where the dark remembers you.

penned by mel. fury, pure and silver. you grip it tight inside like a knife. it glints in your eye. it's why i've arrived here, to take you where you need to go to where the dark remembers you

[hcppilyevercfter]

When: May 30th, 1825; fifth day of the Coronan Lantern Festival. Who: Theodore Fortin & Briar Rose Basille. 

Theo did not chase after anyone. 

His pride was too delicate to entertain anyone who hadn’t the slightest interest in him, knowing for every one person that did not fancy the young Fortin, there was always another far more willing participant he knew to take their place. That was why it struck him most startling when after such a brief encounter with Briar Rose, she didn’t seem to stray too far from his mind. It was clear she thought him no better than a perverse scoundrel — her choice of words — and likely wished he was but a far off thought she had long left behind on that dock. And yet there he was, forsaking his pride as he glanced from above his glass towards the scene before him. 

The ballroom was plentiful in people and entertainment. Every person who had made the journey to Corona for the Countess’s birthday festivities was in attendance, which meant Briar Rose, too, should have been here somewhere. He did not make it so obvious he had been keeping an eye out for her that evening. He kept close to his companions, and when he strayed, it was only in search of a drink — and of her. Now, he had no intention of pursuing anything as true and pure as Henry had told him she wished for. He didn’t vie for her hand, nor her virtue. Well, not entirely. More so, he wished merely to see if she still arose that particular flicker of interest she had stoked in him upon their first meeting. Everyone had grown predictable and downright boring, unable to keep his attention for very long. Briar Rose was a welcomed respite. 

And it was an also unintended bonus if he could best Henry Charming at yet one more thing. 

Having finished his second drink, he set it atop a tray someone was holding as they walked past him, and once the other cleared from his view, that was when he saw her. The string quartet had just begun another song, fanciful and grand, and he allowed the swaying bodies between them to act as his cover as he approached her, keeping her from seeing him. Even if she had spotted him, he was unsure she would recognize him, what with Henry’s help in tidying himself up for the long-awaited ball. One hand idly rose to his face, fingers ghosting past where his beard once was. He missed it. 

Only once he was closer did he allow for himself to be seen and heard. “Lady Rose,” he said in greeting, though he had arranged himself a step behind her so he could lean down and meet her at her shorter stature, his words spoken to her ear, “it is a pleasure to see you this evening.” After capturing her attention, he stood tall again, a charming smile illuminating his face, “I must admit, I did wish our next meeting would’ve been something akin to our first, where I save you from imminent danger and become your hero, but I suppose the evening is young.”

@discnchant​

[hcppilyevercfter]

[hcppilyevercfter]

LYLE TIBERIUS ROURKE IS PROUD TO SEND THEIR CHILD, SCARLETT ROURKE, TO THE LAND OF AURADON FOR THE UPCOMING SOCIAL SEASON. WE HEAR THEY’RE GRACEFUL AND EDUCATED, BUT CAN ALSO BE DISLOYAL AND SELF-CENTERED. AND IT’S SAID THEY BARE A REMARKABLE RESEMBLANCE TO LUCY BOYNTON, BUT THAT’S MERELY A COINCIDENCE. WE’RE SURE THEY’LL CAUSE QUITE A STIR IN THE TON THIS YEAR BUT ONLY TIME WILL TELL.

basics. 

name: scarlett ann rourke

age: 26 (december 28th, 1799)

parents: rourke

homeland: the shadow realm

gender: ciswoman (she/her)

headcanons. (tw: sexual assault implication)

lyle tiberius rourke didn’t take well to losing. he was an advantageous man, with a steadfast mind that was always a step ahead of those around him, ensuring no matter the situation, he was the one to end up on top. whoever he had to push out of his way was mere collateral damage. nothing personal. he never expected to be the one pushed to his demise, let alone by some insufferable boy with a pathetic bleeding heart. his delirious rage was his one companion in the afterlife, and when resurrected, it only grew. 

with so much to occupy his newly reborn time, wishing more than anything to exact revenge, it was quite the surprise when his first and only daughter was born during the commencement of the cauldron war. but when the opportunity presented itself and he came across a woman he desired, well... he certainly didn’t take no as any form of an answer. 

revenge, however, never seemed to follow the set plan. banished, he and his daughter were sent to the shadow realm with scarlett’s mother long out of the picture. a weak woman, feeble-minded and ill-suited to raise anyone, it was rourke who took it upon himself to raise her on his own. he taught her plenty, but his most valuable lesson of all was taught while she was young — always do what will best benefit your own interest, and don’t mind who you have to step on to achieve it. 

scarlett didn’t have to be told to know that even she could easily be discarded if he no longer saw her of use to him, so she learned how to survive. and for a woman, the best means of survival was in how best to appeal to the male gaze. it was only in the pursuit of finding a worthy suitor did she learn and excel in many a skill. her needlework was always precise, and she knew how to hold a tune, be it in song or on the pianoforte. she knew three languages atop her own (french, spanish, and latin) and was always light on her feet, making for a dance partner anyone would vie for. best of all, she was graced with a beauty that caught many potential suitors’ eyes. scarlett was a woman any would be so lucky to have the privilege in calling her their wife.

the problem was, the shadow realm was not ripe with any she thought deserved the mantle of husband. she had a dalliance or two, but nothing so serious as to expect a life with them. if they could not adequately care for her, what good were they? thinking herself doomed to spinsterhood, she focused on other avenues of interest, namely in dance. it was when put on her beloved pointe shoes, a chance find in a shop known for its stolen goods, did she feel like she was fully in her own body. not a facade, nor anyone else but herself — whoever that was. ballet was her form of expression, and it was when she was most vulnerable, open and raw with no steely cold expression to protect herself from those glancing in from the outside.

