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Post by Carolina on Oct 22, 2008 13:43:34 GMT -5
*A brusque, though not-unkind hand dragged Carolina along by the arm, forcing the child to abandon her thumb-sucking, which she had reverted to in place of speech over the last several weeks. The horrid lady had taken her to a cold, damp, lonely house, and locked her into a small, dingy room. Carolina spent the long hours crying for her parents, especially her papa.
Eventually, she numbly realized that Papa was never going to come. She fiddled with Katie's broken arm and the pendant from Mama, hiding both--in her pocket and under her collar, respectively-- when the old woman returned to give her food.
After many days of this, a stranger replaced the old woman. Carolina first tried to run past her when she saw the change, but was caught and locked back in.*
"I want my Mama! I want my Papa! Where are they?" *she wailed. The stranger gave her a pitying glance and shook her head.*
"Your grandmere's doin' the best she can with you, child, but you ought to know the truth as I had it from her myself--your parents died of the fever. They're angels now, pet."
*Carolina slumped to the floor at this, forgetting to reason that she already HAD two grandmothers, and she didn't think she ought to have three, and in any case, she hated this one...all that echoed in her childish mind was that Mama and Papa were dead.
She cried, again, for the first time in weeks, on her knees on the cold hard floor, her little hands clasped in pathetic prayer.*
"Mama...Papa...save me...please, take me with you...save me...Papa...Angel Papa..."
*Morning came, and with it no release, aside from the news brought three days later from the simple townswoman sent to look after her.*
"Your grandmere's gone and joined your parents, child...there's nothing to be done now, but find you a place."
"A...a...place? What about my brothers and sister?"
*The woman shook her head.*
"Probably in the workhouse. It's best not to go looking for them--don't worry, you'll do well enough, and better than the workhouse."
*Carolina had no idea what a workhouse is, but the prospect sounded grim enough to put off any grand schemes she had of escape or reunion.
And so, she was now to be trained up as a scullery maid, to help in the kitchens and doing the dirty work about this great house. True, it was smaller than her home with Mama and Papa had been, but she said nothing--anything was better than being locked up in that horrid room and having "grandmere" hissing and spitting at her like a terrible snake.
And so her place was fixed, and Carolina dutifully did the tasks assigned to her, too weary at end of day to even cry or pray, now.*
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Post by Carolina on Nov 2, 2008 9:28:24 GMT -5
***FIFTEEN YEARS LATER***
*A quiet girl of almost nineteen--some might call her a woman, if they knew not the naivete contrived by her simple circumstances--worked at a variety of tasks in the kitchens, in the laundry, in the gardens and cleaning about the house. She had a small room to herself after so many years of faithful service to the house and as she had no family to go to on her holidays, the housekeeper took some pity on her and gave her such sanctuary as could be afforded by merely having a closet-sized room of one's own.
Hard work had made her hardy and strong, and she rarely fell ill, though the end of each day brought its usual level of fatigue and she slept soundly, only occasionally troubled now by those dreams or nightmares of the family she could scarcely recall. Still, despite her work-roughened hands and the unladylike golden hue of her soft skin from her work out of doors in the summer, there was a genteel distinction about her features, unnoticeable at first, though it became more apparent the more one looked steadily at her and her bearing. However, as no one gave any of the maids about the house much thought, much less a look beyond what generally might be given to a single tree in a wood, she did not stand out. She moved quietly, part of the landscape, vaguely pathetic yet ignorable.
