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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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One of the cheapest homeless shelters in Victorian London charged four pennies to sleep in a coffin. Which was... still better than sleeping upright against a rope? — Jordan / Lynn
If he was being completely honest, the situation didn't look good, but Sylvano was not in the habit of being completely honest about anything. No reason to start now.
you & me & the war of the endtimes


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all out of F—s
#1
3rd January, 1895 — High Street
Tess had closed the printshop on New Year’s Day, to let them get to the festivities at the park, and because everyone had been working so hard over the holidays and up to the new year that tensions were high. Ned Whitby had died the previous November, so the month would have been hard enough to get through even before Maggie’s arrival sending everyone for a loop. Still afraid of the other shoe dropping, and the other ramifications that might come with that, they had worked solidly through, looking high and low for any business they could get to bolster their savings all that they could.

She had been in Diagon Alley a few days ago, up to her neck in stress – and a bonbon was unlikely to fix anything, no matter how Tess wished she didn’t care so much about everything. But she had had a better night’s sleep since, and didn’t feel fazed by anything. Take today, for example: something had gone wrong with the presses, or the typesetting, or a bad batch of ink – it was skipping letters on their print jobs. Tess had glanced at the first pamphlet when it came out spelling SU--RAGE (she had left the paid jobs to the others, and set about on her own thing) and just laughed. All the jobs were the same, missing letters here and there. Until they fixed this, work would necessarily grind to a halt. This was, strictly speaking, more Tess’ problem than Enoch’s or Declan’s.

But she couldn’t bring herself to care. Instead she’d gone out as Archer – for some pre-arranged meeting with a supplier – and had made it no further than The Hog’s Head. She wasn’t quite sure how, or why, but... she had had a drink, and some food, and then a few more drinks – when she thought of the money she was throwing away, she could only think why not? – and apparently it had gotten dark around her before she had made any attempt to return to the printshop. Oh well.

The others might wonder where she had been, but – she wasn’t worried. It felt rather freeing, actually, even more than usual when she was ambling the streets as Archer. It didn’t matter what she did. Nothing mattered at all.

Oh – here was Declan, out on the street! That was a coincidence. Having long forgotten all the trials of the day she had put out of mind as soon as she’d left, Tess grinned at him. “I stole your jacket,” she admitted, unabashed, presuming that was what he was looking for – he’d left it on a table, and she had been too lazy to find her own before going. If her Archer clothes were loose on her, Declan’s jacket was really too big, but then – who cared?
Declan Buchanan



#2
They were waiting for Tess at the shop for so long that Sam and Fabian left to do early deliveries of things they'd made before something went wrong with the process. Declan didn't want to abandon the shop when they could have potential clients coming in, so he stayed behind and read his romance book — feeling vaguely guilty for reading his book instead of finding work to do — until they closed. And then — still no Tess. Also, he couldn't find his jacket, but could find Tess' Archer jacket — maybe she'd mixed them up? He didn't want to borrow it, but also didn't want to go out in the cold in the wrong jacket.

So he settled on no jacket, and walked down High Street towards the Slums at a brisk pace. Kenna was going to make fun of him. He wrapped his scarf loosely around his neck to try to keep warm, and had just about decided that it wasn't too bad when he finally saw Tess.

Tess, in his jacket, and grinning. Declan blinked at her. "Oh," he said, "That's alright — how'd it go?"




set by Bee
#3
It was alright, he wasn’t annoyed – Tess had known it would be.

“How’d...” Tess hummed, trying to remember what it was. “Oh, I didn’t make it. Anyway, it would have been a waste of time,” she said, brushing off the question with a grand shrug and a wave of her hand. “I went to the Hog’s Head instead,” she added brightly. Conveniently, as Archer, she had even been allowed well enough to loiter at the bar for a few hours without being harassed or otherwise disturbed. It had been a rather decent day, all things considered. She should do it more often. “You ever go?”



#4
She hadn't made it? That was so unlike Tess that Declan could only blink again at her. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep out some of the cold, suspecting that he would end up standing here on the cobblestones for longer than he had originally intended. "I've been," he said. "Are you alright?"




set by Bee
#5
“Fine and dandy,” Tess said with another careless grin, swaying slightly on the spot. She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it, even when she considered that that slow blink should have made her feel guilty, or that Declan might have any reason to be annoyed with her.

“Peachy, actually. How are you?” She hoped he hadn’t been at the printshop all this time. That would have been a soul-crushing waste of a day.



#6
Declan watched her, eyes wide, as he tried to figure out whether or not she was drunk. Finally he said, "— I'm a little cold." She did have his coat, after all. And maybe she was drunk, but getting drunk was unlike Tess enough in the first place, so — what was going on?




set by Bee
#7
“Nothing a fast walk won’t cure, I’m sure,” Tess said, glib – not quite teasing, not quite sympathetic. He would be fine: he was probably all muscle from the work or the fighting, anyway.

