|
Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2017 13:30:03 GMT -5
Yeah I can. It might be in a little while because I have homework and quite a few other rps as well ^^"
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 3, 2017 13:39:27 GMT -5
Even after Ada spoke, it took a moment for Ammiel to realize there was anyone else in the room. Eventually, registering the sound of another person's voice, he turned confusedly to look at the maid. He wasn't entirely sure of the girl's name. Abby, maybe? Something that started with an "A." It seemed as though they had a new one every week. One thing Ammiel did know—his parents treated both of them like dirt. Somehow that knowledge made Ada a friend. He made no attempt to hide the red mark on his olive skin. She knew very well what his parents were like. The young man turned his attention to the open door, wondering what the consequences for speaking with the maid would be. Stupid, probably. Cruel and unusual, definitely. And all over a block of wood with some strings attached—literally and figuratively. Still, Ammiel would do anything to spite the tyrants in charge of this household. Usually exactly the opposite of whatever they wanted from him. Speaking politely to the help, for one thing. He couldn't wrap his head around treating another human being like a dog, especially given their history. There were apalling double standards beyond the iron gates of that household. "It's fine. I don't mind. I'm not them!" Ammiel made certain to say it loudly enough that his parents could easily overhear, then turned his attention back to Ada. "I have to apologize to you, actually; you've worked here longer than most of the people we hire and I don't know your name." It was nice to speak with someone normal, someone who hadn't been corrupted by money. Someone who didn't look down upon everyone else. He was still visibly shaken, but having company helped. He just didn't know if Ada would be up to talking with the threat of punishment looming so darkly. As soon as the young man told Ada that she was fine to come in, the young maid entered and shut the door behind her. As he spoke to her she immediately moved to begin polishing the wooden surfaces in the room, knowing they had to be shiny and clean. The last thing she wanted was to get in trouble. But then Ammiel was talking to Ada more, which surprised her. Wasn't he worried about getting into trouble? But then Ada wasn't that worried. It was just a conversation, after all. There were worse things to get into trouble for than talking to Ammiel. She'd be fine. "Oh, no problem sir," Ada replied with a smile "My name is Ada Greene. I'll be honest, I don't blame you for not bothering to remember my name. You're right; staff come and go all the time in this house" It was true. And Ada knew why. As she spoke her hand went absently to her collarbone, where the newest bruise was. It wasn't just the master and mistress of the house, but from some of the staff as well. Senior staff weren't above pinches and slaps. She'd seen it in other houses, but not at this level. And she certainly hadn't seen someone in the family being abused like that. Ada stayed, and had seen quite a few staff members leave, despite her not having been there for very long. It had totally shocked her to see so many staff leaving. But when she realised what the master and mistress were like, she'd understood exactly why so many were leaving. But Ada had to stay. And, apparently, so did Ammiel. Neither of them had much of a choice. This meant that Ada felt a sort of affinity for the young man. They had something in common, and it felt good to have someone who truly understood what it was like here
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 3, 2017 13:51:45 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ Elizabeth nodded. "Sounds good," she said, then paused. "Don't worry about it - I'll eat whatever you prepare; I'm not expecting on of my father's feasts." Although, she was thinking quite fondly of the King's feasts - lavish, rich beef and the finest pork and fresh vegetable stew, with pipping-hot rolls made with six kinds of grain and the most beautiful berry tarts for dessert. Simply thinking of the delicacies she had enjoyed for years made her feel a little homesick, to be quite honest. She knew James would keep her here - and she didn't mind staying (she had no idea where she was, anyway) - but for how long? Would the engagement be called off because the Kingdom thought she was dead? Would she ever sit at that elegant, giant wooden table in her mother's dinning room again? Would she scold her brothers for constantly stealing treats from the world's largest kitchen? She wasn't so sure. As she watched James prepare the meal, she reflected more on what she knew to be true in order to calm raging fear. James was a criminal, but he was a kind one. Everything else was void with that truth in mind. James would keep her safe; he had to, if he wanted to get the ransom he so deeply desired. "Look," James began as he began to search for the pies he'd bought that afternoon "I want you to know that I'm sorry about doing this to you. But I promise I'll let you go home the moment I get the money I need to get out of here. I'll escort you to the edge of that forest myself. It's just that there's only so long I can go on in this country before I get myself hanged. And I can't do that to my siblings. You have brothers; imagine putting them through losing you. And I promise that when I leave this country I'm leaving my criminal life behind." By the time he had finished speaking the pies were warmed up and plated. He brought the plates over to the princess, offering one to her before sitting nearby. The last thing he wanted was for her to still hate him or something. He wanted to show her that he was taking the opportunity for a fresh start. Wanted to show her that he was better than he seemed. That he had some integrity and some humanity. He would hate for her to think that he would keep her here forever or that he would live up to his word if the ransom were paid.
