teleidoplex (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
teleidoplex) wrote2006-12-01 03:09 pm
teleidoplex) wrote2006-12-01 03:09 pm
Entry tags:
Bess
Title: Bess
Rating: PG
Game: Wraith - The Oblivion
Summary: Character background fic for a live-action wraith game, based on Alfred Noyes' poem, "The Highwayman"
Disclaimer: White Wolf owns Wraith, I think Noyes is public domain, but anyways, the ideas are his.
Dearest Cousin Eugenie,
I vow, I wish Father had never taken into his brainbox to come to America, paltry inheritance or no. It is a heathen land, with all the amenities of an Irish village. Can you conceive, I am even forced to wear woolens here most days, for Father says that my silks and muslins are no longer suited to our lowered situation. Even worse, if you would believe, Father has decided to change the small manor house he inherited into an inn...A Public Inn!! I will never wash the stink of trade from my skin now. I will understand if you wish to cut this connection entirely, for I am now no better than the merest cit! Were I to meet myself in London, I would give myself the cut direct. I do not know quite how that should be managed, but I would. Oh, and now Father calls, wishing me to help refurbish our salon to be used as a private parlour by these common colonials. Will my suffering never end?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And now I am back. I met the most obnoxious boy today. He is a colonial and therefore common as can be. His name is Jack and he is the local magistrate’s son, which causes him to take all sorts of airs upon himself. He is as top-lofty as a lord and as low as a mongrel dog. Why, he actually had the temerity to call me by my given name. No, worse! He called me by a diminutive form of it. I, of course, told him that not only had I not given him permission to address me so familiarly, but that I did not care to be called by an appellation normally reserved for cattle. When I conveyed his lack of respect to Father, he just thought it was the height of hilarity and has actually joined Jack in calling me...I shudder even to write it...Bess!!! I shall sink into a decline, I think, and never show my face outside again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I owe you a great apology, cousin, for I have been remiss in posting this letter, instead tacking on observations as the weeks go by. There always seems to be so much happening and so many demands upon my time that I never seem to be able to finish it. Add to that the fact that months will pass before you even read it and you understand my logic that I cannot, in all conscience, send you a simple epistle, but must compose a stirring epic of my adventures in this wilderness.
But I do prattle on, and certainly bore you, so on to said epic. Father has opened the inn for business. We served our first customers last week and already have taken in a lodger, a Mrs. Farrow. She is a widowed woman and I quite dote on her already, for though she is ever dressed in black, she has a merry disposition and a thorough knowledge in the ways of fashion. The rumor in town is that she is a woman of some fortune, but prefers to save it for her dowry, should she decide to marry again. Father is very impressed by her far-sightedness. Still, this is the only bright spot in otherwise dreary days. Well, this and the fact that yestereve I managed to dump the contents of Mrs. Farrow’s chamberpot (yes, it is my duty to empty the chamberpots, horror of horrors!) onto the obnoxious head of that obnoxious boy, Jack. You may cringe at my hoydenish behavior, but it was fully warranted, I assure you. He was standing under my window with no other purpose than to taunt me for, as he put it, my “topple of my grand high horse”. Oh, Eugenie, as irritating as he is, he is right. I am now nothing more than an inkeep’s daughter...Worse!... I am Bess the inkeep’s daughter. I wish I were dead!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eugenie, you are an Angel! A Jewel! A Diamond of the First Water! You are the paragon of every virtue ever ascribed to woman! We received the shipment of drygoods just this day and the bolts of cloth are all that is wonderful! I shall never again complain of woolens if they come in such beautiful shades and tones and textures! And though you could not have known it (or perhaps you could have!) You hit the date of my birth right on the mark! I am now (a very mature, so my Father tells me) fourteen and in reward he has allowed me to have my pick of any fabric in the lot. Though I admit I was tempted by the blue sarcenet, I know that Father could have put it to better use, so I (as a very mature person should) took only the spool of red satin ribbon. At first I was a trifle mopish, but as I ruminated, I realized that I was happier with the ribbon...Truly! With the sarcenet, I would have but one or mayhap two new dresses, but with the ribbon, I can adorn every outfit I own! It will be like having a whole new wardrobe. Father says the new ribbon looks very striking in my hair. Thank you so very much. I shall treasure it always!