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Post by Miss Jack on Apr 29, 2008 1:30:09 GMT -5
"Ha! Well, well. Only one pair behind you now, Clementine."
He waited a moment before answering, half his face hidden behind his fan of cards. He glanced at her carefully over the top of his cards. An unbidden paranoia twisted in his stomach. Something unexplainable was going on, and he had the sneaking suspicion that it was already too late to stop whatever it was. Miss Eleanore Peep wasn't like everybody else, he decided. There was something calming about her, she was easy to talk to.
Why did it matter so much? She wasn't that special, she'd said so herself. Just some girl that tended sheep. With numbers and neon colors.
He liked her.
There, he admitted it.
He would make a hundred daisy chains if she asked, and he probably wouldn't even mind. Definitely too late to stop whatever it was. He conveyed all this with a simple shrug. "I guess. Don't go picking out best friend bracelets or anything."
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Post by Princess Katie on Apr 29, 2008 20:19:58 GMT -5
Nellie’s face visibly brightened as he admitted he did, in fact, like her. She wasn’t smug (“Ha ha you liiikeee me”), just terribly excited. Friendship bracelets! “That. Is. A. Fan. Tast. Ic. Idear!” What better way to claim someone as a friend than slapping a friendship bracelet on them? “I’ll pick us up some when I goes to the Palace. The mall. Notcher ‘ouse, obviously.” It was obvious that she was sold on this bracelet idea by the gleam in her eye and stubborn tilt of her chin. Really, Alexander brought that upon himself.
The matter being settled, Nellie went back onto the Go Fish warpath. “Ehm, you got any fives?”
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Post by Miss Jack on May 3, 2008 23:20:31 GMT -5
Alexander cringed. "Ehr... yeah. If you forget though, don't worry about it." He could already picture the little teddy bear charm sparkling off his wrist with the word 'Best' embedded in its stomach with sparkles. And even though he would hate it, he would feel bad for not wearing it; he thought anyway, he was new to this liking people thing.
He scanned his hand and grinned. "Go Fish. So, what? If your dad picks out a really good husband are you going to get married?"
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Post by Princess Katie on May 4, 2008 0:15:25 GMT -5
Obviously a rather taken aback, Nellie stared at Alexander as if he had just suggested Nellie sit down with a copy of Wuthering Heights (which means, surprised and confused, with a big helping of ‘are you stupid’ thrown in). “Of course? If my father find someone ‘e wants me t’ marry, then I ’ave to. ‘Till I’m married, I’m my father’s property, y’know?” She drew cards as she spoke rather casually about her being property. She felt no huge injustice there, it was what she was raised on. Girls belonged to their fathers until they were adults and married, at which time they belonged to their husbands. It was as God intended. The possibility that Nellie would be married off to some 30+ year old man (probably a miller or non-rival farmer) and get pregnant up before her 17th birthday was very high.
“It’s not like I really ‘ave a choice. If my father finds someone, pays me dowry, an’ sets erythin’ up, I won’t be involved in any of the process. ‘S been the same way wiff all me cousins. If the ‘eads of the family says their girls is getting’ hitched, then tha’s ‘ow it is.” Nellie put down her pair of fives, and blinked at Alexander over her cards, looking rather amazed, “In your family, you could just say ‘no fanks’ t’ somefin your father tells ya t’ do?”
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 0:42:16 GMT -5
He stared at her, long and hard, and then burst into a fit of laughter. It was several seconds before he could catch his breath enough to talk. "If--" Burst of laughter. "--only." His laughs died into faintly amused chuckles and he sighed. "If I said 'no thanks' before doing something my parents, particularly my father, didn't want me to do, he'd thank Morpheus that I'd learned manners."
He held up a hand. "It's not always a good thing, bad consequences and such, but certainly they'd never say we had to get married or we didn't. Clementine, what if you hate your husband? Not that I want to check, but I doubt your backside is branded with your father's name. The Isle of Morpheus is nothing if not a free realm. You can do what you want."
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Post by Princess Katie on May 4, 2008 1:21:39 GMT -5
At first, she was a rather offended at the laughter, but when she realized it was more of a ‘laughing-at-the-image-in-his-mind’ versus a ‘laughing-at-her’ type thing, she calmed down a good bit, but retained a pout. “Maybe you can do whatcha want. You’re the Prince ‘n’ all. Not to mention, you’re a boy. Things is different fer sheep girls I guess.” Nellie fiddled with her cards. This challenging of the ideals she was accustomed to was uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to say something, but paused as she heard a familiar voice calling her from the direction of the farm house, “Eleanor Clementine, this is the last time I call you, girl!”
Nellie frowned. “My Mum,” she said with a sigh. She collected up the cards and stowed them in her apron, dejectedly. “You win.” She pulled her hat on with decided irritation and began running up the hill to her house. Halfway up, she paused to call back to him, “Your ‘Isle of Morpheus’ may be a free realm, Alexander, but this here is Dreamland, no matter what it says on the map,” before darting out of sight.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 1:36:39 GMT -5
Alexander watched her go, feeling the empty weight of the forced victory. Little Miss Sheep Girl was right. It was still Dreamland, and she was very much a Dream. And he wasn't the Prince of the Isle of Morpheus. He was the Prince of Nightmares. He hopped off the wall, tugging his flower crown loose and letting it drop from his fingers to the ground.
