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| Elementary, My Dear; Helena // Jerome | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 8 2010, 03:51 PM (350 Views) | |
| Ammy | Sep 8 2010, 03:51 PM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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[doHTML] <table align=center cellpadding=10 cellspacing=0 width=400 bgcolor=#FFFFFF style="border:1px solid #8B1A1A ;"><td> <font style="font-family:georgia;font-size:8pt;color:#CD2626"> [align=right] ![]() <br>... helena tuddenham[/align] <br>[align=center]Summer 12th, Year 08<br> Around 12:10 pm<br> .::outfit <br><br> – — – [/align]The Fluorite Cafe wasn’t a place Helena frequented. She preferred her time alone, spending her lunch hours curled up with a book, or perhaps manning the police station was usually preferable to occupying a crowded little restaurant. And yet here she was, awaiting her partner for a small meal before heading off to work. Of course, he was late, which for Michael was par for the course. He was a wonderful policeman, but always seemed to have issues showing up on time. This did not bode well for their professional relationship, but they had managed to survive two seasons without killing one another, so perhaps she could deal with him for a meal. If he ever even showed up. She pouted slightly, stretching back in her chair to stare at the empty seat in front of her. Then looking at her clock. They had scheduled for twelve o’ clock, correct? He should have been here ten minutes ago.<br><br> Helena turned the face of her watch so it was facing away from her, she didn’t need to be constantly reminded by her partner’s complete lack of punctuality. She would have to speak with him about this, eventually. Perhaps a little verbal lashing would see him arrive on time in the future. He is more than likely gallivanting off with a lady of the evening... or afternoon, rather. she thought, pursing her lips in mild disapproval. Helena couldn’t decide what was worse mentally, him being a skirt chaser, or her not having a single man in her life that she could think of in that way. On the one hand, he no doubt broke hearts, upset young women and made a right b****** out of himself. On the other, here she was alone in a cafe with no one to speak to. Perhaps she didn’t even need a man so much as friends, being the workaholic she was, Helena didn’t get out much.<br><br> It was simply too much for her, balancing her work life and her social life. She felt that she was the only one at the police station who took her job completely seriously. Rita indulged the others far too much. Helena shook her head, and pressed her fingers to her temple. You must stop thinking like this, they are your co-workers after all. You are stuck with them. She allowed herself a quiet sigh, before leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. Bad table manners, she was aware, but it wasn’t as if she had anyone here to chastise her.<br><br> The worst part about this was that she couldn’t even order, Michael had agreed to pay and she had left her wallet back at the station. She had a police discount, yes, but that didn’t mean she got to eat for free. <br><br>[align=center] – — – [/align] </font> </td> </table> [/doHTML] |
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| Lyse | Sep 16 2010, 03:50 AM Post #2 |
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Tea is a many-splendored thing~
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The first time that Jerome had seen the north half of the island, he had stayed on the road, more interested in getting his pottery wheel to the inn and chatting with Aqua than in pausing to explore the scenery. What he had seen from the road had been interesting, though, and as soon as he'd taken care of the first few essential business details in the village, he had found some time to head back north and start exploring the wilderness he had missed on his first day. Today's poking around had brought him to the Ruby Waterfall. He spent a while admiring the fall and its surroundings, sitting by the pool and dipping his hands in the water. By some coincidence, Jerome noticed the sign for the Flourite Cafe just as he was getting hungry. He had gotten up, thinking about heading back to the inn for lunch to fortify himself before he opened his shop for its first day of business, and had glanced around for one last look at the scenery. It was then that he saw the cafe sign. Eating out would be more expensive than going back to the inn, he thought, but it was right here, and he had a little money--he could at least go in and check it out, look over the prices and decide if he had the spare change for it. He was about to open up his shop, after all, and he hoped he'd make enough this week to cover one meal. Brushing damp dirt off the seat of his denim shorts, he headed for the cafe. The place looked nice, Jerome thought as he entered and looked around, though for some reason he