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Charming has a number of lonely plots looking for love. Why not take a gander and see what hijinks your character can get up to? — Kayte ( Submit your own)
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Clare Victoria Basiltree for Christopher Basiltree.
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The thought of marrying Cecily Gallivan had occurred to Fitz in the way that the thought of marrying any attractive young lady did: a firm maybe and a hasty step away to more pleasurable topics, like sport or brandy.Fitzroy Prewett in Well. That took a turn.
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Virtue, how frail it is! Friendship how rare!
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May 21st, 1891 — Tycho's Home, Wellingtonshire
Mutability | Percy Bysshe Shelley

The next time he broke things off with a lover (if there ever was a next time — if there was ever another person), Ford was going to give himself the evening off afterwards. He'd known that he was planning to have that conversation this afternoon when he'd scheduled this dinner, of course, so he had no one to blame for himself. He'd even done this on purpose — sort of. It was like he was trying to prove something to himself by aggressively continuing on with the rest of his life as though there were nothing of particular import happening that afternoon. He'd wanted to reassert that he didn't really have feelings for Macnair, and that he was extricating himself from this relationship before he could accidentally develop any. He'd wanted to reassure himself with a perfectly normal, mundane dinner that he was fine; that there was no gap left by Macnair's absence; that everything could go back to just the way it had been last month with no trouble at all.

The trouble was that over the course of the day he'd stopped believing that. He'd essentially admitted as much to Macnair during their conversation that afternoon. After slogging through the rest of work he wanted nothing more than to take some time to himself and process everything (and maybe reread some sad poetry with a cup of tea), but he'd already made plans, and if he canceled at the last minute he'd have to think up an excuse not only for Dodonus but for his family, whom he'd already told not to expect him for dinner. Maybe this was better than sulking around the house all night, anyway — at least Dodonus didn't know him as well as Noble did, and was less likely to press for details if he picked up on the fact that Ford was feeling off. He'd warned Dodonus that he was 'scattered,' too, in one of his earlier letters, so maybe he'd get a pass.

So here he was, standing in front of the garden gate at the only house on the street with rainbow roof tiles, his insides aching from a heartbreak that was entirely his own devising (and probably unearned in the grand scheme of things, but in the moment no less bleak). This would be fine. Maybe it would be diverting. Maybe he'd forget about the way he was feeling. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He managed to get through the garden without being accosted by gnomes, though he did hear a devious snicker from a few feet away on one occasion that made him pick up his pace slightly. He reached the front door and would have knocked, except that it was already standing partially open. Lowering his brows in mild confusion, Ford took a few steps inside and spotted Dodonus, who didn't appear to be dressed for dinner in the typical sense.

"Sorry — am I early?" Ford asked, knowing very well he wasn't. The subtext to the question was did you forget I was coming? because between the half-open door and the lack of formal dinner attire, he didn't know what else to think.
@Tycho Dodonus @Roberto Devine


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Blissfully ignorant to the heart woes of his coming guest, Tycho was currently dealing with his own problems. He had tried cooking the meal himself because his cook had quit just hours before. Something to do with the gnomes having eaten his supply of garden carrots. Something about having to deal with Williams loudly complaining every other day that he should make rotting food so that Williams could 'have a taste'. There had been other complaints but Tycho had lost interest in the conversation and tuned it out. All in all, it had been a little hectic.

And one thing was for sure, Tycho was no cook.

He had cracked the door open to get rid of the smoke. Luckily for himself and Greengrass's bellies, Tycho had sent a mummy, I am dying of starvation, save me letter to his mother and food had been sent over through the floo (covered so there was no soot, thank goodness). Just in time, too, it seemed. As Greengrass was at the door asking if he was early.

Tycho probably would not wear typical formal attire even to an actual formal dinner. So for this meal with Greengrass, Tycho was clad in a housecoat that was a little flowery (the fact it was originally meant for a woman likely had something to do with that), flouncy white dress shirt and pants. Which was very dressed up to him when in his own home.

"You're right on time, why do you ask?" Tycho hoped Greengrass would ignore the faint scent of burned pork from Tychos earlier efforts.



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Because you're wearing a housecoat, Ford thought, but didn't say. Dodonus surely knew he was wearing a housecoat without Ford having to tell him, and he seemed so nonchalant about it that he must have done it on purpose. Would it be rude, then, for Ford to call out how unusual it was to invite a guest over for dinner and then not even bother to put on a proper suit?

"Oh, no reason," Ford said with a slight frown. "Just, uhm. My watch has been running fast lately," he lied. "Is Williams around here somewhere, too?"


