Scandalising London

[unbellegeste]

Marie is surprising herself by how well she's settling into Victorian London. Maybe it's because once she started getting used to the island idea, the notion of all of it going to hell again isn't that much to take in, or maybe it's because being around all these stuffy British people brings out her inner rebel. Or maybe it's just because she's

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[wishesandsmoke]

It's with a great deal of regret that Eden has to decline the sherry, keeping to a cup of tea and a little plate of cookies as she takes up a spot in a chair near the music. She's hardly the most educated person around, but she's interested and quick and she has a love of theater that, she thinks, fits right in here. Though Marie is a stranger, she's still taken with the warmth of their hostess' greeting and there was just no way she could pass up the offer of an evening like this when she heard about it.

Outfitted in a dark blue bodice that seems appropriately out of step with the times and a white blouse, long ruffled skirt keeping her warm, at some point, she'll get up and dance, but for the moment, she's enjoying just listening to the conversation, chiming in from time to time. Trying to juggle both plate and cup ends with her dropping a cookie to the floor, though, and she leans down to pick it up, not sure where she'll discard it yet. It takes her a moment to realize she's ducked right into someone's path. "Oh, sorry," she says

[unbellegeste]

"It's the petticoats," Marie says symmpathetically. She's normally used to huddling up very small and passing under people's attention when she wants to; that's just out of the question these days. "They're all right for a holiday, but I'm glad I didn't grow up in the 1800s. I love your top, though," she adds appreciatively.

[wishesandsmoke]

"Oh, thank you," Eden says, fingers tracing the neckline. "I love your dress. Actually, I love all of this, but I have to agree, it's just not my century." Still, she's happy to give it a try for a few weeks, content to believe that the island she knows will return as usual. The city is a little more her style, she thinks, though it's a little bittersweet this is the only way she'll ever see London.

[unbellegeste]

"Thank you," Marie says, smoothing out a wrinkle from her skirt; they do keep appearing. "I'm discovering an interest in dresses that never really showed up before. I don't think I could keep the corset thing up for more than a few weeks, though."

[floozyfacade]

After last night, Olive isn't entirely sure she should be going to another party, having barely recovered as it is, but she can't pass up the opportunity to experience something like this either. Dressed far demurely in a pretty mint green polonaise, she bypasses the absinthe this time, mindful of her skirt as she stands near the fire. She didn't come prepared with anything to read and she's sorry for that now, but it's probably for the best. She isn't exactly what she'd consider a good writer. More than willing to enter any conversation she hears, though, she gradually finds herself as glad as she knew she'd be that she decided to come after all.

"I wish we had things like this more often," she says to another attendee. "It's such a nice idea."

[unbellegeste]

"And the neighbours will be gossipping about it till long after they vanish," Marie says with a satisfied nod and a small, conspiratorial smile. "I shouldn't be so happy about the idea of bothering them, I don't think they're even real, but I can't help it."

[floozyfacade]

"They kind of creep me out," says Olive with a laugh. "But God, yes, I love it. If they don't like what we're up to, maybe they should stop listening in." She can't help it. With all she went through back home, she dislikes prudish gossips more even than she did before. Nothing's going to keep her from enjoying herself.

[unbellegeste]

"They did me too, at first," Marie admits. "Now I've decided that I just don't have to feel guilty about playing games with them. Though I do like the maid here," she amends. "The breakfast is real enough, and she's very good at it."

[246th]

She always feels guilty, leaving Alfie, but she's getting better at it. Aidan never minds one on one time and he's all in favour of her getting an hour or two to herself. Still breast-feeding, she's sticking to lemonade but it's nice to be in a sitting room with her hair done and a beautiful dress on.

Even if she can't help but keep glancing at the clock.

[unbellegeste]

Marie sees her sitting by herself and floats over with an enticing tray of biscuits. "Have one?" she suggests. "Martha, isn't it?" She'd got everyone's name, coming in, but is having to work more than she thought she would to remember them all. "I love your dress."

[246th]

"Thanks," says Martha, smiling broadly as she reaches to take a biscuit. She smooths one hand over the iridescent fabric of her skirt. "Isn't it pretty? I used to dress like a crow back home in London. Work."

[unbellegeste]

Marie thinks this is a perfectly acceptable reason to take another one herself. Besides, she's dead hungry all the time, lately. "What sort of work?"

[number_unlucky]

I'd avoided the big party, mostly because I was still trying to find my bearings in the cold and in the what the fuck massive portion of city that was all around me. Not to mention that I suddenly had a very nice and cozy apartment that I was finally accustomed to, with a seemingly magic landlady who was quite kind about the whole Lady Doctor thing.

The last thing I needed on top of that was to get smashed out of my mind. But I'd liked Marie, a lot, and I'd read about the salons of the period back in the day...why not?

"We could talk about Neruda," I said, with a grin, settling my skirts around me as best I could. They were dark red, and allowed the most easy movement without being out of propriety. I had the feeling my landlady would have passed out if I'd worn only trousers along with the half-assed tying of my corset. Little did she know I had some on under the skirt. Hey, they kept me warm.

"Or Oscar Wilde. Though I haven't exactly read any of either since college."

[unbellegeste]

"Oh, I'm out of practice too. Neruda seems fitting, though, living as we are in exile," Marie says lightly, curling up next to her. As much as one can curl up in a Victorian dinner dress with corset boning digging into one's hips, anyway. But she's glad Remy's come, especially since the first time--well, Marie wasn't exactly at her best.

[number_unlucky]

I sipped my sherry--someone nearby had mulled wine, which I was sure could become my vice pretty quickly around here if I wasn't careful. Sherry first, and one of these cool little cake things. "Wilde's a little over the top anyway," I said, then realized we were having the conversation in English, and smiled at her. "Thanks for hosting this, it's really nice."

And frankly, a little nice to get a touch of modernity even in something so period.

[unbellegeste]

"Honestly, I'm glad you could come." A little honesty does, on occasion, do Marie some good. But her smile turns wicked very quickly. "I've been listening to the landlady gossip about me for a week now, anyway. I thought it was time to give her a good reason."

[neither_a_nor_b]

Both last night's hangover and recrimination hadn't really faded yet, but damned if Bay was going to miss an actual, honest-to-goodness, eighteen hundreds salon evening. So, armed with her best smile, her sketchbooks (drawings of Axe Girl carefully folded over), and a new outfit, she went into he sitting room. For now, she bypasssed the booze and went for the tea, not in the mood to test that whole 'hair of dog' theory.

"Evening," she greeted, wearing a halfway decent impression of a smile.

[unbellegeste]

"Boots!" is what Marie actually says, though she really meant it to be Bonjour. "I mean," she corrects, smiling sheepishly, "that those are lovely boots, and it seems to be a thing this era does well. Mince pie?"

[neither_a_nor_b]

And yet, somehow Bay knew exactly what she meant. It was easy to smile and kick up a heel to show them off better. "That's definitely one of the perks, for sure. If I don't get to keep these clothes when things change back, I am so writing a strongly-worded letter to the management. Oh, and yes please."

She reached out and took the little pie, thinking that the food would do her good.

[unbellegeste]

Marie shrugs. "Everyone says the things disappear with the snow, but I don't know how well anyone actually understands how it all works," she admits. "You look a little green around the edges, though, not just in the coat--long night?"