if not for the decree heard around the shadow realm, scarlett would have settled for whoever best suited her interest, but with a much bigger pool of bachelors to explore, she has a new goal in mind. someone rich and noble, who will give her a large estate. if not meeting either qualification, then onto the next. with her age, she knows she has no right to be so fickle, but she wishes for what her father couldn’t have. and for a woman, there was no other way to acquire one own’s property or fortune, so whatever poor fool she happened to entrap, so be it. it was nothing personal. 

miscellaneous. 

sexual orientation: heterosexual. 😪

romantic orientation: heteroromantic. 😒

family: commander lyle tiberius rourke (father), adeline fitzgerald (mother)

height: 5′5

zodiac sign: capricorn

wanted connections. 

no thoughts, head empty. throw anything at her. ~(￣▽￣)~*

[joel-millerr]

I believe we have some power over who we love. It isn’t something that just happens to a person. I think the poets might disagree. 

FLORENCE PUGH as AMY MARCH in LITTLE WOMEN (2019) | dir. Greta Gerwig

[hcppilyevercfter]

tag drop for scarlett!!

[hcppilyevercfter]

THE GOOD FAIRIES FLORA, FAUNA AND MERRYWEATHER OF AURORIA ARE PROUD TO PRESENT THEIR GRANDCHILD, THE HONOURABLE LAURENCE FERNADELL, FOR THE UPCOMING SOCIAL SEASON. WE HEAR THEY’RE DISCIPLINED AND INTUITIVE, BUT CAN ALSO BE COMPLACENT AND ALOOF. AND IT’S SAID THEY BARE A REMARKABLE RESEMBLANCE TO EVAN MOCK, BUT THAT’S MERELY A COINCIDENCE. WE’RE SURE THEY’LL CAUSE QUITE A STIR IN THE TON THIS YEAR, BUT ONLY TIME WILL TELL.

basics.

name: Laurence Fernadell

age: 24 (september 24, 1801)

grandparents: Flora, Fauna and Merryweather

homeland: Auroria

gender: cisman (he/him)

sexuality: demisexual

headcanons.

Laurence hadn’t ever known his parents, but he had heard stories, the bits and pieces that his grandmothers could stomach telling. His father had been killed during the Cauldron War, and his mother hadn’t known she was with child until after the war had ended. It was said she suffered a broken heart and used all the magic she could muster to carry her son to term. After christening him with the name of her beloved Laurence, she joined him in the afterlife, and it was Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather who were entrusted with raising the young sparrowman. 

The pixies delighted in having another young faerie to raise, having longed to return to the days when Aurora was nothing but a small babe in their care. However, this time they had full use of their magic to aid in their rearing since Maleficent was banished far from the newly established Auradon. 

With the Good Fairies having settled in Auroria, Laurence had grown in between two worlds — that of faeries and that of humans. His grandmothers, try as they did, wished to show him the beauty in their magic, but Laurie noticed quite quickly that those like them — those like him — were few and far in between. Most children had rounded edges along their ears, and none struggled as he did with tying back their wings every morning so as to not raise eyebrows from those who glanced upon the small faerie. Worst of all was his rosy pink hair, a trait passed from his mother that no touch of magic could remedy. He was not like them, nor were they like him. 

Laurence noticed early on that the place he and his grandmothers seemed best to fall into were at the behest of the Duke and Duchess of Auroria. The pixies were long-standing confidantes of Phillip and Aurora, and where they were able to assist in their duty, they did. In doing so, they were awarded with kindness, with confidence, and with a sense of belonging. And Laurie knew then that if he wished for the same, then he too would have have to find someone in which to help serve. Only then could he truly stand tall and know no one, no sprite nor human, could ever say he didn’t have a place. 

Since arriving at that conclusion, Laurence has been nothing if not most faithful to the crown and the nobility surrounding them, knowing when and how to speak, how to conduct himself in a room full of people, and how to simmer the magic he could feel emanating from his fingertips. It was only to be used when necessary. With the arrival of the shadowborn, it has taken more of his reserve to keep it at bay, entirely unsettled by their presence. He knows not to question the princess so publicly, but in private he hasn’t made such a diligent effort to keep his distaste from shining through. 

miscellaenous.

sexual orientation: demisexual

romantic orientation: biromantic

family: flora (grandmother), fauna (grandmother), merryweather (grandmother)

height: 5′10

zodiac sign: virgo

wanted connections.

tbd.

[hcppilyevercfter]

When: May 30th, 1825; fifth day of the Coronan Lantern Festival

Who: Wilhelmina and Alouette Westergaard

If not for Juliette and Alouette, Mina was sure she would be a mute; not by choice but rather by circumstance, given she struggled so in making acquaintances. The two were dear to her, and her sister especially so, though she knew Lou didn’t share her same... disadvantages. It appealed more like her sister wanted to repel people altogether, whereas Mina only wished to draw them closer, to be a friend, a confidante. Worrying for her sister had become second nature, and in Auradon, even more so. She wished for the two to fit in seamlessly, but there was always a snag in the fabric that made up the Westergaard sisters, be it Lou’s distaste for, well, everything, or Mina’s too placid, too timid nature. 

