ššĀ Ā ĖĀ Ā ā¹Ā Ā š ššššššššš : Ā no matter what , you will always be a diamond to me ā a dependent multi - muse wherein the societal lens of šššššššš adds to the whispers as written by ššššš .
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Riya took a moment to admire Aera's kindness and willingness to understand her. They were genuine, and not to mention quite stunning. She hoped they would be another friend to add to the roster of people she has come to get to know since her return.
With a playfully drawn sigh, she acquiesced and agreed, "I would like to thank the bakers the only way we could with desserts." Mirroring Aera, her eyes flitted the crowd and nearby partygoers but paused to giggle. "Please, just call me Riya. We are friends now." They were some of the best company she'd had tonight, aside from the elated Bertie and the ever-adored Tobias.
Aera was methodical in the way they tore the morsel apart, which Riya found herself admiring greatly. It was simple, but told of their grace. They would have to come visit the Das residence, though she was sure Nalan would have much to say about that. But she did not care. Once she had her piece, she raised it. "To you, my new friend," she declared before biting into the dessert.
"to new friendships! i'm glad to count you amongst their numbers, riya." to be so quickly upon a first name's basis would have the lingerers and gems talking, but aera minds not. somehow, it feels rare to find someone who wants to bond over the eating and dining as action rather than the idea of conversation surrounding it. to discuss food and to experience food are two different animals, each with their appropriate part to play, but how aera prefers the latter! "friends are honest about how their dancing and partying has gone, so. has yours treated you well?" a pause to chew, not every ounce of decorum lost despite their newfound excitement. not only were they sharing similarity, but riya was beautiful and of house das. the name knows its reaches currently. "i'm feeling rather dashed already. these dances have me moving quickly. i've never gotten the hang of the reels, but then again, square dancing might be just as shocking." another bite. they half-hoped a square dance would be played, they could do that with eyes closed.
Ceara was acutely aware of his focused disposition, and it brought her out of her own self-depricating mindlock. For now, at least. The point of attending this ball was not to sulk in the shadows, but that was where she found herself and it was hard to push herself out of that mindset, these feelings.
"I wish it were that simple," she drawled, wringing her fingers. "A proposal gone awry, more like." To think that she was proposed to--albeit accidentally--and her first instinct was to flee. It was an embarrassment. She was an embarassment. Her mind quieted at his admission, face softening. "It is a bit much, isn't it? All of this grandeur and nearly everyone in Mayfair cramped in one ballroom. But is that why you are hiding?"
Upon his curiosity, she glanced down at her dress. She wished it had been hers alone, she had felt beautiful in it before she arrived. Before Kitty's suggestions made her second-guess herself. "I will be frank: I'm not sure. I am borrowing this from someone. Lady Katherine Thorne? She's the chirpy, pretty one who's been running about all night."
Ceara actually let out a soft laugh, thankful she knew enough French to understand him. "Mon pauvre," she tried playfully before admitting, "My French is not the greatest just yet."
a flickering of acknowledgement passes over his face. "ah ... then my condolences. love is not a source of luck." not for me either, but he supposes the last person she would want to hear about is someone with so many distant bygones and hopefuls. "did you not wish for it?" any awkward situation sometimes requires a good fleeing. lasaru has seen many flee from the measurements stool upon realising their good friends chose the exact same designs without collaborating with them. hurt feelings were hurt feelings no matter the cause, and he takes in a breath that sounds like the seaside to his ears, scraping his throat. "it's been too long since i've been asked to any party worthy of nobility, mademoiselle, i find the rules draining." despite how long he has lived in them, bore witness to them up close.
his ears perk at the name. "it's difficult to miss her, i think. when she's out there displeased, she's quite loud, quacking as a duck in a small pond so as not to be outdone, yes? she asked me for new shoes." not really a secret, as eventually, they would be worn and seen, but las finds it difficult to hide a smile. a young lady calling another young lady chirpy is ... interesting.
