1x1 CLOSED Palm Constellations and Antimatter Wine (NemoPav)


Emilie Riebau | 20 | Commoner


The instant Eloise recognized Emilie, she turned the encounter from terribly awkward to utterly surreal. "Fate," she said, pointing at Emilie like an Oracle revealing an omen. She hurried over to make an introduction to the young man with a disturbing degree of eagerness.

"Radiating?" Emilie stammered. Her mind flashed to some of her efforts at improving the efficiency and power of the Sterling Air Engine. Thus far, she had found that increasing the temperature gradient between the heated cylinder and ambient air improved efficiency and power output, but her efforts to raise the concentration of heat on the working fluid while maintaining the temperature gradient had thus far proven unsuccessful. The fact that there was as yet no proper theory on how heat actually worked did not help. It seemed to radiate away from concentrated sources, making it extremely difficult if not impossible to focus effectively, while spreading in ways that made the temperature gradient challenging to maintain as more heat was added to the system. But of course Eloise could not possibly be talking about that.

She went on to postulate that Emilie was a rival to her brother, and comment cryptically about her gown being blue, twice. What? Is there some preposterous rule against blue gowns-- Emilie thought, cut short by the way the young man was looking at her as if she'd just descended from Heaven on a ray of light to the celestial music of an angelic choir.

Which made absolutely no sense. He had not attended any of the Professor's exhibitions, of that Emilie was sure. Even if he had, it was not as if her role covered her in extraordinary fame or wealth. She sincerely doubted he could even have known of her existence before this moment.

"Not a rival Miss Eloise, our interests are orthogonal," Emilie said hastily, then fumbled her way through a curtsy in return for Mr. Vielfaure's bow. "It's a...a...pleasure to meet you," she lied (the meeting was far too strange to count as 'pleasant')...Mister--Vielfaure," she said, her voice adding rather too much 'Aha!' as the familiar name clicked once pronounced correctly. "Might you be related to a Léona Vielfaure? A patroness of the Roosevelt School for All Children? Wineries?" she said, inwardly kicking herself for her complete lack of eloquence.
 
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


Orthogonal? Eloise had no idea what that word meant, but she often had no clue whatsoever of the things Miss Riebau and her brother discussed, her mind much too prone to wander as she pursed her lips, eyes flitting between Leon and Miss Riebau.

“I hear you already scouted out the other party!” Eloise chimed up, glad to hear something she did know about as she slapped her fan into her other hand, glad to know there was some sort of establishment between the two. “I must say that mister Vielfaure is a much wiser choice than my brother, though I haven’t seen him on the dancefloor,” she continued, her eyebrows rising and lifting in an encouraging smile directed towards Leon.

“Despite that,” Eloise continued as she turned towards Miss Riebau in a grave manner, “I must admit that the idea of you as my sister appealed to me greatly.”

Had any of her siblings been around, or her mother, Eloise could have expected a scolding of a lifetime right here and then, which was the misfortune of the two the youngest Wellington had trapped in her little web.
 
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Before that evening, he wasn't even sure that he'd ever even caught wind of someone with the name of Emilie Riebau before, but the lady's stammering and clumsy curtsy matching his own introduction and bow was making Léo's heart hammer wildly in his chest. Was she shy in the face of love, like he was? Was she as overwhelmed by Eloise imposing her own pace on the world around her as he was? Was the frustration of wandering through society, plagued by unrequited love and difficulty finding the perfect match, ailing her as much as it did him? The thought made his chest ache. He had not a single idea what orthogonal was supposed to mean and his nervous, faltering but partially hopefully smile turned his lips into a wobbly curve.

Still, he blinked, half-surprised when Emilie brought up his mother, with perfect pronunciation. "You know my mother?" he seemed quite shocked, especially since his mother wasn't too fond of socializing with other women, or rather, she didn't like speaking of it often, anyway. Whenever people greeted them in public or whenever she brought up others, they were always men. She never kept it a secret from him that she was focused on pursuing a second husband, much to his chagrin. "Ah, er, yes. It is her preferred charitable institution. When she is not assisting me with managing the wineries, she often visits. ... Are you a student there?"