Whenever Alouette left her line of sight, she could feel the uncomfortably familiar bundle of nerves settling in the pit of her stomach, wondering if she was all right — had she lost her way? Had she been snatched by another? It wasn’t too far gone a point given the Countess’ own past. She quickened her pace and once she searched every crevice of the ballroom, she departed from the scene and down the grand hall until she saw a slim figure overlooking the balcony outside. Approaching quietly, Mina didn’t wish to arouse attention to herself as the figure became clearer in view, not until she saw who it was. Immediately, the tight knot in her chest loosened at the sight of the familiar blonde locks. She would know her anywhere. 

“Lou,” she said as she wove her arm over her sister’s and brought her to her side, “you had me worried sick, thinking you had fallen into bad company.” After all, the ruffians Rapunzel seemed so fond of were in attendance; although, she was sure that her sister was far more intimidating than any of that lot.  “Have you been playing nice with others this evening?” The question was more akin to that a mother would ask of a small child than a sister to another, but it had often been Mina to take on the maternal role, especially between the two. It was where she was most comfortable. 

@nohappyendingsx​

[hcppilyevercfter]

When: May 30th, 1825; fifth day of the Coronan Lantern Festival

Who: Wilhelmina Westergaard and Faerilyth Moor

Wilhelmina hadn’t the faintest idea on how to act at these sort of functions. Like a mockingbird reiterating the sounds it heard, she mimicked the way the Auradonian women moved, though their fluid motions seemed heavier on her limbs. Their carefree giggles amongst one another sounded disjointed and even grating coming from her own mouth, and she never quite understood the unspoken words in between, the ones hidden in the corners of their smiles and the poised way they tilted their heads up, like no one could ever possibly come close in stature. She was often outside looking in. Mina supposed she should’ve grown accustomed to her place now, but the sting of it never seemed to soothe itself, even after all this time. 

She watched as couples danced in their pairs and longed for someone to ask her for a dance, though she knew not how to put one foot in front of the other with such grace. Her dance card would remain empty that evening, and she would inevitably make her way towards the refreshment table to stow away a carrot or two to give to her dearest bushy-tailed Frederick once she returned to her lodgings. It was how it had come to be since her departure from the Shadow Realm, and it would likely remain for the duration of her stay, however long that should be. For a moment, her heart seized in her chest at the thought of returning from where she came, but she took to breathing as she had learned when her heart palpitated so. A lone walk around the ballroom would clear her mind. 

She kept her gaze towards her feet and made her round, not noticing who she passed or where she was going until a dark figure caught her attention from her peripheral vision. Wilhelmina rose her head and made out Faerilyth on her own. Just like her. No, no, not like her. It wasn’t often she was unaccompanied,  more often flocked by Nikolai or Mercedes, but in a chance of events, it was Mina who had come across her. Most would swiftly turn on their heel and head as far from Faerilyth as they could, but Mina didn’t think it fair for no one to offer her an ounce of cordiality. It was often those who didn’t receive it who needed it the most. “Miss Moor,” she said, ducking her head and giving a slight curtsy in greeting. “How are you this evening?”

Wilhelmina’s smile was small, timid, and she nervously smoothed the skirt of her dress. “The ball is lovely, is it not?” Small talk was never her strong suit, but by gods, she would try. “Though I confess I often feel out of place at these sort of events.” Oh, she hadn’t meant to say that, but then her lips moved faster than her brain would allow and she was saying, “Do you—do you ever feel like you don’t belong?” No! What had she done? “I-I’m sorry,” Mina quickly retracted, stumbling now, “That was a s-silly question, I-I’m sure you don’t ever feel that way, you’re, well— you’re you, and I’m... I’m me.” And they were nothing alike. How foolish of her to ever assume Faerilyth would ever feel as she did. 

@discnchant​

[hcppilyevercfter]

discnchant​:

❧❧❧❧

Of all the infuriating responses Briar Rose could have received from such a man, the grin that began appearing on his lips was possibly the worst of all. Not because it portrayed the sense he did not take her very seriously then — of course most men didn’t take young ladies serious to begin with. No, the reason she found it so frustrating as he smiled back in the face of her irritation was simply because in that millisecond in which it grew her only thought was on how absolutely dashing his smile was. Curse this rogue who stumbled upon her on such a night. Not one where she was beguiling and alluring and all those things that gorgeous young women were supposed to be. She could have been so winsome, she could have flattered his ego and satisfied her own arrogance when she enraptured his attention, but, no, she was just irritable and unfriendly. He was probably amused with her, probably thought she was a joke.

If she felt an ounce of guilt as he protested his (mostly) clear innocence, Briar Rose buried it deep. She stuck her chin up and tried to look down on him haughtily — as much as she could look down on a man who bested her in height anyway. Whatever resolve his startlingly handsome smile chipped away at was only bolstered by his refusal to introduce himself and she narrowed her steely glare upon him. “So then you admit that you’re nothing but a ruffian,” she scoffed. “Very well, don’t tell me who you are. Not that it matters — I am a woman of high stature and you are so clearly beneath me. I don’t need your name, it would mean nothing to me.” But it infuriated her so that he did not say it. How else was she to inquire on him later on, when her pettiness dissipated and she pondered the line of his jaw, the broad squareness of his shoulders, that charming smile?

