Harrington’s Pie and Mash 31/3/2015
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Harrington’s Pie and Mash 31/3/2015
sanctamater » the earth’s weight is pressed to her ribs .
WHAT SORT OF CHILD CONSIDERED COMFORT A HARM ? Weaned on nothing but POISON and little half truths. Pain spasming across world weary features as she melted; fingers pressed against wrist ever so lightly before withdrawing with nary a squeeze. The girl was FRAGILE: porcelain made to crack at the slightest tremor ( she could come out of the flames stronger. She could rebuild. ), the gentlest of breezes. Folded back in on herself like PAPER, hands fiddling with the fabric of her skirt, twisting like SERPENTS in her lap. Steely gaze fixated upon her ward and she took a breath, felt chest heave: baby steps. Baby steps. It will come in time. I WANT NOTHING SAVE FOR HER WELL-BEING. So she’d declared upon the stand, so she attempted to hold fast to. YOU WERE TAUGHT TO BE AFRAID OF THE WORLD: I AM GOING TO GIVE YOU THE BOOKS TO FLY. The choice is yours.
“And why should they bother you? Why should anything that they think or say hold you so?” Tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth, throat suddenly dry. I KNOW ABOUT WHISPERS. Spotlight and a magnifying glass turned on bright upon a child. “People will always talk, my dear. It just so happens there is… A lot of attention on you. Not all of it is good: that is how the world is. We can beat it, Johanna. Together.”
there’s a fleeting lull in her responses as she assesses the set of circumstances before her. she falls eerily quiet, her breathing finally beginning to regulate itself. such has been the way with johanna ever since the trial –– she would have periods of frenzy and fever, which would then be followed by spells of calmness and solemnity, and with virtually no warning as to when which bout would engulf her, even she was taken by surprise. it was no way to live, that was something that she had decided early on: and so she only grows more determined by the day to reverse the damage that her former guardian had caused. it’s easier said than done, however, and quite the toll has been taken already on the ward.
❛ it shouldn’t, i know that it shouldn’t bother me, but it’s so difficult. it’s difficult to ignore all they say and think when there’s so many of them. ❜ defeat has permeated her features already, weary words speaking volumes. yet just like that, the older woman’s resolve proves contagious, and the young blonde is slowly straightening, dewy eyes moving to catch amelia’s. gentle nod is given, with as much confidence that jo can muster. ❛ thank you. for everything that you’ve done for me. that you continue to do for me. ❜
sanctamater » the earth’s weight is pressed to her ribs .
“THEN YOU CANNOT. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU TRY.” Softly, gently; but not without STEEL. A seemingly infinite well of patience, of understanding, that had yet to be bled dry: she’d not let it. Why berate the girl for something that had been learned? TRAIN UP A CHILD IN THE WAY HE SHOULD GO, AND EVEN WHEN HE IS OLD HE WILL NOT DEPART FROM IT. Fingers gently wrapped around a frail wrist: found her pulse, felt it beat sure and fast and strong. “And perhaps one day, with enough trying, you will be able to do it. All you can do is try. And try again.”
A soft smile lingered upon expression; warming gunmetal eyes and the tired, but proud, way she seemed to carry herself; hand roving to squeeze the girl’s shoulder gently. “Take a deep breath, like this – “ Inhale, exhale; chest rising and falling with agonising slowness. “We can try together, yes?”
uncertainty fills her tearful gaze, jumping slightly at the contact made. she is bird - boned, a girl made of glass: yet when she realises it’s not a hostile gesture, one of ill intention, jo visibly relaxes. chest still aches as her heart races, but she is at least able to reassure herself that she is not in harm’s way. not now. she has only known the senator’s wife for a few weeks at most, yet she feels almost indebted to her. amelia has already done so much to help the lark wrap her head around the outside world, a feat johanna had only ever dreamed of in her early years.
