there's a girl with flowers in her hair

Charlotte Soames. Nineteen. Former orphan turned (something of a) lady. Snack Connoisseur. ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ “There is no love sincerer than the love of food.” ― George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman

[harry-kirkwood-blog]

Folks Back Home || Harry & Charlotte

[harry-kirkwood-blog]

Harry grimaced, and cast his eyes down. He was not equal to this woman, in breeding or bearing. The more she spoke, the more quickly it became clear. He did not think that she meant to laugh at him—she was smiling, or trying not to smile, but it was not quite cruel. (She was too well-bred to be cruel.) She was trying to be kind. He still burned with the discomfort of knowing himself not to be quite up to snuff. He fidgeted, still drumming up the words. 

The book, with the letter, slipped away from him, and tumbled to the ground beneath the bleachers, thumping resolutely when it hit gravel. Harry, caught by surprise, cursed aloud, and then cursed again because the damn woman was standing right there. Harry levered himself to his feet and crouched between the rows, straining to collect the book. A flutter of paper had told him the letter had drifted away.  He did not know immediately where. 

“How do you not know,” Harry muttered, not quite able to stop himself, searching for the letter. The book he recovered almost instantly. It had not fallen far. Harry disengaged himself from the bleachers and picked his way carefully downward. “Where did it go? Da—”

Harry stopped himself in time. Somewhere, Peggy was applauding, slowly, one eyebrow raised. Each clapped echoed in his bright red ears.

The letter had floated an extraordinary distance (for a letter), coming to rest at the snack lady’s feet. Harry blinked. He stared at the woman; he stared at the letter. He pressed his lips together tightly, holding in every word until he had something polite to say. “I’ll show you where, then, miss,” he mumbled, feeling that this was the only really decent way to apologize for everything.

[charlotte-soames]

Everything that happened at once - the book dropping, the piece of paper fluttering away and then the curse word (or words, rather) - caught her by surprise and she had to stop herself from laughing in surprise again. Her short time at circus and being away from her mother's watchful eye had unraveled seven years of etiquette training, and her old street urchin ways making a fearsome comeback after being suppressed for so long.

Just because she wasn't horribly offended by the fact that he had left several curse words out of his mouth, Charlotte still coloured a little bit at the fact that he had made. It was true. She had been here for months and she still couldn't find her way around without getting lost. It was a little bit shameful, even if she did try to brush and laugh it off. Whether or not he had intended for her to hear it though, she wasn't entirely sure. Charlotte tried to smile a little bit as she tried to scrounge up an excuse that didn't sound as feeble as it did in her mind. "Well, I suppose my sense of direction was never very -," she started just as he began to speak again.

Her gaze looked at him curiously to see what had stopped him mid-word, but it didn't take very long when she gazed down at her feet. The piece of paper that he had in his lap mere moments before had floated somehow to her feet. Charlotte looked back up at him who seemed to be staring at her and then at the letter and it was then that she felt a little nervous although she couldn't quite say why. It was like she had been caught red-handed stealing something even though that wasn't the case here. She quickly picked up the letter, just as he relented and she took several steps towards him, the piece of paper still held in her hand. "You really don't have to if it's going to inconvenience you. I'm already causing enough trouble as it is." 

[charlotte-soames]

Pichelsteiner - Also known as a very popular German meat stew that can be traced back to a 100 years ago. It's a hearty stew that was essentially crafted for outdoor cooking. Chop up all your ingredients, throw them in the pot, and they'll all cook nicely together until you're ready to eat them! Pork, beef and mutton are diced and thrown in, followed by essentially any kind of vegetable you like! Charlotte added a lot of celery, carrots, brussel sprouts, peas, potatoes and leeks that she bought from the farmer's market.

[charlotte-soames]

Circus Girls | Hester & Charlotte

[hester-griggs]

“I swear my loyalty to you and to you alone, my liege.” She made an exuberant curtsey and straightened up, smiling a smile that was alight with mischievous laughter. The young girl was often in charge of her own entertainment, so she managed to squeeze enjoyment out of every situation she possibly could.

Hester smiled when Charlotte promised to banish such thoughts from her mind. Hester sought to see those she cared about were actually happy. She hated to see their hearts broken and their minds full of unease. It was so important that she was able to provide goodness in the lives of those she cared about.

“I have stories, surely, but no tact or discretion on the proper way of presenting them. I always ruin my own stories.” She smiled widely. “So, I’ll skip the murder and dissembling of my story and jump to the part where I just reveal the important part.” With a brilliant, beaming smile, she withdrew the olive-colored, delicate ribbon and thrust her arms forwards, holding it before Charlotte. “Ta-da! For you!”

(OOC NOTE : Sorry about the lateness and the shortness of the post. I’m tryin to get back in the groove))

[charlotte-soames]

Charlotte's nose wrinkled as she spoke in an attempt to look cross and haughty like she had seen plenty of society women do. It had been a look that she and the other orphanage children had managed to perfect. After all, it was rather easy when you saw it at least once every day. "I should hope so!" she sniffed, "If I hear so much as a single hint of treason, it'll be off with your head!" Her sternness didn't last long in the least bit though, and she was reduced to smiles soon after.

"That's why we leave story telling to the experts, right?" she asked with a hearty laugh. Her own stories had often got lost in the din of her going off on tangents, only expanding the stories and making everyone rather exhausted by the end of it. She knew very few people who were able to put up with how she told them, but anyone who did certainly had a special place in her heart. Charlotte would have teased Hester more about the fact that murder sounded dreadfully fascinating, but her eyes flickered up from her task of slicing lemons and limes just in time to see the delicate flutter of ribbon held out to her in Hester's hands.

