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[loyaltytm]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋

[ lee sung kyung, she/her, cisfemale ] — was that PENELOPE RIDDELL? the THIRTY TWO year old is a FORTNUM AND MASON CLERK, how exciting to see them this season! rumors have it they are NURTURING and WARM, but i’ve heard they are PROTECTIVE and DRY as well — maybe that’s why they’ve been called the CANCERIAN. I have even heard that HER CHILDREN WERE NOT HER LATE HUSBAND’S. —  only time will tell. 

full name: penelope riddell née song nickname: pen, penny, pea age: two and thirty years old gender + pronouns: cisfemale + she/her sexuality: heterosexual marital status: widowed, unbetrothed

nationality: british social standing: working class, single mother and widower languages: english education: homeschooled occupation: general store clerk hobbies: sewing, embroidery, drawing, painting, playing with her daughter

height: 5'10" build: on the thinner side due to stress and poor diet hair: dark brown, usually tied up and out of her face eyes: lifted , fox-like eyes complexion: pale skin in a permanent state of rosy, borderline flush with fever fashion: would be more stylish if she had the flexibility to be

tw partner death, child death

although she lived a life long before her husband and children came along, its hard to remember when you hold such little regard for the time. her youth, although the memory escapes her, is spent in a small orphanage in london with an elderly widow. pen grows up drawing in the dirt and imagining a life where she might build her own family. she knew that when she would be so lucky to have them, she would hold them so close that they would never know the loneliness she felt as a child.

now despite being a lonely child, penelope grows up to be beautiful woman. she has no problem in finding a husband, but she finds love in the brown eyes benjamin riddell. he has a family of six siblings and two parents to complete the set and pen has never known such love than to be with their family. ben is dependable, and kind, and although he is gone most of the year as a sailor, there are happy together. her heart aches when he leaves but soon... while he sets sails, pretty penelope's tummy grows rounder and rounder until the fruit of her womb grows so heavy she has no choice but to give birth to her son with only the midwife and her husband’s sisters by her side. all is well for the months where he is home, and when he isn't, she has her darling little bumble bee, benjamin riddell ii.

bee, just shy of eleven, takes her hand solemnly. please mama, can i go with papa? he looks so eager and ben is happy to spend more time with his son but what should be a calm day in the water culminates into a freak storm. although she promises to hold her little family tight, there are times when your grip slackens. the days afterwards are wrought with nausea, sick with grief, so she thinks.

if it hadn't been for her sister in law, penelope would have feared for the worst. seraphine's offer to let her stay in her cottage until she could land on her feet is kind, and its even kinder that she does not rescind it when she finds out pen is with child. she is by her side when she gives birth to the last of their little family, gwendolyn riddell. some people are nasty and their cruel speculation brings about baseless rumours.

now, her heart still aches for her boys. every fibre of her being is tainted with grief, missing them both dearly despite having long completed their journey to the pearly gates. but pen has no intention of losing herself in her grief, knowing she has a young daughter to take care of. she will not make the mistake of letting go again. to support her and her daughter, pen works at fortnum and mason.

tldr; a single mom, working at fortnum and masons to support her daughter while being sad about losing her husband and son < / 3

personality

pen has a motherly disposition, bleed through of her parenting style. she’s nurturing and warm — always happy to offer a kind word or wrap you in a warm hug if need be. she also makes a mean mug of soup.

having suffered loss after loss, pen prefers to hold what she loves to her chest. over-protective, maybe. cautious is what she’d rather say. she doesn’t chase adventures like her boys had been. practical-minded, she’d rather keep her feet on the ground.

she loves to doodle. the thought of being an artist never crossed her pragmatic mind, but she does love the idea of painting.

if she finds that you’re a little too wild for her speed or she does not like your conversation, she will curl into herself and shrink. she has a tendency to become dry.

wanted connections

flirty customers idk maybe they only come to fortnum and masons and buy the overpriced cheese because they wanna see the milfs

friends of her late husband! he was a sailor!

get her out of the house mayb,

ajfkjfdkfgkn i would like unlikely friends

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[loyaltytm]

pippa gives a schooled smile at that despite her instinct to scrunch her nose in disgust. yuck. more tutoring. but... mandarin did always make her feel closer to her mother. "that is incredibly kind of you to offer, lady wetherby. it would be lovely to be able to practice my mother's language more. i fear i may lose all of the intonation."

she sits up straighter, piqued interest at the servant's arrival. "never in my life!" her eyes sparkle in wonderment. "only english wonders, which... the longer i witness them and the more i learn about the world, the less they seem wonderful."