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 3, 2017 14:05:23 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧"Thank you," Elizabeth said as she took the pie from his outstretched hand. "And, well, I understand wanting a fresh start. I get it. Your family is safe and it would mean you wouldn't have to rob and steal for a living. Don't beat yourself up about it," the royal explained simply before grabbing the knife and fork he had given her. As she cut into the pie, the aroma that hit her didn't seem so bad after all. She took a small bite at first and was surprised that the mince meat wasn't so bad after all. It was far from on-par with even the small meal she'd had in the carriage that morning around dawn, but it filled her empty stomach and left her content. She ate nimbly and quietly, as she had been trained to do, one bite after the other, until her portion was finished. She settled back into her chair with a yawn, her eyes drifting to the open window in the kitchen. The sun was almost entirely lost behind the trees and the moon and stars had already begun their reign in the night sky. The drawing night reminded her again of how tired she was and she began to wish for her clean, silken nightgown and downy-feather quilt and pillows of bedroom miles away from where she sat in the quiet cottage.
|
|
|
Post by Cobraheart on Apr 3, 2017 14:16:05 GMT -5
"Ada." Ammiel forced a smile, distractedly muttering the name a few more times before appearing to break out of his trance. "It's nice to officially meet you." He extended one hand to shake Ada's with a strong grip. It wasn't the vice's grip he had with his left hand, but he'd been conditioned not to use that one in greeting. The only thing suited specifically for Ammiel in a right-handed world was the left-handed viola, which had to be custom made. Funny how, if his parents had bought the right-handed one they originally intended, they would never have had such petty quarrels. "Please call me Ammiel. I'm sick of acting like I'm better than everyone else. And they're working harder than I am." He ran one hand through his wavy, raven-coloured hair, surrendering. "Just now they brought someone over from Cambridge. I didn't care for her and said so out loud. Obviously I was rude, but for heaven's sake, you'd think they would have gotten the point by now!" It all fell out of Ammiel as though he'd known Ada for years. She'd probably be gone in a couple weeks anyway, so what did it matter if the maid knew a couple secrets? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, I just—well, you know how it is." Behind closed doors with a normal human being. There was a first time for everything.
Usually after a fight, Ammiel would leave the house for a little while. Consider running away. But the truth of the matter was he had no idea how to survive on his own, and without money there wasn't much he could do in the world outside London. If Ammiel had his way, he'd go south. To Italy, maybe, or Israel. Home. He knew Hebrew. Most of his family still lived there. But for the time being he was trapped in luxury.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 3, 2017 14:17:29 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ "Thank you," Elizabeth said as she took the pie from his outstretched hand. "And, well, I understand wanting a fresh start. I get it. Your family is safe and it would mean you wouldn't have to rob and steal for a living. Don't beat yourself up about it," the royal explained simply before grabbing the knife and fork he had given her. As she cut into the pie, the aroma that hit her didn't seem so bad after all. She took a small bite at first and was surprised that the mince meat wasn't so bad after all. It was far from on-par with even the small meal she'd had in the carriage that morning around dawn, but it filled her empty stomach and left her content. She ate nimbly and quietly, as she had been trained to do, one bite after the other, until her portion was finished. She settled back into her chair with a yawn, her eyes drifting to the open window in the kitchen. The sun was almost entirely lost behind the trees and the moon and stars had already begun their reign in the night sky. The drawing night reminded her again of how tired she was and she began to wish for her clean, silken nightgown and downy-feather quilt and pillows of bedroom miles away from where she sat in the quiet cottage. (I was thinking, maybe James gets caught and arrested. He's going to be hanged but Elizabeth has to stand up for him or help him escape. We don't have to do any of that now, it can be much later on if you want, just thought I'd throw it out there) James looked to see that it was getting dark outside as he took both of the plates into the kitchen to clean later. He didn't need to sort that just yet "Well, it's getting late. I should probably show you to your room right about now, if you're ready" James offered. He turned to lock the door. Not to keep Elizabeth in, but to keep the creatures of the forest out. "I lock it because once I forgot and I got a wolf in the house," he explained "It wasn't a fun experience, I can tell you that much. I don't think I can even remember how I ever got it out. It was a total nightmare, to be honest. Thank God I was living alone at the time. My sisters would have been in complete hysterics, I tell you"
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 3, 2017 14:29:40 GMT -5
(I love the idea - let's let their relationship develop a little bit more first though) ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧"I can't imagine," Elizabeth agreed, rising to her feet. She smiled at the thought of James trying to soothe his crazy sisters while trying to keep them safe. It reminded her of the time when a rat found its way into her drawing room one morning and her servant, Melinda, threw a fit, screaming bloody murder as she tried to hunt down someone to get rid of it. "Though, you did seem to handle whatever that wolf threw at you earlier today pretty well," she said with a small smile. "But, yes, I'm definitely ready to rest. All the rooms are upstairs, right?" She paused, looking down at her tattered, dirty dress. "You wouldn't happen to have a shirt or something that I could borrow to sleep in, just for tonight? I can't imagine sleeping in this mess," the royal added quickly with an apologetic smile. She didn't mean to be high maintenance, but still - this was a whole new world she was facing, living like a poor thief when just yesterday she had lived lavishly in a palace.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 3, 2017 14:29:49 GMT -5
