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KokoBandit · 01-31-2013, 02:19 AM

Alyssa looked from Charles, to her daughter, to Mr. Garrettson. She sighed silently as her husband took Nigel from the room. Darn. Now all she had was her daughter. On the other and... All she had was her daughter. She sat back in her chair. "Well. You two make quite the pair," was all she commented, eager to allow Elinor to say whatever she might. It was entertaining. She was very curious, though, as to what Charles wanted with Nigel. She was a little annoyed, actually. Alyssa didn't like being left out of tings that were suppossed to be for her. I.E.: This meeting...

Charles led the young man from the sitting room and down the hallway, towards the study. Once out of earshot, he could not wait a moment more to say, "I'll bet you've never wanted out of a room so badly in your life, hm?" He offered a smile, hoping that Nigel might look a little less like he was going to be sick. Charles opened the door to the study and closed it behind them. It was a spacious room, with a fireplace opposite the door, a low fire inside, and a large desk on the left. The bookshelves were high, and a couple of paintings adorned the walls. On the desk was a bottle of cognac, which he promptly opened, poured a glass, and upon handing it to Nigel, gestured to an armchair on the other side of the fireplace. "Please. Have a seat, Mr. Garrettson." Before you keel over.

Carles poured imself a glass, but did not sit down. Instead, he took a couple of sips, listening for a moment to see if e would hear yelling from the other room. When none reached him, he stared into the fire for a few moments and drew in a breath. His thoughts weren't completely collected, but they probably never would be.

"Tell me something, Mr. Garrettson, do you know Elinor? I mean, could you tell me what her favorite perfume smells like? Her favorite season? When she's nervous, does she play with the hem of her clothes? When she looks at you, do you know what she's thinking? Could you tell me how her eyes sparkle when she turns towards the light?" He let that sink in for a second before pacing away.

"I ask, Mr. Garrettson, because Elinor is unlike anyone else in the family. Alyssa has always... had trouble being Elinor's mother, because she's so different. Elinor is the youngest of our three daughters, and so she was doted on excessively. We gave her everything a parent wants to give their child. She had all the books she could ever read, every toy or bauble that we thought she would love. We gave her the best that money could buy. Dressed her in the finest clothes. Anything her heart desired, I made sure it was hers... But, tell me, Mr. Garrettson... Do you think she was happy? Does Elinor strike you as the type of woman who could be made happy by things?" Charles looked at the slender man and waited a few moments. The question could be a rhetorical one, but he waited all the same.

"Elinor and her mother have never gotten along." He gestured to a painting hanging on the wall. A beautiful landscape with bright blues and pinks. "Alyssa looks at a painting and sees only what it is worth. She sees things in money." To illustrate his point, he lifted a vase from the desk, and then, as though he were tossing a toy to a cat, let it drop to the floor. It shattered into thirty or forty shards at his feet. Charles didn't blink an eye.

"To Elinor's mother, all that means to her is... A number. However much that vase was worth, that's all she cares about. To Elinor... she looks at a painting and sees beauty. It's not... money that makes her happy. And Alyssa never understood that. Alyssa looks at people and sees blood and wealth and physical demeanor. She looked at Elinor's previous husband and saw only his blood status. Alyssa looks at you and... well... I must apologize for my wife's aggressiveness," he added on his train of thought.

"But Elinor is not like Alyssa. Elinor looks at a person and sees their hopes... and dreams... She can look at a person and see them. I don't know who she got that trait from. In my past years, I was, admittedly, just as shallow. I didn't understand why Elinor was so unlike her sisters, who were placated with money. I didn't understand why she would rather wear old clothes than go out and buy new ones. I didn't understand why her best friends were of mixed heritage, and she didn't care. I never understood how to make my daughter happy," he admitted, raising his glass and taking a long drink from it. "But Elinor has a way of making you see things differently."

Charles cast a glance at Nigel. If he knew Elinor at all, surely he had experienced something similar? Because Elinor DID have a way of turning your life on end, making you see things you didn't see before. He looked away again.

"And so... When Clarice informed us that Elinor was in love with someone... I was jealous," he smiled thoughtfully. "Because... I could never make Elinor happy. I didn't know how. I was hoping, almost, that she had turned out like the rest of us. Shallow and heartless. James was a very nice young man. But we didn't care-- We only cared that he was pureblooded and well-off. After he died, I realized..."

Charles had slowly crossed over to Nigel and stared down at him.

"It takes a very special kind of person to win her heart. Not just anyone will do, Mr. Garrettson. And so... When I heard that she was in love, I knew... When I learned that she was going to bring you here-- Subject you to this, I knew. And when I saw you sitting together, I knew. I saw the way you look at each other, the way she leans into you. And I can see by the way you sit and listen that you are not just 'any person'. I don't know how much thought you have given the matter, Mr. Garrettson, but, if I may be so bold, I am going to point it out to you."

Another pause here, as Charles wanted to make sure the boy absorbed every word.

"My daughter.... loves you... more than anything in this world. She has decided that she wants to spend every waking, breathing moment with you, and only you. You make her happy. And she wants more than anything to make you happy. I don't know how much you've thought about it, Mr. Garrettson, but you think about it now, and you think about it hard. Do you love her? Do you really love her? Do you want to make her happy? Do you want more than anything to see her smile? To hear her laugh? Because that's what she wants for you. That's all she wants. That's all she cares about is you. Because that's the kind of person she is."

He took another drink and turned away, but added, almost urgently:

"That's the kind of person I want her to have... I don't deserve to have her for a daughter... I'm a shallow old man with nothing to show of his life but... Priceless paintings and... a drafty house."

He fell silent, aware that the things he wanted to say didn't come out quite right, but... It was the best he could muster at the moment.

