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Annual Autumnal Benefit Ball



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4 October 2016, 03:15 PM   #1
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
Last edited by ‹ㅑJïNxㅜㅇNㅕ›, 12 October 2016
Come one, Come all! After eleven years , and a rather unfortunate accident, St. Helga's Asylum is opening its doors to the public yet again! Put on your best party dress and enjoy yourselves! The staff at St. Helga's would like to remind all attending of the proper ballroom etiquette, as we would hate to have to endure another misfortune. ✗ A man who knows how to dance, and refuses to do so, should absent himself from a ball. ✗ Always recognize the lady or gentleman, or the director of ceremonies with becoming politeness: a salute or bow is sufficient. ✗ The ladies' dressing-room is a sacred precinct, into which no gentleman should presume to look. To enter it would be an outrage not to be forgiven. ✗ Noisy talking and boisterous laughter in a ballroom are contrary to the rules of etiquette. ✗ In a ballroom, never forget nor confuse your engagements. If such should occur, an apology, of course, must be offered and pleasantly accepted. ✗ Great care should be taken by a lady in refusing to dance with a gentleman. After refusing, she should not accept another invitation for the same dance. ✗ A lady should always have an easy, becoming and graceful movement while engaged in a quadrille or promenade. It is more pleasing to the gentleman. ✗ Lastly, the exterior and upper levels of St. Helga's are strictly off-limits. Should any patient or guest be found loitering out of bounds they will be swiftly removed from the premises or taken to solitary confinement. Attire-wise, please follow the guidelines we have included. Should you attend without following said guidelines, you may be asked to leave the premise. ✗ Attending ladies are asked to wear floor-length gowns that are not too revealing in the bust or backside. Elderly ladies are permitted to wear blue or yellow, married ladies are to wear any colored gowns (excluding white) so long as they are made of silk, and ladies in mourning are to don black, scarlet, or violet. Unwed ladies with lighter-colored hair are asked to wear pink, salmon, light blue, maize, apple green, or other light-colored gowns, while darker haired ladies are permitted to don rich and brilliant colors. White, bronze, or black shoes are permitted. All of the ladies accessories for the evening — gloves, shoes, flowers, and fans — should be fresh and new. ✗ The attending gentleman would wear a black superfine dress-coat, pair of well-fitting pants of the same color, and a black or white vest. He may also have a black or white cravat, tie or stock (not made of silk). In addition, a pair of patent leather boots with low heels, white or lavender kid gloves, and a white linen cambric handkerchief are permitted. The hair should be well dressed, without too many curls. Excess of jewelry should not be worn: simple studs, gold solitaire sleeve-links, and a watch chain—massive with charms and appendages. Perfumes would be avoided as effeminate; if used at all, only for the handkerchief, they would be of the very best scent so as not to offend. ooc: like last time the ball will run for the entire month of October, giving people enough time to join & do replies. tonight!! all threads aside from the ballroom will be LOCKED. normal rp will resume in november. ladies can find their gowns here if they'd like to include a photo of what they're wearing.
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