"Ada." Ammiel forced a smile, distractedly muttering the name a few more times before appearing to break out of his trance. "It's nice to officially meet you." He extended one hand to shake Ada's with a strong grip. It wasn't the vice's grip he had with his left hand, but he'd been conditioned not to use that one in greeting. The only thing suited specifically for Ammiel in a right-handed world was the left-handed viola, which had to be custom made. Funny how, if his parents had bought the right-handed one they originally intended, they would never have had such petty quarrels. "Please call me Ammiel. I'm sick of acting like I'm better than everyone else. And they're working harder than I am." He ran one hand through his wavy, raven-coloured hair, surrendering. "Just now they brought someone over from Cambridge. I didn't care for her and said so out loud. Obviously I was rude, but for heaven's sake, you'd think they would have gotten the point by now!" It all fell out of Ammiel as though he'd known Ada for years. She'd probably be gone in a couple weeks anyway, so what did it matter if the maid knew a couple secrets? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, I just—well, you know how it is." Behind closed doors with a normal human being. There was a first time for everything. Usually after a fight, Ammiel would leave the house for a little while. Consider running away. But the truth of the matter was he had no idea how to survive on his own, and without money there wasn't much he could do in the world outside London. If Ammiel had his way, he'd go south. To Italy, maybe, or Israel. Home. He knew Hebrew. Most of his family still lived there. But for the time being he was trapped in luxury. When Ammiel went to shake her hand, Ada offered her left hand, the strong grip telling that Ada was left-handed also. "It's a pleasure to officially meet you too, Ammiel." Ada replied "I'm sorry that your parents keep forcing people on you like that. My parents keep wanting me to get married too. They say because I'm a woman I can't support myself forever. But the way I see it, I'm earning a decent wage, so I'm doing fine. But I have to prove it to my parents. So, yes, I guess I do know how it is. It's nice to meet someone who understands." Now ahead as closer to Ammiel, the slap mark on his cheek looked particularly bad "Oh, si- Ammiel. That looks sore. What did you say to them this time? Just the usual?" Both of them knew how the arguments tended to go by now, so it didn't need much explaining. Thankfully, because explaining Ammiel's arguments with his parents would take an awfully long time. It had seemed particularly bad that day, however, so she wanted to know what was going on with him. It seemed to her that the both of them could do with somebody to talk to, and Ada didn't mind being that person for Ammiel. She would love it if her could be that person for her. It was almost exhilarating, talking with someone who understood. Talking with someone who cared. Someone who needed to talk with her as much as she needed to talk with him. Both of them seemed to be blurring things out. It was like some great release of pressure.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 3, 2017 14:37:54 GMT -5
(I love the idea - let's let their relationship develop a little bit more first though) "I can't imagine," Elizabeth agreed, rising to her feet. She smiled at the thought of James trying to soothe his crazy sisters while trying to keep them safe. It reminded her of the time when a rat found its way into her drawing room one morning and her servant, Melinda, threw a fit, screaming bloody murder as she tried to hunt down someone to get rid of it. "Though, you did seem to handle whatever that wolf threw at you earlier today pretty well," she said with a small smile. "But, yes, I'm definitely ready to rest. All the rooms are upstairs, right?" She paused, looking down at her tattered, dirty dress. "You wouldn't happen to have a shirt or something that I could borrow to sleep in, just for tonight? I can't imagine sleeping in this mess," the royal added quickly with an apologetic smile. She didn't mean to be high maintenance, but still - this was a whole new world she was facing, living like a poor thief when just yesterday she had lived lavishly in a palace. (Of course, that's what I thought too) "Oh, it was nothing," James had replied "You sort of get used to dealing with them. Anyway, let us go upstairs. I'm sure there's something I can lend you to sleep in. Follow me" He led the way upstairs and pointed out the doorway to Elizabeth's room before disappearing into his own, emerging a moment later with a long shirt. He offered it to her with a smile. "This should do for you to sleep in, hopefully" James said "Do let me know if you need anything else overnight. Don't be afraid to wake me up if you need to. I hope the room will be alright for you" All he wanted was too keep Elizabeth safe, and for this whole thing to go as smoothly as possible. There was nothing else he needed. Something made him feel protective of the woman, and he enjoyed her company a lot. She was such a kind person, despite their rather bumpy start. She was strong, too, having set out her terms immediately after her capture. He found her incredibly fascinating, and she made him feel happier than he had felt in a long time
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2017 14:53:14 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧
--
''Perhaps,'' Lucien replied, his word of agreement accompanied by a slight shrug. There were plenty of people within the city - he wouldn't be surprised if he had never come across this particular gentleman within the marketplace, despite the fact that they both had the same idea of coming early. Great minds obviously think alike, Lucien thought to himself, although didn't say this aloud. In fact, he didn't often say much out loud at all, but decided he needed to practice being more social, especially now that he was a soldier, and many people often wanted to engage in a conversation with him. He supposed that the reason he was often not prepared to talk, was because he had never been particularly accepted or favoured as a boy, and the sudden surge of popularity hadn't quite suited him well.
