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Rebecca Adams

"If appearances were honest, knowledge would be read on one's skin."

0 · 591 views · located in Renaissance England

a character in “Our Rebirth”, as played by Miss Nomer

Description

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"A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone."



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Full Name:
Rebecca Anne Adams
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Nicknames and Aliases:
Becca, Anne, Lady Adams
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Gender:
Female
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Age:
Twenty-Seven [27]
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Human Ethnicity:
British-Caucasian
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Sexual Orientation:
Bisexual
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Race:
Elf

Status:
Daughter of a Viscount [Who is a Trusted Royal Adviser]





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Hair Color:
Brunette
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Eye Color:
Brown
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Height:
5'8" γ€€γ€€γ€€

Weight:
132lb γ€€
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Oddities:
As do all elves, Rebecca possesses pointed ears that she keeps hidden behind her hair. Otherwise, she is of an appearance which can easily blend in as human. Perhaps as far as appearance goes, the fact that her nose is always stuck in a book might be considered her signature look.





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Personality:
{Intellectual, Obsessive [With Curiosity], Daydreamer, Open-Minded}
It is only natural that the daughter of one of the most influential of the Queen's advisers should be mentally competent. In fact, it would have been an embarrassment to her father, had Rebecca been dimwitted and prone to ditzy behavior. Such behavior may be suitable for some young women of the court, but her father would have slapped Rebecca the moment she batted her eyelashes and downplayed her intelligence- a mercy compared to the scolding she would have received from her mother, a woman of surpassing intelligence who, in truth, is perhaps the real adviser to the queen. Child to two individuals who pride themselves on their mind, she was raised to have one of her own, as well. Rebecca is a very clever young woman, skilled with puzzles and picking apart mysteries that might seem hopeless to other people. Of course, this is only to be expected from a girl known to burn through more than one candle a night reading. The young woman seems determined to read the entire royal library, and then some, and this has only sharpened her mind. She is best with puzzles and riddles of sorts, but can be rather witty when prompted into it. An unfortunate consequence of her intelligence, however, is that she tends to ruminate on things. Those who think a lot tend to overthink things, after all, and that is very often not a desirable thing. It does not do well to dwell, but she can't seem to help it. She places mind before matter in all that she does, one must understand- and she will defend this stance quite loyally.

A sharp mind is often quick to latch onto things, and this is certainly true for Rebecca. She has been known to read one thing on a certain type of bird, become interested in it, and then suddenly spend an entire week reading nothing but things to do with that bird- poems, illustrated guides, etc. She'll even go on a hunt for the bird, quite similar to a child in her tendency to suddenly obsess over a single thing and not let it go until she is finished with it. This is often regarding knowledge more than anything else, though there has been one or two instances in which the young woman found a certain person interesting, and put entirely too much effort into learning more about them than she had any right to. Often times, she is satisfied simply to learn these things, never bothering to talk to the person or something so direct as that. It is the knowledge she desires, not the companionship, after all- or perhaps it never occurred to her that a conversation might have made the person all the more interesting. There are people who become more fascinating the more you know of them, after all- she just rarely takes the time to realize this. Those who become more radiant as they speak are her favorite, though.

Perhaps a version of dwelling, Rebecca has been known to allow her mind to wander rather frequently. She is quite happy to spend an afternoon switching between reading and simply sitting and thinking, mind quite far from the library's windowseat or wherever it is her body dwells. Often times, she has been caught with a glazed expression, accidentally staring at a person who has unwittingly walked into a line of vision that she isn't truly following. Much to the irritation of her honorable parents, Rebecca also has the tendency to allow her mind to wander when she finds a conversation dull or stupid- and by the time the person is done, she has little response to offer because she honestly wasn't paying attention. She might fall back on her wit to mend such situations, but her parents always see through it. Rebecca's mind is in space, a constellation in its own right, though patterns are often hard to draw among the stars.

