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 Posted: Thu Jul 12, 2012 6:16 pm
The Broken Bone
A roleplay involving Wickwright Finch, his Plague, Hopkin, the Cocoa Plague Lettie Arelgren, the refugee, Marian, the Seventh Man of the Jawbone Society, Yates, and his daughter, Agnes. The time is afternoon, the weather is rainy, and the place is Yates's house.
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Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2012 10:22 pm
It was not Yates who came to greet Wickwright Finch, Lettie Arelgren, Marian, and Hopkin when they reached their destination, but his daughter. Hopkin and Lettie were hidden in the book bag for the time being as Agnes Yates led the two visible members of their party mutely through to the main room. She then returned to her work, informing the company that the man who they had come to see, her father, was out, and she did not know when he would be returning this day. Marian, Hopkin, and Wickwright watched her go, then at last, Hopkin remarked, "This is most hideously inconvenient," perhaps summing up the feelings of the entire group. Had Marian not been with them, Wickwright at least would have been perfectly comfortable kicking his feet up in a chair and enjoying Jawbone hospitality while Yates ran off to bone-knew-where, but Marian was here, and he wanted to get her sorted out with Yates so that he might be sure he wouldn't have to tote her all the way to Mishkan. Company was one thing, but much like he hadn't wanted to bring Lettie with them, the burden of responsibility was quite another. Much better to fob it off on someone else!
Marian herself said nothing, but paced anxiously around the small room, eyes darting to each entrance as if marking them in her head. She had not been completely sold in coming to see Yates, and was still skittish around other people, despite Hopkin, Wickwright's and Lettie's company to ease her into it. Wickwright had had to bat her hand down when Agnes had opened the door suddenly after they knocked, and there was the incident with Dragomir and Chayele that everyone was very pointedly not speaking of still fresh in their minds. Wickwright watched her pace over steepled fingers, as if waiting for another outburst, but it was Hopkin who looked most anxious, for he liked order and peace, and Marian's skittishness disrupted that order most frequently.
Agnes re-entered the room with food, which did not go unappreciated. Wickwright gladly took some, and Marian's hand hovered over the try, but it took a few insistent nudges from Agnes to make her pick up a slice of cheese hesitantly and nibble on it, eyes widening when she did so. It had been a long time since Marian had eaten cheese. "It's good!" she exclaimed in surprise, taking three more pieces. Agnes merely looked over at Wickwright, who wiped his mouth.
"She hasn't been in society for some time now," he offered by way of explanation, and Marian turned beet red, putting a few slices of cheese rather reluctantly back where they came from. Agnes was not the kind of girl who pried, but nor was she the kind who encouraged Marian to go on and have more cheese anyway. She set the tray down on the table, and as she left, Wickwright stopped her.
"Agnes, do you know when your father might be back approximately?"
"He usually returns home after dark," she replied dutifully. Wickwright's brow furrowed, but he thanked her and she left.
From the book bag, Hopkin repeated, "Usually."
Wickwright nodded grimly. "What could make him leave his home all day on a regular basis without telling Agnes where he's going?" He could think of only one explanation, and it did not bode well for the Society: Yates's successor had run off and joined the Obscuvians, so perhaps his father was an informer. He would have to take more care seeking Yates's favour regarding Hopkin than he had with the other men of Bone.
Marian merely watched Agnes's retreating back nervously, fiddling with her hair as she paced. "Yates was Yawley's partner?" she asked for the fourth time that day.
