|
|
Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on May 13, 2012 15:02:58 GMT
"Good, good. Good day Rosemary" Vaudier said with a sneer and helped Atticus up from his seat.
He grabbed his hand coyly and helped him along out of the cell, humming a cheery tune. "Sorry I abandoned ya' when we was supposed to walk out to the city, pal" he said a bit ashamedly, "I 'ad to go work on sommat real important-like. But you understand, yer?"
Once outside, Doctor Bramsfield patted Atticus's shoulder strongly "You may want to watch out for that girl. She can be quite sneaky" he advised.
Together, the three walked out, Bramsfield having left the asylum in the care of Willian, his second-in-line chaser to Vaudier. He trusted the man's hands. Besides, the Madame was still there in the institution.
-----
London Bridge was glimmering in the sun, and Vaudier felt a pang of pride at getting to show Atticus this for the first time. They'd made their long journey by carriage thus far, and had decided to have the carriage follow them so they could walk across the bridge together on foot. It was here Edward had tried to take his own life at one point.
"You know, this is where I nearly died. When Noel passed on I...I could no longer see life for what it was worth...I'd lost such a beautiful man..." he sighed heavily but then smiled a bit "Look where it's led me. Now look at my job" he said proudly.
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on May 15, 2012 2:50:49 GMT
Standing up, Atticus held onto Vaudier's hand as he helped him up. He smiled and nodded, understanding perfectly. One's job comes first, after all. He looked to Bramsfield when he felt the man's hand his shoulder and replied.
"Then I shall have to become sneakier, sir." With that, he left with them.
--
This had to be excitement. Atticus couldn't recall the last time he'd been truly excited. Although his behavior was still quite reserved, there was a gleam in his eyes seldom seen. The walk along the bridge was quite enjoyable as he took in the sights with Vaudier and Bramsfield. The young man considered himself very fortunate to have met them. They were just what he needed at this point in his life.
He looked over at the headmaster as his voice caught his attention. Although Atticus was unsure what love was like, he felt for the man. No one should have to go through that kind of pain.
"I'm very glad you're still here, sir. You're an excellent boss," he said with a smile.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on May 15, 2012 21:11:07 GMT
"Why...thank you" he said, a bit taken aback by his response. It surprised him that the chaser could be such a quaint man. He smiled a bit and sighed wistfully, greatly missing his beloved Noel. it ached in his chest and in his soul, and for a while he was deathly silent, trying to forget all the agony of losing his lover. He chewed at his thin lower lip and waited painstakingly to reach his home.
When they arrived, the first impression was of the tidiness of the home. for being rarely used, the winding road that led through the forest and into a large, spacious field full of waving grass and wildflowers was quite clean and the carriage tracks were hardly cut into the dirt road. Through the middle of the field cut a babbling stream whose trickling noise could be heard even over the rattle of the carriage wheels.
The house was small and quaint, painted a soft pinkish white, and the windows were framed by latticed shutters. The front porch was perhaps the largest feature of the house and dominated the front of the victorian-style home. Rose bushes bloomed on either side of the house and down the front walkway, lending their blossoms to the overall appeal of the place. Edward seemed highly out of place here in this cozy home, looking for all the world like an accomplished Londonite and not a country bumpkin.
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on May 28, 2012 16:56:14 GMT
Certain aspects of the home did indeed reflect the headmaster. Particularly the neatness. If one did not properly maintain their own residence, how could that person possibly be expected to maintain anything? Atticus had not expected the house to look quite as... home-y as it did. If a person's house matched their personality, then he had a lot of new things to learn about the doctor. Aspects of his personality that remained hidden.
Atticus took in all the sights of the place, eager to explore this area so removed from society. What paths did Bramsfield typically walk? What sort of symphonies did the local birds conduct? What sort of smells did the wilderness have to offer? Though he remained in his reserved state, the way Atticus tapped his fingers gave away the bottled up eagerness. After looking at all the sights again, he turned to his superiors.
"It's wonderful, sir. It looks very well-tended and cared for."
He wasn't sure how to accurately voice everything he thought. To be honest, it looked like something out of a painting, the scene was so idyllic. Though all things eventually decay and fall into ruin, he hoped Bramsfield's house would forever remain in this perfect state.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on May 28, 2012 17:45:02 GMT
"Thank you. I take the utmost care of it, I like to think." He nodded softly and hopped from the carriage "Care to come in? I can put on some tea if you like. I don't keep much food here except for some biscuits and a vegetable garden. I care to hunt when I'm spending a weekend here. We could enjoy a nice fire out back if you like, when it gets dark. It seems appropriate for the situation, as we shan't just come for a few hours and leave. We could even spend the night."
