acontritemess | City Pains

City Pains

[It has been years since Johnathan left the safety and comfort of his forest. In the time of his father’s outburst civilization has thrived and spread at, what Johnathan considered, alarming speeds. Soon there will be nothing left and he’ll be choked just like the earth. Idealism and hate fuel him and set him forward, his aim set on changing or stunting this industrial revolution. He doesn’t care who might be caught in the cross fire.

Stepping pass the city limits and into the bustle of the city cripples him more than he expects.

His hand clenches his stomach, his eyes falling to the ground as he gasps for air. Nausea rolls through his gut and after a few stumbling steps forward he slumps against a wall and begins throwing up. His head swims and his breath becomes labored and harsh as he pushes himself off the wall and forward. It’s the first time he’s felt disconnected with the plant and it hurts more than he could endure. His father must have felt it too though time has only rooted the sickness. If his father couldn’t survive how could he?

A few blocks forward and Johnathan collapses; he doesn’t notice those passing on the street and they are equally keen to ignore him, thinking him to be some drunken fool. His dark hair is disheveled and his clothes are unkempt and covered in dirt.

How can they do this to the earth?

Anger swells within him, a hot furry that he hadn’t ever known. His father had been fighting this and yet here they are. Passing him on the streets without so much as a glance his way, not caring how they abuse the world that’s done so much for them. He pulls himself up, using the wall to keep himself steady and begins to fight the uncomfortable feelings nagging at his senses.

They’ll pay.

Vengeance pushes him forward but only a few steps before he falls again. This time his knees crack against the pavement making him cringe as pain shoots through his legs. Bile fills his mouth again and he empties what’s left of his stomach on the street.]

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[The midday sun had finally worked it's magic and burned away most of the mist that often gathered in Newcastle. The sky, a blue arch overhead, at least where the buildings permitted its view, had always been a comfort to the girl, and reminder that beauty could be found anywhere if one simply knew where to look. She and her servant girl, Margie, were making their way back to the carriages at the edge of the market, fully intending to return to her father's estate outside the city, when she saw the unfortunate soul. He was across the street, clearly in pain, and her first instinct was to rush to his aid. She spent many of her says at the soup kitchen in the poorer district of the city, much to her father's chagrin, and this man, while dirty and clearly ill, was possessing of clothes of a rough spin, but not threadbare.

She crossed the street in his direction, Margie tugging at her sleep.]

Miss Constance, what are you doing? That make is clearly a drunken wastrel. What would your father say?

[Constance turned a defiant eye to her servant, chin held high.]

Let his say what he will, Margie. I'd offer that drunken wastrel the same kindness.

[Margie's expression withered, though in her eyes was a response clear enough. "Never let your father hear you saying things like that, Miss."

Constance shook her head and finished her crossing of the street while Margie lagged behind, not daring to cross, as though the street offered her some sort of protection from being an accomplice.

She was careful to keep her day shoes from any mess this poor man had made, and she pulled her skirts up to keep them from the filth of the street as she crouched nearer the man to be heard over the bustle of the city's market district.]

Sir, can you hear me? [She noted something odd, though. She'd been unfortunate enough to endure her father's drunken trysts often enough to recognize the smell of liquor, which was decidedly lacking on this side of the street.

Ill, then.] There is a clinic nearby. I can have my driver take you. My name is Constance.

[He feels the shadow casting over him though his eyes remain shut and the world tumbles into infinite darkness around him. He ignores it at first, hoping that, like the others, they'll just leave him to his misery. When she speaks her tone is light, feminine but strong and kind. It reminds him of the rustling wind or the cool touch of water beneath the sun.

His eyes remain closed and he doesn't move except for the slight tremor thats begin to shake his hands.]

Eh, lass. [His voice is strained and broken.] I be hearin' you.

[It'll be obvious that Johnathan doesn't speak to people much. He hasn't learned pomp and circumstance and knows little of the changes to socity over the last forty years.]

No clinic will be taken me and no cure is found in one.

[He needs a forest. He needs his forest.]

The city be the poison.

Well, you have a flair for theatrics, I'll give you that.

[Constance reaches into her handbag, pulling her handkerchief from within, and reaches out to wipe the sweat from his brow. She doesn't feel any fever there, either. Strange, considering how ill he's been.]

If money's your concern, there's no reason to fret over that.

Eh, I've been told.