"Yes," replied Hopkin before Wickwright could, for that fact was key to his plan for fixing Yates and Yawley, "And he will be again, also."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 5:45 am
Lettie's "good cheer" obviously had little affect on the Finch company, and it was plain as day to her why. Her lyrics were horrendously depressing and her voice held the toll of a funeral bell as opposed to her usual, trademark celebratory chimes. She remained indifferent about the previous encounter with Chayele and Dragomir Meschke, and thought little of either of them as time in the Finch wagon passed. Upon reaching their destination, Lettie and Hopkin hid within Wickwright's bag, a place not unlike Dorian Arelgren's pocket. The company was notified that Yates was out, and in his stead, his daughter Agnes treated the four visitors, mute though courteous. However, Lettie cared more about Marian than she did Agnes. Agnes still had her caretaker while Marian had none. This, to Lettie, was a terrible thing. She, too, lacked a caretaker, as Wickwright was only a temporary one. Lettie didn't feel that it was entirely fair that they were thrusting Marian at Yates, for she wanted to see it through herself that Marian found her Da. Yet, she herself was already a burden to Wickwright as she was an additional Plague in his party. Knowing this, she chose not to press the issue with Marian.
Marian, unsurprisingly, acted awkwardly and mutely. She, like Lettie, wasn't awfully fond of Wickwright's proposition on seeing Yates.
Agnes entered with food which Wickwright found to his fancy. The Grimm took some, and Lettie too after Agnes had left. As a Locos, she could taste the creaminess of the cheese, her anatomy being the most similar to humans. Soon, Marian surrendered. Lettie wearily smiled at Marian when she began to finally eat, though she stopped smiling when the Finch company learned that Yates was a late returner. Wickwright knew Yates better than any of them, then, perhaps, Agnes, so Lettie couldn't give an adequate answer on why he would be missing without telling his daughter his whereabouts.
"Yes," replied Hopkin before Wickwright could, for that fact was key to his plan for fixing Yates and Yawley, "And he will be again, also."
Lettie's dotted mouth fell into a frown.
Despite everything, she wouldn't want another partner, another Grimm if she had to pick another one.
Surely, it had to be the same for Yates?
"Would Yates get along with Yawley?" Lettie sniffled, tugging at Hopkin's sleeve for an adequate answer. She didn't understand it.
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 8:09 am
Marian seemed equally confused at Hopkin's statement. "But Yawley's dead," she insisted. "How can they be partners again?"
Hopkin shook his head and replied, "No, Marian, Yawley is alive."
"We burned his body ourselves!"
Wickwright intervened here. "It's a Society matter," he said simply, and stared at his hands while he elaborated. "The original nine men of Bone realized, upon the founding of the Jawbone Society, that no one man could live long enough to find every truth in every object, not even if there were nine of them." He broke one of the pieces of cheese into nine bits and set it up on the table. "Therefore, the True World that they worked to build would be useless to them, as they would fail and die long before it reached completion." He knocked one of the pieces of cheese over and tore out a new one from another slice. "Sons took the place of their fathers in the Society, but that alone was cold comfort to many men of Bone, and troublesome to their partners, who had to adjust to a new, younger man." He put in the new piece, which didn't quite fit with the other eight. "Hence the solution: Every man of Bone was raised to act exactly like his predecessor and, upon induction, take his place as the same man. By preserving the truths relevant to their predecessor, that made it so their predecessor would have a place in the True World they strove to make, as his truths would live on in his heir." He took out the new piece and replaced it with the piece that fit and had fallen, leaning back to allow his audience to survey it.
"So, Lettie Arelgren," explained Hopkin, "A Yawley is a Yawley is a Yawley, and a Yates is a Yates is a Yates. They have been trained from birth to be preserve the truths of the last man, who carries with him the truths of the man before that, all the way to the beginning. There are no new men, simply new bodies."
"And, since the lineage is through the son, not terribly new bodies at that, even," finished Wickwright. "Your question would make no sense in the context of the Society codes. There is technically supposed to be no difference between this Yawley and his father."
"Any difference arises merely through unfortunate circumstance, which is why there are partners," Hopkin asserted. "One tempers the other." He patted her reassuringly, although he could not quite comprehend why she was so upset. To him the matter seemed plain even before Wickwright's explanation. "So you see, even though Percy Yates has defected to the Cult, it makes no difference whether it is he who partners with Yawley or his father, Victor, who we are waiting upon."
Here Marian interrupted. "He joined the Cult? Is that something that every Yates would have done?" Suddenly she looked far more anxious about her situation.
