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Mar 18, 2013 13:30:45 GMT -5 |
Post by Arthur "England" Kirkland on Mar 18, 2013 13:30:45 GMT -5
[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony TIME: November 1689 NOTES: I just did research... on desserts. huzzah. xD
. . . Of course he had to hug Alfred in all of his soft-quilted glory. Quilts make people squishy, warm, and snuggly. It’s not his fault that Alfred suddenly looked very squeeze-able. ”I’ll point out some of the constellations that we didn’t get to see last time. Hopefully tonight if you’re not too sleepy.” It wasn’t often that Arthur allowed Alfred to stay up late, as he usually had to wake early for lessons, but Arthur was feeling selfish this visit… He wanted to spend as much time as he could with Alfred before the end of his month… or whenever his King called him away… whichever came first. Though, he’d already promised Alfred that he wouldn’t leave early, so he hoped that the latter wouldn’t be the reason for ending his visit.
Arthur’s fingers trailed along some of the patches that were probably new to Alfred’s eyes. They would be good precursors to stories that Arthur had yet to tell his colony.
”Yes, it’s perfect,” Arthur beamed at Alfred’s explanation, not caring at all if it came a bit late. ”This one will get special treatment above the others I own.” In all actuality, Arthur would almost be afraid to use his new teacup and wash it as often as he did with the others he owned. That ran the chance of it becoming chipped and worn. The thought of seeing something from Alfred become worn with time caused his spirits to sink a little. Nothing lasts… Green eyes glanced over towards the forlorn teacup on the table, briefly melancholy, but still elated that Alfred had given him something…
Arthur’s grin had widened when he heard Alfred’s laughter when he was pulled into a surprise embrace. Sometimes there was nothing better than a child’s laughter. Arthur found himself chuckling softly as well. For no reason beyond the fact that he was happy… content with simply being here with Alfred. Nothing compared—even all the gold that he had recently won from the Spanish bastard’s ships paled in comparison. Arthur paused in his shenanigans when he heard Alfred’s stomach make noises.
Light laughter escaped as Arthur watched Alfred pushed himself off from his lap. Arthur folded the quilt and he couldn’t help the correction from also passing his lips. ”You mean 'may we have supper…'” but it wasn’t harsh. Arthur stood as soon as he had neatly folded the large, thick fabric, as he made his way towards the kitchen as well. As it was already late in the day and it would normally take Arthur a good portion of a couple hours in advance to prepare a large meal, he was relieved to see that dinner was already prepared for them by the servants. It looked like some sort of brown stew along with braised meat, potatoes, and bread. Usually he insisted on cooking unless he was busy. Outside of this setting, he rarely ever got the chance to actually make meals.
Beneath the smells, there was also the scent of something sweet lingering in the air as it baked. The slightly tart aroma instantly told Arthur that it was apple pie—common enough for this time of year when the colonists were beginning to add dried apples into their diet, leftover from the harvest. Of course, dessert was only served on special occasions, as it was a status symbol of wealth in the Colonies, though Arthur suspected that Alfred had dessert far more often than just on special occasions whenever his household was able to buy costly supplies of sugar and refined flour whenever it was available. Alfred certainly had a fondness for sweet things…
The servants had already set out their places at the table. As it was growing dark, the candles and oil lamps were lit, providing sufficient, warm lighting. As they sat, Arthur was quick to remind Alfred to say his prayer of thanks for the meal before they started. Staring at Alfred for a moment, he suddenly wondered what it must have been like for Alfred to have had his meals alone for all these months… or with the household in the very least. The thought caused the nation’s heart to twist in the slightest as he moved the food around on his plate in contemplation. ”I… I apologise for not being here more often. Obligation can be a bit of a curse for our kind… and, well, I’ve missed you, Alfred. Deeply. Spending time with you means more to me than anything in this world...” he said, clearing his throat just a little. He looked back up at Alfred, giving him a sad smile. ”I hope that you can forgive me…”
. . .
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Mar 19, 2013 23:24:23 GMT -5 |
Post by Alfred "America" F. Jones on Mar 19, 2013 23:24:23 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Alfred had every intent to stay up as late as he could. This was a rare treat, and he certainly wanted to learn as many constellations as he possibly could. He thought some of the names were silly, and the some of the constellations looked nothing like their names suggested. Still, they helped him remember what they were.
