(Untitled)

[2dchanceexcess]

Who: Ichabod Crane and John Wilmot
Where: Ichabod's room, since he was invited
When: Not long after this little exchange
What: Ichabod has questions, and John finds him curious.

Comments

[fractured_will]

Wilmot's history was thoroughly fascinating, enough to the point he'd read it over twenty times now. He sat at his desk, the papers on John set neatly on the left. Beside that were a single document, upon which Ichabod wrote out his questions. At the knock he set down his pen and made his way to the door.

"Welcome, John," he greeted after opening the door. "Do come in. I'm afraid my room is not used to guests. There's a chair near the desk, however." Ichabod stepped aside to let him in.

The first thing to notice about Ichabod's room was that gray was the primary color; secondly, there was very little luxury, or really, anything soft. Once an attic, the aged wood and dusty stone were the primary elements. The only color to be found was his blanket, folded and tucked in neatly as though it'd never been slept in. Seating arrangements were hardly comfortable, as none of the chairs had pillows, and were not made for slouching. The room was lit mainly candles set throughout, and what little light filtered in through the windows.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Pause. "I have no wine, or anything alcoholic."

[2dchanceexcess]

It was a rather austere room, far more plain that he had been accustomed to in his life. The relative low light didn't bother him at all, and it wasn't as though he had never seen anything so bare before. He just hadn't preferred to spend his time in such places- save the back rooms of the theater. Or the pubs...

"No, Constable. I believe I might manage for a time without wine," he answered before he leaned enough to give the man a small kiss on his cheek- which seemed odd, because he had not considered doing so prior to his arrival at the door. A quick look up revealed mistletoe above the other man's door and he smiled before entering. He offered no apology for the kiss, instead he merely turned to face Ichabod, his hand upon the back of a chair. "I believe you have questions?"

[fractured_will]

The kiss was quite sudden and left him thoroughly surprised. He blinked, uncertainly, but already John was moving past him into the room. What--? A glance up revealed the small plant to him. Even so, he was still feeling flabbergasted.

"Um. Yes...questions," Right, okay. Focus on John's purpose for being here. Forget the invasion of personal space. He straightened his posture, becoming once more the rigid professional, all emotions buried beneath.

Ichabod strode back to his desk and took a seat. "Several, actually. First of which will be something simple: do you regret anything in your life?"

[2dchanceexcess]

It was fascinating how quickly Ichabod could pull his formality around him and recover from something that appeared to be unexpected. Had he not put that plant in place? It didn't explain the sudden urge to offer a kiss, but no matter; he was not offended by the idea of offering a kiss to another man, and a quick memory of young Downs passed through his mind before he shoved it away.

"Do I regret anything in my life," he repeated as he took a seat on the Constable's neatly made bed, which seemed to be the most comfortable place to sit by far. "I should think you would prefer the truth to a lie, and yet I cannot say that there would be many. What is the purpose of fostering regret?"

[fractured_will]

Ichabod quite disapproved of the other man sitting on his bed. That was, after all, not an offered chair. He thought about asking John politely to sit elsewhere, but for the moment, thought better of it. One must choose their battles. He simply adjusted the chair so it was closer, and he could see both his notes and John.

"Truth is always preferred to something fabricated. Regret and remorse, the ability to feel sadness; we have the ability to feel these things as civilized beings. It is amongst many things that separates us from animals. Do you feel nothing for the many deaths you have caused?"

[2dchanceexcess]

John made himself perfectly comfortable- within reason. His boots did not touch the bedspread; he was still considerate of that, but otherwise he was content where he was.

"The many deaths I have caused?" he asked as he actually sat forward. How very like his mother this man sounded; they would have agreed so readily, he thought.

"I did not care to feel for some, and for others I cared quite deeply, sir. Are you suggesting that I shoulder the burden of guilt for every life that I have touched, and to carry the weight of my own actions as well? I am to take responsibility for their actions in addition to mine? If that is what you suggest then I reject the very idea, and I will deny it again. Will you propose the very diseases from which I suffered and died were deserved and a punishment?"

He actually rose from the bed this time and paced, irate at the very pain that had occasionally stabbed at his conscious in his past.

"If it pleases you to know that I have some regrets, then by all means enjoy your triumph sir, but do not make the mistake of believing that it will gain you mastery over me. I am not, nor have I ever been, the pawn of any man- Kings included." He wasn't truly angry with Ichabod, it was an honest question- and quite a reaction, but thanks to his wife he did have a certain amount of regret- including some toward her. "Yes, Constable. I did strive in my life to eliminate all feeling, and yet I believe there was always that stirring- for good or ill; that spark that I could never quite extinguish. Here now, I tell you that for some things I feel a certain amount of... remorse, but I shan't bear the guilt for all."

late response is late. sorry! :X

[fractured_will]

Ichabod listened attentively to John's response. He had not expected it to be so elaborate and was pleasantly surprised. Only after he finished did the Constable speak up as he had no intention of interrupting.

