1x1 CLOSED Palm Constellations and Antimatter Wine (NemoPav)

PavellumPendulum

oh, to be seen as the poet, not just the muse
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Romance, modern, comedy, post-apocalyptic, slice of life.
He wouldn't say that he'd ever been particularly lucky.

Perhaps Léo could be considered as such, since he'd stumbled into his fortune. It wasn't as though the money had every single eligible maiden breaking down his door and begging for his attention, but he was well off enough to be able to enjoy most days of his life without worrying about making ends meet. He had a wonderful, intelligent mother who was still living and well, despite all the migraines that she gave him, so perhaps he truly was lucky at all? It was hard to really make a full call himself though, considering how it was his third year having moved away from France and still, he had yet to secure a proper wife for himself. He knew that Léona was waiting on him to make something of himself and though she never berated him aloud, he could see the look in her eyes every time he returned from a social gathering with nary an interesting story to tell.

See, he was a bit of a romantic! It was hard to find a likeminded soul, someone who he fell for instantly, like a prince in a fairytale. He'd been hit by le coup de foudre time and time again here, but never had it once panned out. Sure, perhaps some ladies had found him cute, but none of them could replicate his earnest passion, his desire for something stronger than just a marriage license... He was beginning to think that perhaps his standards were a bit high, seeing others be paired off, but the idea of settling for something less than true love honestly made him feel a bit queasy.

And so, the unlucky man found himself stumbling across the brunette girl, a newer face, holding out older women's palms and tracing out their lines with a certain studious intensity, as though the secrets of the world were hidden in them alone. Madam Browning and her powdered peers cooed and gawked at their fortunes, pestering the girl for more details at every other moment. Léo blinked. He had never seen such an art before, nor had he ever studied anything similar. Madam Browning caught sight of him staring and he felt his face flush with embarrassment, knowing that he probably looked ridiculous, like a child being left out of the playground games, just standing there like that. She gestured for him to come over.

"Oh, we absolutely must know what Mr. Vilfor's palms say, Miss Eloise. You two absolutely must be acquainted." she cooed. Léo felt himself wince. The Vielfaure name had never sat well on most of the English's tongues.

Approaching sheepishly, he offered Miss Eloise a polite nod of the head and a smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss. What sort of fortune telling is this?"

@Nemopedia
 
  • According to Plan
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


The season of new beginnings started with a banger for Eloise. Not only did spring allow the youngest Wellington to jump into the pond of socialites into which her siblings had been rotating for years, Eloise had also taken it as a cue to spice things a little up, that after finding herself dreadfully bored at the debutante party with all of the dances and fluttering eyes. The attention of a certain madam that had, at first, turned her nose up at the teenager, now being the entry point of her soaring popularity after a well-placed and well-aimed remark.

Mr ‘Vilfor’ as her newest victim was named was another such entry, a tall dark young man who seemed to feel a little out of place in the crowd. Not in the same way any of her siblings stood out in the crowd, for they stood out because of little idiosyncrasies in their characters, but because of the sheer lack of self-confidence that he exuded, that also included not correcting mrs. Browning in the butchered pronunciation of his name. A classic act from an unclassy lady, Eloise thought to herself in triumph; for to be so bad at French certainly spoke of her rank, just as much as she had snubbed Eloise before she was of any entertainment.

“A most fortunate meeting indeed, for you direly need it,” Eloise exclaimed, extending her hand to the man with a little curtsy as she repeated what she had been saying the whole night already. That the ladies lacked a good fortune for a match tonight, but that, with a little bit of extra rouge on their already ridiculously red apples, would catch them a match the next while, or to consider avoiding green the next time. It was the same sort of quack her brother Frederick sold, though done in a more innocuous manner, for who didn’t enjoy a dabble into the mystical reading of the fortune?