That would explain the vocabulary. He looked embarrassed by Eloise's mention of him on the dancefloor. He was a practiced dancer, sort of, but he did step on a toe or two every now and again from the power of frazzled nerves alone. Still, he was happy that Eloise had properly said his name for once, seemingly mimicking Miss Riebau. "I am of modest talent when it comes to dancing." he said truthfully, though he did deflate slightly when the younger woman brought up Emilie potentially being her sister. Was Miss Riebau already being courted by a Wellington, then?

He could not find a way to ask politely.
 

Emilie Riebau | 20 | Commoner


'Scouting out the other party?' 'Better choice?' Is he an inventor as well? Emilie thought, unable to make sense of Eloise's words until she mentioned the dancefloor. Before she even had a chance to properly freeze in terror, Eloise went and threw her for another loop. If there was any truth to her words about wanting Emilie for a sister, it was...rather sweet, making it impossible to be irritated with the girl for playing matchmaker.

His mother? Maybe it was the way the lady's clothes seemed to emphasize her eligibility, but Emilie had not thought of Miss Vielfaure as being old enough to be the mother of a grown man, yet here he was. Is he...interested...in me? she wondered. Except, his reactions did not seem to make sense in that context. He did not exude the suave confidence of a rake sure of his ability to overawe a commoner girl with his status and wealth and win a dalliance, or of a gentleman out to fetch someone to smile prettily and churn out heirs while busying herself with embroidery and some pleasant musical instrument like the piano, violin, or harp.

Emilie's mind seized on a strategy that had worked fairly well for her in the past: for many men, simple honesty showed that she was not particularly suitable for either function, and least of all for the purpose of making a man feel comfortable in his intellectual superiority.

"Er, no," Emilie replied, trying not to blush, and failing. "More like...a kind of teacher? I put on an exhibition of scientific discovery and invention for the students there, and I've offered to assist with the school's curriculum in the realm of the sciences." As she spoke, she gradually became more at ease as her passion and determination kicked in. "I am assistant to Professor William Dalrymple of the Royal Society in his pursuit of natural philosophy and invention, but I am also seeking to advance inventions of my own, with the ultimate aim of lifting the burden of toil from the shoulders of humanity, so that all might have the opportunity to cultivate their higher faculties and aspirations
."

By this time her eyes were alight with visions of a world of machines and automata in service to a humanity at peace with itself and the natural world, set free to explore its boundless potential. But as she finished, the wave of intensity passed, and she had to brace herself for an adverse reaction from Mr. Vielfaure, and whatever mischief Miss Eloise might spawn.
 
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


Eloise was by no means uneducated nor a fool, but Emmy (as Eloise had decided to call her from now on) had the type of effect on Eloise that made her mind lock up and filter. Much in the same way as Eloise listened to her mother and to her siblings.

“Emmy is such an ambitious young lady,” the girl had exclaimed, speaking as if she wasn’t younger than the scientist herself, “truly one of a kind and, I feel, a great investment for any man with a nose for business.”

When a plate of wine came to pass, carried by a particularly dashing waiter, Eloise was quick to call the man to a halt as she passed each member in her company a glass, another idea brewing as she eyed the awkward gentleman that tried to process everything.

“Mister Vielfaure does good business in the winery, maybe you can assist him in pressing the best wines with your inventions, Emmy?” came the encouragement and hopefully opening needed for fate to work its way.
 
More than a student, Emilie was a teacher. It wasn't unheard of, but it was certainly new information to Léo, who had only seen male instructors for all of his schooling. He'd heard of educators that were women when it came to the typical "women's" hobbies, but the sciences? There was no contempt or disgust on his face, but he blinked, staring at the pretty face in front of him while he processed this information. She certainly spoke like she was well-educated. He wondered why his mother had never mentioned her, since she was awfully fond of young female go-getters, seeming to feel a certain kinship with them, but then he remembered how territorial she could be when others encroached on her space. Perhaps Emilie was more of a rival than a kindred soul.

The lull in his responses would probably be taken negatively though. He cleared his throat, clearly thrown off by his train of thought, but he managed a response, "That is... Quite incredible. I can't say that I remember what I've heard of a Professor Dalrymple, but that is a noble aspiration, Miss Emilie." Eloise seemed to do nothing but sing of this woman's praises, even going as far as to suggest that she assist him with her inventions in order to contribute to his business.

