[identity profile] valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com
Tuesday, dawn

It is time.

The grass is damp under my feet, and behind me rises a pale gold sun. I have crossed the river, away from the carnival, to this spot. I can hear the water rushing by, and the breeze in the trees along the river bank, and part of me wonders if this will be my last morning. I am glad that the sun is shining. It seems like a sad thing to die in the rain.

The rapiers have been entrusted to Mab's care. I sent her and Lucien a note of the time and place of the duel after I had word from Lysander. Mab will, I know, ensure that everything is done properly. And I think that, should I fall, she will take care of Lysander. Make no mistake - I will not have him take Hermia, and if I can't stop him, I am certain that someone else will. Had he not challenged me to a duel, then perhaps matters would have been settled in a different way. But duel or no duel, he would have had to die.

I think the people in this town don't quite understand why Lysander is a threat. I think some of them think he could just be run out of town. But I understand something of the culture he grew up in, from what Hermia has told me and from what I've seen of other places that shared similar sentiments toward women, and he would come back. He would come back with others to support him, I think, and who knows what would happen then? No; he needs to die here in Excolo, and never be able to take word back to Athens. The most important thing I can ever do is make sure Hermia is safe.

And then there is my honour. I know many people see that as a selfish reason, a product of pride, a stupid bullish insistence on doing things in an archaic way, and that if I die today, it's a poor thing to have died for. But without honour, what am I? I have done many bad things in my life, but I have, I think, kept to my own notion of honour where it matters. Honour isn't just reputation; it's a man's soul, and I'd as soon lose my honour as sell my soul to the Tower.

I have no idea what happens to my soul when I die. But I do know that if I die, I want things to be as easy for Hermia as possible, so I have spent the last few days quietly making sure everything is in order. I have made a will; a copy is with Toby Hutchinson at the council. He asked why I suddenly made one, and I made up some excuse or other. I've left everything to Hermia, except for some cash gifts for my staff. And my small collection of children's books are to go to Fiona. I think she would like them.

Hermia and I spent the night together last night; I didn't go back to work after I fetched the glasses from the tavern. We were very quiet. I think the way we made love is the way people do when one of the pair is about to go to war. Her fingers clung to my shoulders as if she would stop me from falling. Oh, my dearest and best, if there is anything that will save me, it is you. But then, in that regard I am already saved, and if this ends now - well. Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.

[OPEN to the relevant parties.]
[identity profile] valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com
Tuesday, dawn

It is time.

The grass is damp under my feet, and behind me rises a pale gold sun. I have crossed the river, away from the carnival, to this spot. I can hear the water rushing by, and the breeze in the trees along the river bank, and part of me wonders if this will be my last morning. I am glad that the sun is shining. It seems like a sad thing to die in the rain.

The rapiers have been entrusted to Mab's care. I sent her and Lucien a note of the time and place of the duel after I had word from Lysander. Mab will, I know, ensure that everything is done properly. And I think that, should I fall, she will take care of Lysander. Make no mistake - I will not have him take Hermia, and if I can't stop him, I am certain that someone else will. Had he not challenged me to a duel, then perhaps matters would have been settled in a different way. But duel or no duel, he would have had to die.

I think the people in this town don't quite understand why Lysander is a threat. I think some of them think he could just be run out of town. But I understand something of the culture he grew up in, from what Hermia has told me and from what I've seen of other places that shared similar sentiments toward women, and he would come back. He would come back with others to support him, I think, and who knows what would happen then? No; he needs to die here in Excolo, and never be able to take word back to Athens. The most important thing I can ever do is make sure Hermia is safe.

And then there is my honour. I know many people see that as a selfish reason, a product of pride, a stupid bullish insistence on doing things in an archaic way, and that if I die today, it's a poor thing to have died for. But without honour, what am I? I have done many bad things in my life, but I have, I think, kept to my own notion of honour where it matters. Honour isn't just reputation; it's a man's soul, and I'd as soon lose my honour as sell my soul to the Tower.

I have no idea what happens to my soul when I die. But I do know that if I die, I want things to be as easy for Hermia as possible, so I have spent the last few days quietly making sure everything is in order. I have made a will; a copy is with Toby Hutchinson at the council. He asked why I suddenly made one, and I made up some excuse or other. I've left everything to Hermia, except for some cash gifts for my staff. And my small collection of children's books are to go to Fiona. I think she would like them.

Hermia and I spent the night together last night; I didn't go back to work after I fetched the glasses from the tavern. We were very quiet. I think the way we made love is the way people do when one of the pair is about to go to war. Her fingers clung to my shoulders as if she would stop me from falling. Oh, my dearest and best, if there is anything that will save me, it is you. But then, in that regard I am already saved, and if this ends now - well. Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.