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eugenie, you will not credit this, but Jack was actually nice to me this day...better, he was a hero! Until now, he has been a constant thorn in my side, forever following me about and teasing me for putting on airs when, as I’ve told you, ‘tis he who thinks himself all that is wonderful. Well, I forgive him all now, for today, as I was walking back from church, I was set upon by some landowner’s sons who are nothing more than ruffians. They jeered and called me names, much worse than Jack was ever wont to do, then one grabbed my braid and yanked so very hard that it brought tears to my eyes. I pulled my braid away, but the ribbon came loose in his hand. It seems silly now, but instead of running, I remained, trying to get the ribbon back from the boys, who made a game of keeping it from me. I knew that I had a whole spool at home, but their bullying was so unjust that I fear my reaction was rather foolish. I hurtled into him, but he just shoved me to the ground and put his foot upon my person to keep me down. I do not know what I might have done, but just then, Jack rushed up like the proverbial bat and landed that big bully the most beautiful facer ever seen! He was felled like Goliath! Of course, all the other bullies soon surrounded us, but we fought back to back until we were able to make our escape. I know it was not ladylike, but it was exhilarating. And anywise, these are the wild Americas and anyone, even a lady, must be strong enough to fight. After we had eluded our pursuers, Jack took the ribbon that he had wrested from the bully and braided it into my hair, saying that it would be much harder to tug out that way. It was gruffly done, but sweet nonetheless. Tomorrow we are to go to the pond to fish and catch dragonflies. I am so happy to have a friend at last, even if it is only Jack.
##############################
Dear Cousin Eugenie,
Can it be that three years have passed already? It seems time flew! I am now a very mature seventeen, or at least that is what Father continues to tell me. I do not feel very mature, for I still sometimes resent our change in circumstances and the lowness of my lot now compared to what it once was. Still, I perform my duties with a cheerful mien, and even enjoy most of them. Chamberpots, though, I shall never take to.
Speaking of chamberpots, Jack is well. We are still friends, after a fashion, though we sometimes brangle in the most shocking way. He is just turned twenty and has taken up many duties for his father, so has no time for our old childhood games, but I suppose that is just as well, for I find I too have outgrown many of them. He is quite the American rebel, forever going to secret meetings to argue for the cause of freedom. I worry about him sometimes, for King George’s men have begun to take an interest in this “rabble-rousing”, but he is to wily to be caught.
I have made other friends as well. Cecily Portman is the daughter of the blacksmith and an accomplished flirt already. She is forever falling madly in love with whichever village boy speaks with her and is madly jealous when he shows interest in any other girl. I makes for a fiery friendship. Kirsten Johannssen is my other bosom bow, and much more steadfast than Cecily. Her father has a farm near the village. She is dutch and doesn’t speak english very well, though she speaks fluent french. Somehow, we manage anyways. I do not know if you remember Mrs. Farrow, though I’m certain Father has written to you of their attachment. T’was quiet a shock for me, I must tell you, though no one could be as pleased as myself. Father, as you must know, had never thought to take another wife, but when Mrs. Farrow set her cap for him, the poor man had not a chance. I vow, if I ever decide to court a gentleman, I will borrow a page from her book. Cecily should study with her on how to win and hold a husband!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is the most infuriating boy imaginable! He use to be game for any gig we could devise, like the time we stole into Proctor Harris’ barn and swung on the rope from the loft into the hay in the rick (please do not mention these contretempts to Father, for it would worry him most grievously). Now, however, Jack has turned into a veritable stick-in-the-mire! Cecily and I had borrowed some practice sabers that were a commission of her fathers, and were playing at being Amazons, when he galloped up on that huge, obnoxious horse of his, quite terrifying us both, and tore the sabers from our very hands! And then, he had the audacity to smack me across my backside with one! Then he read me such a sermon on placing myself in danger that it seemed a shame he’d never entered holy orders! Not only that, but he did not yell at Cecily at all, no, he was all worried consideration to her. And she! She lapped it up like a very contented cat with a bowl of fresh cream. Cow!