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Henry Whittaker

"Why wait for change to happen? It's going to happen sooner or later. Might as well do it now."

0 · 342 views · located in Tresslington, Yorkshire Dales

a character in “The Village: 1914 to 1920”, as played by Rage&Pride

Description

Henry Whittaker


Image


Everything is changing. People are taking their comedians seriously and the politicians as a joke. I'm going to change that.





Gender: Male

Age: 25 Years of age

Nicknames: Politic Guy (by some of the older people of the village), Henry (by mostly everyone else), Mr. Whittaker (by the younger people of the village)

Occupation: News Paper Reporter, Small-Time Lawyer






Height: 6' 0"

Build: Lean and Muscular

Hair Colour: Dirty-Blonde

Eye Colour: Blue-Green

Scars?: Just some from childhood

Brief written description: Standing at six feet exactly, we have Henry Whittaker. He's the type of guy that at a boxing match would rather sit at the mic and go on and on about who's gonna' get whom and how while making jokes the whole time. No, he's not a fighter unless it comes to his hats. He has only one hat, to say, which is a black felt fedora, then he customizes it with a ribbon that matches his suite. But the thing that's meant to stand out is his tie.

Clothing preference: Suites and Ties, Formal






Skills: Henry is skilled in politics as he knows and awfully lot about it all. He's also good at building and fixing things up. He's also skilled with money and knows how to spend it wisely.

Quirks: Hat's. He's always wearing a hat that matches with his suite. He also tends to be very serious most of the time.

Likes: Politics, Hat's, Suites, Ties, The newspaper, Soda-Bread, Animals, Working, Change

Dislikes: His mothers views, How his mother runs the house, The War, His brothers behavior

Fears: Large bodies of water (due to an incident as a child), His brother getting shot one of these days, His sister being taken advantage of,

Written description: Henry Whittaker isn't called "Politic Guy" for nothing. He's called Politic Guy for his love of politics. It's like how some people have a borne sense to draw or how men have the sole sense to collect tools. Henry Whittaker was borne with politics in his blood. What's the first thing he'll talk about after someone says hello? Politics. "Hey there, Henry! How's it going?" "Great! Hey, did hear about the war?" That's all it is. War or the ministry. Besides all this, Henry is very protective of his family. A borne family man is what he is. A borne family man who loves politics. And is also very serious. He thinks that since he's the oldest in the house he has to take all the seriousness for the family, since his brother is no help and his sister needs and eye on her.






Relationship Status: Single

Family: The Whittaker's (Lady Elizabeth Whittaker, Mother; Joseph Whittaker, Younger Brother; Grace Whittaker, Younger Sister)

History: Henry was born in the village to he lovely mother and father. Oh, how Henry enjoyed spending time with his father. Henry was raised by the man, until his fathers death. That was a sad time, for Henry especially. But he stayed strong. He didn't cry. He stood his ground and did his best to stay strong for his family. He helped the maid with his new brother and sister, and he took it upon himself to protect the two, especially his sister, her being a girl and all. It's unclear to even Henry on how exactly he got into politics. He guesses it was probably around the time he became a paper-boy for the new Newspaper. When he went on brake, he'd read the newspaper as he ate his ham sandwich. He remembers one day he went straight to the politics and war part of the paper, and he's been doing just that ever since. He'd even talk about politics as a kid. Not as strongly as now, but still enough. He was also very protective of his sister as a kid. Whenever someone hurt her, they had to run as fast as they could before Henry Whittaker got there, but Henry always got there before they could high-tail it out of there.




Secret Word: Village Life

So begins...

Henry Whittaker's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Grace Anne Whittaker Character Portrait: Sara Clarke Character Portrait: Henry Whittaker Character Portrait: Morgan Alistair
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Henry Whittaker

As many of the towns people have started to enjoy the cerebration of the May Day festivities, Henry Whittaker was busy at work at the small little newspaper company. This is usually how it goes every May Day. Henry will work late in order to be ready for the next day and end up being even the slightest bit late anyways. Not only does he have to put out all the newspapers, but he also have to go around and do mini-reports on the festivities.

Grabbing a few stacks of newly-printed newspapers, Henry walked out of the shop, putting the stacks in the pouch his paper-bag that he connected to the front of his bicycle. Sure, usually they'd have a young boy standing out doing the 'Extra! Extra! Read all about it!', but Henry's always been that kid, the other kids of the community working hard on the farms or at school, or merely not doing it on behalf of their fathers. Henry doesn't mind though. It gives him a chance to get out.

Riding his rusted bike down the old dirty roads, being careful not to hit anyone walking by, he nodded and waved to all he passed. He wasn't in his usually wear. He was wearing a white button up shit tucked into his trousers. He wore not tie, but a very loosely done bow-tie. The biggest thing that was missing from his wear was his hat, revealing his dirty blonde hair combed back. He was obviously in his working garb.