Wickwright handwaved her concern away. "Stressful times obviously make it difficult to raise an heir precisely in the way he must be raised. There are too many outside factors for misery. Many Jawbone heirs these days have problems that have arisen from Plague and politics. It is a turmoil which we deal with." Despite his soothing words, his anxiety about Victor Yates being a spy lingered heavily over his own head, so he turned to Lettie and Hopkin, who had come out to try the cheese, and tried to sound as casual as possible when remarking, "But do stay hidden, the both of you. No need to court trouble."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 8:32 am
Lettie agreed with Marian's question. Dead men were dead while living ones remained. She couldn't fathom how Yawley and Yates could be partners with one six feet under, or should she say, burned at the pyre. She could give a testimony herself on how the man disappeared in flames, but Wickwright intervened with, literally, a cheesy metaphor. While the Jawbone culture's logic was coherent, Lettie found it personally very unacceptable and mentally limiting, ironically. She thought about the Arelgrens and how they could never harness such a system. There simply wasn't another Arelgren that came after Dorian in the same way there wasn't another Grimm that could replace him. There just had to be differences between Yawley and his father. Sons and fathers were very different, but Lettie didn't know this very well because Dorian didn't know much about his own father and Lettie didn't have one. Neither of them harbored any interest about parentage at the time, for neither the Grimm nor Plague was burdened by bloodline issues. It was more of an issue about who was to be killed and if Dorian would be killed, though Lettie wondered if the cult was honestly that critical with punishment. Now that she thought about it, she could decisively conclude that her Grimm was probably just unreasonably paranoid.
It had to be that damn Enfield-North repeater's fault, but it didn't matter now.
Instead of sputtering aloud her thoughts on Yates or Yawley, Lettie gave Hopkin a small "Oh."
She rubbed her cheeks, confused and dejected. Wickwright and Hopkin seemed very content with the entire Yates-Yawley business, but Lettie supposed that this was a way of life and therefore she should respect it. She wasn't a Jawbone thing.
But she still couldn't forget what Wickwright had said about the Yates boy joining the cult, for the very word "cult" had a different connotation to it altogether to the hot cocoa girl, and it seemed to bother Marian too.
"He joined the Cult? Is that something that every Yates would have done?"
Wickwright gave a lighthearted answer, but it wasn't very good in Lettie's opinion.
"An Arelgren might have done that," she confessed before climbing back into Wickwright's bag and taking a piece of cheese with her. "But maybe Yates was trying to escape."
She added sagely, "Children these days."
Nibbling on her cheese, Lettie thought about Wickwright's assuring words and decided that there was an nugget of truth in them.
Hadn't Dorian killed a man?
He did, she reminded herself, and so did Dragomir Meschke.
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 2:38 pm
"Percy is gone, and is of concern to none of us anymore, unfortunately. I'm sure his father mourns him, but arrangements will be made to replace him with a boy from one of the outer rings of the Yates family."
"So it won't even be his son?" Marian demanded. "Isn't that pointless, then?"
Wickwright coughed. "Have I told you about my second cousin and potential heir, Feilim?"
Marian reddened and looked at the ground. "I mean, maybe it will work out after all," she mumbled. "But how do we know the new Yates won't join the Cult, too? How do you know that the whole family aren't just a bunch of Cultists?"
"Because!" Hopkin asserted, sounding somewhat upset, "They are men of truth!"
It was one thing to argue with Wickwright, and quite another to upset a tiny excito like Hopkin, so Marian dropped the matter. As she did though, they became aware of voices at the front door. Hopkin scurried into the bookbag as Agnes re-emerged in the room, with her father in tow, dripping wet and holding a lute, which he turned upside down until rainwater splashed out. "Damn that rain, cutting off my plans- Oh, Finch!" he exclaimed jovially, rushing up to shake his hand. "And a mystery guest!" He shook Marian's hand as well, then picked up his lute and shook that, presumably because he had run out of hands. "Agnes! Some refresh- Oh, you've offered them already. Carry on, then!" He kissed Agnes's cheek, which elicited the briefest of smiles, then the dour girl turned on her heel and vanished.