[OPEN to the relevant parties.]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Evening of Thursday, September 10, Day 102
Garden behind the Whitechapel Inn

My twenty-third birthday.

Dear Valmont, he is trying so very hard to make this a happy day for me! Waking with a kiss (even though I could hardly sleep last night), flowers on the breakfast table. And telling me that I should take the day off to luxuriate, which was wonderfully tempting, but I had to go back to the library. I did not want to feel that I was being kept away, for if I were, then Lysander would be winning. And I had to make sure that the library would still feel tranquil to me after yesterday - I don't want to lose that peaceful place I have found there.

When I walked in and saw the chaos that Lydia had made, I laughed until I cried. Or possibly the reverse - it was rather hard to tell at the time. And then we straightened the books up, and when I was done, I turned around to find a little book of poetry that had not been there before on the front desk, tied with a bow, and my smile came back.

And then Valmont came to walk me home, and we have kept happily busy and distracted with setting up the party. Through some unspoken pact, we have not mentioned Lysander all day. The thought of what happened yesterday still makes me feel as if I am falling...but I will not fall,and I will not let it ruin today, for today is about my new life and all of the people who belong to it. Valmont. My new friends. And...well, some of those coming are 'people' only in a rather loose sense of the term. But I would not want to risk bringing ill fortune down on myself by not inviting my people's gods! And there's Chester as well, who I suppose doesn't exactly count as a person either. Ah, Excolo guest lists. There's something comforting in that very oddness, though. People, creatures, gods - they are all part of Excolo and my new life. My new year.

The lanterns dance in the trees; the light of the setting sun glints off of the wine bottles and glasses, and I wait in the garden, feeling a little bit of peace. Let today be free of unhappiness, please! Let me be safe in the garden on my own day...

[Open to party guests]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Evening of Thursday, September 10, Day 102
Garden behind the Whitechapel Inn

My twenty-third birthday.

Dear Valmont, he is trying so very hard to make this a happy day for me! Waking with a kiss (even though I could hardly sleep last night), flowers on the breakfast table. And telling me that I should take the day off to luxuriate, which was wonderfully tempting, but I had to go back to the library. I did not want to feel that I was being kept away, for if I were, then Lysander would be winning. And I had to make sure that the library would still feel tranquil to me after yesterday - I don't want to lose that peaceful place I have found there.

When I walked in and saw the chaos that Lydia had made, I laughed until I cried. Or possibly the reverse - it was rather hard to tell at the time. And then we straightened the books up, and when I was done, I turned around to find a little book of poetry that had not been there before on the front desk, tied with a bow, and my smile came back.

And then Valmont came to walk me home, and we have kept happily busy and distracted with setting up the party. Through some unspoken pact, we have not mentioned Lysander all day. The thought of what happened yesterday still makes me feel as if I am falling...but I will not fall,and I will not let it ruin today, for today is about my new life and all of the people who belong to it. Valmont. My new friends. And...well, some of those coming are 'people' only in a rather loose sense of the term. But I would not want to risk bringing ill fortune down on myself by not inviting my people's gods! And there's Chester as well, who I suppose doesn't exactly count as a person either. Ah, Excolo guest lists. There's something comforting in that very oddness, though. People, creatures, gods - they are all part of Excolo and my new life. My new year.

The lanterns dance in the trees; the light of the setting sun glints off of the wine bottles and glasses, and I wait in the garden, feeling a little bit of peace. Let today be free of unhappiness, please! Let me be safe in the garden on my own day...

[Open to party guests]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Wednesday, September 9, Day 101
The Library


I felt wonderfully serene after leaving the abbey on Sunday, and the feeling has carried over into the rest of the week, giving a cheerful glow to everything, even the buzz of preparations for my birthday party. The stack of invitations surprised me with its height - do I really know that many people in Excolo? That many who could count as friends? I suppose I do. And so that tall stack made me smile when I dropped it off at the post office.

The entire town seems to be in a festive mood this week, what with the school picnic. I was sorry that I couldn't go, but the few people who weren't attending the picnic seem to have decided to set up camp in the library all yesterday afternoon, so I had to stay at work. Valmont brought me some cookies that his Fiona made, sugary sparkly things that couldn't be mistaken for anyone's work but hers. I'm glad that I've finally gotten to meet her - she's a dear little thing. Part of me can't help wondering if Valmont sees his lost sister Marie in her. Or if he sees what Marie might have been, if they had had a better life. I haven't the heart to ask him, though; I never want to call up such sad memories.