As he road his bike, he stopped and gave a paper to a few men who paid a nickle. As he road, he saw Vera Ruene sitting at a bench, he flashed her a smile and almost crashed into a guy on the road, but quickly steered away, then he saw his sister over by Sara Clarke, who was obviously working a stand. So, Henry thought that might as well be a good place to have the papers, considering it's Sara. He steered his bike over, coming to a stop over to the side and propping it against the wall. He took out a small stack of newspapers and sat them over on the table. "Hello Sara, Morgan, Grace." He said as he gave a quick nod to the each of them. "How's the day doing you all?" He asked, putting his hands in his pockets. "Oh, forgive me, would any of you like a paper?" He added, picking up a few papers to hand whoever wants one.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Grace Anne Whittaker Character Portrait: Sara Clarke Character Portrait: Henry Whittaker Character Portrait: Morgan Alistair
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Sara watched the scene between Morgan and Grace with intrigue, her blonde head tilted ever so slightly as she bit down into the apple, savouring the sweet taste. She caught Morgan’s wince immediately, it was common knowledge that the Village smith was more of an introvert, he didn’t have many friends, but then again not many people gave him a chance, however this wasn’t his usual awkwardness at meeting a new person, this was something different. "Half of my work is of the nature of volunteer work, and it may still kill me one day. You really should loosen up one day, Sar." Sara nodded along to his words, matching his lop sided grin with her own, she suddenly felt a little guilty at scolding his words. It was true, too many people around here were too quick to use Morgan’s services, but very few actually paid him for his time and that was just deplorable to the young woman.

“I am loose enough, thank you very much,” Sara grinned retorting to his words, “I like working this store anyway, it gives me a chance to see everyone.” she admitted with a quick shrug before taking another bite of the apple. With her attention still fixed upon Morgan, she continued to notice the subtleties of change within his demeanour the longer he stood within Graces presence, the way his eyes would flicker towards her friend and the way he would shift uncomfortably in his position, it was definitely intriguing.

"Hello Sara, Morgan, Grace...How's the day doing you all?" Lulled from her curiosity, Sara turned to face Grace’s brother, Henry with a warm and welcoming smile. “Hello Henry” she greeted cheerfully, “oh yes please, papa and I always enjoys reading your newspaper”. Reaching out she took one of the freshly printed broadsheets from his arms and ran her blue hues over the front page, taking a mental note of the articles she would read later on. Placing it down upon the table, Sara turned back to her friends, laughing as Grace enquired about her other brother Jasper, she agreed with the latter, he was probably off chasing some poor girl around.

“Would any of you like some cake?” Sara asked, looking between the trio gathered before her, “It’s Victoria Sponge and I made it myself.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Grace Anne Whittaker Character Portrait: Sara Clarke Character Portrait: Henry Whittaker Character Portrait: Rose Francis Character Portrait: Morgan Alistair
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Rose walked down the streets, stopping here and there at booths and making friendly conversation with people. Some only gave her a look and turned on their heels. Some people would never get over themselves and the fact that Rose had every right to be running her late husbands house. He had left everything to her thus giving her the right. Thankfully since her brother moved in the talk had slowed some, but there were still those few who would never get over it. This made Rose sigh as she walked away from some women she tried to make conversation with, but had turned and ignored her.

She stopped at one booth and bought herself some chocolates. She thank the woman kindly as she paid for it and walked away, popping a chocolate in her mouth. Soon she came across some dancers. She stood there watching for awhile, a small smile on her face as she enjoyed the scene. She loved watching people dance, it was so graceful. She wished she could have that grace, but she knew she was too clumsy. She'd end up tripping and falling on someone, probably injuring them in the process.

As the dancers finished up she clapped and slowly started walking again. She saw a small group gathering around a refreshments stand being run by Sara, a girl she enjoyed talking too. She was about to make her way over that direction when she heard two women whispering stuff about her. She whirled around to look at both of them. "Why worry about the rumors revolving around me when the rumors about you having an affair are going around? Rumors, might I add, are apparently true because you went to see him this morning. I can tell because your wedding ring is missing." She spat at the woman who was the one whispering quite loudly so that everyone around would hear. The look of shock and horror was plastered all over the woman's face. Rose spun around angrily from the women and stormed off towards the refreshment stand.

As she walked up she heard Henry ask the group if they'd like a paper. "Oh may I please have one of those Mr.Whittaker?" She asked politely with a friendly smile. She then looked at the rest of the group with the same smile. "Good morning everyone." She said sweetly, her eyes landing on Morgan before she quickly looked to the ground. She didn't have a problem with him, but she remembered her late husband did. He always treated him poorly and spoke badly of him which made Rose wonder what had happened. Her husband was always kind to everyone, but Morgan was practically the worst person ever to him. She wondered if her husband had once tried to get him to come home with him like he did so many other men, but he refused him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Grace Anne Whittaker Character Portrait: Sara Clarke Character Portrait: Henry Whittaker Character Portrait: George Clarke
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George Clarke was obviously not in the midst of the festivities like his daughter. This came as no surprise to any of the villagers, in fact, for they all knew the doctor took his work more seriously than, well, everything except his daughter. He would probably starve to death or catch a cold before he refused a patient. Even George admitted there was truth in the statement. He wasn't one to deny his services, even when the patient was unable to pay him back.