"Not a ray of sunshine, my Agnes," he remarked as she left. "I can't imagine what happened."
"Her mother died," a voice from near Wickwright's foot offered helpfully, and Wickwright broke into another coughing fit.
"Yates!" he exclaimed, rising to greet him in turn before he could process the interruption. "I have just come from Gadu to see you on Society business,"
Yates's eyes glazed over faintly, and he asked, "Have you? Well then! Can't put that off, I suppose. And this...?" He gestured briefly at Marian, who looked rather resentful at the prospect of being a "this".
"A refugee from Lindenwood. I was hoping you could get her to Mishkan."
Yates hesitated at the word 'Lindenwood,' but no sooner had Wickwright spoken it than Agnes reappeared. "My father can arrange it, Finch," she affirmed authoritatively, and Yates looked vaguely relieved.
"Well, if Agnes says I can, eh?" Chuckling, he sat himself down next to Finch and waved at his daughter. "You go off now, we have Society business to discuss." Agnes grabbed Marian's elbow to lead her away, but at the last moment, Wickwright nodded at his bag, and she dove down to grab it as they passed. Agnes, Marian, Lettie, and Hopkin went through to the kitchen, where Agnes returned to cutting vegetables for a stew that appeared to be dinner.
"I apologize for my father," she said tersely as she diced carrots. "He isn't himself."
Somewhere in the bookbag, Hopkin frowned deeply at this nonsensical complexity. Marian, long unaccustomed to polite society and bristling with suspicion, blurted, "Do you think he's a cultist, then?" From the bag, Hopkin gasped, and Agnes stared at it.
"That bag spoke before," she accused. "How dare you suggest my father is hiding such a secret when you're clearly keeping one of your own?"
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 7:46 pm
The Jawbone business sounded as messy as it was formulaic. Lettie, finished with her cheese, was more keen now. She stared up at a wayward ray of light that made its way into the bag and used the hole that it came through as the link to the outside. She couldn't make out entirely what conversation took place, but the addition of a new tenor suggested that Yates had returned. He carried a jovial tone in contrast to Agnes, which, as Hopkin put in, was because her mother died.
Lettie felt the bag lift, and she almost lost her balance had she not clumsily grabbed onto a leather something (the bag's hide) and a wrapped something (Hopkin's face). When she realized what the latter was, the Locos stifled a yelp and quickly released her eyeless friend's noggin. Outside the bookbag, Agnes and Marian were conversing, the Yates girl sounding apologetic as she prepared the carrots.
"I apologize for my father," came her terse voice. "He isn't himself."
Hopkin frowned, and Lettie mimicked his expression.
"Do you think he's a cultist, then?" offered Marian. It seemed to be something bugged the girl, and while Lettie didn't think that Yates was a cultist (mainly because he didn't carry the demeanor nor mask of one), she toyed around with the possibility.
Hopkin did a poor job of remaining silent, but Lettie wasn't adept at it herself. He was considerably louder, emitting a large gasp at Marian's last words. Lettie almost chimed.
Agnes spoke in mid-dice, having heard the Plague herself.
"That bag spoke before," she accused. "How dare you suggest my father is hiding such a secret when you're clearly keeping one of your own?"
Before Marian could cut in, Lettie found her fire getting the better of her. She didn't want to make Wickwright appear poorly by keeping secrets, but what she didn't know was that her own actions had potential to make things worse. Lettie just had a poor history with secrets and thus didn't like them.
"We're not a secret!" cried the Locos indignantly, puffing her cheeks. She grabbed Hopkin by the hand and tugged him out with her, their heads popping from the bookbag's mouth. "We're good Plagues!"
She kept eyeing the carrots on the cutting board, fancying one, before glaring at Agnes again.
"I'm Lettie the Ladyplague and this is Hopkin the Book," declared Lettie the Ladyplague, who, by this point in her journey, did not like hiding nor secrets much. She tipped her cap authoritatively and forgot to curtsy. "I am a Finch assistant and Hopkin is a good book."