But today, all is light and sun. The windows of the library are open to catch the afternoon sun - and to let out the dust, for today I am finally tackling that last set of books near the wall. Forgotten old things that I doubt even Lydia remembers are there, in languages that I can't even begin to decipher. There's something cheering about organizing them, though, something reassuring about being able to set in order something that I can't understand. I even find myself humming as I brush my dusty hands off on my skirt and bend down to work on the bottom shelf.

[open to Lysander]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Wednesday, September 9, Day 101
The Library


I felt wonderfully serene after leaving the abbey on Sunday, and the feeling has carried over into the rest of the week, giving a cheerful glow to everything, even the buzz of preparations for my birthday party. The stack of invitations surprised me with its height - do I really know that many people in Excolo? That many who could count as friends? I suppose I do. And so that tall stack made me smile when I dropped it off at the post office.

The entire town seems to be in a festive mood this week, what with the school picnic. I was sorry that I couldn't go, but the few people who weren't attending the picnic seem to have decided to set up camp in the library all yesterday afternoon, so I had to stay at work. Valmont brought me some cookies that his Fiona made, sugary sparkly things that couldn't be mistaken for anyone's work but hers. I'm glad that I've finally gotten to meet her - she's a dear little thing. Part of me can't help wondering if Valmont sees his lost sister Marie in her. Or if he sees what Marie might have been, if they had had a better life. I haven't the heart to ask him, though; I never want to call up such sad memories.

But today, all is light and sun. The windows of the library are open to catch the afternoon sun - and to let out the dust, for today I am finally tackling that last set of books near the wall. Forgotten old things that I doubt even Lydia remembers are there, in languages that I can't even begin to decipher. There's something cheering about organizing them, though, something reassuring about being able to set in order something that I can't understand. I even find myself humming as I brush my dusty hands off on my skirt and bend down to work on the bottom shelf.

[open to Lysander]
[identity profile] lysander-vassos.livejournal.com
Monday, September 7th
Day 99
Afternoon


After the ever so touching scene I witnessed in the garden, I didn’t leave right away. I needed to consider what exactly to do. I want to kill them both of course that would be the easiest and would sure as hell make me feel better. Would be easy enough to do it too, kill the lovers as they sleep in their bed. But I’d rather she suffer a bit first and I’ll still give her the chance to make the right decision. I’ll even help her make it.

So when I woke today, the first thing I decided to do was to find out where the law was in this wretched little town. Surely they have some form of law, albeit archaic I’m sure, there must be something. Packing my bags I check out of the inn, deciding to seek a more suitable and private residence. I’m sure the honorable Mr. Laclos won’t be pleased once I’m done today, but I prefer to do things on my terms and so we shall.

Didn’t take much asking around for me to find a temporary apartment, conveniently situated right behind the Inn no less. I paid what the crook of a landlord wanted and dropped off my bags then headed for what I was told is the sheriff’s office. As I walk up I see a boy sitting on the porch, smoking, must be an apprentice of some sort. Steeping up on to the porch, I give him a pleasant smile and a nod, “Pardon me lad, is the sheriff in? I need to speak with him.”

[OPEN TO LIAM] [CLOSED]
[identity profile] lysander-vassos.livejournal.com
Monday, September 7th
Day 99
Afternoon


After the ever so touching scene I witnessed in the garden, I didn’t leave right away. I needed to consider what exactly to do. I want to kill them both of course that would be the easiest and would sure as hell make me feel better. Would be easy enough to do it too, kill the lovers as they sleep in their bed. But I’d rather she suffer a bit first and I’ll still give her the chance to make the right decision. I’ll even help her make it.

So when I woke today, the first thing I decided to do was to find out where the law was in this wretched little town. Surely they have some form of law, albeit archaic I’m sure, there must be something. Packing my bags I check out of the inn, deciding to seek a more suitable and private residence. I’m sure the honorable Mr. Laclos won’t be pleased once I’m done today, but I prefer to do things on my terms and so we shall.

Didn’t take much asking around for me to find a temporary apartment, conveniently situated right behind the Inn no less. I paid what the crook of a landlord wanted and dropped off my bags then headed for what I was told is the sheriff’s office. As I walk up I see a boy sitting on the porch, smoking, must be an apprentice of some sort. Steeping up on to the porch, I give him a pleasant smile and a nod, “Pardon me lad, is the sheriff in? I need to speak with him.”