4 October 2016, 08:30 PM   #2
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
"But it is against the rules!" Exclaimed Evangeline as the nursemaid tugged the ribbons of her corset tighter, tighter. "The doctor will have me escorted out, please, you mustn't make me." "Doctor Haste has insisted you wear this, child. You and every other girl have been blessed to have a doctor who cares so much for you that he would take the time and hand-select each and every gown, glove and hairpiece. You ought to be thanking him for such generosity. Breath in, now -" Another sharp tug at the strings of her corset made Evangeline gasp and reach out for the wall to support herself. "Only ladies in mourning are meant to wear black.", she argues, but receives no response. They'd been instructed not to tell her: this day marked the decade anniversary of the death of her mother. ____ "You look - nice." The blonde doctor flicked his tongue across his lips, eyes falling anywhere but Evangeline. She didn't know why, she couldn't know the history, but she smiles anyways. The dress had been carefully chosen by Dr. Haste himself - black. Black with delicate embroidery and lacing done consistently throughout the skirt and bodice, sheer sleeves allowing her unblemished arms to breath. Her waist-long hair had been done up halfway, leaving some curls to tumble down her back while the rest sat atop her crown in a delicate wreath. Eva had foregone gloves, but waiting for her beside her bed was a beautiful, simplistic mask of red and black lace - symbolic, unknown to little Evangeline, of her mother. ____ Like that year so many years ago the ballroom was extravagantly decorated in varying rich shades of blue and green, candlelight flickering from multiple candelabras and table centerpieces. The refreshments table had been tucked far into a back corner to allow maximum room for festivities and as always, the dance floor was ever-bustling with giggling young women and older gentlemen. Businessmen and their trophy-wives were scattered throughout the hall, talking to some doctor or other, learning just what made St. Helga's Asylum so special -- and, as always, wandering eyes and low whispers spoke tales of ghosts long-since seen; an old doctor with his face half missing, a young girl with a burlap sack over her head, a brunette with the back of her head smashed in. Just rumors, silly talk that made the haunting season so especially exciting. "Back straight. Chin up." Her escort whispers low into her ear as they begin their descent into the ballroom. Though Russell Dovington had not been at the asylum for some time, Evangeline felt at ease to be at his side once again. It was almost as if they'd gone back in time; she hadn't been much older than five when she stood on the feet of the kind doctor and they waltzed around her room in secrecy, far away from the death and torment of the asylum, far from the sharp tongue of the good doctor. Evangeline laces her fingers in through Dovingtons as they walk along, squeezing gently. She would be safe from the good doctor if she stayed at his side - right? Gracefully, slyly, she brings a handful of hair over her shoulder to hide the brand that'd been so crudely forced upon her neck. dress | mask
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

6 October 2016, 12:45 AM   #3
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Everything was beautiful. The colors of green and blue resting against the dark wooden planks looked marvelous. Tea cups. Small plates. Service men dressed in honorable black with white handkerchiefs. It was all so elegant. Record time too. Haste had started planning rather close to the finish- Just three months ago. Meticulous all-night preparations of all the staff and patients finally led up to one of Elliot's favorite nights of the year. The annual Autumn Charity Ball. Correction, one of his favorite nights to drink away in sedative nostalgia. Child's play. He breathed, as he escorted himself through the collection of well dressed money- er - people- In order to reach the platform. After all these years of celebrating, dancing, and harvesting each and every smile to perfection... Elliot felt rather- to put it simply- bored. disinterested. Smile. Independent of his thoughts, Elliot stopped and greeted a couple warmly. Making sure to mention, 'How he appreciated their gracious sponsoring.' The couple was charmed at how fanciful the gala was. Extravagant. Elliot politely thanked them both. The shared some more small talk, and dispersed. Elliot had to entertain this pattern at least twenty more times before he was half-way in the middle of the ballroom. ** Elliot yawned into his gloved hand, and with his free hand brought his bronze watch into view. The bronze ticker perched at five thirty. The ball wasn't set to start until six o'clock. Although, the building was already packed with warm bodies and fine linen. It was maddening, to say the least. Elliot was happy a few years back, hosting the gala. But back then he was also completely petrified of screwing things up. This year was particularly impressive because he basically planned everything half awake, in the middle of the night, pouring liquor in one hand, and signing checks with another. And everything still ended in perfection. Dull perfection. As well as, the soft drumming in his head mentioned sweet suicide. But Dr. Haste was already on stage now. The crowd kindly applauded. "Honored Guests and Gracious Patrons. My name is Dr. Elliot Austin Haste. I am the Head physician and psychologist here at St. Helga's." Elliot softly clears his throat, "I cannot begin to convey how grateful we are at St. Helga's to have your support. It goes without saying, that without such charitable giving, St. Helga's Asylum for Girls would be just another God-forsaken London litter. Or worse... An Almshouse." The crowd mumbled and gasped. The community of wealth was disgusted and appalled. Someone even shouted, Christ's name. There was no shortage of wealthy English Londoner's who new the shame and filth that an Almshouse would bring to the city. The property had to have some better function then housing the homeless, orphan, and crippling drunkard. The majority of sponsors were happy London noblemen, that enjoyed a clean city and money in their pockets. It was a none fact that the more almshouses a city had, the more poor, the less money, and the less clean a place would be. "Yes, yes." Elliot inwardly rolled his eyes. Then coaxed the crowd to hush. "Not only that, but many of our fair London Ladies may now have a hope. A future. St. Helga's was founded in order to cleanse the Hysteria and produce the elegant breed of women which London is none for. For which your daughters, wives, and soon to be mothers- St. Helga's Asylum promises to shape them as refined and gentle creatures. In return St. Helga asks for nothing. We believe that there should be no fee for a women to have a sound mind. Since I've become a doctor here, I've seen so many crushed spirits grow wings again. So once again I thank you, because there would've never been such transformations without the church nor your charity." Applause. "Tonight, there is a special prize for the donor that gives the most~ But tonight is mainly about the festivities. There will be tours of the asylum promptly at six o'clock. Starting at the gate. Please feel free to preview the first floor's amazing facilities. And any questions you have, me and my staff would be honored to answer." Applause. Bow. Applause Child's play.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

