charitylovehopefaith | The Fifth

The Fifth - [ written ]

July the first,

It has been suggested to me that I might find myself happier here if I were to engage in further enterprise than I have so far made it my business to do. [Which... She'll grant the wisdom in the suggestion at this point. She has no house to run, and keeping the rooms tidy and her and her brother fed keep her busy but not interested.] I have an arrangement with one individual here [she's trying to be very formal, so she shies away from mentioning Richard by name] regarding sewing and repairing articles of clothing in exchange for what he can part with. [Or the promise of future goods.] Firewood and produce, mostly. I should be happy to extend my offer to others for similar terms.

If this service is unnecessary, I apologise for having troubled the good people of Luceti with this.

I thank you all for your time,
Faith Long

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A little stitch work would go a long way. Slits in the back of a shirt are a little tacky, don't you think? As if the wings weren't bad enough.

[It was a common look around Luceti. But certainly he might strike a better image if the backs of his shirts didn't look so sloppily cut open.]

They'll also fray slower if they'e properly stitched up. I'd be happy to do that, certainly.

A home made meal sounds even better. Especially if we get to spend it together.

[Faith has to remind herself that people here are quite a bit more... relaxed... with their associations. It isn't (to them) strange for a gentleman and a lady to eat alone.

Even if it still seems far too intimate for her. She is trying to adapt herself.]

I could cook for you, certainly. Perhaps a meal or two and a few shirts stitched up might be sufficient for an easel? I was fortunate enough to find one in the shops after I arrived, but I should like another.

[And, well, in her mind... if he can build a house, he can manage the carpentry to make an easel.]

[It could be said that Jack was in fact the originator of the term 'Jack of all Trades'. Certainly he had lived so long that he'd tried his hand at nearly everything, but rarely mastered anything (apart from the art of love making, movie making, and sometimes money making). It had been awhile since he tried to really build anything and he'd never made an easel.

But he was Jack Horner. He figured that this should be easy for him.]

You're an artist? That sounds like a fair trade. It shouldn't take me long at all.

Oh, I wouldn't call myself that at all, sir. I merely dabble in drawing and painting. Nothing that can really be called art.

If you'd like, I can see to picking up some of the shirts you'd like stitching on so I can work on those.

It's more than what most do. Have you sent any off to the Art Gallery?

I'll put some together for you. [Time for his ace in the hole:] I'd have to see to Clementine, first.

Oh, certainly not. They're not very good, certainly not for a gallery.

[And, well. Because the note does deserve attention:] Who's Clementine?

The same could be said for the ones already there.

Clementine's my kid. Not my kid, that is. I found the girl here and took it upon myself to take care of her. [This is important to always mention. Whilst Effie may find this detracts from him, Jack figures this woman to be a more traditional maternal type. No doubt she'll be impressed by his paternal instincts.]

Oh, how very kind of you. I'm sure she's very grateful. How old is she?

[Jack froze because frankly he had no idea. Children were hard, especially for an immortal with so little experience with them. One tends to forget how quickly kids age.

So he hazarded a guess:]

Seven.

I'm glad she has someone to look after her.

Someone had to do it. I'm just glad I was able to keep her from being found by someone who might mistreat her.

That is certainly a relief, sir. It wouldn't do to have a child mistreated at all, much less in a place such as this.

You are too right. So, Faith, when's a good time for you?

Perhaps we could arrange a time tomorrow? [Her afternoon has just been claimed, and it's not something she minds at all.]

Tomorrow sounds fantastic. Should I be at your place?

[She has to remind herself, as she often does, that people here are very casual with one another.]

I'm in Community House Four, on the first floor. I'll meet you in the common area for the floor, perhaps?

[Ah. The common area. Out in the open. Well, he'd make do.]

Building Four. I'll see you then.

I look forward to it, sir.

And thus tomorrow, one Jack Horner did arrive most punctually at the designated dining room of choice. He looked exceptionally good in his slacks, button-up shirt, and blazer. Though a tie had been sorely tempting, he ultimately chose not to wear one. It was important to look good, but not to go overly formal. This was just a dinner date, not a prom night hookup. Fortunately, it didn't matter what he wore, because his innate Jack-ness meant he looked absolutely fantastic in it. The kitchen seemed to sparkle less around him in a way that seemed to suggest that they felt rather ashamed for being in the presence of someone so much better and it would be better to not be noticed.

Edited 2013-07-11 00:31 (UTC)

Preparing dinner for someone else (especially when the dinner was payment for a future endeavour) was, to say the least, difficult without domestic help. Which was why Faith, busy at the stove she'd had to be taught to use some time ago, did not immediately notice her company. She was dressed fashionably (for her era) but with the utmost modesty and lack of presumption. Where Jack saw this as a dinner date, she saw it as a sort of professional meeting.

The table was set for two, but it might have seemed laid for eight. A vegetable soup was already on the table, covered with a clean cloth in an effort to try and keep it warm. Inside the oven, which she was just turning to a very low temperature to keep the meat warm without burning anything, was not only a dressed lamb dish but two "Cornish hens" that had to take the place of pheasant, as she had none at present. Breads and jellies were on the table, and there was a pot of tea.

When she finally turned away from her work at the oven, she saw the man standing there and offered a smile.

"Mr Horner?"

Jack had lived through the very same era Faith had and although he did enjoy it at the time, he never once missed the fashion and style of it. For instance, he would have much preferred to find his 'date' in a classy tight black dress. Not the complicated mess of clothing he found her in. But he reminded himself that she was still very attractive and that he was Jack Horner. Before long, she would adore him. And after that...

"In the flesh. And you must be Faith. I've got to say, the journals don't do you justice."

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