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, Jack has mollified my anger somewhat. He has promised me that since I am fool (his word, not mine) enough to play with sabers, he will take it upon himself to teach me how not to cut myself. He was very condescending, but I will stomach it with equanimity. Who knows, perhaps I will be able to convince him to teach me to load and fire a musket as well!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My lessons proceed apace. In actuality, Jack says I am quite a hand at both saber and musket (yes, I finally convinced him to instruct me in that as well). Father does not think it is proper for me to be forever in Jack’s company, for he fears that I am become too hoydenish and he worries for my reputation, but this is not London and I think, especially now that he is to wed Mrs. Farrow, that Father refines too much on London Society’s rules. They simply do not apply here (as you observed in your last letter). Besides which, I will not allow him to curtail the one bright spot in my rather monotonous days. Cecily no longer speaks to me. She is very jealous that Jack and I are so close, which I do not understand at all, for he and I are merely friends. Ah, well, she was ever a volatile one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh Eugenie, I am in love!!!! Shockingly, exhileratingly, maddeningly, frighteningly, deliciously in love!! I am assured you will know immediately with whom. Indeed, from reading your letters, I am quite certain you’ve known for years what I have only just discovered!! As you know, Jack has been instructing me in the use of the musket. We were out practicing today, and I must admit I was rather distracted when loading it, for I had just had the most terrible row with Cecily (over Jack’s and my growing attachment, which I hotly denied at the time. I feel almost guilty about it now, save that Jack has never had an interest in Cecily). Anywise, When I fired the musket, it misfired and practically blew up right in my face. I must admit, I was stunned and the powder burned my eyes and caused them to tear, but Jack became like a madman! He swooped me up, raced me to the crik and began bathing my face with the water, then he began kissing me all over my face, saying “Thank god, thank god you’re alright”, then, of course, he started shaking me and yelling at me for my carelessness and that I should take better care of the woman he loved! It was quite the most callous, clumsy, romantic declaration ever imagined. Jack says we must wait to make a formal announcement, for what with the political unrest and his father’s business and my father’s impending nuptials (and my age, though I assured him that I was very mature for my years), he feels that it be better that we have a long betrothal. Oh, but Eugenie, then he kissed me so well and so thoroughly that I shall wait for him forever if that is what it takes. It is funny, He still has the power to infuriate me, but it is more than worth it when we make up!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wish Cecily Portman were dead. She is the most vicious, cruel girl ever to walk this earth. I do not know why she has involved herself in my affairs, for she has a beau of her own, now (though Tom, the ostler, is hardly a catch in anyone’s eyes), but nevertheless, that is what she has done. She spitefully and with full knowledge of what she was doing mentioned in my father’s presence not only that Jack and I were still meeting despite his command to me to curtail that activity, but she falsely accused Jack of taking advantage of my innocence and ruining me!!! Untrue and unkind, but Father will not heed my denials. Instead he has confined me to the inn and refuses to allow me to see Jack at all. Oh Eugenie, what shall I do?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time you read this, Eugenie, I shall be a married woman. Jack managed to convey a message to me to wait up for him, so that we might speak. He told me that he has one more commission that he must undertake for the colonial rebels tonight, but after it is completed, his allies have agreed to help us elope. It is very frightening, but very exciting. Oh, Eugenie, I hope all goes well!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am worried, Eugenie. Jack promised me that he would come this day, for he did not wish for us to travel by night unless absolutely necessary, but it is nearly sunset and still he is not here. He did say that if it were too dangerous, he would come to me at moonrise, but as every minute passes, I grow more and more anxious. Something has gone wrong, Eugenie, I know it. Or are these just the ramblings of a silly woman in love? And I do love him, Eugenie, so very much. I live for him...and I would die for him.
