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Samuel Jensen

"I talk. Just not to those I dislike."

0 · 744 views · located in Renaissance England

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

Description

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"People tell quite a lot to people they think unimportant."



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Full Name:
Samuel Jensen [No Middle Name]
   
Nicknames and Aliases:
Sammy
   
Gender:
Male
   
Age:
Nineteen [19]
   
Human Ethnicity:
British-Caucasian   

Sexual Orientation:
Heterosexual
[And known to be a bit of a flirt with the maidservants]
   
Race:
Sylph

Status:
Stable Boy





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Hair Color:
Bright Red, naturally
[Dulls the color with dirt]
   
Eye Color:
Moss Green
   
Height:
[He thinks himself short, and is a little touchy about it]
5'5"   

Weight:
Virtually Weightless
   
Scars:
A few from dealing with a somewhat hostile stallion.
   
Oddities:
His hair, naturally, is a color that is too vivid to be found in a human, and his eyes a brighter green than one might expect, though it might be stumbled across in the human irises. Besides this, the fact that he is weightless is strange- he must wear weights for fear of floating away.





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Personality:
{Prankster, Cheerful, Observant, Prone to Grudges, Loyal}
For the most part, the ladies and lords of the court pay little to no heed to someone so low in the rankings as a simple stable boy. This is something which Sammy gladly uses to his advantage, sneaking about and setting little pranks for anyone who he either really likes or very much despises. Most of the time, he's never caught for these little jokes of his, because, true to his Sylph nature, he disappears like the wind as soon as he's witnessed the fruits of his labors. The fact that he is able to manipulate wind definitely helps when it comes to these little pranks, as well. Most of the time that one sees the young man, he has a mischievous sort of smile on his face, or a sparkle in his eye that those who know him take as a warning- some scheme is about to unfold. Thanks to his love of pranks, the young man knows more about the layout of the castle than Queen Elizabeth herself probably does- he's always sneaking off into some little corner or another.


His jokes are usually rather harmless, of course, and his animated expressions communicate the words that those around him only rarely hear. The smile on his face exists for reasons beyond those of satisfaction over the success of his latest plot. A genuinely cheerful sort of lad, Sammy seems to typically be in a good mood, occasionally caught humming or whistling little tunes to himself while he works. For this, he is pleasant enough to be around, certain to help lighten the moods of others. Besides this, many might seek his company when searching for an ear that might be lent their way. As a result, perhaps, of his typically quiet nature, Sammy is an excellent listener- and has keen eyes that don't seem to miss very much at all. When one does not spend all of their time chattering on or looking at themselves, they catch on to quite a lot- this applies to Sammy. Very little goes on in the stables and grounds that he seems to miss. He even catches on to much of the court gossip, despite not often venturing towards such areas. People often tell things to those they deem unimportant that they would never breathe a word of to anyone else.


While the aforementioned cheerfulness of Sammy's is completely genuine, it does not hold him back from having a temper that people often associate with the bright color of his hair. If insulted in some way, or made to feel looked down upon, Sammy can become quite irritated- and when the stable boy decides he dislikes a person, there can be great consequences for that individual. Sometimes it is simply little pranks here and there, but should he truly form a grudge, they might wake up to find their room torn apart, with nothing stolen. Secrets they hadn't realized someone had heard might be suddenly revealed to the least desirable of people. Basically, it isn't particularly wise to get on the bad side of this typically smiling stable boy, because his knack for pranks and observation can make him a rather formidable enemy. It's best to remain on his good side- for to earn his loyalty is to have a strong friend for a very long time, or until he has been in some way betrayed. Another way to gain his dislike is through the insulting of his friends, another slight he will not tolerate.
   




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Hobbies:
Horseback Riding - Growing up working in the stables, it was inevitable that Samuel should be a capable rider. He came to love riding, as well- he imagines it to be the closest humans can get to truly understanding the wind as a Sylph does.
Pranks - Somewhat devious in his knack for tricks, Sammy is known among the servants for his little tricks and pranks, often played upon the snobbier of the wealthy, and girls he fancies- though usually the latter pranks are more sweet jokes than anything.
Exploring - A fan of adventure, the young man has come to know most every secret part of the castle thanks to his tendency to wander and explore.
      
