Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
titsay
sheepfilms
blake kathryn
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
No title available
tannertan36
No title available
occasionally subtle
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
@theartofmadeline
No title available
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Fai_Ryy
EXPECTATIONS
No title available
gracie abrams
Cosimo Galluzzi
Sweet Seals For You, Always
ellievsbear
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from France
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from Vietnam
seen from Australia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
@elliottxcarlisle
(nicholas galitzine,) Goodness, [ Elliot Carlisle ] has arrived! [ HE ] is [ 32 ] , of the [ MAYFAIR ] [ CARLISLE’s ], and a [ MP FOR WESTMINSTER ], BELONGING TO THE GENTRY CLASS . They are [ RETURNED] to England and the season. This author has heard they are [ AMBITIOUS] but also [ VAIN ]. Accompanied by [ NO ONE ] , there is much talk of their arrival and accepting calls but be warned: I have heard they [ CAN BE VERY SELF INDULGENT ]! (Devin, 28, He/Him/His, EST, None)
It was not an unheard of proposal, granted most who used this method preferred for the man to remain a mystery but this way it would serve the princess well in all ways. Elliot was respected and political and so any future offspring would have such benefits, and then add her royal lineage to the mix, it would be quite an offering if all parties agreed. “I do not find disrespect in your words and if this were ever to work, honesty would be required as well as a full understanding of expectations. While the prime sits in the House of Lords, he is not royalty. Such things can be a hindrance for politics, more so when you consider no one of royalty can vote.” It would be too much for a man of Elliot’s ambition to ask, to sacrifice his career for a marriage neither of them would be suited for and the main fact remained, Elliot was not interested in a marriage with any woman. The man had every right to marry whoever he wanted, not his mother or the dowager queen and so the princess would not be moved from her refusal. “My offer is much like baking, I am without a vital ingredient and if or when I marry another of my same gender, I will have a child of my own blood but my future wife cannot facilitate this. You could if you deemed it so but let us speak plainly, if you agreed, what benefit would you require?”
Elliot listened and tried to follow along with the arguments that the Princess was making, and they did, in fact, make sense to him. She was doing this for his happiness and his well-being. Unfortunately, Elliot put his family and the demands that they had for him above his own wishes, perhaps to a point of limiting himself. After all, he had gone into the army instead of the navy, and that had ended with his being shot. He had doubted his independent streak, but still he supposed the Princess knew best in these matters.
However, when she asked if he were to agree, what benefits would he require, his mouth went dry. The idea of directly saying what he would want felt...wrong, perhaps demanding? Begging? Elliot had never set forth a list of things he would want in return for something, especially not from someone above him socially. Pausing for a moment before he swallowed, the Princess had asked plainly, and so he would answer in a similar manner.
"In this bargain, if it were to take place, I would....like something in return for my role in helping to increase the size of the royal family, and in this matter of something so personal and intimate for both of us, I would like perhaps, some title, an Earldom, perhaps. If this were to happen, of course, it gives my family the peerage they seek; it ensures you have children from a strong and healthy bloodline, and all parties are happy."
Bertie looked rather pleased at how Elliot's cheeks flushed even further because of his words. What a lovely shade of red is upon his cheeks. He turned around once he finished up. He walked over to him, in a very slow way, like he wasn't in any hurry. He wanted the other to watch him. No harm in wanting that.
"I would expect nothing less. I'm rather harder," He promised. He was unsure for a moment because he never really thought when he had punched someone- he just mimicked what he'd seen in fighting rings and threw a practice punch- it wasn't a perfect throw that a boxer gives- certainly a throw someone would do in a street fight. When you're trying to actually hurt someone… still oddly graceful though.
Elliot could not help but look... well, more like stare as Bertie walked over towards him. He took in every detail of the other. The way he carried himself, the way he moved, the details of his face, and how his clothing moved and clung to him. It was as if Elliot wanted to commit everything to memory. Blinking finally, tongue wetting his lips.