The colony liked to make stories out of the constellations. Arthur told him some, but he liked to come up with his own too. He liked to be pretend that he could ride the bull in the sky. He even tried to see if he could fine new shapes and designs in the stars. Usually he would do this from his window at night, though, as he was usually sent to bed early so that he could wake up early for his studies.
"I'll give the ship and quilt special treatment too!" Alfred beamed when he heard what Arthur said about teh teacup. It seemed like a good response, plus he really would give them special treatment. They were gifts, after all, and a reminder of Arthur while he was away (which was still an awful lot).
"May we have supper, England?" Alfred repeated with the slightest bit of exasperation in his voice. Didn't "can" and "may" mean pretty much the same thing in this context?
As soon as he entered the kitchen, Alfred grinned when he saw that their food was already prepared. On one hand, he was slightly disappointed that he didn't get to help with supper. On the other? They wouldn't have to wait for the food to cook before they ate!
Alfred took a seat at his usual chair at the table. The portions on his plate were smaller than Arthur's though only slightly. Mary would often remark on how impressive Alfred's appetite was for his size, which Alfred took as a compliment. After heeding Arthur's reminder, Alfred started in on his braised meat. He looked up when he heard Arthur talking to him.
He was quite used to eating without Arthur - and doing most of his daily tasks without Arthur. He smiled at Arthur after he was done speaking. "Of course I can," Alfred shrugged. "You're always busy, that's nothing new." Alfred hardly knew any better. He knew that he missed Arthur while he was gone, considering the older nation to be something of a mixture between an older brother and a parental figure at this point, but Arthur's presence was an exception rather than a rule.
[style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 432 words for Arthur.
November 1689.
No notes again. XD [/style] |
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Apr 16, 2013 17:42:30 GMT -5 |
Post by Arthur "England" Kirkland on Apr 16, 2013 17:42:30 GMT -5
[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony TIME: November 1689 NOTES: .... Oh hello wall of text >>;
. . . Arthur hoped that Alfred was up for staying late… because he was intent on garnering as much time as he could with Alfred before leaving. Despite being busy spilling Spanish and French blood and procuring the world beneath his King, he still felt the pains of separation from the very few in the world that he cared for. It wasn’t easy being a nation. They had to make due with loss and separation far more than any human. It was painful being separated, but it was necessary and really out of Arthur’s control. He loved the boy dearly, but obligation and the very nature of who they were could not allow him to be what Alfred desired him to be in a traditional sense... That was life for their kind.
Which is why Arthur loved telling Alfred about the stars… To him, it felt like a vague connection… that no matter where he was in the world, the stars would remain constant. Even out at sea, close to the New World, with his body high on adrenaline and echoing soreness after long, soiled days of subduing the competition, the scent of blood and iron always present, he could look at the stars and wonder if Alfred happened to be looking at them as well… and he felt just a touch better. Even with the ever present vacancy at his side.
Arthur listened to and often encouraged Alfred’s own made-up stories about the constellations. He preferred those, sometimes, over the ancient ones, because they meant something a bit more to him personally. Even if they were ludicrous... Arthur didn’t mind. The older nation smiled softly when Alfred mentioned that he would take good care of his gifts. Once more, he playfully ruffled Alfred’s head of hair as they stood, showing appreciation for the sediment. Tilting his head in the slightest, Arthur hide the ever rising corners of his amused mouth at the small note of irritation in Alfred’s correction. ”Better... and yes.”
Arthur, himself, was also disappointed that he didn’t get to prepare anything for dinner… but still being travel weary and with how late he’d arrived, this was still the better option. There would be other nights, though... He was definitely determined to take up the reigns in most of the cooking duties, as it was something that he genuinely enjoyed doing… but that unfortunately came with a cost. It’s a good thing that the two of them had infamous iron stomachs…
Likewise, Arthur was quite used to eating alone… and just being alone in general. However, knowing what it felt like only made him feel all the worse for feeling responsible for causing Alfred to feel that way. This is why he never felt like he could be a sufficient older "brother" in a sense that his sodding so-called brothers were--not when they had abandoned him when he was young. Then again, theirs was a horribly manic effort to both push him away when he had reached out before unexpectedly tugging him closer whenever he attempted to fight back. It was an atrocious way for brothers to treat each other and Arthur never wanted to repeat history like that. Yet, it always had a funny habit of doing so anyway.
