SOCIAL STANDING
• UPPER CLASS This is divided into three sections: royal class, which at the time was royal family and spiritual leaders. The middle upper class was for officers, baronets, and lower level lords. The lower upper class included your general rich asshole: wealthy families and large scale businesspeople that built their fortunes.
• MIDDLE CLASS Middle class is in two subsections, higher and lower. The only differentiation here was between salaries and social standings. Higher middle class was more likely to be able to secure any kind of upward mobility. Lower middle class people usually worked under higher middle class. A mid-level merchant as opposed to the person working for them.
• WORKING CLASS Working class were the hard laborers and tradespeople - the skilled class and the unskilled class. Think an undertaker as opposed to a gravedigger.
• UNDER CLASS The lowest of the low in society's eyes, we have the poor: people who were destitute and relied on the charity of others, orphans; and prostitutes, who were under much debate at the time as far as decency went. Also, they were being murdered by Jack the Ripper, so you know, ymmv.
GENRES
• ROMANCE Did you know that Anne Brontë wrote what is considered the first sustained feminist novel in a Western society? Well, now you do. In this, take your main characters, watch them suffer for 300 pages, and eventually they'll realize they're meant for each other. It's all a bit gothic though, isn't it? Dreary, brooding. Sometimes awful things happen. But we've got love (sometimes) and marriage (more often) in the end.
• HORROR Did you know that a vampire is haunting this small town? Werewolves the next town over? Ghosts in every manor? Did you hear about that scientist that went mad? What kind of place is this? Maybe that masqued ball isn't a good idea.
• SCIENCE FICTION You've got a time machine, or you live in a steampunk dystopia set in Victorian times. Perhaps you have a flying machine that's quite advanced or you've traveled to the bottom of the sea or the center of the earth.
• MYSTERY Do you want to be the greatest detective that ever lived? Or perhaps their sidekick. You're not as bumbling as people 200 years from now may try to say you are. Solve thefts, catch Jack the Ripper (good riddance), do whatever! Just put your brains to the test.
• SLICE OF LIFE The simple things. Perhaps you're a lord throwing an expensive party. Perhaps you're showing off your charity by inviting the lower classes. Perhaps you're a merchant on a trade ship to another place. It's your daily life and you're living it. Just be yourself.
• FANTASY Perhaps you want something lighter. You want to travel down the rabbit hole or through the looking glass or be a princess or live in a fairy tale meeting mystical creatures.
As always, these are just suggestions and you can pick your scenario from your genre. Also, not all examples are Victorian era but we do what we want in these parts because the meme cops aren't going to get us (even though we're not them). Make up anything you want, as long as you're having fun! Make sure to post a short backstory in your top level comment so people know how to work with your AU! |
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bakerstreet2018-12-17 08:18 pm
kylo ren ( STAR WARS ) ota
alucard. hellsing.
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Ice powers might tickle him because she's not boring - lmk if you want anything changed
More guards had been ordered to patrol the town at night in the hopes of putting the townspeople at ease, but also in the hopes that should there be something out there they stop and catch it.
Because it's to sooth her people, she hasn't upped the guard at the palace though. She moves about her room as the night grew late and waved to one of her attendants that still lingered in her bedchamber.]
Leave me.
[The maid dips into a deep curtsy before slipping out the doors, leaving Elsa in her room alone. She's only in a night shift as she walks onto the balcony, enjoying the warmer night wind on her skin. She may be able to craft ice from thin air and the cold may not bother her, but she's enjoying the warm air as it tugs at the loose french braid her hair rest in over one shoulder.
In the silence of the night, after a while, she'll turn and head toward her bed.]
looks good!
some people suspect the newcomer, but others can't bring themselves to because whenever anyone speaks to him he's a complete gentleman, kind and generous and personable. his accent is hard to place but musical when he speaks, and he's made headway with charming people all around.
it's strange to not see him in the day but he's otherwise not suspicious in the least.
he didn't start out with eyes on the queen. he'd started small, a few people here and there to quench his thirst. no intents of turning anyone, just draining people dry and leaving without a trace. he favors young women but there are the rare men effected as well. he very seldom picks children, rather leaves them be. they're hardly sufficient. still, after hearing more and more about the queen, he decides he'd rather like to take a closer look at her.