Habits:
Scratches his head when guilty || Flirts through jokes and pranks || Tends to wander off || Hums/Whistles to Himself
     
Likes/Loves:
  • Horses
  • Strong Wind
  • Running
  • Pranks
  • Good-Humored People
  • Pretty Girls
  • Sweets
  • Exploring
  • Shortcuts
  • A Bit of Roughhousing
  • A Bit of Chaos
  • Animals
  • Controlling Air
Dislikes/Hates:
  • Snobbishness
  • Getting Caught
  • Talking to those he dislikes
  • Wearing Weights
  • Court Etiquette
  • Being Looked Down On
  • His Height
  • Drunkards
  • Stubbornness
  • Incessant Chatter
  • Losing
  • Meat
  • Plays



History:
Samuel is not the first Sylph to work among the animals of the English Court. His father before him, a good name with a gentle nature that worked very well with the animals he trained, was once the kennelmaster for the court. He occupied that position all throughout Sammy's childhood, in fact, and it is he who passed a love of animals onto the red-haired boy. Sammy's mother, meanwhile, worked as a typical maidservant in the castle, cleaning up after the wealthy and often spoiled. One would think that, as supernatural beings with talents beyond those of the people they served, the Jensens would have found higher positions in the court- or at least have made their living in some sort of entertainment, such as the dancing which Sylphs are so often proficient in. His mother had a sweet voice, one which might have earned her a position as a singer of sorts for the entertainment of the royals. But much like their son, the pair preferred positions that did not feel as though they were caged canaries for the amusements of the wealthy and powerful. His father had a high enough position, for the members of the court were fond of their dogs, and the family got by rather well, living in a little cottage right off of the castle, where his father could properly train the dogs to hunt and obey and the like. Sammy grew up in this setting, quite happy under the guidance of two loving, but not to the point of spoiling him, parents.

He was fortunate enough to grow up under this loving roof, as well as to have two parents who were able to teach him how to use his power over wind, to dirty his hair and weigh down his clothing so that he wouldn't float away. Although there were occasional slips, for the most part he was able to keep the truth of himself a secret from his friends. These friends were other children who lived in the palace, anyone from the cook's daughter to the son of a Duke. They would have a wonderful time, ignorant to the differences that their social statuses drew between them. Running through the nearby forest, swimming naked in the river, sneaking about the palace corridors- all of these things were second nature to he and his lot. That is, until they began to grow older, and status began to tear his crew apart. He'd hear it again and again- "don't play with that serving boy, it isn't appropriate." or "He's beneath you, Olive- dirty and unimportant." These scoldings were received by his friends, but they hurt him most of all. Time continued, and by thirteen or so the children had learned to turn up their nose at him, to look the only way. Some would sneak a glance, to try and convey their apologies, but by this point he had already looked away. The young man had become a stable boy at this point, and resigned himself to befriending only other 'low folk' as the ladies and lords had called them.

This also led him to feel a bit of spite towards the upper levels of the court, as seen now by his tendency to play tricks and the like on them. These days, he doesn't associate much with the fancier crowd, though there might be one or two exceptions. Childhood taught him that there is a line between the two- drawn by the wealthy, perhaps, but enforced by both parties. And he wants nothing to do with people who look over their shoulder to make sure no one sees them hanging around him.



Face Claim:
Eddie Redmayne

So begins...

