« she wants to live freely,
and you want to
keep her in a cage,
but it takes more
than a cage to confine
a woman with that
much passion. »
iambrillyant (via wordsnquotes)
Having noticed that Miss. Kimbleton had fallen asleep, Dundy as a gentleman draped his coat over her as a blanket and bade her a fond goodnight. However, he also possessed a mischievous inclination to give her cat whiskers like a cheetah's and a little cheetah nose, courtesy of the pen someone had left altogether too close to him.
Grab a marker and write something on my muse! ( Anywhere over my muse’s body. ) || accepting!
Between the two ships, HMS Erebus was certainly the more ‘fun’ of the two. From its ambiance and exquisite craftsmanship to the delightful company of its officers. Priscilla had forgotten just when she had dozed off in all the merriment from staying up well past her usual sleeping hour. With a yawn she arose, holding the jack over her shoulders in gratitude for the extra layer to not catch a chill.
“What time is it…?” She inquired drowsily, blearily staring confused at the other crew member’s quickly hushed snickers from but once glance at her. “What’s so funny?”
When someone finally had the heart to pity her by handing a mirror, a high-pitched shriek echoed across the deck. Along with an exclamation of, “Who’s bright idea was this?!” as she frantically tried wiping it off.
Fortunately, she was at least a good sport about it when the initial embarrassed shock dissolved. She even shared a memory when as children her cousin Emmett once did the something similar.
But when she did find out who was the culprit, oh she would be sure to give him a taste of his own medicine!
At first, she muses to his protest, “Well, I suppose you’re right~ probably we shouldn’t all the time literally, then we wouldn’t have any time for business or reading or supper or piano practice…”
Clouds slowly formed across the bright sun as she tilted her head seeing his demeanor change. Before she could ask ‘What’s wrong?’ his words only made her more perplexed… and then, came the shock of an ocean wave crashing into her. The light was completely veiled now as she looked away, so confused and dreading if this was the real reason for their rendezvous.
“But why should that matter? – Especially when we make each so other happy… I’m happier around you than anyplace in the world! - Is that not enough…?” She pouted returning a searching gaze and a long period of awkward silence. She found someone who she could without hesitation call what she earnestly felt to be her soulmate.
“That’s not fair!”
Priscilla snapped back in protest with a furrowed brow, sucking in a deep breath afterward. She didn’t know whether to be more grieved of the thought of losing the love of her life or angry for him even remotely suggesting they part ways, so it somehow merged together into a whining tantrum. “I don’t care about fancy titles and fancy houses. I want to marry for love! Especially when I’ve already found that love standing here, right in front of me!“
That he’d expected this reaction only strengthened his resolve. She didn’t care about anything but love, so he had to. How he hated his self-appointed role sometimes… if successful he would be killing the best chance of happiness he’d glimpsed in his life, and it would be by a stab in the back. Nothing so honorable as a quick beheading.
“It shouldn’t.” The pain in his voice was nearly palpable and threatened to keep him from continuing. “But that’s not how it works.” Love wasn’t a currency accepted by most bankers. If it were they’d have no worries at all. He stood firm in the face of her whirlwind flare of temper. Something she said brought color to his cheeks, even though his implications were essentially the same. Yet, to hear her say it…
“Are you proposing?” Humorous, but no joke. The question was closely related to the topic at hand; both addressed a future less immediate than weeks or even months. Javert waited anxiously, breath caught in his throat.
It had to take the bluntness of his question to realize the weight of what she just said. Priscilla blinked, as all her fiery irritation and pain imploded as quickly as it sparked. She went still as she let out a soft gasp. Bright as a red rose her face flushed hot in embarrassment as she stared at Javert wide-eyed.
Nice work, Priscilla, now you’ve gone and done it!
“I —” Mouth ajar, she stammered trying to find words, but was suddenly tongue-tied. Oh no. This wasn’t protocol or what happened in novels! That end-all question was supposed to come from him! When just moments before she thought was to be a death-blow to both of them now suddenly took the most unexpected turn.
No point running away, as much as she wanted to hide in some shell. But she could neither move nor take her eyes off him. Faced with reality where she could only own up to her own words, she gave way to an awkward smile. Outburst as it was delivered, it was genuine. After a hard swallow, finally, she sheepishly spoke,
“I, I never knew anyone so kind and- strong, and - sensible… who loves and in all truth accepts me for all that I am… even when I’m animated, – and loud, and excitable —! — … So … Y-yes? I am?”
“Basilius”, Priscilla’s champion
[v: the Baroness]
name: Basilius (Latin for: Kinglike)
nicknames: Basil
breed: Thoroughbred Stallion, with some Hanoverian ancestry
height: 16.4 hands
color: dark bay
distinctive markings: white star and snip, white pastern above back-left hoof
temperament: hot-blooded, free-spirited, big gaits and jumps big
vices: nips, escapes paddock from jumping over the fence, nibbles at Priscilla’s pockets looking for treats
backstory: When Baron Staunton and Baroness Priscilla were visiting one of England’s finest horse breeding farms to select a new stallion to add to their collection of racehorses. Once Edmund found one to his liking, that was when Priscilla noticed the handsome stallion galloping in another open paddock, leaping over imaginary obstacles. She was mesmerized by its gate and speed, and when examining the magnificent creature she noticed amidst such a fiery temperament, it had a certain softness in its regal gaze.