Carolina Grenier had no one to care for her in all of the world, and so, she in fair turn, cared for no one and nothing in return. She could read, but books were expensive and the library forbidden to servants. She could write, but had no one to write to. The only solace to be found was, for her, the beauty in nature, the ease of solitude, the only pleasures free to one such as herself.*
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Olivier
- Ingenious Pilot -
The Golden Boy%\0\%
Posts: 161
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Post by Olivier on Nov 3, 2008 18:46:41 GMT -5
**SOME POINT IN TIME**
**MARIANNE, OLIVIER'S MOTHER (I'M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS I PROMISE)**
*The new nurse had a habit of falling asleep and forgetting to hide the key. And as Marianne was not infirm, or utterly mad, but living in an alternate universe, she plucked the key out of the woman's hand, strolling the house that she could have been mistress of.*
*That was before Marc and Amelie had died. Since then, she'd lived in a different world, hardly noticing as her son grew up, raised (and adored) by his grandparents, aunts and uncles, and the playmate of the uncle-they-called-his-cousin, Laurent. As in her mind, she was blissfully happy, there was only the finest hint of lines around her eyes, the slightest protrusion of her delicate cheekbones. Her hair, still golden-hued, floated about her shoulders as she wandered in a nightgown through the house. She believed she was chasing her son: in her mind, she would see him and his sister grow to about five years old before her mind would reset itself, and they were infants again.*
*Grinning delightedly, and out of breath as if chasing a toddler, she poked her head into the kitchen.*
"Where's my boy, hmm?" *She giggled, in a voice still unsettlingly that of a young mother.*
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Post by Carolina on Nov 4, 2008 10:12:28 GMT -5
*Carolina glanced up from her work briefly, but said nothing and turned back to plucking the chicken as the cook bustled over to have words with the strange woman. Carolina had the vague notion she'd seen her around before, but she had no idea who she was, nor was she in a position of needing to know.*
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Olivier
- Ingenious Pilot -
The Golden Boy%\0\%
Posts: 161
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Post by Olivier on Nov 4, 2008 16:29:58 GMT -5
*The cook wasn't actually having much luck convincing Marianne to do anything. As, despite her condition, she was still very much a lady of the house, once the cook began coaxing her more forcefully, Marianne was having none of it. She stared imperiously down her nose, blue eyes narrowing.*
"I will have to speak to the housekeeper about you. I don't remember approving taking you on."
*The cook sighed exasperatedly, tired of this. Those who worked in the house eventually learned about Marianne, whose orders they had to listen to, but then ignore, and who they had to make sure stayed in the upper floors of the house with her nurse.* "Madam, with all due respect, I believe you're meant to be upstairs right now. If you'll only follow me..." *But cook made the mistake of gently taking Marianne's elbow and steering her out of the kitchen.*
"How dare you lay your hands on me in such a manner!? Where is my son!?"
*At that moment, a very handsome young man came padding in, looking ridiculously relieved to have found her.*
"Marianne, we've been looking everywhere for you!" *He said, using her first name to get her attention. After he'd turned about ten she'd stopped recognizing his voice. Once his voice had dropped, it sounded enough like his father's to fool her into listening.*
"Marc?" *She called softly, turning. But she frowned.* "You're not Marc."
"No, no I'm not Marc, but Olivier and Marc are upstairs waiting for you."
*She beamed.* "Really? Oh good, Marc must have taken him back. Thank you, young man, I'll go straight away..."
"Why don't you go with this nice lady? She's going to take you up to Marc and Olivier, yes, just go with her..." *He made sure she'd gone with the nurse before turning to the cook and the kitchen maid.*
"Cook, Miss, I'm so sorry about that... the new nurse keeps falling asleep on the job and Mother knows where the keys are, and you know how she is when she's having one of her less lucid days..."