As unhospitable as Doctor Bramsfield often was, he did his best to sound like a more hospitable, welcoming man as he led them through his house. It was no use being an ass as he so normally was if he was holding guests in his own home. "There is one room I wish you to refrain from entering. Do you see that door there?" He gestured to a door on which a fresh wreath of ribbons and roses hung, beneath which a single red rose lay before the threshold."My Noel died in there. I could never quite clean the floor. It is a sacred place none should touch." His voice was wavering and yet solid and stoic.
He led them into his living room, offering the settee and high-backed chairs for any who would like to sit, and sat himself in a chair at the head of the glass coffee table.
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on May 29, 2012 7:55:06 GMT
"That would be lovely, sir. A fire would be perfect and even spending the night if that's not too imposing."
The headmaster was correct. It wouldn't do to simply stay here for a few hours. That hardly gave them time to enjoy the little house and its surroundings. Besides, it would be a nice retreat. It had been a while since Atticus last immersed himself in nature and guessed it was likely the same for his superiors. As much as he liked the seclusion of the Asylum, it was rather dreary.
He looked around at the interior of the house as Bramsfield guided them through it, his bright blue eyes missing nothing. Just as he noticed the closed door with the wreath, the headmaster addressed it. So that was why it was in that state. He nodded and replied a simple "Understood."
When the doctor offered them seats in the living room, Atticus took a seat in one of the high-backed chairs. Only after the headmaster had sat down, of course. It was bad form to make oneself comfortable before their superiors. His mind suddenly froze. This would be the part where normal social interactions were supposed to come, but he was unsure of what he should say or do. Though his face registered no emotion, his fingers tapped the chair arm instinctively.
Part of his mind became annoyed with this. He shouldn't freeze up over something so silly. These people hadn't judged him at all, especially after the incident with the fox.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on May 29, 2012 11:18:49 GMT
"Somefin' the matter Attiboy?" Vaudier asked as he nudged Atticus from his seat on the loveseat, eyes akindle with memories and nostalgia being here in this home after months away from it. He struck up a conversation with Bramsfield, leaving much room for Atticus to respond should he want to. Doctor Bramsfield had soon slipped away to prepare tea and biscuits.
"So Atticus" Vaudier said in the awkward silence that Doctor Bramsfield left in his wake "'Ow ya like Brammy's house? Quaint little place 'eh? I quite like it. Lived 'ere for a bit by 'is good graces before I went ta work at the Asylum. I seen that room he's talkin' of. Blood all over the floors. Did 'e ever tell ya 'ow Noelypoo died? Tragic story, that one. But 'e's gotta' tell you 'imself if yer ta' know.
Soon Doctor Bramsfield returned bearing tea and biscuits with some chocolate unwrapped on a small dish. "Enjoy, boys." He said, rather brightly. "So, Atticus, do you like my home?" He asked the same question again.
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on May 31, 2012 7:38:19 GMT
Drawn out of his thoughts from the nudge, Atticus shook his head with a soft smile. He knew he was just thinking too hard. It happened more often than he cared to admit. Though he responded little in the conversation that came, he did make it a point to indicate he was listening and that he wasn't at all bored. Atticus was unsure of what to say in the ensuing silence that followed Bramsfield's departure to the kitchen, but Vaudier remedied that.
So it was a traumatic death. Atticus was quite curious but Vaudier was right. That was the headmaster's tale to tell. Perhaps he'd find time to ask Bramsfield about it if the opportunity presented itself. Before he could respond, the doctor had reentered the room. With how happy he was, there was no way Atticus could bring the man's mood down.
"Yes sir. It's a pleasure to be here and see it," he answered with a smile. Selecting the tea cup closest to him, Atticus waiting till Bramsfield and Vaudier had taken theirs before sipping from his own. He was surprised at the flavor explosion on his tongue and his demeanor brightened.
"You make a very good cup of tea, sir." Even if he tried, there would have been no way to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on May 31, 2012 12:26:18 GMT
"You learn a bit from your ancestors when you're Irish. We like some flavour in our tea." He smiled courteously and sipped his own tea, enjoying the flavour as well. It was something he was proud of, so he would say.
He could see the curiosity in young Atticus's eyes and wondered idly what he was thinking about. Perhaps he had some question about his home he could not quite voice. It irked him just the slightest, but either way he did not yet act upon the issue. Best not to do so lest it be something troubling. It was when the curiosity seemed to overcome Atticus and cause him to recoil that he figured it needed to be addressed.