There was nothing quite like the Moonstone room, but it was not just the shimmering, eerie decor, or how the pale, gauzy curtains made it seem as those who entered the room had stepped into a dream. Nalan could not help himself, he ran his fingers against the fabric and he could feel the quality between his fingers. Then there were the masked figures, offering their appraisals to those who dared approach and given his recent scandals, Nalan did not dare to seek an appraisal of his own.
Amongst the crowd, Nalan watches as gentlemen and ladies dared to be appraised, their smiles once full of wonder now brittle and strained after their encounter with Moonstone Judges. Just as all of London had begun to see, would they see beneath the refined Cambridge education or the wealth of his father?
āTell me, have you submitted yourself for an appraisal or do you believe that your chosen gemstone tells the world enough about who you are?ā
Nalan Das was more curious at others appraisals than his own, maybe even his own sisters would dare to ask for their judgement, but for now, Nalan was content on the side-lines, happy talking with others instead of being judged by them.
"heavens, no, who would do such a thing?" laughter bubbles in her throat, the fan moving ever the faster. the gossip and appraisals interests her as well, and she has yet to move through the masses. so far as she would be concerned, she would not be partaking. let them fuss and muddle. "they all do a fine job of appraising us no matter what we wear." fan flicking all the more, watching as he touches the curtains and arching a brow.
what on earth is he doing? good grief, is he going to try to steal the damn thing? eden purses her lips at the idea, more than willing to encourage such a petty theft, so long as she didn't have to be the one doing it. "i believe actions speak louder than words, and less words should be spoken. don't you agree?" their fan gestures towards their person, up and down the length of their gown, in a burst of pale, pale lilacs and ivories, striking.
The Lyttonās were a fascinating family, but for all the wrong reasons in Sophiaās opinion. To have bought their way into social acceptance last year was a difficult feat and one that the princess did not admire, and yet they had somehow endured and thrived within the ton. Now, one of their own was named the bachelor of the season and Mx Lytton and their brother remained, overshadowed by their own guest.
āYou were the chosen diamond last season, it is little wonder as to why I remember your name Mx Lytton, though it is a shame that you remain untethered to anyone. Is that of your doing or societies, Mx Lytton?ā
The princess did not mean to be harsh in her words, if they were to enter the diamond trial then she needed to be sure that her partner would be made of sterner stuff than most in the ton and added to the fact they were American was not ideal, but no less fun, or so Sophia had hoped. The Americans had such high expectations of fun, the English society sounded rather dull in comparison to their own adventures.
Without any more delay, Sophia took the first step and walked through the threshold of the Diamond Trial, which surely could not be much worse than her Moonstone Appraisal, but curiosity got the better of her once again. The masked individuals were scattered about, looking for their victim and they were delighted when they saw the princess of England and the American heir. While they moved through, Sophia could hear the not-so-subtle whispers, all of them whispering about the princesses two failed engagements, a brother who had run away while the other gambled away the kingdomās fortune.
āI take no notice of their words, they are meaningless if they are hidden behind a mask and if they are bothering you, we shall endure it together and come out the other side stronger for it, I am sure.āĀ
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Someone who could appreciate the finer things, the materials needed for such endeavors was one that Nalan appreciated even if he did not see them in the same standing as himself. Lasaru was not those amongst Nalan considered inferior, the man was an expert at his trade and without such skills, London would surely fall apart and therefore, Lasaru was amongst those in London whose value was beyond compare especially with such expert craftsmanship.Ā
āDoes it not scream new money, as if they have gone into a fabric store and asked for the most expensive without considering taste or decorum?ā
Nalan Das was almost an expert in scandals, or so it had felt recently, but watching others flit about as they willingly, unreservedly gave up those more precious than jewels was either astounding or plain stupid, Nalan had just yet to decide which one it was.Ā
āThat is quite an assumption to make, but one I have no quarrels in believing given how the season operates but I hope to find a friend in you, Mr Bessette. I have my familyās fabric business and with your shop, I believe we could both be unstoppable. Perhaps I could even introduce your son to my sister, Lady Kavika, baroness of Bedford?ā
It would be mutually beneficial, a sister engaged or matched with the son of a modiste, elevated in every sense of the world while ensuring that she would not outrank her own brother more than she already did.