“I don’t dare to claim to be an expert, but I happen to know a bit of palmistry,” the debutante started with a mischievous glint in her eyes, seemingly holding no reservation whatsoever to share her little scheme to the crowd that hung onto the edge of her lips, “an art in which I read the lines of your hand to reveal your virtues and vices, especially in regards to love!” The claim was eagerly supported by mrs. Browning and the rest of the ladies that had gathered themselves around Eloise for the while, fans fanning so wildly that a little draft could be felt while excited voices mixed as each tried to share their experience;

“I have told mama so that red will ruin me and miss Eloise has called it!” a lady with red painted cheeks exclaimed, followed by another who found her experience all the more revealing for Eloise had apparently correctly assumed and predicted that in the next dance a gentleman would step on her toes. The fact that Eloise had heard of mr-wooden-toes with the snot-stained-cravat through her older sisters was left unmentioned and unknown, as Eloise turned to mr. Vielfaure with a sunny smile, already feeling confident on what to tell this young male with his sunken confidence.

“Would you dare to try, mr. Fellfour?” Eloise challenged, purposefully butchering the already mispronounced name as if trying to trigger the man to correct the both of them.
 
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Ever the naive one, Léo found it difficult to not be hooked the moment Eloise gazed upon him with such knowing eyes, as if despite the visible gap in their ages, she was both wiser and had savoured more of life's experiences than he could ever imagine. She curtsied and he bowed in return, the same song and dance as every other introduction that evening, though there was a certain magic in her eyes that he could see, he was certain, when hearing her speak of palmistry. He clenched his hands into fists briefly, a twitch without any thought, at her mentioning how the seemingly innocent lines could tell her of ones vices and virtues so easily... Being self-conscious had once been his hobby but now it was his most visited pastime, growing even stronger when he thought that everyone around him could read his every thought.

What would she find in his palms that he did not already know? That he was an embarrassment to his mother? That he was the direct personification of a timid mouse? That his lack of decent blood would repel any good standing lady and lord in the area? He cleared his throat nervously, but the hesitant interest was visible in his dark eyes.

"That is quite the bold claim... You must be very well-versed in this art." he laid out the compliment carefully, listening to the other ladies around her coo about their own experiences, clearly willing to believe anything that came out of miss Eloise's mouth. That was understandable, since he was now being blown away by the wave of this support, his mind always wanting to attach itself to the crowd's favour and be liked. He was not sure if Eloise had a certain natural charm or charisma, but he found himself nodding despite the slight wince in his expression at her complete butchering of his name.

"Ah..." he cleared his throat, trying to summon the courage to say his own name for them, but ultimately failing, extending his hand to her, "I would love to. Is... Is this enough?" His eyes flicked from his open palm to her eyes.

The ladies surrounding them leaned in a little closer to gawk and stare as if they understood what was happening, entranced.
 
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


Eloise was, whilst young of age, aware of one fact in life and that was that anything done in confidence always gained admiration. Any claim made in confidence was taken as fact, no matter how wrong or absurd and confidence stood equal to charm. It was how her brother Frederick made his farce of a business work and how she was about to convince this mr. Vielfaure, who hadn’t even bothered to correct her, to empty his pockets if she so willed before flashing him a wide smile.

“We shan’t know without trying, nay?” Eloise says, mimicking those gypsy accents she only reads about in the scandalous papers she steals from her older siblings, before peeking over into the palm of his hand with certain faked interest.

“Ooh,” the immediate reaction earned a gasp from the ladies surrounding her, for an ‘ooh’ accompanied with that expression within Eloise’s bright eyes was never anything good in their experience, before the missus popped an ‘ahah!’ after it that apparently earned even more shock and suspense from the crowd that created most of the tension that was descending upon them.

“Oh, please miss Eloise, what does his hand say?” one of the ladies begs her, shaking her arm roughly as Eloise wonders what sound she should make to make the lady stop that foolishness.

“A lot,” she finally announces, leaning back from the hand with a deep sigh, as if disturbed as she places a hand over her own heart, “so much even, I’m afraid I will need to speak to mister Fellfour alone,” she solemnly declares, exciting the group even more as they begged and tried to negotiate to stay, to which Eloise remained adamant as she turns to the man himself whose name she still intentionally mispronounced.

