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Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Apr 26, 2012 0:47:50 GMT
Atticus was confident Vaudier would remember how to get there. He was a smart man and if he could navigate through the Asylum with ease, London would be no problem.
The young man's thoughts came to an abrupt halt upon receiving the peck to the cheek and the compliment that followed it. It surely had to be more happiness. He'd seen other people do the same as a greeting, farewell, and when they were happy. This was simply another way to express happiness. Atticus felt himself glow in the warmth resulting from it.
"Thank you, sir," he replied, standing up and stretching a little. "What was your sister like?" Atticus realized how little he knew of his superior. Both Vaudier and Bramsfield. He knew he'd learn more as he worked, but asking questions couldn't hurt anything. Plus, that was what people did. People took an interest in each other and that was how friendships formed.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Apr 26, 2012 2:02:11 GMT
"Don't ask about her." He said seriously with a pained expression "Not now, at least."
It was a painful story of rape and whoring, and he certainly wouldn't be sharing it with anyone anytime soon. The only one who knew--mainly because he was forced to tell--was Doctor Bramsfield. His siter had been a shameful whore, and though they were close as children, they drifted apart when she took to being a woman of the night. Soon after, she'd gotten herself pregnant, raped, and murdered...but he could never vocalize that again in his lifetime.
Once was too painful.
He put on a fake smile and nodded "Le's go ta London, 'Kay?"
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Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Apr 26, 2012 4:59:22 GMT
A frown manifested onto Atticus's face. There must be painful memories attached to her.
"I'm sorry, sir. I promise not to ask about her again."
Of all the times he chose to be inquisitive, this had to be the one. Although he knew it wasn't his fault, he still wished he hadn't said anything. He didn't like seeing Vaudier upset like that, especially with how cheerful the man usually was. Atticus smiled back.
"Yes sir."
He walked with his superior, hoping the mood would improve soon. If he knew how to cheer people up he'd try doing so to Vaudier.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Apr 29, 2012 13:54:30 GMT
"So. You say you were in Burma. whatfor?" He asked as they walked with long strides down the cobblestone drive of the Asylum together. He even dared to keep closer to Atticus than normal. Something in him felt possessive and clingy for this soldier-turned-security guard. Perhaps he had an interesting story to tell to pass the time?
Vaudier wasn't all angry. Parts of him were seething now, thinking of Camellia, but the other side of him was perfectly fine with the question. How could he have known that his sister was a sensitive point? He brushed it off as mere accident and decided not to let it ruin his day.
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Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Apr 29, 2012 18:08:46 GMT
Utilizing a change in topic to steer the conversation away from a place it should not have gone. He would have to remember that. It would be very useful for future conversations. The young man smiled a little as he answered his superior's question.
"Primarily to keep peace. There are rebels there that don't like British occupation, so my troop and I kept them weak. Their surprise attacks kept us on our toes and we learned to improvise," he said with a quiet chuckle. "We deviated from proper military engagement. A friend of mine saw the wisdom and advantages of guerrilla warfare. It was quite successful and a little secret we all kept from those who cared about it."
He looked at the scenery as the pair made their way to London. Vaudier seemed to be walking a little more closely than usual, but that didn't bother him. If they were becoming friends, then that was perfectly normal, right? Right. Looking up at the darkening sky, Atticus considered himself fortunate. He seemed to be making a friend and felt less alone. He continued to talk, a rarity for the soft-spoken man.
"It wasn't all quelling rebellions, though. We did a lot of hunting and traded with the natives. Some of them were quite friendly even. I liked when some of the locals would go hunting with us. It was always a huge adventure then. They'd tell us stories of their ancestors and the history of their culture. It's a shame their knowledge wasn't appreciated by most."
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Apr 29, 2012 19:36:52 GMT
"That sounds like quite a lot o' fun. Makes you a more cultured man, it seems." He said, strolling down the street, enjoying the sunlight shimmering on his warmed skin. It felt nice. Comforting. The Asylum was a cold and dank place he did not entirely enjoy lurking in. The only other time he warmed up was in Bramsfield's office by the fireplace.
"I lived a simple life here in England. Never really travelled elsewhere. I went to Scotland once, but that was it." He said simply. He shrugged and listened on, wondering if Atticus would tell him a tale from his military experience. He was fascinated.
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Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Apr 30, 2012 2:41:06 GMT
He chuckled. "I don't know about cultured, but it was certainly a learning experience, sir."
The buildings came into sharper focus as they neared London. Air smelled fresher here, though he missed the saltiness of air from the ocean. Maybe on another day he and Vaudier could explore the docks. Perhaps they could sneak aboard the ships for a while before they set sail as he had done in his boyhood. A simple life was nice, but he also wanted his superior to know what it was like to go on a little adventure. For now, he could tell Vaudier stories of his adventures.
"The natives are a very superstitious lot. A man my friends and I frequently traded with once asked us to hunt down a wild boar he believed was possessed by a demon. He said it was larger than normal boars and had snow white hide and blood-red eyes. The thing had been attacking people in a village near where we were stationed. It had gored one of his relatives there and he didn't want to wait on the local hunters to find it. Plus, he trusted us.
"We sneaked out of the barracks the next night and made our way to where most of the attacks seemed to occur. It was midnight when we started and we'd almost given up until about three in the morning. True to the description, we saw a very large white boar with red eyes. It was more aggressive than normal because it had contracted rabies at some point, so we exercised extreme caution."
He paused briefly, remembering the way the night air smelled and how still the breeze was. Atticus remembered the erratic way the beast walked, as though rage were the only thing tying it to its physical body. Its eyes truly did seem ethereal, but it had to have been a trick of the light.
"We circled behind it, but it took a while. I swear that boar could hear our beating hearts. Just a few seconds before we were going to attack it, it whirled around and attacked us. My friend stabbed it in the throat with his bayonet. I shot at it in surprise but only wounded it. Our other friend made the kill; he got it right in the temple. We took it to the village and informed them that we'd vanquished their demon. I wish we could have stayed to watch their ceremony to honor their dead, but none of us wanted to catch hell from our commanding officer. We'd just barely made it back before he came in to wake everyone up. I swear I fell asleep a couple times during morning laps."
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