No time to dwell on how he whispered her name, of the low timber of his voice, before he was making the only reasonable statement since she’d (literally) bumped into him. He was right, a gentleman and a young lady should not be caught alone under any circumstances, especially when one was vexing the other to near constant state of flush. That could give off the wrong impression — if someone saw how he’d held her (albeit from a nasty fall) then there could be a hasty misinterpretation. And she was ready to bid him adieu, to banish him from her presence and sight (at least until she was alone to her thoughts and he was welcomed into the recess of her mind), but he decided to push her buttons once more and suggest she may wish him to stay. The arrogance. The absolute audacity of the fool. To presume he had place in her company, that she should wish it. And then to be so close, testing the boundaries of propriety, and to drop his gaze from her eyes to her lips borderline salaciously. If she were able to turn red with fury, she’d have resembled a ripe cherry. A cherry that fought against a startled gasp, to keep her breathing even and to not follow suit and stare back at him so, so… She couldn’t pin point exactly what it was about his stare that caused her to shiver involuntarily. It’s a sea breeze, not the scoundrel. She would not give him the satisfaction of a physical reaction. All she could do was give him a stony look of defiance.

One which melted away almost instantly into a charming grin.

Gone in an instant was the haughty irritable woman, replaced with honeyed doe eyes and an enchanting smile. “Sir, you are quite right,” she started in a slow purr of a voice, closing the remaining length of the space between them until she was but a breath away. My he was rather tall and big this up close, stocky and towering above her. If she so much as swayed on her feet, her nose would brush against his chest. She was toeing a rather fine line, but she’d not given herself permission to think on it. Instead Briar Rose glanced up at him with her head tilted just so, through fluttering lashes, gaze following the line of his strong shoulder, along his jaw and up to his face to look him directly in the eye. Those blue, blue eyes. “I do wish for you to stay,” she whispered. And then she elbowed him aside, pushing past him to begin walking back to the more populated and less dark parts of the city. Places where suspicious men with handsome grins and oceanic eyes didn’t linger. “Do stay and toss yourself over that pier, and send my warmest regards to the fish, why don’t you?”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

It was quite unlike Theodore to ever fluster, but he was quite close to it as Briar neared him, close enough that her scent wafted over his senses, so sweet and so pure. He wished to press his nose to the nape of her neck and take it in further, but of course restraint was, above all else, his closest companion and his fiercest rival, so he kept with his hands behind his back and merely kept his eyes on hers, catching then the hints of green in her irises. He’d wait for the tell; every woman had one. Gaston had taught him. Another thing he was begrudgingly grateful to his father for. 

When a woman wished for a kiss, there’d be a shift in the way they carried themselves. Their body would turn towards the other, their lashes would flutter, wanting to appear chaste even in these circumstances, and their lips would part with a quick intake of breath, waiting, anticipating, for the other to quickly piece together what their partner desired. And it appeared even Briar Rose followed the script, but just as Theodore went to lean down, a sharp elbow to his stomach drew his breath and his shock made him an easy obstacle to push past. His gaze followed her as she walked back towards the castle and away from the man who seldom had anyone surprise him anymore. 

Everyone had become predictable. Everyone, it appeared, except for this particular young lady who now thoroughly piqued his interest. Even as she wished he dive headfirst into the water, his grin reappeared, broader now, and he couldn’t quite keep from watching her retreating figure disappear into the crowds of people who enveloped her quickly, no longer in his line of sight. 

He could only look to where she once stood and the hand that had wrapped around her slender waist still felt the warmth of her body so close to his. He outstretched his fingers and then closed it into a fist, back to his side. He almost thought her an apparition if not for the way her scent still lingered even after she had taken her leave. He breathed in and looked to the lanterns, thinking of only of how their lights seemed dimmer now that he was alone. Rose. 

[oncemorewthfeeling]

WHEN: MAY 30, FIFTH DAY OF CORONAN LANTERN FESTIVAL WHO: SILVERBELL AND THEODORE FORTIN

The gardens were a happy place. Truly, anywhere that was outdoors was a comfort for Silver. But as a flower faerie, being surrounded by blooms and flora were always ways to lift the pixies spirit. And as she had gotten a vision of the garden through the windows, Silver knew she no longer had any intention of staying inside.

It did not take long to find doors that led to the garden, and soon Silver was being embraced by the warm summer air and floral scents. Heading towards a chrysanthemum that seemed to be on the edge of death, the fae used her magic to bring it back to lift. As the petals curved and reached for the sky, a soft, genuine smile fell on Silver’s lips. She began to wander throughout the gardens, tending to wilting flowers along the way and breathing new life into them. It might not be a purpose, but it felt good to do something. 

Rounding a corner, Silver came upon a broad figure. She and the man were acquainted, although she’d confess she did not remember his name. He seemed to be alone, but she wondered if that was an act. “Out looking to meet someone within the rose beds? Or perhaps you’ve just departed for the night?” She speculated, coming closer to him and getting a good look. He was a handsome man, with a strong stature that she’d like to wrap around. “I can not imagine you were merely enjoying the gardens. I’ve yet to meet a male who has done such a thing. What with all the rules and expectations at these events, most men only leave the dance floor to play a game of cards or share a bottle of brandy with other annoyed men. All hiding from the ridiculous mama’s and their desperate daughters.” She looked him over, slow circling his form as she did so. Her almost white hair no doubt a beacon in the moonlight. “So, what are you doing?” @hcppilyevercfter​

[hcppilyevercfter]

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Theodore headed to find a breath of fresh air posthaste; the ballroom was stifling, under bright candlelight and all of its occupants, so many mamas and their daughters eagerly cornering any young, unlucky man all by his lonesome to convince onto the dancefloor. He had managed to avoid any unwanted interactions, but he confessed he wished to find more appealing company — someone interesting, someone like... well, Briar Rose, he supposed. But he hadn’t had the chance yet to find her, so he settled instead for his own company and ended up in the gardens of the castle. 

