@alexandramoriiarty || continued from here

[SMS] Two days, three tops… if there isn’t anymore problems of course. SM

[SMS] If it’s urgent maybe I can help you. You can talk to me you know. SM

[Contact: Sophia] That long? Really? He’s been gone nearly ten days already. -X

[SMS] I miss him. Do you miss him too, Soph? I am sure that you must do by now. -X

[SMS] Do you ever regret meeting him though? Do you ever regret that you agreed to work for him? I want to talk to him about joining The Firm, you see, but he’s always said that he won’t tell me a thing about what it is like until I am ready. -X

[SMS] Do you think I’m ready, Soph? Do you think I could handle it? Whatever it is that he does, I mean? Do you think I could handle it ... Or do you think I would regret it later? -X

[Contact: Sophia] Oh, okay ... Did he say when he would be back now? -X

[SMS] It’s just, I’ve kind of got something that I need to talk to him about. Something urgent. But I know he doesn’t like to be bothered when he’s working. -X

Message me with “Hey there little one” to interact with my muse as a child

Send my character a ► and a command. They must obey.

Send me ‘five times + a word’ and I’ll write a drabble about our muses based on it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Xan replied with small, sly grin. She slapped his hands away from his collar and set about putting it straight herself. “I actually think you look kinda cute all dressed up like this. But then ag- Aha, there!”

Collar finally fixed, she took a step back from him to admire her handiwork. “But then again, I kinda miss the leather jacket too. It looks so damn good on you, Harry. You don’t look quite right without it.”

Raymond shrugged and left the shower to run. He was slightly annoyed she was anxious to get i to the shower. The only reason rishing her being, he was bloody terrified about their date. He just wanted to get it over and done with. However, his worries were shoved into the back of his mind for now and he walked back to his partners.

A pink hue filled Hemlock’s cheeks and he smiled proudly at what she said. “Y-Y-You fff-ffff-fin-finished ss-say-saying d- dear, d-dd-dear?” He joked.

Raymond too his jacket off Frazer’s shoulder. “Suits you.” He grunted before taking it off the curly haired boy’s shoulders. Frazer blushed even more now. Raymond’s eyes darted to Xan “You ready?” He asked softly.

“He’s so pretty that everything suits him,” said Xan, humming as she leaned in to give Frazer another kiss. “No, honestly, Fraze, you are. You’re so much prettier than I am and I can’t even be mad because - ugh - just look at that face! Look at it, Ray, and tell me that he isn’t the prettiest thing that you have ever seen in your life!”

Much cheered by this topic of conversation, she leaned over to kiss Raymond as well and then set about getting ready for her shower. Her jeans and jumper she deposited in the laundry hamper, then two towels were draped over the radiator, so that they would be nice and toasty warm for when she was done. “There. Yes. I’m ready-“ Finally. “-But please, love ... Try not to fret, okay? Tonight is going to be a lot of fun, and we are all going to enjoy it, you and me and Frazer, we are going to enjoy it all together.”

It was important that she told him this, important that he knew; she didn’t like the idea of him worrying that they were both going to leave him.

Character solidifying!

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have? 2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have? 3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings? 4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient? 5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered? 6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child? 7. What was the economic status of their family? 8. How does your character feel about religion? 9. What about political beliefs? 10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted? 11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated? 12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations? 13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates? 14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected? 15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED? 16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike? 17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When? 18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember? 19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now? 20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced? 21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate? 22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner? 23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex? 24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually? 25. What are their hobbies and interests? 26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance? 27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality? 28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice? 29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling? 30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive? 31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate? 32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively? 33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health?  34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous? 35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures? 36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering? 37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories? 38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic? 39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid? 40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one? 41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony? 42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain? 43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back? 44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them? 45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic? 46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body? 47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible? 48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish? 49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent? 50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?

[SMS] Aww you’re so sweet. Love you. -F xx

[SMS] Raymond. We talked about this. - F

[SMS] Right right…sorry. Just try not to be too long ok? - R

[SMS] Good lad. - F

[SMS] Piss off. - R

[Contacts: Mo Chuisle & Mo Croí]

I love you too. -X xx

[SMS] Are you busy? -X

[SMS] It’s just … I’d be done more quickly if there was someone up here with me, just, you know so I had someone to talk to or something … -X

[SMS] Are either of of you / both of you free? Have you finished getting ready? -X

[SMS] I mean, you’d better be bloody done, Ray, if you’re going to insist on rushing me. -X

[SMS] I guess I could help you. - R

[SMS] I’ll come up too. - F

A small knock on the door comes from Frazer and both men walk into the bathroom. Raymond’s arms folded with his long black coat draped over his shoulders, watching Xan intently.