“This is Fellfour’s fate to decide upon, so the decision I will leave to him,” Eloise concludes, her voice so grave and serious that it truly seemed that the decision to share his fate with the crowd truly was going to change the entire course of his life.
 
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It was enough.

Miss Eloise took his hand with such care, with such a watchful eye despite her young age and Léo swore that perhaps, for a second there, he could see his own future in his words, fate suddenly becoming tangible and warm to the touch. He'd always believed in magic, in true love and other myths that some would scoff at, but maybe Miss Eloise was a real savant, someone who could actually guide him... His lovesick heart sung at the idea of being given some sort of direction, a chorus of inner voices cheering and wishing upon a star for a miracle to come of this interaction. He was growing sweaty now under the spotlight, seeing the ladies ooh and ahh, their eyes excitedly shifting between him and Eloise, over and over again.

How long did it take for one's fortunes to be laid bare? He felt like he was going under the knife, divulging secrets about himself without even meaning to. The sigh that the young Miss finally made when she let go of his hand made Léopoldine's eyes widen however, his face showing how fearful he was without a lick of awareness or even an attempt to hide it. No, the fact that she was so disappointed in the path that the world had chosen for him... Had he done something wrong? Had he done everything wrong?

He cleared his throat nervously, seeing all eyes on him now, as Miss Eloise let him decide. What else was there to say? He couldn't just return to the soirée and pretend that none of this had happened! He needed to know what would become of him and if possible, what he could do to avoid whatever terrible fate she had seen, in order to secure himself a happy life. Despite the complaints of the older ladies, he nodded with conviction, "My apologies. This is a matter of grave importance." he told them, surprisingly unwilling to budge even as they continued to whine, until eventually, they accepted that the conversation would have to be had in secrecy. Even so, the women skittered away with whispers on their lips, peeking back every few moments as if to just get a final glimpse in.

"Miss Eloise, I'd like to thank you for your guidance in advance. I've been feeling quite lost as of late... Perhaps fate itself knew that I was in need of someone who could interpret its puzzling intentions for me." he said in a very genuine manner, attention solely fixed on the younger woman.
 
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


Eloise, baby of the family, though taller than some of her siblings, never had figured her entry into society would go this smooth. The ladies loved her witty charm and confidence and now this young gentleman was eating out of the palm of her hand, believing her every word as she gravely had declared his misfortune. The absolute sweet soul!

Now, where Eloise was a goblin of mischief according to her mother she wasn’t without heart. How could she allow someone so innocent and so genuine to roam around alone? She wasn’t her brother Frederick who had no qualms in taking the money of those well-to-do and good-believers. In that regard Eloise was more like her sister Melinda, instilled with a strong sense of justice and a need to protect. Her pranks and her mischief, while all in good fun, were meant to be kept as such, not to do damage, and thus the little missus decided upon herself to make sure no such damage would come to the man without impairing her own fun.

“You have done right in seeking me, friend!” Eloise was quick to declare, raising from her chair with such a little hop as she found herself shoulder to shoulder with Leon, “I will be your compass, your guiding line down this room of frocks and curled hair, the reader of those fine feminine eyes that turn your way,” she continued conspiratorially, the fan in her hand snapping shut as she pointed into the ballroom, where the majority could be found.

“But!” and here she rose her fan up into the air, above both their heads before tapping Leon on the shoulder with it, “I will need your complete trust and honesty for this to work, however,” Eloise warns Leon, an impertinent look on her face before she snapped open her fan, waving for the man to follow her as she confidently walked into the direction of the ballroom.
 
She had popped up from her chair in a manner that showed off both gusto and elegance, something that made Léo swallow the lump in his throat in awe. How could someone so obviously younger than him be so experienced, so light on her feet after knowing the whims of the universe, the strings of fate themselves? He found himself being envious of her in that moment. He could barely decide which overcoat to wear in the mornings. Some days were easier than others, but there were still days in which he nearly had a stomach ache, thinking of all the important choices he would need to make in the coming hours.