Her mouth fell open in a small little 'o', and her hands stopped moving as they reached for another lemon. She placed the knife down on the cutting board, patting her citrus soaked hands on her apron as she crossed the very small space between she and where Hester sat. It was marvelous ribbon and the light bounced off it, making it shine like a strange, rare copper. Most would have thought that someone who had lived in luxury for the past six years had gotten used to it by now, but that simply wasn't the case. Charlotte was still overwhelmed, even shy about spending money on lavish things. She despised spending money on herself because it never felt right. Gifts were even worse because they often made her embarrassed. But this, oh this was absolutely wonderful. She reached out a hand but hesitated, drawing it back.

"Oh, Hester. Really? Is it really for me? Oh, darling, you didn't have to!"

[harry-kirkwood-blog]

Folks Back Home || Harry & Charlotte

[harry-kirkwood-blog]

Harry looked up. A brown-haired girl, a vendor—the snack vendor, he recollected, because even the food here was somehow a bloody miracle—stood just a few feet below him. Your face, Harry, by God. He nearly could hear Peggy chiding him. It was likely he was scowling, a fierce, deep wrinkle carved between his brows. It had been suggested years beforehand by one sibling or another (in this case he was thinking the culprit was likely to be Charly, prior to his protracted misunderstanding with the law) that the lack of a beard might improve first impressions, and so he had dutifully tried this. The Kirkwoods immediately and unanimously decided that this had been a mistake. The experiment was never repeated.

“Eh? What?” he said, resting his hands on his knees. The letter and the book it rested on wobbled, balancing now on his thigh. Harry squinted at her, trying to make out her expression. He had never spoken to this woman—she was new, or so they told him. Her voice and tone made him nervous. He suspected that she was likely an educated young lady of good society, since the circus took all sorts for every reason under the sun. 

Harry couldn’t have told her if he was busy or not. Mariana was always absurd, Sophie always tired and ill-used, her children always into trouble. His letter would not make much difference (the money might.) It could easily be written tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day. His work was simple. Whatever he did could always be done later, however he might try to keep himself occupied. Lacking anything useful to say, Harry leaned onto his elbow, still squinting hard. 

“What do you want?” Harry growled. His voice was rough. The cigarettes had done that, hand-in-hand with the long years. He was forgetting something, he realized. “Miss,” he corrected. “What do you want, miss.” 

[charlotte-soames]

When he first replied, she knew that she had disturbed him at the wrong moment. He had been in the middle of something, that much was clear now that she was closer to him and could see a piece of parchment paper perched precariously on top of a book, a pen held in his hand. A letter? Or perhaps a journal entry? She had seen more than several members of the circus scribbling away, or keeping a small journal of some sorts recording all assortments of things. Charlotte had journals of her own, but they were mostly her scattered thoughts and filled with page upon page of her loopy writing describing recipes that she had run across or her own creations. But it was a singular page. Perhaps he was a writer?

She hadn't seen him before, but then again, that didn't really account for anything - Charlotte didn't know very many other circus members at all. It had only seemed that in a short several months, news of her tiny food stall and the creations she made had spread and she had even less time to explore and meet people. It was rather disappointing, she supposed, but she couldn't complain. Her work was something that she lived for and she knew that she would much rather be there than in London being shuffled around and being courted. Regardless whether or not she knew of him or had seen him, he was obviously a circus worker. He was here before hours after all!

Just as she was about to go on and explain, his gruff response made her blink and enough for her posture to stiffen ever so slightly. What was more curious about her reaction was the slight splutter of laughter at his hurried, tacked on 'Miss' at the end of his response. She could practically hear her mother sniffing at his lack of manners, and her governess narrowing her steel gray eyes at the man, but Charlotte was just amused. It reminded her so much of when she had first started her etiquette lessons how a stern, but dainty cough, would remind her to use the other fork or to dip her curtsey a little bit lower. She could hear it now in fact, and she quickly sucked in her lips in an attempt to not appear rude.

"I was just hoping you could give me some directions back to the living quarters," she said after a quick clearing of her throat, willing her smile away but it was being mischievous and the corners of her lips still curled. "I'm a bit lost," she finished with a bit of an embarrassed wince.

[charlotte-soames]

Bazaar Exploration | Charlotte and Poppet

[poppet--murray]

Poppet smiled, “Oh, I know you!” she exclaimed. “You set up by my stage sometimes, don’t you? It always smells so good but I’d have to loop around with a coat to avoid being seen as a performer and it’d be such a hassle but I keep meaning to try something…” she trailed off, noticing her rambling. 

“I’ve, um, I’ve looked around a little. Haven’t bought much. I’ve got plenty of spare change now, but I think I still think a little like a street urchin and cringe at spending even a penny, but I can’t seem to resist something pretty.” Poppet laughed. 

[charlotte-soames]

A happy little blush spread onto her cheeks at the recognition. She was normally stuck up in her booth, but she had managed to luck out and set up right across from one or two performances that where she could catch a glimpse of at the rare break. Being known for her cooking was the best compliment anyone could give her. "Oh, if I had known I would have stopped by to give you some sooner!" She had received several requests already to have some food packed and saved for after hours and she had been more than happy to do so. "I would hate to see anyone go hungry. Do let me know next time, won't you, Poppet? I'll make you anything you'd like!"

"I know what you mean," Charlotte replied with a laugh of her own. After living thirteen years with nothing more than several pennies to her name, it was strange suddenly realizing that her parents were willing to buy her gowns and ribbons that she had only glimpsed from windows. "I think it's alright to indulge every so often though. And you never know when we'll come here again, if we come at all." She bit her bottom lip slightly in concern. "I'm afraid speaking like that though, my poor purse may be horribly lighter at the end of this trip." 