hadn't expected the decor to be quite so... "rustic" seemed like the word for it. It gave him the impression of coziness, in part from the interior design and in part from the number of people there for lunch. It wasn't overcrowded, but every table had at least one person sitting there. The couches in the center looked comfortable, but Jerome dismissed them almost immediately, because the cluster of teenagers there were clearly a group of friends, and would probably object to a grown stranger sitting down with them. He didn't particularly want to pretend to ignore his seatmates, or force them to pretend to ignore him. Scanning the room, Jerome looked for any tables that looked like they had open seats. His gaze lit on Helena's table, and Jerome brightened and started towards it. Since she was the only person sitting there, he wouldn't be interrupting a private lunch. As he got closer, he saw her rub her forehead, looking annoyed, and hesitated for a moment--he didn't want to be an extra annoyance to someone having a bad day--but then continued with renewed determination. Maybe some light conversation would take her mind off whatever was bothering her. Stopping by the table, he laid a hand on the back of the chair to her right and smiled down at her. "Hey, do you mind if I sit here? There aren't any empty tables," he explained, waving his other hand vaguely at the occupied tables all around them. "And I thought you might like company." |
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Jerome Marshall - Felicia Soto Reyes - Annette Wood Filing Cabinet - NPCs | |
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| Ammy | Sep 17 2010, 01:37 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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[doHTML] <table align=center cellpadding=10 cellspacing=0 width=400 bgcolor=#FFFFFF style="border:1px solid #8B1A1A ;"><td> <font style="font-family:georgia;font-size:8pt;color:#CD2626"> [align=right] ![]() <br>... helena tuddenham[/align] <br>[align=center]Summer 12th, Year 08<br> Around 12:10 pm<br> .::outfit <br><br> – — – [/align]Helena took the menu in hand, figuring that she might as well order. Men, honestly. There was just no telling with them. She had built a career out of working with them, law enforcement was unashamedly built around testosterone and the ladies often got shafted to the side. Hence why she had to be so forceful, it was the only way to get by. The majority of her workmates were men, she ought to be used to this behaviour by this point. Still apparently put-out, and more than slightly on the grumpy side, Helena propped up the menu with her hands. “Hmm...” she said, browsing the menu with a careful gaze. Somewhere in the wait she had lost her appetite to her own inner ranting, apparently she could feed off of annoyance if she needed to. An interesting note for the future, should she ever be more than a stone’s throw from a super market she need only find something to complain about, and her hunger is swept away.<br><br> Perhaps just order tea in the vain hope of her partner ever showing up. Simple, English tea would probably do her a world of good, calming her down and reminding her of the home she left in one fell swoop. Had it been three seasons already? And yet she felt she had accomplished so little. Work at the police station was unfulfilling and dull. She wasn’t helping people like she had been in London, there was no reason to help. Her old captain had once said that if all was good in the world and a cop had time to sit on his ass and eat biscuits it was a good sign, but Helena hated it. This wasn’t why she became a cop. The police station here was more of an accessory than anything, there not to provide security through actual law enforcement but acting as a ornament. And she hated it. God, she hated it so much.<br><br> Maybe a move was in order, she would sort out her thoughts alone later, perhaps in a bathhouse.<br><br> The quick, sudden scratching of the chair’s legs against the floor shook her from her thoughts. She frowned on instinct, growing a little frustrated by the sudden interruption. Helena looked up, face again a neutral mask. It was a young man with long hair and a goatee, immediately her mind jumped to hooligan. Yes, yes, it was wrong. Judging and all that, but no matter what anyone told you, trying to measure a person was almost necessary as a police officer. While she was never going to suggest that all people who looked strange were indeed capable of crime, the thought was always there, and human instinct was keener than many made it out to be. That being said, from this man’s manners and speech patterns she doubted he was going to stick up the place. Not in a place like this, anyway.<br><br> “No, it’s fine. You can sit,” she said shortly. Wasting no time she continued, “Helena Tuddenham, at your service.” She extended her hand across the table, the faintest of smiles quirked her lips. <br><br>[align=center] – — – [/align] </font> </td> </table> [/doHTML] |
