Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Mission Monitor Board Victorian Flirting Thread

Oh, my. A delicate constitution is such a burden, Mr. Brainiac. I know this to be the case. You see, a very dear friend of mine, Osgood Mellonmuffin III, was felled by a delicate constitution. Well, no sooner did he get up, when he was felled yet again. Poor, sweet Osgood. After being felled several more times, he finally decided to just stay put on the floor. In fact, I'm going to visit him later this month to flip him and fluff his velvety bolster.

Heavens! Delicate constitutions, such as this one , should definitely be handled with utmost care.

I say, what does poor Mr. Mellonmuffin do when he needs to go to the toilet, Mr. Boy?

Now, Mr. Brainiac, such indelicate things need not be discussed. I am sure Mr. Mellonmuffin has a faithful manservant who assists him in personal matters.

And Mr. Ram Boy, where are my manners? Do please join us on the sopha for some of Aunt Ida's storied beverage?

I heartily apologize, Mr. Rockhopper. Whatever came over me? I do believe it is this fever I am nursing. Perhaps I do need to go lie down.

Yes, please join us, Mr. Ram Boy. There is more than enough room on this spacious sopha.

Mr. Braniac's indiscreet inquiries aside, I ought not partake. Really I ought'nt.

Oh, but then seeing the two of you worthwhile gentlemen partaking together upon that plush sofa just whisks me back to the days when I was captain of the Yale (No, not THAT "Yale") Manly Men's Poetry Society! The chaps and I would sit on our worn (but beloved) green leather sofa reading masculine poems to each other and sharing our deepest secrets.

Maybe just a sip.

There is an abundant supply, Mr. Ram Boy. Now, please sit (there's a good fellow) and allow me to relieve some of that tension you have. You may join in, Mr. Brainiac.

I say, this does feel marvelously relaxing.

What better way to spend a weekend, then just three masculine men enjoying each other's company.

<font face="cursive"><span style="font-size: 16px;">My Dear Sirs,

I was out enjoying a lovely stroll on the beaches of Charleston with my young friend Miss Fanfic, when I received word that young Mr. Brainiac might be feeling a tad poorly. Miss Fanfic graciously arranged for one of the help here to deliver some fresh, hot broth to your kitchens. Please look for it on the back of the stove. I hope you will find it to your liking, as Miss Fanfic's chef is quite a master at working with hot items.

I trust that Mr. Brainiac is in good hands with you, and will be recovered in short order.

Do take care, my Dear Sirs. At the risk of seeming forward, my thoughts do fly to you often. I have, in fact, been regaling Miss Fanfic with many delightful tales of the elevated conversations and comradely moments that you have so often shared with me.

Please let me know how Mr. Brainiac's health fares after a few days of your kind attention.

Sincerely,

Miss Cleome, 45</font f></span>

Ah, both Miss Cleome and Mr Brainiac raise epistolary writing to a high art form. Well done, my friends.

It's so easy to impress people with green ink isn't it???


I know ... my Victorian flirting skills need work.

My dear Mr. King, your language is quite... interesting. You are not from these parts, are you?

My dear Mr. Rockhopper, that is such high praise indeed, coming from one with such class as you!

Thank you, Mr. Brainiac. You are always so kind. Do please have some more of Aunt Ida's Special Lemonade. Perchance afterward we may want to take a walk by the river and have some riparian entertainments.

Why yes, Mr. Rockhopper, I shall gladly accept your delightful invitation!

Here, please also have some more lemonade. Would you prefer honey or sugar?

Thank you. I think Aunt Ida's lemonade is delicious as it is. She says what makes it sweet is also what gives it other properties.

Oh dear, I apologize most profusely. I certainly did not intend to imply that Aunt Ida's lemonade was imperfect in any way.

It is just that, where I come from, our drinks are positively swimming in syrup and sugar.

I heartily agree with you, Aunt Ida's lemonade is just wonderful. One sip and I feel invigorated already!

Gentlemen, you know I enjoy a dalliance with Aunt Ida's special concoction, as much as the next brigand, but the time has come to set aside childish things, and as the dark lady doth beseech, "screw your courage to the sticking place." I implore you give me pause. My delightful manservant, Bryce, has embarked upon a misadventure of Homeric proportions. Not barely a fortnight ago, he said he was leaving to go cruising. I am quite beside myself with worry for his safety. Why the poor young man wouldn't know the difference between an astrolabe and a sextant.

Not at all, dear fellow. We all have different tastes. Chacun a son gout, as they say. Though I have yet to meet a gentleman who didn't fancy Aunt Ida's special elixir.

My Dear Mr. Fellow, how good it is to see you again after all this time!

Dear, dear, what a predicament. Have you not heard from Mr. Bryce all this time, then? Perhaps we should indeed "screw our courage", and set out to find him. If the poor chap is indeed in a bind, he may need us to extricate him.

Lead the way then, Mr. Fellow!

Ah, Mr Fellow, I did not see you come in. It is wonderful to see you again. And fear not, we shall find your man.

Jolly well. But first, let us indulge ourselves in shopping for provisions. Off we are then, to the expedition outfitters. Pith helmets for all.

Thank you, my dear Mr. Rockhopper. I must say, I agree - that anyone would not find Aunt Ida's lemonade delicious is beyond me.

Yes, it would not do to be dressed in less than the best.

I say, these tweed jackets are simply marvelous. You must try one on. And these stout boots would fit your dashing figure quite well.

The mere thought of manservant Bryce out there without the assistance of an astrolabe or sextant fills me with a sense of foreboding.

*Swoons onto a sopha*

Oh, Gracious!

[rushes inside, removes shawl and hat]

My dear young man, how wonderful to see you looking so fit and so well again!

[hands IB the smelling salts]

Gentlemen, please see to poor Mr. Quislet. I shall dash to the pantry and fetch him a small nip of brandy, just in case some stronger measures are needed! I dare say the poor dear looks positively wilted!

Heavens! Quickly, Misters Rockhopper and Fellow, let us assist Miss Cleome in reviving poor Mister Quislet.

Now, Mister Quislet, please allow me to assist you in taking your footwear off. I daresay you would be much more relaxed without them.