#verosia

[2manykeys]

Demon dude who spends all his time on earth obsessing over headwear and other jock things

[battleworn2]

*  EDITH GLADSTONE  ‣  (@verosia)

MEME: I believe my reputation can withstand it.

Augustus watches the Ton like a hawk watches its prey. Tossed unceremoniously into this unfamiliar world he managed to land on both feet without so much as stumbling, as if he was born for more than even this. He spent nights studying, learning everything that he neglected in favor of metal work the first quarter of his life. The names of the most powerful, the relationships they share. He mapped out a plan from nothing more than overheard conversations and an understanding of the way the Ton moves amongst one another.

It takes little more than her ramrod spine to send up warning signals, muscles tensed and ready to take flight. August does not meddle in the affairs of others, possessing both little interest and patience, but it takes little convincing for him to meddle in this. He cannot help but be reminded of Alessa, forced to dance until her toes bruised with men with little regard for others. He is interrupting before his brain can catch up and though he apologizes to Giles, his eyes darken, indicating that August has left no room for discussion. 

“Your reputation will not recover from another scandal, Somers,” Giles spits, cheeks reddening and forehead vein protruding. August, bored, wipes the back of his hand across his cheek as if wiping spit away. “I believe my reputation can withstand it,” he responds quietly, deadly. The men stare at each other but just another moment before August falls into place, picking up the dance as if solving an equation. Though he attempts to soften his features, he knows that the darkness lingers. “Miss Gladstone, I thought you might be in need of rescuing,” August says softly, as if trying not to scare away a frightened bird. “Apologies if I overstepped.”