Rating: PG
Game: Wraith - The Oblivion
Summary: Character background fic for a live-action wraith game, based on Alfred Noyes' poem, "The Highwayman"
Disclaimer: White Wolf owns Wraith, I think Noyes is public domain, but anyways, the ideas are his.
Dearest Cousin Eugenie,
I vow, I wish Father had never taken into his brainbox to come to America, paltry inheritance or no. It is a heathen land, with all the amenities of an Irish village. Can you conceive, I am even forced to wear woolens here most days, for Father says that my silks and muslins are no longer suited to our lowered situation. Even worse, if you would believe, Father has decided to change the small manor house he inherited into an inn...A Public Inn!! I will never wash the stink of trade from my skin now. I will understand if you wish to cut this connection entirely, for I am now no better than the merest cit! Were I to meet myself in London, I would give myself the cut direct. I do not know quite how that should be managed, but I would. Oh, and now Father calls, wishing me to help refurbish our salon to be used as a private parlour by these common colonials. Will my suffering never end?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And now I am back. I met the most obnoxious boy today. He is a colonial and therefore common as can be. His name is Jack and he is the local magistrate’s son, which causes him to take all sorts of airs upon himself. He is as top-lofty as a lord and as low as a mongrel dog. Why, he actually had the temerity to call me by my given name. No, worse! He called me by a diminutive form of it. I, of course, told him that not only had I not given him permission to address me so familiarly, but that I did not care to be called by an appellation normally reserved for cattle. When I conveyed his lack of respect to Father, he just thought it was the height of hilarity and has actually joined Jack in calling me...I shudder even to write it...Bess!!! I shall sink into a decline, I think, and never show my face outside again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I owe you a great apology, cousin, for I have been remiss in posting this letter, instead tacking on observations as the weeks go by. There always seems to be so much happening and so many demands upon my time that I never seem to be able to finish it. Add to that the fact that months will pass before you even read it and you understand my logic that I cannot, in all conscience, send you a simple epistle, but must compose a stirring epic of my adventures in this wilderness.
But I do prattle on, and certainly bore you, so on to said epic. Father has opened the inn for business. We served our first customers last week and already have taken in a lodger, a Mrs. Farrow. She is a widowed woman and I quite dote on her already, for though she is ever dressed in black, she has a merry disposition and a thorough knowledge in the ways of fashion. The rumor in town is that she is a woman of some fortune, but prefers to save it for her dowry, should she decide to marry again. Father is very impressed by her far-sightedness. Still, this is the only bright spot in otherwise dreary days. Well, this and the fact that yestereve I managed to dump the contents of Mrs. Farrow’s chamberpot (yes, it is my duty to empty the chamberpots, horror of horrors!) onto the obnoxious head of that obnoxious boy, Jack. You may cringe at my hoydenish behavior, but it was fully warranted, I assure you. He was standing under my window with no other purpose than to taunt me for, as he put it, my “topple of my grand high horse”. Oh, Eugenie, as irritating as he is, he is right. I am now nothing more than an inkeep’s daughter...Worse!... I am Bess the inkeep’s daughter. I wish I were dead!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eugenie, you are an Angel! A Jewel! A Diamond of the First Water! You are the paragon of every virtue ever ascribed to woman! We received the shipment of drygoods just this day and the bolts of cloth are all that is wonderful! I shall never again complain of woolens if they come in such beautiful shades and tones and textures! And though you could not have known it (or perhaps you could have!) You hit the date of my birth right on the mark! I am now (a very mature, so my Father tells me) fourteen and in reward he has allowed me to have my pick of any fabric in the lot. Though I admit I was tempted by the blue sarcenet, I know that Father could have put it to better use, so I (as a very mature person should) took only the spool of red satin ribbon. At first I was a trifle mopish, but as I ruminated, I realized that I was happier with the ribbon...Truly! With the sarcenet, I would have but one or mayhap two new dresses, but with the ribbon, I can adorn every outfit I own! It will be like having a whole new wardrobe. Father says the new ribbon looks very striking in my hair. Thank you so very much. I shall treasure it always!