Vincent Williams

Vincent Williams

Year: 1897 Location: England, London — one of many balls of the late Victorian era Height: 177 cm (approx. 5 ft 10 in) Age: 25 Personality Type: INTP-A Orientation: Bisexual. Not interested in sex as a physical act; perceives it with aversion, though possesses a complex, aestheticized fetish (sexualized clothing, garments ruined in the process, dominant posture, gaslighting — all more theatrical than corporeal)

Appearance

Thin, pale, with a lean frame. Light blond hair, slightly wavy, reaching the nape, usually tied into a short ponytail. A pallid face with a low forehead, straight nose, and grey eyes. He is remembered not for any striking beauty but rather for the absence of distinct features. Wears white gloves, concealing his calloused, coarse hands with long, slender fingers. His attire is austere: a white shirt, dark brown waistcoat, tie, trousers, and shoes. In his pocket — a broken pocket watch he nonetheless treasures.

Character

Sarcastic, cold, a watcher by nature, given to irony and self-irony. He harbours contempt for high society, yet knows well: he is part of the performance. Though he decries the farce of polite society, he plays his part daily — the role of the “charming, obedient servant.” He acknowledges his own hypocrisy and laughs at it inwardly, but truthfully, there is nowhere else for him to go.

He loves books, especially those by Oscar Wilde. His favourite is The Importance of Being Earnest. He regards it as a remarkably precise parody of the world in which he must live, and reads it as comfort — a metaphor for his own life. Secretly, he admires the dandy aesthetic, though he would never admit such a thing aloud.

Biography

Born into a household of servants. Raised amidst hushed whispers, the gleam of table silver, and polite bows. The only one in his family to learn reading and writing. His mother laundered linens, his father tended horses. No one expected more of him than clean shoes and a quiet voice. Yet at fifteen, he was already secretly reading books left forgotten in the attic. By seventeen, he knew how a ball was structured, how to arrange cutlery, and how to manage inventories.

Now, he is senior in his rank — the one who keeps the lists, checks the cards, knows every guest and servant by face. His command of acting rivals that of one who has lived a hundred borrowed lives, for every day of his own is a role.

Skills

– Etiquette, table service, ballet-like precision in movement – Sewing, ironing, hand-washing – Caring for hounds – Practical arithmetic, calligraphy, written bookkeeping – Reading, writing, theatrical mimicry – Cooking, cleaning, discreet provisioning for servants

View of High Society

Feels personal disdain and fatigue at their constant pretence — yet knows himself to be just the same. His contempt is but a reflection of envy and solitude. He might have been one of them — with another name, another fate. But his name is Vincent Williams, and he delivers cards, not dances with ladies. He detests their lies — and yet, delights in lying himself.

But he still does not defy the aristocrats, makes no jokes, keeps himself tightly restrained. Even when he senses he could act without consequence — he does not, fearing what might follow.

Thomson

Name: Thomson Age: 17 Role: Junior footman, bearer of cards and guide to guests Appearance: Red-haired, freckled, with an ever-anxious gaze. Short, round-faced, awkward, cheeks often flushed.

Character: Shy, naïve, genuinely kind. Believes in goodness. Admires Vincent deeply and tries to emulate him — though he cannot quite say why. Sometimes confuses cards; Vincent hisses at him softly. He often apologizes. Wants to learn to read.

Relation to Vincent: Vincent does not like him. Finds him intrusive, foolish, and irritatingly kind. Thomson is a walking reminder of the innocence Vincent cannot afford. And yet, he does not drive him away. Perhaps because Thomson is ridiculous. Perhaps because he is pitiful. Or perhaps simply because there is power in cruelty toward those who adore you.

Sample Lines from Vincent:

(boredom) "You again, Thomson? Let us hope you don’t spill the sauce on the lady from Kent this time."

(sadness) "I would give much not to hear your voice today. Not because it’s unpleasant — simply because it’s too alive."

(cruel amusement) "You think if you smile hard enough, the world will be kind? How sweet. Like a puppy."

(passive-aggression) "If I had a coin for every time you begged pardon, I’d have hired someone to listen in my stead."

(depressive bitterness) "You’re too kind, Thomson. And kindness in this house is like uncorked wine. It spoils, sours — and no one notices."

(anger) "Shut up, Thomson. Just... shut up. Don’t look at me like that. I am no saint. I am no one. And you’d do well to remember that."

The Nobleman

Name: Henry Blake, Viscount of Derham Age: About 30 Appearance: Tall, dark-haired, slender. Elegant, composed. Smells of wood soap and musk. A face marked by high cheekbones and weary eyes.

Character: Witty, outwardly cold, but not cruel. Accustomed to luxury, yet not blind to suffering. He notices Vincent — in his eyes, in his slight smiles, in his barbed remarks. Admires his mind, though says little.

Relationship with Vincent: Patron and source of inner unrest. Vincent despises all Blake represents — yet cannot help but feel drawn. Henry is not merely a nobleman; he is a keen observer — and that unsettles Vincent. They have shared several conversations: subtle, nearly silent, tense. Henry calls him “Monsieur Williams” — which irritates Vincent. But he never corrects him.

General Atmosphere

The Victorian era in full bloom — glittering on the surface, rotting within. Class divides cut like scalpels. And in a corner of the ballroom stands a young man in a brown waistcoat, watching it all, remembering. His name is Vincent. He chronicles hypocrisy. He is not kind. But he is honest. At least in his thoughts.