"So...So we aren't secret!" she continued to press, "Because!"
"Because! We're out now!" came the finish.
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Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2012 12:16 pm
If Lettie had been expecting a ladylike reaction from Agnes, she wasn't about to get it. The girl turned white as a sheet and brandished her knife at the Plagues, staring at them as if they were some sort of monsters. Marian, long used to harbouring more sympathy for Plagues than humans, took out the crossbow she could barely fire and hissed, "Oh no you don't," and Hopkin, unused to all sorts of women, but well accustomed to problems, hurried between the two of them, trying desperately to act like Wickwright.
"Please stop!" he whistled in his tinny voice, "Women are of a very delicate constitution so it's pointless for you to try and fight unless you are a woman of Bone, such as Bunting!"
It was clear that Hopkin was not going to be of much help, but Agnes, staring at the crossbow, set down her knife far from Lettie, and gave Marian a look of such obvious distaste that it was clear even to her that she'd done something wrong. She set her weapon down as well and looked at the ground, muttering, "Sorry, I panicked," adding "You were going to stab them, though!" somewhat defensively.
"Would you have reacted better if two Plagues had appeared in your kitchen?" asked Agnes, but once her composure was collected, it appeared to be quite unassailable. "I will accept your apology, but only because you're from Lindenwood, and I suppose you've been out of polite society for some time now." Marian nodded mutely, well equipped to handle an old man like Wickwright, but quite unable to hold her own against a girl her age. Agnes continued, "We harboured some refugees from Lindenwood ourselves."
"Yawley and Elspeth Yawley," said Hopkin, and Agnes startled, clearly still somewhat unsettled by the Plagues.
"How did he know their names?" she demanded. "Is that a bad omen?"
"I am a Jawbone book," explained Hopkin.
She looked at Hopkin, then at Marian, who nodded in confirmation, but looked perhaps a tiny bit smug about Agnes being so scared of the Plagues.
"You're not Richard's book?" asked Agnes, looking appalled.
"No, I found that and saved it, you're welcome," announced Marian loftily, having finally gained the upper hand somewhat. "This is Finch's book."
"And what is the other one?" demanded Agnes, "Besides a Finch assistant, unless I suppose she's the corpse of some Bunting!"
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 27, 2012 5:40 am
"I'm not a corpse!" Lettie screamed indignantly. She was already appalled by Hopkin's description of women, but she dismissed it by clenching her fists. "I'm a respectable, noble cup of hot cocoa. Corpses don't come with ribbons, lace, and niceness!"
Agnes's blade didn't pose much of a threat to Lettie, having been exposed to far more dangerous weapons in the Enfield-North shop. While Lettie knew that it was common for her to be bold, she also acknowledged that it was uncommon for her to be furious. Irascibility was a recent experience that being Dorian's accomplice slowly introduced, but it wasn't a petty thing. Straightening her back, Lettie calmed herself down with a strong sniff. If nobody was going to rationalize things as they were, the hot cocoa girl would be the first to do so.
"He is a book boy and I am a hot cocoa girl," she announced, more composed this time. She threw a sideways glance to the taller girl and nodded at the shorter. "Marian is a human girl. You, Agnes, is also a human girl."
Yet neither of them were to blame for any of it.
"Hopkin and I remain hidden to ease Wickwright of his burdens. It isn't good news for Plagues to run rampant where Panymian eyes can easily see them. We are foreigners in our own motherland, we are not like you humans, Hopkin and I" Lettie explained. She reached forwards to hold Hopkin's hand and held it loosely.
"Sometimes horrible things happen to people who are close to Plagues, but that is just how...how it all happens," she continued, and her face dimmed in its glow. "It happens to humans without Plagues too, bad things, so...so that's why sometimes Plagues and humans help each other."
She looked up at Marian and Agnes somewhat dejectedly and then back at her shoes. She tapped them, unsure of how exactly to conclude. Her dotted mouth trembled.