Samuel Jensen'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 à 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 à fait bien, ma fille?- Are you quite alright, girl?
Je suis désolé, Madame. Je ne voulais pas vous inquiéter!- 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: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen

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By all means, Samuel Jensen, one of the two stablehands with fiery red hair, should have been at the stable by dawn, preparing the horses for any noble who might have a sudden desire to ride out across the palacegrounds, or out to the woods. However, Samuel instead opted to sleep in, only waking when one of the other servants, a boy around his age who worked as a footservant, gave him a hard shove off of his bed [or rather, cot of sorts], sending Samuel right onto the hard ground. It was a less than pleasant way to be woken up, but the servant boy, John, merely shrugged and commented that it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't slept him. Despite the pain in his shoulder from the fall, Samuel could not prevent the grin that crept up onto his face. John may have been his friend, but the boy now had the feeling that there would be some sort of consequences for waking up Samuel by pushing him over. After all, the stablehand was known for getting his revenge through pranks and tricks. Before John could make a case in his defense, one of the older servants yelled at them to get to where they should be and start working.

A few moments later, Samuel could be found sneaking into the stable, finding that only one noble was there at the moment- the French lass who had been sent to make connections or something like that. He only assumes the latter bit, as everyone here is doing their damnedest to make as many allies as they can. It's in the nature of the court: alliances and trickery and the like. It is probably a source of his disdain towards most members of the court, young and old. They seem to always be looking to maximize their own benefits. Nothing in life is done simply for the sake of doing it, and when that is the case, he simply interprets it as pampered and spoiled living. There is no way to persuade Samuel away from this bias, it often seems. Like an old man, he is set in his opinions.

He gave the noblewoman, or rather noble girl, little more attention before going about his own business. She was brushing and taking care of her horse, requiring none of his assistance. Thus, Samuel is quite happy to go about feeding and brushing the other horses, ignoring the presence of the blonde lady, as though some invisible force were grooming her horse.

"Jensen, how lovely of you to arrive," the stablemaster, who had noticed him sneak in late after all, orders him. Samuel couldn't really have expected to get away with coming in nearly an hour late without some sort of scolding from the older man. Rather than speaking [as he is typically a boy of few words] Samuel merely shrugs and smiles, his expression a perfect mimicry of the one John had given him after shoving him off of the bed. The stablemaster is rather lenient towards Samuel, perhaps because he dislikes chattiness, and Samuel is usually quite terse. So, after a brief scolding, Samuel is let off without a punishment. Pleased to have evaded serious consequences, the ginger boy goes back to his work, humming some tune or another as he does so.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen

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Jeannette was almost done with the chore of brushing the animal when she heard a bit of commotion around her- the sound of a sharp scolding not unlike what her father had sounded like when he yelled at her for finding herself in places a lady of her position ought to remain out of. Now, it wasn't any of her business what was going on, but Jeannette wasn't exactly one to remain without knowing what was going on. So, she silently watched, under the guise of braiding a bit of the horses' mane, as a thin boy began to go back to what she assumed was his job- she figured he was a stable hand, as he wasn't dressed regally and he didn't appear to have any other reason to be here. The boy had red hair, a shade brighter than anything she had ever seen, though not by much.

Jeannette had met a farmer's family once with her father, who had insisted on talking to people of 'lower standing' because he wanted their opinion on the history of France, though he discovered they couldn't care less about history when their tomorrows were not something they could count on. That family all had flaming red hair and burnt red skin to match, though it was all a bit more... dull, than the stable hands. She almost wondered why that was, but she didn't bother with it long- a smirk was making its way onto her face, the same one that always came onto her face whenever she was about to do something she probably shouldn't.

Jeannette knew she should probably go about her day and head to the lake, where her fun wouldn't be interrupted and she wouldn't be recognized. However, she never was one to do what was safe, so she walked back over to the empty stall that now only housed her shoes and flicked her hand forward, causing a thin swirl of mist to rise from the trough. It slowly congealed until it was a mass of water half a foot or so in diameter. Slowly she raised her hand, and the water again dissipated into mist and rose about the ceiling. Jeannette walked over to her animal again and began to draw the brush over him, though one of her hands remained turned below her, palm towards the ceiling. The mist congealed back into a ball again, this time directly over the stable hand's head.

