i can be your vexation .

[cabellrosa]

"I shall welcome that day with open arms like any other," he replies, looking at his friend with sweetness. He poses a fair point however, and feels himself sighing the way he's seen his parents do when deciding what behavior to reward. "But perhaps not all of the ton is as keen on you as I am," Cabell chuckles. "See how easily you can make your dear friend blush?"

[noblefavor]

"Have you thought of what you'd like your tomb to read? Something poetic? No, allow me to correct myself. Romantic." Sydney jests. He leans to swipe a swig of his scotch, then considers the honeyed liquid for a moment. "Let us not lie to each other," Sydney scoffs, another sip before the glass reunites with the table. What did he care of the rest of the ton's distaste? Respectable men of marrying age participated in the ton eagerly, but Sydney never aspired to respectability. It was written in his stars despite every breath of his might. "Far too easily, old chap." A mischievous grin in place, Sydney tugs on Cabell's necktie to loosen just enough to be noticeable, but not salacious. "Go on, then." Retracting his hand, he now gesticulates that Cabell reaches his point. "You were saying, Ecuador, wagons, dragons?"

[fredy-carter]

Ben Barnes as Billy Russo The Punisher 1.03

[countenanced]

– "WELL, I WAS GRACIOUS ENOUGH NOT TO OFFER CRITICISM on your wordplay, but since you've brought it up . . . " she remarks, the sharpness of her tone betrayed by the slightest muscle twitch at the curve of her lips, an almost-smile. he is, at least, amusing. " so, you disagree, then ? " she tilts her head up at him. " you believe that you're responsible company for a lady ? "

[noblefavor]

"You haven't given me a chance to impress you," he counters, confident he would survive her 'criticism' as unscathed as he stands before her now. "Shall I nurse both of these glasses, and the duty of my supervision befalls you, then you may sooner make that determination yourself." Challenge rather than interest holds him in place, a ponderous sweep over her stony expression. "But, for all company, Lady Zhang, I assure you I am a lot of fun. You do know what that is, don't you, or am I thinking of your sister?"

[seatiides]

rubbing her freely released arm, the smile too apparent on soft features at the impromptu adventure, whisper lingering in the doorframe. ❛ would you not also think your lord father's intended purposes of any east wing rooms to perhaps not be ones of hideouts ? ❜ nor any room on the estate, for that matter. vivid imagination could only run wild at rationales behind his sudden scamp - like demeanor, although she does sweep into the fatefully selected study hiding not only themselves from hawking eyes of poor, poor new staff arrival that surely knows of infamous lord of durham behaviors, but hiding soft giggle as well. dare not let it out in faux fear of revealing sydney's position. ❛ might i inquire about the reason behind such efforts at disappearance on your part, matey ? is it some debauchery catching up to your flair, or are overseas promises reprimands the fearsome culprit this time ? ❜ excitement palpable in the questions. lords and formalities evaporate when eyes of society aren't surrounding them. ever two children growing alongside each other. but really, would it be so dramatic to introduce himself to the new attendant ? alice doubts so.

[noblefavor]

"Why else have so many rooms, Miss Kang?" Sydney counters. "His lordship may only occupy one room at a time." As of late, Lord Cholmondeley frequented his own quarters, and Lady Cholmondeley only left him unattended when coaxed by staff. A man who could reign in Sydney with a look of metal or a harsh grasp on his collar could now barely tip a cup of water to his own mouth. Being caught by his father was the least of Sydney's worries, though such a mindset was created out of self-preservation rather than arrogance. His companion glides through the doorframe in like a cloud of rosy perfume, and Sydney quietly seals them in the study. Alice must be accustomed to decades worth of unearthing secret treasures in this room. Absent counterfeit jewels or gold coins, Sydney's most valuable offerings are his secrets. No one in all of Britain was privy to details willingly divulged to Alice. "That's captain to you," Sydney corrects childishly. Perhaps it is the circumstance and not the company that reverts him to such a state. "Worse, I'm afraid. My father is preparing." For what, Sydney doesn't disclose. It knots in his throat. "And so my parents hired attendants to surveil me. I, in the prime of my life, must find a bride this season before I acquire my inheritance. The duties, the estate, heirs of my own." He's particularly bitter about the last one. "All of it."