Arthur’s fork remained steady, not yet having touched his food, as he listened to Alfred. He felt a sickly warmth flood his stomach at his words... but really, what could Arthur do? Not much. They were bound by something deeper in this world. A nation’s choice was not only their own, but also their people’s and their leaders. Everything was complicated. A lesson that Alfred would surely learn in time. Arthur lips pursed slightly and he looked down at his food for a long, attentive moment before his gaze moved back towards Alfred. ”Thank you… though, I’d be here more often if I could.”
Arthur wasn’t sure how he really viewed Alfred—something more than just a colony, obviously. Someone that he felt strongly for—someone that he actually gave a damn for in this screwed up world. Not necessarily a brotherly connection, because that definition of a relationship was already fucked up beyond repair for Arthur… but not entirely fatherly either, or so Arthur told himself, because that implied that he believed himself to be fit for such a human, complex role… no, that was entirely too human… a role that nations can never really fill. A close guardian or mentor, perhaps? Labels were difficult to place over how he felt for Alfred. All he knew for certain was that he cared for him deeply.
Suddenly remembering to eat, Arthur shook away his morose thoughts as he began to cut into his meat, barely taking note that Alfred had quite the appetite as usual. ”I promise to take you back with me sometime.” Part of him wanted to make up for his absence… Arthur was usually wary with giving his word, especially when a gentleman ought to keep it regardless of circumstances. But Arthur was true to it to the best of his ability whenever he gave it. And this was one that he certainly wanted to promise. Of course, it was simply unacceptable for Alfred to be present when Arthur had to perform... less amiable “duties,” so he’d be sure to pick this voyage wisely.
. . .
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Apr 17, 2013 12:24:20 GMT -5 |
Post by Alfred "America" F. Jones on Apr 17, 2013 12:24:20 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Alfred had every intent to tell (and listen to) a few stories if or when they went stargazing that night. He hoped that England would keep his word!
Like Arthur, Alfred wasn't sure how to categorize his relationship with Arthur. He called Arthur his older brother. In some ways, it fit. He definitely felt a familial sort of affection for the older nation, and brothers were family.
Why not father, though? That was one Alfred didn't understand, although he was using a rather simple definition for father in his thinking. To him, fathers were the most important older male figures in a kid's life. That was how he saw most fathers act around him, and Arthur was the closest thing Alfred had to that definition at this point. Everyone else referred to them as brothers though, so it was understandably confusing...
He wasn't so sure he should bring up his confusion to Arthur, though. Arthur reacted rather strangely every time he'd tried in the past. Even calling Arthur older brother sometimes brought about odd reactions! Alfred wasn't sure what to make of it. Didn't Arthur consider him to be like family too?
Alfred was still quite young (at least physically and mentally). He had yet to understand that sometimes, things just weren't that simple. He didn't even know of Arthur's other family just yet. This was perhaps for the best, as the curious colony would have likely asked to meet them.
The colony's eyes lit up at Arthur's next comment. "Really?" Sure, they'd discussed it earlier in the day, but Arthur was bringing it up once more. Did that mean he was considering it some time soon? It seemed interesting that Arthur brought it up once more, that was for sure. To Alfred that seemed to suggest something, though maybe he was looking too far into it.
"Do I really have to wait until I'm up to your shoulders though?" Alfred questioned with a bit of a pout, reminding Arthur of his former statement and hoping that he could get the older nation to change his mind now that the subject was up again.
[style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 368 words for Arthur.
November 1689.
Hello what feels like a really short post compared to yours. >.< [/style] |
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May 26, 2013 22:36:56 GMT -5 |
Post by Arthur "England" Kirkland on May 26, 2013 22:36:56 GMT -5
[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony TIME: November 1689 NOTES: It's okay =D
. . . Arthur, in truth, also couldn’t wait to go stargazing with Alfred. It was their usual time spent telling their stories and even slipping in some information over how they’d really been doing for the past number of years during their separation. That was most definitely something that he was not going to skirt. Even if other things demanded his attention at the moment. Time was precious with Alfred… and Arthur was not about to go wasting it. Thinking upon his relationship with Alfred, it definitely did feel like a familial connection, completely categorised in a different way that what his actual brothers back at home were to him, but still just as unbreakable. Although, if Arthur gave it proper thought, he could see how confusing that could be for the boy…
The simple reason that Arthur didn’t think of himself as a father was because nations very rarely had those sorts of connections with others. They had guardians, mentors, or simply conquerors. Arthur only considered himself to have ever had the far latter. Which also accounted for the Englishman's usual, elaborate lie to the humans currently in their lives—particularly those running Alfred’s home. He was a guardian—a benefactor, perhaps even a distant relative, given how he barely looked like a seventeen year old man himself. Overall, Arthur did have a bit of what others would consider to be an odd reaction whenever Alfred brought it up. If Alfred didn’t mind the strange reactions, then Arthur would indulge him if he did ask for clarification.