[harry-kirkwood-blog]

Folks Back Home || Harry & Charlotte

to dear Mariana—

I have enclosed for Sophie a little money please tell her this is for my part of Eliza’s wedding gift there were no spoons in Calcutta and God in Heaven only knows what our sister would use a monkey for. Would a stein for her parlor table be acceptable or useful? I do not know what married women put on parlor tables anymore. (Does she have a parlor now? or just a best room?)

Now that I have settled that matter sufficintly I insist that you sever your connection with Matthews as I am more than ever convinced of his dubious character (which cannot lead to your happiness) particularly a man to whom you intimate will propose to you (or worse will never propose to you because you are forever divided by a chasm of hopeless impossibility which I remark that it is to blame solely on the fact that he is a poet and an artist who has decided not to make any use of himself! of all things to set your cap on Mariana!!) 

Harry Kirkwood grunted. He was alone in the tent, sitting and smoking on the bleachers, scribbling out a few lines before night fell and his work began. His opinion on his sister’s new beau had become passionate, and now he could not find the end of the point he’d been making. He stuck a hand under his cap to scratch his scalp, possibly to stimulate his brain into making a little more coherent sense. He did not need to see Matthews (or Mayhew, he could not remember and would not do the man the courtesy of getting his name right on purpose) or talk to him, or anything at all but read (and interpret) his sister’s disturbing account of the man’s behavior. He drummed the butt of his pen against the edge of the book he was using as a writing desk. 

There is a class of people, Mariana, who do not consider the fealings of any body but their own sordid worldly selves and cannot provide the sort of lasting affection you wish for because they aren’t capable of it. Assuming he means to marry you. What you will find him doubtlessly capable of is crossing that chasm, not to marry you but

Harry hastily crossed out that last, carefully obscuring every evidence. It had taken a turn that neither Mariana nor Sophie (or the younger ones, who would probably hear portions of his letter) would appreciate. Mary Ann Kirkwood was almost twenty-five, but still as innocent as a maid (her own words.) Her consistent association with horrible, ‘redeemable’ men proved this, at least, to him. 

He scratched at his beard, now irritated by every thought. Harry breathed smoke. The red ember burned down almost to his fingers; Harry cursed aloud, dropping the offending item and crushing it violently under his boot-heel. He supposed he would have to clean that before the patrons and the reveurs appeared. Harry had no idea who would be performing in here, but almost everyone drew a crowd. He sat in silence, dully staring at the bright white ring before him, trying to conjure with the one thing that would convince his sister to give up her poet (and coming up with nothing.)

[charlotte-soames]

Charlotte hurried along the inner workings of the tents, picking up her skirts as high as decency would allow. She had fallen asleep in her stall during the day after her prep for that night and had woken up to see that she was going to be very, very late if she didn't hurry back to her own tent to ready herself. Her hair was a mess, brown locks escaping the hastily done bun that she had pinned it into prior to her brisk walk (because lady's did not run, she heard her governess's voice echoing in the back of her head) back to her tent. She must have looked quite a sight, but appearances had never quite mattered very much to her in the past much to the dismay of her mother. Whatever her free hand was doing with the bobby pins she had plucked from her hair and was currently in the process of sticking back in would have to do. 

With Berlin being the sixth location that she had traveled to with the circus, Charlotte had become a bit more used to the layout of the tents and back alley ways to the vendors and performer's living quarters. She rarely had to stop and think about where she was going anymore - a fact that she was extremely proud of and had crowed about it as much to Lily and Hester. A part of her had been very worried she would never have gotten the hang of it, and yet here she was, winding her way through the tents as if she had been there for more than several months. 

...Or perhaps she had spoken too soon. A crease appeared between her brow as she exited one section of tents to another. Well this wouldn't do in the least bit. Her feet stilled, the hand clutching her skirt dropping and going to quickly pin the rest of her fallen hair up as she surveyed her surroundings and shifted the wicker basket in the crook of her elbow that held all her knick knacks. Had she taken a wrong turn? Should she have taken the right path instead of the left? Or maybe she had missed a turn? Bugger her lack of direction. Not a soul was in sight and she let out a sigh as she picked the first tent to her left at random, hoping that someone would be in there. 

Luck was on her side when she saw the figure sitting among the bleachers and she hurried over, only to falter a little bit in her step when the person suddenly threw the cigarette he'd had in his mouth under the heel of his boot. It wasn't that she was shy, but she certainly didn't wish to disturb him. Charlotte would have turned back, but it was too late and she was already at the foot of the bleachers. "Excuse - pardon me?" she started a bit cautiously, slipping into a way that she reserved strictly for speaking to strangers or those she was meeting for the first time. "Sir? I don't mean to be a bother, or rather, if you are busy I can leave..."

[e--bennett-blog]

Beads of Memory || Ella & Charlotte

[e--bennett-blog]