𝔐ingxia couldn't help but smile at the other's excitement at their shared heritage. "Now I know why my mother sent an invite for you to come." She knew that all her mother was all-too-excited to get reacquainted with the fellow Chinese members of the Ton and London. "I am fluent, and so are my brothers. We can also be your tutors." One of her house servants brought in a pot of hot water and a tray with all the tools necessary for this tea ceremony. "Have you had tea prepared for you in this traditional way? Or have you only had English tea?"

[loyaltytm]

that was worse, he thinks. to not only be so easily identifiably poor, but also to be mistaken for english. avery had suffered this for nearly twenty years. this… dichotomy of what he was, and what he felt, and how he was perceived.

“oui, je suis français.” which, in many ways, is barely true. two thirds of his life were spent in england, speaking english. that little boy which had trouble with his slurred t’s, and ugly oo’s — he had gone away years ago, leaving behind the weathered bones in which he occupied.

“bien, mademoiselle — je t'aiderai. mais…” he will regret this later. “you will not find them here.”

A wave of relief washed over her as he responded in French. Finally, she thought. It had been long enough since she heard her native tongue from someone who wasn't her family, and she certainly would not let this man go so easily.

"Mes excuses, je ne sais pas à quoi ressemblent les commerçants anglais. Je cherche désespérément quelque chose de français, pouvez-vous m'aider dans ce département?" Emmeline said as she took a step closer to the other, keeping a healthy distance for any prying eyes. A warning from her English mother that knew the Ton had not changed in her time gone in Europe.

"Êtes-vous français, monsieur?"

[loyaltytm]

as much as he is to serve his family, avery means to ignore his sister as much as he can. they were his family and so he loved them to a degree, but camille had always been insufferable whenever she had run through her personal allowance — running to their soft hearted papa to open his wallet to whatever extravagance she needed to stand out among the landowners.

avery was not as soft as his father, but camille knew the right buttons to press for him to crack open the cheque book. avery took no pleasure in the details of the debut or the balls. he spared no thoughts to it all — the girls had money set aside for their dowry and the rest of it was avery’s.

none of which he wished to share with camille. although they both know the extent of each other’s finances, it is only with his father’s advice that avery considers it, be kind to your sister and help her as she needs it. she is mourning. so is he. mourning all of money he is to lose over the next year.

"preventable indeed," avery says dryly. he could only imagine what his vapid sister was going through. if only her stupid husband had the faintest whiff of a business sense. “do you have a point to make to me, or are you simply complaining for the joy of it?”

closed starter : @loyaltytm ( avery ) location : auclair london house

she whips into the house with the frenzy of a rehearsed tornado. it is all the clicking of heels and preemptive huffs of discontent to signal to the occupants of these walls that she is here and she is unhappy . camille glides past a footman , before finding herself in the drawing room. she yanks her gloves off of her hand , one finger at a time , and slumps dramatically against a cushioned chaise.

she offers one exaggerated sigh. another. then , prior to her third, she shifts in her seat with a huff , sitting upright so that she might gain her brother's attention. ❛❛ you will not believe the inconvenience i have suffered, mon chou. . . ❜❜ camille huffs once more for good measure, a calculated attempt to make this all much more dire than it truly was. ❛❛ i was refused service at the modiste today because of an issue with my account. i mean , can you imagine , chouchou ? me ! who could ever willingly cause such an easily preventable embarrassment oh , i dread to think . . .❜❜ refused service is a strong term for 'gently reminded of an outstanding balance,' but someone needed to pay it.