He followed her like a lost puppy, eyes genuinely entranced by her every move, as if even those would reveal some of the secrets of the world, watching her fan slide shut and her steps breeze them towards the ballroom, where the thick of the guests were situated. His eyes even widened to saucers when she reached up and tapped him with the edge of her fan, alerting him of how essential it was that he provide her with his complete trust and honesty. Forgetting himself in that moment and wanting nothing more than to please her, he nodded with extreme enthusiasm, swallowing thickly once more.

"Yes, Miss Eloise." His tone was as polite as someone eager to please could be as they entered the ballroom, the sound of music and chatter floating through the air. It was louder here, since there were far more than just a few gossipy middle aged women and a fortune teller. His eyes grazed over the crowd, from the perfumed dancers to the neatly laundered waistcoats, before settling back on Eloise expectantly. "Are we searching for someone?"
 

Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


“Not someone!” Eloise announced, her fan waving in those small fine movements she had been taught as she shamelessly turned her eyes around the ballroom, lips curling up as she stared and stared, making her selection, “it is something and that something is called,” she said, continuing to wave around her fan as she pointed into the direction of a lady so impertinently the lady herself actual turned her eyes into their direction, eyes wide in surprise and mostly in shock.

“Fate,” came Eloise’s triumphant end to the long paused answer before she nudged Léon with her, her feet skipping a beat as she bravely crossed the dancefloor even on the beat of the music, only needing one single pardon to skip her way across as she stood at the other side where she met with the lady she had pointed out earlier who was still in shock as the debutante turned around to see if her charge had followed.

“Hmm, maybe not,” she mused upon closer inspection, but mostly because somehow crossing a ballroom in the midst of a dance was a lot harder than Eloise had ever experienced before.
 
Léo wondered if this was somehow against the rules. Truthfully, he always felt like he was breaking some unspoken rule in life, stumbling over things that everyone else seemed to find natural and instinctive. Was it wrong of him to seek the help of someone like Miss Eloise to guide him, was it somehow cheating with the hand he had been assigned in life? He desperately tried not to get lost in his thoughts when the young lady began to scour the crowd from afar, nearly jumping out of his skin when she pointed directly at another woman. The sudden attention, the outward shock on the woman's powdered face at being singled out from the crowd, made Léo feel like retreating into himself, suddenly feeling like perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.

And yet, Eloise marched on forward, parting the crowd around her with relative ease. Léo stumbled behind her, anxiously bumping into a shoulder or two and giving his most anxious apologies. Her confidence had him both awestruck and queasy to the stomach, nervous that their search for fate was causing problems for the others around them.

The woman Eloise had found, was she... Was she his fated one? She certainly was pretty, with her delicately pinned honey blonde hair and soft, sweet features. Even in her shock, she was beautiful, perhaps even bashful under both his and Eloise's gazes (she certainly was more appalled by the lack of manners, but Léo couldn't see that, with his suggestible, rose-coloured goggles). "Apologies, miss, I was s-simply-" he started, a compliment on the tip of his tongue, but his companion suddenly pulled away, stating that this woman was not, in fact, the one.

The words died on Léo's tongue, the faint alarm and disgust on the woman's face suddenly visible to him. Oh. ... Alright, perhaps she wasn't the one. He deflated visibly, remembering now that both he and Eloise were probably now in the way of the others in the crowd.

Turning back to Eloise, he gestured away from the lady, stepping away due to him wanting to put some space between them. Mostly out of embarrassment. "Er... What exactly does fate look like, Miss Eloise?"
 
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


A moment of silence and then a decisive, “blue!” rang out in answer from Eloise as she ignored the flabbergasted lady and pulled away, stepping into the crowd once more as her fan fell in and out of her other hand with impatience.

“Maybe tonight isn’t such a good night for you,” Eloise continued with pursed lips, and in that statement she really knew that she was being selfish, relishing in the attention given by the young man in which he seemed to hang onto her every word. Not wanting to part with that influence yet, and also in the desperate need to find a new friend, Eloise thus spurned her next story.