6 October 2016, 03:04 AM   #4
Joined: 30 May 2016
Posts: 37
Last edited by ‹YouCanCallMeHannahNow›, 6 October 2016
It's been over a decade since she's stepped foot in the ballroom and still it's as if nothing has changed. The patients are still paraded around like prizes the doctor's have won. Her first two years at the aslyum, Eleanor Rose was forbidden from attending the annual ball and was instead locked in solitary confinement for a day. The first time for biting the nurses who tried to dress her and the second year for attacking the head doctor with a letter opener. She'd received several lashings and still bore the scars. Her third year, Eleanor Rose had made her debut in a stunning gown. Rumor has it she charmed an English lord into almost running away with her before the nurse's caught on and escorted her from the room. But Eleanor Rose was dead now everyone knew that. She took her own life days after she was sent away from the asylum. There was a statue in the center of a rose garden dedicated to her memory. Eleanor Rose was dead and Isabella Frandsen now stood in her place. Eleanor was wild, violent, crazy. Isabelle Frandsen was renowned for her poise and grace. If it wasn't for the sky blue eyes the two women shared even someone who knew the girl well could tell her true identity. Isabella stands near the back of the ballroom, dressed in a dark red dress and black gloves, with her arm looped through her husbands. Their marriage had been somewhat controversial when it occurred. Victor was thirty-five, a doctor of high standing and wealth. Isabella had been seventeen, from a family of lower middle standing. The fact that he had already been widowed twice did not seem to help the matter any. But the whispers seemed to end after Isabella did what his first two wives could not. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Eleven years later, here she was a mother of five and at only twenty-eight. Her younger children had been left at home with the governess but her eldest two where here, playing in a corner with several other children. Isabella and her husband turned the attention to the stage as the head doctor speaks. ****** The memories hit her like a giant wave. Years ago, she'd been just a girl. The ball, all those ladies in pretty dresses. The garden. A body falling from the clock tower. Blood on her nice white dress. Dr. Harland pulling her away from the sight. She'd been so hysterical after that they nurses where forced to sedate her for nearly a week. Eleanor Rose had only seen two dead bodies in her life. The first time she had been thirteen and the body lying at her feet was dead by her hand. The second time she was sixteen. Her friend, a girl she considered a sister, threw herself from the clock tower. ****** "Come, love, it's time you met the head doctor." Isabella had been so lost in thought she hadn't noticed Dr. Haste had finished his speech and suddenly her husband was leading him towards her. She was sure he would not recognize her behind her the black lace mask she wore but she could not shake the nerves welling up in her stomach. "Dr. Haste," Victor says extending his hand out to the head doctor. Victor was being allowed to run a few experiments on the patients at St. Helga's, partially due to the immense amount of money he had donated and partially due to the board of directors desire to pull the asylum out of the past. Victor's methods had proven themselves worthy however they were still considered radical by many of the doctors. "Please, allow me to introduce my wife Isabella." She smiles and extends a hand, always the proper lady. She hopes to God no one can tall that her other hand is trembling, "Lovely to meet you. My husband has told me so much about your work here at St. Helga's."
Isabella Frandsen. Twenty-eight. 
They used to shout my name now they whisper it

Dr. Victor Frandsen. Forty-six. Experimental psychology. 
If I had a heart, I could love you

