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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 20, 2011 3:56:30 GMT
"At least you're not Vaudier when he's drunk. It's much different trying to support a two-hundred pound man than it is to support such a small girl as yourself" he said, making a sad attempt to crack a joke. He held her with a steady grip, much stronger than his bony and gaunt physique hinted at, and led her down the hallways as his mind returned yet again to Noel, as though it could not be avoided.
He found them both shuffling towards the foyer of the building, and subsequently the stairs to his office, and not her ward, nor her cell. Unfortunately, the doctor paid no mind, being entirely ensconced in memories of lovers' trysts long gone to years past. It was not until he heard a small noise from Amelia that he snapped from his daze and found himself face-to-face with the high bannisters of the grand central staircase.
He blinked a few times in surprise and staggered back a bit with an uncharacteristic chuckle "Whoops! Shouldn't be losing myself quite so much these days" he scolded himself with an almost granfatherly quality about him, stooping to check on the tiny, wobbling girl dwarfed by his 6'4" stature.
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Post by Amelia Jacobson on Dec 20, 2011 4:09:56 GMT
Amelia shook her head, a hint of curiosity sparking something in her dark eyes so that she didn't look quite so dead. It hadn't slipped her mind that they were going far in a different direction than where he should be leading her. The part of her that had endured the bitter cold felt that anything was a better alternative to the stone floor of the cell. Being locked up had made her think differently. It was nonsensical.
She smiled at his attempt at humor. "I would imagine so."
Amelia kept her grip on his arm, even though she could feel the shoulder of her shift slip a little. She masked her embarrassment. Instead, she focused on the doctor's expression. "What are you thinking of?"
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 20, 2011 17:01:01 GMT
"I don't normally do this but..." he said with a hesitant pause "would you like to come in for some tea?" He said, gesturing up the grand but deteriorating staircase suggestively.
He glanced up the wooden steps, eyes tracing the faint but detailed scrolling that used to decorate the threadbare and shabby carpet, and he sighed quietly, regaining his grip on the girl when she wobbled softly. He wouldn't have her fall here. For some reason, the mere thought made him shudder. As though she were a porcelain doll who would break at the slightest tap of a careless finger.
His eyes had long since lost their dazed quality, and all that was left now was the focus he required to keep himself alert and aware to make the srike he desired somewhere in his complex heart. Most of him wanted to leave her be, a small part of him wished to steal her away as he had Wynter, and add her to his collection of sorts. But he had a son now. Such frivolity would ruin the boy's conscience if he witnessed it, even at such a young and ignorant age.
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Post by Amelia Jacobson on Dec 20, 2011 17:38:49 GMT
The surprise showed through clearly on Amelia's face this time. After having nothing but kitchen-scrap soup for every meal for so long, tea seemed almost like a foreign thing. But then the memories came back from when she used to enjoy it at home, how her mother had made a big personal event of the art. Mother was one to enjoy dainties and kept the cooks up and running making plenty of cakes to make her father happy. Of all the things that Amelia remembered fondly, besides literature and poetry, it was tea. Nothing that she could yet imagine was more warming.
Amelia leaned on the doctor a bit more to ensure that she wouldn't fall on the way up the stairs. Maybe getting on his good side could have its benefits. She was vaguely aware of the fact that she was less than presentable and that her parents would have been appalled at her lack of formality, not to mention her possibly promiscuous air. No matter. Now was not the time for trifles. She would be as charming as she could in her present condition.
A smile of genuine gratitude lit Amelia's wan face. "As you wish."
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 20, 2011 19:27:45 GMT
"Do come in my dear," he said quietly as he led the young one into his grandiose office, shutting the tall doors behind them quietly. He shrugged his bloody labcoat off and settled it on a pile of equally soiled garments, supposedly his washpile to be sent out to a real launderer and not the shabby asylum cleaner. He kicked off his workboots and slipped on a pair of wing-tips to keep the pristine floor from getting messy.
"Vaudier, tea" he said softly, clapping his hands to send away his ever-vigilant personal chaser to fetch his daily tray of tea. When the man was gone, he turned to his guest. "Should you need a blanket, there's a throw over there you can fetch for yourself. I've got something to attend to now" he said softly, dismissing the girl to sit anywhere at her liesure. "Just do not go behind my desk" he said, retiring for the time being to his bedroom, where a soft whimper or two could be heard.