“I think I ought to know you better before I can see fate,” the female spoke, suddenly turning around in her delicate white debutante dress and tall figure, “likes, dislikes, maybe your annual income?” she loftily continued, opening her fan once more to fan herself, “we wouldn’t want anyone abuse you, right?” she declared. A hypocritical statement, truly.
 
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Blue. Blue! How could he have not seen it before? Léo marvelled at her knowledge, wracking his mind for any memories that held the colour blue. That woman had not a single streak of blue on her and thinking on it now, perhaps none of his previous unrequited loves had been wearing blue either! (Perhaps. His brain was both empty and full in the current moment, far too engaged by every single little world Miss Eloise said to really remember all the details.) He nodded hurriedly at everything she told him, though he did look a bit forlorn at the mention of the night not being a good one for him. It was just his luck, to be going out of his way to see his dreams fulfilled so often, only to have them dashed after every single soirée.

"Oh... That is unfortunate, indeed." he murmured with a frown, his hands smoothing over his waistcoat nervously, noting that he himself was wearing blue. Maybe his fate was bound solely to himself for the evening.

Miss Eloise asked for more information about him, however and who was he to deny her that, when she was so dedicated to helping him out? Léo nodded, but first, he carefully weaved his way through the crowd, not wanting to bare his soul to just anyone around them. Off to the side of the room now, closer to where the musicians played, he waited for Miss Eloise to be positioned near him before speaking.

"I am not sure how well-acquainted you are with my family, Miss Eloise, but I own the Vielfaure Wineries." he explained, with not an ounce of haughtiness, only something closer to anxious pride. He divulged a few details on it all, as well as the considerable sum that was his annual income. Though it was not anything worth telling any nobility about, it was still nothing to scoff at, enough to live comfortably and keep him and his mother well above the poverty line and within arm's reach of the upper class.

"Er, as for my own preferences... Well, I quite enjoy French pastries. Particularly macarons and fraisiers." That touch of his French accent came out stronger then, envelopping his words rather than tinting them, "I also like wine... And studying languages, if that is anything of note. I am currently a student of the italian language."

He scratched his cheek. "Is that useful?"
 
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


Had Eloise heard of the Vielfaure Wineries? Had she? Most likely, any family wealthy enough was probably known by the Wellington matriarch, her mother, with her eagerness to marry off all of her daughters. Perhaps the man had even gotten a funny nickname from one of her sisters, depending on how long he had been out in society. Eyeing him once more Eloise judged that it couldn’t have been that long, meaning that he was younger than both Euphy and Mel, leaving only Penny, who definitely wouldn’t be interested.

“A sweet tooth, huh,” was all Eloise said when Léo finished, her lips pursing as she nodded decisively. “Maybe cut a little on that, ladies like their words sweetened,” she told the man, the actual motive behind the statement being that Eloise had a sweet tooth herself as a plate of sweets came to pass with only a single cake left. A cake she quickly claimed for herself, taking a bite without much of a thought or a delicate offer.

And then Eloise remembered something, her body freezing as she stopped so abruptly a lady who had been trying to move past them bumped into her, the wine in the lady’s glass spilling dangerously and staining the dress of the oncomer, fortunately sparing Eloise’s dress, but not the cake she was sampling.

A drop in her expression Eloise swiftly turned around in the crowd, into the direction of the banquet tables in the hopes to discard the cake there. “What is your mama expecting you to find?” Eloise asked in the meanwhile, ignoring the protests and lamentations coming from the lady that had bumped into her. Eloise wasn’t the one at fault here, or so she believed, and she had much more important business to attend to, like helping a man to a wife.

“Like my mama wants all of us to strike rich, which is silly, because we could have been rich if it wasn’t for mama,” Eloise followed up, so airily the scandal of the Wellington was shared.
 