[Johnathan feels a slight tug at the corner of his lips and he finally dares to open his eyes. His stomach flips but there is nothing left inside of it. He turns his head, keeping the weight of his torso on the wall to his right and tries to focus on the girl standing next to him. His hair isn't very long, trimmed to his shoulders and his eyes are dark, pained and clear.

She appears to be like the other passing on the street but unlike them she's looking directly at him.]

Money isn't my concern.

[Johnathan had meant what he said. This city is poison and the only way to be cured is to be free of it but he doesn't know how to explain that to anyone. No one has ever really understood his father so why would they him?]

[Constance crouches down beside him, offering him her handkerchief to wipe his mouth.]

Alright, then. What do you mean this city is a poison, aside from the obvious? And what am I to call you?

[Constance isn't much a fan of the city, herself, but she's never thought of it as a poison.]

[Johnathan takes the handkerchief and wipes at his lips. He then folds it and pockets it, not wanting to hand her back something that's been used. He watches her for a few seconds, listening to the ambient noises on the street as a distraction from the queasy feeling in his stomach.]

Ye askin' a lot of questions lass.

[His tone doesn't sound upset, he's just pointing it out.]

Johnathan.

I be needin' to find a park or trees. The streets... [He swallows looking pained.] ...loud.

I often do, sir. Do you take offense?

[She doesn't seem annoyed by his claiming of her kerchief, but instead frowns at his comment, thoughtful for a moment, before she stands, beckoning her servant over.

Margie hesitates before crossing the street, glancing down at Johnathan only briefly before looking to Constance.]

Yes, miss?

[Constance smiles at the girl, only three years younger than herself, and pulls a few shillings to tip their driver to her from her handbag.]

Return home. If father asks why you've returned without me, tell him I've decided to spend the afternoon helping the unfortunate of this city at the soup kitchens. That ought to keep him from asking too many questions.

[Margie, though, looks worried.] And what are you going to do, Miss Constance?

[Constance smiles again.] Visit the park. [She makes a shooing gesture.] Go on, then. Off with you. [Margie's young face creases with worry, but she heads off. It's not the first time Constance has done something foolish, but it's the first she done something like this.

After the servant is gone, Constance looks back to Johnathan.]

Can you stand?

Edited 2016-06-08 15:15 (UTC)

No.

[Johnathan replies before she turns towards her maid. His eyes lift up to the older woman, his expression sober and his gaze not particularly kind. She shouldn't trust her young charge with him, he knows that much and yet the firmness in her tone surprises him.

He hadn't thought that much would change in forty years but women do not speak like that. Interest stirs beneath the sickness and the idea of going to where there are trees makes him visibly relax. He'll hold it together, he won't be like his father.

Johnathan exhales a shaky breath wanting nothing more than to find this forest. He tries to reach out towards the earth but trapped within the building only makes his efforts cold and his dizziness redouble. His head falls forward and he begins panting softly.]

I... [His breath is labored and pained.] Might. Gimme a tad bit lass.

[Johnathan pushes himself up, moving his legs beneath him while his hand helped him stand. He doesn't reach out, he moves like a blind man depending on someone else to see. When he's standing he speaks again.]

Ye shouldn't be... [He looks down at her now that he's standing, his hand moving to push his hair from his eyes.] What if I be aiming to hurt ye?

[Concern creasing her young brow, she waits for him to collect himself before letting eyes the color of a summer sky meet his dark brown orbs. She simply holds his gaze for a moment before responding.]

Are you?

[A smirk tugs at the corner of Johnathan's lips. He holds her gaze for a long time before finally speak.]

No, [He's surprised at how honest his answer is.] If ye be helpin' me I'd be indebted to you lass.

[Johnathan has to close his eyes and shallow as a wave of nausea rushes over him. He isn't getting any easier to handle.]

I can assure you, there's no debt to be paid.

[For some reason, Constance believes him that all he needs is some fresh air to feel better.]

The park isn't far, but if you're to escort me like a proper gentleman, you should offer your arm, and you should offer your name.

[His eyebrow rises slightly and he tries his best to look composed. Perhaps he can fool them, if only for a short walk. His hand crosses over his chest and he bows. With his free hand he lightly takes Constance's hand, her fingers delicately held in his own as he introduces himself.]

Johnathan Calum Drummond.