*Cook sighed long-sufferingly.* "It's quite alright, Master Olivier." *Were it up to Cook, she'd have had the woman institutionalized long ago.*
"And you, Miss? She didn't disturb you?" *He looked awkward in the kitchen, too tall and refined, even though he was wringing his hands, anxious to make sure his mother hadn't upset anyone. She'd been known to truly distress people before.*
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Post by Carolina on Nov 5, 2008 8:08:51 GMT -5
*Carolina shook her head.*
"No, sir," *she said softly, turning back to her work. She had known more of madness than she'd ever cared to, and the blonde woman was by far the sweetest example.*
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Olivier
- Ingenious Pilot -
The Golden Boy%\0\%
Posts: 161
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Post by Olivier on Nov 5, 2008 10:12:40 GMT -5
"The nurse fell asleep, you see, and even if she's not quite lucid Mother is entirely capable of grabbing the keys and unlocking herself so that she can wander the house... she'll probably have an Episode tonight; one usually tends to follow the hide-and-seek hallucinations..." *He realized he was babbling about things that not everyone needed to know, turned a little reddish, then turned to go.* "I'll just be going, then." *Once he'd gone, the cook sighed to nobody in particular.* "Funny bird, that boy." *She muttered under her breath. *
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Post by Carolina on Nov 6, 2008 3:35:10 GMT -5
Indeed, *thought Caro, busily stripping the chicken of the last of its feathers so the cook could get to roasting it for the family's dinner that evening.*
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Post by Carolina on Dec 6, 2008 18:11:49 GMT -5
***NEW DAY***
*Carolina was hard at work in the kitchens one afternoon when a strange feeling passed over her. Perhaps she'd been too close to the fire. Retreating to a cooler corner of the kitchen did not dispel the lingering dizziness and feverish feelings. Reaching out to steady herself, her slipping hand knocked a crock of butter to the floor.*
"Foolish girl!" *snapped the cook, turning at the crash and seeing what she'd done.* "I've a mind to whip your clumsy--"
*Carolina did her own penance for the crime as she swiftly followed the crock to the floor, crumpling weakly into a dead faint.*
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Olivier
- Ingenious Pilot -
The Golden Boy%\0\%
Posts: 161
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Post by Olivier on Dec 6, 2008 18:23:29 GMT -5
*That night, when Olivier's dinner was brought up to his room (he'd been reading again and had forgotten to go down to dinner), it was missing butter. Before the footman who had brought it left, Olivier asked him if he could possibly bring some up, but evidently there was none.* "Well, you see, Monsieur, one of the kitchen girls fainted today and knocked it over." *Olivier paused.* "... which kitchen girl?" "If you don't mind my asking, sir, does it matter?" *Olivier was standing by now.* "Of course it matters! What was her name?!" *The footman rolled his eyes.* "I don't know, Claude, Constance, C-something or other." "Carolina?" "Yes, that's it, been here for..." *But Olivier was already on his way down to the kitchens, his heart beating erratically with emotions he couldn't quite identify. She was all alone, and Cook mayn't have called a doctor, and what if she was sick and there was nobody to care whether...* *The second thought was verified when he found that Cook had only put the girl in her room, assuming she'd wake up eventually. Olivier had burst in the door to find Carolina on her bed, white as a sheet, and immediately called for a doctor--not without some fuss at this time of night. Said doctor was tending to her as Olivier hovered inexplicably, fretting. *
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Post by Carolina on Dec 10, 2008 15:44:23 GMT -5
***NEW DAY***
*Carolina worked slowly, but steadily, still pausing for breath and strength as she was getting used to working again after she'd mostly recovered from her illness. Most of her chores she was still able to get done, though it took a bit longer than usual; and filling the coal hods were no exception. Smears blackened her hands and apron as she piled the slightly greasy chunks into the buckets to take into the house and by the many fireplaces. The kitchen alone was constantly burning fuel to keep water heated, along with roasting and baking and boiling for the household.
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Post by Marc Desmarais on Dec 10, 2008 16:17:47 GMT -5
The ghost of Marc of drifted into the kitchen, searching for nothing in particular and having no real destination in mind. He paused, distracted by the girl that was diligently at work.
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Post by Carolina on Dec 10, 2008 16:43:10 GMT -5
*Carolina bent to retrieve more coals, her pendant slipping from under her high collar and swinging freely for a moment, catching the light. Swiftly tucking it back into place, careless of the new sooty smudges at her neck, she glanced about the kitchen to make certain no one had seen as she continued to work.
She caught sight of a tall young man standing nearby, who she'd never seen before, and yet he seemed distinctly familiar. With a gasp, she dropped a bit of coal with a clatter, curtseying quickly.*
"Forgive me, sir--I didn't hear you come in."
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Post by Marc Desmarais on Dec 10, 2008 16:51:19 GMT -5
"I'm sorry..."
His voice was faint, though it could be heard clearly.
"I thought you were someone else..."
She vaguely reminded him of another kitchen girl, one who used to work for the house when he was child.
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Post by Carolina on Dec 10, 2008 16:54:43 GMT -5
"So did I," *she replied.* "I mean...you...seem familiar."
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