Jeannette let a few drops fall in a sort of small storm before dropping her focus and letting the whole mass drop towards the stable hand. She didn't watch it fall completely though- rather she simply sniggered under her breath and waited for the shrieking. Jeannette knew what she had just done was awfully dumb, as it didn't make much sense for water to just appear and drop onto someone, but she had discovered that most people didn't believe in fairy-tales and would make up an explanation themselves that hardly ever involved her, leaving her completely clear of any and all blame. It was almost criminal, the fact that Jeannette could pull as many pranks as she wanted to and she almost never got caught- though once or twice she had, and it was something she never wanted to do again. Both times it had been her mother, scolding her for using her gifts 'unnecessarily'. Jean didn't know how what she did with her powers was unnecessary- when Jean was a smaller child her mother would use her power to amuse the young girl in the bath, which Jean thought very unnecessary. What she did with her gifts was up to Jeannette herself, and she liked her choice when it came to using them to cause a tiny bit of mischief.

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: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen

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Jeannette doesn't stop giggling when he smirks towards her, rather she quiets herself so that it isn't so loud and boisterous. She'd seen the smirk on herself before- in the mirror as a maidservant brushed her hair and asked her why salt clung to the blonde tresses and why her skin was tanner than what was considered "pretty" during some summer months. Jeannette knew the smirk meant trouble, but she didn't say something about it- if she didn't comment, perhaps he would let it go. She swung herself onto her horse, forgoing a saddle. The animal didn't like it, and she planned on leaving him for a while to graze about the fields while she swam about. She straightened her posture, as she had always been told to do to appear at her most regal when on a horse, and kicked, making the horse walk forward.

The movement was slow, but she didn't mind, and when she was clear of the stable and far enough away that any watchful eyes would have turned from her, she pushed the horse into a trot and then a gallop, riding as fast as she could until the horse slowed back into a walk of his own accord. It didn't matter- they were close enough to the water anyway. She climbed off the back of the animal and left him near the edge, trusting him not to go far. She doubted he would- her mother always left the horses out on their own while she swam and always personally trained them not to go far, and as this horse was a gift Jeannette knew he had gotten the same treatment.

Jeannette had lead herself to a corner of the palace where prying eyes would have trouble reaching her- that was rather important, considering what she was about to do. She drew her dress up over her head and left it on a nearby tree, leaving it to wave about on its own. The mask on her side was quickly undone as her deft fingers untangled it and lifted it up to her face, tying it. She undid the carefully done hairstyle sadly- it was such a pretty style but it would never last in the water.

Jeannette, unlike many women, didn't feel uncomfortable naked. Of course, propriety told her that she shouldn't be nude in front of others, but she didn't care about it on her own. Still, she undressed on the side of the lake, carefully positioned so that her body was mostly towards a thick line of trees. She left her chemise on- it covered her upper body but wouldn't hinder her transformation any. She loved the feeling of being in the water, but the parts that came before- undressing, carefully watching to make sure no one saw her, all that- it was annoying to say the least.

Jeannette slipped into the water quickly, lifting her body into the cool pool. The change was something Jeannette had grown used to, and it was perhaps one of the most natural feelings to the mermaid. Her pale legs pulled together and changed, scales growing out of skin and the shape of her bones and tendons changing to accommodate their new shape. Jeannette wouldn't describe the feeling as painful, but it was strong and pinching. It didn't take long and soon enough a long, bluish-green tail that started from her waist and ended in two transparent fins could be seen just below the surface.

Jeannette swam in a circle a few times, diving under the waves and popping back up. Jeannette could see fairly well under the water, and she could hold her breath for some time, but she still had to pop back up every now and again. It was nice, the feeling of the water falling down her arms and sliding passed her skin. She swam around , trying to distinguish which way she wanted to go. Towards the palace, where it would be more risky but easier to get back? Or outward, towards where the water bent into town and people would be playing at the water's edge?

Jeannette decided to simply take some time to herself and removed the mask, setting next to her other clothing. She found a bank near a line of trees and pulled herself up onto it, her tail half-way submerged in the waves. The day was quite nice to say the least, and Jeannette enjoyed watching the light glint of the scales at her waist, turning the blue-green aquamarine.

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.