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eugenie, you will not credit this, but Jack was actually nice to me this day...better, he was a hero! Until now, he has been a constant thorn in my side, forever following me about and teasing me for putting on airs when, as I’ve told you, ‘tis he who thinks himself all that is wonderful. Well, I forgive him all now, for today, as I was walking back from church, I was set upon by some landowner’s sons who are nothing more than ruffians. They jeered and called me names, much worse than Jack was ever wont to do, then one grabbed my braid and yanked so very hard that it brought tears to my eyes. I pulled my braid away, but the ribbon came loose in his hand. It seems silly now, but instead of running, I remained, trying to get the ribbon back from the boys, who made a game of keeping it from me. I knew that I had a whole spool at home, but their bullying was so unjust that I fear my reaction was rather foolish. I hurtled into him, but he just shoved me to the ground and put his foot upon my person to keep me down. I do not know what I might have done, but just then, Jack rushed up like the proverbial bat and landed that big bully the most beautiful facer ever seen! He was felled like Goliath! Of course, all the other bullies soon surrounded us, but we fought back to back until we were able to make our escape. I know it was not ladylike, but it was exhilarating. And anywise, these are the wild Americas and anyone, even a lady, must be strong enough to fight. After we had eluded our pursuers, Jack took the ribbon that he had wrested from the bully and braided it into my hair, saying that it would be much harder to tug out that way. It was gruffly done, but sweet nonetheless. Tomorrow we are to go to the pond to fish and catch dragonflies. I am so happy to have a friend at last, even if it is only Jack.
##############################
Dear Cousin Eugenie,
Can it be that three years have passed already? It seems time flew! I am now a very mature seventeen, or at least that is what Father continues to tell me. I do not feel very mature, for I still sometimes resent our change in circumstances and the lowness of my lot now compared to what it once was. Still, I perform my duties with a cheerful mien, and even enjoy most of them. Chamberpots, though, I shall never take to.
Speaking of chamberpots, Jack is well. We are still friends, after a fashion, though we sometimes brangle in the most shocking way. He is just turned twenty and has taken up many duties for his father, so has no time for our old childhood games, but I suppose that is just as well, for I find I too have outgrown many of them. He is quite the American rebel, forever going to secret meetings to argue for the cause of freedom. I worry about him sometimes, for King George’s men have begun to take an interest in this “rabble-rousing”, but he is to wily to be caught.
I have made other friends as well. Cecily Portman is the daughter of the blacksmith and an accomplished flirt already. She is forever falling madly in love with whichever village boy speaks with her and is madly jealous when he shows interest in any other girl. I makes for a fiery friendship. Kirsten Johannssen is my other bosom bow, and much more steadfast than Cecily. Her father has a farm near the village. She is dutch and doesn’t speak english very well, though she speaks fluent french. Somehow, we manage anyways. I do not know if you remember Mrs. Farrow, though I’m certain Father has written to you of their attachment. T’was quiet a shock for me, I must tell you, though no one could be as pleased as myself. Father, as you must know, had never thought to take another wife, but when Mrs. Farrow set her cap for him, the poor man had not a chance. I vow, if I ever decide to court a gentleman, I will borrow a page from her book. Cecily should study with her on how to win and hold a husband!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is the most infuriating boy imaginable! He use to be game for any gig we could devise, like the time we stole into Proctor Harris’ barn and swung on the rope from the loft into the hay in the rick (please do not mention these contretempts to Father, for it would worry him most grievously). Now, however, Jack has turned into a veritable stick-in-the-mire! Cecily and I had borrowed some practice sabers that were a commission of her fathers, and were playing at being Amazons, when he galloped up on that huge, obnoxious horse of his, quite terrifying us both, and tore the sabers from our very hands! And then, he had the audacity to smack me across my backside with one! Then he read me such a sermon on placing myself in danger that it seemed a shame he’d never entered holy orders! Not only that, but he did not yell at Cecily at all, no, he was all worried consideration to her. And she! She lapped it up like a very contented cat with a bowl of fresh cream. Cow!