[OPEN TO LIAM] [CLOSED]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Saturday, September 5, Day 97
Early afternoon
Garden behind the Whitechapel Inn


Not a soul came into the library this morning, and I wasn't at all able to keep my mind on my own work, so I decided to close up at lunchtime. A quick stop by the Apothecary to tell Glass not to expect me for the walk home in the evening - and then, on a whim, I went to the greenhouse. Nohte and her shop are pleasant additions to the town - and I like her for herself, of course! - so I want to make sure that she feels welcome here. And that she has people she feels she can trust if - no, when - the oddities of Excolo start to strike her.

Also, I feel as if I owe Valmont a new basil plant to make up for the dozens I've shredded in my protection spells.

Nohte's assortment of herbs is quite impressive, and I have no trouble finding what I'm looking for, but I was astonished to see that she has tiny azalea plants, too! They bloom in spring, I know that, but Nohte's have brilliant pink little flowers all over them, even in September. They're so surprising and lovely - and among the better plants for protective wards - that I have to get one for Valmont.

Rainclouds are gathering heavily by the time I make my way down the dear familiar path that leads around the back of the inn to the garden. Oh dear, perhaps I should have kept the library open? It's always more busy on a rainy day...but no, it's done now, and my arms are full of plants. "Valmont?" I call, as I juggle the herb-pot and the neat little canvas-covered bulb of the azalea cutting. He should be up by this point, even if Fridays are late nights for him. I finally free one hand enough to undo the latch, push the gate open with my hip, and go into the garden.

[Open to Valmont first, then others]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Saturday, September 5, Day 97
Early afternoon
Garden behind the Whitechapel Inn


Not a soul came into the library this morning, and I wasn't at all able to keep my mind on my own work, so I decided to close up at lunchtime. A quick stop by the Apothecary to tell Glass not to expect me for the walk home in the evening - and then, on a whim, I went to the greenhouse. Nohte and her shop are pleasant additions to the town - and I like her for herself, of course! - so I want to make sure that she feels welcome here. And that she has people she feels she can trust if - no, when - the oddities of Excolo start to strike her.

Also, I feel as if I owe Valmont a new basil plant to make up for the dozens I've shredded in my protection spells.

Nohte's assortment of herbs is quite impressive, and I have no trouble finding what I'm looking for, but I was astonished to see that she has tiny azalea plants, too! They bloom in spring, I know that, but Nohte's have brilliant pink little flowers all over them, even in September. They're so surprising and lovely - and among the better plants for protective wards - that I have to get one for Valmont.

Rainclouds are gathering heavily by the time I make my way down the dear familiar path that leads around the back of the inn to the garden. Oh dear, perhaps I should have kept the library open? It's always more busy on a rainy day...but no, it's done now, and my arms are full of plants. "Valmont?" I call, as I juggle the herb-pot and the neat little canvas-covered bulb of the azalea cutting. He should be up by this point, even if Fridays are late nights for him. I finally free one hand enough to undo the latch, push the gate open with my hip, and go into the garden.

[Open to Valmont first, then others]
[identity profile] jilted-man.livejournal.com

Friday, September 4th

Day 96

Night
 

Brushing dust from my coat, I sigh and shake my head as I look up at the building that passes for an “Inn” in this town.  It is a sad testament that the whore house appears to be the more refined of the two, but I’ve lodged in worse during my time on the road I suppose, and I’m fucking tired. Tired of traveling, tired of having to deal with what passes for civilization the farther away from home I get and tired of looking. But I know I’ll never stop, not until I’ve found what’s mine.
 

 So I resign myself to no room service or servants for yet another few nights, cursing her name under my breath as I walk in to see what cruel joke the gods have decided to play on me today. The inside looks about like I would expect it to, roughnecks, rednecks and peasants scattered about the room, drinking themselves into oblivion with the occasional slurred swear word being bellowed. Unlike the last town I stopped in, at least most of these people seem to have the majority of their teeth, that’s a plus.
 

 Turning slightly I notice a man sitting at the desk with his feet propped up, reading a book. For a moment I wonder if perhaps I should have a couple of drinks before checking in and seeing the room, if its anything like the rest of this place I may need them.  Fuck it, I just keep reminding myself I’ve seen far worse and put on a smile as I approach the desk.  He doesn’t look up right away so I make a noise as if to clear my throat and then my frozen smile turns to a genuine one as I note the look of intelligence in his eyes, thank the gods. Maybe this place won’t turn out to be a total loss after all. “Hello, I just arrived in town and I was told you might have a room available for rent?” I ask, bending to set my bags down on the floor, and then thinking the better of it, I set them on the desk instead.
 

 [open to Valmont]  [CLOSED]

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