Category Archives: Capshaw-Martin

Tougher Than The Rest

The road is dark and it’s a thin thin line. But I want you to know I’ll walk it for you any time. Maybe your other boyfriends couldn’t pass the test…

Trigger Warning! So as not to be all spoilery, there is character death and other stuffs in this post. Proceed with caution.

Ververe 29th, 1513 – Riding grounds, outside River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

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It seemed strangely quiet this morning. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had been riding all by herself. As it was officially Hybel break as of yesterday afternoon–despite it not yet being Hybel–there were no lessons, including riding lessons. Then Vivi had something that she was doing with her father and brothers, Elizabet had known that for a good couple of weeks. Then this morning her father told her that the FitzChivalries had sent over a servant, Marianne had sent her regrets but she wasn’t going to make it either. Still, Elizabet would be damned if she was going to spend the first day of her break sitting around the estate doing nothing.

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Don’t Take the Girl

A little girl came through the front gate holdin’ a fishing pole. His dad looked down and smiled, said we can’t leave her behind. Son I know you don’t want her to go but someday you’ll change your mind.

Ververe 29th, 1513 – Outskirts of River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

Eric stood up as he heard the unfamiliar clatter of horse hooves stopping outside. He was used to hearing them continue on down the street toward Sara-Beth’s by now, but he wasn’t used to hearing the sound of a horse being tied up to his post box. His mouth was a little dry. Johnny might have been a bit more troublesome at home, but Anna-Marie was all spit and spark like her mother without her mother’s natural sense of when to cut it back.

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Even the Losers

Two cars park on the overpass, rocks hit the water like broken glass. I shoulda known right then it was too good to last, God, it’s such a drag to have to live in the past.

Seryl 10th, 1513 – Carico Estate, Lothianshire, Albion

“If you don’t mind my saying… you are an idiot, brother dear. I love you. But you’re an idiot.” A voice whispered in Josh’s ear, causing him to jump and almost slam the library door.

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Being a year older certainly hadn’t softened his sister any. Well, with Bet, he supposed that was only to be expected. He was a thin cover of fragile marble laid over a marshmallow center, Elizabet was diamond from the core out, only her physical appearance usually granted her any softness at all.

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And I guess I lost my way

Trigger Warning: All of the following are implied in the following post, though none of it is pictured or explicit: Pedophilia, underage prostitution, rape/statutory rape, slavery/sex slavery. Again, not a happy post.

Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends, I found myself further and further from my home.

Tyves 1st, 1513 – Carico estate, River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

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“Bet? What are you doing out here?” Josh asked as he walked down the stairs toward the stables where the two horses he asked to be saddled were waiting for him.

“Are you going somewhere?” Elizabet asked, without answering.

“Do you need me to stay?” He’d figure out some way to do it, if Elizabet were in trouble or having one of those feelings again. He didn’t quite know how, but he would. His “plans” for the evening could go hang, especially as he didn’t want to go at all.

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Trying To Connect the Dots

Last Friday night. Yeah I think we broke the law. Always say we’re gonna stop this Friday night do it all again.

Clatan 18th, 1513 – Outskirts of River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

Of all of the things that Darin had expected to be doing on St. Skip’s day, introducing the son and heir of the local baron to a crime lord was not one of them. However, as Darin watched Reggie and Joshua shake hands, that seemed to be exactly what he was doing. Of course if you’d asked him six weeks ago what he planned on doing on St. Skip’s day, he would have had to pause for a second to remember what day it even was, and told you that he expected to spend it either at home studying or at one of his friends’ with maybe a jaunt over to the Boar.

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When It Is Quiet and Still

Change what I can and pray the hope will not disappear.

Darid 20th, 1513 – Outskirts of River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

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The fire was almost embers and it seemed like every creak-pop-fizzle that came from it was specifically designed to make it all that much harder for Darin to get to sleep. The bench wasn’t uncomfortable, sure he couldn’t stretch out, but he tended to sleep curled up on one side anyway. The cushion was burlap, but worn soft by at least a decade of sitters and stuffed with wool. Even the temperature of the room without shirt, vest or coat was fairly comfortable and Darin had no inclination to go hunt up a spare blanket.

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But I Know I’ll Do the Right Thing

TRIGGER WARNING: Blood and violence!

I am nothing more than a little boy inside that cries out for attention yet I always try to hide

Darid 20, 1513 – The Black Boar Tavern, River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

Darin sighed as he rounded the corner, these tutoring sessions were almost more of a pain than they were worth. But it was something that Sara-Beth couldn’t object to as a way for him to earn pocket money, though she still glared something fierce if he so much as put a clipped copper in the cookie jar that they kept their savings in. She could immediately tell, no matter how full it was, just by looking in the jar. Even if he buried his two coppers in the bottom she seemed to be able to tell.

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I Can Read the Writing On the Wall

“When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, it’s a wonder I can think at all.”

Darid 1, 1513 – River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

“Mama!” Raven tried to ignore her daughter for a moment as she juggled two bottles of hard cider and a plate of rarebit around the chair and onto the table. “Mama, he’s doing it again!”

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“Is he still wearing clothes?” Raven asked cracking the cap off the bottle on the table.

“…Aye.” Anna-Marie said from her place somewhere behind Raven’s left shoulder.

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Wasting Away Again in Margaritaville

Warning: Bare toddler butt

“Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame…”

Imsdyn 7th, 1513 – River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

The early morning light, thin and spiteful, barely scratched at the weathered parchment stretched over the small window. It would be so easy to ignore the light creeping in, to roll over and go back to sleep. Except now that the light had given it’s cue, there were a hundred other minor discomforts that would make pulling the gray fog back over his head like a blanket impossible. There was an errant piece of straw poking up from his mattress, jammed somewhere into his thigh near something he might eventually want to make use of. Something else was informing him it was time to go find the privy. His shoulders and neck were telling him they needed to move if he wanted to use them any time today they needed to be relieved of their own pressures.

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