Aeterna Imber

"Chut, chut, ma peu de lumière! Sois patient et attends Pour le jour où tu rentreras chez, tu seras Au le paradis de l'or..." {Indie RP Blog for AU Julien/"Glen" Baskerville} {M!A: Genderbent for 2+ weeks.}

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Here comes the bear! (Who'd've known he could blush like that?) Eager twilight eyes search to and fro; he's looking for his beloved Juliette, hoping that she'll find him at least presentable--after all, he spent all day trying on outfit after outfit in the hopes of choosing something she'd really like. "Ma bien-aimée," he calls out softly, "I... am ready. I hope... it's to your liking--?"

{♔} Who knew a young lady would need to dedicate an entire afternoon to acclimation towards the oddest contraption in women’s fashion: the side hoops! Absolutely flummoxed by the curious addition to her wardrobe, Juliette set herself pacing to and fro in her quarters — one must wonder how she avoided wearing a hole in the bedroom floor with her hurried steps — until she felt quite confident in walking gracefully with the panniers. 

(Slipping into the formal gown but a short time after seems the easiest task in comparison!)

"Mon amour," she coos upon catching sight of him. Dainty hands cannot stay themselves from smoothing her cumbersome skirts. Ah, but her Oswald will never be anything short of handsome in her eyes, and she wastes no time at all gliding to his side.

"You are most dashing, my dear… Ah! But I do believe your cravat has already indulged in a glass of wine this evening. It has gone rather astray!"

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Juliette's dress for the ball~

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In shuffles Oswald, whistling softly. If one listens closely enough, it's a wren's song, and--with a delighted smile on his face--he comes up behind his dearest and wraps his arms about her waist.

{♔} Though she breathes out the softest, ‘Oh!’ once pulled from her morning reverie, Juliette relaxes at once and leans back into his embrace.

(A satisfied — if not curious — little hum.) “Are you calling me, Oswald?"

[vorsichtig]

⊰♚⊱ And suddenly, Oswald’s run out of reasons to harrumph; with Juliette’s appearance, they’ve become reasons to smile instead.

(And smile he does!)

“Ma belle reine!" (Over lopes the bear.) “How are you, my Juliette?"

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{♔} Oh, but his smile can be nothing short of charming, and even that endearing little trot earns him an earful of her laughter.

"Yes, yes," she murmurs gently. Oswald has always addressed her rather...uniquely. "I am quite well, my dear. And you? Such an expression you were wearing but a few moments ago!"

[vorsichtig]

⊰♚⊱ Harrumphing about.

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{♔} Harrumphing can be quite unbecoming, you know.

[vorsichtig]

⊰♚⊱ Sees Juliette on his dash.

Wheezes with tender emotions.

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{♔} Who knew bears could wheeze?

"Are you quite all right, Oswald?"

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♔} "Good morning, everyone. I do hope you all slept pleasantly."

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♔} It looks as though there are quite a few new visitors to the manor this evening—

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“Miss…” those eyes…why did they seem so familiar? Somehow she was sure she’d seen them before, but for the life of her that Charlotte couldn’t figure out who she was and why those eyes made the hairs of her nape stand up.

“I’m sorry, but if you have a meeting with master Glen, he is not here right now.”

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♔} Oh? What a beautiful young woman.

And yet how curious her hair color appears to Juliette. Canting her head to the side with a gentle movement, she casts a friendly gaze upon Charlotte and smiles warmly.

As if it were woven of roses, ones whose petals fall between those of red and those of soft pink...a blossom not yet found in nature.

A quiet chuckle. "No, I do not." Perhaps one might hear the lightest touch of amusement in her voice. "May I ask your name, my lady?"

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♔} It looks as though there are quite a few new visitors to the manor this evening--

[blackhairandgoldenirises]

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Juliette Baskerville.

Like the heavenly flecks of golden light that blessed her body, her beauty could shine through the deepest of darkness, like a beacon stretching out to an endless canvas of sorrow. She is known as the beacon for the crimson clan known as the Baskervilles.

Keep a close eye on her. For like the dancing lights that freely floated through the air, her light could vanish at any moment, as if she never existed in this world at all. 

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♔} Juliette Baskerville

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dual--contractor said: He could feel the blush increasing on his face at the woman’s tone; yep, he was in trouble, “I want to.. get a flower for someone I love and— I don’t know the language of flowers… so…” Just gonna look down now.

♔} "A flower, sir...?"

Perhaps there is little better one can do to smooth over past matters with Miss Juliette Baskerville than mentioning one of her passions and enthusiasms: le langage des fleurs. Crossing willowy arms over her bosom, the young woman regards him with a curious look.

"If you wish to ask my assistance on this matter, you must inform me of the message you want most to convey."

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Time for the Ballantyne to totter into the room awkwardly. A slight shift-- and a flustered mumble before, "C-Can I ask.. for your help..?"

♔} Though one might consider young Miss Juliette kind and forgiving to a fault, she cannot quite forget this disrespectful gentleman from their previous encounter. While not unfriendly, she does come across as a bit more curt than usual.

"I may not be of any assistance to you, but you may ask, sir."

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Time to come dashing over to his precious Juliette, skitter to a stop beside her, peck her delightedly on the cheek, and then (after a mischievous sidewise glance!) head for the garden at a healthy gallop. It's a silent invitation: 'Come play with me!'

♔} “Oh!” she breathes in surprise when her dear one nearly slides into her, bumping just so into her hip. Juliette laughs in that airy way of hers as he leans over to kiss her cheek and scampers off, a hand lifting to cup the side of her face as she watches him vanish in the direction of the garden.

Whatever shall I do with you…

With a gentle smile gracing her lips, the young woman begins to skirt her way out on to the grounds in leisurely pursuit.

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caetus-rex

plorabilis

antepono

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      He’d let his cries rise, as the basket he resided in on the side of the road rocked. He was trying to escape! Though he was nestled so tightly in all of these blankets tat it made it a bit hard to do so… The abandoned baby let himself be known, though, by crying harder.

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♔} "By the hallowed light...!"

Juliette crouches beside the abandoned basket and gives the woven container a quick once over. No note, no name, no identifying documents of any kind, and no reason to cast out such a helpless babe -- and by the road, no less! And, but oh, how the poor child cries--!

She hushes him gently, and with careful hand she lifts him from the basket.

Softly. "Chut, chut...do not cry, little one, hm?"

[sehntet-deactivated20140213]

⊰ ☪ ⊱  ”You certainly have fine taste!” She says, noting the elegant wedding gown in Juliette’s arms. 

Lacie beckons her inside with a benevolent smile, scooting over to the side of the room where a folding panel stood, removing the numerous dresses that sat draped over it. (Funny how she had so many of them, yet she was always one for simplicity).

“Please do go ahead,” she says, dropping them down on her bed in a small heap. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

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♔} "Merci beaucoup," Juliette murmurs shyly, the warmth in her honeyed voice evident as she shuffles oh so carefully through the open door into Lacie's room.

"Oh, no, no. You need not trouble yourself on my account--" The young woman's gentle protestations dissolve into the air and vanish almost as soon as she speaks them. To argue with a lady possessing the fearsome will of Lacie Baskerville is a fool's errand, and thus Juliette quickly falls into silence and allows her companion to continue clearing the space.

"I trust you have been faring well as of late, ma amie?" she inquires, nodding politely as she trades places with the noirette and steps behind the folding screen.