[He raises his head up ignoring the thundering in his temples and the quickness of his breath. He guides her hand to lightly rest on his forearm as he takes a step next to her.]

And what do I call ye?

[Pleased at his adjustment, she gathers her skirts in her free hand and begins to lead them through the crowded streets of Newcastle.]

That depends, Mister Drummond. How informal do you wish to be?

[He shakes his head, allowing her to snake them through the crowd. Holding her like this makes it easier, as if he's able to focus on her instead of the earth that's crying beneath his feet. He almost thought to tell her and then remember his fathers lessons.

She wouldn't understand.]

I'm new to this city and it's classes. [The words are spoken with less of an accident. He's noticed stares and has no interest in starting a fight when he's already feeling so weak.]

I'll leave the choices to the sweet lass on me arm.

Edited 2016-06-09 00:11 (UTC)

They're the same classes you'll find all over England. [She smiles up at him, though she's trying her hardest not to be charmed by the man on whose arms she's found herself.

It's proving very difficult.]

My name is Constance Amelia Marcus, and you, sir, may call me what you will.

[He hasn't been all over England, at least not recently. It's a fact that's begun to change. He nods his head as they step forward taking note of what she says however not commenting on it. He still isn't sure how much he should tell her.]

Constance?

[He repeats the name feeling a smile tug at his lips.]

It suits ye. [Johnathan feels himself waver, one foot stepping to far to the right. His free hand quickly moves to rest on hers hoping that he doesn't topple her over.]

It suits me? [She laughed prettily, but her smile faltered when he stumbled and she reached to his hand, dropping her skirts in the process.]

Are you alright? Do you need to rest? [They hadn't come far, but his condition was drastically improved from what it had been and it was possible he was experiencing a relapse.]

[Johnathan exhales a slow breath and shakes his head.]

Ken (no), I be needed to get to that forest.

[His lips pull into a rare smile when he looks down at her. His dark brown eyes glinting as if sharing in humor that most in the world don't see. Hate, discomfort and innocents reflects in those eyes. The sort of person who knows so much and yet so little.]

Constance. In latin be full of purpose. In name be full of beauty.

[He exhales slowly but continues speaking and stepping forward.]

Amelia. In latin be seeded in work. In name be loved.

[Johnathan continues to talk, using his words as a distraction. He doesn't want to simply give into the feeling of the choked earth and yet it's nothing like he's ever felt before. Each step tears at his nerves and stresses his senses.]

Marcus. [He coughs, turning his head away from her as his stomach turns.] In latin be a name of strength thought to be fresh of harvest. [The word brings forth smells and memories for John but he continues focusing on each word and the memory of things he'd be taught.] Or of war. In name it be allure and stature.

[As they continue to walk he begins to feel the subtle pull of wildlife, of trees, of something pure and alive. His steps become a little more sure though his forehead continues to dot with sweat.]

It suits ye.

[Constance was finding herself more and more enchanted by this strange man she should on the street, and she tried to make a conscious note not to let that slip too far. Men could be tigers, and this one was likely no exception. He was kind now, unfortunate, but if her brothers were to be believed, so had their father been, once upon a time.]

Why the forest, Johnathan?

[He exhales a slow breath, his eyes looking forward as he spoke.]

It be my home. It be all our home but people have forgotten. [There is a mixture of sadness, sickness and anger in his voice. He hates it, he hates that people who once took care of the planet would hurt her and he hates that he can't do anything to save it.

Not alone.]

[Constance looks slightly confused. She's heard tales, of course, of creatures of the forest, but that's all they are. Stories.]

I feel as though you're speaking the truth, but I don't think I understand, Johnathan.

[He lets out a weak laugh.]

It better if I show ye.

[It isn't hard to explain however his focus is divided and it's difficult to think straight when a small sanctuary might be waiting for him within the city. Maybe in time he'll get used to the sick feeling but he hadn't been prepared for it.]

[Curious and intrigued by this strange man, Constance smiled, giving his arm a squeeze.]

The park is just around that yonder corner.

[Johnathan's lips tug into a smirk though his gaze remains fixed forward. He can feel the forest as they step closer and he needs that feeling. It isn't perfect but it's like a ray of sunshine in the darkness and it's the only sliver of hope he needs.]

I feel it.

[There is a note of warmth in his voice that hadn't been there before.]

[The more she walked with him, the strangers things were he said, but he'd also mentioned showing her, so she would be patient until they reached the park.