❛ i’m ... i’m scared of what everyone might think. ❜ whispered is her response, as though ashamed of the fears that fester. the reaction of the general public and of the media has been entirely overwhelming for her, and it has not exactly been positive. she sometimes feels as though nothing has changed for her but the nature of her cage.
seraphids » a wounded deer leaps the highest .
a songbird’s cry ; no longer melodious tunes crooning from beyond gilded bars. they are frantic screeches , a caged bird sings in it’s own rebellion ; for it’s wings shall not embark but it’s song shall , maddening wishes ripped from the throat , prevailing as it’s freedom tantalizes so close , an outstretch ; SO CLOSE TO REACH ! they offer no solace , the words that leave her lips , for they are fruitless : too much or too little they belie the uncertainty dwindling in her gentle gaze ( she cannot bear to think , she herself has repeated those same words with guilt leaving acridity upon the tongue , a welling feeling of remorse festering within an ethereal soul : his smile would make the sun envious & she would soak in his warmth as one would the sun’s rays. viridian gaze , a boyish smile , memories of child laughter chimes evoked , violin melodies their lullaby. but the soul cannot be deceived. ) there is a veneer ‘pon your heart , it is constructed of glass . cracks visible on the surface , scratches on such a fragile thing , with fear all consuming , the cause of such imperfections mingled with stifled woes.
lithe digits interlock with hers , a comfort and consolation as she speaks her concern , genuine & released as a gentle lure ❛ it is not my place to judge nor speak of anthony , i do not know him nor do i believe there is a malicious intent in his body , nor is he capable of one. ❜ she begins , a drawl as slow as honey dripping from her maw at the momentary truncation of her speech. tongue darts to rewet lips , careful. oh so careful you must be , tentatively creeping where a predator prowls ; so quick to make herself the prey if it guarantees ones salvation. ❛ yet , i believe for your safety and to put your heart at ease , you should stay here. with me. amongst the opera you can easily blend and he shan’t find you. it will be like when we were younger ! ❜ gaiety coats her words , in hopes to turn a dour mood more jovial , shifting upon the duvet of her dressing room ; adorning a quirk of her lips in a soft smile ❛ think of it ! i do promise you will be safe and sound. i am making a solid oath to you. ❜
❛ do you really mean it ? ❜ breathless query is punctuated with the widening of bloodshot eyes , her hold on christine’s hands tightening more than she means to . she fears that it’s childish of her to believe so naïvely that turpin won’t be able to discover her , hidden in the opera house –– he finds her so easily in all of her nightmares , after all . yet there’s something convincing in the swede’s good nature : something almost contagious . a ghost of a smile comes to trembling lips , and for the first time in a long time , johanna feels an inkling of hope blossom in her chest . with an old friend by her side , and a charming sailor wanting only to help , why should she not finally feel comfortable ?
and just like that , everything suddenly spins on its heel , and she’s once again adopted an air of anxiety . ❛ but i would hate to endanger anybody ! you don’t know what he’s capable of . . . his power seems to know no end . i couldn’t bear it if any harm came to anyone here because of me . ❜ she has been trying so hard to fix herself . to put all the pieces of herself back together . a difficult task when she has no idea which pieces are missing anymore . ❛ i’m sure anthony has a plan for us . he has gotten us this far , hasn’t he ? ❜ the only person she’s speaking for now is herself , trying hopelessly and fruitlessly to reassure herself .
Babe, there’s something wretched about this Something so precious about this…
I was quiet, but I was not blind.
Jane Austen, Mansfield Park (via wordsnquotes)
❛ what if . . . what if i can’t do it ? ❜
voice is barely above a whisper as her stare practically bores a hole in the wall she faces , fingers wringing . a beat passes in silence , allowing for her nerves to heighten . strange , how she seems to have slept worse the past few days than the past sixteen years : she’s fearful that it’s all for a dream , for it’s certainly too good to be true !
it’s a minor task , johanna doesn’t doubt that , but she’s grateful that amelia is understanding –– and so generous , too . she didn’t know such kindness existed until they had met ! what scares her is what might happen to her when that kindness dries out . what then ?
blows @sanctamater a kiss even though i hate her !
