Post by devante on Oct 19, 2011 19:20:10 GMT -1
Situated on the Greenwich Meridian, in a gap in the South Downs, cut through by the River Ouse, is a small county town named Lewes lying like a box of toys under a great amphitheater of chalk. The great South Downs rose above the river on both banks nestling the town comfortably. The town itself had seen many years in its time, hiding the many secrets all the way back from the Roman’s.
The year had rolled around quickly slowing back down just at the end of October. The streets where busy with cars moving from destination to destination working like a hive of ants to enter the busy city Brighton or make their way to greater places like London. The 1:55 train from Eastbourne attained at the Lewes platform slowly wheezing to a stop casting a great shadow over the oblivious crowd awaiting their own train. The doors smoothly opened giving way to a spillage of pedestrians ranging from workers to college or school students attending the Sussex Downs College, words lapping over one another with the first world issues that plagued their minds. The last to exit from the bottom carriage of the train where two striking individuals that somehow managed to mould in with the crowd of thousands despite their unique getup. The first of the couple was an exceedingly elevated man with a long-limbed body tinted in fine-looking Victorian clothing. His extensive black sinewy hair veiled underneath a fine top-hat coloured the same as the man's hair. Beneath the shadow cast from the rim of his hat stood a pair of golden eyes that seemed to absorb the rays of the sun. At his side holding onto his white gloved hand stood a small girl no older than five dressed in a black Lolita dress that reached down to her knee-caps. The hem of the dress along with the lining down the middle had been decorated with red bunny rabbits, each sitting in pairs with a love heart placed above them. Their eyes typically had been made overly big to appeal to others as cute. The small child had flaming red hair pinned up into a high pony-tail with her puffy fringe swept to the side to compliment her child-like face. And at the crown of her head was a small golden halo with two white hand-made wings on her back. The tall man leant down and pressed his free hand on the girls forehead showing the concern that one can only obtain through a strong bond with the person in hand. The girl swayed gently as she watched the on-going crowd, her delicate glass like eyes closed hiding their unique purple and silver iris's. The most striking thing about the two children was the fact they had extremely pale skin, as if they had died and roamed the earth with unfinished business.
"It's alright Saraneth sweetie, your big brother will take you to the place soon.. Daddy and Grandfather will be there just you wait. And we'll get you Tibbers too, he can share your bed and you will be able to rest as much as you want. Just hold on a little longer for me..." Devante wrapped his arms around his sister's body pulling her up into his arms, cradling her as if she was a delicate flower. The place around them proved difficult to manoeuvre with his sister in his arms, but he wouldn't let that deter him from his objective. Swiftly side-stepping on-coming pedestrians Devante ascended the stairs that lead to a bridge the way out of the station. A sharp turn to the right showed the line of people waiting to exit, navigating his way to the line he pressed his hand against Saraneth's forehead. She was heating up quickly, he could hear the soft mumbles of her voice, he couldn't lose her here. Shoving past the line he made his way to the conductor holding out his two tickets with a pleading expression on his face "Please sir, I have to get through to see a doctor." Looking down at Saraneth the conductor quirked a brow sizing up the situation before accepting the ticket. It was undeniable this girl was sick and needed help. Opening the gate Devante dashed out onto the street moving across the road towards that small Tudor house.
The house they reached was a 15th century timber-framed Wealden hall-house that formed part of Anne of Cleves divorce settlement from Henry VIII in 1541. Outside the pathway had eroded so that the road and itself had become one, Devante shifted Saraneth to his other shoulder before knocking on the door in a quick succession of five beats. The door opened to reveal a woman with short blonde hair covered in flour dressed in a messy apron. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose she stared at Devante before nodding opening the door fully for him to enter. "Hello there master A'vron please please come and make yourself at home I t'was just maing a wee bit of dinner for yee guests. Yee use te' wee room upstairs and let the poor lass rest." She indicated towards to upstairs room tapping her nose. "Not a word on my part m'lord. Master. Sir. Poor hen.." She gazed sadly down at Saraneth before closing the door and moving back down the small corridor. Devante stepped in and bowed before rushing upstairs, that lady was Mary-Anne the cook who had been friends with his mother and agreed to house Saraneth and himself for as long as this job was to go on for. Placing Saraneth down on the bed he sighed heavily taking off his top-hat running his hands through his hair. "Saraneth-..." She was burning up, her breathing hastened as she shook her head violently mumbling incoherent rambles that didn't make sense. Yet. Marry-Anne had already layed out a bowl of cold water and a flannel inwhich Devante respectivly placed on his sister's forehead, placing Tibbers her teddy in her arms with a thin blanket pulled over her small frame.
