[indent][h2][b][i]L o r d   F i n n e g a n   O a k[/i][/b] 𝓼[/h2][/indent]


[indent][color=silver][i]“Yes,”[/i][/color] Finnegan whisked away from Alexander with a small bright laugh at the man's banal joke, feeling as if he had somehow or another accomplished more than he had originally thought to accomplish, and without even a blush, he slipped back into his demeanor — the one that he would normally resume when conversing and courting a woman such as Evelyn in such an environment. The notable features placed on his face were that he had just made good conversation with his friend, which he had, but he was much too interested in Evelyn to have stepped away for too long, which was almost a half-truth. As eloquent of a man that Alexander Damien Amidale could be, Finnegan could not in all his flamboyant likeness deny the innocent Evelyn in her simple, classic ballgown, and lavender was a very good color for her to wear.

Walking past the party that smelled to be headed by Lady Alyssana, the woman who was supposed to have been attentive towards his guest, Finnegan made a small acknowledgement of thought, but his disposition did not change. He barely noticed the two dolls outside of recognizing the young pink haired woman, only because his brother, Walter, was so fond of her work, and the dolls seemed to gravitate around her like an extra layer of clothing. He had small business to make with her in regards to his brother's new employment and recent move. He knew little about her aside from what he knew for his brother and her being pretty, quaint, and peculiar — as all women should be if they wanted to hold some sort of interest in a gentleman's mind. However, he had no entrance that could gaily make himself more reserved for Evelyn than he had at this current moment, “Dearest Mademoiselle Ashton,” his voice came and stood beside Evelyn and rested a head or so taller than her. The perfume in her hair was making him think perhaps she may start intoxicating the people around her, “Pardon my leave.” 

He was looking down at her as he did when he was giving a false interest in her, deciding what he would most like to do with her if they were not in a crowding library. The young lady clasped her lips tightly into a smile, surprised to see him all of a sudden, as she felt relief for his return and the shyness of her awkwardness towards Lottie, who stole her attention from Finnegan as she was reminded from an oddly forgetful state that she had only seconds ago hesitantly made a compliment towards the tedium of her presence. Her pastel lips parted to make sense of something or explain what was happening, but Finnegan made his own effort to keep her voice to himself. 

“Lady Charlotte Vernell. Beautiful as ever,” his head tucked as Lottie gleefully outstretched her arm with a stiff, bent wrist. The gentleman cupped it into his palm and pressed his own lips against the top of her hand. Lottie and Finnegan were hardly acquaintances, but he knew enough to see her as something worth complimenting and making small suggestions with, “This is my darling Mademoiselle Evelyn Ashton, with whom I see you have already made acquaintance,” his eyes glanced at Evelyn and then landed on Lottie, again, sizing up the coordination of her fashion. After this split second gesture, he proceeded to compliment Evelyn and entertain Lottie about how they met and what a lovely creature she was to him and everyone around her. He also made a small comment on the library's extraordinary extravagance before he and his guest took their leave to the ballroom for a dance. It was something to awaken the young lady as he found her presence becoming much too dull and retired for his boyish pageantry.

The couple exited the library by making their bows to the Captain. The long walk through the foyer was just as long as ever, extending the length of the night into something that was making Finnegan feel more as a babysitter than a suitor. He should not complain though, he reminded himself as slight echoes of footsteps padded on the flooring. She was merely a puppet — or a doll, if that was the language being sought after, for him to have by his side while he enjoyed to the fullest extent of the luxury and passions and poisons of which he just could never-ever seem to get enough, especially in a place that had lackluster care, “This evening has been so lovely, Finnegan,” Evelyn chimed at him. He only agreed for several reasons, and for other reasons, he disagreed. One of those reasons was because her voice sounded rested and weary in more ways than it should. She appeared quite too malleable at this point. However, the pinch of a smile was still worn on her cheeks, and to Finnegan, this was the most important part of a woman's appearance at an event like this.

“As you have been, as well,” he nestled the compliment as if to want her to believe that she was silly for thinking to take away her own accomplishment's of the night away from her, like a good, modest woman of her own kind was raised to do, “Without your presence, I believe only the books would be of interest to me at this point. Perhaps, I would have taken a seat next to the Captain Adrianna Kingsford,” he mused, imagining her enthusiasm of the party. “Even then, I may have asked her to dance, and then what? If we had a dance, she is not you. I fail to understand any enjoyment dancing with her when comparing a dance with you.” 

The woman blushed behind her mask at his words and was able to speak a bashful, thank you to him, not seeing past his dishonest trickery of intellect and naturally rehearsed lines. Finnegan had no real qualms about what he was doing. His aim was to make a constant source of enjoyment of society for himself, and what harm could it be if he shared some sort of light of this enjoyment with others? None, he believed, to see their beautiful smiles brighten the world around them when he spoon fed them lies that they all wanted to hear. Besides, eventually another bloke would come and give them in all honesty the exact same opinion he read from a script in his own mind and actually mean it. For such a reason, he was but merely a small piece of a large sum in their lives and them nearly the same thing in his as well. It all smelled as fair game, and as Evelyn could not quit her lips from from imploring, ‘lovely’ in the most misconstrued manner. 

	[i][color=teal]“Yes,”[/color]
		[color=silver]Finnegan believed:[/color]
			[color=teal]“I am doing this out of love.”[/color][/i][/indent]