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Post by Friday on Oct 15, 2009 1:21:40 GMT -5
((Bracken Campbell . LOVE IT!!))
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Post by Monday on Oct 15, 2009 7:26:37 GMT -5
((lol. thanks. i kind of stole it... he he))
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Post by Monday on Nov 10, 2009 0:32:08 GMT -5
Bracken knew in his heart of hearts that he could never do the boy any actual harm, though it seemed Sebastian was more than willing to test the limits of his self-control. Ms. White followed in his wake as he paced down the hall. “I don’t mean to nag, sir,” Martha began after a moment’s silence, “but have you had a chance to look at the list of governesses I left on your desk?” Bracken let out a nearly imperceptible sigh. “I’ve had a lot on my plate this last month,” he hedged. “But I will get to it.” Though the good lady remained silent he could feel her disapproval hanging in the air. He was bemused by the realization that Ms. White’s opinion of him still meant as much to him now as it did when he was a boy. The truth of it was that, while he had indeed been quite busy of late, what with all the legal matters surrounding Sebastian, the added work load that came with building upon his business, and a reputation to cultivate (the last being the most unfortunate of his duties), Bracken had specifically been avoiding looking at the list Ms. White had provided for him over a week ago. Once it had been made clear that the boy had quite a volatile nature, and that there was no way Martha could keep up with him, no matter how much she cared for him, she had taken the initiative to find several applicants for a governess position. And it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to hire any of the women Martha had suggested. Or that none of them were well qualified enough to take on the job. To put it simply, Bracken loathed the idea of a stranger taking charge of his own flesh and blood. He wanted to take on the job himself, would be glad to have it, but this simply wasn’t feasible with wear Bracken was at in his life right now. Under normal circumstances he would have found a wife, a partner, someone he could trust with their children before he had any. But life could be quite cruel at times and he was left with a child that was not his own and became a widower without ever taking a wife. His fist clenched in frustration and his chest tightened with the thought of just what he had lost. A most beloved sister, his Caroline, the lass that protected him and loved him when their mother was no longer capable of it herself. What he wouldn’t give to bring her back. The only way Bracken could think to pay her back for all those years of nurturing him was to look after her only son, barely even eight years old and orphaned. If only he knew how to heal the heart break in Sebastian that he couldn’t even heal in himself…
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Post by Monday on Nov 10, 2009 0:45:14 GMT -5
((for the love of god, somebody tell me something that they don't like about my last post or something they think i should change. lol))
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Post by Friday on Nov 10, 2009 1:04:59 GMT -5
((lol. I think it's fine Meghan. Maybe include how old the kid is? that would help. I like. you shoudl keep going. ))
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Post by Thursday on Nov 10, 2009 1:16:58 GMT -5
((who are these people? Is it the couple Nicky saw?))
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Post by Monday on Nov 23, 2009 1:18:23 GMT -5
He came upon the boy then, noting that Stevens the butler just sat glowering in Sebastian’s direction from the corner. The child himself looked non-to-pleased, with his harms crossed huffily over his chest and an expression on his face so close to one Caroline would wear when she was displeased, that Bracken was torn between wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. Bracken could clearly see the muddy foot prints ranging far and wide about the entry way and the remains still caked on the suspect in question’s shoes. “Well,” said Bracken with a sigh, “would you care to explain yourself, Sebastian? You knew that Mr. Stevens had just mopped the floor this morning.”Sebastian continued to stare at the ground just in front of his feet, with no visible intention of replying. “I see. Well then, I suppose you will just have to apologize to Mr. Stevens and clean up the mess you made. If it happens again, you can be sure to mop the entire house instead of just the entrance.” His eyes flashed up to meet Bracken’s at that, with a fiery glint in them that was surprising for him to see in someone so young. “You aren’t my father; you can’t boss me around.” Bracken forced a smile across his face. “I’m afraid you’re only half right, Sebastian. Now do as I say or I’ll take a belt to your arse.” He could still remember the sting of