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| Lyse | Sep 21 2010, 03:22 AM Post #4 |
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Tea is a many-splendored thing~
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Taking Helena at her word, Jerome flopped down into the chair and pulled it up to the table. "Thanks," he said, the friendly smile still on his face, and reached out to take her hand in a careful grip. "Jerome Marshall. Nice to meet you, Helena." As they shook hands, he took the opportunity for a closer look. The British accent had stood out to him when she spoke, and combined with the flat neutrality of her first look up at him, the initial expression he got was one of formality. She did have a sort of clean-cut, young-professional look to her, Jerome thought, one he was familiar with more from movies than from personal experience. Though she did smile when she held out her hand, it was faint enough that Jerome couldn't be sure if it was anything more than politeness. She hadn't rebuffed him or ignored him, though, and that was good enough for him. Releasing her hand, Jerome glanced around for another menu. Helena had the only one on this table, and he was hardly going to take it away from her, but he didn't want to sit there twiddling his thumbs waiting for her. It seemed like it would be a little awkward. Before he could twist around to check the table behind them, though, a waitress hurried by, dropping another menu on the table and smiling absently at them before rushing on to someone else who was waving for her attention. Chuckling quietly, Jerome reached over and twitched it into place right-side-up in front of him, glancing down to skim the prices. They didn't look bad; he could afford a nice fortifying lunch before he went off to open his shop. His stomach fluttered just a little bit when he thought too hard about the shop, and his smile slid away. There was more than one reason, Jerome was forced to admit to himself, that he'd set today's opening four hours later than the normal schedule he had decided upon for himself. He'd had two days to clean and set up, and there wasn't that much more work that needed to be done, though it wouldn't hurt to bag the packing paper he'd left scattered behind the counter yesterday, even if it shouldn't be visible to customers where it was. He'd handled sales before, while working with Juliana, but this business was all his own. That was mostly exciting, but he couldn't entirely avoid a bit of worry about being the only person responsible for his success or failure. If he didn't think about it too much until he started, though, he knew he'd be fine. Once he had actual work to do, he wouldn't worry; that was the way things always went for him. So he tried to push away all thoughts of the shop and flicked his gaze back up from the menu to Helena, the friendly smile reappearing without any need for effort, now with a slightly amused quirk to it as he remembered his earlier thought of distracting her from her worries with conversation. Maybe he'd been projecting. "This place is busy," he commented, then chuckled. "Must mean the food is good. You eaten here before?" |
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Jerome Marshall - Felicia Soto Reyes - Annette Wood Filing Cabinet - NPCs | |
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| Ammy | Sep 24 2010, 04:23 PM Post #5 |
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[doHTML] <table align=center cellpadding=10 cellspacing=0 width=400 bgcolor=#FFFFFF style="border:1px solid #8B1A1A ;"><td> <font style="font-family:georgia;font-size:8pt;color:#CD2626"> [align=right] ![]() <br>... helena tuddenham[/align] <br>[align=center]Summer 12th, Year 08<br> Around 12:10 pm<br> .::outfit <br><br> – — – [/align] Helena was often one to put common-courtesy before her own personal needs, though in many ways it was one of her personal needs. Remaining polite even in the face of adversity. Her father had taught her that long ago. "Even when someone begins to lose their temper, remain calm and polite." he would say, of course often times this only served to make them angrier. Nothing was more frustrating than an opponent who refused to get as riled as you were. Yet at the same time, as hard as it was to have Helena lose her patience, she wasn't the most patient of women. If the wrong person was to, say, eat with their mouth open, she would become irked very quickly. She supposed it all had to do with who was doing it in the first place. No matter.<br><br> As the waitress hurried over, Helena raised her hand, not saying a word. Somehow this still caught the attention of the waitress. She cleared her throat, and looked up at the server. "I would just like some hot tea, if you please," she said. She heard people here had their tea cold, which honestly confused her a tad. What good was tea when it didn't warm you thoroughly? The waitress nodded, smile, uttered a 'coming right up, ma'am' or some other stock server phrase, before hurrying off.