It wasn't much, as parks went, but there was a small wooded area, leafy green and inviting. She loved sitting under the trees sometimes and reading.]

Do you feel better, Johnathan?

[Johnathan inhales a slow breath, tasting the sweetness of the earth and it's call to him. When he steps on the grass he feels a thrill shot through his leg, the sort of feeling he had when he first connected with the planet.

Slowly his nausea subsides and his stride becomes more sure and a little bit cocky. His hand lightly moves to rest on Constance's as he guides her deeper into the small wooded area. It's only when they were alone and obscured from view that he stopped.]

Thank ye lass. [He looks over at her and smiles as he reaches towards the earth.] As trysted. (promised)

[He reaches out feeling the comfortable coolness and stead fast of the ground, the turbulent breeze as it rustles over the tips of the branches, the soft richness of the dirt; god this feels like home. He doesn't move but he feels the subtle acceptance of the land around him, rising up to greet him.

At their feet there is growth, a bright yellow daffodil sprouts from the ground and after a second Johnathan reaches down to pick it. In his hand in continues to grow until it's fully bloomed. He presents it to her watching her face for some sort of reaction.]

The forest is my home and I am its protectur.

[Constance has never believed in magic. The idea of it has never entered her mind. She watches the flower erupt from the ground at Johnathan's command, her eyes wide with wonder, and is hesitant to take the flower at first, looking at it, then back to Johnathan.]

You...are you a faerie?

[Johnathan's brow furrows.]

No lass, the fae are a brand all their own.

[He chuckles at that as if sharing a private joke.]

I be a Druid.

[Her eyes sparkle with interest.]

A druid? Like from the old stories? [She claps a hand over her mouth and looks down bashfully.] That's not to say I don't believe you, of course.

Aye lass.

[Johnathan runs his fingers through his hair as he inhales a slow breath. Leaves, wind and dirt fill his senses easing the pain and nausea of the rumbling city.]

I haven't been in town for sometime. I donnea expect ye to simply trust or believe. [He's lost all hope that humans might continue to care for the earth. He likes to pretend that it doesn't bother him.] I'm indebted to ye. [Not that he knows how he'll get back. He'll just have to get used to the city.

Johnathan steps back, resting his shoulder blades against the tree behind him. His eyes look up towards the blue sky watching as rolling clouds drift overhead.]

[She pushes a strand of hair behind an ear as she watches this most curious man quietly for a moment. He's undeniably handsome, and there was something enchanting about his gaze. Maybe it was his powers, but she trusted him.]

Nonsense, Johnathan. I did what any decent human being would do.

[Johnathan flashes her a smile.]

That so? I be wandering down that street for awhile before ye arrived. [Human being and decency aren't two things that Johnathan thinks go together. He hasn't seen it except in her.]

They be killing the planet with their city and no one cares lass.

[He looks down feeling the literal weight of the world on his shoulders. Even here he an feel the sickness around him. He supposes he can get used to it but knowing that it'll only get worse.]

Yer different lass. [He releases a short laugh.] Constance.

[Johnathan looks up at her from his position against the trees roots. His expression is move open then before.] I wish their be more people like you in the world. [She really is something different.]

Some of us care, Johnathan. [She smiled sweetly up at him.] And while I did claim I did as any decent human being would do, I never claimed decency was common.

[Her smiles turns slightly mischievous.] Is that so? Mayhap I enjoy being special. If there were more like me, I wouldn't be.

[Johnathan looks down at her while a small smirk begins to tug at his usual charming smile. He hasn’t been to town before and he is oblivious to any social implication he might be missing. He knows a little from what he’s seen, he knows enough that she shouldn’t be alone with him and that there are very few with the sort of intelligence that gleams in her eyes. Her eyes were beautiful and if Johnathan let himself he could fall into them as if dipping his senses into the ocean.

His age isn’t etched into his face but his eyes. His eyes are deep and unlit like the bark of a dark pine. Even darker rings circle his pupil like the age lines of a tree.

He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair before glancing away and organizing his thoughts. A half second passes before he meets her gaze once more.] Aren’t you clever. [He doesn’t look upset by this fact.]

No matter what I wish lass, yer special. [He has no idea why he’s saying this.] So donnea be losen that eh? It might break my heart.

[She laughs then, a musical sound born as through from her soul, her eyes glittering with it.]