Moving outside Devante pressed his gloved knuckle to the wooden wall staring around. The house contained a wide variety of pottery with furnishing to reflect the earlier period for public viewing. A picture hung on the landing just above the last step of the earlier period of Lewes clearly displaying the ironwork gallery that used to be here. Devante had hoped he would have been able to view the artefacts from fire backs and cannon to boot-scrapers and chimney backs that influenced Sussex's industry. But right now he had to persevere and wait for Isaan or his father to show up, before Saraneth had her viewing of the future. She normally didn't have an issue with prophesising small things, she had told their family it was like watching a television with a bad connection unscrambling certain images and phrases. But other-times when something bad was going to happen, she went into a terrible state of unconsciousness, gaining a high fever and a weak body. Saraneth would later when her fever peaks speak clearly for the first time and tell those in ear shot what was going to occur. It was never good.
When it first happened Isaan, Devante and Saraneth's grandfather had taken their father and mother into a separate room and discussed for the night what should be done about her gift. The only thing Devante was told with his eldest sister was to contact either father or Isaan when it was happening. Devante had sent word by familiar to Isaan and his father in the form of Jeremy and a Raven a night ago stating he would arrive in Lewes today. He had been limited on what powers he could use in front of mortals and so he was forced to go to their families safe home at this part of the country. Shifting his weight Devante gripped his top-hat grimly staring at to door waiting with more worry than he could remember ever feeling. Perhaps another Dragos member would arrive with them... who ever came to hear the young prophet speak it wouldn't have been soon enough for Devante who felt as if his world was shaking at the thought of his sister dying in his care.
The year had rolled around quickly slowing back down just at the end of October. The streets where busy with cars moving from destination to destination working like a hive of ants to enter the busy city Brighton or make their way to greater places like London. The 1:55 train from Eastbourne attained at the Lewes platform slowly wheezing to a stop casting a great shadow over the oblivious crowd awaiting their own train. The doors smoothly opened giving way to a spillage of pedestrians ranging from workers to college or school students attending the Sussex Downs College, words lapping over one another with the first world issues that plagued their minds. The last to exit from the bottom carriage of the train where two striking individuals that somehow managed to mould in with the crowd of thousands despite their unique getup. The first of the couple was an exceedingly elevated man with a long-limbed body tinted in fine-looking Victorian clothing. His extensive black sinewy hair veiled underneath a fine top-hat coloured the same as the man's hair. Beneath the shadow cast from the rim of his hat stood a pair of golden eyes that seemed to absorb the rays of the sun. At his side holding onto his white gloved hand stood a small girl no older than five dressed in a black Lolita dress that reached down to her knee-caps. The hem of the dress along with the lining down the middle had been decorated with red bunny rabbits, each sitting in pairs with a love heart placed above them. Their eyes typically had been made overly big to appeal to others as cute. The small child had flaming red hair pinned up into a high pony-tail with her puffy fringe swept to the side to compliment her child-like face. And at the crown of her head was a small golden halo with two white hand-made wings on her back. The tall man leant down and pressed his free hand on the girls forehead showing the concern that one can only obtain through a strong bond with the person in hand. The girl swayed gently as she watched the on-going crowd, her delicate glass like eyes closed hiding their unique purple and silver iris's. The most striking thing about the two children was the fact they had extremely pale skin, as if they had died and roamed the earth with unfinished business.