Léo's fingers twitched. He half wished that he had brought a notebook so he could have taken some notes, since Miss Eloise seemed to be sharing some mighty useful information with him. So eligible women would not like to know that he partook in sweets? Or would at least prefer to have that information in moderation? He nodded, blinking as the young woman took a cake straight from the plate of a passing server. He could smell the fruit and the cream in it even from an arms length away, the scent alone making his mouth water enviously, but he held strong and remembered her words. He would not let her advice go to waste.

Still, it was hard to hide at least a little bit of the longing in his eyes, so he let them drift elsewhere, skimming over the other guests. It was difficult to do so while following after her though, after she so quickly turned on her heels, heading straight for the banquet tables. Thankfully, most of the food still there was savoury, meaning the temptation to eat instead of learn from his young mentor would not sway him as strongly.

When asked about what his mother would want though, Léo pursed his lips nervously. Truthfully, Léona seemed less interested in his marriage prospects these days, far more invested in her own. She'd told him that she trusted him to find a satisfactory match on his own, but he was not quite sure what that entailed anymore. "A lady with assets that would complement the winery. One from a good family, I would assume." he sounded out the words, though it seemed more like he was checking if Eloise approved than recalling from memory, "In truth, I care more for love than I care for business. If I am able to find a match that brings me happiness, that will be enough for me."

It was this naivety that Léona sometimes scolded him for, but he found it difficult to not speak his truth on the matter. As for Eloise's own story, he gave her an awkward, half-sympathetic look. He knew bits and pieces of the gossip in the city, but he had never been extremely involved in their propagation. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't quite remember what family Miss Eloise even hailed from. "Forgive me for asking, but I am not sure that I know who your mother is."
 

Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


“So none of my sisters, shame, mama is getting antsy,” Eloise had declared at the description Léo had given, her lips pursing again as she tried to fit Euphy, Mel and Penny to the man. A terrible idea, she found, wondering if she had to feel sorry for Léo for even heading into that direction. “Love is what my parents have quite a lot of and now we are with six, which is six too many to marry off at once,” came her follow-up, the phrase said so unblinkingly as it was scandalous that Eloise’s only fortune was that none had overheard her.

“Mrs. Wellington is my mama, which makes Mr. Wellington my papa, but I’m not a miss Wellington because I have three unmarried sisters above me,” Eloise finally answered Léo, nodding sagely as if the fact itself was something impressive, which, in a way, it was impressive to have quite so many unmarried children, for even the sons hadn’t managed yet.

“I don’t think we have the wealth needed, but love aplenty, depending on the type,” was her final remark, another sage nod following as she considered all of her sister’s different type of loving, none conventionally romantic.
 
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He wasn't even sure why he'd winced at Eloise telling him that none of her sisters were a clear fit. He hadn't even met the ladies, but perhaps, just the idea of another closed door, another few potential candidates disappearing before he'd even met them had him feeling a touch down. Léo nodded once more, humming quietly at her mention of having so many siblings. "Six?" he echoed pensively, "That is quite a lot... I'm afraid I don't know the feeling. I'm an only child." Though he knew his parents had tried for more children, none of the pregnancies had been viable, leaving him where he was now, inheriting all of his father's assets on his own, with only his mother by his side.

The Wellington family was one he'd heard of a few times, though it wasn't all good (but he wasn't about to bring that up with Miss Eloise here, what a social faux-pas that would be!) They had dwindling coffers, ones that most certainly would not withstand a lack of marriage between all of their children. Léo felt a twinge of sympathy pass through his expression.

"Ah, well... I hope your siblings will come across perfect matches soon. I understand the difficulty. Searching has brought me nothing but despair as of yet, but there is still tomorrow." he sighed wistfully, despite his attempt to look on the bright side, "And you, Miss Eloise? Are you searching as well, now? Or are you simply looking out for your sisters?"
 
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Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


“Pah,” the sound of puffed air escaping her came loudly, going entirely against the fine manners that ladies of her rank were taught from a young age. Eloise even set her hands on her hips as she rolled her eyes, as if the question bored her so immensely, which it did.