In either case, Arthur very much kept his mouth shut about his own family back across the Atlantic. Young Alfred needn’t be subjected to his insane, alcoholic louts that he called brothers and his equally unstable sister. All of whom went through hell together for centuries—far more history on the same damned group of islands than most. In the deepest, most secret of Arthur’s admittance, however, he loved them dearly. But that didn’t stop him from being cruel to them just as they had been cruel to him in his youth. Vindictive, smug bastard. Though the hard truth was, no matter who would have ended on top amongst them, they would have been just as oppressive and dominant over the others as he was.
Arthur felt unexpectedly vulnerable at the sight of Alfred looking at him like that. That same, excited light entering his eyes that Arthur craved whenever he endured difficulties back at home or overseas. No one ever looked at him like that. The wonderful warmth spread and it made him smile. ”Y-yes, really,” he answered. His face shaded lightly with warmth, feeling every bit as content as Alfred appeared to be in that moment. He paused at Alfred’s next question, taking a slow bite of the roast that he was taking his time in tearing apart. Common sense told him that it would be better to wait for Alfred to age a bit, but he selfishly wanted to bring Alfred home with him at this moment. His thoughts flitted over other details, such as finally turning one of his guest rooms into Alfred’s second bedroom. The boy could help choose the colours, the items, and furniture. He wanted his home to be Alfred's home-away-from home. Yet another place that they could share.
Pushing back his plate, no longer feeling the pangs of hunger, Arthur cleared his throat a little. ”I… I don’t suppose that you really need to wait that long.” Arthur was staring down at his hands, the warmth returning to his expression. He felt like a shoddy guardian for going against his previous statement, but Arthur was feeling far more selfish than parental at the moment… Alfred could bloody well come with him if they both wanted him to. What’s the harm in that?
. . .
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May 27, 2013 0:24:11 GMT -5 |
Post by Alfred "America" F. Jones on May 27, 2013 0:24:11 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Alfred always had questions waiting for Arthur, questions that the servants could not answer - but the servants also had questions waiting for him. Alfred's circumstances were peculiar, and plenty of servants noticed this. They would ask Alfred questions about his past, questions that Alfred refused to answer out of principle.
Where had he come from? Did he recall anything before Arthur adopted him - about his family? He did not know where he came from. He did not recall anything before Roanoke. He did recall life before Arthur, but it was not a matter that the colony liked to discuss - nevermind that his answers would draw attention to the less than normal attributes he possessed.
He ran away from the first family that took him in because he was not aging, and that frightened them. There was also the matter of his strength. Earlier servants fell under the impression that Alfred was a klutz, with the sheer regularity at which he broke items that he would get his hands on. What they failed to realize was that Alfred had not mastered control of his own strength. In the early years, he had immense difficulty with knowing how much or how little of his strength to use at any given situation. Using too much of his strength could result in a breakage from applying too much pressure, while applying too little could result in Alfred dropping an item, causing it to shatter. Regardless, the item ended up broken.
Now, the primary concern was age. Alfred and Arthur could rarely keep servants for an extended period of time. Perhaps if it were only Arthur, he could keep on servants for a longer length of time, but Alfred's extraordinarily slow growth despite his physical age (an age where children were expected to grow at least an inch or two per year) was a red flag to anyone who stayed around for a length of time greater than a few years.
Alfred nodded as Arthur confirmed his words - and what bittersweet words they were. They offered a small comfort, along with empty promises. "Sure you would." Alfred smiled, his words lacking a certain conviction. Sure, Arthur might be around more if he could - but he wouldn't, so why get too excited? He continued on his food, finishing up shortly after Arthur.
The next bit of news Arthur provided him with was a cause for excitement, and it showed in Alfred's features. He was positively beaming. "Really? That's great! How long do I have to wait then?" He didn't want a vague response - He wanted specifics so that he knew what to look for!
[style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 448 words for Arthur.
November 1689.
Hello what feels like a really short post compared to yours. >.< [/style] |
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