#tghtask3

[viviennedanceny-blog]

Vivienne thought she wouldn’t enjoy the festivity as much as she actually enjoyed it. She has had a good time, listening to the ladies gossip and men bragging about... Well, everything. It was quite amusing. She was sitting alone on the blanket, sipping her drink, and observing everyone, as she noticed someone approaching her. 

“Oh, please, do join me.” She said with a bright smile.

[sasha-ivanovich-blog]

counting the thousand little lies

Sasha watched the carriage carrying Ada to the Ainsworths with trepidation. It rolled around the long dirt road, then past the gates, and all at once disappeared— the green blur of distant trees left in its wake. Turning back from the window, he thought of how little progress he’d made with her, wondering if Ada was being sent to Jane Ainsworth by Sinclair to persuade her to marry a rich lord. It would be unlike Sinclair, who seemed obsessive in his preservation of Ada, but Sasha would be remiss if he didn’t consider all options.

Even with all options considered, he felt as hopeless as he had from the moment he first engaged Ada in conversation. But one couldn’t very well say well you see my mother was prone to fits of hysteria and my sister tortured me for her own amusement so you can guess why I’m not very good with women, could one?

When he thought about romancing, he thought about his mother when she was young— when things had been good, before the adultery and hysteria. Then he thought of his sister, married to a Polish count. He didn’t know the nature of their relationship but, knowing Natalia, it could not be pleasant. He wondered if she were the mistress of her own house, or if the count had forced her into a position of subservience.

Idly flipping the pages of the dictionary Sinclair had given him, reading but not reading, Sasha thought of the Lady Vivienne— what precisely had transpired between Sinclair and herself? When she had alluded to it, her face was carefully composed, but throughout their conversation Sasha could hear the tinge of loneliness in her voice. He felt a deep empathy for her, even if she was shrouded in mystery. He wanted to see her again, but he knew he should focus his attention on Ada. Still— Ada was a goal, not an object of any real interest.

He shook his head and closed the dictionary. There was work to be done. 

[viviennedanceny-blog]

The Pique-nique Preparation || Self-para.

Vivienne would be lying to say she wasn’t even a little excited for the out-of-door activity. She loved the nature dearly, social gatherings less so, but she was correct to assume she would enjoy the diversion. With her brother currently occupied, she had little distractions in such a large manor. It felt cold inside, even for the blooming Spring. 

She had her maiden fetch her the blue-and-green brocade dress she adored so much and, as she brushed her own hair (a task she found quite calming) decided to wear her brown locks down this time; let it tangle freely on the soft breeze. As her maid fasten the corset tightly in place, Vivienne adorned her right middle finger with a simple, golden ring, deciding it best to leave the gloves at home. 

It didn’t take her much time to get ready -- as far as dressing went. She wasn’t as ready seeing certain people she knew would be there. But, her eagerness for an out-of-door activity was too great to be dimmed by the sulking of her heart’s eternal struggle in it’s desire not to (or, more precisely, to) see the person who still held the majority of the broken shards of her heart at his mercy.  At least she hoped his ward would be there, and his secretary so she doesn’t have to pretend to like anyone else. Perhaps even ladies Ainsworth - they were tolerable as of late, and she found herself less falsely enjoying their company. (Something had to be done about that. She cared for too many people already, if you ask her. Her brother and lady Lockwood were more than sufficient as friends.)

But, she would think about all that later. Moonlight was already saddled and she was already fashionably late. She cannot possibly linger on any longer.  Throwing a last glance at her reflection in the large mirror, Vivienne hummed in approval, and headed for the door.

This shall be an interesting and eventful day.

[viviennedanceny-blog]

What is Love? || self-para

Vivienne had the nasty habit of dwelling too much on the past. Things that were, things that she wished to change, but hings which could no longer be. She knew it was pointless contemplating about the things she could never change, but occasionally... She would let herself be tormented by it. After all, if one does not dwell on the past, one cannot remember all the prospects which revenge, and future, holds. Vivienne was seated in her bedchamber, observing the world though her window, contemplating. 

This time, she’s decided to admit certain things to herself, and she knew it was not going to be easy.

This... Pique-nique was worrying her. She was to be seen there, which didn’t concern her, but he concerned her. She wasn’t foolish enough to hope he wouldn’t be there. Vivienne was, clearly, a masochist because a very large, but secret, part of her wanted to see him. She knew he was avoiding her; that was crystal clear. Often she tried to find a reason behind his actions, behind the decision to call off their engagement. 

Saying she wasn’t hurt was only a public farce, but in truth, Vivienne was hurt. Deeply, most ardently, hurt. She never realized her feelings for him were this strong. Even now, after she’s spent night and nights contemplating proper revenge, and assuring herself she never truly cared, never truly loved him, she was inclined to admit she did truly care, she did truly love him. He was the first person she ever even remotely felt something resembling romance (she did love her brother, but that was an entirely different sort of love).

She wondered if she could avoid the event. People would gossip, surely. She didn’t want to seem as if she was truly touched by their horribly ghastly gossip, but she also didn’t really know if she wanted to see him. Of course he will be there. His ward might be there as well, and she did long to see her. If only the weather turned dreadful, if only the skies fell down to the earth, if only she wasn’t as hurt by his avoidance. 

No, it has been decided. Vivienne would be damned first if she would make this easier on him as well. She had her entertainment there -- yes, she guessed his secretary would also be there. Perhaps, if she was to pretend she feels nothing for him (like she is already doing. Everyone would pity her if they knew the truth, even Peter, and she hated being pitied.) would be a sufficient consolation, rather than eternal heartache and the remains of her heart, laying in her chest in pieces, hurting like sharp shards of glass, tearing at her insides whenever she would see him or think of him.

Yes, she will take her vengeance. She will pretend, she will smile, she will subtly flirt, be even kinder to his ward, even though she did love the girl so. Yes, she will endure. Even if she is breaking inside.

[sophieainsworth-blog1]

Sophie’s diary entry, the day after Matthew announced his intentions for her hand. 

[theglowinghours-rp-blog]

TASK THREE---

                                          ❝ When Love speaks, the voice of all the gods                                               Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. ❞

With romance in the air, one tends to reflect on one’s formative experiences with love. For our third task, we request that you describe your character’s first love. This could be in the form of a diary entry, a self-para, or by any other mechanism-- the more creative, the better. Worried that your muse hasn’t had romantic experience? Fear not! You’re free to write an AU or simply what their fantasy is for their first loves.

This task has been set to you on Sunday, April 24th, and will be open for a week’s time. Please tag this with #tghtask and #tghtask3.