“Most certainly not, it are my brothers that should marry rich, not I. I’m a daughter, I only take,” Eloise scoffed, her nose up in the air as she turned to Leon, a brow raising as she wondered if it was him being a man that had him forget the grave injustice done against the opposite sex, or if it was his own unusual situation in regards to his inheritance that had him forget about the injustice of the female race. In any regards, the slight wrinkle that appeared on Eloise’s forehead actually suggested that she was quite as evenly tempered as her sister Melinda, though she did a better job at letting it go.

“And otherwise the family is quite lost without my impeccable matchmaking abilities. I shan’t marry too soon, or else my sisters will have to truly elope!”

Not that she didn’t expect at least two of them to do so anyway, which was already a majority.

"Maybe your mother could marry one of my brothers. She is rich," Eloise suggested, believing that to be an idea, "it would give you all the siblings you would want as well!" she continued, approving all the more of the idea at the thought that she would still be the youngest of them all. Although, given her earlier statement about marriage...

"You do plan to give her a dowry, do you?"
 
Her nearly uncouth reply to him made Léo's cheeks burn, made even more embarrassed by her tone. Alarmed, he looked anywhere but her face. In trying to avoid bringing up her family's reputation, he'd stepped on an entirely different landmine, boiling his psyche alive under her disapproving gaze. Perhaps he truly was too naive or clueless, but he did not quite understand what would be so wrong with her looking if she so wanted to! He did understand that marriage seldom worked within the lady's favour, but was love not enough? With his half pathetic, dreamy gaze set against Eloise's determined one, perhaps it was something they would just not agree on. He was far too used to his mother anyway; she took and took and took with not a single ounce of hesitation or disgust. She took pride in the power she had cultivated herself.

In comparison, Léo found himself floundering about and wondering what hand fate would deal him. He found himself wordless in those moments, but when Eloise suggested that his mother of all people, marry one of her brothers, he stood up pin straight, agitation visible in his eyes. "No." he said quite firmly, voice so harsh that it was foreign to him, a half beat before it all melted away, embarrassment coating his face.

"I apologize. Er, it is not to say that I am particularly against the idea of our families uniting, but, um... My mother is an acquired taste. She would eat your brothers alive. She will have a dowry when she inevitably remarries, but..." He drifted off, unsure of how to complete his sentence. He was certain that his mother would never listen to his wishes, how he wanted her to stop worrying about her future and to just live on the inheritance that he was more than willing to share with her, but this was not something he particularly wanted to share with Miss Eloise.

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Regardless. I must take my leave, Miss Eloise."

More like a mouse turning tail than an elegant gentleman, Léo gave the younger woman a slightly stiff nod, before hurrying away, fleeing the conversation before it took an even more abrasive turn.
 

Emilie Riebau | 20 | Commoner


Emilie truly did not want to be here. Especially now that the dreaded moment arrived in which the older gentlemen had played the game of pleasantries long enough and began to peel off to head for the drawing room to talk amongst themselves. "Are...you sure you will not require any further assistance, Professor?" she said.

"Wha? Erm..." he said, searching for words while Emilie tensed at the veiled smirks from the other men. "Oh, no dear, thank you," William said. "You...wouldn't want to waste the evening looking after an old man...why, there's a whole house full of delightful young people like yourself! Go on child, have fun!" he said, shooing her away with a gentle smile.

"The young lady seems quite attached..." one of the others said, arching an eyebrow.

"Young lady? Oh, Miss Emilie?" William said. "She's a...a fine assistant, the best anyone could ever ask for...quick mind..." His words trailed off as he was led away. Emilie looked for Maergarethe, and found her engrossed in conversation with a mixed group of somewhat eccentric-looking individuals; members of her Druid order. The last thing Emilie wanted to do was pull her away from that to put her through the boring rigamarole of arranging introductions, especially introductions to young men.

Emilie wore a blue gown that owed more to the Classical era than the fashions of the current day. It earned her some odd looks which she willfully ignored. It offered the benefit of coming all the way up to her neck and leaving only one arm bare; but it also meant she would likely have a more difficult time fading into the background and going unnoticed.