[loyaltytm]

tedros strolls along as he does — long limbed and self assured — down the streets so nearby ladies may swoon over him and so that young boys may admire him. therefore, due to the leisurely purpose to his walks: his pockets remain empty. unless, of course, the heir decides to charge a treat or two to their tab.

he looks over his shoulder once, careless due to his pride — "you're mistaken, little boy.”

tedros realizes his error like a sharp ice bath. he gives the sharpest intake of breath as he turns. he’s still confident that she is mistaken, but he is embarrassed by his own error.

“forgive me, my lady—” he gives a bow, swiftly bending with his hand to his chest. “i… so few ladies wear their hair so short and unbound. i am… embarrassed to have insulted you so.”

open ; location: abbey green

Etta typically delights in taking strolls about town when allowed. Of course she's chaperoned by some ladies maids, though they've been around the estate long enough to know her and trust her, and vice versa. She doesn't feel stifled or controlled when she's with people from her manor, as long as it's not her mother, so Etta relaxes a touch as she walks along Abbey Green, letting her eyes drift along the storefronts, wondering if she ought to let her whims take hold and give in to the window shopping in order to alleviate her restlessness. What her eye instead catches from a distance is the fluttering of something falling out of someone's pockets or purse, unbeknownst to the owner. "Wait! Excuse me, wait!" she calls, hoisting her skirts up with one hand and trying to hail them with the other as she starts to pick up into a run after them. She can hear her ladies maids calling after her not to be so careless, but she's entirely too focused on her new escapade as she scoops up the object from the ground and closes the distance with the unsuspecting target. "Just a moment, you've dropped this!" she tries one more time, hoping they'll finally hear her.

[loyaltytm]

always quite particular about his image, tedros was extravagant in many ways. in spite of his impulsive nature, if there was one thing he took his time on, he would always take into account how he may appear.

he knows he must look quite good with all his long limbs, posed angles while inspecting the window display outside of the little haberdashery. tedros accepts the cry for help as a compliment. of course, she comes to him. he is, of course, the picture of a night in shining armour. of course.

now, she is young for his taste but tedros doesn’t mind humouring her.

"little lady castillo!” his face is alight with joy at her company. his jovial laugh is enough to draw attention to the both of them. “you know, that is very unkind of you to say. i thought lady montford was your friend.”

{ — location: abbey green, for: anyone <3

IT WAS RARE for drusilla to be let out of the house for so long, almost an entire day, and yet it still wasn't enough for her. her maid had been attached to her hip the entire time, citing duke castillo's concern that his daughter might wander off (she would, but she hardly sees how that's a problem). they'd traversed what feels like all of london at this point, stopping for tea, spending hours in almon's — and yet it wasn't enough, because she feels suffocated.

this being the exact reason she walks beside the first person she sees alone, content with being a nuisance if it means she could blend into the crowd just a bit longer, pretending to inspect the store in front of them, "hello, my apologies for bothering, but could you please pretend as if we have been talking for the better portion of an hour? i'm afraid i have a leech i'm trying to get rid of --" she pauses, "not a literal leech, of course, a leech in the form of a very sweet woman, but i --" and then shakes her head, "you get what i mean."

[loyaltytm]

having grown up admiring the older man, tedros was always happy to be in his presence. he was even more happy to offer his own opinion but that had nothing to do with his admiration for jung, and was rather more involved with the love teddy had for his own voice.

tedros leans over the glass of the display, unafraid to occupy space in the world.

"not at all,” teddy says with a disapproving sigh. “it says: i am admitting wrong. jung — never admit you are wrong. as soon as you think you might be wrong, that means you need to leave! immediately.”

― open, location: fortnum & mason

Jung wasn't rushing. According to his mother, it was undignified and suggested that he was not in control of the manner in which another prioritized their time. Also, it messed up his hair. So, not rushing, but proceeding rapidly through the department store, such that he did not miss the scheduled shift of the only jewelry counter attendant he had not yet... come to know biblically.

"What do we think?" He held the necklace they had put away for him up to the light. In truth, it looked the same as all the other necklaces in the display windows. "Does this say 'sorry, I missed your opening night at Drury Lane because I was teaching my niece to gamble?'"