Lindsey Stirling | Song of the Caged Bird
@starsmarked ( elizabeth ! ) » the girl is the flame .
she doesn’t mean to stare –– really , she doesn’t ! –– she knows how uncomfortable it can be , how the unwanted attention can get under a person’s skin . but she does it without meaning to sometimes , when someone interesting has caught her eye : accustomed is she to sitting up in her tower , gazing down at the people passing by ( far enough away so that they don’t quite realise she’s watching ) that it doesn’t dawn on her until observant eyes meet her own , and she quickly drops her gaze , heat suddenly spreading to her face in embarrassment .
❛ SORRY , I’M , UH . . . SORRY . ❜
@mortalspark » continued !
the crossed arms strain shortly; eyebrows raise too in something crossing in the middle of both a question and disbelief. the young woman went through enough trouble in the first stages of her life, without a doubt, and to hear her dream being vocalized like this … it saddens even a man like frederick, who barely has it in him to relate to others in an appropriate and well-nuanced manner. no matter that the phrasing tugs at the corner of his lips; nearly letting something reminiscent of a smile, a laugh, shine through.
“not to underestimate all the glory this daydream may hold, but wouldn’t you want something else? something more?”
it fails to cross her mind that such a statement might be alarming to most when considering the conditions in which she was raised : though johanna was simply trying to lighten the mood . realisation strikes at frederick’s response , and she gives a small chuckle of her own , cheeks reddening .
❛ well now , of course i do ! satellite tv is still quite a marvel , though , isn’t it ? ❜ laughter increases , fingers fidgeting with themselves . an odd daydream , perhaps –– but it’s one she experienced more often than anyone would like to know .
Do you ever become desensitized to your own trauma?? Like you’ve been dealing with it for so long that when you accidentally let it slip out in conversation and the persons like “um oh my god?” You’re like wow I forgot my life has been one unspeakable horror after another #noted
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seraphids· » a wounded deer leaps the highest .
WORDS DIE INTO UNSETTLING SILENCE , careful descry of her friend’s actions , the heave of her chest ; the quiver of her lip and indecisive motion of her eyes. oh you are trying to find refuge amidst demons which lurk with ferocity lively in their look & awaiting to grab with punctured claws , to ensnare the little bird who sings the laments of longing for freedom , a taste of salvation , a taste of deliverance from a wicked reality. but she has always turned to the holy sanctuary. a chapel where her father’s picture lay beneath a candle where she would be adamant to light the wick , to say her silent prayed woven in lachrymose whispers. to heaven above , for guidance , hope and faith restoring what little remnants of her remained when the dreadful hands of death snatched what she held dear , what made her whole. ( oh i know , i know. loneliness has consumed me before my salvation pulled me from the abyss ) when a taste of heaven was upon her lips , sweet as nectar and the hymnal of a voice so transcendent , so akin to divinity and the swelling of felicity upon her heart at her angel’s reveal , her angel’s sanctifying touch upon her weakening soul to rekindle & breathe life into it once bereft when father died ! her angel of music ! ( this childish fallacy . ) then i tore off the mask. then my savior turned into my horror. her demons shall be quieted , as she always has as she always will ; suffocate them into the chasm for Johanna’s needs are far more superior than her own woes , than her own sorrows.
HER HEAD INQUISITIVELY TILTS TO THE SIDE , truncation of speech she herself fills in with her own hushed drawl ❛ —— you feel unsafe. ❜ the lowest honeyed octave, more of a statement than a question as she nods slowly , wandering eye to nowhere in particular ❛ you are safe here i do give my word , there are many staff members and - and it is very easy to hide , the opera house is a labyrinth in some ways ❜ curvature of lips ascending , hoping her words are convincing to settle the uneasiness which pesters her soul
❛ do you trust anthony mon ami ? do you not believe he has your best interest ? ❜
A TRACE OF SHAME LINGERS IN HER EXPRESSION . why should she feel unsafe ? she has come so far from her prison in london , and she has arrived at her current destination in a better shape than what she was in leaving england . what cause is there for the unease that bubbles in her stomach and rises through her ribcage ? she knows the answer , yet refuses to give it any thought : out of sight , out of mind , out of options –– but not out of luck ! oh , how fortunate it is that she’s found christine . it seems so long ago that little johanna , perched in her window , gazed down at the young girl and her papa in the street , blessing her with their music and their company , no matter how brief .
