He had it coming

"Lizzie Borden took an axe And gave her mother forty whacks. When she saw what she had done, She gave her father forty-one." I promise you, the abusive bastard had it coming. (rp blog for chaos hotel)

[guthbrand]

[skullzombie23]

[murderhouseredux]

whitechapel-ripper

"A joke?" He raised an eyebrow. "How so?" He paused, confused when the woman left the room. "Oh, well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss. I was just guiding Miss Borden here back to her room. I apologise for making her late." James wasn’t sure how to act to the woman, was she a maid or a friend? "If you would like to get ready for dinner, I should leave you be. I was unaware we had a set time for these things, and I should probably be readying as well."

"Thank you, James." Lizzie gave a little curtsy. "I do look forward to seeing you again." The two women turned into their room, closing the door behind them. 

"I see you have made a new friend." Bridget noted. "He's not as creepy as the other boy," Lizzie sighed, "there is just something odd about him and the way slinks about the place." "You still need to apologize to him, regardless of how creepy he might be, Lizzie," Bridget knew what she meant though. "I saw him through the window, earlier. Stalking some stray cats. I don't know what he plans on doing to the poor things, but I can bet it's nothing good."

"I would very much like to pick James' brain. He seems to know a good deal about many things. I do like him, Bridget." The maid could see that, it was rare for Lizzie to like anyone, much less on the first meeting. Bridget could only hope that this James knew just how special she was. The older woman could only watch and smile as her younger counterpart, excitedly, picked out a dress to wear to dinner. 

[whitechapel-ripper-deactivated2]

"Thank you, Ms. Borden." He smiled, "I find you intriguing as well." He held the door for her. "Which room is yours? I found myself situated in room 32." He took her arm again, walking toward the large, swirling staircase toward the back of the room.

[murderhouseredux]

She was silent as they made their way up the winding staircase. It was only when they reached the top that she finally spoke. "I am in room 11. A rather distasteful joke on the staff's part. It's just up ahead." As the pair approached Lizzie's room, a fair haired woman was exiting. She looked up, a little startled. "Liz-," she started, correcting herself when she saw the man with whom Lizzie was walking with, "Miss Lizzie, I was just about to look for you. Supper will be up soon, you must get ready."

"James, I would like to introduce you to Bridget. She's my- well, if I say maid, that doesn't really encompass all that she is. Bridget, this is James, another resident of this establishment."

[whitechapel-ripper-deactivated2]

James tilted his head. “I must admit, I’ve never heard of the name not used as a nickname.” He looked at her. “I agree with you. Knowledge is what makes a man- er, apologies, a person, worth knowing.” He looked at the sky. “The unintelligent are so…” He found himself at a loss for words. Luckily, they were now just in front of the building, so he could change the subject. “May I walk you to your room, Madam?” 

[murderhouseredux]

"You know, I think I like you James. It's not very often that I meet someone so...intriguing." Lizzie smiled, a rare occurrence, that she smiled so openly and genuinely. "You may walk me to my room, sir."

[whitechapel-ripper-deactivated2]

"Hm." James smiled, despite himself. "I’ve never been narcissistic to a point to read a novel about my own person." He couldn’t help but chuckle. "Especially because of the fact that all of the theories I have heard are ridiculous and far-fetched." He said, but did not offer any further information. "Forgive me for being ignorant, but who are you? I’ve never heard the name Lizzie before. I presume it is a shortened form of Elisabeth? I knew a woman named Elisabeth once." He trailed off, "But I do find it very interesting that you are so well read, did you take it upon yourself to learn?" He smiled politely. "I admire intelligence."

[murderhouseredux]

Lizzie smiled to herself. James wasn't the only one who had cumbersome theories thrown around about one's self. If the dark stranger wasn't going to offer anymore information, who was Lizzie to pry. After all, she had her own secrets. 

