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name: Prudence Hough
--nicknames: Pru (from friends - Ernest, [morphy's character], Brent, [morphy's character's bro]), Prudie (from her parents, some less friendly although well-meaning friends)

age: 22

appearance: Frighteningly fair skin, lightly dotted with freckles, severe olive eyes, and soft black curls mark Prudence's appearance. She's a lovely girl, really (though, her mother says, her nose is too thin and strange, and her eyebrows too thick, her height almost frightening, and her physique too reedy), though she prefers conservative gowns and riding habits to empire-waisted fashions.

occupation: Although a fine equestrian, Prudence, her parents think, will make a lovely bride, although they suppose not for the Durant man. Left to her own devices, Prudence is an author - although only in her dreams, her parents might say. She also teaches dance to young girls, on occasion, though she and her parents are in agreement that this arrangement will end someday. She enjoys riding, and watching those who practice dressage.

history: Prudence's parents are wealthy - her grandfather was a Lord, see, and the technically common part of the Hough family will never forget it. They dote upon their daughter, in a way: they wish nothing for her but a happy marriage with a husband who gives her a large sum of pocket-money and many gentle comforts - a husband she'll grow to love. Perhaps when she was very young she understood this: there was a time when young, toddling Prudie thought nothing of whiling the day away with her dearest friend [morphy's character], penning long notes to her between lessons and rides. And she took well to her engagement to Ernest Durant even from the relatively young age of four and ten, for often she and he (and their fair chaperon, [morphy's character]) took long, pleasant walks together. It'd have been a fruitful one: he was the second son of a count, and, her parents thought, quite a catch for a girl with such relatively humble prospects. And certainly the two liked each other, and Lord Durant was certain to dote upon a girl he acted so sweetly towards!

Of course, the pair was not in love. That was a small matter, the Houghs thought; love would grow. Perhaps Prudence thought so once, too. But dear Ernest thought differently: he'd always been a romantic, and the rising popularity of the romance novel meant that he was determined he (and his good friends, now, Prudence and [morphy's character], too) would marry for love. He went off to public school with hardly a glance back, and Prudence exchanged many letters with him. [morphy's character]'s brother and Ernest became far closer friends there, as well as adopting a shy boy called Brent into their fold. The letters the girls sent to the group as a collective contained stories: not only of daily life, but of the sort of tale Ernest had always liked to spin. They were independent authors at first, but they grew to realize that their stories were better as collaborations.

When the boys finally finished with public school, the ordeal (if that's the right word) left the group of five closer than it'd ever been, and entwined closely. Yet the relationship between Ernest and Prudence lacked romantic love, which was really the only appropriate sort of love a pair of spouses could hold, Ernest thought. Prudence was herself a bit less romantic, but she certainly wouldn't wed Ernest if he wasn't willing, and of course she wouldn't mind love, she thought. There was nothing to be done, though. The couple was to all eyes a perfectly harmonious one; they were already the supposed center of a close-knit social group. It was unreasonable to suggest breaking the troth of what seemed a well-matched pair!

They stumbled upon the solution by accident. The group had begun publishing romance novels under Brent's name, and they were - well, popular! It didn't come as a surprise, Prudence had always said, to the gentle laughter of the group that had now become her closest companions. But Brent's success brought the five intense scrutiny, and they each took on a profession to draw it away: they needed the focus to be on their reclusive friend, for it would become entirely reasonable that the rarely-seen man was so prolific with his words. Prudence taught dance to friends of her family, passing it off as a hobby to anyone who might care about a girl of her blood dipping beneath her station (and really, she was quite good!). Ernest surveyed land.

Horrified, Prudence's parents quickly ended their relationship, although now the quickly-traveling gossip said other, less savory things about Ernest, and spoke condescendingly of Prudence, for she appeared in public with Ernest still quite often (and so to those who didn't know better, it seemed as though she was still foolishly in love with someone who might have wronged her). This has created a considerable amount of tension preceding the upcoming release of the group's fourth novel: it must meet quality and deadline, after all!

But the issue, Prudence thinks, is not from within the group, and so things will work out.
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personality: Prudence is a woman of few smiles but fewer words - for she reserves those for the books and diaries she fills with thoughts and (her parents believe) fantasies. She likes the practicality of it: she can edit and revise her words so they express her opinions perfectly (and perfection is important). It's why she rather preferred penning letters during her engagement to Ernest. When she uses words, she prefers plain ones: the sort that communicate well to a wide audience while still managing to keep her words specific - and pointed, she thinks, and accurate (she has the strange talent of saying things that seem kind but still manage to insult the listener). They also have the considerable advantage of being able to hide her intellect and mental acuity from all but those who share it, and look for it - in truth, Pru is rather selective about those she actually shares her thoughts with. Her parents call it shyness; her closest friend [Morphy's character] knows better. Why, Pru's snobby.