<br><br> Helena folded her menu before her, resting her hands upon the cool laminated front page.<br><br> She looked over at the table at Jerome, noticing with some confusion that his smile was quickly fading. She didn't think it was something she had said, they had hardly exchanged two words. Or perhaps that is the answer... she thought, clicking her nails once upon the surface of her menu, only to realise it was a rather obnoxious sound and folded her hands under the table. Some people thrived on conversation, breathed and ate it. Helena enjoyed it as much as the next person, but silence was just as pleasant for her. Very few people were capable of holding a constant conversation with her, it seemed, but the ones who could were always of great interest.<br><br> "Hm?" she raised an eyebrow, then smiled slightly. "Ah, yes... I have, actually. A few times." It was the place the police office got its early morning coffee from, after all. Melody had stumbled into the station every morn with an armful of black and decaf, and a lone tea that belonged to Helena. "It's quite good, yes. Very simple food, but it doesn't suffer from it."<br><br> Another polite smile. She crossed her arms one another, one arm eventually snaking back to rub the back of her neck. "So I'm assuming you're new?" she said, posing it as a question if only for manner's sake. He was obviously new, he said it with almost every movement he made. <br><br>[align=center] – — – [/align] </font> </td> </table> [/doHTML] |
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| Lyse | Sep 25 2010, 09:25 PM Post #6 |
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Tea is a many-splendored thing~
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The sound of Helena's nails clicking on the menu wasn't that loud, but it still drew Jerome's attention, and he glanced that way before she withdrew her hands. He as quickly returned his gaze to her face, wondering if it was a bored gesture or just an unconscious habit. He nodded at her answer to his question and the subsequent evaluation of the cafe's food. He had picked well, then; affordable and good. Jerome didn't have any problems with simple food, so long as it was edible. In his experience, it was fancy foods that were more likely to not be worth the money. Not because they were necessarily bad, just because the more flavors and combinations something had, the more likely it was that something in it was going to disagree with him. "Looks like I picked the right place for lunch," he told her cheerfully. Ah, the most common question--not that Jerome was going to complain about it. He was new, and he'd rather people know it than get stared at for ignorance or asked about local politics or affairs or whatever. If they had local politics here. They probably did--the island might resemble a paradise, but he didn't think anyplace could be that paradisical--but he wasn't interested in getting involved in whatever local grudges or dramas Obsidian Village might have quite yet. Maybe if he was lucky he wouldn't get involved in drama at all, but then again, it was hard to make friends without sometimes running into some. And a few years ago he might have said it wasn't worth the trade-off, but a few years ago he hadn't really had much experience with loneliness. "Yep, I'm new here," he affirmed with a nod. "Got into town a week ago, so I'm just starting to settle in. This is the first time I've been up to see this place," he said, waving in the direction of the nearest window. "Didn't know there was a waterfall here until I followed that path up. It was a cool surprise." His smile widened, and he chuckled quietly, folding his arms on the table in front of him. He hadn't intended to linger at the pool as long as he had, but he couldn't just ignore a sight like that. Waterfalls were even better than rain, and while Ruby Waterfall couldn't measure up to a good roaring thunderstorm in sheer impressive power, it had a different, more subtle attraction. Some time in the future he would have to come up in swim trunks and check it out more thoroughly. Maybe at the same time that he hit the beach; he could make it a day trip. Later, once he was more settled into the town. "What about you?" Jerome asked Helena. "You seem to know the place. You been here long?" He guessed that she probably wasn't native to the island, not with her accent. There would have to be some pretty special circumstances for her to be from Obsidian Village and have such a clearly British way of speaking--and in that case, she'd have to be used to people assuming she wasn't a local. Way more likely that she was an immigrant to the island herself. |
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Jerome Marshall - Felicia Soto Reyes - Annette Wood Filing Cabinet - NPCs | |
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| Ammy | Sep 28 2010, 03:54 AM Post #7 |
