The Soulless Socialite

pink coded in their own flpcs masterpost linked in ur pinned....

Worth afternoon dress, 1907-09

Neathy Fashion Coalition - Volume 6

A hook fastened and a ribbon tied, and yet so soon after such delicate details will be hidden away through layers galore. Fashion is often remembered for its grand silhouettes, its glittering jewels, its dramatic entrances- Yet every ensemble begins somewhere quieter. And the dressing room door opens, if only for a moment.

And there we have! Thank you all for joining me for Under Lock and Lace. As always, it has been a delight to see the creativity, craftsmanship, and character that everyone brought to this prompt. Seeing so many different takes on the topic was a delight, and I must express my extra delight in that of ruffles and lace~

Within this compilation you will find every submission for the sixth volume of the Neathy Fashion Coalition, complete with links to the artists' original posts and urls. If anything appears incorrect or missing, please feel free to contact me and I will do my best to amend it promptly.

For now, draw the curtains and set aside the laces. Who knows when the next fashion season will bare its teeth, hm?

Participant urls under the cut!

The His Dark MaterialsFallenLondon AU.

And Morgan was daimonless because unsure about their characterization as one single animal companion that should complement them and kinda reiterate their themes.

But there has been a breakthrough!

Emory has surrounded himself with a lot of people who care more about others than he does, and because he wants to please them, he ends up doing things he might not bother with otherwise. He helps Nora solve cases, makes sure his more revolutionary crew members are able to pass on messages or redistribute portions of their smuggled goods, etc. Also, through teratomancy, they have developed a slightly greater capacity for understanding other people and creatures (whether or not they choose to act on it is another matter).

Snippet 1: Jules seemed to attract trouble; she had hoped that after killing the Vake, those little problems would practically disappear.

She didn’t brag about it, not so brazenly, but the people at the Medusa’s head knew. So did the railway members, once she’d given them the time of day. From Veilgarden to the Flit, everyone seemed to react the same way- giving her a look of surprise, and only saying the quiet part out loud on the rare occasion.

“Without a scratch… do you have any scars?”

The answer was "yes", underneath her various layers of clothing. From stabbings to poison to Vake claws and bullets, she bore the marks of violence all over her. What she didn’t wear, however, was anything visible. It had been crucial as the Partial Performer, even more so as the Adventuring Aesthete, but she was just Jules now. She didn’t mind her scars, and had made her peace with them- she was just glad she wasn’t a tomb colonist at twenty four. 

Snippet 2: She would be (and had been) reborn, and fear simply wasn’t a part of the equation. Considering she’d been killed a mere month ago, Jules could have considered it- considered fear. She had, after the megolomania had subsided and finally allowed her to crash in her suite at the Royal Bethlehem. She didn’t remember much about her latest episode, except her incessant laughing and the suites next to her complaining. She knew these episodes were becoming more common- they certainly weren’t disappearing- but she simply had other things to worry about.

Snippet 3: Jules handed her Mr. Hays’ card, and the woman nodded. As she reached out to take it, Jules noticed her hands.

“No ring?” Jules asked. The woman shook her head. 

“Not anymore. Not since he…” She trailed off. Jules nodded.

“I hope you take him for everything he’s got,” Jules said. The woman looked up, and Jules could see a spattering of bruises on her cheek. 

“I just want my son.”

Jules wouldn’t call herself ‘selfless’. She wouldn’t even call herself ‘caring’, either, but damn it all if she wasn’t protective. It was a flaw of hers, she supposed. When she saw the woman’s face, she narrowed her eyes.

“I wouldn’t suggest a lawyer, then,” she flatly said, trying to reign in her anger. “I’d look into a licentiate.” 

Snippet 4: She gently smiled to see if she still could. When she found that she was able to, she smiled a little more before wincing. It hurt.

She couldn’t make sense of it all. The vitriol wasn’t even meant for her, and yet she was glad it had happened- well, to her and not to Agatha. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, and yet she had saved her, nonetheless. Her lips fell into a frown at the realization.