"You're....you're rather hard?" Shaking his head, a grin came to his face. "But of course you are; I imagine you'd be solid and strong too." He watched as Bertie made his move, nodding his head. "Not bad at all, a good starting point for anyone new to this. One of the most important things, though, is both having a solid stance and being graceful enough to move quickly to avoid a hit. Tell me, how good are you at anticipating the actions of others?"
Arthur walked through the fair, taking a look around at all the displays. There were a few entertainers about, showing off their neat tricks to the children. He remembered how much he had enjoyed that in his youth and always had wondered about them, but he would never reveal those secrets to his siblings (he almost did when he was upset or annoyed with them) but he knew better. He knew that he'd be introducing his son to these magic moments soon.
He kept on walking, now approaching the artists' area. There were a lot of onlookers gathered around, as the subjects of such paintings were of great interest. His interest piqued, and he took another look around. His eyes found something (or someone) of his own interest and he stopped in his tracks, moving slightly to the side to stay mostly out of view.
"You are a man of many talents, Mister Carlisle," he said looking Elliot right in the eye now. The younger man was looking at a painting of what looked to be a younger version of himself and Arthur was intrigued, his eyes giving the painting a quick study before moving to the man himself. "Any other specialities of yours we have not spoken of yet?"
When Elliot heard the voice, he instantly perked up, knowing who the voice belonged to. The King himself was apparently at the fair, something Elliot had not expected, let alone for him to be found amongst all the people, and least of all while looking at a painting of himself......that featured his naked rear. His ears started to go red as he was told that he was a man of many talents, quickly shaking his head. "I....I fear I am unsure what you mean, sir, I....I have done nothing to display any sort of talent. I was simply looking at the gathered artwork, and one of the pieces here caught my eye. Have any of the paintings caught your eye, Your Majesty?" He saw how Arthur looked over him, and then the painting, and then back to him. Unsure if Arthur was figuring out the truth that he was the muse of that painting in question. He grinned a little, feeling a blush on his face when Arthur asked if there were any other specialties that he had not yet shared.
"Perhaps, Your Majesty. But I fear I think I would like to hold onto them. Keep them a secret from you still. So not to seem like you were playing favorites with members of Parliament."
Closed starter for Elliot Carlisle & Grace Barnett @elliottxcarlisle Where: The Bartholomew Fair
It took everything in Grace's power not to roll her eyes as she stood and listened to the fortune teller beside her tent. A young, besotted couple sat before them, and the woman was laying it on thick, speaking of how wonderful their marriage would be, how they would surely face troubles, but overcome them all. To Grace, it was predictable, catering entirely to their obvious feelings.
"You will be bored of him in two years, when you could have been interesting forever," Grace whispered to herself under her breath.
When the fair had come to London Elliot knew that he was going to have to go and visit it for himself. Excited to see what curiosities and fun they sought to bring. He was actually quite impressed by it, and as he wandered about, he paused when he saw the tent of a fortune teller. In the army, he and his men had discussed higher mysteries, magical powers, the vast unknowns of the world. Elliot was educated, though, having studied at Cambridge. He saw himself as a man of logic, science, and rationality, and yet sometimes he had a childlike wonder of wanting to believe that some magic was real. That was when a voice spoke to him, pulling him from his focus on his thoughts around the sign, the fortune teller, and asking if he believed in the magic of the teller.
"Maybe I am, considering getting my fortune read. Remove a little mystery from my life. If such a power even exists." Dark magic, he supposed, or perhaps people truly gifted. Though he imagined that for someone to truly be gifted, they would be far and few between.
"An experiment? Tell me what are you thinking? Nothing that could potentially anger the magical forces of the fortune teller." Regardless if he believed or not, these were not the type of people Elliot would seek to cross. They were wanderers, and well.....what would stop them from seeking some type of vengeance if crossed.
Who: King Arthur Goodwin ( @mcstardently ) Where: The Barrtholomew Fair, The Artist's Escape
When Elliot heard there was a fair just outside of London he was naturally curious about it. It would also make a wonderful opportunity to meet with voters, and the people. To understand their thinking, see where their entertainment was coming from as of late. Well, all that and the fair would no doubt prove a wonderful escape from the affairs of state, and matters of Parliament.