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[dohtml] <br><br> <table border="0" align=center height="400" width="500" background="http://i56.tinypic.com/efnp78.jpg"> <tr> <td> <div style="position:relative; width:220px; height:340px; right:2px; left:260px; top:10px; bottom:-7px; overflow:auto; padding:2px;"> <span style='font-size:10pt;line-height:100%'> [align=right] <br>Summer 12th, Year 08<br> around 12:10 pm<br> outfit[/align]<br><br> ”Looks like you did,” she said, offering him a polite smile. There weren’t many places to eat on the island. Here, and some Indian restaurant she had yet to visit. Perhaps more existed, she hadn’t bothered to find out. Helena was not one for eating out, to be perfectly honest. On her days off she would cook proper meals, even Yorkshire pudding if she was up to it. Most days, however, it was soup or ramen. Something quick and ridiculously unhealthy, but it kept her running. Having lunch with a co-worker was supposed to be a relaxing way to spend her afternoon, but only if said co-worker showed up. She supposed a relaxing lunch with a complete stranger would work just as well, but only time could tell. That didn’t mean Michael was off the hook for this, she thought, brow furrowing slightly. She pressed her fingers to her temple, trying to rid herself of any and all thoughts against her partner. It wouldn’t do to kill him and be stuck with Rita, or one of the new policemen.<br><br> Not that there was anything wrong with them, per se. She was a creature of habit, and despite her complaints she had grown used to Michael and his ways.<br><br> Helena nodded, not surprised he was new. They had this look about them, wide-eyed and interested in everything this small town had to offer. That, or they looked bored out of their minds. There were people who were so excited about a new life, she almost envied them a little. It took a lot for her to get truly excited about something, and even then she tried to maintain it the best she could. Letting emotions get the better of you was all well and good if you were a young girl, fresh-faced and read to take on anything. As she got older, Helena realised that a reserved approach was better for keeping your head on your shoulders and your heart in your own hands. Not as many people would toy with it. She took in a sharp breath. Perhaps if she were to meet Robin again today, things would be different.<br><br> Enough, Helena! she thought, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. She wasn’t in London, there was no reason to think about him. Or anyone from over there. Her lips twitched into a smile, it wouldn’t do to have flashbacks with this young man sitting right across from her. “I know it well enough, it’s my job to, after all,” she said. Her voice always sounded so ridiculously posh in her own mind, even if the particular inflections of estuary English had become natural after all this time. It was difficult to believe she had once spoken like a proper Derby girl. “I... moved here in Autumn, right at the end of it actually. If you would like any direction or instruction, you’ve come to the right place.” Helena added with a smirk, folding her hands over themselves. </span> </div> </td> </tr> </table> [/doHTML] |
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| Lyse | Oct 2 2010, 12:26 AM Post #8 |
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Tea is a many-splendored thing~
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Sometimes Jerome wondered if he was being overenthusiastic about exploring the island, especially when he did still have things he needed to take care of to get fully settled into the place. But settling in wasn't just a matter of having all the paperwork filled out, he told himself; it was also about getting to know his new home. And this was the first time he'd ever moved, not counting the move into Juliana's workshop some ten years ago, so he figured that he could give himself some leeway to act a little less than his age. So long as he didn't embarrass himself in front of anyone, at least, and he didn't seem to be doing that. Helena was smiling, but it didn't look like she was laughing at him. He smiled brightly back. So she'd been here a little more than half a year, Jerome thought, quickly doing the math in his head. She seemed to be comfortable here, so he guessed she must have gotten to know the place quickly. He hoped he did as well as she looked to have done. "It's your job to know it?" he repeated, curious about that statement. He supposed any job in Ocean of Stars might require some knowledge about the island in general, but Helena had made it sound more in-depth than that, and he wondered what kind of job would require that. Was she a tour guide, or a surveyor or something? If she worked for the town government, she'd probably need in-depth knowledge of it. The waitress returned before he could voice any of his guesses, darting up to the table and setting Helena's tea down at her place