''The thing is, I can't help thinking that I've come across you before,'' the young man added, unable to remain silent about this particular aspect of his thoughts. He had been speaking the truth - the face of this person was vaguely familiar, although Lucien couldn't recall ever uttering a word to a man like him. He could have passed him on the streets once, but it was improbable. Lucien couldn't quite get his head round it, but the feeling of familiarity was certainly there.
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 3, 2017 14:56:41 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧"Thank you for everything, James," Elizabeth told him once the man had returned with the shirt. "Good night," she added simply, smiling at him as she shut the door to the bedroom with a yawn. The room was quaint and tiny, compared to her chamber back home. The straw mattress looked like it hadn't been used for a while, but the crisp sheet and hand-woven quilt atop it looked like they had just been washed. She slipped out of her torn gown with a sigh. As she slipped on the borrowed shirt, she was immediately wreathed with the scent of James - musky, earthy, and a slight note she couldn't quite place. Fresh flowers or something of the like, perhaps? She felt strangely safe as she began drawing the curtains shut and settling into bed, blowing out the candle on the bedside table. It had been a trying, thrilling day - but James was kind, and so strong. And patient, my goodness, to deal with all her requests and oddities. He didn't seem to mind it, though. More than anything, however, she was struck with his determination. He knew what he wanted, and sought after it. As she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, her last thought was of how interesting he was - and how much more she desired to know this man even more.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 3, 2017 15:04:24 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧
--
''Perhaps,'' Lucien replied, his word of agreement accompanied by a slight shrug. There were plenty of people within the city - he wouldn't be surprised if he had never come across this particular gentleman within the marketplace, despite the fact that they both had the same idea of coming early. Great minds obviously think alike, Lucien thought to himself, although didn't say this aloud. In fact, he didn't often say much out loud at all, but decided he needed to practice being more social, especially now that he was a soldier, and many people often wanted to engage in a conversation with him. He supposed that the reason he was often not prepared to talk, was because he had never been particularly accepted or favoured as a boy, and the sudden surge of popularity hadn't quite suited him well.
''The thing is, I can't help thinking that I've come across you before,'' the young man added, unable to remain silent about this particular aspect of his thoughts. He had been speaking the truth - the face of this person was vaguely familiar, although Lucien couldn't recall ever uttering a word to a man like him. He could have passed him on the streets once, but it was improbable. Lucien couldn't quite get his head round it, but the feeling of familiarity was certainly there. "You know what, I've had the exact same feeling, too. I feel like I have seen you before, but I honestly couldn't tell you where I've seen you before. It's strange" Antoine replied.
He was definitely sure he knew the other man by this point, but he still could not place him at all. He didn't feel like he'd seen him before, and if he were a soldier or a fellow revolutionary he felt that he would probably recognise him. But then again, perhaps not. He wasn't sure. But he didn't look like a soldier, or a revolutionary. So where had he met him, then?"
He was gradually collecting the things he wanted to buy as he spoke, a little distracted as his mind worked overtime trying to work out where he could possibly know this man, or where he might have met him. They seemed like very different people, so he didn't imagine they'd have many common interests. Where might they have possibly met? Perhaps he had simply just noticed him at the marketplace before? Possible, certainly not unlikely. In fact, that was probably it.
(Sorry it's short, I am on a tablet)
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 3, 2017 15:05:58 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ "Thank you for everything, James," Elizabeth told him once the man had returned with the shirt. "Good night," she added simply, smiling at him as she shut the door to the bedroom with a yawn. The room was quaint and tiny, compared to her chamber back home. The straw mattress looked like it hadn't been used for a while, but the crisp sheet and hand-woven quilt atop it looked like they had just been washed. She slipped out of her torn gown with a sigh. As she slipped on the borrowed shirt, she was immediately wreathed with the scent of James - musky, earthy, and a slight note she couldn't quite place. Fresh flowers or something of the like, perhaps? She felt strangely safe as she began drawing the curtains shut and settling into bed, blowing out the candle on the bedside table. It had been a trying, thrilling day - but James was kind, and so strong. And patient, my goodness, to deal with all her requests and oddities. He didn't seem to mind it, though. More than anything, however, she was struck with his determination. He knew what he wanted, and sought after it. As she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, her last thought was of how interesting he was - and how much more she desired to know this man even more. (Skip to next morning?)
