Post by aíne donoghue on Apr 17, 2009 4:47:03 GMT -5
aíne aileen donoghue
(ON-ya)
(ON-ya)
[/b][/color][/size] A Mrs. Aíne Donoghue at the dear age of twenty-four has found herself upon the most curious of situations - entering into London's most tantilizing gossip. "[/i][/color][/font][/size][/ul][/blockquote]
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W R I T E R .
name: brianna
RP experience: too long to admit
how did you find us?: sherlock holmes
age: 20
gender: ladyyy
P O R T R A I T .
eye color: blue
hair color: auburn
height: 5’ 7”
body type: slender
distinguishing features: freckles
fashion style:
M A N N E R S .
profession: seamstress
adoration for:
distaste for:
dreams:
fears:
secrets:
main:
P A S T .
family:
main:
They were married the next month, the ceremony plain but the entire town had turned out to take a turn with the lovely Aíne Conneely – now Mrs. Aíne Donoghue. The drinking and dancing had lasted well into the night and into the gray dim of early morning. When the two of them finally fell asleep, lying side by side in bed, Aíne knew she would forever be happy. There would never be anyone else for her but Danny.
Another month later, the two of them set off on their dreams of making a better life for themselves. As one of the saddest moments in Aíne’s life, she said goodbye to her mother, father and five other brothers and sisters. Aíne and Danny were off to London, with the money they had saved during their entire lives as well as money from the wedding. Their families barely had enough money to feed themselves each week, there would be nothing for them to come and visit Aíne and Danny – this would be the last time they would see each other in their lives. Aíne tried not to think of that as she hugged them, though the tears stumbled mercilessly down her lightly freckled cheeks. But Danny’s comforting arms and soft voice soothed the longing pains that stabbed at her heart until they were nothing more than a sigh. They boarded the ship at last and said one final farewell to the emerald fields of Ireland. Neither of them has been back since.
London – a loud, grimy city with strange streets and unknown faces. Aíne hated it instantly, but Danny reassured her that things would get better. She said nothing to him but crossed her arms stubbornly and refused to speak while they went in search of a place to stay. After several days of looking, and staying in an awful inn, they found a modest but clean flat in lower London. And what with Danny’s good looks, and his easy charm, they got the landlady to lower the price to something reasonable. They moved in immediately and begun their new lives. Aíne found a job working for a seamstress, mending tears and hemming pants. What she really wanted to do was open up her own dress and fabric shop – she would sell the prettiest fabrics in all of London! All the ladies and duchesses would come to her for their new ball gowns. That was her dream at least, owning her own shop, with her and Danny living in a flat above. Danny’s dream was of owning a clock repair shop - he always had loved tinkering around with them. He had joined the militia quickly after coming to London – it was a respectful job, and the money they would receive after his duty would be enough to open up a dress and clock repair shop. Their idea was while the women shopped for dainty fabrics, the men could go next door and smoke some of the finest cigars London offered while looking at a new pocket watch for themselves designed by Danny Donoghue. It was this image that kept them going each day, and the love that embodied both of them.
When times got rough, or the soot of London began to cloud Aíne’s dream, Danny was always there for her. Always an optimist, he’d give her one of his smiles and brush his fingers against her cheek as he whispered, “Look up m’dear girl.” Quick to pick a fight, or become frustrated, Aíne needed Danny’s calm spirit to console her own. And Danny couldn’t get enough of his fiery lass, her energy and determination never made him doubt for one moment that she was the one for him. Danny stayed in London for the most part, except for some odd trip north or on the rarest of occasions, to France or another northern European country. He was always near, always close to Aíne.
A year passed steadily by them, each saving their money in an old tea tin - waiting until the moment they would be able to fulfill their hopes and dreams. Late in August, Aíne became pregnant but by mid-December she had lost it. Although the baby had only been a couple weeks old, it still devastated Aíne. For most of December she kept to the house, beside the hours she worked, and stared blankly out the window. She would have been lost forever had it not been for Danny. He got her tea, forced her to eat, and stayed with her although she found she could only sit there in his embrace. It wasn’t until around Christmas did the ache dull and finally vanish altogether - with Danny always by her side. For Christmas that year, he gave her several yards of fine Irish lace. “For the dress ye’ll be wearin’ the day we open our shop,” he told her. However, the lace still lies neatly folded in their closet, untouched. She takes it out sometimes, just to feel the way the lace brushes against her skin and for the memory of that Christmas and of Danny.