the leather across the soft muscle of his backside he had received when he had brought a street dog home and let him loose in the kitchen. He must have been just about Sebastian’s age, but he could still remember look of mingled furry and amusement on his mother’s face. The occasion was the first, but certainly not the last for him to do something stupid enough to get his gentle mother angry. This time Bracken smiled in genuine. Though Sebastian’s words were surely meant to sound brave, they came out with a bit of a tremble. “I’m not afraid of you.” “Oh, aye? Well then, how does going to bed without supper sound to you, lad?” True to his heritage, the boy was more terrified of losing his dinner then almost anything else. He grudgingly got up and walked over to Stevens, and after a few stiff sentences, the man was patting Sebastian on the shoulder and offering up his forgiveness. That was one minor crisis avoided, he thought, but Bracken could foresee much greater conflicts arising if he didn’t do something to stem the flow of hostility emanating from the troubled boy. He needed a governess that was stern enough to not let Sebastian walk all over them, but nice enough to not berate and abuse the child. However, the mere thought of all those applications awaiting him on his desk gave him a headache. How on earth was he to gain a grasp on each individual from a small sheet of paper? An idea struck him, and he quickly turned to Martha who was just leaving with Sebastian to show him wear a mop and bucket could be found. “Mrs. White, could I have a word one moment?” She motioned for Sebastian to stay where he was and walked swiftly to Bracken’s side. “What is it that you need, sir?” she asked, looking a bit flustered. She didn’t like being interrupted in the middle of a task. “I’ve come to a decision concerning the issue with the governesses.” Her eyes seemed to brighten up at that, and Bracken continued. “If you would please send a letter to all interested applicants that there will be an interview for the job in exactly two weeks time. Their travel expenses will be paid for by us, but they must find their own lodgings for at least a night.” “Are you serious, sir?” she asked, looking taken aback. When Bracken nodded in reply she merely sighed and said, “I guess I expected you to decide something like this. Never could make up your mind the normal way. And who do you except to be doing the interviewing, then?” “Why, you and I, of course.” “Of course,” she added sarcastically. She turned around already moving on to the task at hand. “Come along, Sebastian, before I say something undignified to your uncle.” (( i think that'll be the end of the first chapter... maybe. idk, lol))
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Post by Friday on Nov 23, 2009 13:57:56 GMT -5
((It's a good place to end it if you do it in there)
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Post by Monday on Dec 11, 2009 19:04:35 GMT -5
Chapter 2
Nicky looked out the bedroom window of the inn she was to stay at for the next couple of days in utter amazement. As she tried desperately to take in the chaos that was the sprawling streets of London below her, she realized for the first time that maybe she had been a bit sheltered as a child. Never before in her life had she visited a city this large before and the picture was something to behold, if it was not a tad bit overwhelming. The streets themselves were cobbled and filthy, though this was hard to make out with the number of people and carriages strewn about the place in a bedlam. The ladies of fortune looked down from their lofty seats aboard their carriages and curricles, some with noses stuck up at the passing commoners on foot. Women wearing sturdy looking bodices with strong, pragmatically stitched seems weaved in and out of stores and shops, getting about the business of the day. Many had small children in tow, somehow managing to carry all of their goods in one hand and clasping the child’s tiny palm in the other. Likewise, the class of the men was easily distinguishable. The few gentlemen that passed by on foot and not in a carriage, wore perfectly tailored coats, had their collar points at a stifling height, and wore rather expensive (yet ridiculous looking) hats. Nicky had no idea that London housed quite so many dandies! The working class men, however, wore very sensible breeches, second-hand coats, and very rarely a hat at all. But it was not the various hues of fashion and class that had Nicky trying to catch her breath. She was safe in her room away from the hustle and bustle bellow her, but she couldn’t hide the terror in her heart that she had at living in such a city. Or was it the dramatic changes that her life had undergone in such a short amount of time that was frightening her? It wasn’t simply the fact that London was so entirely a different world then the only one she had ever experienced; this she could handle with ease on any ordinary day.