          Casual encounter slowly reverted into an orchestra of thoughts. Exchanged ideals constructing a new perception of Here & There. Deep pools of painted wood bore themselves into the very core of her existence, perhaps in an attempt to study her, delve into her world. Ghostly traces of what ought to be a smile hovered above frozen lips. A hint of u n c e r t a i n t y, a subtle flash of gratification - all smeared across motionless doll. Brief conversation tugging out concealed truths. Rarely did Ella permit herself such freedom while talking,and rarely did she enjoy someone’s company. Splendid fingers manoeuvred thin strings - puppet audaciously taking a step closer. Nameless creature had been granted a name - honour coursing through still veins. How wonderful it was - how utterly delightful !               “Ah-..! Adrian is such a lovely name. Perfect.” Genuine response to doubtful suggestion. Peculiar. Mysteriously enigmatic. “Now, allow me to revive our previous topic, princess. You say people should pay attention, right? And I can’t help but nod at how right you are! It’s unfortunate that humans disregard details, no? After all, the minute things create the ultimate perfection. Trivial matters give significance to everything. Am I wrong? Without them, our world would truly be a dreadful place, yet  with each passing day, humanity is plunging deeper into a hopeless abyss of pure ignorance. How truly crude they are! They willingly agree to doom us all, and how tragically beautiful our end will be. I shudder at the enticing taste of the words spoken, I kneel before the power we possess - a power long lost and forgotten. Enchantingly agonizing end.” Velvet voice aligned hushed concepts on a ribbon of black. Mental bells chimed lightly in tilted cranium, bringing forth dark themes.            “Ah, I got carried away.” Hard extremity met wooden forehead - posing for the unwelcome guest. “Excuse me, my dear. I tend to drift away into my own little secluded area when it comes to such things. I’m quite .. emotional. Let’s put it that way.” Previously blank expression gained some sort of brilliance. The confrontation with this girl had actually unlocked that dusty chamber Ella only opens for special occasions. Surprise, laced with something akin to warmth, managed to surface on her own immobile countenance - how very unexpected. Glaring pearls peeking through roseate folds quickly disappeared. Gaze pinned on the dimly-lit figure below her, Ella quietly mused about the female. Maybe she should befriend her, or maybe - a more reasonable choice - she should simply remain hidden by the perpetual darkness of her realm. 

[charlotte-soames]

"I'm very glad you think so," Charlotte replied, genuinely relieved that the puppet didn't mind the name in the least bit. For someone that truly didn't mind what others thought about her strange behaviour or love for food, she found herself caring much more than she should in situations such as these (never mind that it was a puppet that she was speaking to). It was a mystery, but she rarely dwelled on the fact. There was barely any time to either. She was all but swept away as the figurine on stage continued on, saying words that her brain had to leap to keep up with, dizzying itself as it tried to make sense and piece together everything that was being said. It wasn't in the bad way though. Not in the least. Charlotte was practically buzzing with interest and curiosity.

It was only when the puppet came to a halt, and politely apologized that Charlotte shook her head, rushing to reassure him that that there was no offense taken in the least for carrying on on such a topic. "Oh, there isn't any need to apologize in the least, Adrian," she said with a smile. "I think it's wonderful that you feel so strongly about topics like that. I feel like society isn't quite as insightful as you are about it." She had sat in on her fair share of debate during lazy afternoons where the rain was pouring so hard outside that the only means of entertainment lay in the reading room or parlor of her home. It was normally a fine way to spend and afternoon, but to be honest, Charlotte would have preferred to be held up in the kitchen if some of her father's friends had come to pay a visit and had been held up by the downpour. They could debate for hours on end on any sort of societal topic, she thought. It never ceased to amaze her how they didn't seem to run out of words or thoughts to say. 

"But I do think that it depends on what sort of details people seem to miss," she went on, her thoughts lingering to the lady's of society. "Some people seem to pay attention to some of the silliest things!" For example, how many stitches had she completed (or in most cases, missed) while she having her embroidery inspected by her governess. That was a topic that didn't seem particularly relevant to Charlotte, but others certainly didn't think that. She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, but at the same time still trying to catch a glimpse of the skillful master behind the strings. "Do you often engage in conversations like this, Wonderlandian?" 

[charlotte-soames]

Circus Girls | Hester & Charlotte

[hester-griggs]

Hester smirked at Charlotte’s words, her eyes shining with the ghost of childish delight, though she was no longer a child. She was surely a woman, even if she did not behave as a lady. But Hester saw two very different meanings to the words - one did not have to be one to be the other, necessarily. There were many ladies who had not yet reached womanhood, and there were women (like her) who were not yet ladies. (Though, if she were being scandalously honest, she did not ever foresee herself being much of a lady - and she preferred it that way.)

“Of course I haven’t!” she said lightly. “They’ve all learned from your mistake. You feed me once, and I return, just like a stray mongrel! They wouldn’t dare risk it.” She laughed jovially, always thrilled to place herself on the outside of good society, where she happily felt she belonged. “You’d never lose me, my friend, so put all thoughts of it out of that head of yours!” She grinned, for it was true. She could not see herself forgoing her helpful and pleasant alliance with the Soames woman. She liked her too much.

Charlotte motioned her inside and, despite the heat, Hester plunged into the stall. She had become quite hardy in her time. While on the road, she could not always guarantee she had somewhere comfortable to sleep. She had slept outside, atop the train, and in even in a crate that had once held some sort of circus animal. She had been piteously ill-dressed in both freezing and arid weather alike. She had gone without food, water, and shelter. A bit of unwanted heat would bother her minimally.

“I’m not a story-teller, alas,” Hester said. “I always jump to the punchline. No, best to skip to the point of the story, I think, though I can do so over a drink, certainly!” Hester was a riddler of sorts, but she never did enjoy telling stories. She found herself to impatient with words to enjoy telling a story, though she loved hearing them - part of this was why she so enjoyed listening to Oscar.

Charlotte commanded her, in the gentlest of way, to get comfortable and Hester did just that, embracing the mess and extracting the first stool she could find, settling upon it with the pleasure of someone happy to find rest anywhere. Though the stall was warm, at least there was a break from the sun. “It sounds absolutely wonderful!”

[charlotte-soames]

She clasped her hands to her chest dramatically with a laugh as she Hester spoke. "Well I think that they're certainly missing out at such an excellent critic! It just means that my food gets to improve tenfold with you here." As much as Charlotte was joking, a part of her was very serious. The food she made was a mere imitation of what the locals she borrowed the recipes from could create. It was magic watching them, and she could never imagine doing half of what they could. Of course, she did what she could to honor the original dish: buying the same ingredients, sticking to the local way of preparation as much as she could and serving it in a way that could be enjoyed by everyone. That was the point of what she did. She didn't want to change something that wasn't broken to begin with.

