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//sorry I haven’t been posting. Fickle muse’s as well as my show, and work have kept me active on only certain blogs. Will try my hardest to get on tomorrow and work out some replies :)

#outofbooks

hrhmonpetitchou:

The mare basked in the newcomer’s attention and Elizabeth gently led her back into the confines of her stable. Amelia’s visit had not been expected but it was a welcome addition to what had been a rather hectic week and an even more mundane morning. There was no doubt in her mind that somewhere inside Buckingham Palace, Nanny had less pleasant feelings about the unannounced guests. At seven years old, Amelia’s little daughter Sarah had formed quite the friendship with the young princess; a sentiment that both warmed the queen’s heart and evoked a deep, sad nostalgia. Unless it was over a formal dinner or government gathering, seeing old friends had become a rarity. Amelia was one of the few that Elizabeth saw more than once or twice a year.

“Well, you’ve made Anne’s day - and mine too,” she assured, giving the woman one more kiss to the cheek and leading them out towards a familiar trail along palace grounds. Over the years, they had trodded that very path a number of times: bicycling together as children, sharing hushed secrets of wartime fears and first kisses as they got older, and, most recently, during Amelia’s visits to the queen. “You won’t believe who stopped over the other day, although you might already know…” The woman said, offering Amelia a grin. “Your mother. Full of words of wisdom on how to handle all of this terrible business with the newspapers. I don’t know why I bother with secretaries when I both her and my own mother.”

The bustling city of London was always congested, but knowing of the confines of the Palace grounds were always open to her was a dream come true. Birds chirped away happily in the tranquil gardens, the quiet more than welcome. Even more lovely was the idea of spending an afternoon outside her house in Kensington, especially when the only people at home were servants and a rambuctous little girl who wanted nothing more than to practice her ballet dancing. The call from Anne’s nanny, as reluctant as she sounded, was perfect timing.

“I can very much say the same.” The woman smiled, accepting her last greeting, a smirk forming at the confirmation of her mother’s meddling. Even though all her children were grown, nothing would ever stop Rosamund Painswick from making sure she had a say in the direction and advisments of her family. Most of the time Amelia welcomed her recommendations, but lately, especially at her advice on successfully concieving and maintaining a pregnancy, the woman had taken her comments with a grain of salt. She couldn’t wait to finally announce her pregnancy, and to see the look on her mother’s face at being left out of a secret. “They always say mother’s know best. Our’s just happen to believe, rightfully so, that they are the greatest sages of our time. But you know what King Solomon said: ‘This too shall pass.’ You always come out victorious, no matter what those stuffy old men say.” Amelia smiled, giving the beautiful horse a pet on the muzzle before turning to walk the path she new by heart. Side by side she walked with her dearest friend, just like times of old.

#hrhmonpetitchou #v: amelia violet painswick

widowofbelgravesquare:

continued from here

The whole of England was still over the moon with the birth ofPrincess Anne but Rosamund was far more concerned with the Parkerbaby. She was happy the Queen, who was always her niece more than aqueen even now, had come safely through her birth but being agrandmother was a different thing entirely. It was high time heryoungest had some happiness of her own after trying for so long.

“I told that husband of yours you weren’t having a boy.”Amelia was half Crawley after all, and one thing the Crawleys neverseemed to manage well was having boys. Cyril- who could be put off asa fluke- was squarely in the middle of four female cousins and asister. Of all the women in the family, Edith had been the only oneof them to manage more than one boy, and she only had two. “Hewouldn’t listen to a word I said though. He was so certainhe’d have an heir on the first go.”Neither had Marmaduke for that matter. Nearly thirty years ofmarriage and the man still hadn’t learned to listen to her.

Men were such silly creatures where their virility was concerned.

Rosamund smoothed the baby’s red curls, “What’s she to benamed then? She doesn’t look much like a Roger Marmaduke,”Between Cora, herself, Mary, Edith, Lavinia, and Sybil most ofthe family names had been used already. “and Anne’s taken nowas well.” It was funny really how the girls had taken afterherself and Elizabeth. Married about the same time, babies about thesame time. They’d served even served in the ATS together during thewar.

Amelia smiled softly at the sight, pushing damp curls from her forhead. Her mother so naturally gifted with babies.She had been through this three time with Lavinia, the woman having two boy and a girl of her own with ease, her husband and herself doing everything they could to prevent a fourth now that there children were nearing young adulthood. Not to mention Cyril and his wife, who themselves had one and were sure to have anohter in no time. For Amelia to be in this bed, complaining of postpatum pains, was a wonder to say the least. She was sure she had been a monster a few hours again, and was glad her mother had stayed by her side the entire time, despite her quick temper. She hoped the next baby would come easier, but for now she would enjoy the fact she had even had one.