"S-So you see, Hopkin and I are assistants. We try to help."
Lettie tasted the words in her mouth. She'd need to convince herself of what she wanted to actually believe.
"We try to help because we've got to. We've got to help."
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Posted: Mon Sep 17, 2012 9:01 am
"Lettie Arelgren is a cup of hot cocoa," Hopkin affirmed patiently, aware of the tense atmosphere and eager to help assuage it, but not quite sure how to do so unless by providing as many answers as possible. "But she is also a girl and a Plague, just as I am Hopkin and a boy and a book. And not Yawley's book," he added with just a hint of distaste. Hopkin himself was a hastily contrived mishmash, made of parchment from various animal skins of varying quality and whatever sorts of ink the materials were at hand for at the time, but he was at least better-crafted than the Yawley tome. That book had been made by one who knew very little of the craft, and while Hopkin was made cheaply as a book could be, it was at least by the hand of an expert. "The Yawley book is safe in Wickwright's possession."
Marian looked like she was about to object to Wickwright's possession, but she was no Jawbone man. Though Richard's father was her temporary namesake, she had even less claim to the book than Wickwright did, and furthermore found it exceedingly difficult to argue with Plagues after having spent so long with them as her only company. It was easy to get properly seething at Agnes, who was clean and feminine and sheltered and human, and less so to nitpick with someone no bigger than her hand.
Agnes, on the other hand, was still struggling to come to grips with the situation, composed though she might be. "You have names?" she enquired first and foremost. Marian snorted and Hopkin nodded obligingly.
"Just Hopkin, not Hopkin Finch. I'm not a Finch, only his book. Lettie is an Arelgren though, because Dorian Arelgren says so."
Agnes hesitated, clearly still reluctant to trust the pair of them even with Hopkin's explanations and Lettie's outbursts. But whatever she believed, her believing it would not make the three of them leave her house any faster, so instead she asked, "You know Yawley's first name. Whitney Yawley."
"We met him in Gadu. Well, Wickwright and I. Lettie Arelgren joined us shortly after, and Marian last of all. He said he is safe in Gadu and well."
"I knew Whitney from childhood," Marian asserted at this juncture just to prove her continuing relevance to the conversation.
"That's all he said," Agnes repeated, ignoring Marian and looking at Hopkin.
"No, he said more, but none of it for Yates, though if you like, I can recite the entire conversation. First Wickwright said 'You heard about Hopkin before-'"
"That's all right!" interrupted Agnes. Hearing of Yawley seemed to have put her at relative ease. "I apologise for my tactlessness, Lettie. I've had to help my father and Yawley as you help Finch, and we've already had enough misfortune in this household without more flying in through the door."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2012 2:20 am
"What Hopkin says is true," Lettie defensively added, and smoothed her skirt with her palms. She reddened when Hopkin mentioned Dorian's name, and quickly answered Agnes to distract the girl from the blossoming pinks: "A-And it's alright, I understand."
She does empathize with the girl, for tactlessness isn't the root of their anxieties. The elements that evoke tactlessness were the ones to blame, and Lettie knew this better than any Plague, for her own origin was a testimony to such fact. Being a Plague was no privilege, rather, it offered a new perspective on Panymian life.
"It's...It's difficult to be lucky in Panymium--" Lettie chimed carefully, and once she'd found the eloquence to continue, her voice diminished before it grew. "--because it's plagued with more troubles than us Plagues alone."
"But I've learned that we don't need to confront Panymia's ails alone," she thoughtfully added, "--otherwise, Grimms wouldn't need Plagues, and Plagues wouldn't need Grimms."
She gave Agnes a shy, small smile.
"S-so you don't have to apologize to me, Agnes! We're both troubled ladies, after all, but neither of us are alone anymore."
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Posted: Sun Oct 14, 2012 5:53 am
During this whole exchange Hopkin looked antsy, and when Lettie had stopped speaking, he burst out with, "Then if you accept us, you must aid us in bringing Yawley and Yates together again!"