[loyaltytm]

[loyaltytm]

𝐒𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓

[ cha eunwoo, he/him, cismale ] — was that TEDROS TOUSSAINT? the TWENTY-FOUR year old is a GENTLEMAN, how exciting to see them this season! rumors have it they are FREE-SPIRITED and ADVENTUROUS, but i’ve heard they are RAMBUNCTIOUS and INTENSE as well — maybe that’s why they’ve been called the PROTAGONIST. I have even heard that HE IS EMBARRASSED OF HIS REAL NAME AND GOES BY AN ALIAS  —  only time will tell. 

full name: theodorus cassain toussaint. nickname: tedros, teddy, ted age: twenty-four gender + pronouns: cismale + he/him sexuality: bisexual marital status: unmarried, unbetrothed

nationality: british social standing: gentleman, is the only son and heir to his family's fortune languages: english, korean (fluent), german (conversational), latin (reading) education: oxford university occupation: competitive rower  hobbies: rowing, fencing, horseback riding, being the centre of attention

height: 6’2" build: muscular, his supreme physique acquired through years of strict athletic scheduling hair: cropped black hair, a well-maintained coif eyes: sparkling with a challenge complexion: bruises everywhere! he's strong, with flesh like a peach. fashion: if he could walk around shirtless, teddy would. he sweats a lot.

biography:

if little rissa is born three-times luckier than the rest, what does that say for young theodorus who had the good fortune to be born a boy? the event of his birth is unlike his sisters' in many ways. when the butler passes along the news that the lady delivers a healthy baby lacking nothing, hugo toussaint heaves a sigh of relief. for at last, after years of trying, they finally have an heir and their name will live on.

as the years crawl forward, young theodorus grows into the levity of his name becoming god's gift to the toussaints indeed. he finds a love for all things young heirs should love — manly pursuits such as the way of the sword, and swimming, and hunting. the paperbound aspect of owning land comes to him in time, but that was lady's work anyway ( admittedly, his perception of women and their responsibilities is partially skewed due to his strong-willed sister ). these manly pursuits he boasts don't suit such an awkward name. he begins to excel but all of his accomplishment shouldn't belong to such a strange name like theodorus. no. they should be acclaimed to the heroic tedros. fortunate, like his big sister.

his oxford acceptance has little to do with his studying, the university apparently wanting him for his athletic prowess and good name ( tedros toussaint simply rolled off the tongue, you see ). decidedly, they actually take him because of a pretty penny sent along his letter of interest. he discovers the cheque stub in his father's study. when he asks his father about it, he gives him a curt response — we saved so much by keeping you at home, its barely a fraction of what those eton boys have spent to get in. the reasoning makes sense but the way his father burns it to ash in front of his eyes makes him feel like this is a secret to be kept. it's a secret between men, nothing of interest for the world to know.

regardless of how he gets in, tedros supplants himself as the quintessential oxford boy. upon his graduation, he is a certified gentleman. now, with his upcoming debut into high society, he knows that his athleticism, good nature and healthy relationship with his family will land him a healthy match. a young duchess would do nicely, he thinks.

tldr; jock hates his name and because he genuinely doesn't have a single problem in life, bases his entire sob story around it

personality:

as the toussaint's long-awaited son ( in their patriarch's words, a disappointing spatter of three girls before him ), he's always been afforded the most attention of all his sisters. tedros is used to being the centre of attention and if your eyes aren't on him, give him a couple of minutes and they will be. he is constantly up to dramatics. he's simply a showman, he can't help but be the protagonist.

whereas his sister would be labelled as rebellious for her free-spirit, that same trait manifests as adventurous in their parents' eyes. he's on the wild side with his rambunctious temperament but its written off as boyish fun.

tedros has been, on occasion, referred to as intense. his inherent competitive gene was activated by the constant challenge of having rissa as a sister. despite his drive to win, once the game is over, he's nothing but a good sport.

he is a true gentleman. the chaste man shies away from deflowering and dalliances other men his age find interest in.

possible connections:

adoring fans from his sporting competitions

schoolmates from oxford

sports rivals ( again in rowing, fencing, or hunting)

in an effort to bring more eligible and handsome men to the ton, i want to implement a degenerate society where hotties are besties drink and smoke <3 but tbh teddy doesn't indulge bc his body is a temple but he’s there for vibes

[loyaltytm]

she preens under the captain’s grin, simply melting into puddled goo at his feet. maybe it was better that laurie wasn’t around.

pippa had always had a small crush on captain charles — one that her brother would ( likely ) not approve of. he was a known critic of her taste but she at least she had taste. her brother’s eyes followed anything that walked ( which was a gross double standard that he held her to ) and the captain was far more than that. not only was he a perfect gentleman, captain charles was also extremely easy on the eyes!