In Auradon, he was familiar with gardens such as these, but not for its flowerbeds. Many a lady — even his dear friend Henry on occasion — would accompany him on a promenade and often end up someplace away from the paved path, with Theo admiring other such flowers. Though he didn’t fancy himself any sort of lothario, he was never known to lack in that particular sort of friendship. But in Corona, in this garden, it was not his intention, not as he delved deeper until he could no longer hear the music swell from the ballroom just some ways away. He breathed deeply and looked to the roses, a deep shade of red. It reminded him of the way Briar Rose’s face flushed when they were only inches apart. He blinked, trying to dissolve the very thought — likening a woman to a rose? Se calmer, Fortin. 

Quickly, another’s voice rose above his own thoughts, and he turned to see Silverbell, appearing as pale as the moonlight itself. Perhaps Theodore had spoken too soon. Perhaps it had been his intention to find another to prove a worthy diversion to the evening’s events. 

“Miss Silverbell,” he began, “I admit I didn’t expect any company, but I certainly don’t mind our meeting here.” He stood still as she appraised him, circling him like a hunter would its prey. He wondered if she too would bite. “What’s to say I didn’t merely wander here in search of a distraction?” Her reputation preceded her, beautiful as she was mischievous. “And you? No woman would wander unaccompanied if she herself didn’t like to break some rules.” He waved his hand in the air. “Etiquette be damned.”

[hcppilyevercfter]

 discnchant​:

Henry’s gaze darkened and flickered towards the other, appraising him from the corner of his eye. Their friendship was a most beneficial one, as he was so aptly reminded. Moistening his bottom lip, he smirked in reply. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see how true your statement is.” Not that he expected something out of the evening; Theodore Fortin was, as it turned out, one of the few who could hold his interest with their clothes on, and was becoming a rather good friend of his. So really the idea of just going to the tavern with a friend and having drinks at the least was enough for satiate the Earl for that evening. A shocking thing for some, at least those who somehow believed he couldn’t hold onto friends. 

Following after Theodore, he grinned when the other expressed an interest to join in on the card game he mentioned. Their meeting was an unorthodox one, Theodore having snuck his way into the gentleman’s club only the upper society men went to. And Henry, ever astute and knowing this bearded interloper did not belong, had made a wager: beat him at a card game and he may stay without fuss. To his surprise, Fortin actually bested him. And while normally his ego could not handle such defeat, Henry found himself impressed enough to vouch for his place there. And their friendship had carried on from that moment. “You simply do not know me well enough, yet,” he said as he descended into a chair. “Gambling is.. Unfortunately a vice of mine, and I seek it wherever I can. But it could be nice to have a companion the next time I get the urge.” 

Fortin eagerly ordered the first round, and gulped it down rather quickly. Henry was of course the picture perfect gentleman, taking more time to nurse his drink. And while he would wrinkle his nose at others, Henry did not even bat an eye at the other as he ordered another drink. Instead he wondered just what it was like living in the Shadow Realm that a man so effortlessly chugged down whiskey that quickly.

Henry snorted, rather indelicately, at Theo’s question, finishing his drink before ordering a refill of his own. “Not much, unfortunately, though not because of my parents’ appearances at the festival.” He stayed separate from them when he could, coach ride excluded, so he didn’t have to worry much about running into his family while there in Corona. “This weekend is too involved, and Corona proper is too clean to find much ‘trouble’. But here—” He motioned around the Snuggly Duckling with its low lighting, rough edges, and stuffed animal and weaponry as décor, “—Your lot has a front row to any sort of mischief around these parts. Rooming in the home of the world famous Tangleton Ruffians.” When he drink arrived, he quickly moved to take a long sip, as if competing with Fortin’s gusto. He did not gulp down the drink the same way as his companion. 

Someone catching his eye caused Henry to pause mid second sip. Admittedly his mind wandered to his altercation with Lady Drusilla earlier that very day. When she spoke harshly to him. Not that he didn’t deserve as much, he was, as always, acting a cad, but… He just hadn’t been expecting it. Neither he or his prick. He scoffed, “The only people I’m being paraded around are the ‘proper young ladies’ of the ton, a boring lot. Not easy enough with their virtue, or interesting enough of character to tempt me. Handsome or otherwise.” Intolerable he thought most of them. “And I would advise you to maintain a distance from then yourself, Fortin. Positively no fun comes from tangling oneself with lords’ daughters.” He swallowed another gulp of whiskey before nodding at him. “And what of you? Gotten up to anything interesting while in Corona?” 

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Theodore lamented Henry’s plight, if only because he seconded the sentiment — women of the ton were bred well, with the unfortunate expectation to continue in that tradition. He did not wish to court another; he merely wished for a distraction. Most who found themselves acquainted in such a way with him expected the same. No attachments, no feeling. He pitied the season’s young men, who would be hounded by mamas and young women alike. 