and then opening up her order pad. Jerome held up a hand, shooting her a sheepish smile, and quickly glanced down to take another, closer look at the menu. A couple of the lunch options were out--he wasn't a fan of chickens whether they were alive or cooked, and in his opinion clam was just extra-slimy fish--but there were still some appealing options. "I'll have the beef vegetable soup," he told the waitress after a moment's thought, looking back up at her as she scribbled down his order. "And a water." Some other time he would have to try out their other offerings, but just because he could spare some money for a meal didn't mean it hurt to try and save some, and the menu claimed that the water was free. Jerome handed her the menu and turned his attention back to Helena, propping both elbows back up on the table and crossing his arms again, flattening his palms against the surface of the table. "So what is your job?" he asked her, his curiosity undimmed by the interruption of the waitress. "You work for the town, or do something else?" |
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Jerome Marshall - Felicia Soto Reyes - Annette Wood Filing Cabinet - NPCs | |
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| Ammy | Oct 5 2010, 12:30 AM Post #9 |
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[dohtml] <br><br> <table border="0" align=center height="400" width="500" background="http://i56.tinypic.com/efnp78.jpg"> <tr> <td> <div style="position:relative; width:220px; height:340px; right:2px; left:260px; top:10px; bottom:-7px; overflow:auto; padding:2px;"> <span style='font-size:10pt;line-height:100%'> [align=right] <br>Summer 12th, Year 08<br> around 12:10 pm<br> outfit[/align]<br><br> Helena looked up, opening her mouth to explain further. It was hard to remember that everyone didn’t just know she was a police officer on sight. The force was so small that even the shortest of memories could remember their faces. What? Her, Michael, and Rita? Two new recruits, whom would quickly become well-known faces. They were all characters, to be sure. Rita was a perky Irish lesbian, hard to forget that combination. Michael was, well, Michael. She wasn’t sure if his habitual seduction of random women were well known around town, but they were around the station. And then her, she couldn’t say what people thought her of, but hopefully they weren’t ‘Irish lesbian’ or ‘womaniser.’ Helena had this feeling she was seen as unapproachable by most of the town, something about her expression, perhaps? Or her height? Whether they thought she was stuck up or not didn’t matter so much as if they respected her. She fought hard to establish herself as a woman deserving of respect, of equal footing with her male companions.<br><br> If she lost that, she basically lost everything. Her career and her friends in one fell swoop.<br><br> She was interrupted by the waitress, delivering her tea, which Helena gladly took between her hands. Ah, tea. No matter what her ailment or mood, she could always drink it. The young woman sighed happily, pouring her milk into the smooth, white tea cup. To be frank, she could probably make better tea at home, not to mention her teacups were nicer. Helena glanced momentarily up, bangs sweeping in front of her eyes as she did. The pit of her stomach twitched a bit when she heard him mention food. And not just food, soup. Something about the English and hot liquids, so long as she had some bread to accompany it.<br><br> Attempting to keep her stomach quiet, Helena raised the tea to her chin, pausing for a moment to blow across the hot surface before sipping it. "So what is your job? You work for the town, or do something else?" “Mm,” she said through her tea, lowering the cup to the chipped plate on the table. She covered her mouth with a hand as she swallowed, before again allowing a slight smile to slide across her features. “To a degree, yes.”<br><br> In most towns the police were the government-run, here it was in part funded by the mayor, however she had a feeling that some of it was out of the captain’s pocket. “I’m a police officer,” she explained. The immediate reactions to this differed from person to person, very few doubted her, but some expressed surprise that someone who looked like her was working as a policeman. Perhaps she should take those comments as compliments, but she was always vaguely insulted by them. ”I was one back in England, as well, here it’s much slower than it was in London.” Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing she hadn’t decided quite yet.<br><br> ”... What do you do, then? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” </span> </div> </td> </tr> </table> [/doHTML] |
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| Lyse | Oct 11 2010, 08:59 PM Post #10 |
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Tea is a many-splendored thing~