"You misunderstand me," Agnes explained, "I will allow you in my kitchen but I have no intention of working with your kind, no matter what foolish decisions Finch and, Dorian Arelgren, was it, choose to make with their lives. I understand that the situation may be different for Grimms. I am not a Grimm and feel no such compulsions."
Marian opened her mouth to protest, but this was entirely Hopkin's argument and he was most perturbed by the direction it was taking. "But if you could only convince Yates, then Yawley would not be so broken and ill-fitting as he is. I fear that if he is without Yates much longer he will not act like a Yawley at all! He needs Yates to be in Gadu with him, or else things will stay false, and you must convince him, for I have no time to make the appeal when we must care for Lettie!"
"Whitney isn't broken," retorted Agnes sharply, "And my father was never intended to be his partner. Do you think we don't know that this isn't how it was supposed to go when my own-"
She took a deep breath. "Did Whitney ask you to do this for him?"
"No, but-"
"Then he doesn't need it to be done. How dare you question a fully fledged Jawbone Man, such as you are?"
"I may be corrupted, but I have seen the True World," Hopkin begged, "And I know it to be true that Yawley needs Yates. And does not Yates need Yawley? If not your father, can you not retrieve your brother?"
"I pity my brother if he ever meets Whitney Yawley again in his life, for I feel it would go middling poorly for him," Agnes retorted icily. "If you want to interfere in the business of those who work in truth because of some half-dazed fantasy, you can plunge into the Cult and drag my brother back to Yawley for a just punishment. I will not stop you."
"I will, if I must." Hopkin seemed deflated, but not defeated, speaking his promise clearly and looking directly at Agnes. Agnes returned his gaze, and soon he withered under the pressure, backing away and wringing his hands as if he was suddenly ashamed of saying anything at all.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 3:46 am
While Agnes's answer was slightly disheartening, Lettie was respectful of it, though admittedly depressed by it, too. Ever since her separation with her Grimm, she had found companionship in others as a source of good cheer, and she felt as if it wouldn't harm Agnes any. Unlike herself, Hopkin was more jittery about the issue. Lettie had always been receptive to Hopkin's quirks, and his uneasiness didn't go unnoticed this time, either. While she wasn't a Finch, she's conscious that the union of Yawley and Yates was critical to her bookish friend, but Hopkin had always been specific in his understanding of things; it complicated his attempt in winning Agnes over. Frustrated, Hopkin continued to ramble on, and Lettie politely allowed the Finch business to remain Finch business by not butting in until her name was mentioned.
Her voice gained a tinny quality that resembled the book plague's own, and she cried quite indignantly, "You must not prioritize caring for me, Hopkin! I am a simple cup of hot cocoa, and you are a Finch's boy with Finch business--"
Lettie's voice fell silent when she realized that she, too, was in a poor position to speak. She would have offered her aid as an Obscuvian, but Agnes's expression was an effective damper. Supporting Hopkin would only shame Hopkin more, and there had been too much shame to go around. Who was she to tell him what to think of her when he could barely get Agnes to see from his own perspective? Lettie felt for both of them, and her insides felt strangely again. She wasn't sure if it was her physical body or her tumultuous feelings, but none of it was important.
She balled her hands into fists, and decided to speak with courage. The Servos girl didn't look directly at Agnes like her friend did, but focused on the human girl's feet.
"But Finch business certainly isn't in good weather, is it, Ms.Agnes?" Lettie chimed softly.
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 1:40 pm
"Trouble comes on a Finch's wing," retorted Agnes briskly. "I don't know how many Jawbone secrets your friend Hopkin has been sharing with you, Lettie, but that is a Jawbone saying older than time out of mind. Whenever a Finch comes knocking at your door with a strange request and a glimmer in his bright blue eyes, it means nothing but trouble for anybody. Ask Bunting."
Hopkin shook his head, squirming uncomfortably. "Th-that is just a saying!" he moaned. "And I am no Finch, so this cannot be Finch business. I am not suggesting a radical change, I am simply saying that we must restore what once was."