On May Day, he was at the home of a farmer, his wife, and his young children. They were a sweet couple, Mr. and Mrs. Wood, and everyone knew them. But, come harvest, they always managed to just make it. Most villagers truly believed each coming harvest would be their last. How long could a family like that survive. According to the eldest boy, who had come racing to George's office, the patriarch of the family had stepped in a badger's hole that morning, twisted his left ankle, and was unable to walk. With medical bag in hand, Dr. Clarke followed the boy closely with a brisk pace.

At the home now, he wrapped the foot tightly, which caused Mr. Wood to gasp in pain. George's gaze averted from the foot temporarily to look up at the usually loud, boisterous young man. "Here," he held out his free hand, which caused the injured man to look back in confusion. "Squeeze it when the pain becomes unbearable." Mr. Wood nodded at the explanation and grabbed George's hand, already crushing it into oblivion before the doctor had begun to wrap the foot again. Finally, he wrenched his hand free and fastened the fabric so it would stay in place. Hand throbbing horribly, he stood and brushed his trousers off.

"You did quite a number on it, I tell you," he joked, clapping the man on the shoulder softly as he walked toward his bag. "I don't believe I've seen a sprain that bad since...well, I can't recall seeing a sprain that bad. I'd suggest filling those badger holes- if your plow horse steps in one, I can assure you it won't be pretty."

"Aye, Doc," Mr. Wood explained, shifting his position slightly so he could face George, to which the doctor quickly raced back and shifted the man into the position he was before.

"No moving, sir," he scolded, sitting down on a couch across from him. "Rest it, keep ice to it, compress it, and elevate it, you hear?" He counted off on his fingers, giving the list to him of what to do. "And if you do any work before it heals up, your wife better tell me." The last part he said a bit louder so that Mrs. Wood heard from the kitchen. She gave a quick, "yes, Doctor", in response. Satisfied, George stood and finished packing his bags.

"How much do I owe ya, Dr. Clarke?" the incapacitated man asked, trying to shift again. He stopped when George looked back, though.

"Nothing," George said simply, lifting the bag as he moved toward the door. "You take care of yourself, that's all." He opened the door, but stopped when he heard Mrs. Wood exclaiming and hurrying toward him.

"Doc, ya can't just leave without payment," she said, trying to scrape together money in the palm of her hand. "W-we could get ya the money in a week's time, I swear!" He shook his head and stepped back on to the pathway.

"Good day, Mrs. Wood," he said, avoiding her words. As he walked briskly down the path, she hurried along, offering him a share of their profit that harvest, or a pie, or even just a few vegetables. Again, he called out "good day, Mrs. Wood!" and continued on his way toward the market where, perhaps, he'd be able to run by him daughter. She'd grow angry if he didn't attend today. He was certain of it. Most of the villagers had probably assumed he wouldn't show his face and, instead, would stay at his office all day.

Entering the town square, a few passerby offered a smile to him. George continued to wander sort of aimlessly between stalls in the crowded town until, by some miracle, he managed to find himself by Sara's stand. “Would any of you like some cake? It’s Victoria Sponge and I made it myself.” The voice was easily recognized by George. He'd raised his daughter years by himself and had listened to that voice grow and mature, from saying her first word to reciting passages out of books.

"Do you have a piece to spare for an old man?" he teased. George certainly was not old by many of the villagers standards. At forty years old, he was actually quite young. Yet, among Sara's group of friends, he was considerably older. Turning his attention to the two Whittaker siblings, he smiled and gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. "Mr. Whittaker, Miss Whittaker, how are you two today?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Grace Anne Whittaker Character Portrait: Sara Clarke Character Portrait: William Gibson Character Portrait: Henry Whittaker Character Portrait: George Clarke
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#, as written by Akiyo
With his chores finally done Nathaniel washed in the house and put on his favorite outfit that made him look more like a gentleman than a farmer. Henry had done the same as ordered by Audrey who had prepared her brothers clothes as per instructions by their mother. When Will and Margaret returned home their children were ready. The whole family, not in their nicest, but certainly dress casual, left together for the festivities at the town square.

"Any problems with the crop?"

"No sir." Nathaniel answered to his father who walked with barely a limp.

Margaret, arm tangled with William's, listened quietly to William and Nathaniel discuss the day's work. Henry and Audrey both did the same and trailed a little further behind Nathaniel.

"Any orders I need to make for feed?"

"The chickens will last another two weeks, but the cows are done with the hay. Jake isn't eating much, he might be sick."

"No, he's just tired. I pushed him hard yesterday on the back acres."

"What if he doesn't eat tomorrow?"

"He'll eat." William said as any worry for his only horse had set at the back of his mind. Jake had shown similar behavior in the past.

The Gibson family soon joined the crowd and dispersed, save Henry who had to stay with Audrey after he had been caught tryin to steal food with some friends of his. Nathaniel moved through the crowd, looking for friends of his. William and Margaret made their way through the market, sampling and purchasing what caught their interest. All the time maintaining their spending limit for the festival. When they saw Doctor Clarke they waited for him to finish talking at a distance that wouldn't impose on his conversation.

When he was finished they would approach and say, "how are you doctor Clarke? We just arrived moments ago."