He was currently walking through the rows of artists, admiring the paintings. Elliot enjoyed sitting for paintings, offering his visage, it was an escape he had always had even when he was in the army. So when he saw a few pieces of erotic art, he was not phased by it, having grown used to looking through galleries in between his own sessions. However, when he stopped at one stall, he did take pause. This....had been an artist he had sat for....he'd been twenty-three, as a gift to himself for reaching the rank of Lieutenant and well.....there he was face to face with a painting of himself.
Elliot was naked, save for a piece of silk material covering his front, but well.....just about everything else was visible to whoever gazed upon it. He supposed his one saving grace was, he was almost a full decade younger in the painting, more lithe, hair shorter, and not quite as muscular as he was now. Smiling, he was willing to admit it was a good piece of art, regardless of the fact it was of him
Elliot caught up in admiring and at looking over the painting of his own form did not realize that someone was approaching, and nearly jumped when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. Quickly he turned to face the person seeking his attention.
"My father... ruled for more than half of his life, or so I had presumed before any of my siblings and I had been born. I will admit, most of his life was a mystery to me," Arthur looked up at him. "He was present as a father and I watched him in my youth as he met with foreign diplomats and signed treaties..." he said. "But I fear I never really knew where he really came from," he admitted. His father had always told him about his future, but not so much focusing in the past, and Arthur still had many questions even as an adult, and now King.
He smiled again. "I have taken his responsibilities and questions that have come up in regards to past decisions and further lapses in judgement," Arthur said. "Mmm, I advise you be very careful though," he put up a finger with a short hum. "The ton is known to have prying eyes, even in the most uneventful of days," he said.
"We are again grateful for the strong support from your family. Did you have any questions for me in regards to any upcoming decisions? As what I can reveal, that is,"
"A feeling I can understand, your Majesty, more than you could probably imagine. His service often took my father quite far away, and when he joined the Admiralty while he was always close to home, work has consumed him. Even now. I suppose though that is the sacrifice our father's make in service to the nation, shrouding themselves in mystery while pushing the ideas of service, and duty onto us." Elliot let out a soft chuckle, "I wonder....did our father ever engage in conversation much like this. Or was it always focused on duty."
Elliot nodded his head, "I am sure all will be fine. Regarding everything. And I am here for you, your Majesty, however you may need me. I have sworn two oaths to you and your family now, and I will keep them....however it is expected of me." He lets out a laugh when he is told the ton is known to have prying eyes. "Let them pry then, I have nothing to hide. After taking a bullet, I fear very little frightens me anymore."
Shaking his head, "I would not want to be presumptuous and try to gain knowledge that is not yet ready to be shared. I am sure all I wish to know, will be shared when the time is right."
“I can see why you got elected.” It was a compliment and a joke all at once. Elliott spoke well. Oskar would vote for him, if he could vote.
He would have to convince the King to spend more time among the Lords while not in a gambling house. Not that Oskar could judge, given his own addictions. But they would have to have some sort of plan and they ought to have one soon. They needed more Lords on their side or in their debt.
“Well I can hardly blame you for preferring the company of the House of Commons.” Honestly Oskar preferred them as well. “You are, on a whole, much less high strung.”
"I appreciate that, Oskar." Elliot did not find it difficult relating to people, understanding them, empathizing with them. A skill he believed he picked up from the army. Or perhaps it was just ingrained in him, that desire to serve, to help where he could, do what he could. A smile pulled across his face when the House of Lords was called high strung, but he quickly returned to a neutral expression.
"Well I would never wish to speak ill of the House of Lords, they still hold the power of veto, and our good Prime Minister sits among them. I appreciate them for all of the work they do. But do not fear, I shall keep my eyes open, and try and get an understanding of how any new members feel amongst their ranks."
A deep roll of her eyes at Elliot's words, and Kitty scowled at him. "Do I look like I care about parliament?" She raised an eyebrow and scoffed as she scraped up the last bit of her ice cream with her spoon. Ugh, she really wanted more. "Anyone could become a member of parliament. I mean look, they let you in! Clearly it is no great accomplishment!" She really had no idea how any of that worked, but it wouldn't stop her from taking a jab at him. "Oh I know I do not know Tobias well. It is a carefully curated plan on my part."