“How on earth did you do this three times, and two on one go.” The girl asked, wincing again as she sat herself up in bed. Her mother and her cousin Edith now seemed like saints for giving birth to twins. Even more so her mother and father for deciding to have another after the fact. “I’m sure Roger had hoped I inherited the Crawley woman’s skill of having twins when he found out I had a girl, but I shall say thank god I did not at the present.” Oh how she would have loved to have had two, one of each, but her body very much said otherwise at the present.

“May I introduce Lady Sarah Rosamund Elizabeth Parker, Daughter of the future 10th Marquess of Dorset….Affectionatly called Sally” In all honesty, she had not settled on a girls name until she first saw her daughter properly, cleaned off and bundled. Sarah seemed to just fit, and it happened to be the name of Roger’s Grandmother. Of course when it came to middle names, she had always had those picked, deciding to the be the first to honor her mother, and of course, her dear friend, Elizabeth. Thankfully Anne had never crossed her mind, a thought that reminded her of her need to write her congratulation to Lilibet and Philip.

#widowofbelgravesquare #v: amelia violet painswick #tw: pregnancy #tw: miscarriage

continued from @hrhmonpetitchou

Amelia rarely read the papers these days, more bad news each and every edition, but it was hard to miss ones dear friend’s name being slandered on the front page multiple times a week. Then again, it seemed Lilibet was always in the papers. After all, she was the Queen of England, the sovereign of their empire, which seemed to be growing smaller with each passing year. Still, no matter how many title the woman held, Amelia would always see her as her sister of the soul, the girl she had claimed to be twins with when she was little when they discovered their similar birthdays, both in the month of April, a tradition both their little girls would be able to carry, Anne and Sarah having both come during August of 1950.

The woman quickly found Nanny to hand her own daughter off, Anne and Sally squeeing with delight at their reunion. Although Amelia had promised Sally she would spend some time with her before going off to find Elizabeth, that was immediately forgotten about with the reunion of the seven-year-old girls. It didn’t matter if the two were apart for a minute as each time they greeted each other as if a lifetime had passed. The palace was abuzz with chaos, phones ringing in every direction, all speaking of the article that had been released. The woman was quick to escape the maze with little interruptions, heading to the stables to meet her own dear friend.

“Nanny rang asking if Sally wanted to come and play with her highness, Princess Anne, not that there was really a question of whether or not I could say no, especially being home while Roger is hard working at the bank.” Amelia kissed Elizabeth’s cheeks in return, petting the small horse lovingly. She hoped the Queen did not ask her to ride. As much as the woman yearned to, she couldn’t risk such in her condition, not when she had lost so many before simply walking through the park. Amelia was the farthest along she had been in a while, thirteen weeks to be in fact, but she did not want to tell a soul until at least half-way, when things were ever more certain. “No one noticed me at all. In fact, both girls ignored me as soon as they saw each other and are bound to be causing their usual shenanigans in the nursery. But now the matter is, how are you. I’m sure you need a non-judgmental ear to vent to.”

#hrhmonpetitchou #v: amelia violet painswick #tw: miscarriage

rpingmemes

What’s my reputation in the Roleplaying Community?

bertievi

rpingmemes :

Tell me on anon or not.

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#outofbooks

widowofbelgravesquare

👶

Rosamund stared at her daughter for a moment before settling into an armchair with the newest member of the Painswick family. Of course the girl would hand the baby over to her. Not that she wasn’t happy to see them but still. “It’s high time we finally had another redhead in the family.” Well technically the girl was the daughter of the future Marquess of Dorset but being a Painswick- and a Crawley for that matter- transcended anything as far as Rosamund was concerned. “The whole lot of you were all turning out to look like your grandmother and Aunt Cora.”

If ever there was a time to that American expression about redheaded stepchildren seemed apt it was when one had a family full of brunettes with a couple of strawberry blonds throw in for flavor… with two redheads.

Well now three redheads thank God.

themaidenauntsdaughter

Exhaustion was the only thing Amelia felt at the presence, the joys and emotions of giving birth having passed. The woman had been married since she was twenty-one and after three years of trying, including two miscarriages, she finally had a child to call her own. As joyful as she was for having a healthy baby, she also felt a tinge of disappointment, knowing how much her husband wanted a boy, an heir to a meaningless title. In truth, Amelia knew the peerage was dying, as much as everyone refused to admit it. However, wasn’t it her father’s money and her father’s job offer that kept her and her husband afloat, the giant estate being sold off in favor of living solely in London?