and now , here they are once more : their circumstances vastly different from their first encounter , yet the ghosts of their younger years still linger nearby . how she hopes life has been more fortuitous for her companion !
christine’s inquiry startles johanna from her daze , and she practically jolts forward , clinging onto christine’s hand for dear life . ❛ but of course i do ! he is perhaps the most generous and noble person i know ! ❜ that may not make for the most convincing testament to his character , when one considers how few people the lark knows . ❛ he has shown me nothing but kindness and love . yet i . . . i can’t help but feel that something is wrong . ❜ voice almost wobbles as she finishes her sentence , and she prays christine won’t notice the slight tremor that runs through her hands : what a terrible burden she feels like !
@seraphids » a wounded deer leaps the highest .
OH WHAT AN AWFUL THING TO SAY ! the horrified gasp elicited sharp , punctuated it practically rakes her lungs with such a draw of breath. dolor mars her countenance , her heart so wary inclining her head to the side . allowing the silence to surround them in lieu of words , for they have evaded her. lower lip caught between rows of white in moment’s thoughts , in moment’s deliberation. she has clung to hope so vehemently , with trembling hands & fear it will slip through her fingers of porcelain. but no she is stubborn , she looks to the heavens for guidance & at times feels abandoned. but yet she smiles , yet she remains the dawn on the impending darkness to peer and befall the lands. perhaps she could rekindle any form , any sliver of hope which cowered in the recesses due to cruelty in her dear friend. nectar upon her tongue she shan’t speak ill , nor match her words with contempt , no it would be unfair. and hasn’t life been terribly unfair to her already , to both of them ? ( songbirds who sing their longing of freedom ! no matter how handsome the cage of confinement they ache. oh but the strings of the heart are being pulled taut. the song in my throat is debilitating. )
FORTUITY OF THEIR PATHS FORGED TO MEET , it must be so , oh perhaps father has sent her this blessing ! young ingénue places her hand on the other , the gentlest of smile , the softest of dulcet tones ❛ do not think such a thing. suffering is temporary but we learn and grow from it ❜ ( liar. liar ! ) her thoughts sneer , they taunt , lingering in the borders of her mind. you suffer with every passing day . you only hide it. time does not heal. ENOUGH CHRISTINE ! ❛ i give you my word , i solemnly swear i will protect you. i will hide you , we have a vast array of costumes , he will not find you mon ami. i swear this to you. but do not condemn God nor the heavens for the wickedness that roams this earth —— ❜ for they are my only hope.
she is unaware of the blasphemy that flows freely from her lips until her empty gaze falls upon christine’s horrified expression . she had been raised on religion , on tales of sinners and the retribution they received : all fire and brimstone . as a young girl she believed blindly –– obeyed the judge in the hope that she might be permitted to play with the children that ran amuck beyond the mansion gates , or take a stroll in the park across the way . she soon learned that to expect anything more from him than a slap across the face or , in her later years , a nauseating leer , was simply childish thinking . no , religion has been of no comfort to her in her life : how could she believe in there being a greater good when she has been wronged so often , and by a man so pious as turpin pretended to be ?
SHE VOICES NONE OF THIS . she bows her head instead , almost as though to apologise to christine for speaking ill of her beliefs . ❛ your kindness knows no bounds . ❜ she manages a small smile , gently squeezing the hand that rests upon her own . how the swede manages to holds such a buoyant perspective , johanna doubts she will ever know . her chest heaves with a heavy sigh , and she can feel the heaviness that has lingered there for the longest time begin to fall away . ( is she foolish for allowing her guard to fall ? will she ever truly escape her cage , or will its furnishings simply adapt ? )
❛ i really cannot thank you or your madame giry for offering me refuge here . anthony would prefer i stay with him , but i . . . ❜ her voice trails off as her attention is lost : she can feel herself fading from the conversation at the very thought of her former guardian .