[henry-etta]

"I'll remember that next time I'm at tea," she threatens, but they both know she'll keep any barbs like that to herself, lest she risk ruffling feathers more than she already does, or worse, harming the feelings of a lovely woman. She mouths an oops, realizing she had in fact forgotten the instruction as she follows him to the table and smooths down her hair again. "Boredom," Etta answers plainly, clasping hands behind her back and knocking shoulders with his. "I wouldn't dream of bolstering your ego any further by insinuating I have much need to spend time with you, rather that I had little else to do." And yet, when she was restless and itching for company, his was the first face she ran to. "I arrived at your door and a footman informed me you were back here working," she explains, letting her gaze drift over the various tools and supplies, raising a quizzical brow. "What exactly is it you're working on?"

[noblefavor]

"I dare you," Sydney retorts, aware that it wouldn't be beneficial for either of them. "I'll gladly entertain a room full of beautiful women." Any discussion of him as their topic of choice, for better or for worse, exhilarates his ego. The worst shove from the pint-sized duchess wouldn't jostle him, but he shifts his weight to another foot with contact. "Bored? Have your friends bolted their doors at the sight of you?" Sydney returns the knock. "And what of Edith? Or was it Caroline this week?" The chisel in hand, he inspects its sharpness. It is hard to believe that God created neanderthals adept with such tools when Sydney feels daft just holding it. "First, details of this project remain between us. You mustn't tell even Gabriela. Swear it."

[jvneite]

at the bright age of twenty eight she's sat through so many events and soirees much like the poetic torture they're having to endure at present. maddie is gazing out across the room with a carefully practiced face of neutrality, a gift she learned early from her mother, when a glass is held out to her. she draws back, eyeing the glass being suspended in the air, eyes traveling up the length of the arm attached to it towards the face that possesses it. "that's awfully presumptuous of you." slowly, she reaches out to pluck the glass from his hand, careful not to brush his hand with hers while sporting the improper absence of gloves. "i think one's willingness to perform poetry with embarrassing passion is a fair judgement of character. humility is a fine quality that few possess..." her eyes look over the details of his face, almost displeased with the fact that he is (in a certain light) very easy on the eyes. "and other's should learn."

[noblefavor]

"Your royal highness," Sydney greets. What a fortuitous surprise to find her without guards sniffing around her skirts like bloodhounds. Had he known that fate would hand him this gilded opportunity, he, emboldened, would have presented a grander gesture than merely passing along a drink. After dipping into a brief bow, he conceals his surprise with trained deference for her presence, beholding to beauty he's never observed so closely. The royal family was as useless as the statues littered throughout the park, nonetheless sculpted by a careful deity's hand. "Lord Cholmondeley of Durham." A palm offered to her, and it is then he realizes that a brush of their fingers would contact her bare skin to another's, forming a scandal in prying societal eyes. "For I am not so lucky at this moment," Sydney acknowledges with a performance of his apparently absent humility, complete with downcast eyes and a singular self-effacing laugh. "In another life I've kissed your hand." Doesn't retract his hand with haste, but he doesn't dare reach for hers. Sydney rather enjoyed his head square on his shoulders. Feigning obliviousness to her scrutiny, he squints through veiled sun rays to the hearty poet, who is so moved by his own verses he verges on tears. "Is it truly so easy? Can lessons of humility reach such a high vantage point?" Sydney dares to carry the implication for it to settle, before brandishing it with a grin. "Or are England's best tutors at fault for my own presumptive character?"

[cabellrosa]

"I suppose we may never find out," Cabell teases, alluding to Sydney's inability to hold a relationship as he raises a brow at Laurie. "If by dalliance, you two mean a rousing night of conversation, laughter, and wits, you can count me in," he smiles broadly, clapping them both on the shoulder. "You know, I do believe with some convincing Jameson could be open to a poetry reading."

@barouche

[barouche]

"and god forbid we ever do. i pity the poor soul who is so unfortunate as to marry this man." he claps a hand on sydney's shoulder, affectionate in his teasing. "poetry, rosa?" the look he gives over sydney's shoulder is appalled, nearly pale. "my god, it is worse than i thought. can we not tempt you to cards at least?"

@noblefavor

[noblefavor]

"You're right, he possesses my loyalty in full," Sydney quips to Cabell. Grin widening, the young lord shifts his aim to Laurie. "And of you, Lord Montford? Are you not looking for a third failed betrothal?" Sydney hadn't ground to stand on, but he never promised marriage to his dalliances. Whoever deluded themselves of that speared themselves with their own hands, the young lord's were clean. "I would sooner drown myself than sit through another poem," he responds fondly to his mate. "Set down your quill and join Laurie in losing a rousing round of cards."