Frazer smiles warmly as he catches Xan’s eye. “C-C-C-Come here.” He beckons her in for a hug. Both are concerned for Xan and want to help as much as they can.

Raymond places the coat on his shoulders around Frazer’s instead and pats him. “I’ll check the water and make sure it’s just right.”

Xan, who had left the hospital in such a hurry that evening that she still had blood on her face and her neck, could feel her skin start to prickle and itch as it dried.

She needed to shower.

What was more, she wanted to shower; she wanted to wash off all of the grime, and all of the gore; she wanted to brush out her hair, and have it smell like jasmine rather than disinfectant.

But every time she approached the frosted-glass door and thought about stepping through it, she froze. What if the water was too cold? What if it was too hot? What if it got in her eyes or up her nose? What if-

These anxious thoughts were interrupted by a knock upon the door. Frazer. Raymond. They entered, one just behind the other, and she could breathe again.

Frazer held out his arms and she stepped gratefully into them. Her own arms wrapped themselves around his middle and squeezed him tight. “Thank you,” she whispered, her throat tight. “And, Ray. Ray-“ He had tucked his coat so tenderly around Frazer’s shoulders, only lifting his hand when it had drifted away from soft wool and solid flesh into midair, and gone to check the water for her. Bless the old bastard. He cared for them both too, in his own special Ray kind of way.

“-Ray, th-th-thank you. I’ll get a move on for you now, I promise. I just- I think I just needed a bit of a hand getting started, that’s all. I-I’m s-s-sssorry for causing such a hold up, but I’ll be done in n-n-n-no time, I really will, and then- then we can go out, yes? Then we c-c-c-can have our nice evening all together, n-n-no more- no more i-i-in- interruptions.”

Finally, a small smile crept out, though she hid this in the front of Frazer’s shirt. “Just- Just- Just me and m-m-my boys, I h-h-h- I can’t think of- I honestly can’t think of anything b-b-better.”

Raymond grunted in reply to the thanks. Her safety was more important than her thanks to him right now. He checked the water and hissed harshly as he whipped his hand away. It was scorching. He quickly turned off the water and put on the cold, letting the water run on his sore finger to cool it. Then he rotated the hot tap slowly to mix it in and fiddled with it until it was just right for Xan.

Frazer kissed her forehead. He didn’t care that she was bloody and dirty, he loved her and he wanted to show her she was safe. He rubbed her back ever so gently. He didnt talk for the moment, he just held her, comforted her. “My boys” huh, he smiled at that. First time he ever heard that from her delicate voice. He liked it. “D-D-Do y-y-you nnn-nneed one-one-one of us t-t-t-to go go- into the shhh-shhh-showwerr with y-y-you?” He asked finally

“No,” Xan said, shaking her head. “No, no, no. I- I should- I should be fine on my own. I- As long as you stay right here, I- I- I should be just- just fine.” Another smile, this one bigger and braver than the last. “As long as I know that you’re waiting for me, I shall know that I am safe.”

She released him with one final squeeze, and reached up to put her hands on his shoulders instead, steadying herself so that she could stretch up press a soft kiss to his lips. “Frazer. My Frazer,” she murmured. “How dear you are. And how dearly I do love you, dear. How very, very dearly, indeed.”

[SMS] Aww you’re so sweet. Love you. -F xx

[SMS] Raymond. We talked about this. - F

[SMS] Right right…sorry. Just try not to be too long ok? - R

[SMS] Good lad. - F

[SMS] Piss off. - R

[Contacts: Mo Chuisle & Mo Croí]

I love you too. -X xx

[SMS] Are you busy? -X

[SMS] It’s just … I’d be done more quickly if there was someone up here with me, just, you know so I had someone to talk to or something … -X

[SMS] Are either of of you / both of you free? Have you finished getting ready? -X

[SMS] I mean, you’d better be bloody done, Ray, if you’re going to insist on rushing me. -X

[SMS] I guess I could help you. - R

[SMS] I’ll come up too. - F

A small knock on the door comes from Frazer and both men walk into the bathroom. Raymond’s arms folded with his long black coat draped over his shoulders, watching Xan intently.

Frazer smiles warmly as he catches Xan’s eye. “C-C-C-Come here.” He beckons her in for a hug. Both are concerned for Xan and want to help as much as they can.

Raymond places the coat on his shoulders around Frazer’s instead and pats him. “I’ll check the water and make sure it’s just right.”

Xan, who had left the hospital in such a hurry that evening that she still had blood on her face and her neck, could feel her skin start to prickle and itch as it dried.

She needed to shower.

What was more, she wanted to shower; she wanted to wash off all of the grime, and all of the gore; she wanted to brush out her hair, and have it smell like jasmine rather than disinfectant.