“There will be no denying she is mine, that is for sure. Not with hair like that.”She winced a bit as she repositioned herself in the bed, still cramping every once in a while, not to mention the soreness in her nether region. Her daughter had been tiny, a meer six pounds seven oz and yet she had felt bigger. especially during the hour it took to push her out. Her and Lilibet had placed friendly bets on who would have the bigger baby, the two friends seeming to always follow in each other’s footsteps. Like their mothers, the two had fallen pregnant around the same time. Elizabeth had had her baby last week, a daughter called Anne. Finally, after three weeks of multiple false alarms, Amelia could say the same.

“We’ve already decided a name for her, though Roger was so sure we would be welcoming Roger Marmaduke Parker.”

#v: amelia violet painswick

dieselfutures

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uninterrupted-happiness

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bunny-rp-memes

Reblog if you don’t mind random inbox starters that aren’t memes

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bunchofrpmemes

Bold all that apply:

themaidenauntsdaughter

My muse knows how to…

#memes

hey y’all. Not dead! Just very busy with other blogs/work/doing a play but I’m going to try and bring my activity back up on here! Message me if you want to plot and such!

#out of books #downton abbey rp #historical rp #the crown rp

hrhmonpetitchou:

Continuing with @themaidenauntsdaughter

It was the sound of birds’ chatter and sunlight that woke Elizabeth the next morning. The ball had gone until early hours, though both the princess and Marigold had retired early. Sitting on the bed, catching up about the most meaningless things had felt like those long car rides, testing the army truck’s emissions and oil. Though it was something that would never leave her lips, wartime had been an escape from the dull regiment of palace life for Elizabeth. Not that she would ever wish for anything like that to happen again.

By the time the grandfather clock had struck midnight, Lilibet had decided that her friend would be staying (no if’s and’s or but’s!) before sending the young woman to a spare room down the hall. As she descended the stairs the following morning, Elizabeth snagged two bread rolls from the breakfast table (a hungover Margaret and Queen Mother hadn’t bothered to stop her), and pulled on her favorite pair of riding boots. She knocked on Marigold’s poor, poking in with breakfast in hand. “Good morning. Do rise and shine. How do you feel about going out for a ride?”

It had been years since Marigold had slept in, but the night had been extremely busy, even if Elizabeth and her had taken to a night of solitude. Even so, the two sipped glasses of scot slowly, reading and discussing the works of shakespeare which than turned into their favorite stories from the war. The war itself had been a horrible tragic mark on world history and yet Marigold wished to have the freedom it gave her back, her dreams that evening filled with her back in her uniform, walking side by side with the Princess through the streets of London.

She woke the net morning slightly delirious, forgetting that she had slept over when she woke up and was greated to the lavish room she had stayed in, the walls covered into the most ornate wallpaper she had ever seen. Stretching out, the silk pajamas she wore gliding against eygptian cotton sheets, she smirks at the marvoulous sleep she had had. Marigold quickly got out of bed and dressed, having borrowed clothes from her dear friend for their outdoor excursions. With perfect timing, the door opened as she placed the last pin in her waved hair.

“You know very well I never turn down the chance to ride.” She had always enjoyed riding, ever since she was old enough to sit on a saddle by herself. It may have been the only thing she had in common with much of her mother’s family, the Crawley’s holding hunts several times a year. That aspect Marigold did not enjoy, but to ride across the open country left the girl with a joy she could not compare.

#hrhmonpetitchou #v: main

bertievi:

If her role was authorised by any military, secret service or even government it was highly likely Albert not only knew but that his signature was on the authorisation documents. Still he did not bring it up nor was he likely to attempt it, business was not quite welcome without either urgency or scheduled audience. For now, Albert was just enjoying chatting to Marigold.

“I –personally do not enjoy the -balls all –too much.” He confessed, a small attempt to put her at some ease in his honesty. In truth, Albert tended to dislike all situations that required him as a ‘host’ to a large number of people, the presentation of eligible young ladies was no exception and he disagreed with the idea enough that he sometimes refused to turn up, his health eventually becoming excuse enough to not attend at all.

“Yes, I —quite remember.” He smiled, Albert had been a notorious youth as prince and he did not tend to dwell on it all too long, especially with young ladies. “I will be –sure to –contact them soon, though I –doubt I will be able -to attend any such events there any more.” A royal visit was extremely expensive after all. “And may I ask how you are? It has –been a -short while –since I –last -saw you around.”

