Comments | fairlytalesrpg: currently untitled

tinsoldiered in fairlytalesrpg

currently untitled

Jan 17, 2008 22:11

WHO Georgia Bradford [Molly Whuppie] and Charlie Toussaint [Tin Soldier]
WHEN Wednesday January 16 2007, 7 PM
WHERE Georgia's house in Queens
WHAT As promised, Charlie takes down Mrs. Bradford's Christmas lights. They exchange gifts.
RATING TBD!
STATUS In-Progress!

( Truth be told, Charlie was just glad to fill his head with thoughts other than his self-cancelled dinner plans the night before-anything was better than the aftertaste of disappointment still fresh in his mouth. )

charles toussaint, georgia bradford

Comments 3

cometospain January 18 2008, 05:36:30 UTC

A puff of steam and the glow of the entryway illuminated the shilouette of Georgia Bradford's considering figure in the sharpness of that early night, the ambition of her shadow groping towards the furthest reaches of her front yard. Her chin was trapped within one knotted hand, and the other tapped the wooden cane as she thought with her peculiar brand of mock arduous deliberation, until the very moment when the head of the cane knocked at its loudest and Georgia lifted her hand in theatrical dismissal.

"Where they always go, Charles. But," her voice insisted, strong and clear as it always perseveres in doing, "do place them on the porch furniture for now. You have a hot dinner waiting for you and I won't abide it getting cold. If there is anything more abysmal than reheated beans," and the voice was decidedly acrid with her particular sarcasm on the tip, "I think the military would be hard-pressed to not use it as a secret weapon. Now!" The cane cracked again, that icy air around the two being the best of sound conductors. "Come ( ... )

tinsoldiered January 18 2008, 06:46:22 UTC

The small world of the Bradford house made him forget his frozen footprints, closing the door behind him with a gentility he did not usually possess. With that soft motion, the warmth of the house wrapped around him, causing him to shed his coat by the shoulder, then the sleeve, before it rested on a gold-gilded hook on the wall as it had a thousand times before. (Once upon a time, the coat in question had been discarded on the back of a kitchen chair, and Georgia had quickly righted that wrong with such decisiveness that Charlie never dared to attempt it again.) From there, he went silent to the half-bath beneath the stairs. The heat pump hummed through the first floor as the warm water slowly put the feeling back into his fingers ( ... )

cometospain January 19 2008, 23:29:15 UTC

Halfway through 'Tea, if that's okay,' and Georgia had already filled a tall glass full of ice cubes and Lipton's iced. Not that Georgia would ever own up to such a thing, but it went unsaid that the tallest of her drink glasses was Charlie's by proxy, and that it was equally unsaid that the pitcher in the icebox was for his use alone. She never had taken a fondness for Lipton's, after all, much preferring a lemonade if she had to have summer refreshment, but the pitcher endured. She made short work; the glass was already frosted with condesating beads by the time of Charlie's appearance, tiny glasses of sugar cubes and lemon wedges nestled carefully by the pepper pickles nearby. Placing all the stops out for company was, after all, something Georgia prided herself in immensely ( ... )