Léo felt flustered, not wanting to ask for someone's aid on first meeting, especially when it was a lady that he potentially wanted to impress, but he tried to twist it back to something more acceptable in his head. It was for business, right? There was nothing improper about such a proposal! "You are acquainted with the wine-making process...?" he questioned hesitantly, eyes careful and nervous, "I would not snub the opportunity to improve the Vielfaure products."
 

Emilie Riebau | 20 | Commoner


Mr. Vielfaure gave a blink of surprise and seemed at a loss for words. Emilie had girded herself for a scoff, a sneer of contempt, or a comment along the lines of "And my horse fancies himself to be a philosopher," so the young man's more cryptic response left her to wonder what he truly thought.

Eloise intervened before the awkward silence could stretch too long, by procuring glasses of wine for the trio, and offering a new proposal for the application of 'Emmy's' abilities. Again, paradox. Women's beauty products, and now winemaking?! I will not be constrained to creating useless fripperies for the aristocracy! she thought. Yet, it was hard to be cross with the mischievous girl. No one had ever given her a nickname before. The prospect that she might actually be able to have the Wellington girl and her sisters as friends, exchange nicknames with them, even roughhouse and tease with the assurance that nothing would be meant or misconstrued as cruelty...an enticingly exotic foreign country seemingly offering an invitation to visit.

Before she could try to parse whether or not Eloise truly meant such things, Mr. Vielfaure stammered out a reply. Emilie couldn't read his expression well enough to pick out any subtexts. Yet, he 'would not snub' the notion of a female inventor...

He probably gets the same sort of nonsense when it comes to the idea of a man of African descent being able to run a winery, she thought. It was Emilie's turn to blink in surprise. Could I have...something in common...with him?

"Uh...well, I know next to nothing about the wine-making process," Emilie replied. "I have made some study of fermentation processes with an eye toward producing fuels from kelp or agricultural waste products, but I doubt there is much in common between that and what you do as a vintner." On the other hand, it's possible that 'This wine was made by machines!' could become a fad among the wealthy if snail-slime facial cream could, especially if we jolted it with electricity, she thought, but decided to keep that idea to herself.

"Most of my work centers on the creation of machines to reduce the amount of hazardous and back-breaking labor in the world. If you would allow me a visit to your wineries accompanied by Professor Dalrymple or his wife, we might be able to find ways to improve your production processes. Lady Dalrymple has made considerable studies in agricultural matters, such as methods of improving the health and fertility of soil, extending the growing season for crops on her lands in Scotland, and increasing the productivity by planting multiple crops on the same land in the manner of a natural forest.

"To my admittedly limited knowledge, wine grapes grow best in warmer climates like France or Greece rather than our blustery little island. Some of the methods she and the Professor developed might well be applicable to your needs, and I could see if any of the machines the Professor and I have developed could increase the efficiency and safety of the work.

"However, I would have to stipulate by contract that should we find mechanical methods to improve the lot of your laborers, that you would not use it as an opportunity to cast some of them out and extract more value from the remainder. It is of great importance to me, and I believe, to the progress of civilization as a whole, that science and technology be applied to the elevation of the working classes to increased prosperity and opportunity for personal development." Though Emilie knew this last risked alienating Mr. Vielfaure, there was at least some chance he might be favorable, given the treatment people of his race usually received at the hands of the great European empires.
 

Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


From the limited exposure to Léo's facial expressions Eloise had, she couldn’t quite make out what the man was thinking when introducing Emilie. She could, however, tell what Emmy was thinking, having much experience in reading the feminine countenance.

“Emmy, you forget the south!” the young debutante piped up, “it are the warm water streams there that allows for many exotics to grow, my brother told me precisely so, even promised to take me down to Kent!”

Now Frederick made a great many promises, half of which he hadn’t made good on yet, but Eloise wasn’t about to fuss over it. It wasn’t easy to be the second son of impoverished nobility.

“I could ask if you could come with me whenever Fred goes?” Eloise thus offered, “same for mister Vielfaure,” she continued within one smooth breath, though she presumed the young man had a vineyard or two in the south of the country. After all, why else be a winemaker on this island?

“How delightful it would be if we could all go together!”