Her smug smile instantly dropped at the mention of being banished. "Well it is a good thing this is only a hypothetical then, isn't it? Because if you kicked me out, that would mean my dear mama would be banished as well, yes? And you would not do that to two ladies." Her eyebrows furrowed innocently and she batted her eyelashes, as if to emphasize her point. His smile made her want to reach across the table and claw his face. This man was insufferable. Perhaps that is why they made quite the pair.
"Workhouse?" Katherine's voice raised an octave, and she quickly reigned herself in as she glared daggers from across the table. "Do not even joke about such a thing, Elliot!" Her lip jutted out in a pout, shoving her bowl of ice cream away now with a huff, slumping into her chair. "I think I should have you sent to one for the way you talk to me. They would have you do some sort of... Horrible thing they do at workhouses!" Kitty genuinely couldn't imagine what a workhouse was like. It surely must be a horrible place, a living hell on earth. In fact, part of her was convinced they were not even real. Just some made up horror story told to ill-behaved children.
"I would not be able to tell, I try not to make a habit of making assumptions about others simply by looking at them. I think a trait others should try and emulate." He smiled, when she made the accusation that just about anyone could enter Parliament. She was not entirely wrong. "Anyone who runs a campaign and wins the most votes of the people they are seeking to serve, yes, then anyone can be a member of parliament. Unless of course, you're referring to the House of Lords.....then well, the Royal Family can raise anyone up into its ranks with a peerage." He raised an eyebrow curious,
"Why would you not want to know a member of your family? What sort of plan do you have brewing, Miss Thorne? Worried you may find joy in family, beyond gossip?" He was poking fun, not maliciously but in a teasing manner.
"Two ladies? Never, just you." Pausing for a moment, "Would you like another ice cream then? Since you've just finished yours and I surely doubt that this is where you'd like to end our conversation."
When she began to question what was done at a workhouse, it was...amusing how far from the struggles of some Katherine was. Oh to be able to be locked away in a gilded cage. Elliot was almost jealous of her. The suffering he'd seen in the army, the poor he had seen in his campaigning.
"Perhaps a lady who comes from such wealth as yourself would accompany me on my next visit to a workhouse, to make a donation. I am working to reform them, and make conditions better for those who need them."
“So you come from a long line of admirals. Interesting,” he muses with a purse of his lips and a nod. Over the years he’d met different navy officials of varied ranks and remembered how they’d sometimes attempt to patrol Nassau and would, if they were in a mood, try and search the houses that he thought was some desperate attempt of rousing out a wanted man or two. There was always an indifference to them. Sometimes maybe even an idea that it could’ve been something he could have done. “I’m biased,” he chuckles, “I prefer the sea so I’d make a different choice if I were in your position.”
The thought of being considered an intellectual was laughable and he thought it as well as showed it by a hearty laugh, real and louder than he wanted it to be. “Mad, I can see! Intellectual…not at all! I’m learned with a few things but honesty doesn’t mean someone has any brains. It’s courage, maybe, but not intellect!” He’d met a lot of honest people that had gotten into completely avoidable situations if they just had a little brains.
“You have no reprieve from the control. I do feel sorry for you in that respect. Not in a pity way, I wouldn’t insult you with that, but my mother unknowingly abetted in my escape,” a happy memory and he knows that it wasn’t intentional but even with that, it added to guilt years later when he refused to leave his escape to return to her in her need. “How do you manage it all? I’d go mad!”
“I always wish to see things like that when someone has good looks. It’s obvious you have them and I think you know it too. Besides, it can much more freeing and feel good when the weather isn’t too cold. Better when it's hot.”
"You might be biased, but you also did not grow up in my home. Perhaps if you did, you would not have quite developed your love for the sea. I learned a great many things in the army though. that I would not have otherwise. Lead men, saved the lives of men, and now I receive a handsome pension, and have a seat in parliament. I suppose things could have been far, far different." He grinned a little, swirling his drink around, "And if I had entered the Navy.....well it may have never led to the situation that lead to me sitting here with you, right now."