But not even Charlotte, who was an adamant lover of food and everything that it stood for, could abide by her own rules. She experimented with other local spices, with other ways to serve and prepare it. Conventional was not in her nature and she very much doubted it ever would be. "I promise I'll do my best to rid my head of those thoughts though," she promised, a slim finger drawing a quick cross across her heart before she turned back to her gathering and bustling. Her hands quickly groped above blindly at the shelves that lined the walls and a juicer was soon found, as she pulled the small device down. This stall may as well have been her second home, and it certainly held a very 'Charlotte' charm as she had been told. Everything there was organized chaos. Pots and pans and cutlery and cooking devices were littered in their spots. A knife was soon extracted from the towering pile of pans and she deftly sliced the citrus fruits, pushing up her sleeves before getting to work squeezing the juice out of them. 

A small pout formed on her lips as she turned to look at the younger girl. "Oh, I don't believe that's true in the least!" she protested. "You seem like the type of soul that has plenty of stories to tell. It's just a matter of seeing who will listen to them." Charlotte adored listening to stories almost as much as she adored reading them. Growing up in the orphanage, she had been one of the few children who could read. The beat up, musty books that the nuns did manage to give them had been read more times than she could remember, and upon being adopted, she had been beyond delighted when she realized that her father had a very well stoked library. But listening to stories were just as exciting for her. "Give me a hint at the very least," she pleaded, suddenly becoming impatient to hear what the other had to tell her. 

[charlotte-soames]

Bazaar Exploration | Charlotte and Poppet

[poppet--murray]

Poppet smiled, pleased that this girl enjoyed her show. “You can call me Poppet, really. No need for formality from a fellow performer,” she said, trying to sustain only a polite smile and not the proud grin she felt inside. In truth, she enjoyed compliments on her performance more than anything. Tell her her beauty was more radiant than the sun and her intelligence was greater than that of ten men, and she’d smile and thank you, but simply inform her that her show was so much as nice and she’d hold the compliment dear to her heart for months, and gain a a newfound spring in her step because of it. 

Though, to tell the truth, Poppet had very little idea who this Charlotte was. She’d seen her hanging around the Circus in all black and white, but she’d never seen her act, nor had she heard much about her, other than that Charlotte was another Londoner like a large portion of the performers. 

[charlotte-soames]

"If you insist," she replied even though a part of her was very pleased that she was being given permission to call the red headed girl by that name. She knew that last names were formal and meant as a sign of politeness, but after living so long without such rules being enforced, it had taken her ages to break out of the habit. "I'm afraid I'm not so much a performer as I am a food vendor though," she admitted with a shy laugh. "I don't have nearly enough coordination or talent for an act. I'd much prefer to cook." 

She motioned to the basket which was an array of colour, hoping that it would explain or at least make some sense to the girl as to why her shopping basket was filled to the brim with things other than the beautiful sari's and fabrics that lined the streets. "Have you been out exploring long?" she asked, changing the subject. "I'm afraid I've only spent time in here so I haven't had any other chance to look around!" 

[recipeheaven]

[charlotte-soames]

Cheese & Roasted Vegetable Baked Manicotti Recipe - Although it looks like canneolloni pasta, manicotti pasta is much larger and generally stuffed full with ricotta cheese, vegetables and occasionally veal before being topped with Italian white bechamel. This particular recipe is stuffed with grilled vegetables and topped with a generous amount of pasta sauce and cheese. It's commonly served throughout Sicily. 

[charlotte-soames]

Circus Girls | Hester & Charlotte

[hester-griggs]

Charlotte was one of those odd people who always seemed so sincerely happy to see her. It was simply not what Hester was used to. She did not have a problem with being relatively unwanted; she could understand why. She stole from people, so most people looked at her as a potential threat to their goods and reputation. She fully respected people’s choice to judge her on her career choice. But there had been little options for her. A poor family, a bad father, no mother… Hester could be doing much more indecent things to make a living. However, she could understand the merit in the good and decent people’s disdain.

And Charlotte was everything good and decent, yet she seemed to have some sort of affection for Hester that the younger girl could not understand nor fathom, so she did not try too. That pleasant disposition had always puzzled her, anyway. She had only ever seen the dirty evil of the world, so it was hard for her to look on any part of it (beyond this circus) with the happiness Charlotte managed to. And yet, Charlotte’s manner seemed so authentic, unaffected, and easy. Though Hester was baffled by happy people, and often wary of them, this about Charlotte made her ever fonder of the woman.

And, of course, the food was a perk. The way to Hester’s heart was a warm meal.

So deep were affectionate thoughts of the woman, that she did not notice the shifting of the cart, and was caught quite unawares as the back door was thrown open and her name was called. As a reflex, she moved her hand into one of the pockets she had sewn into all of her dresses, tipping the chain inside. It was not as if she were trying to keep Charlotte ignorant to what she did - Charlotte knew, and she was one of the few who did not seem to judge. But Hester pined to think she may ever put one of the people she was fond of in a position where the authorities came to them for information on her. It was simply not a place to put one’s friends in. The best to do was to involve Charlotte as minimally as possible.

“Charlotte!” she cheered back, hoping to cover up the hiding of the chain, though she was almost certain she had not been quick enough - this time. The woman immediately began to fret over her. Hester imagined that, if she had an elder sister, she would speak the way Charlotte did. So kind. So worried.