But every time she approached the frosted-glass door and thought about stepping through it, she froze. What if the water was too cold? What if it was too hot? What if it got in her eyes or up her nose? What if-

These anxious thoughts were interrupted by a knock upon the door. Frazer. Raymond. They entered, one just behind the other, and she could breathe again.

Frazer held out his arms and she stepped gratefully into them. Her own arms wrapped themselves around his middle and squeezed him tight. “Thank you,” she whispered, her throat tight. “And, Ray. Ray-“ He had tucked his coat so tenderly around Frazer’s shoulders, only lifting his hand when it had drifted away from soft wool and solid flesh into midair, and gone to check the water for her. Bless the old bastard. He cared for them both too, in his own special Ray kind of way.

“-Ray, th-th-thank you. I’ll get a move on for you now, I promise. I just- I think I just needed a bit of a hand getting started, that’s all. I-I’m s-s-sssorry for causing such a hold up, but I’ll be done in n-n-n-no time, I really will, and then- then we can go out, yes? Then we c-c-c-can have our nice evening all together, n-n-no more- no more i-i-in- interruptions.”

Finally, a small smile crept out, though she hid this in the front of Frazer’s shirt. “Just- Just- Just me and m-m-my boys, I h-h-h- I can’t think of- I honestly can’t think of anything b-b-better.”

[SMS] Aww you’re so sweet. Love you. -F xx

[SMS] Raymond. We talked about this. - F

[SMS] Right right…sorry. Just try not to be too long ok? - R

[SMS] Good lad. - F

[SMS] Piss off. - R

[Contacts: Mo Chuisle & Mo Croí]

I love you too. -X xx

[SMS] Are you busy? -X

[SMS] It’s just ... I’d be done more quickly if there was someone up here with me, just, you know so I had someone to talk to or something ... -X

[SMS] Are either of of you / both of you free? Have you finished getting ready? -X

[SMS] I mean, you’d better be bloody done, Ray, if you’re going to insist on rushing me. -X

[SMS]

Hm. Well don’t be long. - R

[SMS]

Take your time gorgeous. - F x

[SMS]

Hmph. - R

[SMS]

You’re gorgeous too Gaymond. - F

[SMS]

Don’t call me that, Hemlock. - R

[Contacts: Mo Chuisle & Mo Croí]

I’ll be half an hour at the most, Ray. Pour yourself (and me) a drink, and do try to relax. -X

[SMS] And oi, you two, no starting without me, got it? -X

[SMS] I can smell the testosterone from here. -X

[SMS] Ugh fine. - R

[SMS] I was only flirting. - F xx

[SMS] Yeah, terribly. - R

[SMS] Why isn’t the shower on yet? I cant hear it. GO SHOWER XAN. - R

[Contacts: Mo Chuisle & Mo Croí]

Fraze, don’t listen to him, baby. He’s just jealous. -X

[SMS] You can flirt with me any time. I happen to think you’re rather good at it. -X

[SMS] AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING SHOWER, RAY, BUT I’LL DO IT IN MY OWN GODDAMN TIME. -X

[SMS] You know it always takes me a little while to convince myself to get in ...-X

[SMS]

Hm. Well don’t be long. - R

[SMS]

Take your time gorgeous. - F x

[SMS]

Hmph. - R

[SMS]

You’re gorgeous too Gaymond. - F

[SMS]

Don’t call me that, Hemlock. - R

[Contacts: Mo Chuisle & Mo Croí]

I’ll be half an hour at the most, Ray. Pour yourself (and me) a drink, and do try to relax. -X

[SMS] And oi, you two, no starting without me, got it? -X

[SMS] I can smell the testosterone from here. -X

Xan, who was currently sitting opposite Lord Charles DeQuetteville in the garden room of his manor house, picked up her phone and assumed an air of indulgent incredulity as she answered her husband’s questions. “At the DeQuettevilles?” she asked innocently.  “Why, no, dear. I’m down in London, visiting Papa. Didn’t I say?” Here, she shared a conspiratorial smile with the gentleman across from her. 

“I do apologise. I meant to mention it to you before I left, as I expect to be here for several days. And, just in case Randall decides to worry you with any further unfounded rumours, I want you to know that I have no intentions of visiting the DeQuetteville’s whatsoever. They have your other brother staying with them now, Harry, and I have no desire to lay my eyes upon Theodore ever again.” 

Harry’s hands stopped moving and he frowned, a funny feeling knotting up in his stomach.