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 3, 2017 15:08:06 GMT -5
|
|
|
Post by Cobraheart on Apr 3, 2017 15:19:52 GMT -5
"Oh, it's—" One hand crept to the mark on his cheek, and Ammiel shook his head. "It's nothing. Did I say the usual? Yes and no." He hated to admit it, but he was quite proud of that particular spat. "First I called her father a fraud—he was sitting opposite me—and then I called her mother a blood-sucking George worshipper. She was sitting beside me. Friends of the family." He cracked a slight smile. "Well, they were, anyway. I don't suspect they'll want to see us again. First he reached across the table to strangle me, and after they left my father struck me. If I'm subtle about my disinterest they'll only yell." Smirking at Ada, he asked, "Do you want to know the sad thing? I don't regret it. They're all the same. All the same." He would never tell his parents, but Ammiel was only interested in courting someone with perspective. Marrying for money never led to happiness. He could ask the very people trying to convince him only good would come of marrying an aristocrat. After years of watching them fight, there was no evidence to back their claims. After years of watching them fight, there was one thought running through Ammiel's head: "Don't end up like your parents."
He supposed he was a rebel, of sorts. Yes, what a rebel—playing the viola against his parents' wishes and turning down girls who'd be no good for him in the long run. What a deviant they'd been cursed with. Ammiel just had to figure out what it would take to run away, and then there was nothing stopping him. Too bad there wasn't a friend he could take. They could look out for each other.
(Maybe either Ammiel or Ada could do something that scores major points in the other's book? What do you think?)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 5:13:33 GMT -5
(agh sorry my massive poof, I'm still stuck between the three I mentioned earlier) [Okay, no problem. I put the names into a random generator and got Remember Me. I recall you wanted to switch charries for that, so your charrie will be a girl. I just need to know your charrie name and what pairings you want]
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 5:30:12 GMT -5
"Oh, it's—" One hand crept to the mark on his cheek, and Ammiel shook his head. "It's nothing. Did I say the usual? Yes and no." He hated to admit it, but he was quite proud of that particular spat. "First I called her father a fraud—he was sitting opposite me—and then I called her mother a blood-sucking George worshipper. She was sitting beside me. Friends of the family." He cracked a slight smile. "Well, they were, anyway. I don't suspect they'll want to see us again. First he reached across the table to strangle me, and after they left my father struck me. If I'm subtle about my disinterest they'll only yell." Smirking at Ada, he asked, "Do you want to know the sad thing? I don't regret it. They're all the same. All the same." He would never tell his parents, but Ammiel was only interested in courting someone with perspective. Marrying for money never led to happiness. He could ask the very people trying to convince him only good would come of marrying an aristocrat. After years of watching them fight, there was no evidence to back their claims. After years of watching them fight, there was one thought running through Ammiel's head: "Don't end up like your parents." He supposed he was a rebel, of sorts. Yes, what a rebel—playing the viola against his parents' wishes and turning down girls who'd be no good for him in the long run. What a deviant they'd been cursed with. Ammiel just had to figure out what it would take to run away, and then there was nothing stopping him. Too bad there wasn't a friend he could take. They could look out for each other. (Maybe either Ammiel or Ada could do something that scores major points in the other's book? What do you think?) [Ooh, okay! Maybe Ada stands up to the parents or something? Idk] "I don't blame you, if I'm honest," Ada replied as she continued to work, hoping to get the place spotless "None of the girls who come in here seem to have any spirit. Of course, it isn't my place to say, but…they strike me as a little too well behaved. I honestly don't know why you put up with your parents. I only stick around here because it's decently paid, though I now realise it pays so well because they can't keep a maid for longer than a week." She paused a moment as she heard distant yelling - probably the master and mistress arguing about what they were ever going to do about their son - followed by a smash that sounded like a plate or some other smashable piece of ceramic. Ada sighed, rolling her eyes. "Great, that will be there for me to clean up later," Ada muttered with a raised eyebrow "Along with the other mess that's bound to be up there. Last time this happened I was up until two in the morning cleaning up after them" And of course, after she'd stayed up so late - resulting in only three hours of sleep - Ada had been like a zombie the next day. So she had slipped up, made mistakes, missed spots while cleaning. She hadn't gained more bruises in one day before or since then. But looked like tomorrow was going to be the same, if the master and mistress of the house carried on in this fashion. She wished they'd get out of the house more.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 5:39:36 GMT -5
James woke a little earlier than usual the next morning, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair as he got up. He quickly changed into his normal clothes before heading downstairs to start some breakfast for him and Elizabeth. Elizabeth didn't know, but last night he had written and sent the ransom letter, after she went to sleep. It wasn't a big deal, they both knew it would happen, but he had wanted to get the letter sent as quickly as possible so Elizabeth could go home as soon as she could. He hunted around in the kitchen for some breakfast. Having found some suitable breakfast in eggs, he began to cook them. Breakfast was generally a small meal, as many people chose instead to simply eat two meals a day (lunch and supper). But both James and Elizabeth had been through a lot the previous day, so James figured a breakfast was more than appropriate for the two of them.
