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Daimon Winter

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nothingupmysleeve: (dapper)
[personal profile] nothingupmysleeve
London had changed a lot since the century turned, Daimon thought as he stepped out of his hired coach and looked up the grand sweep of stairs leading to Lord Roxbury's mansion. But some things never changed. Here in the Year of Our Lord 1903, rich Westenders still offered up their children to each other like they would any other bribe--selling off daughters and occasionally sons for the sake of money and connections. Granted, they packaged each step of the transaction nicely. Like tonight's gathering: young ladies swanning around in ball gowns, alcohol flowing, more food laid on the dining tables than the whole of the East End saw in three days. Awkward interactions between teens and twentysomethings--and the occasional aging and somewhat predatory widower, whom the girls often tried unsuccessfully to avoid. Lord Roxbury, a skinny half-Frenchman with floppy dark blond hair, a prissy mustache and an annoyingly nasal voice, would be out tonight in force, leering at women a third his age. This despite his fourth wife being in the ground for barely a month. Men like Roxbury were why Daimon hated the rich with such passion. And tonight, he intended to take the bastard down several pegs. 

He tipped his driver well, instructing him in low tones to return at eleven sharp and wait near the servants' entrance at the back of the building, and then loped athletically up the stairs with his cane under his arm, earning a few gasps and comments from the hoi polloi. Let them fuss a little, he thought as he smirked to himself. It was the only warning they were getting of what was to come. His plan was simple: quietly run a telepathic con game against the worst people here, take them for whatever he could, make sure they didn't remember him--and then cap the evening by humiliating Roxbury as an amusing distraction, while he quietly slipped upstairs to replace some of the man's jewel collection with glass replicas.

He heard a few comments on his race as he topped the stairs, and made a mental note of the speakers--an older woman and a nervous redheaded man who turned out to be her son. Hearing "Shouldn't that wog be going in the servants' entrance?" was common to him, but nowadays he didn't have to just put up with it. He paused near a pretty brunette and glanced back at them, a sly smile on his face. Tonight the two were going to get ridiculously drunk and air every bit of dirty laundry their family had gathered for three generations, and she would develop a lingering impulse to punch police officers in the face. He looked between them as they stared at him, and then he turned on his heel and headed inside, pausing only to tip his hat to the young lady.

"Did you see how that bloody Wog looked at me? The nerve of him!" The woman had swelled up to half again her size, looking a bit like an angry pigeon in her lavender and grey ensemble. 

"Yes, Mother, I know, that was terribly rude." The redhead raised his hands in a conciliatory manner, just trying to calm her down before she made a gigantic scene. He was clearly terrified of her.

"I should summon the police at once! People like that should know their pl--" She paused. A puzzled expression crossed her face, and her features and manner relaxed. "...I...Cecil, what was I talking about?"

Cecil looked relieved for a split second--and then the strange confusion settled into his features as well. "I um...well...honestly I can't remember. I must have gotten distracted."

She scowled at him. "Well, come on, then, don't dawdle about like an idiot. We'll catch our deaths out here!" She heaved her way up the stairs, brushing rudely past the young lady near the entrance as she did so. "Mind where you're walking!" she snapped at the girl.

Date: 2014-01-13 05:23 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - displeased)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
Amelia Atwater was one of those young women whose fathers dangled as bait in front of any eligible bachelor possible, hoping to lure in one that could give him the best advantage within the society elite. Or, in his case, could provide him with enough funds to continue his nasty little gambling habit rather than fixing up her crumbling childhood home. The fact that Lord Roxbury was not on the market is probably why her father has forced her to attend tonight's function.

Honestly, that is exactly why she's taken refuge out here in the cold. She'd risk catching pneumonia if it meant not having to smile and simper as he pawed at her. Oh, if she had to marry him, she'd ... throw herself off of a bridge.

If she had the faintest inkling of what was to come for the disgusting man, she might actually try to enjoy herself tonight, especially as it was happening. These people - they think that they have the right to act in any way that they want without any consequence. She'd always found that ... ridiculous. She's got other choice words for her feelings, but they were really rather unladylike.

She hears the comments that the woman and her son make, and since nobody she knows is around to tell her otherwise, she huffs out a displeased breath, rolling her eyes. A man can't even walk up the stairs without getting insulted for it? Running away and living a life as a hermit has never looked like a better life choice than it does now. But she doesn't say anything, and after leveling a glance at them, he doesn't either, and she nods back as she continues her slow path around and around the grounds, just so that she doesn't have to go inside.

Of course, that brings her closer to the pair of them, and she's forced to stumble backwards as they pass. "Terribly sorry, ma'am," she replies, her words dripping with sarcasm.

She wouldn't feel the least bit terrible if the awful woman ... tripped on the long hem of her dress. She wouldn't feel terrible about it at all.