"Lizzie isn't short for Elisabeth. It's just Lizzie. Borden. My father," the word rolled off of her tongue like acid peeling away flesh, "was very incessant that my sister and I be well versed in many subjects." She lingered, momentarily, on that last thought. "I, also, admire intelligence. A sense of passion for education was instilled in me from a very young age. I do not mean that I have a love of earning, but rather, find it necessary."

[whitechapel-ripper-deactivated2]

"Indeed." He smirked at her quick wit. She was intelligent, and evidently well read. "And it says quite a bit about a woman that can read." He reached out his arm for her to take. "What is this 'Well of loneliness about, pray tell?" He began to walk.

[murderhouseredux]

Lizzie took his arm, "It's a rather good read about a young woman who searches for her place in society. She finds it in a rather queer place. She struggles with who she is a person. Although, it's not as good as, say, 'Portrait of a Killer.'"

Lizzie glanced sideways to see the young man's reaction. She was testing the waters, treacherous she knew, but she needed to know how her new "friend" played. 

[whitechapel-ripper-deactivated2]

James smiled back at her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t heard of it.” He paused, “Have you read Frankenstien, by Mary Shelley?” He asked, “It’s one of my favourites, a classic.” He frowned. “Although, I would be lying if I said I was certain that you could still find it should you look. It was written early in the 19th century-" He stopped, "oh, forgive me, where are my manners? My name is Jack- er, James. Apologies, that's a habit I've yet to break."

[murderhouseredux]

"Lizzie. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jack-er-James."  She stood up and took a few steps towards James. "I have indeed read Frankenstien. It would be a shame to not read such a book. Although, I cannot say it is one of my favorites, it says something to a man's character the kinds of books he reads." Lizzie looked at the sky, the sun was making it's way down over the horizon. "It's getting late, and my maid will start to wonder where I've gone. Also, I'm sure supper will be up soon. Care to join me in the walk back?"

[murderhouseredux]

whitechapel-ripper:

James had organized his room to the best of his abilities. Having grown bored about half way through doing so, he’d given up and decided to explore the outdoor grounds. He felt himself drawn to a fenced off orchard to the left of the building. It was a bright contrast to the dark brick building, and knowing the type of people who lived inside… James smirked and walked into the orchard. He walked for a little while before noticing a figure leaning against a tree. He walked toward them. When he was closer he noticed that the figure was a woman. He frowned. She was nice looking, but it was odd that she was out alone. He vaguely hoped she wasn’t a resident. 

"Madam?" He said quietly, not wanting to disturb her. "Pardon me, Madam, I noticed you were here and I found myself curious, what are you reading?" He smiled.

Lizzie was slightly startled to hear another voice. All she wanted to do was get away for a little while. Looking up, she saw a rather handsome young man. By his accent, British. The foreigner looked harmless enough, but if he was here, not a person to be taken lightly. Bridget was right, Lizzie should not have insulted the boy from before. With an internal sigh, she resolved to attempt to make friends.

"'The Well of Loneliness' by Radclyffe Hall," she replied with a slight smile.

[murderhouseredux]

Lizzie sighed, not even an hour here and she was being forced to apologize to some kid who pissed his pants. What did Bridget want from her? The weird boy was spying on them. It was hard enough to keep their secret without people nosing into their business. 

The walk on the grounds was helpful. Lizzie found a small orchard with trees bearing all kinds of fruits. She would have to be mindful of the pear trees. Bridget likes her little jokes about pears. 

Lizzie picked a tree and stretched out underneath, she buried herself in the book she had brought with her. 

[skullzombie23]

[murderhouseredux]

The smell of urine made Lizzie turn. As she did, she saw a boy, he had to have been about the same age as she. Lizzie glanced down, upon seeing the spreading, sodden front of the boys pants, a slow sneer appeared on her lips. 

"It’s not nice to sneak around, spying on people, you know. One should be very careful of whom he spies on, if he knows what’s good for him."

[chasing-richard-deactivated2014]

" Fuck, I am ever so sorry. I can’t control it really. I wasn’t spying by the way. I was coming to greet you but I see how it is Miss." 