Elliot chuckled when Tobias said he was brave, and mad, but not at all intellectual. Perhaps the other was quite honest if he was willing to admit that, not many men would push back against the idea of being called an intellectual. "Tell me then, the maddest thing you've ever done."
He shrugs when he is asked how he manages it all, not quite sure himself. "I manage in ways.....most members of society would frown upon. Indulging myself in certain pleasures. Though......I had been behaving myself as of late. Perhaps its time to be a little disobedient. I am sure you have knowledge of such a thing."
He laughs when Tobias admits that he does like looking at such things, and then blushes when he's told that he has good looks, and that he knows he has them. "Certainly better when it is hot, yes. Tell me Tobias, have you ever sat naked for a portrait than?"
Genevieve narrowed her eyes at him, her face softening and a smile replacing the worried frown that had festered there momentarily. "You are a member of Parliament. I doubt that clothes have become your only love," she teased. That didn't mean he was above shopping for such things, which she was also acutely aware of. "They certainly bring out your beauty among all those withering men you sit with."
She began to pace back and forth, lending an ear to his suggestion. She knew he would be of great help in her efforts. "Local painters, yes. You are a genius, my friend," she cooed, pausing in front of him to take his hands into hers and give them a grateful squeeze.
But then she furrowed her brows and let out some sort of whining sound, akin to a distressed child or animal. "Mais et s'il n'aime pas ce que je lui présente ? Et si je ne le connais pas aussi bien que je le pensais?" Then, she shook her head. "No, no. You are right. He just makes me so nervous. Have you ever felt this way before about someone?"
"And what would be my other loves then, besides clothing, that have arisen from my work in Parliament? Besides, of course, the natural joy of sitting amongst older men and listening to endless debate." Truthfully, Elliot's enjoyment of clothing came before he was in Parliament, and the military and started when he was a young boy. He'd always taken great pride in his looks, and still did.
He smiled when she squeezed his hands and was told that he was a genius, giving a small shrug as if this should have been a known fact that was common sense. "I have sat for a few of the local painters. If you would like I could show you to my favorites? Who I thought captured me best?"
And then she was worried again, and going on and on in French about her worries, the potential of not getting the gift right. Sighing.
"S'il éprouve les mêmes sentiments que toi, il adorera le cadeau, même s'il est horrible." He raised an eyebrow at her question, and rather than answer in English or French, he decided to throw in a third language to catch the Princess off guard.
"Ho mai conosciuto l'amore? Forse, ma è finito con il cuore spezzato. L'esercito non è un luogo per l'amore."
Bertie watched the other man closely, and he noticed the pretty flush to his ears and cheeks. He couldn't help but smile at that. How endearing a thing to see. He wanted to see more of it- he was surprised all it took was a simple good boy to do that to Elliot. It makes him want to keep saying things- until Elliot's whole face looked more like a cherry...He has some control over himself...
He nodded. "Yes, you look like someone who tries to be good," He offered. He hummed as he thought about the offer. "Good thinking, Elli," He said in a tone that can only be seen as praising.
He does inquire about some trousers he could wear while boxing- it didn't take long before he got a pair from a staff member that he could borrow for the time being. Though he decided to change completely behind a curtain. He wasn't going to give a free show like that...He was still in the testing mood- besides, wouldn't a good boy wait his turn for a show like that? He comes out from behind the cover after a few moments. He doesn’t even look towards Elliot as he focuses on setting his clothes to the side- folded and neat.
Bertie had the audacity to keep praising him, to keep deepening the blush on his features, he would certainly have to take this out on Bertie in their lessons, and push the other much harder than he originally planned. Grinning, he nodded his head as he waited for Bertie to finish changing behind the screen. Not that he expected the other to simply fully undress before him, he watches as Bertie sets his clothes to the side, noting how neat he kept them. He liked that in others, neatness, attention to detail. When Bertie was ready Elliot raised an eyebrow, and his hands a little.
"So, Mr. Dawson, are you ready for your boxing lesson? I will warn you, I won't be going easy on you simply because this is your first time. Not giving it my all, won't teach you anything but first, I would like you to just show me how you think your stance should be, maybe throw a practice punch, not at me, but to show me your form. How you move, and such."