"I wish to clarify that no feeling of victory nor sense of conquest resides within me. That is and never was the purpose of my questions for you. I simply wish to know more about you, sir, so as best to help you." He turned to his list of questions, but not out of a need for a reminder. There was evident hesitation when he spoke. "As for the... relationships, a punishment is only in part what I'd consider the disease."

He turned back to John. "Speaking strictly scientifically, there were no doubt other causes that contributed to the syphillis, but being so... carefree in some aspects were irresponsible. You had to know that, and know further you might spread it to others."

He folded his hands again, something that was becoming a habit. "I am curious now, however, why you wished to omit all feeling from your life, and yet paradoxically, sought out mind-altering pleasure from wine and women."

You know, if only I'd remember that I can actually EDIT POSTS I wouldn't be such a loser...

[2dchanceexcess]

John made a dismissive gesture when Ichabod mentioned the disease also being a punishment of sorts. So many were so quick to judge, and that had been part of the point he had been trying to make- all so proper in their own little worlds, putting forth a show of goodness, yet when they were in private they were so very different. Hypocrites, all; at least in his own way he lived his own truth- in his view.

"Know that I would spread it?" he asked as he took a seat once more, having composed himself once again. "If it were a punishment visited on me, then the only others to obtain it would be in the company of others who were, in fact, deserving of such a punishment, isn't that the way righteous justice works? It was the nature of the reign, sir. Nothing that I enjoyed was so different from what anyone else was enjoying- what the King himself was doing."

He had simply been prepared to answer simple questions, but these were more invasive than he had hoped; there seemed to be so little respect for his station- but of course this man was the law, so that was no real surprise- but his final statement was. "Constable, had you ever experienced the pleasure of fine wine and a willing whore, you would not ask such a base and foolish question. Indeed you should make the attempt."

It brought bittersweet memories with it though, of his wife and of his last lover, the woman he would have taken as a wife had it not been for so many reasons that he could not; the least of which was not her unwillingness to be that very thing. "I can see no reason why I should abide your superiority when you haven't the slightest idea what my life has entailed. Go buy a whore, spend a night drunk and wrapped within her favors. Then return to me and cast judgment; until then no words that I speak will enlighten you. Do this and you might understand."

If Icchy ignores the subject of whores, it'll go away. ...Right?

[fractured_will]

The more John spoke of whores, the more Ichabod wished he wouldn't. He kept his composure, of course, though his lips did frown most disapprovingly at the mere suggestion he should go purchase his pleasure. Not that it mattered as those sort of women didn't exist on the Barge--not that Ichabod would point that out. He would, in fact, not continue that topic of discussion at all. Bury it under the conversational rug, as it were.

"If your... king," The word had almost been emphasized with distaste, "had set himself under his carriage to be trampled would you then have done the same? Proclaiming your innocence through the guilt of others by no means frees you of responsibility. You are a product of your time, and I have sympathy. But surely you should've known, had some hint, that ignoring your illnesses would have consequences."

Yep.

[2dchanceexcess]

"All monarchs I hate, and the thrones they sit on, From the hector of France to the cully of Britain," he quoted before he returned an equally distasteful look to Ichabod. "You mistake me, sir. It was not for love of any king that I lived as I did, my reason was far more personal. I enjoyed it. I offer no justification beyond that, and you would do well to remember it."

It seemed that his own love of life was the cause of this- post life punishment of sorts. This man was more of what John's own mother would have approved of: composed, distant, restrained and well mannered, and while John was many of those things, restrained was not one of them. Not in the moral areas that seemed to count anyway- not that he always wished her approval either. It was simply ironic; this man bore a resemblance to him, an yet resembled him not at all.

"However, your assumption is incorrect. I did accept the treatments- the baths, the elixirs, the unguents; it was not ignored. None survived such a disease, and of my friend I was the unfortunate who seemed to find it. There are no miracles to remove it, after all," he pointed out, not knowing a thing about medical advances. "So the punishment was full, I suffered, and many wept. Now, have you further questions, or do you desire the revolting details of the illness?"

[fractured_will]

Ichabod visibly cringed at the offer, and his composure briefly vanished. "No, no, that's... quite alright. The details are... um, well documented, thank you." It was a wonder he had dealt with beheadings.

"Accepting treatments is one thing, and that is admirable." he continued after a pause. "But continuing to... to sleep around, while you still had the desire to, is an entirely different matter. Treatment for you might've been difficult, but you condemned others to endure the same." He frowned, and a tone of mild distaste was evident. "A love of life and pleasure encouraged you; I would've far preferred that you were merely following by example, if I may speak truthfully." He was doing his best not to judge but it was most difficult.