“The sun has done me wonders. My hair is not quite so long as it was last summer, so it is nice to have practical reason for the length.” Many had thought her hair too short for someone approaching womanhood, but it was nice for her pickpocketing gimmicks - and the weather was perfect for it. She had eaten a little earlier -  but she was hungry, naturally. She was always hungry. She was very far from starving, however, and it was only then that she forced herself to impede on the kindness of others. “I won’t turn my nose up at a meal, but it’s a drink that I’d appreciate the most. I’ve eaten today, actually. I’ve been doing well for myself. So well, in fact, that I have wealth to spare.” She withdrew something from her pockets and hid it behind her back, hoping to spur Charlotte into asking her meaning.

[charlotte-soames]

Charlotte let out a mock gasp, but her eyes were crinkled with delight and teasing even as she spoke. "Don't tell me you've found someone else who feeds you," she started before losing her act completely. Those things never tended to last very long, besides. "I may have to find a new taste tester if that's the case, but I'm afraid it would be a terrible shame to lose my best one." The young woman may have fed plenty of circus members and coerced them into playing taste testers for her, but she wasn't without her favourite ones. Either that, or whenever she cooked or tried out her new dishes, they tended to find her first. She'd jokingly claim that it was their noses and stomachs that led them to her. If she were being honest though, she wouldn't have it any other way. Some of the people that she was closest with at the circus had met her that way but it had been more than the food that had sparked and built up those friendships. 

Her eyes did light up a little curiously at the movement because it wasn't without her notice. She had to admit, that she had quite the curious personality. Both the nuns at the orphanage and her parents had said she had a nose for trouble and that there was the possibility of it completely ruining her chances of something or other one day. Curbing the appetite had done little else but make Charlotte restless though, so she had learned how to control it and allow it to exist in her finely structured world. The skill was perhaps the only lesson of hers that had stuck at the end of it all. That being said, she motioned for the younger girl to follow her into the stall, pushing the door open wide revealing the mess inside, but allowing the delicious aroma to spin from the confines of the enclosed space. "Wealth to spare? Well, Miss Griggs, I would be ever so delighted to hear about this tale over a drink," she teased. 

The cart was still a mess of course, but she bustled about, clearing the mess of things off the tiny table she had managed to squeeze in there with a sweep of her arms. "Make yourself at home," she said over the clatter of pots and pans as she placed the armful of dishes into the sink. "I think the stools are under the pile of notebooks and bobbles somewhere." Her slim hands quickly found the pitcher that she kept hidden up amongst the shelves before she went to the basket that perched precariously on top of another counter that was filled with lemons, limes and oranges. "How does the local's version of lemonade sound to you?" 

[in-my-mouth]

[charlotte-soames]

Arancini with Pancetta and Basil - These are rice balls coated with breadcrumbs. Generally stuffed with ragu, tomato sauce, mozzarella and peas but the fillings vary as well as the shape! A rather popular street food and thought to have originated in Sicily.

[charlotte-soames]

Bazaar Exploration | Charlotte and Poppet

[poppet--murray]

Underneath Poppet’s dress, she wore only a pair of very thin bloomers, a cotton slip, and a single petticoat. Suffice it to say, her fall was sufficiently mortifying. She righted herself quickly and  brushed the colored spice off of her dingy white dress. It was an old performance outfit made for hot weather, but her Spartan diet caused her to lose more and more weight, often affording her a positively waifish appearance, so the thin cotton hung loose on her thin frame.

Trying to remain composure despite the deep blush on her pale cheeks, Poppet only nodded in recognition, righting the simple straw bonnet tied with blue ribbon she wore to protect her face from the sun. She kept as pale as she could, aiming, perhaps too ambitiously to “glow like the moon at night.” To better keep her hands free to browse, she had neglected a parasol, but the intense sun was ever on her face and though she ducked into the shade of the stalls as quickly as possibly, she was constantly conscious of the color (or, more realistically, painful redness) she’d soon be afforded. 

She picked up her parcels of silks and beautifully embroidered handkerchiefs as well as a delicate blue sari a woman in a stall had insisted she try on and then buy. She was sure she’d never wear it, but the color and the delicate beading and embroidery was too beautiful not to own. 

Poppet glanced out at the girl whose hand she had impolitely declined to take. She wished she could apologize now that she felt slightly less traumatized, but the rules of polite society dictated that she not acknowledge it at all. 

A flash of recognition passed over Poppet’s face. She thought for a moment, then said, “You work at the Circus with me, don’t you?” 

[charlotte-soames]

She was so encompassed in her embarrassment and flurry of movement to help the fallen body that Charlotte barely recognized that it had been a fellow Circus member. Her ability to overwhelm herself with certain things had taken years for etiquette lessons to weed out of her, and while she had a restrain on it to a certain degree, in environments like this, it was increasingly difficult to remain composed. It reminded her of the first time she had attended the circus. It had been in London times before when she had been a child and still living at the orphanage, but really, they had no money then, and she and the others would simply skirt around the edges, only being able to dream about the wonders inside. When she finally had the chance, it had fulfilled all her greatest hopes and more. Her parents had been beside themselves trying to get her to walk instead of run (because ladies didn't do the latter). 

There was no offense taken on her part, however, when Poppet didn't take her hand. Charlotte had never been one after all to take great offense to anything unless it was explicitly rude to someone that she cared about, which was a habit that she had picked up living on the streets. Society dictated that the people living in it had to have some sort of thick skin to get by; it was surprisingly more vicious than one would have thought and Charlotte had been surprised by the fact when she had begun her lessons. So many dizzying do's and don't's, a frightening amount of perhaps and perhaps not's - the list was endless! And despite how her mind had taken to it, she had still managed to mix them up on occasion only to be met with strange looks. In this particular situation though, she beamed, a smile unfolding on her face, the previous embarrassment fading away.