Rather than refusing to see the point of view of others in an argument, Rebecca is much like a cup waiting to be filled- and when she has poured as much as she can into the cup, she fashions a larger mug to transfer it into. The woman is quite willing to accept new ideas, and while she might not always agree with what a person proposes, she will at the very least be willing to accept that it is the way they think. Saying that she will listen to the idea might be slightly too generous, given her aforementioned tendency to daydream, but she is never one to deny the possibility of something without considering it. After all, her very existence, and the existence of her family and species, proves that people are prone to make very incorrect assumptions. She is not so proud as to exclude herself from this rule. That being said, once she has considered an idea, she still might be likely to reject it- and in doing so might start a heated discussion over the validity of the ideas. Rebecca loves this very much- the discussion of ideas is nearly as enthralling as a good book.




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Hobbies:
Reading - This is expected, for the library might as well be her bedchambers.
Sketching - When interested in something, Rebecca might sketch it a little- birds, people, plant all fill her pages.
Conversation - Despite her bookish ways, the woman is very fond of a good conversation- it just depends on her conversation partner's intelligence.
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Habits:
Pinches the Bridge of Her Nose When Frustrated || Reads and Talks/Walks at the Same Time || Mind Wanders in Conversation || Candid Sketches
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Likes/Loves:
  • Books
  • Sketching
  • The Library
  • Conversations
  • Debates
  • Birds
  • Teatime
  • Climbing Trees
  • Interesting People
  • Puzzles/Riddles
Dislikes/Hates:
  • Boredom
  • Feigned Ignorance
  • Being Interrupted [While Reading]
  • Long, Dull Conversations
  • Closed-Mindedness
  • Flattery/Fawning
  • Sweet Foods
  • Poorly Written Books
  • The Violin
  • Purchasing New Candles




History:
Anne and John Adams both came form families of similar lineage, lower levels of nobility that were more than happy to improve their ranks whenever such an opportunity would arise. They were arranged to marry one another very young, in fact, as both families were aware of one another's elven blood. The families had been composed of those elves which integrated themselves into the human society once the humans began exploring the woods and putting their day-to-day lives in danger of being exposed. Of course, Anne's family still had contacts in one of the Elven communities hidden deep in one of the English forests, so she had perhaps a more true knowledge of her people's culture than John did. Still, upon being married the two found that they both shared many things- ambition and quick wits being among them. The two were able to weave friendships and alliances which made them rather influential in the court, despite their status near the bottom of the hierarchy of nobility. Anne, in particular, would come to be a good friend and adviser to the queen, perhaps having more influence than her husband, who had a more official position as an adviser.

These are the parents who brought Rebecca into the world. Rebecca is their eldest and only daughter, and spent a good amount of time as an only child. With parents who put such a great emphasis on academics and the capacity of the mind, it was inevitable that much of her childhood would be spent in the library, or receiving lessons from tutors, whether in her family's small castle or while at court- the latter being more common due to her parents' positions of trust. Rather than making her dislike the books that were forced on her, the education sparked a love of knowledge into the young woman. She perhaps cannot ride as well as many other ladies of the court, or play an instrument finely, but she has likely read more books than many of the palace's scholars, and is far from done. Her love for books and knowledge started very young, and it wasn't long before she was falling asleep to a book, often found dozing off with one in her lap and the candle beside her close to burning out. Her parents were glad for this love of reading, but also encouraged her to interact with others, fearing that a daughter who did little else but stick her nose in a book would not go far in the court. It was around this age that they also began teaching her to hide her elemental powers, the primary one being control over flame because, at the time, the young lady thought it very useful for reading without a candle.

Thus, they tried to inspire in her a love for conversation and debate- opening a world of knowledge exchanged between people that their daughter, already prone to throwing herself into the acquisition of knowledge on specific things with a sort of singlemindedness, embraced fullheartedly. As she has grown older, her parents have begun to think that by now she ought to be thinking of the marriage. The young woman seems more concerned with what book she will be reading next, however, and in many ways is exactly the way she was as a child now, despite being an adult.



Face Claim:
Keira Knightley

So begins...

Rebecca Adams's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cecily Evercott Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Alice may Character Portrait: Frances Melbourne Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen Character Portrait: Nyna Selova Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Ygritte Armistead Character Portrait: Hugh Wyndham

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#, as written by Felilla
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It is year 1572 where we begin our story. The Queen's Court had recently moved to Windsor for the summer, seeing as it was one of the Queen's favorite places. For the time, everyone seemed to still be settling into the palace, but most people in the Court were used to traveling. However, this is not a story about the simple people of the Court. No, this story is about the members of it that are slightly less than human.