Date: 2014-01-24 10:54 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - laugh)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
Amelia is thankful for the assistance, as the very last thing she needs to do is to meet up again with her father, dirty and wet, and have to try to explain that it wasn't her fault that she'd gotten that way. He'd never believe her, not when she's employed just about every tactic available to her in order to have an excuse not to meet with a potential suitor.

An accident, though, no matter how true the tale turned out to be, would just infuriate the man.

His words cause a nervous little titter to escape her lips - it's not as though it wasn't common knowledge that the older woman enjoyed a drink or twelve on occasion, but it's not polite to speak such things out loud. Such gossip is best done behind closed doors. "It seems the drink has caught up with her tonight."

And then, there is that display in the doorway, and Amelia, shocked beyond belief, cannot help herself from laughing all the louder - a pleased, amused sound that she hasn't made in far too long. Thank goodness the other partygoers were far more interested in what Lady Castleworth was going to do next, otherwise undue attention would be paid to her.

"If that is how drinks cause a person to behave, I vow from this moment on, I will not partake."

Date: 2014-02-13 07:51 am (UTC)
good_at_heart: (Default)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
The answer is not at all surprising - after all, she's forced to live with a man who has his own vices, indulging in alcohol included. Maybe at first, it had been done as a way to cope with the loss of her mother, but since then, it's become, sadly, an everyday occurrence. She returns the smile with her own, one that hints that she's more aware than a woman of her age should be. "After this outburst, I suspect that he's better off on his own, don't you?"

Oh, goodness, watching the scene in front of her unfold, Amelia can't help but feel a wave of secondhand embarrassment wash over her. It's funny, certainly, to see the older woman behave in such a way, but knowing the stories that are probably already starting to spread makes her hate these types of functions all the more. While she might feel just the slightest bit distressed, she certainly does her best to conceal it. Best not to draw attention to herself and give the gossips all the more fodder to make up tales with.

"Amelia Atwater," she replies, offering a curtsy that has been honed to perfection after years of practice. "and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance - even if this isn't the most ... typical of circumstances." She stands straighter, nodding and chuckling gently. "I'm fine, thank you. And believe me, I've seen worse."

She's flattered by the compliment, and she ducks her head, glad for the darkness of the evening, and being able to hide her flushed cheeks. "Oh, I don't think that I'll ever have more than just the smallest glass of wine with dinner. Goodness knows that I don't want to end up like that."

Date: 2014-02-17 08:57 am (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - of course)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
Although she's surprised at the statement, it's sort of ... very true, but to hear what she thinks come from someone elses' mouth, it's something that she thought she might never experience. Most people thought the same way as her father - that a person's secrets and emotions and wants don't matter as long as they do what is expected of them. "Th - thank you. Your kindness is much appreciated."

Amelia allows her gaze to follow the line of his finger, taking in the sight of the man in front of her, taking a break from the chaos going on inside that's been caused by his mother. "You would do such a thing for a man that you don't even know?"

She is about to ask why when he continues on, and she quiets, just listening. Already, this man is not at all like anyone else she has ever met. And that piques her curiosity in a way that she is unaccustomed to. "And how do you think I will end up, if not like her?"

Date: 2014-02-26 05:53 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - looking down ; deep breath)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
The shift in vernacular doesn't phase Amelia - after all, other than her sisters, her best friends in that crumbling estate she calls home are the maids, and the cooks, and the stableboys that tend to her mare. Actually, the more relaxed tone and words, the easier it is for her to settle into the conversation. The stilted phrases and tones of the people inside the party usually set her teeth to grating.

"More people should think like you do, I think. Even if you can only brighten one person's life, and even if it's just for but a moment - I think that's wonderful."

Truly, Amelia doesn't even have to think about her answer. "Happy. And free."

Date: 2014-03-15 01:53 am (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - i love you ; admitting somethin)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
"It wouldn't go over well at all, I'm sure. They're far too used to their way of life, and their thinking to go changing it now. If you want change, if you want a revolution ... you spread your message amongst the young."

She nods her thanks and steps inside, not at all looking forward to the looks and whispers she knows she's going to receive. "It's even rougher on those unfortunate enough to be forced to be here against their will - those who don't believe the same way these idiots do."

Amelia sighs, nodding along, actually sort of touched by the knowledge that not everyone in her world was completely ridiculous and shortsighted. "There should definitely be more men in this world that feel the same."

Date: 2014-03-21 06:15 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - i know my lot in life)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
It's a sad state of affairs that that is the case, but it is, although Amelia has never been shy in sharing her own. It's probably one of the reasons that her father wants to marry her off, and as quickly as possible, to whoever will take her. "Revolution doesn't have to be violent - it can begin in the smallest of ways, such as ... not keeping quiet when one is faced with an injustice."