Violet De'Amastus. Sixteen. Pyromaniac. 
I'm meaner than my demons

7 October 2016, 02:00 AM   #5
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Elliot floated down the podium stairs, and just as he turned his head, 'Dr. Haste,' His name was called. A vaguely familiar voice. "Victor. Welcome." Haste shook his friend's hand. Haste knew the Frandsen's especially well. They mostly would run across each other at similar charity events, or political halls. Especially the political spectrum. There, the Frandsen family were good allies; Haste's family didn't exactly love paying much attention to parliament. It came in handy, having political savvy colleagues in your back pocket. Certainly, by now they were on first name basis. Regardless of their close-knitted common families, at the very least they were both doctors. Smile. Haste raised an eyebrow, when Victor mentioned a wife. Another one? Poor chap. Elliot briefly thought back- yes he must've heard something about the wedding. Elliot remembered sending a tasteful gift and all that in the mail. 'Ah- so thisis the Ms. Frandsen.' Haste gently took the maiden's hand, looking her over, and yes he did notice. "Nervous my dear?" Haste brushed his lips against her hand. He was charming. Warm. "Oh, has he...?" Haste said looked to Victor. Haste was a tad bit shy when it came to his work. Especially around a Lady. It was- business. Tonight was suppose to be about pleasure. Haste gladly thanked her, "heh, Thank you. I'm the one whose honored. It's always an honor to meet such a graceful rose." Elliot was referring to how docile and well elegant Isabella was. Elliot didn't much care for his earlier marriages, if only because none of them were as beautiful. "If you are interested..~" Haste placed a finger on his chin, thoughtfully, "I'm directing tours in another half hour or so. You'll be able to learn more about the property, and the treatments...?" "Although, i'd be happy to give you two a private tour." Haste smiled, "Victor, it's the least i could do." Victor's wife seemed curious. As if she was genuinely interested in the facility. This was the first women of the evening who mentioned Haste's work. Or any calculating activity. Haste was intrigued. She must've been one of those 'cognitive' lassies. Or maybe she was just blowing smoke. Either way- Haste would gladly oblige.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

7 October 2016, 05:15 AM   #6
Joined: 30 May 2016
Posts: 37
Isabella had heard much about the Haste family from her husband over the years. Victor spoke fondly of the doctor. He spoke of their days at school, the conversations they'd had at events their families attended. All the while Isabella remained silent pretending she did not know the name at all. She shivered as Elliot took her hand. How long had it been since she'd stood in his presence? Eleven, twelve years? In her last year at the asylum after Rachelle died, Eleanor had only been allowed to see Dr. Harland. She grew violent in the presence of anyone else. "Oh, my, I suppose I am." Isabella said faking being timid, something she had grown quite good at. "After all, everyone knows the stories about St. Helga's. Gosts roaming the hallways. Forgive me if I seem a little frightened, I've never even set foot in a facility such as this." She was quite a charming little liar. Her husband liked to joke that Isabella had a silver tongue. Between her sickly sweet smile and the glint in her eye, Isabella could trick anyone into believing her. A skill she had learned from her many years in the hospital, "Yes, I'm afraid, he never seems to cease his praises of you," Isabella said taking her husbands hand. They were an odd pair to say the least. Victor was tall, lanky, and though he remained handsome his age had started to show many years ago. He was dark skinned with brown eyes and brown hair. Isabella was nearly a foot shorter than him and much thinner, with curly blonde hair and sky blue eyes. Even as she approached her thirties, she maintained a youthful look about her, "Or your work here at the asylum." Treatments. The word sent a shiver down Isabella's spine. Yes, she still bore scars from old doctor's treatments. Isabella beamed at the doctor's offer for a private tour. She had no desire to drudge up these old memories however there was a part of her that wondered. Did her old room still bear the markings she had carved into the wall? Where the offices still similar? The catacombs, could they still be accessed? Was the skeleton of dear dead Dr. Palmer still lying down there undiscovered. "Oh, darling, lets! You've been promising me a tour for weeks now!" She turned towards Dr. Haste with a perky smile, "And who better to show us than the head doctor himself."
Isabella Frandsen. Twenty-eight. 
They used to shout my name now they whisper it

Dr. Victor Frandsen. Forty-six. Experimental psychology. 
If I had a heart, I could love you