After a brief objection from her husband stating they were only looking for one horse and not wanting her to select one for herself that would be too unpredictable for her leisure. Priscilla heard none of it and said it was instead for her next steeplechase rematch with him. Eager for that rematch, Edmund agreed.
But that was not her only reason. With a fruitless marriage and a husband’s wandering eye, Priscilla dedicated every minute of her free time to care for Basilius, who she eventually finds to be a faithful companion. He wasn’t easy to train and after long tiresome months, Basilius was finally ready to face Edmund’s Thoroughbred gelding Icarus. And Priscilla and Basilius won. And when they rematched again, they won yet again.
It wasn’t long before Priscilla realized she had a champion in Basilius once she started competing against neighbor’s horses. And she entered Basilius into other steeplechase competitions. But after seeing one of the Jockey’s harsh treatment of Basilius for placing nearly last for refusing a jump, Priscilla fired the rider and forbid anyone else from competing on the stallion outside of herself. And so Priscilla entered herself into the tournaments. Nearly scandalous for a Baroness to compete, but once she came out triumphantly in second place at one of their shows, the hecklers had to bite their tongues.
imagine that you’ve been stood up by your douche of a boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you’re ready to order but you keep asking for more time hoping that he’s just late. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation but as you decide to just get up and leave, this boy you’ve never seen sits down explaining loudly “sorry i’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now.” and he quietly adds, “i’m —–. just go with it, yeah? whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.” and so you do go with it because he’s being sweet and trying to save you (and plus he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen) and as you’re leaving the restaurant after the best non-planned date ever, he asks you out for real this time.
I think I’m going to loosely split v: the Baroness into three “acts”:
ACT 1. Priscilla & Edmund Staunton are married, and after the shortly after passing of Edmund’s father, they become Baron & Baroness of [insert location here]. After a few years of what seems to be a happy marriage, Priscilla accidentally discovers Edmund’s more sinister underground work of complicated heists and unwillingly becomes a part of it. It all goes downhill from there. To distract herself, Priscilla becomes a patroness of the arts and dedicates her time to Basilius, her racehorse champion, which she also competes in steeplechase races with.
ACT 2. Edmund dies. Priscilla - now more corrupted from Edmund than she wishes to confess - is left in moral shambles, lost in a grey mausoleum of Edmund’s lies. Priscilla continues her late husband’s work because she’s thoroughly addicted to adrenaline thrills, and baffling Scotland Yard for being the least suspecting guilty party.
ACT 3. Scotland Yard begins to get too close to comfort after one of Edmund’s former underlings are arrested, so Baroness Priscilla flees to Paris, France. There she meets Paris’ greatest detectives: Inspector Aristide Javert. While they stand morally as enemies, personably they become mutual friends. But Priscilla’s kleptomania is hardly satisfied, so she targets museums and archeological artifacts when it isn’t the usual pick-pockets of the rich and famous at lavish balls. But more conflicted in her conscious now more than ever, she begins a tendency of returning that which was stolen… right back to Javert’s police headquarters. She remains an elusive mystery, ensuring she is two steps ahead of the game. All the while, as Javert continues to chase at her heels, she finds herself chasing something else which she is so inexplicably drawn to… his heart.
Hers was the childhood, the youthful abandon he’d never allowed himself to have. All he could do was trail along dazed in her wake, in awe just a little bit and certainly in admiration. She was beautiful in her simplicity, the open nature of her joy. Javert followed her through the door, replacing his hat as was custom. It minimized the need to squint against the sun, which he’d observed in others as unattractive.
“Well, it is rare enough,” he said wryly as he glanced up at the sky. “We should take advantage, if—” He stopped. Obviously he was the only question here and even that was no question, when faced with her desire. In willing surrender Javert offered up his arm for her to take. “I don’t see why not. Your uncle is finished with me for the day, now you can take your turn.”
Oh my glob, as if v: The Baroness didn’t give me enough feels of how poignant it is… I just realized POOR EMMETT - I CAN’T IMAGINE WHAT HE MUST BE GOING THROUGH TO LITERALLY WITNESS HIS DEAR COUSIN PRIS CHANGE BEFORE HIS EYES SINCE MARRYING EDMUND. HE CAN ONLY BE HAPPY FOR HER SO MUCH FOR HOW PROMINENT SHE IS IN SOCIETY AS BARONESS, BUT KNOWING HOW THE SWEET LITTLE GIRL HE GREW UP WITH BECAME CURRUPTED BY A MAN WHO HE TIME AND TIME OBJECTED TO BUT WAS FORCED TO BE SILENCED ONCE THEIR OTHER RELATIVES APPROVED EDMUND’S MARRIAGE PROPOSAL.
AND IF HE EVER GETS WIND OF EDMUND’S UNDERGROUND DIRTY WORK AND PRIS INVOLUNTARILY HAVING TO BECOME EDDIE’S ACCOMPLICE WOULD JUST BREAK EMMETT’S HEART.
