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
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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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]