If he thanked anyone in that moment, it was Gaston for his inability to even appear noble, not after all he had done to Her Royal Highness, so Theodore had done well thus far as to not be asked to fill a lady’s dance card. He was not a sought out bachelor. “Believe you me, I have no intention in meddling with the affairs of any ‘proper young lady.’ I leave the court and its women solely to you.” He raised his drink in a toast, one hand on Henry’s shoulder as he declared, “May you have luck in finding she who shall be the future Duchess of Cinderellasburg. You’ll need it, you poor devil.”

~~~ 

It hadn’t been even more than a few days since his encounter with Briar Rose, but the young Fortin struggled with purging her from his mind. It drove him mad, not knowing why he was so moved by their encounter, but perhaps it was because she thought him so.... intolerable? Infuriating? Insolent? She had every right to think of him as such, seeing as he had given her nothing she had wished for in their chance meeting. Their brush into one another had left him wanting more. More of what? Even he couldn’t put it to words. 

He just knew he wished for her golden-eyed gaze to meet his, for her rosy lips to purse at his words, for her to simply not waver in her attention to him. Pathetic, wasn’t it? It certainly wasn’t love, nor affection, but more of a.. fascination. An interest.

It struck him then that if he wished to know more about the elusive woman, his chances were better with picking the likes of Henry’s mind for he had an advantage in having grown up in Auradon alongside her. “Say, Charming,” he said, piquing his attention as they walked beside each other, “what do you know of Lady Briar Rose?” He tried every bit to appear nonchalant, echoing back to the warning his friend had uttered only days past, of ‘maintaining a distance’ with such young ladies. Theodore feigned picking something off his vest, still trying to be discreet, “She and I talked to one another only briefly the other day. She seemed...” There were many words he could use to fill the space, but he settled with, “difficult.”

[hcppilyevercfter]

When: May 30th, 1825; fifth day of the Coronan Lantern Festival. 

There was no bigger insult to Theodore in all his time there than the decision to pair him — of every single person in the gods-forsaken Shadowrealm — with Nikolai Chenov. The two had been something close to friends in their boyhood, but found little in common once they grew older, with Nik seeming to fully embody the darkness from which he came, and with Theodore, well... not. It wasn’t that he believed in all that was good and right, but he held indifference towards anything not immediately pertaining to himself. Call it ignorance, but he simply chose to expend his energy on matters he cared about. And taking down the kingdom of Auradon and all its people? That was nearer the bottom of his priorities. 

Still, rooming with the other meant having to tolerate his presence once more, even at the many, many balls the nobility seemed fond of throwing. Theodore knew he could very well find another place to shift his attention, but he had come across Nik on his way to fetch himself lemonade and it was outrageously impolite if he didn’t at least acknowledge his existence. “I’m surprised you showed up at all,” he confessed to the other, nodding to him as he approached him, “I thought you’d have some underpass to beg under, but it appears we are fortunate enough to account with your presence for the evening.” 

Plucking a drink from one of the server’s trays, he continued, “I must say, under this candlelight, your complexion is... truly ghastly. I take it this is what you were going for, oui? What better way to frighten everyone?” He nudged him with his elbow, insincerity dripping from his every word, “I commend your commitment, Nik.”

@oncemorewthfeeling​

[hcppilyevercfter]

discnchant​:

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In her wildest, most romantic dreams Briar Rose had dreamed of moments such as this. She dreamed of dashing heroes, distant princes in fine livery or rugged pirates with dark make up around their glowing eyes, courageous men quite literally sweeping her off her feet. She dreamed of them rescuing her from mythical beasts and dangerous falls, of their arms, so corded with muscle, weaving around her slender form and pulling her flat to their chests. Every time her eyes closed a romantic vision played again and again. But reality was never as heated or tumultuous as Briar Rose imagined it to be, which always proved a sour disappointment to the lady. While at night she would have marveled at thoughts of bearded ruffians pulling her close and drinking her in with a smoldering sapphire gaze, the reality scared her. Who was this man who held her close? Who was interrupting her solitude? Could he have been someone dangerous?

His hands left their spot on her waist, but Briar Rose could still feel the weight of them there, like iron bars wrapped around her skin. She involuntarily shivered at the loss of contact but hadn’t thought of it further. Smoothing her hands down her dress, she cast a stubbornly defiant look at the water before raising her chin back at him. “I would have been fine,” she lied, “I was in no need of your assistance.” Deep down Briar Rose could acknowledge that she needed to be more appreciative. He had done as he said, he saved her the humiliation of falling into water, and very well saved her life. She couldn’t swim, after all. But she would not divulge such information, she would not give the man before her the satisfaction of rescuing a damsel in distress. She would rather drown.

This mystery man stared back at her, practically on the verge of gawking, and Briar Rose let out an indelicate scoff. In any other circumstance she would appreciate such attention — she practically demanded it from most men. If they did not somehow acknowledge her beauty and presence than what good was she? But under his gaze… She shifted a bit. Not uncomfortably, no, just… She couldn’t quite put her finger on the emotions swirling within herself. She decided to continue with her red hot anger instead of acknowledging the heat rising from where his fingers previously held her.

“May I help you with something?” She asked in a grunt when he’d just stared. He began speaking soon after, and she did not resist an eye roll in response. What would he know of what she should and shouldn’t do? She didn’t know the man and she could surmise he was not a man of consequence or importance. All that recommended him were those startlingly blue eyes which caught her attention even as she glared defiantly at him. She quite liked blue.

“Lady,” she corrected sternly, “Lady Rose.” A second after she’d given her name, she instantly regretted it. Briar Rose could be so impulsive when under the influence of a strong emotion — had she been more level headed then she would have approached this with more tact, more caution. She wouldn’t have trusted the man with her identity. She soured at the realization she was not quick enough to withhold it. But at the same time, she was also rather angry to have to give it at all. Wasn’t she supposed to be a kingdom renown beauty? How dare he not recognize her. She was growing so irrationally angry with this stranger. Any other time she’d have had more grace.