01-31-2013, 02:19 AM	#35 (permalink)
KokoBandit Red Cap Join Date: Jul 2012 Posts: 71 Hogwarts RPG Name: Silas McAther Fifth Year	Alyssa looked from Charles, to her daughter, to Mr. Garrettson. She sighed silently as her husband took Nigel from the room. Darn. Now all she had was her daughter. On the other and... All she had was her daughter. She sat back in her chair. "Well. You two make quite the pair," was all she commented, eager to allow Elinor to say whatever she might. It was entertaining. She was very curious, though, as to what Charles wanted with Nigel. She was a little annoyed, actually. Alyssa didn't like being left out of tings that were suppossed to be for her. I.E.: This meeting... Charles led the young man from the sitting room and down the hallway, towards the study. Once out of earshot, he could not wait a moment more to say, "I'll bet you've never wanted out of a room so badly in your life, hm?" He offered a smile, hoping that Nigel might look a little less like he was going to be sick. Charles opened the door to the study and closed it behind them. It was a spacious room, with a fireplace opposite the door, a low fire inside, and a large desk on the left. The bookshelves were high, and a couple of paintings adorned the walls. On the desk was a bottle of cognac, which he promptly opened, poured a glass, and upon handing it to Nigel, gestured to an armchair on the other side of the fireplace. "Please. Have a seat, Mr. Garrettson." Before you keel over. Carles poured imself a glass, but did not sit down. Instead, he took a couple of sips, listening for a moment to see if e would hear yelling from the other room. When none reached him, he stared into the fire for a few moments and drew in a breath. His thoughts weren't completely collected, but they probably never would be. "Tell me something, Mr. Garrettson, do you know Elinor? I mean, could you tell me what her favorite perfume smells like? Her favorite season? When she's nervous, does she play with the hem of her clothes? When she looks at you, do you know what she's thinking? Could you tell me how her eyes sparkle when she turns towards the light?" He let that sink in for a second before pacing away. "I ask, Mr. Garrettson, because Elinor is unlike anyone else in the family. Alyssa has always... had trouble being Elinor's mother, because she's so different. Elinor is the youngest of our three daughters, and so she was doted on excessively. We gave her everything a parent wants to give their child. She had all the books she could ever read, every toy or bauble that we thought she would love. We gave her the best that money could buy. Dressed her in the finest clothes. Anything her heart desired, I made sure it was hers... But, tell me, Mr. Garrettson... Do you think she was happy? Does Elinor strike you as the type of woman who could be made happy by things?" Charles looked at the slender man and waited a few moments. The question could be a rhetorical one, but he waited all the same. "Elinor and her mother have never gotten along." He gestured to a painting hanging on the wall. A beautiful landscape with bright blues and pinks. "Alyssa looks at a painting and sees only what it is worth. She sees things in money." To illustrate his point, he lifted a vase from the desk, and then, as though he were tossing a toy to a cat, let it drop to the floor. It shattered into thirty or forty shards at his feet. Charles didn't blink an eye. "To Elinor's mother, all that means to her is... A number. However much that vase was worth, that's all she cares about. To Elinor... she looks at a painting and sees beauty. It's not... money that makes her happy. And Alyssa never understood that. Alyssa looks at people and sees blood and wealth and physical demeanor. She looked at Elinor's previous husband and saw only his blood status. Alyssa looks at you and... well... I must apologize for my wife's aggressiveness," he added on his train of thought. "But Elinor is not like Alyssa. Elinor looks at a person and sees their hopes... and dreams... She can look at a person and see them. I don't know who she got that trait from. In my past years, I was, admittedly, just as shallow. I didn't understand why Elinor was so unlike her sisters, who were placated with money. I didn't understand why she would rather wear old clothes than go out and buy new ones. I didn't understand why her best friends were of mixed heritage, and she didn't care. I never understood how to make my daughter happy," he admitted, raising his glass and taking a long drink from it. "But Elinor has a way of making you see things differently." Charles cast a glance at Nigel. If he knew Elinor at all, surely he had experienced something similar? Because Elinor DID have a way of turning your life on end, making you see things you didn't see before. He looked away again. "And so... When Clarice informed us that Elinor was in love with someone... I was jealous," he smiled thoughtfully. "Because... I could never make Elinor happy. I didn't know how. I was hoping, almost, that she had turned out like the rest of us. Shallow and heartless. James was a very nice young man. But we didn't care-- We only cared that he was pureblooded and well-off. After he died, I realized..." Charles had slowly crossed over to Nigel and stared down at him. "It takes a very special kind of person to win her heart. Not just anyone will do, Mr. Garrettson. And so... When I heard that she was in love, I knew... When I learned that she was going to bring you here-- Subject you to this, I knew. And when I saw you sitting together, I knew. I saw the way you look at each other, the way she leans into you. And I can see by the way you sit and listen that you are not just 'any person'. I don't know how much thought you have given the matter, Mr. Garrettson, but, if I may be so bold, I am going to point it out to you." Another pause here, as Charles wanted to make sure the boy absorbed every word. "My daughter.... loves you... more than anything in this world. She has decided that she wants to spend every waking, breathing moment with you, and only you. You make her happy. And she wants more than anything to make you happy. I don't know how much you've thought about it, Mr. Garrettson, but you think about it now, and you think about it hard. Do you love her? Do you really love her? Do you want to make her happy? Do you want more than anything to see her smile? To hear her laugh? Because that's what she wants for you. That's all she wants. That's all she cares about is you. Because that's the kind of person she is." He took another drink and turned away, but added, almost urgently: "That's the kind of person I want her to have... I don't deserve to have her for a daughter... I'm a shallow old man with nothing to show of his life but... Priceless paintings and... a drafty house." He fell silent, aware that the things he wanted to say didn't come out quite right, but... It was the best he could muster at the moment.