The tension seemed to ease from Aera's shoulders bit by bit; at least that's what Edgar assumed, as he watched them sit down, and found - somewhat unexpectedly - that he preferred this version of Aera to the untouchable figure drifting through the ballroom. This one felt real. Less diamond, more person. He lowered himself beside them a moment later, stretching his legs out carelessly before taking back the flask for another sip. "Your mistake," he said lightly, "is believing diamonds are meant to be flawless." His gaze flicked toward them briefly, quieter now. "The interesting ones usually have cracks somewhere."
The corner of his mouth tugged upward afterward, enough to soften what might otherwise have sounded too sincere. "And if society cannot survive discovering you possess ordinary human exhaustion, then I fear society is far weaker than advertised." At the mention of his brothers, Edgar huffed a laugh through his nose. "Ah, yes. Dominic is likely terrifying prospective husbands without realising it, and Frederic is probably one inconvenient conversation away from climbing out a window." Fondness lingered beneath the dry amusement. "As for me, I perfected the art of disappearing from these events years ago."
Their final remark earned a sideways glance from him then, sharper with recognition. "I do speak from experience," he admitted plainly. "People decide what they want you to be long before they know you. After a while, it becomes exhausting carrying around a version of yourself built for everyone else." The confession sat strangely honest between them. Edgar looked out toward the gardens again before adding, quieter this time: "So when I say you deserve quiet moments, I mean it."
amidst the musical performances and the gossiping gems in the corner, EDEN FOX takes a dramatic seat in an attempt to decide what to do with her night. / OPEN STARTER, accepting replies .
OPEN EVENT STARTER | to thetonhq
LOCATION | GEM BALL
Music became livelier and an announcement made for one of the dances to start. He was looking forward the most to that one out of all the activities going on. The idea of the appraisal sounded fun but he wasnāt too sure if he wanted it. Since it was a more relaxed dance, he didnāt bother, like usual, of filling out a dance card and instead grabbed the hand of the person next to him and started to dance, thrilled that it was some of the commoners taking part and they seemed to outnumber the nobles and their children in the dance. āItās easy!ā He says to the person, ācome on! Just like this,ā and shows them the dance everyone around them was doing.
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the ball reminds her of one she had attended upon her entrance to french society as the baroness of mayenne, all glittering and gaudy with overpriced decorations and flowers that may have been discarded the following day without thought. though the music at the barnett's ball was far more to nora's taste than that of the neighbouring lord in mayenne, she still found herself out of place within the dance hall. gems of higher quality dance beneath the lights, shimmering in just the right way that her amber could never acheive - but she preferred it this way, to be hidden.
and hidden from everyone, she was not. she had attracted the attention of this american from not attracting attention at all - nora could not win. pasting a polite smile across her features, her nature does not allow her to simply ignore the inquisitive woman. "an old favourite." reluctantly, nora follows and sears herself beside them stiffly. she wished to return home. "i have few jewellery pieces without amber embedded in them and it has always offered comfort, so i suppose that is why i chose it . . . " a moment passes and eyes widen, "i apologise. i haven't introduced myself - ms. leonora mercier."