@cabellrosa

[enheriter]

❛    your  thoughtfulness  is  much    appreciated.    ❜    the  proffered  wine  glass  is  unexpected,    but  he  does  not  let  it  go  ignored:    dexterous  fingers  too  gleefully  and  too  quickly  takes  the  given  vice,    downing  it  quickly  not  for  fear  of  the  forthcoming  bad  performance,    but  more  as  a  way  to  steel  his  nerves  for  socialisation.    ❛    though  truthfully  you  underestimate  my  tolerance  for  poor  quality,    ❜    he  says.    ❛    the  amount  of  poor  music  performances  i’ve  had  to  sit  through…    ❜    voice  trailing  off,    content  to  leave  the  horror  in  implication.

[noblefavor]

"You've made a rare accusation, Oxford" Sydney chuckles with amusement. "But I suppose you bring it out of me." Soon his fingers pinch empty air as the glass is nicked from his hands, and Sydney is impressed by the duke's speed. His freed hand rakes through his dark mop, any previous attempt of smoothing damned by the motion. "Shall I suggest that the hostess slip one of your compositions to this evening's musicians? The sooner your tolerance wears thin, the sooner we may empty the servers' trays and get out of here."

[mccnbeam]

Devika accepts the drink with momentary consideration of the offeror, appreciative of a break from the monotony of the evening, yet skeptical of the asserted claim. "It's too easy to mock the sincere," she tips the glass against her lips, though she knows the punch at these parties is never quite strong enough for her taste. "The more ambitious gentleman mocks himself. Even Shakespeare slotted poets alongside lovers and lunatics, controlled by their own delusions."

[noblefavor]

"Sincerity does not offend me," Sydney declares, half truthful. He expected to build shallow camaraderie, but he isn't wholly ill-equipped for her intellect. "And I thought I was rather tactful for the poor quality of this verse. I prefer my poetry with greater habitation and naming." Another's company would have called for Sydney to reveal a deep loathing of poetry. But for her, he reaches for the line referenced from A Midsummer Night's Dream for the first time since Eton, feeling accomplished that it wasn't washed away by other pursuits. He takes a measured swallow, gauging her reaction from over the rim of his glass. "Do you consider yourself a poet?"

[cabellrosa]

"It was a wagon, but I will forgive you this once," he chuckles, though he's forgiven Sydney's lapses of attention, judgement, and character more times than he can count. "You're too predictable," Cabell sighs, taking a sip from his drink and shaking his head. "Shall I loosen my neck-tie in order to reign in your concentration?"

[noblefavor]

"Your kindness shall crush you one day, dear friend," Sydney muses, drawing both of his elbows atop the table separating them. "Why would I change if I am to be forgiven?" Instead of the petticoats or the fine gentlemen lining the bar, Cabell possesses his attention now. "Don't stop there. You've a handsome clavicle." Already a failed attempt to bed Cabell lies between them, but he will bite the bait if the other man dangles it in his face.

[countenanced]

– "LORD CHOLMONDELEY," AMELIA GREETS. though amicable, she's sizing him up with her eyes, which linger with judgement on the bruises on his neck. maybe it's not proper for a lady to look on someone of his rank with certain discernment, but he makes it far too easy . . . " that's quite alright. i've already had a drink tonight, " she declines. " besides, i hardly think you qualify as proper supervision. "

[noblefavor]

"Lady Zhang," Sydney echoes with imperceptible mocking, unfazed by the discerning touch of her eyes. "And why is that? I've hardly done more than offer sharper wordplay than rhyming blue with Montague." Her presence is preceded by a formidable reputation among bachelors in this Season's ton — but the same could be said for him. He retracts the offered vice, but his head tilts. Of course he noticed, that she noticed something is amiss under his cravat. "Unless your mind is elsewhere."

[barouche]

"so, gentleman," laurie uses the term loosely for his companions — perhaps cabell fits that bill, but he and sydney both were less than desirable companions aside from their titles. "what sort of trouble do you envision for us this evening? perhaps white's?"

@noblefavor @cabellrosa

[noblefavor]

"Jameson, to whom I am most faithful. What shall he do when I am off the market?" Syd sighs factitiously. "A final dalliance before the ton begins hurts no one. Least of all the lord of roses."

