Ali
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She / Her
Tag me @authorflies
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Post by authorflies on May 27, 2021 3:16:56 GMT
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Honor Bound
"Allow me to realize
my late brother’s wishes."
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Noble
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Botanist
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euphoria
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Tag me @crane
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Post by Sir Phillip Crane on May 30, 2021 21:15:37 GMT
i would merely BE DOING MY DUTY 7. After a bar fight.
❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ Phillip had no idea how it had started. Perhaps, it had commenced with his agreeing to go out with Eloise's brothers. All four of them. While the dynamic had significantly changed from Phillip's first encounter with them -- thank the Lord for that -- he somehow knew that it would not be an entirely peaceful evening. It started with drinking. A lot of it. The crowd was boisterous and everyone seemed to be in high spirits. But as the night progressed and the drinks continued . . . things started to take a turn. A comment was made about one of the Bridgerton sisters, or perhaps it could have been one of the wives. Once again, Phillip had not been entirely certain for he had not heard it. What he did see however, was two men at each other, fists thrown as the impact of the tackle was strong enough to send them crashing to the ground from the breaking of a table.
❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ Neither man was of course alone though, so the others started to take part. And Phillip, had of course gotten entangled in the entire thing. He felt a fist strike his jaw and like any sensible male, he defended himself, striking the man back until the entire crowd was somehow involved. Whether it was attacking, defending, or trying to pry everyone off from each other. It was absolute chaos. Everyone eventually made their way outside, yelling words at each other before going on opposite paths. But, it seemed that the party Phillip was with was in better spirits than the others. Men giving them congratulations and commending them on the attacks. How odd indeed, but this had not been the first time Phillip had been embroiled in such things. It had just . . . merely been a while. Especially in Mayfair, London. He was out of practice, but perhaps that was not so terrible.
❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ He knew that his knuckles may be bruised tomorrow, and he could taste blood on his lips. A cut, or bruise upon his face perhaps . . . hopefully, not one too distinct. They decided to use the night air to cool off during the walk home. It was practically the middle of the night but the fight had certainly sobered them all up. They went to their lodgings, warning each other to be quiet so not to wake the wives, though Phillip could not tell if they were being serious or not. Once he did arrive home however, he quietly made his way inside the house, the dead quietness of it indicating that everyone -- even the household staff -- were asleep. Phillip tried to be as quiet as he could, slightly stumbling as he went up the stairs.
❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ He poked his head into the twin's room, seeing that they were soundly asleep. He then made his way to his shared room with his wife, quietly opening the door and trying to even more quietly, enter. He needed a new shirt, as his own was torn and most probably stained. Damn him, he should have lit a candle before trying to be successful in the dark. It did not help that he was slightly dizzy from the events . . . though most likely from the drink rather than any real, concerning injury. He tried to reach over for one of the candles but instead, knocking it to the ground. As he reflexively tried to catch it before it fell, he instead hit his knee on the dresser and as if that had not been enough to wake his wife . . . cursing "Damn it!" Would have certainly done the trick.
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