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 4, 2017 7:10:49 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the sound of James in the kitchen downstairs, hopefully preparing something for breakfast - she was still famished, after her endeavor yesterday with the thief. After pulling her hair into a braid, she slipped downstairs and was pleased to she the man was almost finished with the cooking. She wasn't sure as to how her life would look for the next few days; would she return home soon? Had he written the ransom letter yet? Would her father send out search parties and completely reject James' request? She wasn't sure. As much as it filled her with dread to think about it, she knew it had to happen. She was in no place to just run away from James' home; she had no idea how far she was from home, other than, well, far away from it. Setting aside her chaotic thoughts, she settled at the table and traced the grain of the wood with her fingertips. "Good morning," she told James simply, watching him as he prepared the eggs. The sinewy muscle in his arms and back was prominent as he readied the meal. How odd to her it seemed that such a man as this - one who pushed his body to the physical limit most days - would do something as simple as prepare meals. In her mind, someone like James would be better fit to ride horses as a member of the royal guard. But here he was, cooking breakfast. For her.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 12:37:12 GMT -5
"Good morning," James replied as he finished preparing the breakfast and brought the plates over to the table, sitting down "I hope you slept well last night."
James took interest in Elizabeth's wellbeing. He wasn't a hundred percent sure why he felt so protective of her, but he figured it was because he had to keep her safe. And he knew she would be here for at least a few days - it would likely be a day or two before he got any reply from her father. Might as well find out if she was doing okay here.
It had been a relatively quiet night, thankfully. Sometimes the creatures (and people) lurking in the woods made a lot of noise and the woods could get chaotic at night. But it appeared that the previous night had gone relatively smoothly.
He enjoyed having company, actually. He occasionally saw his siblings, but they didn't visit so often and James found himself spending a lot of time alone. He hadn't realised how much he enjoyed having company until Elizabeth came along.
|
|
|
Post by Cobraheart on Apr 4, 2017 12:43:52 GMT -5
"I know. Like all the life has been sucked out of them. Looks like other people have vampires for parents." Ammiel didn't even blink at the sound of glass breaking. Probably some stupid antique his parents had explained at least ten times but still held no significance to him. And now they'd spend the weekend complaining about it. Their own fault. Both of them were impulsive, clearly. "I'm not sure why I stay here. Probably because I'd be broke if I struck out on my own. It's sort of depressing to think my own mother and father are nothing more than a bank to me. Maybe if I did what they told me." The chances of that happening were slim. Tomorrow night he had to sneak out or his life—what little Ammiel had on the outside—would be over. The problem? It was Saturday. Ammiel's family would notice him gone. And they'd noticed him gone now. "Ammiel!" called the voice of his father, growing ever nearer from down the hallway. "Come speak to us at once!" There was, of course, no answer. He looked to the window and rushed desperately to pry it open, but in vain. Ammiel had just taken his hands off the lock, not wanting to look any guiltier than he already did, when the door to the study swung open. His father's gaze first went to Ada, and then to his son, whose dark eyes were wide, not with their usual defiance. "Have you been talking to the maid?" "No, I was reading, and Ada—" Ammiel winced when he realized he'd used her name, "Ada is just doing her job. Reading, it...it helps me calm down." Another lie. He'd hidden it well from his parents but Ammiel couldn't make heads or tails of a paragraph. All the letters seemed to swim on the page. Numbers were even worse. (Aw yes. Ammiel is the damsel in distress. ![:P](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/iVhKxJ4UsBP0VgImbuAI.gif) )
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 4, 2017 13:00:35 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ After thanking him for the meal, she began to speak to him. "I did, actually - as soon as I'd hit the pillow I was out," Elizabeth explained. After taking a bite or two of the steaming food, however, her tone began to change as she met James' gaze. "Have you sent out the ransom letter yet? I need to resume my duties as soon as possible," the fair-haired girl demanded. "My family will be far from happy about it, you know - it's an embarrassment! Makes it seem like I was avoiding meeting my suitor, you know. I'm sure there's all sorts of gossip about it already." Although, as soon as the words had left her mouth, Elizabeth had to admit that she was glad she didn't have to meet the prince she was to be married to. As charming as he might be, the maiden realized that she may never come to enjoy his company the same way she had come to enjoy James'. As odd as the thought was, she was glad she could just be with James. She could show up to eat a meal in nothing but an old, too-big shirt with her hair a mess and never had to address anyone as "Sir", much less remember to hold her silverware and eat with the proper etiquette all while trying to breath in some silly little corseted dress her mother would have demanded she wear. It was a nice change, albeit a surprising one. She liked James' company and this new lease on life, even if it was a change from what she'd imagined her life as a royal would look like.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 13:02:45 GMT -5
"He wasn't talking to me" Ada said, immediately regretting that she'd spoken but realising that there was no point in stopping now "But even if he was, you don't have the right to stop him, or punish either of us for it. He's allowed to speak to me, and I'm allowed to speak to him. There aren't any laws against it. And maybe if you let your son talk to more people, if you gave him a bit more freedom, he might not feel the need to talk to someone so beneath him as a maid. No wonder you cannot keep your staff. You treat them as badly as you treat your son. I'm sorry, but either you or your wife will be cleaning up whatever you broke up there, because I refuse to be up until all hours cleaning up after your stupid argu-"
Ada was silenced by a harsh slap to the face, so hard that the young woman staggered back, her face looking shocked.