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Jerome watched as Helena blew on her tea, noticing her clear enjoyment of the drink. Tea had never been his drink of choice--he wasn't much for anything caffinated, and when he did need an energy boost during long nights at the wheel, or two or three near-sleepless days into a project, he went for sodas and other sugary drinks--but it seemed appropriate for Helena. She was English, after all; it probably would have seemed odd to him if she had ordered anything else. He smiled back at her, with a touch of amusement at her polite mouth-covering gesture, and nodded encouragement as she started to explain her job. A police officer? Of course the town would have a police force; any town needed that. Jerome didn't stop smiling, but a slight, not-quite-conscious tension filtered into his shoulders at the title. He'd never had trouble with the police himself back in California, but he'd heard plenty of stories--from his parents, from newspapers and through the rumor mill--and very few had painted officers in a positive light. The adults in his community had never encouraged trust in the police, and he had known since his early teens that he was watched more closely when he went into town than any of the white kids from the group. He could still feel the uncomfortable prickly feeling up and down his back that he got whenever someone in uniform paused to watch him all the way down the street. Helena had looked him over when he sat down, he remembered now with bright clarity--but she hadn't given him one of the hard suspicious looks that made his spine itch, and she was friendly enough, if reserved. He'd taken her reserve for pure Englishness, and maybe it still was. Would an English cop even take any particular notice of him? Besides the fact that he didn't have the kind of manners Helena seemed to, but that was standard American. Jerome would have had to realize that he was tensing to relax, but he put more effort into his smile. "You mean less crime?" he asked, in response to her comment about Ocean of Stars being slower than London. "This place is way smaller than London. I'd be pretty worried if it had as much crime," he joked. Jerome brightened, straightening in his chair, when Helena asked about his job. "I'm a potter," he told her. "I make dishes, tiles, that sort of thing. Just got a shop set up, actually. Opens up this afternoon." He'd almost managed to forget about that, and as soon as he mentioned it he automatically looked up to check the time. Almost an hour left; he was probably fine. "I figured I should eat something filling beforehand," he added, with a vague gesture in the direction of the kitchen. He glanced at Helena's cup of tea. "You have lunch already, or just needed the caffiene jolt?" |
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Jerome Marshall - Felicia Soto Reyes - Annette Wood Filing Cabinet - NPCs | |
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| Ammy | Oct 17 2010, 06:45 PM Post #11 |
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[dohtml] <br><br> <table border="0" align=center height="400" width="500" background="http://i56.tinypic.com/efnp78.jpg"> <tr> <td> <div style="position:relative; width:220px; height:340px; right:2px; left:260px; top:10px; bottom:-7px; overflow:auto; padding:2px;"> <span style='font-size:10pt;line-height:100%'> [align=right] <br>Summer 12th, Year 08<br> around 12:10 pm<br> outfit<br> note;; could we end this soon? n___n[/align]<br><br> Helena honestly couldn’t believe Michael, at this rate she would have to go home and make her own lunch. No use in ordering it from here, the food was blummin’ expensive for what it was. It was good, but not the sort of thing you wanted to eat when your friend apparently abandoned your meeting time. No doubt he met a pretty girl on the way over. Resisting the urge to grumble, she trained her eyes back to her current companion. He was amiable enough, they hadn’t thrown food at each other yet, so that was something. She took her cup between her hands again, allowing the heat to seep into her fingertips. Despite the heat outside, Helena’s fingers always managed to be cold. The doctor suggested she had poor circulation, but other than cold fingers and toes, she never suffered from anything too disastrous.<br><br> Her eyebrows quirked, noticing Jerome stiffen ever so slightly. She shrugged, writing it off as stretching or simple switching of positions. There was no reason for her to think anything was wrong. The London police were generally well-trusted gentlemen, and ladies, the fact that guns were carried by only certain types of police may have helped matters. Why, she couldn’t say. As a policewoman she always felt much safer toting a gun. Though Northern Ireland they were mandatory, the Troubles being, well, troublesome. And dangerous. Something I’m well-acquainted with, she thought with the smallest of shivers.