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, Jack has mollified my anger somewhat. He has promised me that since I am fool (his word, not mine) enough to play with sabers, he will take it upon himself to teach me how not to cut myself. He was very condescending, but I will stomach it with equanimity. Who knows, perhaps I will be able to convince him to teach me to load and fire a musket as well!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My lessons proceed apace. In actuality, Jack says I am quite a hand at both saber and musket (yes, I finally convinced him to instruct me in that as well). Father does not think it is proper for me to be forever in Jack’s company, for he fears that I am become too hoydenish and he worries for my reputation, but this is not London and I think, especially now that he is to wed Mrs. Farrow, that Father refines too much on London Society’s rules. They simply do not apply here (as you observed in your last letter). Besides which, I will not allow him to curtail the one bright spot in my rather monotonous days. Cecily no longer speaks to me. She is very jealous that Jack and I are so close, which I do not understand at all, for he and I are merely friends. Ah, well, she was ever a volatile one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh Eugenie, I am in love!!!! Shockingly, exhileratingly, maddeningly, frighteningly, deliciously in love!! I am assured you will know immediately with whom. Indeed, from reading your letters, I am quite certain you’ve known for years what I have only just discovered!! As you know, Jack has been instructing me in the use of the musket. We were out practicing today, and I must admit I was rather distracted when loading it, for I had just had the most terrible row with Cecily (over Jack’s and my growing attachment, which I hotly denied at the time. I feel almost guilty about it now, save that Jack has never had an interest in Cecily). Anywise, When I fired the musket, it misfired and practically blew up right in my face. I must admit, I was stunned and the powder burned my eyes and caused them to tear, but Jack became like a madman! He swooped me up, raced me to the crik and began bathing my face with the water, then he began kissing me all over my face, saying “Thank god, thank god you’re alright”, then, of course, he started shaking me and yelling at me for my carelessness and that I should take better care of the woman he loved! It was quite the most callous, clumsy, romantic declaration ever imagined. Jack says we must wait to make a formal announcement, for what with the political unrest and his father’s business and my father’s impending nuptials (and my age, though I assured him that I was very mature for my years), he feels that it be better that we have a long betrothal. Oh, but Eugenie, then he kissed me so well and so thoroughly that I shall wait for him forever if that is what it takes. It is funny, He still has the power to infuriate me, but it is more than worth it when we make up!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wish Cecily Portman were dead. She is the most vicious, cruel girl ever to walk this earth. I do not know why she has involved herself in my affairs, for she has a beau of her own, now (though Tom, the ostler, is hardly a catch in anyone’s eyes), but nevertheless, that is what she has done. She spitefully and with full knowledge of what she was doing mentioned in my father’s presence not only that Jack and I were still meeting despite his command to me to curtail that activity, but she falsely accused Jack of taking advantage of my innocence and ruining me!!! Untrue and unkind, but Father will not heed my denials. Instead he has confined me to the inn and refuses to allow me to see Jack at all. Oh Eugenie, what shall I do?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time you read this, Eugenie, I shall be a married woman. Jack managed to convey a message to me to wait up for him, so that we might speak. He told me that he has one more commission that he must undertake for the colonial rebels tonight, but after it is completed, his allies have agreed to help us elope. It is very frightening, but very exciting. Oh, Eugenie, I hope all goes well!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am worried, Eugenie. Jack promised me that he would come this day, for he did not wish for us to travel by night unless absolutely necessary, but it is nearly sunset and still he is not here. He did say that if it were too dangerous, he would come to me at moonrise, but as every minute passes, I grow more and more anxious. Something has gone wrong, Eugenie, I know it. Or are these just the ramblings of a silly woman in love? And I do love him, Eugenie, so very much. I live for him...and I would die for him.