked at them, all she could see were new faces that occasionally looked her way, recognition sparking across their features, which then gave way to confusion when she didn’t return their smiles. She tried to wave, at least to meet them halfway. Something told her that the Irene before Italy would have done more.

It was a particularly sunny day; a good luck sign if they’d ever seen one, people had murmured around her. Good luck for what, Irene hadn’t the foggiest, but she nevertheless took off her hat, ignoring the startled stares from people around her, and canted her chin towards the rafters of the barn, closing her eyes and leaning against a nearby post to breathe in the warm air that wafted through. After a few moments of peace, the restlessness returned, seated low in the pit of her stomach. It was something that she’d dealt with since she woke up back in December. A need to move, to do something instead of stay in one place. Something that began as a small nudge at the back of her mind and escalated until Irene moved her feet towards the open barn doors; the feeling only seemed to retreat when she stepped back out into the sun again and leaned against the side of the barn outside. Only once she was outside again, her hair whipping about her face in the wind, did she realize she’d dropped her hat somewhere amongst the crowd.

But the feeling of restlessness had just begun to cease, so she stayed outside for a while before digging in her reticule and pulling out: a pack of cigarettes. Bringing the tip of one of them to her lips, she lit it with her wand and inhaled, suddenly feeling the urgency fade away. Exhaling, the cloud of smoke billowed in front of her. She watched the curls of smoke dance through the air, searching for release and finally evaporating in front of her. A noise sounded to her left and as she took another pull, she glanced towards it as a figure appeared around the corner.

The following 4 users Like Irene Crawley's post:
   Elias Grimstone, Millie Potts, Penelope Fawcett, Vincent Iago

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Evangeline genuinely wasn't sure how she felt today. On the one hand, if you had asked her a few years ago how she would feel on the occasion of Elias' wedding, she likely would have said distraught. But their entanglement had been a long time ago now, and for better or worse, Eva was a very different person now than she had been at eighteen. And she had moved on, and she was happy, in a way she didn't think she'd ever really been before. And all she wanted for Elias was for him to be happy.

Still. Some part of her was still a little sad today, and she thought that was probably only natural. Eva could be happy for Elias and his new bride and be sad for her own past all at the same time. The feelings, it turned out, were not mutually exclusive.

Needless to say, taking a break from being surrounded by other people celebrating the nuptials certainly felt like a wise idea for Eva's own sanity. Cognitive dissonance, it turned out, was emotionally draining, and not at all a good state of mind for celebrating. It was fine. Of course it was fine. But she needed a break.

As it happened, she was not the only person who had had this idea, because when Evangeline made her way outside, she found that she was not alone. She noted the woman's cigarette and her identity specifically in that order, which probably said something or other about her. Ah, well. "Could I bother you for one of those?"

The following 2 users Like Evangeline Rowle's post:
   Daffodil Grimstone, Elias Grimstone

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