"It's alright Saraneth sweetie, your big brother will take you to the place soon.. Daddy and Grandfather will be there just you wait. And we'll get you Tibbers too, he can share your bed and you will be able to rest as much as you want. Just hold on a little longer for me..." Devante wrapped his arms around his sister's body pulling her up into his arms, cradling her as if she was a delicate flower. The place around them proved difficult to manoeuvre with his sister in his arms, but he wouldn't let that deter him from his objective. Swiftly side-stepping on-coming pedestrians Devante ascended the stairs that lead to a bridge the way out of the station. A sharp turn to the right showed the line of people waiting to exit, navigating his way to the line he pressed his hand against Saraneth's forehead. She was heating up quickly, he could hear the soft mumbles of her voice, he couldn't lose her here. Shoving past the line he made his way to the conductor holding out his two tickets with a pleading expression on his face "Please sir, I have to get through to see a doctor." Looking down at Saraneth the conductor quirked a brow sizing up the situation before accepting the ticket. It was undeniable this girl was sick and needed help. Opening the gate Devante dashed out onto the street moving across the road towards that small Tudor house.
The house they reached was a 15th century timber-framed Wealden hall-house that formed part of Anne of Cleves divorce settlement from Henry VIII in 1541. Outside the pathway had eroded so that the road and itself had become one, Devante shifted Saraneth to his other shoulder before knocking on the door in a quick succession of five beats. The door opened to reveal a woman with short blonde hair covered in flour dressed in a messy apron. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose she stared at Devante before nodding opening the door fully for him to enter. "Hello there master A'vron please please come and make yourself at home I t'was just maing a wee bit of dinner for yee guests. Yee use te' wee room upstairs and let the poor lass rest." She indicated towards to upstairs room tapping her nose. "Not a word on my part m'lord. Master. Sir. Poor hen.." She gazed sadly down at Saraneth before closing the door and moving back down the small corridor. Devante stepped in and bowed before rushing upstairs, that lady was Mary-Anne the cook who had been friends with his mother and agreed to house Saraneth and himself for as long as this job was to go on for. Placing Saraneth down on the bed he sighed heavily taking off his top-hat running his hands through his hair. "Saraneth-..." She was burning up, her breathing hastened as she shook her head violently mumbling incoherent rambles that didn't make sense. Yet. Marry-Anne had already layed out a bowl of cold water and a flannel inwhich Devante respectivly placed on his sister's forehead, placing Tibbers her teddy in her arms with a thin blanket pulled over her small frame.
Moving outside Devante pressed his gloved knuckle to the wooden wall staring around. The house contained a wide variety of pottery with furnishing to reflect the earlier period for public viewing. A picture hung on the landing just above the last step of the earlier period of Lewes clearly displaying the ironwork gallery that used to be here. Devante had hoped he would have been able to view the artefacts from fire backs and cannon to boot-scrapers and chimney backs that influenced Sussex's industry. But right now he had to persevere and wait for Isaan or his father to show up, before Saraneth had her viewing of the future. She normally didn't have an issue with prophesising small things, she had told their family it was like watching a television with a bad connection unscrambling certain images and phrases. But other-times when something bad was going to happen, she went into a terrible state of unconsciousness, gaining a high fever and a weak body. Saraneth would later when her fever peaks speak clearly for the first time and tell those in ear shot what was going to occur. It was never good.
When it first happened Isaan, Devante and Saraneth's grandfather had taken their father and mother into a separate room and discussed for the night what should be done about her gift. The only thing Devante was told with his eldest sister was to contact either father or Isaan when it was happening. Devante had sent word by familiar to Isaan and his father in the form of Jeremy and a Raven a night ago stating he would arrive in Lewes today. He had been limited on what powers he could use in front of mortals and so he was forced to go to their families safe home at this part of the country. Shifting his weight Devante gripped his top-hat grimly staring at to door waiting with more worry than he could remember ever feeling. Perhaps another Dragos member would arrive with them... who ever came to hear the young prophet speak it wouldn't have been soon enough for Devante who felt as if his world was shaking at the thought of his sister dying in his care.