[Accidental Video]
[Alec stands at the top of the Titanic slide in Xanadu, gazing out over the gardens. He's lost his loose scholar robes and is wearing a billowing peasant shirt, slashed open down the front and tucked into the waistband of -- is that a kilt? His legs are encased in stocking and boots. And while he never speaks, there is an audio component to this post, a voice over. almost like narration.]
He stood at the precipice and looked out over the rocky fields to the ocean beyond. This was it. This was all they had left of their homes, their freedom.
It was hard land -- the soil was shallow and strewn about with rocks, from pebbles to boulders, that could foil plows and flounder animals. Unfit for farming, unfit for grazing -- unfit for everything, really. But all their struggles were worthwhile, to know it was theirs. They couldn't be evicted from this land on false charges, or forced into indentured labor to keep their homes. Moreover, their women would be safe from the lurid eyes of the Anglo "lords". He would see his mother, his sisters able to go about their daily business without fear in their eyes.
He just wished he could get her out of his head. The landlord's daughter, with her pouting red lips and glossy chestnut curls. Her image had swum in his mind, laughing, tormented him through the long winter. Though he'd fought to forget, he couldn't. He couldn't give up their nights together -- the silky run of her skin under his hands, the gentle rise and fall of the bosom her bodice did so little to conceal --
But that had been before, hadn't it? Before things changed. Before she'd betrayed him.
Forget her! his conscious roared. It was the right thing to do -- he had no other options.
But how could he? How could he ever sacrifice what they'd had? All they'd shared?
[OOC: If you decide to banish her from your heart forever, turn to page two.
If you're not yet ready to say goodbye, turn to page five.]
He stood at the precipice and looked out over the rocky fields to the ocean beyond. This was it. This was all they had left of their homes, their freedom.
It was hard land -- the soil was shallow and strewn about with rocks, from pebbles to boulders, that could foil plows and flounder animals. Unfit for farming, unfit for grazing -- unfit for everything, really. But all their struggles were worthwhile, to know it was theirs. They couldn't be evicted from this land on false charges, or forced into indentured labor to keep their homes. Moreover, their women would be safe from the lurid eyes of the Anglo "lords". He would see his mother, his sisters able to go about their daily business without fear in their eyes.
He just wished he could get her out of his head. The landlord's daughter, with her pouting red lips and glossy chestnut curls. Her image had swum in his mind, laughing, tormented him through the long winter. Though he'd fought to forget, he couldn't. He couldn't give up their nights together -- the silky run of her skin under his hands, the gentle rise and fall of the bosom her bodice did so little to conceal --
But that had been before, hadn't it? Before things changed. Before she'd betrayed him.
Forget her! his conscious roared. It was the right thing to do -- he had no other options.
But how could he? How could he ever sacrifice what they'd had? All they'd shared?
[OOC: If you decide to banish her from your heart forever, turn to page two.
If you're not yet ready to say goodbye, turn to page five.]