<br><br> Stop. Don’t want to get on that, not now. she spun the cup around, so the grasp was on the opposite side. “Well, crime and... everything,” she said with a shrug. “Everyone is always moving in London, it seems. Never much time to rest.” This island really reminded her more of Ballycastle, that tiny little town up in Northern Ireland. People moved slowly here, and were generally much more personable and friendly than they would be in any big city. If Jerome had wandered up and sat at her table in London, she would have wondered what the hell he wanted, and immediately ordered something cheap so she could claim being poor if he asked her for money. This island had less suspicion, and yet at the same time you were much more likely to notice someone walking beside you on the street. Perhaps a wave, a hello. You didn’t get that in London.<br><br> “A potter? Interesting,” she didn’t think they had one of those yet. Granted, she heard his profession and her first thought is wizard, but never mind. “Ahh, I suppose you do decorative pottery? I might have to drop by one day.” It was an interesting thought, anyway. Her room could always use a decorative vase or something. “Oh, ah, no I haven’t. I was waiting for my partner, but he apparently forgot we were meeting.” She said, sounding disgruntled. </span> </div> </td> </tr> </table> [/doHTML] |
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| Lyse | Oct 20 2010, 06:11 PM Post #12 |
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Tea is a many-splendored thing~
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Life on the island didn't seem much different in pace than the lifestyle Jerome was used to, but he could imagine that life in a big city like London was much faster. It didn't sound very attractive to him, but he figured there probably were some people who would get along just fine in that sort of environment. He nodded in acknowledgement at a little sympathy. He wasn't really sure how Helena felt about the slower pace, but assumed it had taken some adjustment, whether she liked it or not, and that was probably rough. Jerome nodded brightly in response to Helena's question. "I don't do pieces just for decoration, but I try to make them be useful and look good at the same time. And the vases and tiles probably count as decorative. I'm thinking about adding flowerpots later on, too." He had already come up with a whole list of new ideas for expanding his merchandise, when he got more shelving and display space. Some of them were things he'd made before under Juliana's tutelage, but some were objects he hadn't tried to make before, so he figured he'd have to do a few sample runs before he could produce anything worth selling, which would also put off their inclusion in the usual stock. It usually took him a couple of bad pieces before he got good at a new design even for an object he knew well, unless it was fairly simple, and whole new basic shapes generally took at least a batch or two. Sometimes his first thoughts on how pieces might fit together just didn't pan out. Helena's explanation earned a wince of sympathy; Jerome was a little embarrassed to have brought it up. He'd walked right into it, though, asking the question in the first place. Helena obviously wasn't pleased with her partner, and while it was with good reason, Jerome couldn't help feeling a touch of sympathy for the man, as well. Forgetting appointments was something he was pretty prone to himself, after all. Before he had to say anything awkwardly commiserating, though, the waitress reappeared, dropping off his soup and water. "Thanks," he told her, pulling the bowl a little closer and picking up his spoon. He hadn't been more than a little peckish when he arrived, quite far from the point where his stomach would start rumbling, but catching the smell of the soup quickly piqued his appetite. "That was fast," he commented to Helena, and took his first bite of the soup. It was as good as the smell had suggested, if a little heavy on the potato. Normally Jerome had no issues with talking with his mouth full, but he had the feeling that Helena wouldn't be impressed, and something about her own refined manners made him pay more attention to his. Besides, even if he still had time before he was supposed to be back at the shop, he didn't want to accidentally spend it all--he'd done that often enough, and was just nervous about the shop to be hyper-aware of that today. The soup went down fast, and the waitress showed up again with the check just as he was getting to the bottom of the bowl. "Hate to run off," he told Helena apologetically as he picked up the little slip of paper, "But I need to get over to the shop. Nice to meet you." With a last smile, he headed over to the register to pay his bill, and then out of the store. He had enough time not to rush down the path, at least, so he could take one last look at the waterfall as he left. |
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Jerome Marshall - Felicia Soto Reyes - Annette Wood Filing Cabinet - NPCs | |
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7:02 PM Jul 11