“And you? Should you be here yourself, lurking in the shadows like a perverse scoundrel?” Her eyes flashed, “I may go where I please, sir, but you should have more tact. Sneaking up on ladies of well breeding is highly irregular. I have half a mind to shout for the city guard.” A cruel thing she wouldn’t do despite her words. The reality was he seemed harmless — tall, broad shouldered, handsome beneath the scruff or so she assumed, but harmless nonetheless. 

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Lady Rose. Of course — Auroria’s finest treasure, their dearest, most beloved Briar Rose. Theodore had noticed her before, had seen the way she carried herself with every bit of arrogance and primness one could expect of a woman of her pedigree. He hadn’t the chance to introduce himself before, and now certainly didn’t seem the time to make a lasting impression, seeing how she wished he were the one to fall off the deck and into the depths of the Coronan sea. The haughty look in her eyes said as much, though Theo couldn’t help the grin that tugged on the edge of his lips. 

Her intimidation tactics did nothing to frighten him; she was as frightful as a small, pampered excuse for a pooch. 

“I only wished to find a moment to myself among...” he waived his hand towards the others, who had begun to board their boats to find a better place for themselves to view the lanterns. “And as for who I am, well, what use do you have making an acquaintance with a ‘perverse scoundrel’?” His smile grew only then, delighting in keeping something from the woman he was sure received everything she had ever wished upon. 

“Lady Rose, if I may—” There was something he liked about how her name rolled off his tongue, like he had whispered it many times before, only he knew that not to be true, “it would be most unseemly to be caught together, would it not? I may take my leave, unless...” He leaned in then, still far enough away from her to be appropriate, but close enough so as to better follow his gaze from her honeyed eyes to her delicately pink lips, “Unless you wished for me to stay.”

[hcppilyevercfter]

onceuponatimcx​:

✘

She accepted her cut of the profits without hesitation, having long gotten over the debate as to whether or not it was acceptance to take a piece of something you didn’t work towards getting. Every day back home it had felt like their survival relied on each other. Now, it seemed only right that they remained together on everything – one mind and body. Whatever Sammy did, it was as if she had done it and whatever she did, it was at if Sammy himself had been the one behind it all. Her fist connected with his shoulder – although gently – at his joke about her preferences. “No, you’re right, it’s fitting that you’re the one juggling. Balls have always been your thing.”

Coming out to Sammy had felt like taking a breath – easy and expected even with the knowledge that doing so was necessary for life. She had held it in for a while, sure, but just like breath, it was necessary and holding it caused damage. So, telling Sammy had been as much a necessity as it had been a relief. Though she had never thought that she would lose her cousin over something so trivial, well she also hadn’t wanted to assume that he would still look at her the same way. Yet, here they were, still a duo as close as ever.

Her nose scrunched at the idea that she would buy herself a dress. She would have to, Kartia knew that much, but she wasn’t going to like it. Who could honestly enjoy such things – such manners of dress? She truly had no idea, but it was what was expected. They were expected to attend this ball, Kartia would be expected to dance with a man, and she would be expected to attend wearing a lovely dress. All ridiculous.

Dread over a dress, however, was quickly washed away at the thought of scoring a heavier hit. Rapunzel’s palace seemed risky, but she supposed if they were careful…There wouldn’t be anyone to really tie all of it back to them, right? As long as they were careful with that, well maybe they could actually get away with it.

“Oh, yes please. I would do practically anything to get out of those stupid boarding houses. And everyone knows. It’s not as if people are staying there for any other reason. It’s expected that we learn to integrate into this society, yet we are sent away to a home that makes it very clear who we are. It’s impossible.” Not that she tried, but Kar would never give up an opportunity to rant, not when one presented itself so openly before her. “Let’s hope these keys go to somewhere good. We could use a good score.”

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Sammy had heard it all before; and though he understood her sentiment, he found he quite frankly didn’t care if people made him out to be the villain. If they likened him to his father before assessing his own character, well — his father was a great man. It was an honor to be considered in the same breath as him, even if his reputation preceded him. The fight between all that was good and all that was evil was well in the past, and if some didn’t wish to move past it and judge the Shadowborn by who they were today, then it was their business, of which Sammy didn’t go to the trouble of bothering himself with. He only wished the rest could say the same, but he knew Kartia had every right to disdain the target on their back that came with living in those boarding houses. 

People talked and stared. To anyone else but Sammy, it would prove most disconcerting, but he found he quite liked being looked at. 

“We’ll have to come up with a plan, of course. Going in blind wouldn’t do us well, especially not if we need to make a quick escape. All the royals were invited to stay in the castle, so we could try to get a bit friendly with one of them before the ball. Maybe have them show us around. We could play the ‘I’ve never seen a castle before,’ and if they take the bait then we’ll have a firsthand look at the grounds before everyone else.” Already Sammy’s mind was miles ahead of where they were, formulating a plan that would best suit the occasion. Many thought the boy dim, but when it came to scheming, he was well ahead of all the rest.  “Any royal pains you friendly with, Kar?”

[hcppilyevercfter]

oncemorewthfeeling​:

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀ 

Teddy loved the ocean. She often dreamt about it. About standing on the shoreline and collecting seashells. Minding her own buisness when suddenly? A ship appears in the distance. And as it comes closer, the black sails become visible. But instead of running away, she finds a lonely rowboat ashore and jumps in. Rows her way to the ship and climbs aboard. Not only is she welcomed by pirates, but the entire crew is women. Just like her, who want adventure and excitement. Who aren’t afraid to get a little dirty, and don’t judge her when she says she’d much rather be trouncing around in pants than in a dress.