Johnathan! [She shakes her head.] I shan't entertain the thought. Who am I to have such responsibility over a heart?

[She pushes a stray bit of hair behind her ear, watching his eyes.]

Forgive me if this is too forward, but...we've only just met, and yet, I feel as though my soul has always known you.

[Johnathan smiles as her laugh fills the small space. It's a sound that he could get used to hearing.]

Ye be a lady and be it not the lady who steals and protects a mans heart?

[He exhales a soft sigh looking away from Constance and towards the tree towering over them.]

Ne Constance, souls touch on their own with little consent from us. [He feels it too though it's foolish to think it might be something more than it is.] I donnea be proper for you to linger here. Run home.

[He shoves his hands into his pockets enjoying the feel of the earth beneath his feet.]

Indeed, I suppose it is.

[Her tone is light and teasing as she continues.]

And so quick to be rid of me? Where shall I find you again?

Lass if I could I would keep ye close but ye have a home and a family.

[Two things he lacks.]

It be best if ye forget me.

[If she wants to be happy she should turn and leave.]

Why should I want to forget you, Johnathan? You are, by far, the most interesting man I've ever met.

[She continues to smile.] My family's manor is outside the city, north east. We have quite a bit of land. I think you might enjoy it.

[He chuckles softly while a feather light feeling begins to rise in his chest.]

Ye inviting me home lass? I cannea imagine the horror on yer fathers face. [It isn't a no but he wonders if she's really thought this through.

Johnathan doesn't consider himself worth her time. He's never been worth anyone's time before.]

[She laughed fully that time, shaking her head.]

Then it's I who has the better imagination, but I mean our manor sits on quite a bit of land. My father can't well police it all.

[He chuckles softly, his expression slowly softening around this eyes and smiles.]

Alright lass. I'll meet you there.

[Johnathan reaches forward and gently loops a bit of her hair between his fingers. He slowly pulls away watching as her hair slides elegantly through his fingers until it once again falls in front of her.]

I would love to see your land.

[He's a little curious about the land itself but he'd be liar if he began to think that she isn't haven't an influence on him. There is something about her that he can't let go and bit by bit he's realizing that he doesn't want too.]

[Constance toys with the flower he'd grown, looking over to him with a coy smile.]

I wager it would love to see you, as well.

[She’s beautiful, witty, kind and open. Johnathan distantly wonders if this is how his father felt when he met his mother. It’d explain everything and yet it leads Johnathan to more questions that he isn’t ready to ask.]

Then ye justs be needen’ to tell me where to be.

[He doesn’t think she’ll want him to escort her. He’ll need time here to get used to the city and it’s poison but what better motivation than having someone to see on the outside.]

[She smiles broadly and tells him the location before standing.]

And I really should be off, Johnathan, before my father becomes suspicious. We'll meet again soon.

[He can't help but smile at her.]

Ey lass, be well and be safe.

[As she turns to leave he continues to watch her.]

Constance.

[He whispers her name softly on the wind as if to commit it there.]

[She caught another carriage outside of town and headed back to her family's manor, memories of the strange and intriguing man distracting her during her drive. Luckily, father and her brothers were away on business when she returned, and she changed into a dress more suited to visiting the wood and headed out.

She didn't know if Johnathan would join her, but she allowed her mind to wander as the walked the grounds.]

[It takes Johnathan time to leave the city. He peeks from his hiding place, not caring that his clothing were ratty and worn. The further he steps from the small park the more he feels his stomach turn. Even at the edge of his senses he feels it like a festering wound swollen and marred at the edges.

The memory of a girl came to mind and he found a way to bury the feelings of the city. Other methods could come later but for now he had a reason to leave the tainted mark, someone is waiting for him.

He walks most of the way, taking hours to arrive anywhere close to the estate described to him. When he does arrive he pauses, inhaling the sweet scent of the earth. It instantly reminds him of her and as he walks through the grounds a smile touches his lips.

He spots a familiar shade of golden wheat and steps towards her. He keeps his steps silent, stopping just behind her and waiting so she knew he was there first.]

It looks like aye found ye. Thought I be lost.

[Johnathan takes a small step back allowing her space and the freedom to move. He continues to smile down at her and she'll most likely notice that he looks healthier than the first time that the met.]

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City Pains

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Want to seqway to her house? It'll take him time to get there

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