Ichabod contemplated his own papers, tapping his fingers against their edges. He was unaware of how much he sounded like his father, who screamed hellfire and damnation every Sunday. But he did know that all his questions thus far had been rather heavy. So, he decided to shift to something lighter. He turned once more to John, leaning forward a little.

"Now without your... leisurely pleasures here on the Barge, what sort of hobbies shall you partake in?"

[2dchanceexcess]

"What you would have preferred to believe is not my concern, sir. You wished for me to relay the truth, and I have done so. If you would prefer that I lie to preserve your sensitivities, I can say with full confidence that your sensitivities will be harmed," he told the Constable, not at all concerned with his discomfort. "You concern yourself so well with my disease, yet I have come to understand that it was not created by me, and I did not afflict all others who have suffered and died, yet I am to take such blame."

He was conveniently ignoring what Ichabod had to say, but he understood it perfectly well. The condemnation was clear in the words, but he was determined to not make it so easy for the Constable; he was not prepared to allow him to make him feel such regret.

The next question was actually surprising, considering the weight of the questions that had come before. "Well, I would imagine that my... leisurely pleasures would be quite different from what they used to be," he offered in a silky voice as he took a seat in an actual chair, uncomfortable as it was. "If you are indeed my warden, and you are responsible for my actions, then I should think you must assign appropriate entertainment. If you tell me that I am free to do as I will, then I shall discover what pleases me." He didn't know enough of what was happening on the barge yet to decide exactly what he would do, he hadn't been on board long enough. Most of his time had been spent alone, but that would change soon enough.

[fractured_will]

Ichabod sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. John was an elusive one, that much was obvious. He evaded any blame set to him by pointing the fault to others. His lifestyle was shared by all, the creation of the disease wasn't by him, therefore he should have no guilt or regret. Ichabod found that string of logic quite frustrating; especially how it might have some merit, and could not simply be dismissed.

For now he decided to focus on the subject of hobbies. There was only so much progress to be made in the first meeting. He figured he'd given the man more than enough to think about until the next time.

"I am your Warden, but I have no desire to monitor your every waking moment. That would be an invasion of privacy, among other things. Within reason, you have freedom of the Barge. Explore as you see fit. I can tell you where the important rooms are on each level, if you like."

His brow furrowed as an idea sprung up, yet he was unsure if it was something worth telling. In the end he decided to. Having someone to talk to might do John some good. "By the way, your history mentioned that you are a writer? You may pen whatever prose you wish whilst here. I will not censor unless there is a need. But, there is another on board like you--the Marquis de Sade. I think he shares... similar tastes to you as well as having a fondness for fiction. Reading as well as writing, I presume. If you'd like, I could arrange a meeting?"

[2dchanceexcess]

This was like no prison he had heard of- nor experienced, for that matter. Concerns for his privacy? Write as he wish, explore as he desired? Freedom, and in exchange he needed to admit that he was at fault. He wasn't prepared for that, but freedom to do as he wished- that sounded wonderful.

"I did write briefly with the Marquis through the letter. I am pleased to know that another of noble birth is present. I would meet the gentleman, of course; do arrange it. If our tastes are indeed similar, I believe we shall have much to discuss," he said in a nonchalant, almost dismissive way. The man had intrigued him, and knowing that at least another aristocrat was on board was a comforting thought; in truth he wondered why there wasn't more, especially considering what he knew of many others. Granted his station was higher in regard to peerage, but John had spoken casually to a King- a Marquis did not intimidate him in the least.

"Not that I do not so enjoy your company," he continued sardonically as he looked to Ichabod.

[fractured_will]

"Yes, I'm sure my company is thrilling," Ichabod remarked dryly, but with a small hint of a smile. "I shall send word to the Marquis about the meeting, and urge him to contact you. Where you meet and what you discuss shall be between you two. It may be foolish on my part but I'm not going to be in attendance. That can change later if need be, I wish to stress."

[2dchanceexcess]

The dry remark made John offer an irritated look, but in truth he was not irritated. He was somewhat amused by the fact that the man spoke to him in such a way, and for a moment he reminded him of his former servant. It was brief though; this man was not this servant. If anything it could work quite the opposite, and he did not like that notion in the least.

"I am quite capable of contacting who I will," he replied as he stood and adjusted his lace cuffs. "However, I will allow you to do this for me. Of course I expect that I shall meet others, I have been most reclusive since my arrival."

There was also the question of others of his station, but all things in time. "If you have no further questions?" he asked almost dismissively as he tapped his fingers on the tabletop. It appeared as though he had a great deal of time, and that eventually he would hear of more questions as it progressed- although he had no doubt that this man would just ask directly and without regard. That seemed to be the way this man was, and in truth it was a trait that he could respect, even if he didn't always appreciate it.