"How dare you tell me how to raise my son. How dare you refuse to do your job. How dare you be so insolent and rude" Ammiel's father said in a low, dark voice "I have a mind to fire you, and make sure you never work again. Instead you won't be paid anything this month, and I expect you to be awake at three o'clock every morning instead of five o'clock. I'll make sure you pay dearly for your outburst, Miss Greene"
"Oh, how original. Overwork and underpay me. I can't imagine what that is like" Ada hissed
The father stormed out - though Ada was sure that wasn't the last of it - and left Ada standing with one hand on her cheek, chest heaving.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 13:14:00 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ After thanking him for the meal, she began to speak to him. "I did, actually - as soon as I'd hit the pillow I was out," Elizabeth explained. After taking a bite or two of the steaming food, however, her tone began to change as she met James' gaze. "Have you sent out the ransom letter yet? I need to resume my duties as soon as possible," the fair-haired girl demanded. "My family will be far from happy about it, you know - it's an embarrassment! Makes it seem like I was avoiding meeting my suitor, you know. I'm sure there's all sorts of gossip about it already." Although, as soon as the words had left her mouth, Elizabeth had to admit that she was glad she didn't have to meet the prince she was to be married to. As charming as he might be, the maiden realized that she may never come to enjoy his company the same way she had come to enjoy James'. As odd as the thought was, she was glad she could just be with James. She could show up to eat a meal in nothing but an old, too-big shirt with her hair a mess and never had to address anyone as "Sir", much less remember to hold her silverware and eat with the proper etiquette all while trying to breath in some silly little corseted dress her mother would have demanded she wear. It was a nice change, albeit a surprising one. She liked James' company and this new lease on life, even if it was a change from what she'd imagined her life as a royal would look like. James help up his hand to calm her demands, trying to reassure her that everything was taken care of, before replying with "Yes, I sent it last night. And don't worry about it, I'm fairly sure your parents won't be blaming you for getting kidnapped. That isn't how it works. And hey, if you pretend to be really traumatised they might just let you off arranged marriages for a while, you never know" He offered her a cheeky smile to go with the statement, trying to get her to smile. The happy tone had dropped straight from her voice and he had wanted to put it back there again. He loved when she was happy, she was so full of life. For a moment, when she was talking about the ransom, she'd reminded him of what she was like when he first captured her yesterday. Strong and assertive, sure, but angry. He didn't want her to be angry. She was the only person outside of his family he cared about. He cared about how she perceived him. "I mean, you didn't really want to meet that prince, did you?" James asked after a moment "Because if you didn't, when you go back you should tell your parents so. They're more likely to listen to a princess who has just been kidnapped. If I was the king, I'd give you anything you wanted, because I'd feel so guilty that you got kidnapped in the first place. Not that I know your parents, obviously, but I think I can take a fair guess"
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 4, 2017 13:27:18 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧Elizabeth face lit up with a smile at James' joke. She was surprised to hear the concern in his voice as he asked her about the engagement - it filled her with a special sort of warmth to know that he cared; she wanted to hold onto that feeling and keep it at the forefront of her mind. Elizabeth wondered if James had really meant what he said about giving her anything she wanted - because, sure, she really could have anything she wanted due to her royal predicament and all - but the thought that James would give her anything made her suddenly feel a lot more open to get to know the kind man. It filled her with a kind of love she hadn't felt in a long while - a love that far outstretched the joy she held for her pesky brothers. "You know," she began, still smiling, "you may have a point there - about my parents and all. To be completely honest, I don't know a thing about the prince - and I don't really care. Our marriage is supposed to provide peace - that's all it is, really, a political statement of sorts. But I guess you can always learn to love someone, right? Even in unexpected situations like arranged marriages?"