"Is there something you wish to know, boy? I'm all ears. Anything you want. I should really be in a horrid mood, but I fear nothing will bring me out of this good one." He said, rather brightly.
Vaudier chuckled and watched his employer nurse his tea with relish, always the one to enjoy a good brew in the evening. He turned to Atticus and nodded encouragingly. The subject of his lost husband no longer seemed to fully depress him. Got him wistful and gazing, maybe, but never upset. He finished off his tea and smiled "So Attiboy. It's okay to ask 'im."
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Jun 3, 2012 22:50:08 GMT
His focus sharpened when the headmaster addressed him directly. Perhaps his curiosity could be satisfied sooner than he first thought? Of course, that depended on whether or not Bramsfield's mood truly was that good. Glancing at Vaudier, Atticus appreciated the approving nod. Looking back to the headmaster, the young man voiced his question.
"How did Noel die, sir?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Jun 20, 2012 21:16:44 GMT
As the headmaster spoke, Atticus took in everything he said. The man truly did come a long way to how he is now. The doctor was and is indeed an admirable person to have survived the hardships dealt to him.
When Bramsfield finished reliving those painful memories, Atticus remained silent. He nodded to himself and had no intention of pursuing the subject further. That was when the idea popped in his head on how to effectively change the subject, however abrupt the change may be.
"Do you have a rifle or a bow here, sir? Perhaps we could hunt for something here."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 20, 2012 22:21:19 GMT
"I fear I don't keep any weapons here. My home is a place of peace and nonviolence as an homage to my lost love." He said solemnly, but with a smile "Many apologies. Though hunting does sound enjoyable." He said with a nod. He sipped on his tea and looked between Atticus and Vaudier for a few moments "Have I ever played the violin for you, Atticus?" He asked suddenly, eyes alight with something quite steadily excited. In the back of his mind he thanked his lucky stars that he was not suffering under his mood swings today.
Without another word, he stood up and darted to his small music room where he grabbed his other violin, a perfect twin of the one he owned in his office music room. He carried it back out and blew the dust away from it, striking up his bow. "Care to hear me play, you two?" He asked, propping a foot on his ottoman as he stood there, looking powerful as he weilded his bow and instrument.
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Jun 26, 2012 8:11:57 GMT
The young man nodded, understanding the headmaster's sentiment and yet finding it incredibly alien at the same time. Perhaps one day he would understand, though hopefully through better circumstances. Atticus held the silence that had settled and found it it pleasant. He chewed a small piece of chocolate and sipped a bit of tea afterwards.
When Bramsfield asked him if he'd ever heard him play, Atticus shook his head. It wasn't often he'd heard a musician play. A quiet curiosity manifested about his features as his employer exited the room and returned with a violin. When asked if he'd like to hear the man play, Atticus nodded with a boyish eagerness in his eyes. He wondered what sort of sounds the headmaster would summon and leaned forward with interest.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 26, 2012 14:37:41 GMT
"I fear I am a tad rusty, though those who have heard me say otherwise. I guess it is only a matter of differentiation of opinion" he chuckled, in good spirits as his musical mood came out, the one in which he could speak for hours on end about the wonders and benefits of music for the soul. Yet he bit his lip to keep away those words urging to utter themselves, and instead struck up an interval upon two strings which gave him power in his stance. He felt now that he could play to the heavens and back.
He began a lilting classical song which played upon the daintier of moods inside him. It made him feel more fluttery and free. Soon the song lapsed into an old celtic dirge which strung out strong and steady, sorrowful and rustic. He closed his eyes and let the music carry him away, falling into an almost trance like state of his own as he sawed away at the strings with skilled strokes.
When he was finished he looked up to his companions with curiosity, interest piqued by what they may say in response. He knew Vaudier had a distaste for the high notes his violin could produce, but what the other would say was a curiosity to him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Atticus Ravensdale on Jul 6, 2012 9:02:11 GMT
Atticus observed the changes in Bramsfield's demeanor as he took them on an auditory adventure. He did not understand some of the finer points to music, but found the sounds to be pleasing to his ears. It was interesting and enjoyable to go through the different moods and atmosphere evoked by a single instrument.
All too soon, the headmaster stopped playing. Atticus wasn't sure how much time had passed since Bramsfield started; all his attention was so devoted to processing the music that he hadn't bothered to keep track. A light smile made itself present. He wasn't sure how to describe his impressions of the doctor's playing, but he'd make sure to convey that it was a very pleasant experience.
"That was like magic, sir. You play very well."
|
|
