Welcome to Charming
Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1891. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

Featured Stamp

Add it to your collection...

Did You Know?
During the Victorian era, knitting became a staple of a well-bred woman. Queen Victoria is even reported to have been a fan of knitting herself. It was during this time that knitting wasn’t just restricted to plain yarn fabrics, but changed to involve bead and lace knitting. — Fallin
Yuri didn't know what being a steamed patron was but it sounded like it might be painful.
Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

This has nothing to do with you; it's me versus me
November 24th, 1891 - Irvingly Arms
The Irvingly Arms was on an extremely short list of places in Irvingly that Arthur was able to go to; most of the square was out, as he had to avoid the casino, and other than the Howlers pitch and Ben's house, there wasn't much else going on. But he'd wanted to make this as easy on Ben as possible. Especially because Arthur wasn't sure how to begin to describe today's crisis — (which had actually happened the night before) — it was embarrassing.

It was especially embarrassing because his marriage was on the track to being better. (As long as one ignored the existence of Emrys Selwyn, which Art ignored whenever he was thinking about his wife.) And now this? He didn't know how to explain it to Desdemona, let alone to Ben, and drinking after practice seemed the only solution.

There was something nervous about his energy, a twitchy call-to-motion that he couldn't quite get rid of, but other than that there wasn't anything unusual about the way he was carrying himself.

Art had been at the Arms for a quarter-hour, and was halfway to buzzed by the time Ben got there. He was seated at a booth and rose his pint glass in Ben's direction when he saw him enter.

@Reuben Crouch

[Image: AAgFt3c.png]
set by MJ <3
There was a time in his life when Ben would have thought absolutely nothing of a last-minute summons on vague (or rather, nonexistent) premises. When he was twenty-five he would have assumed that whatever was going on, it would be a fun time. He probably would have cleared his schedule for the following morning as a precaution, anticipating a hangover. These days, however, last minute plans seldom turned out to be much fun. Anything that came up with less than a day's notice had to be urgent. They were adults now, with adult responsibilities, and people who would miss them if they canceled plans, so things like this didn't happen lightly. If it was urgent, it was not a far cry to imagine it was an emergency.

He's gambling again, Ben had guessed as he went through his daily routine at work. He had a big fight with Desdemona and she kicked him out. He had a fight with Desdemona and she left. Something terrible happened to his mother. Something terrible happened to Gwenog. The list of possible things that could have been behind the letter was endless. None of them were good. At least there was nothing in the Prophet about it, whatever it was.

Ben told Melody the vaguest possible outline of where he was going when he left — dinner with a friend — both because she still didn't like or trust Art, and because if she'd asked for any details he wouldn't have known what to say. Consequentially he felt almost like he was a teenager sneaking out of the house when he walked into the Irvingly Arms. He shot Art a brief smile when he spotted him and bought a drink before making his way to the table.

He looked good, at least compared to the worst-case scenarios Ben had been expecting. He looked fine. Hopefully that was a good sign. Ben dropped into the empty seat across the table and propped one arm along the back of the booth. "How long have you been here?"
Art wished he'd spent any of his day trying to figure out how to explain this, practically. The trouble was, he knew exactly how to explain the mechanics of it. It was just deeply embarrassing, especially since he hadn't been drunk for the incident. Somehow, this was more embarrassing than the gambling, even if he'd acted on it first — at least he'd expected that.

He flashed his typical grin at Ben. "Just twenty minutes or so," Art said, "I headed over after practice wrapped." He was going to have to figure this out, as he'd drug Ben here with practically no warning, and they were far too old for that. He was going to have to manage it first, though.

[Image: AAgFt3c.png]
set by MJ <3

View a Printable Version

Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)
Forum Jump: