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Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M.

"Everything is all black and white to me."

0 · 614 views · located in Titanic Ship

a character in “April 1912”, as played by uniquest

Description

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XXX I WAS WITHIN AND WITHOUT, SIMULTANEOUSLY ENCHANTED AND REPELLED BY THE INEXHAUSTIBLE VARIETY OF LIFE XXX
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FULL NAME
"The name is Lawrence. Lawrence Murray Crawford; however, I assume you have heard of me from other undesirables. Wherever I have gone I seem to leave this longing effect on people. As any wealthy person shall."
MR. LAWRENCE MURRAY CRAWFORD.


ALIAS
"I expect for you to call me by my 'mister' followed by my sur name; nothing less unless otherwise given my approval to call me by my first name. If you follow by my rules, everyone is happy."
MISTER CRAWFORD, SIR, LAWRENCE.


BIRTH DATE
"April 5th, 1887 was the best thing that has happened to this world. You cannot deny the fact."
5 APRIL 1888 ; 24 Y.O


ORIGIN
"quote."
ENGLISH 3/4, NORTHERN AMERICAN 2/5.


ECONOMIC CLASS
"And, here I am; remaining forever between the worthy and the undesirables. I continue to hope for a time will I can rise up in power because my life has got to be like this, it's got to keep going up."
SECOND CLASS.


OCCUPATION
"I've graduated as an Oxford man, and it is an honor to say that I am ."
BUSINESSMAN.


MARTIAL STATUS
"I was once engaged to a women by the name of Madame Jacqueline Schoen. We go way back Jacqueline and I; however, the whore decided that I was far too much for her, and she broke the marriage off. Although, it is quite her loss I presume. Any lady would just love to have their nails dug deep within my bronze skin."
UUNMARRIED. FORMER FIANCE OF MADAME JACQUELINE SCHOEN.

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APPEARANCE
To put it simply, Lawrence Murray Crawford is a beautiful young man, and he is fully aware of it. Whether it's the way his brown locks are smoothed back into its respective groom, the way his jaw is often set firm, his lips full and totally kissable, his chiseled body, or the way his striking blue eyes appear twinkling in its socket, like the ocean waves rippling against the current; women can never seem to get enough of this six-foot one god-like creature. The way he caries himself as if he was the only one who mattered in a world full of ordinary people. His suits consist of smooth silk, even wool with its cuffs perfectly tailored; shoes always scrubbed to a shine.

Lawrence Murray Crawford may just be the finest man alive. For a man to represent the second class, his looks sure have gotten him on top with even some of the most elite first class-men, women flock to be considered as his bride, and men envy him for his sense of sophistication and gratitude that he withheld. Nevertheless, the saying goes- "looks can often be deceiving," and that is true for Lawrence. He may be very attractive, but stare within his sapphire-like eyes, prepare to be hypnotized by his charm.

BODY SHAPE
MESOMORPHIC ; ATHLETIC BUILD

MEASUREMENTS
CHEST: 38" / 96 CM ; WAIST: 30" / 76 CM ; BICEPS: 15.6 IN (39.6 CM).

WEIGHT
6 FT 1 IN (185 CM).

HEIGHT
6 FT 1 IN (185 CM).

SHOE / FEET
US 11.5 ; EU 45.5 ; UK 11.

SUIT SIZE
INSEAM, US/UK 33 ; SUIT, US 40, EU 50.
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XXX ALL THE BRIGHT PRECIOUS THINGS FADE SO FAST, AND THEY DON'T COME BACK XXX

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LIKES
intelligent women.
Lawrence has a thing for women who are, to say the least, independent and quick-witted. Looks do not define a person, and their ability to be
Jazz

DISLIKES
...

TALENTS
LURING ;
SOPHISTICATED ;

WEAKNESSES
SMOKING ;
NARCISSISTIC ;
UNFORGIVING ;
CORRUPTED ;

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PERSONALITY
+Amorous,+Perceptive,+Independent,+Assertive, +Debonair, +Earnest,
+Disciplined, +Focused, +Intelligent, Firm, +Suave
-Greedy, -Possessive, -Cruel, -Callous, -Blunt, -Defensive, -Venal.
-Unforgiving, -Haughty, Miserable

Lawrence Crawford is a man better left avoided. He's just a bomb waiting for a chance to destroy those near, and he does it with no hesitation. Having to learn the hard way - 'it's heat or be eaten' - Lawrence chooses to be self-sufficient; he's able to stand on his own to feet without needing the help of another. Trust, is a word foreign to him. The first time his father ever laid hands on him, trust has never been easily understood. Lawrence cares for no one other than himself, and why shouldn't he? He's spent his whole life trying to flee from the tortuous life that the third class had to offer, his family. He did it all by himself. No one was ever there to care for him when he needed it the most, no one was ever there to give him clothing and blankets for the many nights he spent cold and alone under the HWY 99 bridge.

Now, that he has managed to climb his way ..TBA

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[url=songurl]X[/url][url=songurl]X[/url][url=songurl]X[/url] MY LIFE HAS GOT TO BE LIKE THIS, IT'S GOT TO KEEP GOING UP [url=songurl]X[/url][url=songurl]X[/url][url=songurl]X[/url]

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HISTORY
"Needless to say, I lived a treacherous life. Father was abusive, and my mother was no where to be found. However, I was able to pry myself away from hell that third class had to offer."

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PORTRAYED BY :
uniquest

TIME ZONE :
Pacific Times [PT].

HOW OFTEN DO I POST? :
Often enough.

So begins...

Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M.'s Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie R. Gatz Character Portrait: Juliette Le Sauvage Character Portrait: Van Der Woodsen, Madame Yvette Character Portrait: Miss Charlotte Whittaker Character Portrait: Evan Tuck Character Portrait: Caspian Mar Grey Character Portrait: Daisy McGregor Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Schoen, Madame Jaqueline Character Portrait: Domonic Drew Castell Character Portrait: Chun-Hwa Mun Character Portrait: Henry R. Nelson Character Portrait: Amelia V. Nelson Character Portrait: Blanche Herveaux Character Portrait: Jewett, Paul Mr. Character Portrait: Ophelia Böhm Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Timothy P. Silver Character Portrait: Syllia Kelevra Character Portrait: Arthur McGhee Character Portrait: Abia Crane Character Portrait: William Crane Character Portrait: Stas Kelevra Character Portrait: Coraline Jennine Blackwood Character Portrait: Noah Cobain Character Portrait: Xavior G. Kennedy
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Date: Wednesday, 10 April 1912. xxxLocation: Southampton, England. xxx
Arrival Time: 9:30 a.m xxx Time of Departure: 11:30 a.m. xxxWeather: Brisk winds northwest at 15-20 mph; 50°C




"Aye, batte'n down the hatches will ya'?"

"Are my eyes deceiv'n me, or am I seein' this ship's ready to land?"

"Eeeeh, boy!"

"I'm needin' help to pull this lever."

"Ready to land, Captain!"


A slow, crooked smile had spread across Captain Smith's face resembling that of much content. The great ocean liner had took approximately three years to construct, engineered to be the largest and most luxurious steam ship in the world. Its very first voyage would truly be something worth remembering; articles about the ship were thus written, claiming it to be a marvel of modern engineering. Both men, women, and children alike came fleeing from their homeland to get a glimpse of the monstrous beauty that dared hinge itself onto the British port as if it was the only thing that withheld dominance. The passengers to board the luxury ocean liner were nonetheless grateful. Many had lifted their chins up in prestige because not only were they able to gain enough money to enter, but they were the first to do so. Street market sells boomed significantly, men were getting their beard groomed quickly as their wives pimped their children for the long journey; brushing off any specks from the petticoats of young girls, and straightening their son's woolen jacket.

And, it all happened in a speck of time. Everyone clustering, like ants. It wasn't later until the ship's plank board was lowered had everyone began pushing and shoving for a leading spot up the ramp.

"You want first-class passengers to board first, Captain?" One of the ship's crew member approached him. It was no surprise that even the most wealthiest aristocats were given better treatment. To Captain Smith the first-class were 'walking money', they would surely help spread the word, and perhaps bring in even more fortune. "Yes," Smith assured, "let the first-class board first."

And, off the worker went to announce the news to the people who waited impatiently. "Listen up," he had to shout over the uproar, "so, far we have at least two thousand two hundred and twenty eight thousand of you. I want first-class passengers to board first, then second, and lastly third. I want this to be done in an orderly fashion. We will set off in approximately two hours."

At that the commotion grew much louder, people kissed their loved one's a farewell. It was a moment of ecstasy, all for the ship that deemed as virtually unsinkable, the Titanic was truly a phenomenon.



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Mood: Observant xxx Outfit:herexxx Theme song: N.A. xxx





'Two hours, two hours, two hours ..'

Arthur McGhee felt the perspiration beginning to form at his temple, like thousands of tiny crystals scattered about his ivory skin. He wiped at it with the back of his hand as he chewed at his lower lip, it was a habit he had possessed since it was his conceitedness that got him stuck in the game of Cheat at the British port pub.

He remembered his words, a mockery as he smirked at the dunderheed that had just sent another man walking with loss. 'Ah bet yer ass I can win you at a game of cards. Aw or nothin', lad.' But, nevertheless it was those very words that had got him a pound short out of his pocket. If only he'd kept his mouth shut.

"You give'n up yet?" Arthur looked up from his stack of cards to the burly man who sat before him, the way his crusted lips curled back in amusement every moment he saw the poor Scott's exasperation.

He kept his answer short. "No." He concentrated on his next play.

He put down an ace, and at that, the man guffawed something bitter and awful that made Arthur fight the urge to hurl.

"You aren't gonna win, mate." Arthur ignored him as he put down a two.

Then, a four; six, eight, and before you know it he's all out of cards. Checkmate.

Arthur looked up at the man's now gawked expression, and smirked. "Mibbe ah jus did."

The guy was infuriated now as he looked at the cards, to Arthur, to the cards, then back up at Arthur. "Bullshit," he spat out a wad of tobacco juice out of the side of his mouth.

The man was nothing but muscle and tattoo compared to Arthur. However, as he said that Arthur couldn't hold it in anymore. He laughed, and laughed until his sides were cramping; until the man grabbed at his white button down, and heaved him up from his chair. "I want a rematch". He demanded, spit freckling across Arthur's face.

"Not how it works." The man pushed Arthur against a wall; hard. Others began to move away immediately in the process at the same time the owner shouted for the two men to take their tussle outside, but he was only ignored. "Listen to me, mate. I will hurt-" he was distracted by Arthur's hand moving behind his ear, thus a silver dollar had appeared between his fingers as if by magic.

"Did you not hear me? Arthur's smile widened. "Yer outta luck, lassie." He threw the coin at the man's face, causing him to loose his grip on Arthur.

"Aye!" he called out as he saw the sly Scott scoop up a few coins from their table, including a third-class ticket to board the 'White Star Line', and ran free from the pub toward the grand ship.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie R. Gatz Character Portrait: Juliette Le Sauvage Character Portrait: Van Der Woodsen, Madame Yvette Character Portrait: Miss Charlotte Whittaker Character Portrait: Evan Tuck Character Portrait: Caspian Mar Grey Character Portrait: Daisy McGregor Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Schoen, Madame Jaqueline Character Portrait: Domonic Drew Castell Character Portrait: Chun-Hwa Mun Character Portrait: Henry R. Nelson Character Portrait: Amelia V. Nelson Character Portrait: Blanche Herveaux Character Portrait: Jewett, Paul Mr. Character Portrait: Ophelia Böhm Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Timothy P. Silver Character Portrait: Syllia Kelevra Character Portrait: Arthur McGhee Character Portrait: Abia Crane Character Portrait: William Crane Character Portrait: Stas Kelevra Character Portrait: Coraline Jennine Blackwood Character Portrait: Noah Cobain Character Portrait: Xavior G. Kennedy Character Portrait: Rosalie Essex
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Date: Thursday, April 11th 1912. xxx Time: 10:30 am. xxx Location: the coast of Celtic Sea
Headed to: Queenstown, Ireland xxx Arrival time: 3:30 pm. xxx Weather: partly cloudy with an abundance of stratocumulus clouds. moderate breeze at 50°C N/NW




Titanic's departure from Southhampton yesterday was quite the success! Afterwards, the massive vessel sailed to Cherbourg, France to board more passengers. Nonetheless, everything seemed to be running smoothly, not a mishap identified. Its passengers are enjoying the long voyage as well. Some even managed to make friends with those within their social heiarchy, but who knows? Maybe love will parish within this grand vessel, or rivals will be made. Sometimes fate just has to be waited upon before it is allowed to make its next move.

As first class passengers began to make their way towards the Parisian Café for an early morning coffee, most second and third class passengers aimed to put on their best fitting garments to join them, passing the bouncers who are scouting for any possible intruders. Nevertheless, people are making the most of it until their final destination to Pier 60 in New York on April 17, 1912.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Van Der Woodsen, Madame Yvette Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M.
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"I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life."
Mood: Confident ; Content xxx Outfit: Here xxx Theme Song: TBA xxx Location: Parisian Café




Lawrence Murray Crawford didn't need to sneak his way into the graces of first-class passengers. He was simply granted. His presence was nonetheless welcoming to them especially to the women who couldn't pry their eyes away from the man who carried himself with pure elegance and grandeur. He even caught a few gents peering his way with envy written on their faces. Amused, Lawrence tipped his fedora in greeting with a confident smile plastered upon his face.

The bastard he was. And he enjoyed it. Growing up, he never had the opulence infact he was once a child in third class just like the other undesirables. His father was nonetheless an abusive drunk towards his six children, including Lawrence. His mother was absent in the family. She saw her life as it was: colorless. And it was no surprise that she packed her stuff, and disappeared without notice leaving her children with a man as vile as the devil himself. As the oldest, it was Lawrence who had cared for his brothers and sisters while his father lay impaired on the sofa; it was Lawrence who had comfort them whenever his father was having raging fits most nights; and it was Lawrence who had to work many nights as a busboy because his father was too lazy to do so himself. To put it simply, Lawrence was the man of the household at a young age that is until his Father Crawford had first laid hands on him. Lawrence still remembers what he was told as if it was yesterday, "you no good piece of crap! You think you can walk through this house with your head held high, acting as if you run this place! Let me tell you this, boy, you are nothing. just like your whorish mother. And you will always be a crawford, a crawford just waiting for death to come."

With that, Lawrence left. He still regrets abandoning his siblings for the worst, but he had to do what was necessary. How else would he have gotten this successful? Although, that doesn't stop him from ever thinking about them, worrying if they were okay.

"Ah, well if it isn't Lawrence Murray Crawford," Lawrence was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard a voice call out to him. It was none other than Calvin Dubrovsky, the man who offered Lawrence a job as a business manager for Warner and Swasey. Lawrence was the least bit pleased to see him for Calvin was a man willing to flick a couple hundreds just for the hell of it. Such a fool he was nonetheless Lawrence put on his best smile. "Calvin Dubrovsky," he shook his hand, "it is always a pleasure to see a man of triumphant roaming throughout the halls of this colossal ship. How's the wife?"

Lawrence had noticed the beauty that seemed to radiate the room when he first walked in. Yvette Van Der Woodsen was the woman every man wanted underneath their bed linen, even Lawrence fantasized every moment he caught a glimpse of the picturesque blonde that sat alone at the table farthest from the crowd. The way she often took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape, the corners of her cheeks raising themselves as she smiles that jaw-dropping smile that Lawrence so loved, and her eyes, such beautiful hazel eyes, like two-little golden specks of ember.

However, she was Calvin's girl which meant she was off limits. Still as troublesome as Lawrence was, he would do what he wishes with any married women.

"Fiancé," Calvin corrected, "and, I believe we are doing all right. Anyway, I was on my way to the smoke room, mind joining?"

"No, thank you," Lawrence brushed away the invitation, "I think I'd like to stay here, and drink some tea. Maybe play someone at a game of poker."

Calvin snorted, and brought the cigar between his teeth, "You oughta know to stop joining in on those mindless games, Lawrence." He looked at Lawrence once more before patting him on the chest, "Very well, then."

Without another word, he turned on one heel and left the room until he whirled back around, "Oh, and Lawrence-" But, he was cut of as Lawrence reached into his pocket to retrieve a pack of matches, and tossed it towards Calvin in a swift movement. He managed to catch it without letting it slip through his fingertips, then smiled. "Thank you."

It wasn't until later Lawrence was left to charm a pair of attractive young women who continued to peek at him every chance they got.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Ophelia Böhm Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson
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#, as written by Saje




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"She belongs to that rarified
atmosphere of Park Avenue.
She is destined for expensive restaurants,
literary cocktail parties…
Can you imagine her tramping around
with a bum who never has more
than a week’s salary in the bank?
If she was only ordinary."

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"This is quite the ship they have here. Wonder how many time it'll sail before people become tired of it, or make something bigger and better."

Ophelia turned her gaze towards the sound of a man's voice just as the small pop in her neck indicated she had twisted too sudden. She squinted as the sun struck her eyes before she drifted along with the crowd as they began boarding second-class passengers. Nodding in agreement, a slight smile painted across her features as she hauled here suitcase along.

"Isn't it grand? I even read in the newspaper that it's around 782 feet in length.... or was that 882...." She drifted off in thought as she tried to recall exactly what was written in that miniature black ink underneath a picture of the ship itself on the daily newspaper. The fact failed to make it's trip back in her memory, and as they were quickly ushered along, she lost track of where she was as the crowd seemed to engulf her. Children held their mothers hands and wealthy businessman carried their briefcases all around her as she stepped on board and handed her ticket off. Much to her surprise, there was a quietness in it; No songs, No smells, no shouts. The boat was nothing like she expected it to be, yet everything she knew it would be. There was no sound of traffic or birds. The sounds of strangers voices around her shocked her.

And when she finally made her way into the halls lining old painting and antique designs, she realized she never asked for that mans name nor even got a good look at his face.

***


It was still dark when Ophelia woke up the next morning. She had successfully made it to her room without any problems, changed into her silk pajamas, whipped out some Hermann Hesse poem and soon fell asleep before she knew it -- Book in hand. She hadn't the chance to introduce herself to her fellow roommates, but could sure tell they were there by their heavy breathing as they slept.

Of course, she knew there'd be an exquisite breakfast cafe and of course she was going to get up early to look her best. Second and third class passengers usually weren't allowed beyond the doors, but they weren't going to check everyone, were they? Knowing they were mostly full of the first-class, she knew it wasn't going to be Kumbaya around the campfire either. She knew it was going to be lonely; Despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces they all wear. They were rusty and overwhelming. So why was she sneaking into first-class fun? Because that's what she was taught to do.

The breakfast was thought to be like a express caboose in Paris and Ophelia tried to pick out her best clothes; Mostly to sneak past the borders of security at the doors. At daybreak, she sauntered down the hall with a smug smirk plastered on her face before she bowed her head just as she past the doors entering the cafe area. The place was already booming with people, and she swore she saw someone give her an odd look. Maybe she should of worn a dress to fit in better.

She loved people as a stamp collector loves his collection. Not necessarily to socialize, but to observe. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for her. She observed everything from a cripple, a dying man, a whore. She often regarded her own life with objective curiosity all the time. She grinned as people walked past her, never receiving many smiles back. Ophelia didn't bother finding herself a place to sit -- because wherever she sat—on the deck of this ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok— she would be stewing in her own sour air. She didn't belong. Yet she sighed in appreciation as the smell of fresh food drifted past her nose. She roamed around as people seemed to be spilling in through the doors, stomachs growling with clean pearl-white teeth showing in smiles as they went in for hugs. Breaking free from the growing crowds and mingling, she walked over to a nearby crew attendant behind the counter, cleaning the drinking vessels until they were without a single fingerprint for the passengers.

"Excuse me," Ophelia spoke up with the sweetest tone her voice box would allow her to range to, "Could I get a martini with a twist of lemon?"

The attendant glanced up at her from his work with a furrowed brow. Ophelia was straightening her blouse, not even noticing that he was oddly staring right at her. She finally glanced up, a polite smile quickly spreading across her lips as she caught eyes with the man. He found himself stuttering.

"Miss, we're serving breakfast food at this time." He spoke carefully, as if afraid to anger her with a rather confused look still on his face.

"Can I get a martini with a piece of toast?" She grinned.

And there she was, sipping a martini whilst sitting on a stool. She loved the warmth and the bigness of the room. She could hear the jokes and stories being shared. The drink really had no taste on her tongue and instead just went straight down into her stomach like a sword swallowers’ own sword. Her eyes roamed the crowd before she suddenly spotted a figure in the distance. Ophelia felt her icy eyes widen as she quickly slid out of her chair. The idea of once being well-educated, brilliantly promising; Fading out into an barely nothing made her stop and think about the glamorous picture of a man who she'd been building up to be like, who she hopefully thought cared about her the moment he met her, and all out of a few prosy nothings. She grimaced as any good feeling plummeted whilst she observed the women he seemed to be trying to wrap around his finger. Granted, she couldn't see his face as he was turned away from her, but she could tell it was the same boy -- man -- she knew from long ago. She was soon making her way across the floor; Nearing him as she ran her fingers through her hair with a free hand. She felt like she was in the eye of a tornado, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo. Her mind glided off, like a skater, into a large empty space, and pirouetted there, absently. Before she knew it she had gotten too close for comfort and accidentally collided with him, her elbow brushing against his mid-back as she sent him jolting forwards whilst she stumbled over herself. Rather then acting like any other person and apologizing, she couldn't bring herself to react normally as her mouth hang ajar. She then cleared her throat as she spoke with amusement, ignoring the girls who he'd been talking to.

"Oh, look at this. Me tripping over everything and you, well, trifling about. Has anything changed?"



Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Juliette Le Sauvage Character Portrait: Miss Charlotte Whittaker Character Portrait: Evan Tuck Character Portrait: Caspian Mar Grey Character Portrait: Daisy McGregor Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Domonic Drew Castell Character Portrait: Ophelia Böhm Character Portrait: Syllia Kelevra Character Portrait: Stas Kelevra
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xxxxxxxxxxxxx
______________Juliette Le Sauvage______________

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    L O C A T I O N : BOAT DECK

    Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #ea98c6|| Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ dim gray
    xxxxxTʜᴇᴍᴇ ✧ Suite Bergamasque|| Oᴜᴛғɪᴛ ✧ X
_____The morning sun created a gleam of light upon the English Harbor. Most chose to wave goodbye to their loved ones or to the onlookers of such an esteemed and historic occasion. Since Juliette had no family present and had been on the ship since the day before considering she was technically staff, she took the scenic route to the other side of the ship and watched the sun rise over Southhampton. She left her hair down, as she always did when she was free to move about, and inhaled the salty air. The few times she visited Spain with her parents she was completely drawn to the sea. Unfortunately Paris, her home since birth, merely has a river for her viewing pleasure and she smiled now at her good fortune of spending time floating about it for a solid length of time.
Juliette was not certain as to how long she had spent simply looking out at the view before her, but she imagined it to be quite a while since people could be seen filling out the ship and taking advantage of good weather and open decks. She sighed wistfully looking at them, knowing her brief moment of piece was spent and this place would hold no more privacy for her. She gathered up her skirts and began to make the trek back to her small quarters in Third Class, knowing by now people will be crowding the cramped hallways, when she was run upon by a very aggro servant. This man she had already been introduced to and he paused to catch his breath as if he'd been running. She reigned in her accent as she spoke knowing it was simply better for everyone involved if she didn't have to repeat herself.
"Bonjour Marc. What has you looking so flustered that you'd run all this way to find."
Forgive me Miss Juliette. But it's the other musician, ya see, 'e's sea sick. Tosser can't even hold his stomach five minutes into the damn voyage. We need a replacement at the Breakfast Cafe.You're the only other employed Pianist here and the quartet only plays for lunch and dinner."
"Merde,"she looked down at herself and was thankful she wore something semi-work appropriate. Her white shite, black ascot, and black skirts would have to do. She pulled a hair pin from her sleeve and quickly did her hair into a neat bun, with only a few strands falling but never too much to look messy.
"Very well Marc, take me to the cafe. I will just have to improvise."
Marc pulled her at a swift pace and she nearly lost her footing trying to keep up. "Please hurry we're already late!
The soon arrived to a slowly thickening crowd entering the French-style cafe and she straightened her skirts and pressed her fingers to her blushed cheeks as they'd grown pink from the exercise. She strode in quickly and smiled as she heard Marc letting out a deep exhale before he ran to inform his supervisors of her arrival no doubt. She accidently brushed passed a tall, rather rugged looking blonde gentleman and quickly apologized before continuing on. Despite there being people already in attendance, she walked straight up to the piano as if it was planned and began to play one of the many pieces she has memorized in her many years, Suite Bergamasque by Debussy, a favorite of hers. It had a lively into and was a moving piece in all. She quickly lost herself to the melody as people filed in.





Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Evan Tuck Character Portrait: Daisy McGregor Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Ophelia Böhm Character Portrait: Syllia Kelevra Character Portrait: Abia Crane
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Daisy McGregor


Daisy gaps when she sees the gentleman and the person he grabbed start to play cards. She couldn't hear was they were saying, but it was obvious that's what they were doing. She was quickly brought out of her thoughts when Mrs. Hurst kept repeating her name.

"Daisy? Daily! Is your mind wandering again?" the older woman asked.

Embarrassed, Daisy turned around and replied, "Oh I am so sorry Eliza! What were you saying?"

"I was asking how your sister and her family were."

"Violet is fine. She and Edward are expecting another child soon. Vi is determined to give Eddie a son since she already has two girls. Her doctor thinks she is carrying twins because she's much bigger than the last few pregnancies."

This brought a huge smile to Daisy's face, but Mrs. Hurst could see the inner sadness of her friend. She knew that Daisy wanted to be a mother so badly. It was bad enough when she had the first miscarriage, it was worse when the second one was a still born. Daisy had once told her she thought there was something wrong with her especially with her twin sister being able to carry and give birth to healthy children. The matronly woman's heart went out to her, but she maintain her smile, wanting to keep the blonde in a good mood.

"Well she'll definitely have her hands full than. I am happy that Violet is taking a more hands on approach to motherhood, unlike some mothers I know."

This caused Daisy to giggle. She could not understand why some mothers did spend more time with their children. She understood the need of having nannies and governesses, but for some women to not want to be around their children was just mind boggling. Daisy herself thought of becoming a governess after Michael died, but she realized she'd have to give up her love of traveling, and she simply couldn't do that.

It was at that second, she heard a crash and turned to see a woman who was done as well as a man. The scene caused her to laugh hard, earning several gazes her way. Not wanting to embarrass her friend, she took several breaths to calm down, but couldn't quite stop the giggling. Mrs. Hurst saw the incident too and giggled as well.

"And here I thought these meals would get boring."

"I just hope they're okay. That looked nasty." commented Daisy after she managed to stop giggling.

"It certainly did."

"Well, I am done eating, so I'll go and get some fresh air. Would you like to join me?" Daisy asks as she stands up.

"Afraid not my dear, I am going to get some rest. I will see you later all right?" Mrs. Hurst said as she stood up and gave Daisy a huge.

"Take care." Daisy said before leaving the cafe.

She ended up walking outside back to her section of the ship before spotting someone else. Recognizing that it was her roommate, she approached her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Good day Miss Crane. Enjoying the view?"