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 13:34:48 GMT -5
At her question, James just shook his head "I'm sorry, but no," James said bluntly but apologetically "You can learn to care for someone, I guess, but you can't force love. It's like expecting a plant to grow when you haven't planted a seed. You can't force a plant to grow, but you can't stop it growing once it's started either. You can't make love out of nothing, and you can't stop love from growing, either. That's what I learned about love. I'm sorry if this sounds really awful, I just really don't think you should marry this man based on some hope you have that, by some miracle, you might start loving him. Especially if you have never met the prince. You can't expect this to work."
The way James saw it, love didn't always work out, especially when it was forced like in an arranged marriage. He'd been raised by a single mother, his father had left. So call him a cynic, but he didn't think love was something that could be controlled. It hadn't worked out for his parents. And there wasn't any way around that. So he didn't see why an arranged marriage would work out for the princess, especially if she hadn't met the prince before.
|
|
|
Post by thornshade on Apr 4, 2017 13:45:34 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧Puzzled at James' explanation, Elizabeth took a minute to reflect on his words. She could see him struggle with the idea of love as he had spoken to her; the idea that it was uncontrollable. She knew James now, and in the way he lived you could see he desired to have control over almost every aspect - what he ate, when he went into town to by supplies, when he decided he'd rob the next carriage on the King's highway she'd been snatched from less than 24 hours ago. She envied him, she realized, for she had never had that sort of control over her life. She ate what was prepared for her (the staff never asked for a second opinion), wore what her mother asked her to when she was asked to, and now was engaged because her father needed her to be. It's draining, she thought, to never be free. But here? This life, this adventure - if that's what I'm to call it - with James? She could take up her own space, be her own person. It was invigorating. But when she looked back at James, with the dull expression on his tanned face, she remembered that you had to earn freedom the same way you had to earn someone's love. "James," she began tentatively, "have you ever been in love?"
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Apr 4, 2017 13:57:39 GMT -5
James was a little startled by the question, but shook his head "No, I don't think so. Not romantic love at least. I mean, I love my family, obviously, I'd go to the ends of the earth for them. But, no, I've never been in love. I think my life has been too fast-paced and hectic for that, to be entirely honest with you. What about you?"
He didn't know. He'd never been in romantic love before, but he didn't know what was going on with him and Elizabeth at that moment. He'd never been in love, didn't know what it felt like. At that moment, he was a hundred kinds of confused. But he hoped that Elizabeth's answer might give him a little bit more clarity as to what love was like, and if he was in love.
He didn't even him have an example of love from his parents. James was six when his father left and fourteen when his mother died. They couldn't set him an example on what love was like or what it should be like, so he had simply formed his own idea on love as he grew up. That was all he could do, all he had to go on.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2017 14:07:38 GMT -5
ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧
[[ ah don't worry. i am a constant mobile-user so idk if my replies are long or short or whatever to you. ]]
--
Lucien was puzzled by this fact. Why was it that they both felt they had come across one another before? Maybe that had locked eyes whilst taking a stroll down the street, or perhaps this man was a fellow soldier that he'd spoken a few polite words to in the past. The latter was unlikely, however. Somehow this gentleman didn't strike Lucien as a soldier.
''Well, it's strange, indeed,'' Lucien replied, chuckling slightly, ''but we have probably just seen each other here in the marketplace, to be honest.''
Lucien shrugged again - something he did often. Honestly, he needed to break out of the habit, but it was just something he had grown accustomed to throughout the years. It was odd of a soldier to do such a thing - being so used to standing with his back erect and hands by his side, it wasn't usual to see a military man obtain such a casual habit.
''So, what are you looking to purchase?'' the twenty-three year old continued, as his eyes scanned the marketplace. More and more stalls were beginning to open as the early morning sun streamed down. It was obviously getting later, no longer the break of dawn it had been when Lucien had arrived. Such a question was dodgy to ask, Lucien realized, after a few moments. The person whom he was talking to may think he was a spy, trying to get information out of him. Lucien didn't know if he would be entirely comfortable with replying to such a question himself, even though today he was only looking to acquire simple, innocent necessities such as food and clothing for his mother, father and eleven year old sister who lived in a household a little way from here. Lucien hoped that this man wouldn't think he was trying to pry, as he was not doing anything of the sort. Of course, if Lucien thought he was a revolutionary, he might try to gather up some valuable information from this man, but somehow he didn't seem like quite the type to be a revolutionary.
|
|