The summer heat was getting to everyone in the Court. It was almost like the sun was trying to kiss the earth, something that should never happen. In a particular room, one single girl by the name of Cecily Euphemia Evercott reclined in a chair as her skittish maidservant hurried around, cleaning the small quarters. To be honest, Cecily did not mind having a small bedchamber. It was the price she paid for having a room to herself. She was growing quite weary of the new maidservant though, a "present" from Her Majesty, brought from France. The young woman did not speak one word of English, but that was not a problem for Cecily, who was well known for her linguistic abilities. The only thing that truly bothered Cecily was the maid's much too cautious behavior. It made the Lady of the Court wonder what could be wrong with the poor girl. She was barely older than Cecily herself. When she looked up from her book, the maid was staring at her.

Startled, the girl looked down and started sweeping furiously. "Etes-vous tout Γ  fait bien, ma fille?*" Cecily questioned, standing up.

The maid dropped her broom, her eyes wide as she faced Cecily. "Je suis désolé, Madame. Je ne voulais pas vous inquiéter!" she exclaimed quickly, picking up her broom. She looked at Cecily again, "Vous parlez français."

Cecily let out a small laugh, "Oui."

It was like the maid had suddenly changed. She became very excited as she brought the broom close to her. "Voulez-vous me enseigner l'anglais?"

"Oui, nous allons commencer simple. Quel est votre nom?" Cecily questioned the young girl.

"Alexis," she replied in a thick French accent.

Cecily shook her head, "Non. My name is..."

Alexis bit her lip as Cecily repeated herself two more times. "M-my name i-is... Alexis?"

The Lady nodded her head, clapping her hands. Alexis grinned at Cecily, bobbing a curtsey. Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Instead of having the English impaired Alexis answer it, Cecily moved past her. She unbolted the door, easing it open. The person she saw came as a bit of a shock to the nineteen year old girl. "What a pleasant surprise."



*Translations:
Etes-vous tout Γ  fait bien, ma fille?- Are you quite alright, girl?
Je suis dΓ©solΓ©, Madame. Je ne voulais pas vous inquiΓ©ter!- I am so sorry, Lady. I did not mean to worry you!
Vous parlez français- You speak French.
Oui- Yes.
Voulez-vous me enseigner l'anglais?- Will you teach me English?
Oui, nous allons commencer simple. Quel est votre nom?- Yes, let's start out simple. What's your name?
Non.- No

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams

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Rebecca has been awake since the very early hours of this day, before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. This is not because she has risen early, however, but rather because the young woman never came around to falling asleep. Having been completely absorbed in a book on the history of some far away place or another, it never occurred to her that the sun had set long ago, and that it might be best to sleep. Thus, with a candle beside her that has completely burned away, she closes the book only to realize that it is now morning. She briefly considers simply going to sleep despite the time of day, but decides against it rather quickly. That would only ruin her sleep tonight --assuming that she doesn't find herself in the exact same situation at that point, as well. The frequency with which she functions without having slept at night has increased of late, and the practice has made her better at functioning without rest. Still, it isn't exactly the best of habits to keep up, and she does occasionally tire of having the bags under her eyes [from lack of sleep] commented on.

After splashing her face with water that is pleasantly cold, given the heat that England has experienced this summer, Rebecca quickly dresses. She has a maid, perhaps for appearance's sake, but her family has always been one which preferred to do things on their own- especially things so simple as putting on one's own dress. Perhaps there are times when putting on a dress is anything but simple, actually, but this is a day for simple, more casual frocks, and Rebecca is all the happier for it. Besides, she doesn't like to have any servants around before she has brushed out her hair. After all, her ears are rather different than those of a human, and she prefers to not feed the rumors of the peculiar 'Adams family's ear mutation.' Better that the humans make their own little assumptions than start guessing at other possibilities, Rebecca supposes. It is a shame, though, as she prefers not to have her hair on her neck- especially in this weather. Still, it is safer to leave it down, and so this is what she does.

It is not long before she can be found in the library, returning the book she had taken out the night before and searching for another one. She had hoped to reread a piece on greek philosophy, but it appears to be missing at the moment. Her hands hesitate briefly over a copy of the Canterbury Tales, before moving on to a book likely written in reflection of Tamar the Great, of Georgia. There is little doubt in Rebecca's mind as to where she will go to read this book. There is a tree in one of the gardens that twists and bows in such a way so as to make it ideal as a reading place. It is one of the first thing that comes to the mind of the woman whenever someone mentions Windsor, for she has spent many hours and days beneath the shade of that tree, or sitting among its branches with a book before her.

Plans set, Rebecca departs from the library and walks to the garden in mind, soon finding the tree and a stone bench beneath it, only recently placed there. The sight makes her smile, though it changes the image that has been in her mind since childhood.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Daniel Blythe

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Daniel walked at a brisk pace through the courtyard hoping to distance himself from the mansion. A twinge of guilt probed at his heart. The Dutchess was a charming lady, and he felt no desire to hurt her feelings. Maybe it would be easier if he returned for morning tea? Or lunch? Would she even care to associate with him in public? A lady in her thirties in a relationship with someone so young..people would ask questions.

Debating these things in his mind, the youth turned a corner on the brick street and saw the Queen's gardens. On such a warm day the sun gave every flower a supernatural radiance and every leaf a verdant glow. The view held such serenity that Daniel stopped on the path and took it all in. A warm breeze blew from the garden, carrying the scent of ripe roses and willows. He breathed in deeply and decided to leave his current mental debate in favor of a stroll through nature.

The entrance to the gardens was an ivy-covered arbor, built in a crude fashion to retain the natural beauty of the place. There were many entrances along the perimeter of the gardens, but this was one of the few with a fountain by the entrance. Clear water spurting from the mouth of a stone angel, splashing gently into the reservoir below. Daniel smiled and plunged his hands into the cold liquid, splashing his face and rubbing around his neck and eyes. He drank two or three times, breathing deeply after each gulp. Feeling satisfied and refreshed, he continued deeper into the garden.

After walking perhaps a quarter-mile through the flowers and fruit trees, Daniel was approaching the portion of the gardens devoted to larger, untamed trees. The lower limbs were trimmed of course; but each tree towered above the standard cottage and was too massive for standard trimming. So the gardeners would monitor their health and population, only allowing a certain amount to grow at once. Simulating a forest without inundation, Daniel noted. He was enjoying how the foliage abated most of the sunlight and how the massive trunks hid him from the world. It was liberating, like one could just think here. He soaked up every second..then his eyes fell upon Lady Adams.

He stopped walking and considered his options. This was a grand stroke of luck, finding her alone without high society to fuss over protocol. But she was in a higher position than he, and he had heard stories from the other young men how she treated them coolly and without much interest. Books, that was all she cared for. He could see she was clutching one to her chest now, and oddly staring at a stone bench. The stance struck him as funny. Maybe it was the fresh fountain water, or maybe it was the serene feel of the gardens that emboldened him. Either or, he calmly strode until he was a few feet behind her.

"It really is quite a lovely bench, my lady. Do you prefer to stare at them rather than sit on them?" His voice was both calm and playful; and he could not resist a small smile as he spoke.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Daniel Blythe

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At some point, appreciating the placement of the stone bench had simply caused Rebecca's mind to wander far off from it's original track, something not unusual for the young woman. Thus, she stands before the bench, clutching her book, simply staring at it with a sort of distant look. Given this expression and position, it perhaps isn't too unusual that what breaks her out of her faraway thoughts is a voice questioning the fact that she is doing nothing but gazing at a bench. She briefly considers his words, a faint smile tracing its way across her face, because she has certainly been caught doing something very pointless indeed. This wouldn't be the first time, of course. When not engaged in conversation or a book, the lady of the court is often looking at something but not seeing it, entranced in the workings of her own mind. Whether she be thinking of something as trivial as needing to order new candles, or considering something such as the last book she read and the lessons it held, the world around her temporarily ceases to exist altogether. Ever since childhood, she has had a special talent for losing track of the world around her, if only briefly. Well, her parents often described it as less of a talent and more of a poor habit- it did give her the appearance of foolishness at times. Such as this one, in which she has been found staring at a bench for no reason whatsoever.

