Lechance

[OOC notes: Players, please check ooc post here for more information. The ooc post will be updated as the thread progresses.]

They'd met in the Town Square shortly after 1.30pm.

When it was clear that every one was there, Jonas swung up onto his borrowed mount, called Digger near, and addressed the assembled folk from horseback.

"First off, may I jus' take the opportunity to tell you how grateful this town, and indeed myself and my team are for all your valuable help and support over this last while. Hopefully now we're actually getting somewhere, but I won't lie to you, this situation is still potentially very dangerous. And so I must urge you to practice extreme caution at every turn. Your safety is paramount above and beyond anything we may find. Stick together, no wanderin' off the path. Buddy up whenever you can, even if nature calls, beggin' your pardon. Deputy Charles has your names duly noted, and we'll be checking on folks along the way. Please be aware of everything around you. If you see something out of place, unusual tracks, items, sights, sounds, hell, even smells, please bring them to the attention of either myself, or Deputies Coleman or Charles."

He waited until he was sure everyone had absorbed the information so far before continuing. "Right, we're going to head up to the trail the patrol took and past their shelter from the other night, and up on up to the fissure to the co-ordinates that Sheriff Bowbuck left behind him when he left. If we encounter any strange weather on the way, everyone is to head for that shelter, is that understood?" 

The assembled patrol murmured their agreement. "Good, good. Right. I'll head up the column for now." He looked to his deputies. "Leo, can you take the back of the line, and Andrew, if you could ride out alongside as spotter? We'll be stopping for breaks along the way so that I can check on progress and where everyone is up to. First of these I suggest'll be just up from the shelter. There's a bit of a flat area just up beyond it. We'll stop there."

He looked around the folk gathered, "And I just pray that the good Lord'll be shinin' on us, and we'll find somethin' useful. Everyone got watches to hand?" He took his out of his waistcoat pocket, and checked it against the town clock. "Happen it's now 2pm. Worse comes to worse an' we get separated, everyone's to report back here afore 4.30pm. Any questions?" he finished, looking around. "Speak up now if so." 

His eyes scanned over those assembled to look for any hands, or people shouting out with questions.

Mid morning, and Jonas was doing a walk around town, with Digger in tow. The weather was pleasant, and problems were being shared and organised, lightening Jonas' workload and stress. Both were in playful mood, each wrestling either end of a branch. It wasn't clear who was winning just yet, but when Jonas nearly tripped into the path of someone coming their way, Digger definitely counted it as a win, yapping loudly.

"Humble apologies," Jonas half-laughed, as he tried to keep his hat on his head. "High spirits."

Patrick turned up at the Beloveds' hotel with an armful of lilies (arranged in a long boquet and adorned with a huge white bow) and the bookish Mr Wilkins in tow as chaperone.

He was looking a lot smarter than he had when he'd bumped into Amy on the street in his work clothes. He'd made enough money now, with the incredible wealth of early-blooming flowers in LeChance, to buy a new suit, in pale ochre, and his cravat and the handkerchief in his pocket were a dull green. The colours of the earth. They suited him, and he knew it.

He sent up his card to Amy and waited in the parlour he was shown into, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He'd liked Amy - a little timid, maybe, but surely a man could coax her into a little more courage if he tried? He was, he had to admit, excited and looking forward to this.

The announcement about the meeting had been cried every day for the past week; every citizen had been strongly encouraged to attend.

Since it had the possibility of running for a long time -- and to give it the appropriate sense of seriousness -- the meeting was held in the cathedral, one of the only places in LeChance that could seat most of the town. Leroy stood behind the lectern, quietly talking to Ms. Sheedy as the crowd gathered. He looked tired but determined.

He invited Jonas and his staff to sit at the front of the space with him, giving them a brief rundown of what he planned and giving them a chance to voice objections or suggestions before the idea was placed before the town. Others at the front of the hall included Father Marks, the judge, council members, a historian and the principal of the schools.

Finally, on the hour, Anastacia Mason, the town crier, stepped forward and called for all to be seated and settled. She read a few commonplace announcements before introducing Leroy and moving unobtrusively to the side.

Leroy stepped up, hands behind his back and took a breath as he ordered his thoughts.

( My fellow citizens... )

Amy was hoping the new year would bring more luck to her than the last but, despite the lingering thought that it was another year gone, another year without getting matched, she was hopeful. She was out enjoying the weather, walking along the street and looking at the displays still lingering in the window when she almost bumped into someone and had to step aside quickly to avoid them - and step again to avoid walking into her escort.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," she said, blushing bright.

The main gathering hall had been decorated with swags of greens and candles, lending a soft, romantic glow to the space. Tables were scattered throughout the hall and along one side there was an elborate buffett spread. Musicians had set up unobstrusively next to the large space left open for dancing.