Then, out of the sea of unfamiliar faces, she spotted one she recognized: the youngest of the Wellington girls. After a moment of mentally casting about, the name came: Eloise. Feeling relief wash over her, she started heading toward the young lady. She was unaccompanied by any of her sisters, so perhaps they were all dancing. Emilie decided she could offer to 'bodyguard' her, so that the girl would not be seen as 'loose,' at least until some boy sought Miss Wellington out for a dance.

As she got closer however, she noticed too late that Eloise was in fact accompanied, by a young man. Before Emilie could even try to correct course and find her way to someplace inconspicuous, the gentleman abruptly turned around and headed right at her, moving swiftly. "Ah!" Emilie froze in her tracks in hopes of avoiding a collision. "Uh...uh..." she stammered, looking up at him with wide eyes.
 

Eloise Wellington
Female | 16 | miss


Had mama, on multiple occasions, admonished Eloise for her quick mouth and unfiltered mind? Yes, but it had never truly occurred to Eloise to stop, finding it rather hilarious to see the fine folk bite for air as they tried to find a measure against her. That it should happen to Leon, her poor unfortunate victim, was only a little bit of a shame, for it meant that she had to look for her next amusement.

That was, until a familiar cherub face popped up, dressed in blue and about to run into the very man that tried to escape her.

“Fate,” Eloise declared, a finger pointing into the direction of the female before rushing over to Miss Riebau, delighted to see a familiar face that she knew she could amuse herself with even more, “how delightful it is to see you, and how radiating you are! Mr. Vielfour,” Eloise started once more, mispronouncing Leon’s name on purpose once more, “meet Miss Riebau, I ought not introduce her, but I wish to do so nonetheless, dressed in blue and perhaps a rival of sorts for my brother,” she introduced the female, realising then that she had two brothers as she quickly corrected herself, “the second, my brother Fred-erick, the clumsy one,” she continued, nearly calling Frederick by his nickname rather by his proper christened one as Eloise flashed another smile.

“And all in blue!” she repeated once more, as if wanting to push special emphasis on the colour.
 
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It was just his luck to have Eloise zero in on him like a hawk at the next gathering he attended. The shame of their prior meeting had coated his tongue so heavily that he'd barely been able to say a single thing when she'd beelined straight for him, seemingly intent on speaking to him despite his nervous expression and fidgeting hands. Léo could feel sweat begin to bead up under his clothing, his entire body telling him that it was time to flee (politely, of course), so when he found his opening in the conversation to hastily make his retreat, he did so, spinning on his heels and moving to speed off in the opposite direction.

The crowd would've made it slightly harder for Miss Eloise to catch him. It should have, anyway, if it hadn't been for the minor catastrophe that unfolded before him when he skidded to a halt, nearly bumping into another partygoer. Léo blinked rapidly, heat rising to his face even faster, blurring his vision. The lady was much shorter than him, with a rounded face and soft features, clad in a beautiful shade of blue. He would have been able to appreciate her appearance better if he hadn't been in a panic, her own stammering doing nothing to soothe his nerves.

"A-Apologies, Miss. I meant you no harm or disrespect." he sputtered as quickly as he could muster it, but Eloise immediately launched into a speech, introducing him against his will to Miss Riebau. It was difficult to feel any sort of gratitude towards her in that moment, but all of his hesitations flew directly out the window when Eloise repeated it.

Blue.

He nearly choked on his spit, standing up pin straight and staring at Miss Riebau in awe. Suddenly, he was back at that evening when he had met Miss Eloise for the first time. His true love, fate itself, was linked to blue. And here this woman was, nearly bumping into him, clad completely in blue.

"... M-Miss Riebau." he breathed, before remembering himself and bowing, his full name leaving his lips rather than only his title in the moment. "I am... Léopoldine Vielfaure. A pleasure to meet you."

His voice was a touch quiet still as he stood up proper again, starstruck. Could Miss Riebau really be his fated love? It was difficult to remove his jaw from the floor.
 
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