Perhaps Elliot was correct in his assumption, the political world of England was not much different from the one of ruling a country, but the main differences lay in the consequences of any mistake, of how alliances shifted and altered from the simplest of slight or favor and yet kings and queens were meant to remain still in their resolve, unable to show any cracks. “A man such as yourself should not want a match with me, regardless of my gender, it would ruin your political career all for the sake of a title and to have your children share royal blood? Such a thing is not fair on either of us, Mr Carlisle, and I will promise you that no such repercussions shall fall on you, or your mother may suffer from my indifference.” Invitations to tea would not longer be sent to Mrs Carlisle, and while the princess was unmarried and her influence fading with every passing day, she was still a princess and people in society still looked to her. Should her disfavor be directed to Elliot’s mother, then others would surely follow and that was the benefit of a sheep-mentality for those in society. “Instead of marriage, there could be something more permanent. If I am to marry another, say a princess or a lady, I will still need children of my line. You could help with that, therefore your mother would get what she most desires and you will be free to marry and love whoever you want, without consequence?" Such a bold offer was not to be taken lightly but other arrangements had worked out for those in society, the current marquess of Downshire was a result of such a thing, even if his father was unnamed, but Elliot Carlise was respectable as he was handsome, and it would be an arrangement that would be awkward, but could suit them both.
Elliot paused and blinked for a few moments when the Princess made her offer. Perplexed, confused, and almost slightly insulted. As if he were a prized stallion simply being used for breeding. Rather than himself being titled, it would be children, that while technically coming from him, would not carry his name. He cleared his throat, furrowed his brows and tried to make sense of what exactly the princess was discussing.
"I do not mean to be disrespectful, Princess, but a title would not be a complete hindrance to my political career. The Prime Minster sits in the House of Lords. It would make it easier to work with him and members of his cabinet more directly. Though I do appreciate your offers of protections, I would not wish to see any negative repercussions fall upon my mother."
Pausing he took another breath. "As for your offer, Princess. I am not entirely sure......the details of what you are proposing. I understand that.....I would play a role in the birth of any potential children but......I would not want to be treated like a prized stud horse, simply being used to produced children. I would hope there would be some sort of additional.....benefits for my role in this arrangement."
Bertie really should focus on the words Elliot is speaking, but it's a little hard to focus. His eyes fluttered back to his gaze when he finally spoke. It seemed the other man didn't mind the staring- he probably wanted him to. He does love giving pretty men what they want...at least when they deserve it so.
"I see..." He said as he gently moved closer to the other man. "Well, we'd see, won't we ? if my grace will help me," He hums. He wonders how Elliot would teach him. If it wasn't in the traditional. There might be different motives here...
"Well, what a good boy you are," He said, because helping others- and even teaching another how to read- is a rather darling thing to do. "Bet you make your parents proud"
"That is right," He said. He followed along into the private room. He looked around the room. He hummed as he started to unbutton his suit coat. He took off his fancy suit coat- the suit he had gotten from Kaira. It was a deep, dark blue, with golden specks and white near the gold. It’s based on the lapis lazuli- a simple something that was helping with the gemstone ball. It did mean a lot to him. It almost made him feel more than a valet. He wouldn't want it to be ruined. He took it off and set it aside. He was taking off his button-up shirt. "I'd rather not ruin this suit. It's the nicest one I've got." He was actually kind of excited to box. Elliot was nice to look at as well, but a new skill is always something Bertie is eager to learn.
"So we shall." Elliot was actually curious to see how well Bertie took to boxing. Something told him the other man would be quite well at it, but....well Elliot could possibly be wrong. If he was.....well he would endeavor to make Bertie feel good about what he had attempted. Pausing when he was called a good boy, he felt the tops of his ear go beat red, and his face flushing. Was Bertie testing just how good of a boy Elliot could be? It sounded so right coming from his lips though.
"Good boy? I try to be, yes." He nodded his head a little, deciding not to comment on if he makes his parents proud or not. He hopes he does, but joining the army was a disappointment in his father's eyes. He watches as Bertie begins to undo his suit, noting the craftsmanship and quality that went into it. It was a good suit, and he understood the others desire to keep it safe.