It was interesting to speak to the Monarch in a informal setting, seeing him more and more as a mere human with each moment. She began to relax, smiling and nodding herself at the mention of his dislike of parties. Marigold was the same in most aspects, but then again, most women did not get a say in which parties they attended as each social even was another chance to find a husband, at least was the way before the war, a practice that was alling out of favor, though not quick enough. The pressure she felt was not even from her parent’s but her grandparent, wanting nothing more than to see their granddaughter’s place secured, especially when so much of her could be revealed while she remained unmarried.

“I must admit, I don’t like them much either. If given the choice, I’d hide in the library with a scot and Shakespeare.” Hadn’t her and Elizabeth done such the night of the ball recently, sneaking into the garden only to excuse themselves and spend the rest of the evening in her room, bundled in warm pajamas and laughing about every memory they kept of their time together during the war. That to her was the perfect of parties

“I’m sure they will understand. I suppose you job keeps you busy.” She smirked at him. To know he actually carried about his subjects was something that Marigold admired, and she had no doubt she would be told of how the King wrote personally to her Grandfather the next time she returned to Downton. She smiled again as he asked of her. She was sure all she had to say would bore him, but it was nice to know he was curious of the well being of his daughter’s friend.

“I am very well, thank you. I must admit it is sad the war is what brought Lillibet and I together, but it is also nice to know it had kept us friends. I’m glad we are getting to spend more time together now that everything is settled in our country and we are no longer tired to the responsibilies that come with a uniform. She’s asked me to be one of her maids of honor actually and I couldn’t have said yes to such quicker.”

#bertievi #v: main

bertievi:

Smiling politely for her curtsey and smiling much more genuinely when he caught that smirk on her face. “Many -have –proven themselves -quite capable and -loyal through the war.” Herself included though he only gave a smile to her for his understanding of her missions during the war. He didn’t think it all together too polite to bring it up in that moment.

“I am –glad a –glance might have been –considered -satisfactory, I dare -say I would –still be –talking to the –coronation -crowd if a –glimpse was not enough.” Another tease, marked by another light chuckle to prove as such. “How are those at –Downton? I daresay we –need another –visit -sometime.” A polite ask while they waited, though he did imagine his eldest may be a while, he did not think she was quite dressed for any sort of outing they may have had planned. He of course had no idea of her true relation to the Grantham family but he knew she was related.

His words struck her more than they should, suddenly curious about how much he knew about what exactly she had done during the war. Her training had hightened her senses, making her read into his words more than she may have should. She remained calm, the smile remaining, trying to remind herself that he was most likely speaking of her work with the ATS and her time with Elizabeth, not so much her role in the killing of Nazis.

“Oh, I understand completely. God knows there aren’t enough hours in the day for a King to see a hundred of girls who have come to make themselves known to the entire noble society that they are ready for marriage. I can only imagine how daunting it must be.” She hoped her words were charming, suddenly second guessing all that she said. Never did she speak this much. Why was she so nervous. He was just a man, a King yes, but a man all the same. Still, she remained cool and collected, pushing a stay strand of golden hair behind her ear.

“All are well, your Majesty. I’m sure you will find, like most manor house, not much has changed despite an entire world war. Some things in our empire seem to always remain constant. I’m sure they would be honored to host you. Grandpapa and Granny always love to entertain. I’m sure you remember the ball your brother and you attended for my cousin, Rose, when she had her coming out, though your father was King then, may God rest his soul.

#bertievi

hrhmonpetitchou:

“Oh, I’d be far more worried about George falling under Margaret’s spell. She tends to set her eye on something - or someone - and there’s no stopping her.” The noise of the party soon subsided into a soft hum of fireflies as the women moved their conversation outdoors. Elizabeth brushed her fingertips against the neatly trimmed bushes lining the Buckingham Palace gardens.

Upon Marigold’s mention of the war, the princess’ mind wandered to the long days she and her friend and spent together, hands chocked full of engine soot and grim, followed by gossip exchanged over walks along the beach. If she were being honest, volunteering had never felt very war-like; but Marigold had strong opinions about the war so Elizabeth kept quiet.

“I suppose nothing’s really changed,” the woman agreed, folding a pair of gloved hands at her waist. “but I think that’s a good thing. Isn’t that what we all wanted? For things to go back to the way they were, and to forget about war and conflict.”

“I suppose it shall just have to be a game for us to keep an eye on, the battle of the charmers.” She smiled at the two dancing, watching them laugh back and forth at each other, their sudden attraction most likely fulled by the champagne that had circulated the ball room all evening. Marigold herself was beginning to feel the effects of the glass she had finished moments before finding her friend, the second glass she had had since her arrival. If there was one thing she could say her time in the military had taught her, it was how to consume liquor and keep it down. She had drunk strong ale with officer’s in beer halls, she had sipped whiskey in dark lit nightclubs catered towards Nazi officers. Two glasses of champagne would do nothing but lighten her spirits.

