#littlebertietoldme

[thorneheir]

CLOSED STARTER | @littlebertietoldme LOCATION | THORNE HOUSE

Even though he’d toned down since last season, there was a lot about Tobias that stayed the same. He was still a rake, still acted before he thought and didn’t care what it meant to his family's reputation. The only thing that had changed was that he was willing to play the part of an heir.  Or was only a little bit. He knew he’d have to be discreet with a lot of his behaviour or someone he cared about would pay a dangerous price but that was it for his limitations. 

Discretion was the most important. He knew he’d have to look like he was being a reformed gentleman to everyone, including those in Thorne house, and he didn’t want to give up any part of himself so found it better to do what he wanted while everyone was asleep. Sneaking in was fine, he was getting used to doing it in English society again and thought he’d managed to get through most of the house undetected when he turned a corner and came across Albert and jumped in surprise. “My God, Bertie, do you not sleep?” he says attempting a whisper but knows its louder than he wants it to be. “What on Earth are you doing near my chamber this late?” He thinks the time is way past midnight but not morning and thought that he’d timed his return before any of the staff woke up. “Or early? I don’t know.”

[lavieenton]

|| closed starter || Bertie || @littlebertietoldme

|| LOCATION || St. James Park

Everything about nature soothed Ceara. It was predictable, made sense, didn’t speak unless it had something important to say about its surroundings. She let out a deep sigh as she sat on the bench, trying to gather her bearings after quite the troubling day. Troubling wasn’t exactly the word for it, but her heart had been hammering for the better part of an hour after speaking with Dominic, so for her, it was trouble. He always brought it when he was around, granted he hadn’t been for nearly two decades.

And she hated that she was sure of what she was feeling: love, hatred, anger, relief. It was all so complicated and dreadful. She hated being dreadful, preferred to be mean and uncaring about her own desires unless they benefited her career.

As she continued to revel in her complicated feelings, she noticed someone else sitting on the bench and blinked. She was too wrapped up in her thoughts to even realize there was another person around, let alone that she’d sat on the bench with them. “Oh, I am so sorry. Are you waiting for someone? I can move.”

[lavieenton]

|| closed starter || @littlebertietoldme || Bertie

|| LOCATION || The Bartholomew Fair

Genevieve grumpily sat on a bench just near the fair's entrance. Her back rested against the old, creaky wood, and her lower lip was jutted into a pout. Meanwhile, her guard was standing just behind her with his lips pressed into a firm line. Agitation controlled through stillness and silence.

They had argued. The princess was not willing to leave, while the guard insisted she had to return to the palace before midnight. But that meant the night would be officially ending. And as childish as it appeared, she wasn't willing to leave from the bench. No matter how much he asked or pleaded with her.

Before this occurred, Genevieve purchased a small box of desserts. Little things of fried dough twisted in a shape and covered in warmed sugar. She'd eaten one before the argument began, and now, they were only a reminder that a new day would arrive.

But the smell of cigarettes forced her head to turn in the direction, seeking the source. A man stood there, seemingly unbothered, and releasing his stressors through the small stick. She admired him, strangely. His nonchalant stance, the ability to pretend the world around him was moving at his pace, not the other way around.

Silently, she stood and approached him, holding out the box of pastries. "Hello," she greeted solemnly. "I wanted to offer these to you. I do not need them, but they are fresh and only one is missing. Will you accept for me?"