"Oh! Oh, yes! I'm so, well, flattered that you recognize me at all," she replied with a jolly, but obviously pleased smile. Because of her lack of exploration of the circus, many people still managed to become rather confused when she met them, but she always took it in stride. She happened to know Poppet through speaking with Widget, but she had never really spoken to the girl in person, although Charlotte hadn't been quite sure what she would say to the girl besides praising her on her act. It wasn't to say that she didn't wish to get to know the other Murray sibling better, because she did, but it was simply because she just wasn't entirely sure that the other girl would take any interest in her at all. And then she remembered her manners. Looping her hand through her wicker basket again, she held it out to the red headed young woman. "I'm Charlotte Soames. I'm so sorry about bumping into you earlier, I hadn't looked where I was going and I'm just horrified that I upturned a fellow Circus member. You're Pop - Miss Murray, aren't you? I adore your show!"

She almost cringed. There she went, talking off people's ears again.

[charlotte-soames]

Circus Girls | Hester & Charlotte

[hester-griggs]

Hester had seen the man in front of her tuck a watch chain into his pocket, though he had forgotten to properly fasten it to his vest. She knew that this meant if she could get close enough, it would be easily enough to snag the chain, pull it from his pocket, and hold on to a nice-priced item with little to no hassle. Her hands were folded and hidden in the folds of her dress, perfectly hiding the small piece of hard wire she had kept for such occasions. She was so glad she had kept the thing - though, when one had next to nothing, one often accumulated what one could.

She had been following them for quite some time, doing her absolute best to look as nonchalant as possible. She allowed her head to turn and her eyes to wander, seemingly taking in the sights that had already become so familiar to her. It had not taken her long to explore the entirety of the circus. She had nothing else to do, and the key to her success was constant movement between locations. It followed naturally that she should become well accustomed to the circus.

She soon found that the group she was following was headed towards Charlotte’s food cart - a suspicion confirmed as one of the gentleman pointed out her cart and confirmed that the party indeed wanted to get their meal there. Hester smiled to herself, now overtaking the group and approaching the cart as though that had been her intended destination the entire time. This made it too easy.

She swerved, placing herself at a particular angle from the cart. Charlotte’s eyes rose and found her, calling her out by name. Hester had not anticipated it, but she could not be upset with Charlotte - she esteemed the woman too much to be disappointed by her. She raised a jovial hand, responding, “Charlotte!” in turn.

Charlotte served her better by motioning to request her presence at the back of the cart, just as the party Hester had long been trailing arrived at their destination. Perfect. She bowed her head politely to her friend, and then made her way through the crowd, aiming for the back of the cart. “Excuse me,” she repeated. In the hustle and bustle, she fished the wire out, slid it into the gentleman’s pocket, and retrieved what she had come for.

Without inspecting her catch, she pushed through the crowd and circled the cart, coming to the rear entrance. She leaned against it and smiled to herself, withdrawing her hands from the folds of her dress.

“Oh…” she searched for words. “Bother!”

The chain itself was not in great condition, and had no watch attached. It seemed the man was attempting to keep up appearances. She sighed, disappointment briefly marring her mood. Still, the chain would fetch a decent price. She must not be so gloomy. Charlotte would surely help her pick up the mood, anyway.

[charlotte-soames]

Her eyes vaguely followed Hester's mop of hair as she made her way through the group before losing her completely and she focused her attention back on the task at hand. They were a rowdy group, but most of the people that came to her stall were rowdy simply because they were hungry and she couldn't blame them. She would be too if she were wandering (okay, really she'd probably run at some points because she would become so excited at something or other) around a circus in the boiling sun. And food was energy for the body, which eventually meant more energy to run around and explore. To be honest, she was just happy that she could be a part of that process, even if most people didn't view it that way. 

Thankfully, another lull came as soon as she completed the orders for that group and as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, there was satisfied little smile on her face as she leaned out to drop the latches on her cart front, before it dropped upon her turning around to see the mess that she'd have to eventually clean up. Even if she did do her best to clean as she went, things still managed to pile up. She had no doubt that she'd be up to her elbows in water scrubbing her pots and pans. The pout was nothing more than a momentary fault in her giddy attitude though and she was heading towards the door, and poking her head out into the somewhat cooler temperature. "Hester, darling!" she all but trilled. The younger girl was leaned up against her cart examining something in hands that looked like a chain.

Charlotte was very aware of what the girl did for a living, but she wasn't one to frown upon it. After all, she had, to a certain extent done that very thing before she had been adopted into the Soame family. Her outlook on those that made a living off the streets was only another thing that coloured her in the eyes of society, but the young woman did her best not to dwell on the matter too much or for very long. She wasn't there anymore, after all. She was at the circus and everyone came from a different walk of life there. That being said, it was most likely why she had taken a shine to the younger girl the way she had. It was almost nostalgic to have someone there who understood in a way others didn't and to be honest, she missed that part of her life more than her mother and father would have liked.  

"You must have been wandering in the heat for ages," she started, words tumbling from her mouth, not choosing to ask about the chain in that exact moment as she went down the several stair steps to the ground. "Did you want a drink? Or maybe some food? I still have some left over if you do." Her eyes crinkled before she smiled a little apologetically, "You can come in if you'd like, but I'm afraid the cart is stifling hot." 

[charlotte-soames]

Circus Girls | Hester & Charlotte

A strand of damp brown hair stuck to Charlotte's cheek as she slaved over the wood powered stove and oven that the circus had been kind enough to provide her with and she swiped it away quickly enough and without a second thought. While the heat was enough to make any normal person cranky, the ever present smile was still on Charlotte's face when she turned around to deliver the fresh and steaming hot plate of kosha mangsho to its awaiting customer. It was a short reprieve being away from the stove, but as soon as she had the next order she was back to bustling around the small space that smelled of delicious smells and spices.