some people claim a wolf-creature stalks those that are killed and it lends little credence to their tales but they're not wrong. tonight though it's a dusky owl that alights on the railing of elsa's balcony, eyes a deep knowing red as they watch her trail back toward her bed. it hoots quietly, companionably, perhaps waiting for something. ]
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it's hard to be accused of something when, aside from being new, no one knows only politeness and kindness. and it's honestly the best way to slip under the nose of the royalty and guards because they'll only smile at the mention of your name and shake their heads in disagreement even should someone try to accuse him.
as for strange not to see him during the day, Elsa went through a phase where people didn't see her for days or weeks growing up at a time due to her budding powers and her inexperience controlling them. So while some may hem and haw about it, most won't comment on it because they've seen similar from their Queen.
the wolf whispers, well, those she considers. not regarding a man, but regarding an actual wolf. while the lack of signs of the people missing concerns her, they do have some forest at the edge of the town and wolves are heard there now and again. less someone and more something. less human looking, more animal in appearance.
the soft sound on her balcony has her turn. nearly too bright blue eyes, the color of ice but with a warmth to them regard the owl and she can't help but take a step toward it curiously. she doesn't remember seeing owls with those eyes before and it strikes her as very odd.]
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he sleeps beneath the manor in the daytime, in his coffin, in his dirt. it's all he's known for many years now, isn't it? it's nothing he worries after. should this house be compromised, he has several other spots waiting that he could flee to, and one box besides that could take him home. he'd rather not need any of them, but he's very thorough.
when she turns toward him he's struck by how lovely she is: the owl's head cants aside and it hoots again, gently, eyes lidding as it puffs up comfortably. there are many ways he could go about this but he'll stick with this one for now, unless things change.
if he's honest he aches to simply transform now, to take her off guard and taste her, but patience is something he still has and he waits, wondering if she'll come close enough for him to peer directly into her eyes. perhaps he can influence her then, gain an invitation inside. if need be he'll take the form of a man and grasp her close before she can retreat inside, but he's hoping to avoid that. ]
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to be fair, even if the guard were to knock or search the manor, if he's underneath it and they don't know where he is they wouldn't exactly know he's there. none in this area have ever come across a vampire before, so none would even think to look below in the dirt. but it never hurts to be prepared either.
to her, despite the off-putting color of eyes, he looks cute, fluffy, and adorable. a canine might have paused her heart as she wondered if he were to rip her to shreds right there on the spot. however this little owl on her balcony, well, it can't possibly offer any trouble. at least that's what she thinks.
she moves closer to him, out onto the balcony. the warm breeze tugs at her blond hair and the pale night dress she's wearing but it doesn't stop her, quite the contrary, it pushes her forward a little. a warm embrace from the night, encouraging her to move closer still to the soft bird that's caught her attention.]
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he's glad she hasn't turned back. it's a nice night, the breeze ruffling the owl's feathers before it shakes itself out a little with an indignant hoot. he's gotten good at playing the animal too, after all this time. out of all his choices, it's clear that the owl was the correct one. a wolf too fiendish, a bat unlikely to be found approachable enough.
but a friendly owl...
it hops closer to her as she moves, clicking its beak and looking up at her with wide round eyes. he's thoughtful about how he wants to do this, but the closer she gets the better. for now he concentrates on a soothing and calm aura to better put her off her guard when he makes his move. it shouldn't make her sleepy, but it should make her feel more comfortable and pliant for his more forceful attempts at getting into her mind.
that is, if it works. he expects it to, but this is after all the queen. ]
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a bat might have found the wrong end of a broom with Elsa, or just been frozen in place before she called the guards in to dispose of it or shoved it off the balcony to the grass below. she had a couple hunting dogs, so while not exactly the friendly response he's getting now short of a growl she'd have been curious, cautious, but kept her distance.
the owl, however. that shake of feathers and indignant hoot have her smile, and it's a smile that lights up her features as she chuckles softly. she dips slightly to be a little more on eye level with the owl, humming softly at how at ease she feels. some of the tension from earlier, from dealing with her people melts out of her a little more.
she's strong willed, stubborn, and it might take a little work to get into her head. but her powers aren't something mental that would naturally build up walls. and she's never dealt with any kind of psychic attack or push before.]