Violet De'Amastus. Sixteen. Pyromaniac. 
I'm meaner than my demons

7 October 2016, 06:14 AM   #7
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Victor and Elliot gladly caught up, and shared a tad bit of history. He was able to discuss the wedding, the in laws, something of the children, and how they were enjoying the festivities. Grand. Elliot always enjoyed the comfortable talks with a colleague. He didn't have to pretend as much. Ghosts? Ah yes- the Tour was suppose to have some haunted appeal to it too. Some illusive vengeful spirits and all that nonsense. Definitely. It certainly helped to sell tickets for those who were interested in the facility's darker past. But all that would never be shared on the tour. The Priest was quiet clear. 'All this demonic nonsense is past us.' Past. Past. Praises. Elliot humbly thanked the couple again, dismissively saying, "I'm so overjoyed. It's really nothing, if not for the Charity we receive." If not for the late nights. If not for the wine. If not for the breaking of spirits. "It would've been impossible." Curiously, despite the maiden's 'fear', she talked highly of this place. Truly, her nerves were lessened by the idea of experiencing the thrills. She was excited. 'Delightful.' Elliot thought Earnestly. "Fear my girl? Oh, certainly the ghosts have long passed over. Nothing but warm bodies now. I assure you. But, if you'd like to see for yourself.." How could Elliot say no? She was beautiful. "If you have no objections Victor, I can show your wife around as you mingle. I know you've seen and heard the tour all before. It would just be a nuisance for you to hear it all again." Elliot looked from Victor, to his dear wife, "And of course, if you're comfortable being in my company for a short while..."
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

7 October 2016, 06:43 AM   #8
Joined: 30 May 2016
Posts: 37
Isabella stood silently as the two men traded stories. There had been a time when she had promised herself she would never see the inside of this God forsaken place again and yet now here she stood. Isabella traced a finger around the rim of her glass only partially listening as Victor recounted the story of the birth of their eldest son, whom Isabella had given birth to just a few weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday. For reasons Isabella could never understand, Victor made a habit of mentioning her age every time he told the story as if he was proud of the eighteen years that stood between them. The young woman's eyes traveled over to were her children played. Jacob was nearly eleven now and though he bore his father's features there was no denying he was Isabella's son. Dr. Haste's words pull Isabella from her thoughts. Charity. She smirked. Her husband's family had been a long time benefactor to the hospital and as Victor came into his own money the donations only increased. It was no secret that the Frandsen's where one of the wealthiest families in the world and they enjoyed making donations to the hospital every month. The chatter at the party was that the Frandsen's most recent donation had paid for the asylums new library but of course that was only speculation. "Oh, please!" Isabella said taking her husbands hands. He'd never been able to say no to her from the first moment they married, "Go on then, I'll keep an eye on the kids." Victor said placing a kiss on her cheek before walking towards their children. Isabella stepped towards the other man, a coy smile lighting up her pale feature, "Well, Dr. Haste, lead the way!"
Isabella Frandsen. Twenty-eight. 
They used to shout my name now they whisper it

Dr. Victor Frandsen. Forty-six. Experimental psychology. 
If I had a heart, I could love you

Violet De'Amastus. Sixteen. Pyromaniac. 
I'm meaner than my demons

7 October 2016, 07:15 AM   #9
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Children. Haste neglected to smile towards the end. Only a slight wave good bye. The night was still young, infantile even. So why was Haste feeling his age? No- It was most likely, the sight of perfection that made him so tired. Tired. Husband, Wife, and a small litter of kids. What a blessed thing. The Doe eyed maiden- Isabelle- bubbled. Haste smiled at her. And the crook of his arm floated around her. Ah- Much better. "Hm- Where to begin..." The pair began to stroll towards the adjacent doors which led into the candle lit hallways. The dark floors, and tall ceildings made the hallway look infinitely long. The dark wood encased them, and the gothic décor felt like a sanctuary. "It's not too late yet, would you care to see the Peace Garden?" The Roses, the Lilies, the exquisite tulips. Sounded like a good place to start. The sun was setting, because six o'clock in the winter time meant the changing of the seasons. But there was still moments left, the sun still peaked over the Horizon. It would be fun. Isabelle's beautiful Red curves were tempting, Elliot held a comfortable guiding hand around her. Politely, he spoke of the Garden's inception- over a decade ago, and how currently they have over 100 variety of flora. There was several meditation benches made of smooth limestone, and the Garden has grown from 120 yards to almost an acre now. Outside, they walked on a carefully laid stone path. A light arrangement of green foliage outlined the rims of the stones. "The Additional Land has other uses. Currently, the Peace Garden offsets the Clock Tower, and Memorial, and the Storage houses. The Activities allowed here are mostly quiet ones. Hence the name 'peace' garden. There is a small koi pond, and larger quarry towards the back of the lot, with countless fish and seasonal flowers blooming."
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