"Everyone has their hobbies, of course. If you can't appreciate a fine bench, what hope is there?" she responds, still with a faint smile that suggests half of her mind is still on break at the moment, though the remaining half is here to cover for it in its absence. Having said this, Rebecca finally turns around to see who it is that has stumbled across her in her absent-minded state. The man is familiar, of course- the curly-haired son of a Duke, known for his tendency to charm at parties. Rebecca has never spoken to Lord Blythe in person, perhaps because she only attends smaller parties that have a greater focus on meal and discussion, whereas he might be more inclined towards ones where ladies dress themselves up more.

Courtesy in mind, Rebecca dips into a shallow curtsy. He is the son of a Duke, a Marquess, while she is merely the daughter of a Viscount. Her family's power lies in its intelligence and political talents, rather than blood that runs with royalty in the genes. "I fear for society, the day such a bench goes unnoticed, my lord," she adds, still with that half smile and a voice that is a mix of cool and warm- distant but friendly, perhaps. She has not seen him around this garden in previous court visits to the Windsor Palace- she would know, visiting it as frequently as she does her own bedchambers.



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Samuel had been quite content to continue about his business, humming cheerfully as he usually does, grooming and feeding various horses. The stablemaster had gone off to deal with some matter or another, and any other stablehand who might have been in the area was keeping very quiet indeed. Perhaps this is fortunate for the French lady, who is about to play a trick of sorts on Samuel, who is rather unsuspecting. Why should his guard be up against possible attacks, after all? The only other person he knows to be about his some random lady of the court, and she isn't near enough to cause any problems. He is glad for this, not being overly fond of dealing with the noble folk. Small drops of water falling upon his head come as a surprise, then, and he looks up to see if perhaps there is water clinging to the wooden roof above him. It may have rained a bit last night, and he simply hadn't noticed. Unfortunately, this look leaves him completely vulnerable to the sudden splash of water that falls straight into his face, thoroughly rinsing through his hair and over his face, soaking even his shoulders and shirt.

However, as he stands silently --the humming having now ceased-- a small image tugs at his mind. Just before the water dropped onto him, it had seemed to float over head, as though held their by an invisible container. He looks over and catches sight of the French lady laughing, perhaps at the sight of him thoroughly soaked. Had it been a prank openly carried out by a fellow servant, he might have grinned and admitted it was a good joke. However, having been drenched by a mysterious source of water, with only a snickering little lady to see, does not suit him very well indeed. It is rather hypocritical of him, perhaps, but the young man is a long way away from enjoying being laughed at by some rich lass. As far as he is concerned, it's quite alright for him to pull pranks on them, because it levels the playing field in some way. He is cheerful, but frightfully clouded with double standards.

And, thus, rather than giving her the satisfaction of becoming irritated or showing extreme reaction, he just returns back to his work, humming once more despite the fact that soaked clothing now clings to his skin. Perhaps he'll get revenge later on, but he's hardly going to do it now- that would require using his powers in a way that would certainly cause her to ask questions, and he isn't going to play the part of the fool. He may love jokes, but he doesn't fancy the idea of getting caught as being something more than human, anymore than his parents would like for their son to reveal their secret. He does give her a look of sorts, though, one equal parts curious and knowing.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Daniel Blythe

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Daniel responded to her words with a merry laugh and returned her courtesy with a small bow. The rumors about her attitude were true--she spoke as if far away and not even attached to the earth. Nevertheless Daniel marveled at her quick wit and wondered what she might be capable of if her whole heart was devoted to a topic. In all his ventures through several countries, he found no one that matched his zeal for knowledge and application; but now a shred of fear [respect] worked into his mind as he briefly considered her potentional.

