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hood feet!
@notwiilliam
There are circumstances in life in which we prefer words to deeds. An arrest on foreign soil being one of them.
Standard protocol - at least for Lupin - is to try and escape the plasticuffs (easy to overcome with the correct application of will.)
Instead, a buckle of laughter loosens and expands inside their chest as the tourist is led down the gleaming corridor, quickly proceeded with an error-free rendition of La Marseillaise.
The residents respond with profane chorus from behind each of the heavy iron doors. He is shown to the quietest, and locked inside.
in england quite a few suffragettes were veggie because they were recommended to take the meat-free options in prison since the meat was really not that great and probably cat or nose or whatever.
i’m gonna have to research a bit more about women’s emancipation in france but basically i’d like to think lupin’s diet is not just about health and maybe a bit about indirectly fist-pumping for the movement? he’s the most left-from-centre character in edwardian literature that i can think of, and maybe he’s gotten involved now and then, leading the police on a goose-chase whilst ladies need to hell-raise or make a quick escape?
belgravianbitch
Coming in from an afternoon appointment to find a gift waiting in her atelier was a rather splendid end to a wonderful day. Pulling at the ribbon with deft fingers, The Woman lifted out the exquisitely unusual disciplinary tool, turning it over in her hands with a thoughtful hum before she opened the card. Taking note, she pondered what the paddle had to do with the proposition. As she was under no clear instruction to bring it, the toy seemed to be little more than a gift to sweeten her temperament and lead to a positive answer. Sitting at her desk, she penned the reply in her elegant calligraphy, handing it to her manservant to deliver. Mssr. Lupin; How can I refuse such a beautiful gift? Do let me know the time and how much (or little) I should be wearing. I understand you are aware of my fee. The pleasure, I fear, will be entirely my own. Yours, Irene Adler
The message reached Felix Pascoe by text from a girl on a street corner, holding a stolen letter. He was a young man of smart appearance, still steaming from a recent shower.
And he would reply to her in person. Icons are better bibles for the more observant. And better bibles.
He rang her bell at Nine in a white tie and black gloves, which was more than he'd worn when she was flogging him this morning.
“Cover all the bases. I have faith in your armoire. The pay-off? I would wager half a million.”
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Get to Know the Mun: Repost not Reblog
tagged by @holmescouture
Name Hood Pronouns She/Her/It Sexuality Lesbian Taken or single? Single
Five Facts
I am a moderately tol 5′11″ I watch WWE religiously and unironically I lived in France for a semester and still can’t speak the language I’m vegan (Sorry--) I’m covered in bug bites right now
Experience
How long? 7 years? Platforms used? Facebook, Reddit, Skype, BBM(Shh), Tumblr Best Experience? Hard to say but I think my writing has improved a lot since dipping into the tumblr community. So glad I stuck around.
Muse Preferences
Male or Female? On here it tends to be male but that’s due to a combination of the tumblr rp mentality and my lack of confidence. Favourite Face? Joaquin Phoenix(!!!), Grigoriy Dobrygin, Noomi Rapace, Daniel Brühl, Romola Garai Least Favourite Face? Musicians, Evan Peters, Most of the Vampire Diaries--I don’t know, I don’t HATE any face-claim. I just don’t like people that are overused or who don’t match the character IMO Fluff, Angst, or Smut? Weird objective dislocated modernist intervals where I just describe the scenery and viewable actions for ten paragraphs (Also Fluff) Plots or Memes? Both, all, memes that turn into plots, plots that turn into memes etc. Long or short replies? Whatever I’m/you’re comfortable giving you/me Best time to write? It’s never a good time Are you like your muse? No I.. I drink too much.. And don’t use exclamation marks for every sentence IRL
Tagging This blog is still young so--you there. You’re cool. You have my consent to steal this.
faintfragility
“I think it depends on the situation and circumstance,” she spoke, pausing from sipping her wine to reply to him. The party had been going so well, and she was delighted to be seated quite far away from her husband, and revelled in it more by the way her view of him was blocked by a silver sculpture of his ancestor. Consuelo found the Viscount’s conversation stimulating, much more than she could say for the other gentlemen seated in the table, who deemed it unnecessary for women to engage in such talks. “I agree; we make truths complicated because of our inability to comprehend it.”
“You've never found the least difficulty in it, I should think." He answered warmer than he ought in the presence of a husband - currently elbow-deep in gravy - but as she spoke intelligently, and with a smile, then the Viscount had a duty to return one of equal gratitude. “Tell me about the West. That is a nice warm subject and London leaves me so cold.”
“Participating in Society in not a thing one can do naturally; one has to rehearse for it.
Michel Faber, The Crimson Petal and the White (via fascinatedmiseducated)
@ofearls | starter call
He is young and old and stylish and dismounts his bicycle with the jaunt of a man who has not just cycled the expanse of two acres. Raol d’Andesy is a duke by his own account, and by the Echo de France’s attestations, a most agreeable eccentric.
“I prefer to travel light. It imbues one with an immense appreciation for necessity. And how necessary it is for me to thank you for your friendship and your hospitality!” He takes the Earl’s outstretched hand in both of his and shakes it graciously. “I must repay you at a later date.”
@holmescouture | starter call
Every moment in their company is a moment of a plan unravelling. Dispersed plasma, stars, fisticuffs, the dark era, stretching onto infinity. Every moment here is a moment the universe, the universe of probability, expands.
Deep time.
“Monsieur Maxime Bermond, Misser Sherlock Holmes,” Their Host announces with lyrical precision. Face to face, Monsieur adjusts instantaneously to the situation. He smiles jovially and extends his right hand, concealed in black cotton gloves, to take and kiss the back of theirs.
written by hood.