8 October 2016, 10:01 PM   #10
Joined: 30 May 2016
Posts: 37
Isabella knew how they looked to the outside world. He was wealthy, respected, noble. She was young, educated, beautiful. They'd be married for nearly eleven years which was almost twice as long as either of his previous marriages. They had five healthy children and seemingly lived a perfect serene life. Seemingly. Isabella would never complain about her life with Victor not after the hell she had endured at the asylum but she would admit that sometimes the life bored her. She supposed she loved him on a certain level though it was more like fondness. He was a good man and a good father but at the end of the day he wasn't the man she truly loved. Isabella walked lightly next to the doctor as they stepped into the hallway. Nothing had changed, only everything had changed. The asylum seemed darker now. More grim. Perhaps it was just that now she understood just how many lives had been lost here. "Oh, that sounds lovely." She said. Isabella had not set foot in that garden since her last day in the asylum. She had been standing at the base of the clock tower when the good Dr. Harland came to inform her brother had arrived to take her home. She had dreamt of leaving the asylum but in that moment she begged him to let her stay. With Rachelle gone, who would watch over the girls? They needed someone. Isabella could not bear the thought of leaving them with the doctors but still the nurse dragged her from the gardens and escorted her to her brother. "It's so nice out here." Isabella said as a soft breeze blew, rustling some blonde curls loose from her pins. "And are the patients allowed to come and go as they please?" she asked curiously. When she had been a patient, she was never allowed out of her run unsupervised because she was prone to making escape attempts. "My husband often speaks of a rose garden? Some memorial I believe. He says it's rather beautiful."
Isabella Frandsen. Twenty-eight. 
They used to shout my name now they whisper it

Dr. Victor Frandsen. Forty-six. Experimental psychology. 
If I had a heart, I could love you

Violet De'Amastus. Sixteen. Pyromaniac. 
I'm meaner than my demons

9 October 2016, 01:08 AM   #11
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Last edited by ‹ㅑJïNxㅜㅇNㅕ›, 9 October 2016
"Some of the girls yes." Most no. Most must be under constant supervision, or they'd cut and mingle their organs with the flowers. They were a creative lot of mindless suicide attempts, so frequently in the garden, that it's constantly called a 'grave' even. Or maybe that's just because of a particular suicide which occurred nearby. Mrs. Frandsen began to mention the private statue farther in the back of the property. Strange, when he guided Victor through an extended tour of the property he didn't seem nearly as interested in the Gardens, Memorial, or the large Clock face.. Perhaps, Mrs. Frandsen simply enjoyed the beautiful techniques of landscaping. "Yes, The Memorial is in a closed park, off set from the Clock tower... The Statue is made of entirely white marble. The statue emulates a classical maiden surrounded by her own beauty." Rehearsed line of course. Haste also neglected to mention how it was dedicated to the legion of girls lost and never found. It's eternal spot shall be overlooking the amassed graves and souls. Due to the morbidity of the subject, Haste forbid any set of girls from ever coming near it. To further his enforcement he erected a black metal gate to segregate the property. The Peace Gardens was as far as the girls could travel. And the visitors. No clock tower. No Memorial graves. To painful. The end. "It's certainly beautiful.." Haste commented, his voice trailed off, and his pace slowed. "But I'm afraid it's not apart of the tour."
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

9 October 2016, 01:59 AM   #12
Joined: 30 May 2016
Posts: 37
Isabella knew she had to play her cards right. She had not seen the memorial at all, not since her brother paid to have it and the roses planted. Faking her death had not been an easy choice but it was one that had to be made and if she wanted any hope of a normal life then Eleanor truly had to be gone. But she did want to see it. She wanted to know what her legacy was. Would anyone remember Eleanor Rose or was she just another face in the crowd of girls who'd lost their lives here. "Dr. Haste, I must admit you describe it far better than my husband does." she said her smile still remaining even as he told her it was not part of the tour, "Oh, but you must let me see it!" She hadn't come this far for nothing. She would see the garden one way or another. If the doctor wouldn't take her she'd climb the fence though she really did not care to rip her expensive red dress, "Please, please, please. I have a fondness for roses," she said with a slight shrug as she let her hand brush subtly against his before turning to face him, "You wouldn't deny a lady her simple request now would you, Dr. Haste?"
Isabella Frandsen. Twenty-eight. 
They used to shout my name now they whisper it