As the two walked and talked Marigold remembered why she enjoyed the Princess’ company. Both were considered quiet types by the people around them. For the Yorkshire native, she had spent her life being talked over, silent until she was absolutely sure that her point could be made clear. With Lilibet, there was no need, the two always allowing the other to finish before adding a thought, no need to worry about interruptions or lost trains of thought. Even as Marigold released the bottle that was her difficulty of adjusting to post-war life, the woman listened. There was so much she would never be able to say, and it hurt to keep it locked away to eat at her soul, but it was a necessary evil that she had promised to the day she decided to work in underground operations.

“It’s funny how we fight wars to save what we hold dear.” The girl started, her fingers drifting to one of the dead flowers the lingered in the soil, plucking it from its home, her fingers gently pulling at the petals. “And yet they forget that when we, woman, are given the chance to gain independence from our homes, maybe we don’t want to give up such lives and yet they expect us to do just that, to return home to become wives and mother and grandmothers and nothing more…Well, I suppose not me. Not many people want to marry the adoptive daughter of a Marquess.” It was a trend seen in ever single class, a fight that continued on despite two world wars and sufferage. Marigold had thought she had wanted the traditional life, but with war she saw she was more than just a potential Baroness or if she was lucky, Countess. Her mother had defied all odds, running a magazine, coordinating the affairs at the estate as the Marchioness of Hexham, and of course, having three children. It was time that her mother’s outlandish life was simply status quo.

#hrhmonpetitchou #v: main

hrhmonpetitchou:

“The wedding is set for late November. You’ll come of course…” It was less of a question and more of a statement. “It’ll be a whole big affair. My mother is positively incandescent over it all. She’s been busying herself making sure everything is in place and it’s almost six months away.”

Truthfully, the public spectacle of her union with Philip Mountbatten made the princess’ insides churn. A small, intimate ceremony on a beach or in the mountains would have sufficed; but Elizabeth knew that would never be the case.

She caught a glimpse of her sister’s dancing partner and emitted a lopsided grin towards her friend. “Is that your cousin that Margaret is with? George. They seem to be having a nice time. How is your family by the way? Are they well?”

Glancing to the ornate gardens below that offered the prospect of private conversation, Lilibet returned her gaze to Marigold. “Would you like to walk? I’d very much like to catch up. You’ve hardly said a word about yourself!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, and you know that.” Marigold confimed, smiling a full toothed grin. She would be counting the days silently, but wedding always excited her, the romance of them flooding her mind, a childhood of reading shakespeare and other novels giving her a great respect for such services and she wished so much for her own fairy tale even some day. That was not even close to being seen on the horizon, her entire situation far to complicated for words, being far to noble to marry a common man, yet not noble enough to marry up in status.

“George is a very charming lad. Always has been from the time he could speak. I remember how he had nanny wrapped around his finger as a child. The little prince she would call him. Me…well…not so much.” There was little to add to that statement, having always been the odd duckling of the Downton bunch. “And I’m sure your sister had fallen under his spell as well.” At the mention of her family, she smiled. “Happy to report all is well. My grandparent’s are just as engaged in the estate as ever, with Aunt Mary and Uncle Henry doing ever so well in the automotive business. Uncle Tom is still partnered with them, and Sybbie is continuing on as a nurse, just like her mother. As for my parent, nothing had changed, happy, healthy and very much in love. The twins are here tonight as well, chatting with Phillip I believe. It seems Naval officers stick together much like we do.”

Marigold nodded at the idea of a walk, the last of the flowers beginning to shrivel with approching winter. The women smirked at her friends comment. She never did talk about herself and internally she knew why. Although she had always been soft spoken as a child, these traits increased with age and discover. There were far too many secrets that could be let, ones that could ruin her already tarnished repuation in some of societies mind, but also secrets that could leave has being a traitor to the great country of England.

“I’m not an intresting person, at least not compared to you. Besides, nothing really has changed since the war. Just that we no longer are officers first, noble women second. It’s a sad state if you think about it, the independence and identities we established from hard work and dedication stripped away with victory. But I suppose it is something we will only hope changes with the same ticking of time that brought us together and allowed the ‘fairer’ sex to serve in the first place. I shall be honest with you, I have simply felt stranded since we we’re told we were no longer need.”

#hrhmonpetitchou

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