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Post by Monday on Dec 29, 2009 2:45:26 GMT -5
However, the fact that she had only enough money to pay for her room and board for the next few days and a little left over to pay for a cab to and from the home she was to be interviewed at was making her a little light headed. And there was the idea that she could very well not get the position she was applying for and really hadn’t formed any sort of backup plan as of yet. Not to mention the awkward almost painful experience of telling her parents just what she intended. “There’s nothing to be nervous about what-so-ever.” Nicky had been trying, and not very successfully, the last few days to convince herself that this was true. She had not the slightest clue as to how her parents would react upon hearing that she wanted to give up marriage and children to take on someone else’s responsibilities. But her expectations were not high. And being surprised by her father when her mind was a million miles away did not make her situation any better. “What is there to be nervous about dear?” The man in question spoke almost absently as he rummaged through a nearby drawer in their parlor. Though their house was a tad bit on the small side, every room was elegantly furnished and maintained with furniture and relics dating back from generations ago on both sides. Nicky could name the story behind each of the familiar objects as if they were old friends. Often times just seeing them and being surrounded by them provided some odd sort of comfort to her, but they were not enough to quell the range of emotions ravaging her this day. She traced the pattern on the chair in front of her as if there really was nothing to be nervous about. Mid 1700’s, French, a wedding gift to her great grandmother on her father’s side, Nicky recited to herself as her finger tip circled the floral pattern. Miraculously, she could feel herself start to relax. She couldn’t, didn’t want too, shake the comfort of being surrounded by something so familiar and cherished. And here she was, ready to try and convince her father to let her move to some other home, an unfamiliar place and family, away from everything she had ever known. She would say she had lost her mind if the idea didn’t make her almost giddy with excitement.
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Post by Monday on Jan 24, 2010 2:05:53 GMT -5
“Father,” she began, her nervousness returning to her full force in an instant. “Do you remember the other day when you noticed my recent melancholy and wished for me to find an end to it?” His eyes flashed up to hers in curiously. “Of course Nicole, why do you ask?” “Well I think I’ve found a new sort of… hobby that will undoubtedly improve my mood,” she said as her gaze returned to her fingers circling the tiny flower pedals on the arm rest. She glanced up at him briefly and didn’t know if she was more surprised or annoyed to see an amused look on his face. “And by hobby I presume that you mean you’ve found a nice young man to talk too.” It wasn’t really a question and Nicky had to frown to keep from smiling. Her father had always just assumed that she’d run into Mr. Right one of these days. But he wasn’t out there and Nicky had no more interest in continuing a search. “Um, well, not exactly, father.” She kept eye contact now, to better judge his reaction, “You see, I want to get a position as a governess. In London.” Now it was her father’s turn to look shocked. “A governess? Why, whatever for? We are not so destitute as to have you work as a servant in someone else’s house to earn meager wages!” “It is not about the money, father. Now, I know this may come as a bit of a shock to you, but I have no desire to get married. However, it is my love of children that lead me to make this decision, and I hope you can understand I’m doing this. It is meant as no disrespect to you or mother.” She spoke as calmly as she could and did a passable job of seeming as relaxed as possible. In all honesty, once she was in the midst of a challenge she could quite easily remain level-headed and efficient. It was the waiting before the conflict that always had her stomach in knots. Her father seemed to calm down a bit, but he still looked more than a little confused. “I’m trying to understand, dear, but this seems to be all a bit out of the blue. How long have you thought about this?” “Long enough, father,” she said jutting her chin up a bit with confidence. Nicky could tell that she was starting to sway him. “You know I am not one to make up my mind about something without giving it just thought first. I know what I want, and for some reason this feels very right to me. I just know I’ll find happiness in this way.” After gazing at his youngest and albeit favorite daughter for a few seconds he let out a sigh and relented. “Well I suppose I have to let you go, when you put it that way, you little sneak.” Nicky knew he was only joking, though, as he smiled at her and opened his arms wide to receive a hug. “But you still have to explain all this to your mother, Nicole.” Nicky just smiled as she made her way across the room, “I already did. She’s known my mind for a week now." “Of course she has. Just one more question, dear? Why London?”
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Post by Friday on Jan 24, 2010 11:02:13 GMT -5
((Um you want criticism? Well I can't criticism for it. So I'm just going to psot this so you know that someone is reading it.))
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Post by Monday on Jan 24, 2010 12:12:27 GMT -5
((lol. thank you))
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Post by Thursday on Jan 24, 2010 19:19:52 GMT -5
((comment))
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Post by Monday on Jan 24, 2010 23:13:42 GMT -5
((wow. you wrote 'comment' as a comment? lol))
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