Charlotte adored what she did at the circus. She had lived and breathed it since the moment that the first food hawker back in London had let her help him prepare his wares for the day and she knew in that moment that she'd never be happier doing anything else. While most society girls would have been simply appalled at the fact that they'd have to work, Charlotte had taken it all in stride. Working helped her feel like she was engaged instead of sitting passively by sipping her tea and watching the world go by and that sort of attitude certainly helped her earn her keep around the Circus of Dreams. 

It wasn't to say that she didn't enjoy sitting and sipping tea, but there was a time and place for that and she didn't think that she could stomach doing that one activity for the rest of her life. Oh, no. A life of movement and a life of adventure were much more her cup of tea so to speak. So even though she had learned that her food cart could get ridiculously warm in the Calcutta weather, especially when she had the oven or stove going, Charlotte still smiled through it all. She couldn't quite remember which of the food hawkers it had been that had told her a smile was the cherry on top of every dish and sale. Being where she was though, sales weren't really her primary concern. It was about sharing her joy of food with everyone else around her, and what better way to do that than to smile while she worked? 

And so she worked through the heat and the sweat, smiling all the while until the line began to dwindle so that she could have a bit more breathing room. It was only in one of these rare breaks as she tided up her work space and began to put things away that she didn't think she'd need, did Charlotte spot a familiar flash of brown hair and a cheeky smile not unlike her on. "Hester!" She would have continued the conversation if it hadn't been for the small tour group that had suddenly materialized from the crowd already calling out orders. Instead she gave her a quick apologetic grin, before motioning for her to meet her around back at her food cart's door. She realized with a start, that this small group would probably clean her out for the remainder of the night, but it wasn't an unpleasant start in the least bit. Any time spent with the young girl was time that she was quickly learning to enjoy. 

[charlotte-soames]

Indian bread pakoras stuffed with peas, potatoes, onions, garlic and curry. Recipe here. 

[e--bennett-blog]

Beads of Memory || Ella & Charlotte

[e--bennett-blog]

         Burning pleasure of witnessing fear was extinguished by bold answers. Fleeting element of distress marring letter-bound sentences. Singular puppet gracing desolated stage stared at the awe-inspiring persona. A female personifying incomprehensible confidence, displaying the ability of development - evolving into a peculiar creature, far from those one’s used to seeing. Perhaps, coincidental encounter would prove beyond enjoyable. Mild sentiments surfacing onto immobile countenance.  Glossed lips painted into a mysterious smile, whispering unsung secrets. Hardly noticeable, curiosity was melded into registering cerebrum. Far from mundane existence was capable of tugging out these forgotten emotions. Dust blown into a festival of questions.           Concealed under the secluded sanctity of the golden halo, doll silently observed as the intruder continued her speech. Patience interwoven into a complex network of musings. Talkative character drifted from topic to topic - a moment of confusion flashing across puppeteer’s features only to subside into a hardly visible grin - genuine in its core. “Why, my dear - every girl shelters a princess inside her, no? Uniqueness distinguishing one from the cattle. Never deny it. Regardless of its location, a rose is always a rose. And so is a princess. Ha! If humanity judged those around them merely by their appearance or location - and much to my avail they do nowadays - then, the undiscovered beauty will always remain hidden. In other words, we’ll all be ……                                                                                            ….. doomed.”          Instant of wordless concurrence between master & puppet. Quiet admiration exchanged between related presences. If only she possessed the eloquence her puppets did — oh! “Forgiveness is an element we all cherish and offer. As for a name, I find that hardly necessary — …. I might be Evangeline today, Thomas tomorrow, and on holidays — a Hugh! I may be a Richard for the woman shedding tears, an Elizabeth for the man in the corner, and a Charles for you~! Trivial matter, trivial matters. Why don’t you choose a name for me, Charlotte? I’d be more than honoured to carry something of yours with me.” Obviously male marionette spoke with ease, tracing the girl with its unfazed gaze.

[charlotte-soames]

An amused smile sparkles on her lips as she listens to the reply the puppet gives to her. This is another thing that she cherishes about the circus; people at home, people in society, had always been so keen to show off their intelligence and their enlightened way of speech. Charlotte enjoyed reading as much as the next person, but there was always something so pretentious about the way they spoke, as if they were attempting to prove they were the most of anyone. Charlotte had only been able to smile politely and nod, entertaining their games.But this, this is so different. It's engaging. This is what she believes to be enlightening and wonderful, not those other conversations.

"Well, it's a very good thing that we have people like you in the world, isn't it, Wonderlandian?" she asks with a grin."Imagine if everyone was like you said. I think it'd be a terribly dreary place and what fun is that?" A fond look crossed her face as she slipped her basket gracefully off her to let it rest on the ledge of the stage before leaning her own elbows onto it, lights catching in her brown eyes and setting them alight with delight. "That's why I'm very glad that there's things like this circus. It helps remind people that they should learn to look past the outside. There's so much more if you'd just pay a bit more attention." As much as she was enjoying the conversation with the puppet, she couldn't help but wonder about the puppeteer just as she uttered the previous sentence, but her racing thoughts forced herself back to the present situation. The wide smile closed, forming into a thoughtful pout, the small tip of her tongue poking from between her teeth. Her mother had always claimed it wasn't proper for a lady to do that, but since leaving her home and consequently her mother's watchful gaze, her endless lessons on manners had quickly flew from her mind. "I'm very flattered for the honor! How about...Adrian? If it doesn't suit you, I'm sure we could come up with something together. I wouldn't want to assume after all."