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the former viscount chelmsford, oliver's elder brother james, kept an entire team of seamstresses and designers on hand. essentially, as oliver so eloquently put it upon finding out, tossing money into ale-ladden runoff of london's streets and alleys. now, only one seamstress is employed by the berkeley's, an elderly lady, mrs. jane sewey, that had been with the family since long before oliver and james were born. james sacked her when he took over the estate, but oliver found her in a shop in essex. mrs. sewey had created all but his mask, which oliver picked out himself. the mask he found in the same shop he found her, giving the shopowner nearly triple what he was asking for it, mostly to soothe his anger over losing mrs. sewey. but it is a beautiful, old thing with golden accents and a unique sun design at the top. sewey paired it with a laurel headpiece and golden accents across oliver's lapel.
#theseason;epiphany#clara used a photo of holliday grainger which reminded me of the borgia's masquerade ep#francois arnaud wears this beautiful laurel crown which inspired the entire gold theme#may do more epiphany outfits in the morning this was fun
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Welcome to Meme Friday at The Season! 🧣 Each Friday, we’ll post one or two memes for characters to reblog on their accounts. Reblogging the meme indicates that you are accepting asks from it, and that you’re also sending asks out to others. Feel free to reblog and answer memes until end of day Sunday. After that, save what’s left over in your inbox for the next Meme Friday. Enjoy!
SEND ME A…
♗ for a tip for getting my muses romantic affection ♖ for on of my muses guilty pleasures ♞ for something that my muse wants to do ♟ for something my muse admires ☁ for something that make my muse sad ☂ for something my muse wants to protect ♨ for something that relaxes my muse
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THREE DAYS TO GO! It’s Meme Friday, and this week, we are preparing for all the scandal and drama. Our usual Meme Friday rules are still in effect: Reblogging the meme indicates that you are accepting asks from it, and that you’re also sending asks out to others. Feel free to reblog and answer memes until end of day Sunday. After that, save what’s left over in your inbox for the next Meme Friday. Enjoy! 🧣❄️
Pre-Established Relationship Meme
send a ♡ and i’ll fill this out for our muses ! i’ll bold what i want for their relationship, italic what i could see and strike out what i don’t .
FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance / pen - pals / coworkers / partners / other .
ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .
FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .
ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based off circumstance / based off professional matters / based off misunderstandings or lies / other .
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Send 📔 for a letter or diary entry written by my muse!
(Oh yeah I'm doing this)
A letter, never sent, addressed to Miss Theodosia Stewart. Dated April, 1799.
Theo,
I am not even sure if I should address you so informally. How long has it been since I've addressed you at all? At least four years, it must be. God, Henrietta is now the age you were when we first met. The young Mister West, a landowner's son from down the road, is the age I was. He requested of me, two days ago, to promise him Henrietta's hand. I about murdered the poor boy. Was that what it was like? Was that what I was like?
You may be wondering, dearest, just why he requested that of me. You might have heard of James' passing. You definitely have, if you are the same Theodosia Stewart I knew. Would you know that I am now Viscount Chelmsford? I feel as if I barely even know it myself. But, alas, it is the truth. Would you have me, now? I am to return to England soon. A ship departs from the port north of here in two days. I shall be on Her Majesty's soil once again, in the same country as you. I shall see your face in the cobbled streets. I shall here your name pass through the gossips' lips. It's almost too much. So much has happened since we've parted. So much I want to tell you. There was a time where I couldn't imagine a life without seeing your face everyday. But, now, I am sullied with years of war. I am not the boy I once was, but I still fear your hold upon my heart. Will it be a blanket that I am wrapped in once I re-enter England? Or will the tie that bind us no longer be there? Am I healed of this longing for you? I am not sure. I have loved since then. It is a confession I give only to you. I have loved another. And even though it was made clear to me your feelings, it still feels as though I am admitting guilt. I am in confession now, Theo. I have loved another, and I have loved you. All this time. But I know, now, the truth I could not grasp before. I know you can never return those feelings, nor will I ever ask you to again. It is unfair, my love. You are free from me, I promise you that. I can never be free of you, but I never wish to be. I want the blanket, and the tie, and to watch you rise above. I will have you marry the most powerful man in the realm. I will have you be happy and fulfilled. I make another promise to you, in this confession. Should you find the man that gives you all that you want, pray he does not stumble or fall from grace. For if he dares to be less than perfect, I will end him.
. . . the letter ends abruptly, stained with candlewax. It remains in Spain.
#𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 ... the viscount#making this very rambly and introspective felt right#like he started the letter with every intent for it to be cordial and to send it#but it ended up being a diary entry for him
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Send 🔥 to find out what drives my muse’s ambitions.
Currently, Oliver doesn’t know what his ambitions are. He know he must eventually marry to produce an heir, lest the viscountcy fall to one of his distant cousins, but he doesn’t necessarily want to. He does, on the other hand, aims to better his family’s quality of life in all ways. He doesn’t want his young sister to have to marry for money (or truly, marry at all).