@cabellrosa

[noblefavor]

location: cholmondeley estate @wcndrlnds

"Bloody —," Sydney gathers his good graces to leave the swear unfinished. In Alice's company, there is not such a thing as too comfortable, but he would never affront her ears with such boorish language. Bloody damnation. He halts their path down the corridor, unfortunately rupturing a pleasant thread of conversation, and his hand circles Alice's wrist, ducking into the nearest hallway with his companion in tow. "I think my father's hired an attendant," he whispers once concealed in shadow. "And I have been avoiding him all morning. Espionage never suited — quick, in here." Sydney twists the knob to his father's study, always unlocked, and flings the door open. He releases Alice, cognizant that he mustn't drag her against her wishes, but lingers in the doorframe to allow her a moment to enter before him.

[henry-etta]

Etta's brow furrows furiously, knowing in her heart of hearts that he's only messing with her, but unable to stop that from pressing her buttons the way only someone like him can. "Surely, you have my voice mistaken with that of some other less charming duchess. Lord knows you have countless ladies' voices to recollect from that ancient memory of yours— though I would have thought mine your favorite and most memorable, so I must admit this is a blow to our friendship. Best not to expect a birthday present this year," she finishes, finally ending her verbal tirade and grabbing the mallet. Etta bends into view this time, passing him the tool along with a bright grin. "Good afternoon, dear Sydney, it is a smiling pleasure to see you."

[noblefavor]

He chuckles that she fell into his snare. "Now, now, why must you involve the Duchess of Windsor?" It isn't out of kindness that calls Sydney to defend the gauche duchess. With all due respect, she is one of the last voices that would echo in his head, but the first duchess who fit that description. "The rest are not quite as shrill." He reckons his banter with Etta was identical to exchanges between siblings. Though they shared not blood, Sydney found in her glimpses of his younger self. Sydney accepts the mallet from her grasp, ruffling Etta's shaggy head now that she's in his reach. "Good afternoon, duchess of Knighton. If you harkened my words, you would have known I also asked for my chisel, too." Sydney hangs his head and sighs as a colossal inconvenience burdened his shoulders. God forbid he raises a finger. Sydney rises from his kneeled position and saunters off to the table adorned with a spread of tools. "To what do I owe the gift of your company, hm? I've no shillings on my person but I'm quite a good shot if there is someone I must hunt down."

[cabellrosa]

@noblefavor , sydney ; location: white's club

"You know, you really must— Are you listening, Sydney?" Cabell stops halfway through his sentence, realizing he's talking to the air, or perhaps any other gentlemen walking by in the club who would seem to have more of an attention span than his dear supposed friend. "Honestly, Sydney, are you so bored from the lack of skirts or fresh meat around that you can't even listen to your friend's exploits of Ecuador?"

[noblefavor]

"Of course, Cabell, of course, how dare you suggest I've not?" Sydney lies. "I listen to all you say. Right, right, Ecuador, Spanish seas, you just were speaking of a dragon — and now I'm preoccupied by the lack of skirts about, since you've mentioned it. Thanks a lot."

[noblefavor]

location: hyde park for: open!

Winding the menagerie of shaped hedges, Sydney finally joins the fringes of the crowd with ease, passably indecent in his attire, stature holding confidence that courts offense. Shortened breath passes for haste, flushed cheeks for summer's inferno, and Sydney could defeat the world's greatest magician at an act of quick-change. A hand attempts to tame his hair from its handsome disarray while the other tucks his cravat over the bruises trailing his neck. Straightening his posture, Sydney clears his throat, and lifts two glasses from a passing server's tray. He is never lonesome for long (even tousled, it is easy to see why), but the thrill lies in the hunt rather than the prize. "You may require this to survive the night," Sydney confides in the person nearest to him, dropping his voice as if sharing his darkest secret. He extends a glass to the other along with the offer of more entertaining conversation. "The hostess is rather fond of inviting poets to perform recitations, and I fear we all are not as gifted as Shakespeare with a quill pen."

[henry-etta]

"If you had waited one more tiresome second instead of rudely interrupting, you would have heard quite a lovely greeting," Etta retorts, a pout on her lips— though he can't even see it— as she reaches for the mallet. "This one?"

[noblefavor]

"From whom?" Sydney scoffs. "Certainly not you. I knew not you were capable of loveliness." Few received Sydney's jests underscored with good nature, but he finds humor in the childish faces that the younger lady pulls. He swipes a palm over the grooved surface he was inspecting before her rude interruption, wood imprinting his calloused palms. "It should be the only one there, dodger, you can't miss it."