"Lady Adams, you are too wonderful. I fear for society as well." After the formality he relaxed his posture, allowing one hand to rest in his coat while the other aided in the conversation. Too often his mother had scolded him for letting his hands talk with his mouth, but it was a deeply ingrained habit. And truth be told this little habit added to the eagerness in his personality. Even now he was tapping his chest with an index finger, drawing attention to himself.

"Oh you probably think me rude! My name is Daniel Blythe, and it is my honor to meet you." He bowed again, this time sweeping his hand out dramatically. At that moment he imagined what he must look like--hair tousled and damp at the fringes from fountain water, a fine stubble around his mouth and neck, and his clothes rumpled from lying on the bedroom floor all night. His cheeks turned a shade pink and he chuckled softly to himself. Oh I am the perfect fool. I started this conversation, and now I have to end it abruptly before she forms the worst opinion of me.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Daniel Blythe

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Although her eyes ought to have been on his face while the young man before her speaks to Rebecca, she finds herself watching his hand instead. It flits about with every word he says, as though he simply cannot bear to express his thoughts with anything less than three mediums: spoken, facial expressions, and hand gestures. A half-funny thought passes through her mind, of the curly-haired fellow suddenly going mute and quite energetically communicating exclusively through animated charades. The miscommunication such a thing would likely lead to might be equal parts amusing and unfortunate. Given the way he moves his hand when speaking is possible, she imagines that he would be quick to use gestures should words fail him. Rebecca does not have this in common with the Marquess- she relies on her words to express herself, for the most part, as her expressions are unreliable. They may give insight into the meaning behind her words at times, but will often be intermixed with reactions to stray thoughts in her mind, making her face an unreliable source of information regarding the woman. This suits her well, as she doesn't like to rely on facial expressions to guess the thoughts of others, and would dislike it if she could be read like a book, while others were a mystery to her. It would be horribly unfair, as far as she is concerned.

She raises an eyebrow at his calling her wonderful, prepared to deflect the compliment, but loses the chance as he continues on to agree with her fear for society. At this point, his hand gestures have settled down somewhat, drawn back a rhythmic tapping against his chest. Her eyebrows find themselves remaining up, as he suddenly bows with a flourish, introducing himself [which is useful, as she hadn't known his given name] and begging pardon for not doing so earlier. Of course she doesn't find him rude- the thought of introductions had slipped her mind as well. Not feeling in the mood for excessive curtsying, she nods her head this time, "Of course not, my lord. I am Rebecca Adams. The pleasure is all mine," she says, but while her words speak of introductions, her eyes are beginning to pick up on things that previous absent-mindedness [and distraction from the ever-moving hand] had kept out of sight. The young man looks quite rumpled, really, as though he had rolled out of bed and immediately come to the gardens. This wouldn't be a strange thing, necessarily --though most would take care to shave or put on fresh clothing first.

It is then that his reputation for being popular with the ladies of the court comes to her, and Rebecca wonders if he has yet to be to his own bedchamber at all. It is none of her business, of course, and she's hardly going to bring it up. Such behavior wouldn't be strange for a man of his youth, after all. "And what brings you to the courtyard, milord? Looking for a bed of moss for a nap, perhaps?"
her decision had been initially not to mention his disheveled appearance, and yet her words seem to hint that she doesn't believe he'd slept much that evening.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Daniel Blythe

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He nodded pleasantly at the introduction, entertained at the constant fluctuation of her eyebrows. As if the only parts of her body which could move were those two slender patches of soft hair above her eyes. And of course those lips--each word was spoken slowly and calmly, with an air of ancient wisdom. But the rest of her body remained perfectly still, Daniel noted. As if words were all that mattered; not actions, not emotions, but words only. He pondered what this meant as she asked him a second question.

A bed of moss? Is she hinting at my disheveled looks or something more..? The young man laughed again, pretending to find her question humorous but actually laughing at the thought of this cold and distant girl flirting with anyone. He hung his head slightly to the side and studied her face for a moment with a warm smile still tugging at his lips. Those eyebrows.. by far her most expressive feature. And they arch to some unknown question: most likely confused and a bit annoyed at my presence. But beneath them--those eyes so bright and yet so cold. Like starlight. Was Lady Adams lonely? None of these thoughts showed on his face as he continued the conversation.