Although Amelia might not be able to hear the negative thoughts, she is finely attuned to noticing when people notice her, and the glances that they spare, which are not always hidden behind smiles. She simply holds her head up all the higher, determined to ignore them, and, for the first time in forever, enjoy herself and the conversation that she and Daimon are having. It's so rare that she meets someone who thinks of things similarly to the way that she herself goes, after all.

"Hopefully, they appreciate your assistance. I know that I do - I would have made quite the fool of myself had I stayed out in the cold."

She offers a smile, and a quick nod, reluctant to have to step away anytime soon. "Not yet, no, but maybe with time, there will be."

Date: 2014-03-29 11:43 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - side eye)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
It's funny that he should mention corsets, she thinks, sighing as deeply as she was allowed. "Yes, perhaps my battles aren't all in vain. Perhaps my sisters will live in a world that's at least a bit kinder than the one that I've been forced into living. Without corsets, and without so many antiquated rules for behavior. Hopefully, they have a better chance at finding happiness than I will." And that isn't Amelia being overly dramatic - she's simply realized her situation, and her station in life, and what it demands of her.

If she's surprised at the change of accent, she barely even bats an eye. After all, plenty of the servants at her father's estate sound exactly the same. Although it does beg the question of how he'd been invited to a party such as this, and in any capacity other than server, or doorman. "If only more people would choose to be noble. But I think that power ... corrupts."

Well, it would seem that they've got that in common, too. And perhaps it tickles her to hear him say the words - he'd hate her father if they ever had the opportunity to meet.

Amelia doesn't have the time to answer before the crowd parts and she catches sight of Lord Roxbury, too, preening like a peacock while simultaneously undressing the women in attendance with his eyes, and she feels absolutely sick to her stomach. This is who she might be expected to marry? She'd rather drown herself first.

If he followed the line of her eyesight, he'd notice who she was watching carefully, as well. "I'd much rather be anywhere else in the world, actually."

Date: 2014-04-07 06:23 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - laugh)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
"I think I'm beginning to see that. I can understand that it is up to me, rather than depending on anyone else, because it's obvious that these are not the types of people I need to be placing my heart and my trust with." She pauses, offering the quickest nod of her head, her lips quirking up into a smile. "I am not averse to a little ... mischief."

It is true that she never meets people quite like Daimon, and the more he speaks, the more Amelia wants to know. "Just try telling them that. I think they're all too happy in their closed off little world. I think they'd fear having to step out of it, even for a moment."

Amelia does her best to make herself as small as possible, just so that the Duke doesn't catch sight of her and head over - the last thing she wants to do is to be forced alone with the man. She might look a bit trapped when Daimon mentions that he's got things to do, but of course he was probably not at all interested in being used as a human shield, no matter how much she is actually enjoying the conversation. "Please, yes. You won't have to ask me twice."

Date: 2014-04-17 06:21 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - all dressed up ; smile)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
It's unladylike of Amelia to wonder, but she can't help the fleeting thought that maybe some trickster had taken it upon themselves to spike the punch - she wouldn't mind if they did, as anything to make her forget how dreadful these soirees could be would be nothing short of a miracle. She sighs, following along, keeping her voice down, even though she's certain that nobody is bothering to try to listen in to their conversation. "That man is absolutely a pig."

And then, he's taken his place in order to block her from the Duke's view, and she's grateful for the gesture. This was far more interesting and pleasing a conversation than anything the Duke would speak about. And that's not taking into the account the fact that he'd be speaking to her chest, rather than to her. "I can't imagine that they're truly happy. They have to know, on some level, that all of this means nothing."

Amelia smiles at anyone who looks her way, raising an eyebrow as she ponders the question. "He always looks at me as though I'm nothing more than a ... a piece of meat. Not even as a prize to be won. I despise the man."

Date: 2014-04-28 08:37 pm (UTC)
good_at_heart: (amelia - i know my lot in life)
From: [personal profile] good_at_heart
Amelia could pinch herself, at least to prove that she isn't making all of this up in her head, so desperate is she to have someone who understands her. Surely, this can't be a figment of her imagination, no matter how vivid it might be.

But she's taken out of her thoughts at the mention of his father's title, surprised that someone of such lineage feels much the same as herself - just a simple lady, and slightly impoverished, at that, no one special. "I am not the only one, then, that wishes to be seen as something other than a selfish mans' legacy - ", she starts, only pausing to peek around Daimon's shoulder to see where the disgusting older man is, quickly standing straight and hiding as he comes nearer, thankfully not catching sight of her.

"We should all be so lucky to have someone like you watching out for us. I wish I could thank you properly for what you've done for me tonight."

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