“O-oh. Okay,” he said, clearing his throat slightly afterwards. “I must have forgot you mentioning it. Sorry. Ring me when you’re coming home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Xan said, swallowing thickly around the lump that was beginning to form in the back of her throat. “I will, I promise. And Harry, before you go-” 

She paused, feeling a curious mix of contrasting emotions clash somewhere deep inside of her: affection, homesickness, grief, and guilt. “-Before you go, darling, I just want you to know that I love you. Okay? I love you so very much and I will be home as soon as I can. Take care of yourself in the meantime, though, and look after Jamie too. Give him and the twins kisses from me, and I’ll call you again tonight.” For now, however, she had to go - for the sooner she got started, the sooner the whole of this unpleasant business would be behind her, once and for all. 

Murmuring more ‘I love you’s’, in English and in Welsh, she hung up the phone and turned back to her host. “I am not an expert on mental health, you know. Nor am I a neurologist,” she said curtly. “There are other doctors you could have called, aside from me. Other doctors who would not need to lie to their husbands, so can we please get this over with? I meant one thing thatI told Harry, at least; I really do not relish the thought of seeing Theodore Carlisle again.” 

“Yes, I love you too, darling,” Harry said, also agreeing to say goodnight to the children before she had rung off.

Charles, looking slightly tired and a little strung out, sighed heavily at the woman’s words. “I know that, Alexandra. It’s just… the family doesn’t want Theo being…under the weather to become public knowledge. And if we took him to a different doctor, well, gossip happens no matter what.”

Theo being ‘under the weather’ was a drastic understatement on what was actually afflicting the man. Last week he’d forgotten how to tie his shoes and button his shirt.

Alexandra sighed too and pushed her hair back from her face, pulling it instead into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and securing it with the snap of a hairband that she wore perpetually around her wrist.

“Well, that’s true enough,” she muttered, being forced to concede to his point about people gossiping. “People will talk at even the slightest sniff of a scandal. Trust me, I learned that the way. Today’s patient made absolutely sure of it.” With a self-conscious smile, she got to her feet and brushed herself down, retucking her shirt, straightening her lapels, and fiddling with the cuffs of her blazer, her hands shaking all the while.

“But never mind. Today is clearly not about me, so …” She sucked in a deep breath and shoved her hands into her pockets. Seconds later, the outlines of two clenched fists became visible through the thin material. “… Show me to him and I will see what I can do to help you. I cannot promise you results, Charles, but I can promise you that I will try. For Harry’s sake, I will try to help him.”

Charles hurried to his feet and gave her a strained but genuine smile. “Thank you, Xandra it really means a lot.” He ushered her through to the hall and then up the stairs to the room and his brother-in-law shared with his sister.

Theo was looking rather unthreatening sat at his desk fiddling with a fountain pen that he found rather interesting. Little flashes of the man that he had once been occasionally showed themselves however.

Charles pushed the door open and knocked slightly. “Uh, Theodore,” he started. “You’ve got a guest.”

“A guest?” Theo asked, sounding surprised. It was very rare for him to get guests these days. “Who-“

He put down his pen and looked up, his brow furrowed in confusion as he took Xandra in and tried to remember where he knew her from. “I’m sorry, it’s very kind of you to come, but ... would you mind telling me who you are again? My memory, it isn’t what it used to be, I am ashamed to say.” He gave a rueful grin and raked his fingers through his hair, which was still thick and dark (whilst Harry’s was almost all grey these days), looking more boyish than Xan had ever seen him look before.

“I-“ she began haltingly. “I- I’m-“ She looked at the ceiling, fingertips resting on the stethoscope slung around her neck, reminding her of why she was there. “-My name is Alexandra, Theo. And I am Harry’s wife. Do you remember? Your brother, Harry, is my husband. May I come in and just sit with you a while? It’s been a long time since we last spoke, and I wanted- I- I wanted-“

Tears welled up in her eyes. She felt a hand crushing her windpipe, constricting her voice as she forced herself to finish, “-I wanted to catch up with how you, to see how you’re doing. Do you think- Do you think that would be- be o-okay?”

-

It was early evening at the Carlisle estate, and the light was just beginning to fade. With the twins put down for the night and Miriam dozing contentedly by the fire in the living room of their cosy little cottage, Jamie put down his book and decided to take a walk, to stretch his legs.

Winter was slowly wrapping itself about Wales, the first fallings of snow settling like a white eiderdown over the hills and the villages nestled in their nooks, and his knee was stiff. It had kept him indoors for days now and he was restless to be out. Swallowing two of his tablets for the pain, and snatching up his cane, he made his slow and painful way to the front door, donned his coat and his hat, and started off for the big house.

“Is my Da in?” Peter, who had opened the front door, answered in the affirmative, and Jamie smiled. Now that he was a father himself, he had resolved to make more of an effort with his own old man. “Wonderful. Would you run and fetch him then? I wondered if he might like to take a stroll with me before supper.”