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Post by Amelia Jacobson on Dec 20, 2011 21:06:53 GMT
Amelia gladly took up the throw as the doctor attended to his son, wondering absently who had given him the child. Was it a wife or the result of a lover within the Asylum? She knew that his affections had swayed toward members of his own sex at one point in time, but talking about such things was not proper. It wouldn't do to pry.
Walking over to stand before a nearby fireplace, Amelia felt some of her color and balance returning to her. It wouldn't do to forget manners and sit without him. She was still a bit unsteady from the blood-loss but the warmth gave her more strength. True, she had never really preferred heat to cold, but that was before she'd learned that cold in the Asylum meant death. Her senses were starting to come round enough to where she became aware that her striped stockings were damp from the hall floor.
Checking that the doctor was still out of sight, Amelia slid out of her stockings to squeeze the moisture out of them and hold them over her hands near the fire in a quick attempt to dry them. When she sensed movement, she hurried to pull them back up to cover her ankles. Unfortunately she only had one on when she heard the doctor's returning footsteps. Amelia swore under her breath, blushing scarlet.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 20, 2011 22:14:31 GMT
"Oh come now" came a low chuckle "We're not even in the bedroom" he said as an offhand remark as he returned to his office bearing a squirming toddler in one arm. He seemed not to pay attention to Amelia as he crossed the wooden floors to a smaller room on the other side of the office. From within that room he called in a rather irritated voice.
"It seems Aeodhan's woekn from his sleep. Just have a seat and relax. I'll be out in ten minutes or so." His tone seemed to convey affection, though these sentiments were meant for the young babe in his arms. He shut the door quietly behind him, leaving a barrier between the doctor and his guest, and glanced around his small music room, searching for his cherished violin. With a triumphant smile, he settled Aeodhan down on a small settee where the child snuggled restlessly into a violet pillow. With great relish, Doctor Bramsfield lifted up his chosen instrument and played a soft song.
"You silly child" he said, his voice a well of kindness compared to the cold exterior he put out for the rest of the world. "Why do you beg for my music?"
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Post by Amelia Jacobson on Dec 21, 2011 3:12:22 GMT
Amelia scurried over to take a seat near the tea table within the office, pulling her remaining stocking back into place. The contrast of the softness of the blanket with the meager material of the shift made Amelia shiver. Yes, this was definitely a nice luxury for someone in her...position. She waited, her mind whizzing in a million different directions as she picked up on the doctor's words to his infant. It was almost adorable the way the seemingly unfeeling man doted upon the child. Although Amelia had been raised into a cult of domesticity, she couldn't quite fathom maternal feelings. Having a child was inconceivable to her.
It was when the soft singing of the violin hit the air that her eyes widened. Amelia forgot the horrible ordeal of the bloodletting. She forgot that she was a prisoner. She forgot the suffering she'd seen and endured. She forgot her own body. Her lips parted slightly and her heart lifted into space.
Amelia felt her eyes become hazy and close of their own accord, pleasant warmth moving up her spine. Music. It made everything fall into place. Even though she couldn't play, Amelia couldn't deny her love. Just the barely audible notes made her whole frame feel alive. The instrument had a rawness that fluttered over her skin and she listened to its quiet, sweet voice. It was no wonder that the doctor played to make the baby feel at peace. A small smile played over Amelia's mouth.
It had been so long since she'd heard any music. This was heaven.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 21, 2011 4:47:09 GMT
A harsh, screeching cord echoed through the walls, followed by a loud clatter and a shriek. With a great panic, Doctor Bramsfield accidentally bumped the music room door open with a bang.
"Oh, dear Gods. This again!" Came an exasperatedly desperate cry as he dropped to his knees, scooping his thrashing son into his arms and attempting to still the seizing boy. His heart thundered and his mind raced. He was well practiced in dealing with these things, and was confident in putting the seizure to an end. But the pain of watching his two-year-old son flail helplessly against his father was too much to bear.
He settled the child onto the lush carpet and held his shoulders firmly to keep his developing neck from thrashing. When the boy kicked up his neck, straining, it seemed, to regain composure, he cupped a hand behind his ginger hair to cushion his head should he buck it back. The Doctor chewed worriedly at the inside of his cheek, grating his jaw as he narrowed his mindset solely to the task at hand. He knew and accepted that he was liable to lapse into endless coils of thought at any given moment, and couldn't risk losing vigilance during this of all events.