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"Oh. Well. Then you better try catching it," Tycho deadpanned almost immediately before breaking out into a grin to show that it was a joke. He chuckled at the mention of Williams. "He's around here somewhere. Probably spying or off flirting with that pretty ghost on the other block. " Tycho said, unsure himself where Williams had gone off to. He did have his own unlife that Tycho didn't generally keep track of.

"But come! You just got off work, you must be knackered off your feet." Rather than some sort of dining chair as one might expect from a dining table, he had set the food out on a table that had fluffy, cushioned armchairs instead.



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In all his extensive conversations with ghosts, Ford had never encountered one that he would have said was flirting, and the notion made his head spin a bit. Given that only a few hours prior he'd had to have a conversation about where people were and weren't allowed to wander around naked with a particularly grumpy spirit, he couldn't help but ponder the... logistics of relationships after death, which wasn't something he really wanted to be thinking about. He cleared his throat as though by doing this he could also clear his head of any hypothetical images that lingered there. Best not to touch on the subject of Williams again, he decided, unless the man chose to make an appearance. Ford certainly didn't want to spend any more time thinking about ghosts wooing each other in the afterlife.

"Oh, uhm — sure," he agreed, raising an eyebrow at the choice of dining room furniture but deciding that this, like the housecoat, was better left unaddressed. He sat in one of the chairs and briefly wondered if he was supposed to sit up straight, like he usually would for dinner, or sit back like this type of chair seemed to require. He glanced at Dodonus for some kind of cue. It was strange that he was the one who felt so uncomfortable in this situation, when Dodonus was the one who wasn't following any of the rules for proper societal etiquette. Open front doors, housecoats, armchairs. Ford was worried about what dinner would bring. Should he even expect a fork, at this rate? Maybe he'd find a pair of chopsticks instead and spend the entire meal trying to figure out how to actually eat with nothing except two sticks.

(On the other hand, this was proving very distracting from his thoughts. He could hardly relive his afternoon conversation with Macnair on repeat when he was too preoccupied trying to figure out how to sit.)

Ford wanted a drink but thought it would be rude to ask for one, and he was too nervous to ask what they were meant to eat for dinner. "This is a lovely house," he said instead (it was a strange house, was what it was — rainbow roof tiles and garden gnomes, and he'd only seen two rooms of it so far, but Ford was too polite to say that). "Do you live here alone?"


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Tycho noticed Fords confusion but hid a grin. He was used to guests initially being out of sorts the first time he brought them over. His mother refused to step foot into it which really only encouraged Tycho in his bid to have his decor as he liked. Ford would likely be very relieved to see that the actual placements of the table were as they should be. Just... with colorful cutlery rather than the typical silver. The only "typical of an upper class mans home" dinnerware were the dishes the food had been brought over in.

"My family is Dutch so our dinner consists of typical Dutch dishes but I also have a steak and kidney pie on offer as well," Tycho said as he magicked away the covers of their dinner. "And aside from a couple of live-in staff, I just live here with Williams. Which allows me a fair bit of freedom with it. You must see my Astronomy attic."



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"You have an astronomy attic?" Ford asked, raising an eyebrow. Did the addition of a qualifying word mean that Dodonus had multiple attics? That would be quite unusual, but Ford supposed with magic all things were possible. It would be strange to use an expanding charm to provide multiple attics instead of extra bedrooms or living space, but Dodonus' house was already strange, so that would be right in line with Ford's expectations, really. Having a whole space dedicated to astronomy probably wasn't any more strange than having a potion workshop, which the Greengrass house had, except that Noble actually needed a workshop, because he made his living off of potions. Dodonus made his living tricking Muggles out of their pocket change (or spent his time doing that, anyway; if he had a house like this he probably didn't need to make a living at all), so having an observatory upstairs seemed like an unnecessary extravagance, to say the least.

"What do you do with it?" he asked, tilting his head with curiosity. "Is it just for stargazing?"


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"Not just for stargazing. Sometimes I read there or tinker with my inventions. Or I sleep there if I feel like I want to sleep within the stars," Tycho said. "Would you like to see it now or after dinner? I'd be happy to give a tour." His Astronomy attic was so named because it was spelled to reflect the night sky upon his walls, ceiling and floor of his attic. It wasn't perfect yet but it was a delightful bit of beautiful night sky. "I can show you an aurora borealis."



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Ford had only taken Astronomy up through OWLs, and he hadn't even scored particularly well in it (though he had by no means failed, either). Given that, the idea of seeing an aurora borealis casually just before dinner was a little mind-blowing for him.

"You can?" he asked eagerly, already rising from his chair. "Yes, I'd love to see that. I've never seen one before. How do you see them from all the way down here? I thought they only showed up at the North Pole, or something."


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