But she always wakes up, and is reminded that it’s just a dream. 

Thinking about the dream, she didn’t even realize someone else was in the water, and at the voice Teddy turned. A smile crept across her face as she saw her friend. One of the only girls, in fact, that Teddy found she enjoyed spending time with. “Hattie!” She called out, looking around to see if anyone else had stumbled upon them before slipping off her shoes, gripping her dress, bringing the hem high above her knees and walking out in the water to join her friend. Her mother would kill her if she ruined this dress, so she made sure to keep the hem high. 

“I was hoping to see you! How have you been?” Grasping Hattie’s hand, Teddy tugged them towards the shore, letting her dress drop once they were on dry sand. “What have you been up to today? I got my hair braided.” She said, lifting up the thick braid. “I wish my mother would let me style it this way more often. It’s not as heavy as a usual updo, but it still keeps the hair away from my face and off my skin.”

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“Teddy!” her tone of voice was just as excited as the other girl’s, thanking the gods if anyone were to come across her in this state, it was the only other young lady Harriet actually felt comfortable with. A truer friend couldn’t exist like Teddy La Bouff, who had long ago won Hattie’s affections and offered many a respite at the numerous balls both would attend during the season. She knew she could count on Teddy to rescue her just at the right moment, knowing how to read her look of dread even through the most crowded of ballrooms. Grasping her friend’s hand, she allowed her to bring her to shore and gave it a gentle, friendly squeeze before it fell back to her side. 

“Your plait looks absolutely darling,” Hattie said, noting the way flowers were woven into her blonde tresses, appearing very much in the style of the Countess’s when she had first traveled to fair Corona. “I do say that it would be most appropriate to style it in this way for the ball later this week, don’t you think? How else to honor the Countess? I’m sure your Mama would agree.” Or so they could try to convince her; Charlotte La Bouff was just as meddlesome in her daughter’s affairs as her dear grandmother was in her own, so it would take a well-rehearsed argument, but the plait did suit Teddy beautifully. No one could deny her that. “I ran from the parade to find a moment of solace on my own, but I do always welcome your company. I’m glad you found me.”

Turning to look back towards the sea, an idea entered Hattie’s mind. “Say, it is a beautiful day, is it not? A day this nice would do only better if we set sail, don’t you agree, Captain Teddy?” They had no ship to man, but lively imaginations were boundless. There were no tethers to tie them where they stood if they only believed it so. “Where to first?” She peered out with a hand shielding her eyes from the sun, as if she stood overlooking from a much higher place, like aboard a ship’s deck. 

[hcppilyevercfter]

tag drop for laurence!!

[toriwright]

WHO: @hcppilyevercfter​ WHEN: may 27th, 1825, the second day of the festival

It was extremely strange to be a Shadow-born twenty-something in the real world for the first time. Carina was edging past the typical marriageable age and yet just had been presented to society for the first time. She was supposed to be seeking out a union, a household, a family, but mostly she was seeking out a clientele. She was too unknown to most, her family name carrying too much shame to allow for the benefit of the doubt, so she had to introduce herself to those who–regretfully– might not know any better. 

There was no reason to be nervous about it, she reminded herself. Girls here often sought each other out for companionship, for gossip, for business. It was just a matter of an introduction. She held the delicate skirts of her dress in one hand as she followed the crowd making its way towards the variety show performers. She was looking for something specific, a young girl all her lonesome, someone who could do with a companion. Someone who might be willing to introduce her to others, someone who would look good in both pastels and bright spring colors. 

She spotted just the person as a particularly brawny man took the stage, excusing herself profusely as she made her way towards the girl in question, whose features already had her dreaming up a cornflower blue gown with accents of gold that would look perfect on her– Rina cleared her throat politely and gestured to the empty space beside the blonde. “Is this seat taken? I confess, I’m new here and I don’t have anyone else to sit with. I’m Carina.”

[hcppilyevercfter]

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The few fleeting moments Hattie would find herself unaccompanied were far more precious than she’d ever admit to anyone aloud; always under the watchful gaze of Lady Vladimirovna  — or far worse, her grandmother — she wouldn’t mind it so if not the way they waited with bated breath on just what next she would do to disappoint them. It was quite tiring to hold on her shoulders expectations she herself never asked for. 

And so when the moment arose to relish in her own company, she quickly took the chance and attended the Variety Show, finding her own table and breathing out a breath of air she wasn’t sure for how long she held. Lady Vladimirovna could not fault her for this; she was partaking in the festivities, as she wished. Once it had started, Harriet clapped and laughed along to the talent upon the stage and hadn’t noticed someone standing by her table until a question drew her attention away. She almost lamented the interruption if not for noticing it was a girl around her age, who appeared only to want a place at the table. 

“Of course!” she said, her posture straightening as she gestured to the empty seat beside her. She certainly must’ve been new, if she wanted to sit with her. Many seldom did, if only because they deemed the Liddell girl too peculiar to keep as an acquaintance. Somewhere, in the pit of her stomach, she too worried this stranger would come to that conclusion. She dismissed the worry, choosing instead to deflect it with a smile. “I’m Hattie — er, well, Harriet, but you may call me Hattie,” she stumbled over words, knowing her grandmother would be chastising her for not introducing herself properly. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Allow me to first say that I adore your dress.” 

It was true; though Hattie and most dresses had a love-hate relationship, the style of Carina’s was unlike any she had seen before, the colors vibrant and deep, complimenting the complexion of her skin and making her appear even more, well.. beautiful. “This festival can appear daunting without the right company with which to share it with. I find it gets no easier, not even after attending it for so many years. How have you been faring so far?”