I'm not sure I have anything for you to eat, unless you like grapes.
[ the words are soft. and oh how little she knows what she's getting herself into, all but offering the little owl a snack.]
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still, this is going very well. the owl shifts, resting on one foot and then the other, not looking away from her in the least. take me in, he thinks, a gentle urge more like a push. certainly better that way. it shifts its wings, fluttering a bit, but doesn't take off.
for a moment it looks like it's considering, then it clicks its beak again, lightly, tilting its head toward her like it's looking to be pet. let me in. more insistent, now. invite me inside. how strange to invite a bird in, but it seems so friendly.
the irony of offering the owl a snack isn't lost to him and if he could, he'd smile. ]
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her hand stretches gently out toward the owl as it shifts and fluffs itself. though when it flutters its wings, she pauses. the slightest crease along her brow says she worried for a moment that she'd scared the little thing off.
but when he doesn't leave, she stretches her arm out more. Offering a perch for him to settle on. she should think about the talons, the hawk trainers use thick gloves to protect their skin but that's not here or there in her thoughts. especially not when she clearly has to invite this little bird in.]
Come on in, little one.
[the words aren't mumbled like a trance, but more like she fully meant them. like she fully wants to bring this little owl inside so he can get a little food.]
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good, he thinks, you're doing a good thing.
someone as wicked as him doesn't think of the ramifications, the thought process behind tricking his way into the lovely queen's room. but now that he's here, all he can think of is his next move.
the owl nibbles gently at her hand: not enough to hurt or scratch, but a means of affection. a curiously tame owl, perhaps someone's pet.
so soon as they're inside, he can make the shift. ]
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the gentle nudge of affirmation only causes her smile to brighten a little as she nods in agreement though to what she's not even thinking about.
there are guards outside in the hallway. the shadow of them pacing back and forth occasionally obscures the little light that shines under the door. but other than that they are alone in the queen's room. she still doesn't have any king or king like prospects, which might have been rumored about in the town as well. people always wondering when she'll settle down, marry, start a family.
the nibbles have her chuckle lightly as she turns slowly from the balcony and walks into her room. she's not moving fast so as not to spook or dislodge the owl on her arm, happy to bring him inside to the safety and privacy of her room.]
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the owl sits carefully on her arm as she moves, looking around the room so soon as they enter it. it remains a moment, hooting once, before things shift and the room seems to darken. he knows he's being bold. he knows that if a single thing goes wrong he'll be leaving the country as soon as the next night.
but he's never backed down from a challenge.
the darkening is because now, instead of an owl, there's a strange dark cloud of fog that briefly surrounds her. it's cold, clearly not enough to bother her, but eventually it takes form as a man, tall and pale. he smiles and it's too sharp, shrouded in his dark coat as he is. ]
Good evening, your majesty.
[ if she tries to speak, to cry out, she'll find she can't. that's his influence too, the press of his will.
however, he's not controlling her body, opting instead to concentrate on possibly alerting the guards.
he dips into a short bow, a mockery of politeness, before lifting his head to look at her. his voice is low as he speaks. ]
I've heard tales of your beauty, and none of them were mistaken or exaggerated.
Sorry for the slow - Holidays have me running every which way
her eyes widen and she backs away a couple steps from the man. hand sliding to her throat as she tries to scream for the guards but can't seem to get any words out at all.
impossibly blue eyes narrow at the bow and words, darkened by the fear she would never admit and the anger at someone coming into her rooms like this. in a fashion she never could have anticipated from someone, turning from animal into man.
she tries to demand the reason for his intrusion, but again no words come.
her hand fists by her hip at her side, and its not so much the action that should bring attention but the fact that there's a hint of cold steam rising from it and the air around them both lowers considerably. her skin, her body, doesn't react to the cold she's creating, instead keeping it's pale but warm glow like she's standing out on the balcony in the warmer breeze of the night.
lips pursed, she watches him, waiting for what he might do next.]
Cassandra de Rolo | Critical Role
Alfred ( Vikings )
Mary Crawley | Downton Abbey
Arthur Kirkland/England | Hetalia | OTA
Alfred Pennyworth | Gotham | OTA
Nico Acosta | OC | M / F
Evie Montgomery | OC | F / M