It suits her, though, for she's quite a solitary character. Prudence's hobbies are thinking and writing and riding (hah!) and reading and sometimes needlepoint: none of which require the presence of others. Oh, certainly, there's dance, too (she prefers the stately waltz or the slow, almost archaic basse danse), but she can live without that. She's rather unpleasant when she's disturbed and likes being left to her own discipline: and she has discipline! She uses her admirable eye for detail to perfect her movements and diction; she has focus and a schedule and she gets things done when they need to be done. Even though she's an artist she's focused and quick to edit, adjust, criticize, and that's what her friends probably appreciate about her most.

And though few know it, she's a wonderful friend. Her selectiveness about the subject, she thinks, allows her to dedicate herself wholly to her friends, and she gives to them utmost loyalty, discretion, and even deference. While she's extraordinarily picky about how she should be treated, she's generally fine with their plans and their decisions, even if she herself wouldn't make them. She'll even play along with them (although perhaps she might suggest an adjustment here or there, only in areas she truly has expertise, though): for there is nothing she would like more than for them to succeed. She is skilled at keeping secrets and playing deceptions out, quick to think though sometimes slow to act. Her help, she realizes, is valuable to them (for why would Prudence be their friend if it was not?). And of course, she shares her blessings with them - even her lovely Phantom is also theirs, although they cannot communicate to him in the same way she can. In matters to do with them alone, she's utterly impractical.

Her students might call her humorless; a woman with no appreciation for the finer things in life. She'll only listen to gossip with a pursed lip, and she rarely sighs with them about their romantic prospects. And she hardly enjoys painting or flirting and won't stand for any deviation from her lesson - but they can hardly deny that she's a skilled teacher. Social dance requires grace and discipline, though, and she has those in spades and tends to scold more loudly those who don't. Yet she only really applies her standards and her criticism to those she cares about most - they need to be the best, and they trust her, she thinks, to guide them there. Everyone else, she simply looks down upon.

[+] intellectual (for whatever that's worth)
[+] discreet
[+] loyal
[=] solitary
[=] perfectionist
[=] pessimistic
[=] willful
[-] elitist
[-] conceited
[-] passive-aggressive

relationships:
[morphy's character, f] - Pru's very closest friend, even before all the rest of the group. Pru comes to her first with problems and insecurities, and she can always expect the same confidentiality from Pru.

Lord Ernest Durant - Ah, vexing, beloved Ernest - Pru's known him nearly as long as [morphy's character, f], and she thinks they share a special bond, even if it isn't romantic. She's certainly far more serious and far less frivolous than he is, but she's glad for it because she can't imagine having this particular group of friends without him. To her, he's an instigator, the sort to easily dream up elaborate schemes and plots. To him, she's a source of honest critique. While they're close enough to finish each other's sentences, she tends to be too abrasive and he too daydreamy for a romantic relationship to have worked.

[morphy's character, m] - He hovered in the background of Pru's relationship with [f] for years until he and Ernest attended public school together; now, of course, Pru trusts him innately.

Brent Inglewood - He's a shy, darling man who shares almost uniquely Pru's preference for the written word; they'd both much rather exchange letters than conversation. She appreciates his honesty, discretion, and opinion, and thinks him the wisest among their group. Also, he's funny like one wouldn't believe.

Temperance Hough - Prudence's mother. Quick-witted, eagle-eyed, and the opposite of personable. It's quite easy to see where Prudence got her reclusiveness and her brains, although Temperance clearly funnels hers into a different outlet. She is sharp and business-minded, if business is matchmaking or gossip or being passive-aggressively the best at needlepoint within her social group. Prudie can forgive her first because she's Mother and second because no one can say she doesn't care.

Jonathan Hough - Prudence's father. He looks the picture of an airheaded man of wealth, but hides a propensity for philosophical thought and truly incredible eloquence so that he can snark at others and send anonymous opinion letters from afar. He seems quite philanthropic and a tad narcissistic, and tends to hold his cards close to his chest. Prudie thinks this is commendable, even though she's not sure what her father is doing with his life. It's clearly productive, anyway.

Sterling Hough - Prudence's brother, younger. What can Prudie say, really? He's a bit vain and a bit too fond of his own voice, and an excellent fencer and archer. She thought at first that Phantom had Chosen the wrong Hough, at first, because, well, Sterling's the clear first choice for a warrior. She knows better now, if only because Phantom's eyes seem to gloss over in boredom whenever they're close. Sterling actually looks up to Prudie, even though he'll never admit it. She's never had to posture to look like she knows what she's doing.

Chastity Hough - Prudence's sister, younger. Pru appreciates Chastity for her fearlessness, if anything. For Chastity cares the least of anyone in Pru's family about presentation, which, well, okay, admittedly Chastity isn't too outspoken. She cares tons about, er, mathematics, though. And semantics, and grammar. Pru thinks it's a bit boring, although she's sure Chastity thinks the same of Prudence's own pursuits.