"Not this morning I regret, m'lady. As you have no doubt noticed I am in need of a new outfit and some grooming." He gestured to himself while speaking. Beginning to feel silly, a shy smile stole his face and he took a little step away from Rebecca. "I will leave you in the good company of .." He nodded to her book "..Tamar, though perhaps in the future I will entertain your invitation to a bed of moss." His eyes sparkled flirtatiously at the last statement, hoping to elicit some human reaction from those inhuman eyes--even if the reaction was anger.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Landon Kinsley Character Portrait: Daniel Blythe

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Samuel's eyes followed the blonde noblewoman until she and her horse are out of sight. She had quieted down upon meeting his eyes, and he already took that as a slight step towards having won. Of course, it is childish to think this way, but no one has ever accused the flame-haired stable boy of being overly mature or wise. His knowledge is the flexible, fluid sort that is so common in youth, valuable in its ability to change, but lacking the concrete quality of the crystallized intelligent one earns from age and experience. He is good at pranks, but not advice, and could perhaps solve a riddle or create a new solution for an old problem, but might falter in a conversation brimming with references and past knowledge. This is perhaps to be expected of him, though, for he has not had enough experience in his short 19 years to be deeply interesting, and is not well read enough to borrow from others. In fact, he has never read at all, really --Samuel's literacy level is painfully low. It is not necessary for a stablehand to be well-read, after all. His parents taught they what they knew, but their literacy is similarly unimpressive.

Another person walked in soon after the blonde had left, but the sight of the individual only put a sort of scowl on Samuel's face. Landon is well known for his snobbishness, which some of the servants view as unjustified due to his lack of noble blood. Some of the maidservants seem to fancy him, much to the confusion of many other members of the staff. Samuel is far from Landon's biggest fan, clearly, because he cannot stand the disdain with which the man seems to look down upon other servants. Luckily, they have little exposure to each other --Landon rarely asks for anything to be done with his horse when he visits the stables, typically just leading the horse away briskly, as he has just done. Not sorry to see him go, Samuel is about to start grooming another horse when a maidservant comes into the stable with her mistress. Samuel smiles at the maid, who has very pretty brown eyes, and bows to the noblewoman, face void of warmth. The two chatter about some event that is to be held in the next day or so. Uninterested, Samuel tunes out initially. However, upon hearing something about servants being able to attend, his attention is caught. He listens enough to learn that it is a ball, meant for servants and nobility to intermingle without knowledge as to who is who.

Admittedly, he finds the idea rather interesting. It is tempting, the thought of anonymously interacting with people who don't know whether he is nobility or a servant. His hair and calloused hands would likely give him away, but the thought still remains.



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Rebecca is content enough with the course of the conversation, for while she is enjoying it well enough, the woman really is itching to fall [mentally speaking] into the novel that is still resting in her arms. Lord Blythe begins to bid her farewell, citing his need for clean clothing and grooming as a reason for going. She has no qualms with this, as previously mentioned, and his looks are rather funny at the moment. Of course, and she would be unlikely to say this out loud, she finds certain aspects of his appearance sort of silly to begin with. His hair, for example, makes her think more of a child, perhaps two years old, than a young lord. And the use of his hands all the time is funny to watch, this goes without saying.

She is about to say goodbye, and perhaps find a comfortable spot on the bench to begin reading, when he makes the comment about her invitation for a bed of moss. There is a millisecond in which she is taken off guard, confused by his response. It is then that she realizes her statement to have been misinterpreted. Rather than a suggestion that he had been in a woman's bed last night, he takes her moss comment as a recommendation that he join her on one --that seems to be the case, anyway. Not wanting to be misunderstood again, she falters for but a moment. In a typical conversation, this missing of a beat would be typical --in the case of Rebecca, it is a hint at her hesitation.

"It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I'm afraid that I'll have to pass on such an opportunity in the future, milord. I'd rather a book in the moss than a boy," she says, quickly returning back to the situation at hand. The surprise had created a slight delay, but not a block. She curtsies very shallowly once more. "Until next time,"
she adds, probably waiting for him to leave before she sits and begins reading. To do so before he has at least turned away might come across as slightly rude, after all.