After all, she had decided, a few days ago, that she worried too much about other people, and needed to lighten up. Surprisingly, it had actually worked in reality – she felt lighter already, about caring less. She stuffed her hands heedlessly in her (well, not her) coat pockets. “But I’m pretty warm. I was going to take another turn.” She nodded down the street, towards the park, in an idle invitation.



#8
Tess didn't make any effort to give his coat back, and nothing she said helped dissipate Declan's worries. So — maybe he should walk with her. It couldn't hurt. "Alright," Declan said, shrugging his shoulders at her. "Let's go wherever you want." He was content to let her lead the way, and Padmore Park wouldn't send him that much out of his way.




set by Bee
#9
If he wanted to tag along, underdressed as he was for the January night, Tess wasn’t going to stop him. She also didn’t care particularly where they were walking, but the emptied park was more appealing than the printshop, over-cluttered as it was today with work they hadn’t done.

“If I were you,” she told Declan, matter-of-fact, “I’d find a different job.” Something less taxing, something less stressful, something more idle and more rewarding. This probably went for all their printshop help. If Tess were them, she would certainly leave for greener pastures.

She felt much better for not being trapped in the printshop all day. “Maybe I should quit, too,” she said with a laugh, bright to the point of unnatural.



#10
He had just about decided that she was drunk,  but then she told him to find a different job, and jested — he hoped she was jesting — about leaving the printshop herself. Declan couldn't help it — his face crumpled with obvious hurt, and he stopped short next to her. She wasn't behaving right, but — the betrayal, for Tess to say something like that.




set by Bee
#11
There was something in his expression, and the way he stopped short, that wanted to make her stomach turn uncomfortably. She felt that deep-seated feeling of discomfort gnawing somewhere in her gut, but before she could sit in it for long enough to take back what she had said, the feeling seemed to slide away. Never mind, then. What had gotten into Declan, anyway? Why did he care so much?

“No need to look like a kicked puppy,” Tess told him, turning towards him, nonchalant but nearly baffled. “You really don’t want to get out? Do something else with your life?” Sometimes, when the workload was high and pressure higher and things weren’t going right with her family or the clients or the world, Tess thought the printshop felt like a sinking ship.

And it didn’t seem half so important tonight. She could – start fresh tomorrow, if she liked. She could work in a shop, probably. Maybe it would be easier.



#12
The crease on his brow increased as she kept talking, and Declan folded his arms over his chest, protectively. "You're being mean," Declan said, a stupid thing to say but all he could think of. "You're being mean and you're wearing my coat." This wasn't like her. Tess could be hard, but — not in this way, and not with Declan.




set by Bee
#13
Was she? Well, he wasn’t being any fun. His company wasn’t usually so tiresome, and she would never ordinarily have dreamt of letting him go if he were upset – he was sensitive, that was all, and felt things sincerely – but tonight she couldn’t drum up any patience.

“Well, you don’t have to walk with me,” Tess put in bluntly. “Here.” She started shrugging herself out of apparently-Declan’s-coat, if he wanted it that badly. She shoved it roughly back at him, because she didn’t need it – even in her Archer clothes, the thinner layers than her winter skirts – Tess couldn’t bring herself to care about the cold. She was carefree, tonight, and no amount of shivering would change that.



#14
Declan blinked down at his jacket. He had more let her shove the coat into his hands than he had taken it, but here it was all the same. Maybe he ought to just go home; surely Tess would be back to her old self in the morning.

But there was something strange about letting her go on her own, anyways. He pulled his jacket on, put his hands in his pockets, and didn't say anything — but didn't turn away, either. If she was still going, then he would follow her.




set by Bee
#15
She turned on her heel and kept walking as she had intended, reaching the park and crunching through the snow briskly as she pleased, heedless of following the paths, heedless of the dark and the dampening cold.

She hadn’t looked over her shoulder to confirm it, but his footsteps weren’t soundless, so. “I know you’re following me,” Tess accused, sing-song. She didn’t care if he did, but also it was odd, when he had just made it clear he didn’t actually feel like talking to her. He had his coat back already; he thought she was being mean; couldn’t he tell she didn’t need him looking out for her, if he didn’t want to be here?


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   Declan Buchanan

#16
Declan was pretty sure he had not heard Tess use that tone before, but it wasn't the strangest thing she'd done tonight, so. Maybe he should let that part lie. "You can't tell me where to walk," he called back to her, feeling stubborn and stupid at the same time. She could do whatever she wanted, apparently, so why couldn't he spend time being worried about her from a few yards back?


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   Elias Grimstone


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