Dr. Victor Frandsen. Forty-six. Experimental psychology. 
If I had a heart, I could love you

Violet De'Amastus. Sixteen. Pyromaniac. 
I'm meaner than my demons

9 October 2016, 02:27 AM   #13
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Last edited by ‹ㅑJïNxㅜㅇNㅕ›, 9 October 2016
Reason would care to argue that of course Haste described it better than Victor, Victor's never actually seen the statue, He's only been told of it. Haste found no reason to bother the staff with going through the brush and foliage to see a collection of corpses with a pretty sculpture in the mist of some roses. The donor for the project was a patience's near kin. From what Haste could remember, after the rubble cleared, the donor left no indication to make it a public lot. So Haste left it a private sanctuary. Same with the Clock Tower. Let the dead stay dead, shall we? Apparently, not in Mrs. Frandsen's opinion. Wake the dead, rally the spirits, deface the skeletons. What an odd women... Haste smiled, he was in no position to deny her fancy, "Did I arouse your hidden desire for necrophilia, my dear?" Very well. Haste took her hand in his and kissed it once more. With his other hand, he pulled a ringlet of brass keys from his inside pocket. He promptly showed the way. *** There was a covering of thin brush and cobwebs over the gate. The greenery looked happily undisturbed, until his key pressed inside the lock, and the vines shriveled back. The gate opened, and the hard metal clanked together. The sun's impression dwindled, and the crickets began their loyal songs to the night. Haste was convinced that, there was no better night then tonight to vex the dead. After all, he did wish to see her.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

9 October 2016, 03:34 AM   #14
Joined: 30 May 2016
Posts: 37
"Hardly, Dr. Haste." Isabella said faking a blush as the word necrophilia actually fell from the doctor's lips. Things like that where not spoken of in high society, most women would faint at the mere sight of a corpse let alone bear the thought of intercourse with one, "You'll have to forgive me," she said brushing back a loose blonde curly, "I have a natural curiosity about life's unnatural things." She spoke so eloquently, the sign of an educated woman, "I suppose not everyone shares my interest in the macabre." she said politely as he removed the keys from his pocket, "Besides it's only a memorial. You said yourself. The ghosts have long passed over." Isabella moved in front of Dr. Haste as they passed through the black gate, the side of her body briefly touching his, "I have many hidden desires, Dr. Haste, but I assure you necrophilia is not among them." Isabella's eyes flicked among the many flowers that were encompassed within the garden, "Why roses?" Isabella asked as she let her hand drift down to touch the petals almost as red as her satin dress, "My mother always said lillies where the flower of the dead. Roses are for young lovers and old couples, she said. Yet here you have a garden full of roses dedicated to the dead."
Isabella Frandsen. Twenty-eight. 
They used to shout my name now they whisper it

Dr. Victor Frandsen. Forty-six. Experimental psychology. 
If I had a heart, I could love you

Violet De'Amastus. Sixteen. Pyromaniac. 
I'm meaner than my demons

9 October 2016, 04:39 AM    #15
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Last edited by ‹ㅑJïNxㅜㅇNㅕ›, 9 October 2016
The maiden explained herself, but Haste held nothing against it. Of course, it was partly the fact his head swam with a small puddle of wine near the front. Another part was due to the fact, he was curious as well. A certain corpse always called his name from a patch of moss right under the clock tower. T'was fairly loud, especially on nights like these. The moon was full and Beautiful. An off white against the contrasting tar blanketed skies. His attention was thrusted into something entirely unnatural, 'I have many hidden desires, Dr. Haste, but I assure you necrophilia is not among them.' Show me. Isabella, didn't hesitate to leave an impression on his skin. Vixen. He followed, closing the gate behind them, not even looking back. To hell with Victor. "Symbolic, I suppose." Haste began, standing beside her, aloof of the statue towering above them. The beautiful mix of moonlight and roses made this place seem... ephemeral. "The donor requested it." the doctor confessed plainly. Haste decided to end the quandary there. No need to go into specifics. Haste wasn't about to spoil the evening with the sad tale of a dead girl. It was in bad taste. "Tired my dear?" Haste led his company over to a cement bench.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

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