“reliable like yours?” pippa hums, meeting his gaze between her fluttering lashes. any innuendo her words imply are lost on her, drunk on his smile. she doesn’t know much about riding really, but she knows that men usually do. the captain clearly knew what he was doing.

“truly,” it’s a miracle her tongue works in his presence. she’ll remember to say her prayers tonight. “you are my hero, captain charles. i have no choice but to sing your praises. how lucky i am to have run into you today.”

It was so easy, in his occupation, to crave being seen as a hero. Perhaps it made them feel better about the less savory parts of their lives, to be seen in a romantic light. Perhaps it was simply because it was fun to flirt. Either way, it was certainly a vice the captain fell victim to. 

Besides, being seen as heroic would only make his task in London easier.

He was all formality as he bowed, “Lady Montford” but there was a twinkle in his eye that seemed to hint that, if he had his way, there would be no need for formality.

“I think many businessmen would see buying horses below them. Shrewd business is, if I understand correctly, paying the best expert to do the right tasks. You have an expert at your discretion, and I do not even require pay. How many business men do you know who could achieve that?” 

“He is a beautiful horse, the wild ones often are, I suspect they do it on purpose, to tempt us into danger.” One again his eyes met hers, “perhaps that is what you are looking for?”

“If not, I’m sure we could find you a more reliable steed.”

[loyaltytm]

london was wonderful at this time of year. with each day that passed, the streets filled with more and more fervour with each arrival of lords and ladies and defective diamonds ( of which she was sure they would never measure up to her and her personal delusions ). with all the hubbub, one simply never knew who they might run into.

it was simply pippa’s good fortunes that carry her to a window in which she spies aloysius ponsonby inspecting truffles and treats and what have you. therefore, as a woman who rarely refused the help of lady luck, of course she creeps into the store with all the stealth that a young lady in a daringly pink gown can muster and must now pretend to care about cheese lest she look like the crazed fangirl that she is. he doesn’t seem to notice the deception. or, if he does, he doesn’t say anything about it. either way: the duke of oxford is speaking to her. oh how she loves london in the season!

she could faint.

pippa gives a giggle, light-headed with attention. “a gift for who, your grace? not another lady, i hope! because although wonderfully fragrant,” her dimples smile betrays nothing. “i fear you may be in search of something prettier?”

━━»•»   with  @loyaltytm   ⁄⁄   phillipa   montford   at   fortnum  and  mason

with  the  new  season  comes  the  renewal  of  the  same  old  routine:    shopping  at  fortnum  and  mason  always  reminds  him    —    much  as  he  tries  not  to  admit  it,    even  to  himself    —    of  his  mother;    every  new  trinket  or  treat  he  picks  up  on  the  shelf  making  him  think    would  she  like  this?    and  always  making  a  decision  for  a  gift  based  on  the  answer.    it’s  not  an  entirely  good  strategy,    but  it’s  also  the  only  strategy  that  he  has    …    unless,    that  is,    he  asks  someone  else  for  their  opinion.    every  year,    something  always  stops  him;    yet  this  year,    he  musters  up  the  courage,    if  only  because  he  knows  that  the  lady  phillipa  montford  likes  him  well  enough  to  not  only  suffer  his  music,    but  also  his  presence.    ❛    and  what  are  your  thoughts,    my  lady,    ❜    he  starts,    almost  as  way  of  greeting,    ❛    about  what  would  be  the  fashionable  gifts  to  give  for  this  season?    ❜    he  picks  up  a  jar  of  tea  leaves,    uncapping  it  before  presenting  it  to  the  lady.    ❛    the  ever-dependable  tea,    for  example    —    where  would  we  be  without  it?    ❜

[loyaltytm]

giddy at having known something, phillipa feels like a preening peacock. she takes a seat on the lush chaise with a bright smile on her face — her skirts puffing prettily just so as she settles into the edge of her seat. “oh, how wonderful!” she gushes, “my mother as well!” she just loves talking about her mother. clasping her hands together, pippa’s cheeks dimple. “well, not entirely chinese but she spoke the language much better than i did. she always tried her best to pass it along to me in case we ever went to shanghai, but i am still longing for the day.”