In May the following year, Danny was promoted to both his and Aíne’s joy. However, with the new promotion, he was immediately sent on a tour of duty to India. He would be gone for five months – a lifetime to Aíne. She can still remember the day she said goodbye – the salty brine of the sea air, the distant caw of seagulls overhead, Danny’s warm body pressed against hers. A cold breeze had picked up from the ocean, dispelling the grimy city stench for this one brief moment. The wind fluttered along her dress, and loosened stray pieces of her dark auburn hair as she refused to let go of Danny’s embrace. He whispered to her and she fell against his shoulder at his words. Tucking the crook of his finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face to his. Gazing into his familiar brown eyes she understood that his words were a promise to her. Nevertheless, tears began streaming down her face in gentle strokes. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead and at last her lips. A final whistle blew from the ship and with one last, longing look he gazed into her eyes. They did not need to speak any farewell, their goodbyes hung heavy in the air around them. He turned and left, his fingers the last thing Aíne held as they loosened from their clasp. She wrapped her thin arms around herself as she watched his figure retreat and disappear into the fog.
Months passed and Aíne kept to her sewing and daily life. She received a letter from Danny every couple of weeks, telling her of the extraordinary sights and people he encountered on his journey. She would read them countless times over, hugging it to her as if it were Danny himself. She was desperately lonely during this time, though she found solace in thinking of the moment when Danny would be back. As the summer dwindled to an end, so did the letters Aíne received. She figured he was simply busy with his orders, as well as the delay in post with the vast distance between them. It wasn’t until she received a letter in September did she finally find out the reason. Danny had contracted a serious fever that had left him bedridden for weeks. The letter was written very matter-of-factly by a commanding officer, who wrote that they would be on the move shortly, back to England and believed that the fever would not worsen. She prayed that he was right.
Because of the delays in post, the militia returned to London a mere two weeks later. Aíne stood waiting expectantly at the docks, wearing the dress she wore when Danny proposed to her, her cheeks bright and eyes hopeful for a pair of warm brown eyes. They had not lost many men on their expedition, though it had still been a rough journey through the unknown jungles of far away India. She could see it in their faces, their haggard looks, and darkened eyes. When some of the men connected their gazes with hers, a strange emotion played across their expressions. She didn’t have much time to think on it, for out of the corner of her eye she saw a man being carried out of the ship on a wooden stretcher. Several other men were gathered around as they carried this man down the plank and onto the docks. She pitied this injured man, obviously well-loved by the other militia. She wondered briefly over his well-being, his family – where were they, they should be here waiting for him. And then it had suddenly become all too obvious.
They paused in their walk when Aíne neared them. They knew who she was just as much as she knew who the man was they carried. She was silent, and the world rested still in respect. She approached slowly, her steps heavy and measured as a thickness knotted in her throat. She reached out her hand, her fingers quivering in the air. She hovered above his skin, pallid and beaded with sweat, his emaciated body trembling beneath the thin wool blanket that covered him. A quiet moan fled from his lips as he turned - her hand flew to her mouth in the anguish that tore.
Her Danny – lying soaked in his own sweat amidst the delirium of his fever. His soft cheeks had been hallowed out to sharp angles, his wavy dark hair plastered against his brow in wet streaks, and his creamy complexion sallow. She drew her hand close again, and at last, pressed her cool palm against his hot skin. He jerked in response but calmed, his chest heaving as he sought to breathe. As she placed her other hand against his face, a tear slipped down the smooth curve of her cheek. But she quickly rubbed it away and followed the men to the hospital. She spent all their tea tin savings for his care at the hosptial. Upon returning home that night, in the solemn embrace of the darkness, she sobbed against her sheets until only her chest shuddered when there were no tears left to spill.
In the weeks following, he eventually came out of his fever. Only to reveal how much the fever had damaged his mind. He no longer acknowledged the world around him, nor her presence. He did not recognize her once he finally opened his eyes, but simply stared from her to a nondescript corner of the room. It has been three years since the day he returned, lost to her. He seems to recognize at least that Aíne is important to him, but he spends most of his time staring out the window to the boats that travel the Thames. He calls to them sometimes when he thinks he knows the captain. He stays there until Aíne takes him to his separate bed – a necessary change due to his loss of control. He remains relatively calm, though there are times when he throws things about in a tantrum, or completely draws into himself and doesn’t even bother to look out the window. However, sometimes when Aíne will start humming a little Irish ditty, he’ll hum half heartedly along with her. It is those moments that give her both comfort and anguish.
She lives each day the same as the day before. She quit her job at the seamstress shop, so as to be with Danny. Though, she does have a few clients who drop off their garments to her home for her to mend. It’s not much, but just enough to live by. She rents out their loft that once was hers and Danny’s workspace, to gain a few extra pounds. Her love for Danny has been unfailing and irrevocable since the day she told him so. There is a profound longing that has settled deep within her – a immense want to be loved by someone. She tends to Danny day in and out, keeping fast to her unfailing hope that he will somehow become better. She will never forget the words he spoke to her that day on the docks, his promise -
“I’ll come back to you.”
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E T C .
play-by: mini anden
password:
rp sample:
why, ‘ello[/blockquote][/size]