In one corner there was a large evergreen tree decorated with more candles, preserved flowers and fruits, strings of cranberries, small paper doilies, and ribbons and tied to tree branches. But the center of attraction was the yule log burning in the huge fireplace at the end of the hall.

Before the festivities began, Leroy made a short speech thanking the residents of LeChance for the hard work over many months, congratulating the newly married and affianced, wishing everyone happy holidays and set the party in motion.

Leo had finally bought herself a horse at the last livestock auction. Of course, she still had to buy all the things that went along with a horse, but for now, that didn't matter. She rode along the beach without a saddle or bridle, letting the mare find her own pace.

When she saw someone approaching from the opposite direction, she tugged lightly on the mare's mane and halted her.

"Evenin'," she called out.

Late in the afternoon, a small crowd gathered in a field to participate in the gathering of the final harvest of the season. They loaded it into a decorated horse-drawn wagon and followed it into town, singing songs and waving sheafs of hay.

More people followed along as the parade passed them by, leading them into the square that normally held the merchants but had been cleared earlier for the celebration. There were still a few booths set up but they'd been converted to homes for games. The growing crowd was invited to march to the cathedral for a short service or to stay at the square to help set up for a feast.

Lanterns were lit all around the buildings and the square, casting a warm glow. There was just the slightest nip in the air but that would be dispelled when the dancing started later. Enormous amounts of food were heaped on a banquet table and long tables were set with glittering china and strewn with bouquets of late-blooming flowers.

( Letters to Ascendants )

( Beloved )

Friday morning - not too early, to give Delilah a chance to settle in for the day, but not late because he didn't want to waste time when he could be doing something with the promise of money at the end of it - Patrick strolled down Main Street, paused a moment to survey the front of Delilah's premises, then stepped up to the door and rapped smartly.

He was smiling. He had to confess to himself, he'd been very much looking forward to seeing Delilah again, and it wasn't just because of the offer of a job.

Patrick was wandering along the beach in a rare moment off between odd jobs. It was too cold for paddling, but he had his shoes and stockings off and dangling from one hand and was enjoying the feel of the sand between his toes and the warmth of the weak autumn sun on his skin.

When he saw someone approaching, he waved and called out, "Good day to ye! I don't suppose ye know anything about fishing, do ye?"

Well, pretty much not working. He'd just thought of another way to earn money.

Sunday morning.

It had once been a time that Paul would never have thought twice about. Sunday morning was to rouse the children, bathe them, dress them, and make certain that everyone had broken their fast before walking to church.

He no longer attended church, and the children were...gone. His Sunday morning was free and empty.

To put the time to profitable use, he intended to explore. His route took him through the center of the town, near to the cathedral, but not into the grounds. It did mean that he encountered the sudden flow of people leaving after the service, and after a few minutes of slightly awkward moving to one side, and then the other, and then back again, stepped back to the roadside of the sidewalk to allow the stranger to pass, raising his hat politely. "My apologies."

Three o'clock Saturday afternoon saw Patrick making his first call to the Beloveds' hotel, his arm tucked around a rather extravagent bouquet of California fuschia intermixed with wild grasses for bulk. It might be a little over the top he realised, as he waited in the parlour he'd been shown into for Michael to appear, but it was too late now. He'd wanted to impress. Especially as his one suit was old and worn and not really up to the job of impressing anyone at all.

He was clean and as smart as he could be, though, unruly hair combed and slicked back as much as possible. And he had his smile to rely on. He always had his smile.

It wasn't actually so much a calling card as a sheet of white paper culled from the supply in the parlour of the Ascendants' hotel. Patrick hadn't had any money left for such frivolous things as calling cards. And if he was honest, he hadn't expected to be courting anywhere near this soon.

The writing on the letter was a neat script, unfussy and easy to read.

Dear Mr Rickard,

I would be honoured if you would accept my visit this coming Saturday afternoon. Would three o'clock be a good time for you?

Yours sincerely,

Patrick O'Sullivan

( Letters to Ascendants )

( Beloved )

Patrick got off the train, managed to charm the loan of a trolley from the porter, and hauled his belongings along to the Ascendants' hotel. Not that it was so much belongings as seeds and seedlings and things to start a crop with. His actual belongings – a couple of changes of clothes, a few personal things – fitted in one small bag.

He secured a room at the hotel and space in the outhouses for his crops, then returned the trolley to the station.

Then, chores accomplished, he set off back into the town to seek a drink and company for the evening. When he saw someone else in the street, he waved to them and called cheerfully, "Good evening to ye! Could ye perhaps be directing me towards a decent drinking establishment?"