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Post by Amelia Jacobson on Dec 21, 2011 7:01:45 GMT
Amelia started up at the noise, jumping to her feet. She considered running in to see if something had happened that needed her assistance. But then she remembered that she was the lunatic here. The last person the doctor would want to help him in a dire situation was her. Still, she couldn't help calling out softly, "Is anything the matter?"
She felt like an idiot for asking. Something was clearly not right, but the doctor wouldn't trust her with his son. She couldn't see what was happening and couldn't guess. Had the boy hurt himself? Wriggled away? But that wasn't likely. What on earth...?
Amelia bit her lip, debating frantically in her mind whether she should sit back down or attempt to help. Her hands clenched. She hated nothing so much as being helpless. Seeing the other girls get tortured without being able to do a thing was bad enough, but this! It didn't matter at the moment that it was a doctor's youngling. It was a baby, and unable to defend itself.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 21, 2011 13:50:16 GMT
"Someday someone will find a cure for Epilepsy" he said with a shudder, letting the fair-skinned boy ride out the seizure. It was no use trying to stop it. This would only hurt the child even more from the trauma of his violent struggle. When Aeodhan was through with his thrashing, Doctor Bramsfield once again picked his son up and cradled him tenderly against his chest.
"When. Is momma coming back?" the green-eyed boy whined, spine still shuddering with the force of that which had only just passed his nervous system.
"She's coming back someday" The Doctor said softly, crossing through his office foyer once again with the mumbling boy, "She'll be back one day soon. I promise." He said in a hushed whisper, stroking his chubby cheek which would one day come to mirror his father's square and slender jaw.
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Post by Amelia Jacobson on Dec 21, 2011 18:43:20 GMT
Amelia slowly returned to her seat. Epilepsy... That was a serious matter indeed. Poor thing. The doctor certainly had his hands full. Not that it gave him an excuse to treat some of the inmates the way he did, but Amelia could sympathize with some of his plight. Whatever his life had been, it was clear that it had not been easy.
She sat, still hearing the little boy's cries in her ears, and waited for the doctor to return when everything was settled.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 21, 2011 19:28:11 GMT
"Are you okay, now?" He asked with a soft sentiment, settling the sleepy boy in his bed with a gentle kiss to the forehead, humming a song to him affectionately until Aeodhan closed his wide and innocent eyes. With a great flourish, maybe solely to amuse his child, he drew the blankets over the boy like a villain weilding his great cape or cloak.
"Goodnight, papa" Aeodhan whispered, riding through the last sad shudders that wore his seizure out before snuggling into the warm sheets, unaware of the outside world or of who he really heard screeching in the night down the halls. As far as the toddler was concerned, the whole massive institution was a giant house he would someday be allowed to explore and conquer.
"Goodnight my sweet" Edward said, cupping his cheek for one brief moment before closing the curtains around Aeodhan's bed to share privacy to his inside world, and Edward's outer world. He sighed quietly with exasperation and stood from his stoop beside the bed. He swept some of his hair away from his own face and made his way back to the company of Amelia. "I do apologize. Has Vaudier returned with our tea?"
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Post by Amelia Jacobson on Dec 21, 2011 19:51:39 GMT
Lifting her eyes to the doctor's face, Amelia offered a small smile that was more confident than she felt. "No need to apologize." She wanted to inquire how the babe was, but decided that that would be rude. It was only when he asked if the chaser had returned with the tea that she realized Vaudier's absence. She had been so caught up in the recent events that she hadn't noticed that the chaser seemed to be taking his own sweet time in coming back. A horrid image of what the beast could be doing to some of her friends made sickening fear grasp her heart for a moment. Amelia shook her head.
"No, it appears that he's having some sort of delay."
She only hoped to God that that delay wasn't what she imagined.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Dec 22, 2011 1:31:23 GMT
"The he's stopped to see Alexander in the bakery. That sorry man can't refrain from visiting his best friend at any givem moment" Edward chuckled softly to himself as he grabbed a stack of paper and a few pencils. "Most girls whom I reward for good behavior like yours enjoy having a moment's repose to sketch."
He offered the stack to her and settled down in his wingback chair, unhooking his collar and unbuttoning a few of the ebony buttons of his shirt to relax a bit.
"Consider yourself fortunate, sweets. Not many girls are allowed to spend the night here. From what I hear-tell, you've been quite the compliant young lady. That'll get you very far in this institution. Unfortunately, most girls find it more suiting to grow more violent and oppositional." He sighed, absently shuffling a stack of folders on his desk.
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