Looking a bit down trodden Rich turn to walk away, running is fingers over the growing spot in his pants, and shaking his head. 

[murderhouseredux]

"Why do you always have to be so cross with people, Lizzie? Couldn't you see the boy only wanted to make friends?" Lizzie turned back to their room to unpack. "You will apologize to the boy, once he's had a chance to clean up a bit. Do you hear me?"

[murderhouseredux]

Emma was right, she had to get out of Massachusetts. Lizzie may have gotten off on the charges of killing her parents, just barely, but her home town of River Fall was just too small. The looks were just too much, the whispers behind hands. Bridget had mentioned a small hotel in Vermont. A place for people just like Lizzie. 

Room 11, it was a sick joke, Lizzie knew that. 11 was the number of times she had hit her father in the face with the ax. Bridget came in behind her with the bags, keeping up the visage that she was just the maid. The slight nod of the older woman’s head told Lizzie that everything was going to be okay. Their new home would bring an adventure or two.

[chasing-richard-deactivated2014]

Rich had been peering out the window of his room, when he witnessed a small delicate woman and her, what were those called? Maids? Their voices could be heard walking up the old wooden stairs, he listened in. And spoke to himself, “Oh room 11.” 

We jolted from his room, and made his way towards the room, care not to make much noise. Wouldn’t want too much attention drawn to himself. When he had reached the doorway, there he stood, watching silently the new arrival. When suddenly a warm feeling came over him and well..on him. Goddamn it! Not again…

[murderhouseredux]

The smell of urine made Lizzie turn. As she did, she saw a boy, he had to have been about the same age as she. Lizzie glanced down, upon seeing the spreading, sodden front of the boys pants, a slow sneer appeared on her lips. 

"It's not nice to sneak around, spying on people, you know. One should be very careful of whom he spies on, if he knows what's good for him."

[murderhouseredux]

Emma was right, she had to get out of Massachusetts. Lizzie may have gotten off on the charges of killing her parents, just barely, but her home town of River Fall was just too small. The looks were just too much, the whispers behind hands. Bridget had mentioned a small hotel in Vermont. A place for people just like Lizzie. 

Room 11, it was a sick joke, Lizzie knew that. 11 was the number of times she had hit her father in the face with the ax. Bridget came in behind her with the bags, keeping up the visage that she was just the maid. The slight nod of the older woman's head told Lizzie that everything was going to be okay. Their new home would bring an adventure or two.

[chaoshotel-rp]

Elizabeth ” Lizzie” Borden  is  20 years of age. People might say she shares a resemblance Marina Diamandis   Christina Ricci . is sadly TAKEN.

↳ (+) Polite, Determined, Independent 

(-) Spiteful, Impulsive

Body Count: 2

Weapon of Choice: Hatchet

Motive: Unknown; A suggest theory was that Lizzie and the family’s live-in maid, Bridget Sullivan, were having a lesbian affair and Lizzie mother walked in on them. Abby was horrified and disgusted, so Lizzie killed her and then her father.

Victims: Both of her parents

Abby Durfee Gray Borden

Andrew Jackson Borden

Very involved in her religion, Christianity.

Andrew Borden, Lizzie’s father, thought that the pigeons in their barn were attracting local children to hunt them so he killed them with a hatchet. Lizzie had grown attached to them before this act, and after it she was very upset.

Lizzie called Bridget “Maggie” frequently because that was the name of her previous maid.

She was very close to her sister, Emma.

After the crimes, Lizzie occasionally called herself “Lizbeth A. Borden”

Abby was actually Lizzie’s step mother and they didn’t have a great relationship, especially since Andrew decided to gift Abby’s family real estate before Lizzie and Emma. This act grew tension among the entire family.

“Lizzie Borden took an axe And gave her other forty whacks.

When she saw what she had done,

She gave her father forty-one.” Unlike the popular skipping-rope rhyme, she only gave her mother 19 whacks and her father 11.

[fashionable-pessimism]

Lizzie borden took an axe. Gave her mother 40 whacks. When she saw what she had done. She gave her father 41