bakerstreet | Call me old-fashioned

Entry tags:

[meme] shipping

Call me old-fashioned

Courting

It's getting pretty serious, cop to it or not. You want to snag this person for your new best gal/guy, but you're in an old-fashioned world. Or you've got an old-fashioned mind stuck in a modern world. Or it's possible you just like the classics.

Whatever the case, it's time to pull out the stops, bust out the flowers, and take your honey dancing. Or something.

Top level.
The characters who reply are going steady.
Yes, it's old school. Embrace it.
♥

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Let this little dork woo you! Journal has prefs]

Edited 2018-08-27 16:02 (UTC)

[Smooth operator here. From what he remembers. Journal has prefs!]

[ her canon takes place in the 1100's so yeah... very old-fashioned. ]

( canon is 1920s but i'm willing to adapt to anywhen. )

[m/f default, open to m/m with discussion. canon or modern au.]

[ Elizabeth loves her sister; all of them, of course, but none quite so much as Jane. It's only for this reason that she keeps agreeing to go out in double dates with frankly some of the stupidest men either of them has had the misfortune of spending an evening with. Jane is too kind, far too kind, far too forgiving of their faults and after the third or fourth pick Elizabeth's lost all faith in her character judgment.

And yet here she is playing wingwoman at a small party hosted by some rich tosser called Charles. The son of a friend of their fathers, evidently, with friend truly meaning something more along the lines of business associate.

Introductions are made, and while she has to admit Charles has a kinder face than all of the rest of her sister's suitors, his quizzically browed friend decidedly does not. He'd be attractive, she supposes, if it weren't for the flat line of his mouth and his apparent disinterest in everything going on around him. She's as content to ignore him as he is her for the first hour while Jane and Charles facilitate a conversation between the four of them and do most of the talking, but inevitably as these things are wont to do, Jane and Mr. Bingley slip off to speak privately.

They leave her alone with Mr. Darcy, and an utterly awkward silence in their wake. A beat or two pass with nothing to fill the gap, and so she figures - what the hell, she may as well take the initiative, things couldn't really be any worse. ]

Would you like a drink?

[ Not that this is her house, not that the bottle of wine on the table is hers to offer, but god, at the very least she could use one. ]

[ Darcy loves his sister dearly as well, but she is not the reason he's at this get together. No, the reason he's suffering through a party of strangers is Charles, who is rich but not generally considered a tosser. No, he's too nice and generous of spirit for that. Nice enough to be taken advantage of, unless there's a slightly older, far more cunning wingman to keep him on the straight and narrow.

Unless Charles goes off with a pretty but quiet little blonde, leaving him alone with the girl's sister. A pretty brunette who he's been ignoring for the better part of an hour. From the expensive cut of his suit, it's probably obvious that Charles' friend can also be counted as a business associate type of friend too. And it seems he's so caught up with staring over everyone's head and looking intimidating that her question doesn't immediately register. Or that she even asked a question until almost a minute has flown by. ]

I don't know.

[ He's about to ask what kind, but she's rather pointedly looking at a red of some indeterminable vintage. Besides, it's not his house either. Charles rented it to get away from his sisters. ]

Yes. That would be nice.

[ She'd be offended if she weren't so amused, probably, by the rigidity of his shoulders and his pointedly ignoring the date he's been set up with. Just as well, she thinks, considering half of them by this point would have tried to stuff a tongue down her throat or a hand up her skirt, and the other half would've talked about something she had no interest in for hours at length.

May God strike down whoever invented Fantasy Football.

Even so, his initial answer draws an undeniable arch to her brow. I don't know, he says, which is... an unusual reply, and she does her best not to look too much like she's judging him for it. Alright, then.

She shifts, rises, slides forward to withdraw a pair of wine glasses hanging from their stems on the rack nearby. Pours them each a glass with a portion probably twice what might be considered sensible, and carefully sets his before him. ]

Do you often accompany your friend on dates, Mr. Darcy?

[ She tries, over the sound of music fading into the room. It's clear, then, that Charles and her sister have taken off to try and get the dance floor populated. Elizabeth imagines that it won't take much, Jane has a magnetic way of drawing people in when she looses herself enough to have fun, and half the women in the neighborhood have had eyes for Charles since he moved in. ]

[voice testing.]

...Just take them.

[ there's not even so much as a hello when lon'qu sees agnum. there's only his brusque command, a thrusting of a small box at agnum's chest. this is all madness. lon'qu's never had feelings for anyone before, but being around this idiot makes him feel like someone's drugged his tea. he can barely finish his training routines without the redhead's face coming to mind; things were so much simpler when they were just a pair of strangers who clashed blades whenever they crossed paths.

the small box is full of chocolates, though there's a number of problems with that. lon'qu didn't wrap it, for one, and the price tag is still on. it also looks like he stepped on it at some point. it's not true—he threw it at a wall. ]

I'm taking you... [ his voice trails off. maybe, if he's lucky, agnum has been replaced by an impostor who will now stab him through the chest. ] ...Agnum. I'm taking you out.

[ gods. he hopes he never has to woo anyone again. it doesn't help that his voice is so unpleasant that the last line sounds like an actual threat, delivered with one hand on the hilt of his sword. ]

Edited 2018-08-30 13:04 (UTC)

[ Ohh, it's this guy again.

He's got literally no decorum about him, does he? He wonders if he subscribes to the same school of human interaction as Lestin. Just show up and go for it without ceremony or even basic manners.

Agnum's kind of a wild child, but he at least knows how to conduct himself normally.

The dragoneer looks at the beat up box of chocolates in his hand and then wrinkles his nose at Lon'qu, confused as ever. ]

Hey, so, I dunno if you realize but... handing someone sweets ain't a way to start a fight.

[ He looks at the box again. This is lousy. He's being critical of his lack of effort here. ] What'd I do this time, anyway? I'm not in the mood to take you on. I've got stew to prep.