~*~*~LATE THAT NIGHT~*~*~
He'd never been good with stereotypes, with set rules outlining the way 'things were supposed to be'. He slipped along the shadows of night with ease. Dreamland or not, darkness was darkness, and this was his element. He knew which house was hers, but as he approached the cozy, oversized cottage, he realized he wouldn't have the first clue which room she was in.
It took a good deal of exploring, and it wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience. Intentionally or not, Sheep Girl had painted a pretty formidable picture of the inafamous Mr. Peep and Alexander expected his new friend's father to appear around every corner and bash him over the head with a giant caramel-covered apple.
Luckily, it was one of the first rooms he tried that contained the sleeping form of Miss Eleanor Peep. He tip-toed into the room as quietly as possible. He crept to the bed and glanced down at her face, relaxed in sleep. It was cliche to say that people looked more innocent in their sleep, but it was true. Armand, for example, his face always troubled and dark, looked like an entirely different person in sleep. But Sheep Girl....Sheep Girl looked exactly the same as she ever did.
He placed a hand gently over her mouth, in case she was the kind of Dream to make noises when she was abruptly awakened in the middle of the night, and nudged her shoulder. "Hey," he whispered, poking her again. "Cleeeementiiiiiine...."
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Post by Princess Katie on May 4, 2008 2:00:05 GMT -5
She grumbled faintly as she was poked in the shoulder, smooshed her eyes tighter closed, and made to turn over. But the hand covering her mouth prevented her from doing so. Wait, hand?!
Nellie’s big blue eyes popped open and she gasped (well, she tried, at least). Once her eyes adjusted to the dark and she realized who it was, she ceased her flailing. She was irritated and rather frightened, but not nearly as upset as someone who has just been awoken by someone who broke into her house should be. She placed her little pale hand over her quickly-beating heart.
“Alexander? What in the name of God are y’doin in me room?” She whispered urgently, even harder to understand than normal, since her speech was still muffled. “Can you get yer ‘and off me mouf please?”
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 2:08:50 GMT -5
"Sorry," he whispered in his predictably unapologetic way, removing his hand. His eyes seemed to pulse with his excitement, like a thriving flame. They almost glowed in the darkness of Nellie's small room. "Feel like breaking some rules?"
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Post by Princess Katie on May 4, 2008 2:30:04 GMT -5
Breaking rules? Nellie sat up, drawing her blanket up to her neck, as if to protect herself. Her hair was free of ribbons, flowers and restraints, and it was weird to see how long it was when it wasn’t pinned up. How does one respond to a question like that? “Uh…no, fanks? I’m not even decent. I’m in me nightgown, and if me father comes in an’ find you ‘ere, we’ll both be dead,” She whispered. “An’ ow’d you get in ‘ere anyhow? Innit the door locked?”
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 2:40:33 GMT -5
"It was," he replied, quite pleased with himself. He glanced down at her and lifted a brow. "Your nightgown doesn't even show your collarbone," he said, amused, "and I'd be willing to bet it hits the floor when you stand up."
He'd been expecting her to resist at first, so he wasn't deterred by her rejection. "If we hurry out your window, there will be less chance of old Farmer Joe waking up. And you'll come home and tend the sheep, and the world will continue to turn even though you didn't do as you were supposed to. That's freedom. Come on, Clementine."
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Post by Princess Katie on May 4, 2008 3:11:44 GMT -5
Nellie really, really, really didn’t want to leave the cozyness of her bed and go break rules. But at the same time, Alexander was her friend, and he wanted her to go out and do who-knows-what with him. And he looked so excited. And a taste of freedom sounded amazing.
“Okay,” Nellie conceded, still looking rather worried, “but where are you takin’ me?” When she stood, her nightgown did reach the floor. Anticipating some smart remark from Alexander, she attempter to circumvent it with a dirty look. Nellie was able to look much fiercer when she had been awoken from a deep sleep at Midnight than she did whilst in the middle of a flower field after a good night’s rest.
“Turn around sos I can get dressed real quick-loik,” she demanded, opening her wardrobe. "Do. Not. Peek."
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 3:18:01 GMT -5
He grinned broadly and turned around. "I promise," he said with grave seriousness. "But don't put your hair up. It looks good like that." He sat on her bed, his back to her, fiddling absently with her pillow. "I'm taking you lots of places, but the first stop is for your first, eh... drink."
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Post by Princess Katie on May 4, 2008 3:51:09 GMT -5
“I can’t just go out wiff me ‘air down, that ain’t decent,” Nellie protested, as she shimmied into the purple and black dress Genevieve had given her to wear. Despite her objection, however, she left her hair down.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she whispered, carefully opening up her shutters, wincing at the terrible squeak they made. What a time to have unoiled hinges. “So-rry,” she mouthed, peeking out into the hallway. The coast seemed to be clear.
She locked the door to her room, to be on the safe side, and started to hoist herself out of the window. With one leg swung over, brushing the rose bushes outside her window, she suddenly remembered something. “Hey, Alexander!” she whispered, “grab me tha’ lit’le paper bag on me desk there, will ya?”
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 4:03:19 GMT -5
"Nice," he approved when it was safe for him to turn around. Her face held the same doll-like innocence that it usually did, though it was a bit flushed with the exertion of breaking rules. Her dress wasn't pastel, her hair was vaguely wild and he very suddenly realized that Sheep Girl was attractive.
.....? (there weren't even words)
Only a little bit, he reassured himself, and only if you like that kind of thing. He stuck his head out the window, rolled his eyes in an exaggerated air of annoyance and went back to grab the paper bag. He came back and leapt out the window with my-godfather-trains-the-L.O.S. grace. He handed her the bag. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."
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