It must have looked strange or unnerving to anyone looking at her, seeing her so focused on the fabrics, the colours and the movement of every garment and admiring the work in awe and fascination. Even the people who did not use her work looked exceptional and she thought all looked the best they had all season, every single person reveling in the theme and using it to express some part of themselves that they saw or that they wanted to see. It made her proud to see it even though she wasnāt involved in it. Her father would say this is exactly why he did the work he did and loved their trade, allowing people to express themselves in their clothes.Ā
āYour work is exquisite and I truly do mean it. I can see the different greens and how it changes in the light. I think you have dressed yourself to be the best of the evening.ā It wasnāt a shallow compliment or false words, she meant it and thought such good work should be praised. āI would be honored to dance with you.ā
(jodie turner smith,) Goodness, EDEN FOX has arrived! SHE is 34 , of the LONDON FOX'S, and an OPERA SINGER, BELONGING TO THE GENTRY CLASS . They are RETURNED to England and the season. This author has heard they areĀ ENIGMATIC but also IRRITABLE. Accompanied by THEIR PAPILLON, BAFFI , there is much talk of their arrival and accepting calls but be warned: I have heard theyĀ TAKE EVERYTHING PERSONALLY!
šššššš
name: eden ainsley fox .
family: none living . ( that she knows of ) .
role in society: opera singer, highly experienced & well-travelled .
sexual orientation: pansexual .
date of birth: february 2nd, 1780 .
languages: english, german, french, italian, czech, russian .
appearance: of average height and lush build, with a preference for bright, bold colours atypical for most seasons .
hair colour: black, with slight grey undertones .
eye colour: sepia, deepest brown .
tattoos/scars: none / none externally, although there are some internal scars currently affecting her .
positive trait: passionate, extremely willing to engage .
negative trait: quite literally takes everything as personal offence .
ššššš ( cw mentions of parental loss )
Dominic turned to the man, trying to silently appraise him. Heād seen him about town, admired the works and probably even had a few of his pieces in his own personal wardrobe. āYou donāt think too highly of yourself, do you?ā Dominic asks without malice. Dominic knew of Lasaruās work and admired it for a while. There wasnāt a tailor or modiste like him in Ireland, and Dominic appreciated those who worked hard and excelled, especially when his own brotherās didn't. āIāve seen your work about town; Iād like to commission some pieces if it suits you." He asks, admiring the manās own attire. It wasnāt every day that those not born into society outdressed the nobles, but Lasaru clearly had impeccable style. āUnlike our hosts, I promise I can pay.ā He says, laughing a little at his own dig. Dominic couldnāt resist disparaging the Barnetts. Even with their new influx of cash, Dominic knew theyād soon go through it quickly. It was only a matter of time before theyād ruin themselves.
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who: Anyone in the Ton
where: The Barnett House(for the gemstone Ball)
Junho could feel the tenseness of everything at the ball. It always surprised him how a simple ball could have tension. He thought balls weren't meant for fun, but no. English society always needed to cause trouble whenever they are. How pitiful. He's settled next to the rows of sweets.
He hadn't even realized he didn't really know anyone. He knew of people, but friendships weren't his strong suit. He can talk and treat people like friends, but that was different from having real friends. It didn't trouble him most days, but being in a social event showed the evidence of it.
He's chewing on a sweet as he looks at the crowd. He felt someone standing next to him, and he slightly perked up and looked over. He was eager to speak to whoever was nearby. "Enjoy yourself this evening?" he always speaks as if he knows the person next to him, whether he actually did or not.
"I rather some hideously energetic mess of noise to this." The polka sounding music was admittedly too much for Kitty as well, but at least it was entertaining watching people make a fool of themselves while dancing to it. Maybe part of her was jealous that she didn't have anyone to truly be intimate with to be comfortable engaging in such a dance... But that was a thought for future Kitty to unravel.
"What is your taste in dance then, Mr. Bessette? Do you enjoy this slow music?" She raised an eyebrow, letting herself be curious. The corner of her lips quirked up a little at his acknowledgement that she was sought after and she nodded in agreement. "It is the burden I carry to dance as much as possible, a burden that I gladly carry." Said as if she was a martyr going into battle. "Being a debutante is tiring work, but I manage." Her feet were often very sore after such events so she always had to take a long soak to soothe the pain. "Perhaps you should make me some shoes that do not kill my feet by the end of the night! My father would be very pleased to see me not so grumpy."