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Send 🎂 to find out when my muse’s birthday is.
Oliver was born August 14th, 1776. His mother’s quite hazy on the time of his birth, but it was probably the early hours of the morning.
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Welcome to Meme Friday at The Season!🧣 Each Friday, we’ll post one or two memes for characters to reblog on their accounts. Reblogging the meme indicates that you are accepting asks from it, and that you’re also sending asks out to others. Feel free to reblog and answer memes until end of day Sunday. After that, save what’s left over in your inbox for the next Meme Friday. Enjoy!
Find out some facts about my muse:
Send 💖 to find out who my muse is romantically attracted to Send ☁️ to find out what my muse’s most recent dream was about. Send ☄️ to find out what my muse wishes for. Send 🔥 to find out what drives my muse’s ambitions. Send 💥 to find out what my muse regrets. Send 😖 to find out what my muse fears. Send 👁 to find out who my muse envies. Send 💀 to find out who/what my muse will put their life on the line for. Send 🎤 to find out if my muse has any musical talent. Send 🎂 to find out when my muse’s birthday is. Send 🎁 to find out what my muse would want for their birthday. Send 🗡 to find out who my muse wouldn’t want to make an enemy of. Send 🌡 to find out what weather preference my muse has. Send ⌚️ to find out my muse’s favorite time of day. Send 😡 to find out who my muse considers intolerable.
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Welcome to Meme Friday at The Season!🧣 Each Friday, we’ll post one or two memes for characters to reblog on their accounts. Reblogging the meme indicates that you are accepting asks from it, and that you’re also sending asks out to others. Feel free to reblog and answer memes until end of day Sunday. After that, save what’s left over in your inbox for the next Meme Friday. Enjoy!
Send 📔 for a letter or diary entry written by my muse!
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oliver's connections pre-january 1800 ⮧
theodosia stewart, the sensualist, william hastings frances fitzroy, the devil's advocate, archibald howard st. john
#𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 ... second son#𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 ... war-swept#this is very low quality#i tried to keep the ones i havent developed as much more neutral so theres no emotion on those#and the b&w ones are ones not yet cast
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ixnay-on-the-ipshay:
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The piles of paper were mocking him, of this he was sure. The accounting of the estates, along with a more discreet report on the Dowager Countess’s behavior to date (ominously compliant and quiet); the paperwork due to the Admiralty, now that the ruse was out – Alistair and the Executor had beaten him back to Spithead by a good three weeks, and that, combined with Sir Sidney’s dispatches from the clear opposite side of the Atlantic, meant he had some, hrm, explaining to do –
He blinked – wait, where the devil had that stack come from?
“To hell with this,” he muttered, standing and ringing for his greatcoat instead – it was his first week back in England, he was still shaking sand out of his boots, he was damme well going to a proper English pub and-and having himself a proper English pint.
That had been the plan, which lasted until he found himself staring with no small measure of disgust at the body sprawled directly at the threshold of the nearest pub.
“I say,” he called out, voice edged with irritation, “Proprietor! You appear to have a-a vagrant problem – how the devil is your custom to reach you if-if –”
It was cold, bitterly so, and not just because he was still adjusting from the sweltering Egyptian heat. Depending on how long this-this drunkard had been lying there – why, the cold might finish the fellow off, if his vices did not!
He let out a long sigh – bid his pint farewell, and crouched down to check on the man. Close up, the man was not as-as destitute as he had expected; the fabric and cut of the clothes were surprisingly top-notch.
“Sir,” he said, reaching out to gingerly slap the man – gentleman? – on the face, “You must stir yourself; a public road is no place for this-this soused loitering – think of your family!”
And come to think it, that face, mud notwithstanding, looked awfully familiar – albeit younger and certainly cleaner, above scarlet regimentals.
He frowned, then, in tones of horror, “– Mr. Berkeley?”
he’d just started to fall into the point of sleep where dreams floated into his head, but they somehow took the shape of a looming naval captain. with an accent even more southern than his own, and judgement boiling over, making its way through the air towards him. but, somewhere in his dulled brain, recognition. he was awake now, at least in one sense of the word. awake enough to tilt his head to the side, getting the man in his peripheral.
"oh!" oliver exclaimed, his voice obviously slurred and slow. quickly spitting out the mud that’s found its way onto his lips, oliver offered a polite, close-mouthed smile. "captain boat!” so, that’s who it was. his mouth was moving quicker than his brain, it seemed. “that’s not quite right, is it?” oliver noted, letting his head flop down again, so as to let himself think. "right, 'tis right now, i s'pose." the polite smile melted into a sheepish one, his eyes re-focusing on the earl. he doesn't remember him too well. twice they've met before, he was sure. in passing, through introductions. oliver never forgets a face, though, and very rarely a name, unless in his current disposition. "to what⸻" he lifted his head back up, straining his neck in the process, " ⸻ to what do i owe the pleasure, captain boat?"
#𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ... silver boy#ixnay-on-the-ipshay#this is probably very poorly written but its very funny
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⚰️ = How would the loss of a family member affect them? Does it vary based on type of family member?
It definitely varies, and not even by how much he likes the family member. When he got word his father died, he was barely affected at all. A mourning for the child he once was, but nothing that lasted longer than the day he found out. His brother's death is a whole different can of worms. He's not over it, and he has so much guilt because of it, he doesn't know what to do with himself. If someone he actually liked dies? Say, Henrietta, or his mother, Oliver would fall apart. Full-blown outbursts and self-destruction.
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😞 = Finding an orphaned child would your muse opt to take them in, find someone more qualified, or just leave them?
I think Oliver would love to take the child in, and in some circumstances he might, but at this moment in his life, he definitely would find someone more qualified. He doesn't trust his abilities as a father to take care of child alone. Maybe years down the line, or when he's found a life partner. He's too empathetic to leave the child, but knows himself well enough to not keep them himself.
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👎 = Is there anyone in your muse’s family they dislike, why?
A younger Oliver would say James. Either of them really, his father or his brother. They were always so... condescending? The younger Oliver would also say that they hated him first, so why would he be the one to extend the olive branch? Everyone knows why you have a second son, if not for the innate love of children. His father barely paid him a second glance, and his brother just carried with him the knowledge that he was better. Both of these things enraged Oliver. Currently, Oliver wouldn't say any of this. Not because his feelings changed, but because they're both dead.
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👍 = Does your muse think they’re a good child and/or sibling?
Heavens no, Oliver, in his mind at least, has always been a terrible child. Perhaps an even worse sibling. Especially with James as the firstborn, you need someone in there to spice it up. While James was learning the pianoforte and being praised as the most eligible bachelor in all of England, Oliver was setting fire to curtains and stealing people's shoes. He was the giggling boy in the shadow of a prank. It was a marvel and a wonder when he got into Oxford, and more still when he enlisted. His mother swore up and down that it was a jest for five years straight, often telling people Oliver had run away and was just really skilled at forging official letters and forms. In the sibling category, he and James never got along. James found it all to easy to look down his nose at his younger brother, and Oliver vowed to make the other boy's life at least as hard as his own. When Henrietta was born, He found it harder to ruin her day. She was always so happy, even when Oliver would mess around. She found him funny. So, no, not a good child. Definitely not a good little brother. Maybe a decent elder one.
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location: outside the hand & shears pub time: well past nightfall, before january 1800 participants: lord archibald clare howard st. john
trying to hold down his supper was not the main issue at the moment. in the interest of clarification, it was an issue, but not the main one. no, a more pressing matter right now, as oliver exited the hand and shears, was that he could not exactly stand. the sort of damaged leaning that he was doing was not standing, and the cobbled stone that made up the wall that he was doing this upon was bothering his skin. his next steps were all very thought out. oliver berkeley could hold his liqueur very well, you see, he was a soldier. well, not really a soldier. in any case, he would push off of the wall and walk straight home. he would be poised and collected. he would be sober. bracing his hands against the wall was easy, a fluid motion that he proved to him, in some way, that he was not utterly plastered.
and then step two . . . he fell. the muddied surface of the ground welcomed him with open arms as his living corpse smacked straight down. prone upon the ground, the last drunk leaving the pub politely stepped over him and he was alone. weirdly, though, oliver was comfortable. he'd slept in beds worth a poor man's income, and in cots that a poor man probably would have thrown out. none could compare to the warmth and softness of this english mud. it was before he knew it that he was fully unconscious, sprawled in the mud, his arm under his cheek.
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Welcome to Meme Friday at The Season! 🧣 Each Friday, we’ll post one or two memes for characters to reblog on their accounts. Reblogging the meme indicates that you are accepting asks from it, and that you’re also sending asks out to others. Enjoy!
👩 = What’s your muse’s relationship with their mother, what made it that way? 👨 = What’s your muse’s relationship with their father, what made it that way? 👩👧👧 = Does your muse have any siblings? Do they wish they had more/any? 🌟 = Who is your muse’s favorite family member, why? 👎 = Is there anyone in your muse’s family they dislike, why? 👍 = Does your muse think they’re a good child and/or sibling? 💕 = What are your muse’s thoughts on parenting and being a parent even if they aren’t one? 💜 = What children does your muse have, do they want any more/any at all? 😤 = How would/does your muse handle unruly, difficult or dangerous behavior from their children? 👌 = Does your muse think they are/would be a good parent? 😞 = Finding an orphaned child would your muse opt to take them in, find someone more qualified, or just leave them? 😫 = How does your muse handle a family member being stressed out? What about sick? ⚰️ = How would the loss of a family member affect them? Does it vary based on type of family member? 🍳 = What kind of family gatherings does your muse prefer and why? ✨ = How important is family to your muse?
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Douglas Booth as Mr. Bingley in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016) dir. Burr Steers
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