"If you would like, we could inquire into them bringing you new trousers as well, so that the ones from this set are not ruined. Or if you would quicken time, I can offer you a spare pair I have with me." Though as nicely as the suit's cut and make was, Elliot would enjoy seeing what lied beneath it's design.
"Yes," she said, as chirpy as could be. The notion that she was bribing him made her scoff and wave off the idea. Genevieve wasn't interested in bribing members of Parliament, it had no benefit to her just yet. Although, the idea wasn't terrible. She subtly shook it away, knowing what would transpire should that come to fruition. "They can argue all they like while they stare at your new things you will wear. I dare them to accuse you of bribery. Vieux fous ridicules."
Since she wasn't allowed to bring her beloved cat with her, she thought it better to begin quite the tab at her father's likely protest. She could hear it across the channel now, and it brought a sense of deep-seated satisfaction to her heart. "Er, all of the above? He adores all of those things, though I'm not sure if he mentioned sculpting. But he does love drawing and painting," Genevieve answered confidently. Given how vulnerable Edgar appeared revealing his love for the theatre, she kept hush on the matter for now.
When he agreed, she beamed. "Excellent. First, the modiste. Madamoiselle Kaira can lead us to some great things. And then Somerset House. I am thinking there will be many people there who enjoy art, and they will know where to purchase said art," she explained. "Or should I find it elsewhere? Oh, goodness. Le cadeau doit être parfait. Mais je dois aussi aller chez la modiste et trouver ce qu'il me faut."
In short, she was...panicking. And she never panicked unless there was a genuine reason.
Elliot raised an eyebrow when she spoke French, unsure if she knew that he knew exactly what he was saying. During his growing up his parents made sure he learned several different languages, that it would help him ascend to court life. He chuckled at her daring of someone to accuse him bribery while looking upon his new finery. "And who said it was clothing that I desired? Perhaps I will seek out something different in these many stores we shall be visiting. Or had you not considered that clothing may not be my only love?"
He nods his head when she shares that he loves most of the arts he mentioned, except for sculpting, she was unsure on that, he hummed. "We should visit some local painters then. I am sure a new piece of art that you think speaks to you about him will bring him great joy. It will say, I know your interests, and this piece sang to me about you."
She lays out their schedule ahead of them, and Elliot nods once more in agreement, he sees no reason to object to this. And then she mentions how the gift must be perfect in French.
"Je suis sûr que la perfection sera trouvée."
nicholas galitzine as adam glenn
The selection of books on the shelves was adequate, Claude supposed, though in his opinion it lacked anything truly worthwhile. Regardless, he was pulled from his thoughts when someone approached, and he was anything but rude. Turning, he aimed a polite smile at the new face, his expression edging on the friendlier side intentionally. "Yes, yes, this is my first visit. It is impressive, I agree, even if their literature is... I would say, lacking in diversity." He waved his hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture, complete with a light chuckle. "But that is a matter of individual taste." He reached to accept Elliot's hand, grasping it firmly. "Ah, a politician! How very exciting. A pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Claude De Chanterelle." He purposefully left out the title for now - this was a friendly conversation, and immediately announcing he was a duke felt like it might come across as gloating. For now, he would just remain amicable. Being in the good books of a politician could never truly be a bad thing.
Elliot nodded his head in agreement, "And tell me what would you add? To the reading to make it more diverse?" He chuckled a little, "Though I will admit, we English tend to like to stick to our English thinkers. We are rather stuck in our ways at times." He raised an eyebrow, "And what would you call your individual tastes?" Elliot was always curious to understand the thinking of others, especially those not native to England. The world was so vast, and filled with so many different ideas.
He noted how firm his handshake was. "Is it, exciting? Most times I am told how dreadful politicians can be, and what an exception I usually make. I'd like to account that fact on my youth, compared to so many of my fellow members of parliament." Pulling his hand away when appropriate,
"But the pleasure is all mine, Mr. De Chanterelle. You are from France, than sir? What brings you across the Channel to England, then?"