Mingxia couldn't help but have a smile on her face when the other said hello in Mandarin, letting out a light laugh before covering her mouth with her hand. "You were correct in your assumptions. My mother is Chinese. Nihao, Lady Phillipa. I am Lady Magnolia Wetherby my father is the Earl of Cambridge." Gesturing to the chair across from her to for Phillipa to sit in before she prepared the tea. "Come, sit. You must tell me where you learned this little bit of Mandarin from."

[loyaltytm]

“you know how animals have better senses than humans?” he takes a small pride in this narrative that he paints, relishing in her panic. the english were so careless. “your… petite lapin? now they reek of you. the mother will refuse it. likely to leave it to die.”

loyaltytm​:

“keep it then,” avery says with a shrug. he gives his cigar a delicate tap, cinders disappearing into the grass. “now that you’ve picked it up, the miserable thing’s mother will abandon it.”

the princess drew back in confusion at his reply. “what do you mean abandon it?” she asked holding the bunny to her chest. realizing she may had done something wrong unintentionally. 

[loyaltytm]

he turns so quickly he might get whiplash. he knew it. the books made him look poor. this woman thought he was a plebeian book merchant. now, avery was a merchant. but of fine, exotic teas.

the informality of his language isn’t lost on him, “tu penses que je travaille ici?” payback for thinking he was poor.

truthfully, it was like finding a sip of water in the sahara while suffering in the overbearing sun — french was music to his ears in a land of harsh glottal and crisp accenting. maman had implemented a strict anglo policy at home, forcing the parisian auclairs to learn the ugly language in preparation for their big move. nearly all of the people he’d known throughout his schooling spoke french to a degree but none spoke had the fluency or grace of a native speaker. certainly not like her — a certifiable french woman. he’d rather suffer the indignity of english than hear his mother tongue butchered.

Location: Almon's Books

Who: @loyaltytm // Avery Auclair

Emmeline missed home. She missed her mother tongue. It seemed that the only way that she could hear French from others that weren't her family was written. She made her way to the bookshop that her maid told her about and stepped through its doors. Spotting the shopkeeper, she approached him. "E-Excuse-moi?" Tu ne peux même pas dire 'excuse me'? She thought to herself before shaking it off and continuing her inquiry. "I-I was wondering if...you had any..ehm-livres en français?" Clearing her throat, she remembered the English words. "My apologies, books in French?"

[loyaltytm]

"keep it then," avery says with a shrug. he gives his cigar a delicate tap, cinders disappearing into the grass. "now that you've picked it up, the miserable thing's mother will abandon it."

location: hyde park. open starter

“excuse me.” the princess called over, “is this creature yours?” she asked with a small smile, “if not i think i have decided to keep him.”

[loyaltytm]

he hated them. he truly did. his bones ached with rage whenever he had the misfortune of crossing paths with any of the miserable members of the ton. especially the ladies. especially this lady with her tight curls and insufferable smile and haughty air. but, fortnum and mason did indeed stock his main inventory of exotic goods and it did indeed fetch a better price than any other store on the block.

he raises a brow as avery fixes a look at her down the barrel of his nose. "sorry, the tea room is that way if you're waiting on a gentleman." which avery certainly was not.

place: fortnum and mason; afternoon; open to all

though unusual for a lady in many ways, hero was still an enjoyer of the finer things in life. silks and jewels and operas and expensive teas... the latter of which was the reason for a small trip to fortnum and mason, alongside two maids that had been given free reign to choose some delicacies for miss robinson and themselves. at the moment, hero was browsing some handsomely decorated marzipans, when she caught sight of something, or rather, someone, interesting. ❝ look what the cat has dragged in. ❞ hero said slyly, approaching the person with a sweet smile that almost disguised the sardonic air that accompanied the greeting.