"You weren't here when my brother left," Agnes said. "I know him and Whitney far better than you ever will, and I say let it be. Hasn't enough been broken without a Plague coming in and meddling in business which doesn't concern him? This isn't your Grimm's problem, nor is it yours. Haven't you caused enough grief to the Finch family without bothering Yates and Yawley?"
"He's trying to help!" Marian interjected, having failed to suppress her tongue at last. "Plagues aren't bad just because you think they are!"
"Being bad has nothing to do with it!" Agnes slammed her hand down on the table, upsetting the vegetables she had come in to cut. "Haven't I had enough to deal with without watching Finch come and bring yet more trouble to my doorstep? My father is in no state to deal with a Finch man's antics, and I cannot allow a Finch man's book to bring yet more suffering upon us by bringing my brother back and causing yet more strife! Let it be, Hopkin! If you will listen to no petition but that of a Jawbone Man's, I will write to Yawley and demand he ask you. Let it be." She took a deep breath and recomposed herself, but she was not finished. Turning to Lettie and Marian, she said, "You know even less of this affair than he does. If you wish to stay in this household, by my hospitality, you will not defend him when you cannot possibly comprehend what he means to suggest."
By her stance, Agnes was steeling herself for another spat with Marian, but found that her partner was unwilling to spar. Marian had been distracted, and was now staring, catlike, at the door, suddenly wary.
"What," demanded Agnes, who couldn't help but follow her gaze.
Moments later, there came a knock, and Agnes, incredulous, went to answer it. By the time the door was opened, Marian was standing in a corner, still quite unprepared for polite society but very prepared for hearing oncoming visitors and hiding from them. Hopkin, his nerves jangling from having to speak for himself without Wickwright to guide him, hid with Marian, but being possessed of a greater curiosity than fear, peered out from the corner to see who was at the door.
"Tadhg O'Neill!" he squeaked with shock, and the lanky, red haired visitor looked up. Hopkin darted back into hiding.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 2:37 pm
Agnes' slam made Lettie jump in unison with the vegetables, but she quickly composed herself.
"That may be so, miss Agnes, but trouble is not a discriminatory disease," Lettie muttered under her breath. Hopkin rarely shared Finch secrets with her, but it Jawbone men, as Lettie had come to learn, had their own unique politics. She didn't need Hopkin's information to know this. Merely traveling alongside Wickwright Finch and his book was enough to be luminary on the subject, and Lettie understands that her own attempts to interfere, regardless of how empathetic they are, would be futile. Hopkin's adamant behavior was virtuous on his own part, but she, as a woman and as a victim herself, saw logic in Agnes' wrath. "I do not mean to spite you with my words, Ms.Agnes. I am not a Jawbone man, and I am not a Finch one, either. I am an Arelgren, so I see the best in the hearts of others."
"I don't believe that Hopkin means for the opposite of benefit. He is a good book," Lettie thoughtfully added, voice lowered. "And while I...while I am not a lady to go back on her word, I am a friend of humility. It's true that what he suggests may not be best for all."
"I only say this because I am an outsider. That is all."
It didn't matter to her if Hopkin would find her statements traitorous, but as Dorian Arelgren's plague, Lettie had had firsthand experience of someone else trying to offer her a perceived solution when it wasn't something that she would have preferred. Agnes was in a similar situation, and Hopkin wasn't in one where he could readily relate. Lettie, ironically, wasn't in one where she could, either.
Silence filled the room until Agnes was again, the one to break it.
She'd gone to answer the knocking at the door, and Marian, gone to answer her own insecurities. While Lettie normally felt a synthesis of pity and admiration for Marian, she didn't know how to articulate her feelings for her now, after Agnes had finished with her own tirade. Frankly, Lettie wasn't comfortable acknowledging that she, too, had acted like Dorian in her thoughtlessness during the prior conversation. She prayed that such things would not be repeated.
However, Lettie shared Hopkin's curiosity in identifying the newcomer, and squinted when the tinny book plague gave a cry of "Tadhg O'Neill!" while she herself remained in hiding.
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