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TennTenshie
Star
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2011
They played, and danced in the courtyard, All of Them holding hands, All of them sick. “Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posie, ashes ashes we all fall down!” they fell down laughing. Well, almost all of them fell down laughing, one of them fell coughing, The sickest of the three, and mom, though already showing signs herself, came and picked up the little boy, as he coughed and she headed in, knowing the painful truth that the older siblings didn’t quite grasp. The oldest having already succumbed. And she cared Little Jeffrey away. The two little ones looked at each other, and though they two where sick, and not allowed to go outside, they stood and began to play again.
They continued to play for weeks, until Rosalyn was taken away, and then little Deborah succumbed. Their mother ultimately buried them all, her husband dead and her servants sworn to secrecy, then again many of them where dead as well, Mother barely Survived. Probably because the little ghosts, the little children who’d loved her so much, protected her from the death so many suffered. She’d go on to remarry, and have more children, but she wouldn’t stay in the house, the house… would move away, and the children, all four of them would watch over the home. It stayed in the woman’s family, as she’d owned it. She passed it down to her son, who passed it down to his Son, who passed it down to his daughter, who passed it down to her’s and then again to her’s. Until she died, without someone to give it to, the house maintained somehow, fell into the realtors hand.
Sir Mosley was tired of having this house in his hands. He was extatic that this family wanted it. A couple Antique dealers, where willing to take it, pay pennies on the dollar for it, but take it! And everything inside. HE was showing them the fourth of a good 8 bedrooms at the moment, Talking about all the ‘original’ fixtures and bedding.
She hang off the realtor’s leg. Deborah turned her head towards the couple and their son. “Why do they want our house?” She asked Rosalyn who was seated on her bed, the young teenaged woman looked up. Her hair waved lazily in a nonexistent air around the room.
“Probably because it’s available to be sold.” She told her little sister as she tried to pick up The English Man’s hat.
“He looks like Father.” She said absently.
She smiled a little watching the little girl. “Yes, well Uncle survived.” She said softly.
Jeffrey looked over, Sitting in the window, five year old little Jeffrey, the weakest child Beyond Christon, who’d died first, puffed out his cheeks. “They can’t have our home!” He stated petulantly.
Mr. Mosley looked at them, as he lead them through to the 'formal' dining room. "And this, my good friends is the Formal Dining room, this is where parties would have been held, and dinners for guests would have been made, the long table here has stood here since the Watchour's lived here. Its still in great condition. Many of the buildings features and furniture, once again is from the first family the house was passed down through the generations and maintained, though I'm told not lived in, none of the people who inherited it could get past the suspicions that lived with it. Madison Watchour survived and remarried, and kept the house after the plague finally stopped, and she had three more children before she finally stopped... She passed the house down to her oldest son, Christon Billings, and he passed it down, and it just stayed in the family." He trailed off wondering if they wanted to see the rest of it.
"Can I show you the upper floor?"
They continued to play for weeks, until Rosalyn was taken away, and then little Deborah succumbed. Their mother ultimately buried them all, her husband dead and her servants sworn to secrecy, then again many of them where dead as well, Mother barely Survived. Probably because the little ghosts, the little children who’d loved her so much, protected her from the death so many suffered. She’d go on to remarry, and have more children, but she wouldn’t stay in the house, the house… would move away, and the children, all four of them would watch over the home. It stayed in the woman’s family, as she’d owned it. She passed it down to her son, who passed it down to his Son, who passed it down to his daughter, who passed it down to her’s and then again to her’s. Until she died, without someone to give it to, the house maintained somehow, fell into the realtors hand.
Sir Mosley was tired of having this house in his hands. He was extatic that this family wanted it. A couple Antique dealers, where willing to take it, pay pennies on the dollar for it, but take it! And everything inside. HE was showing them the fourth of a good 8 bedrooms at the moment, Talking about all the ‘original’ fixtures and bedding.
She hang off the realtor’s leg. Deborah turned her head towards the couple and their son. “Why do they want our house?” She asked Rosalyn who was seated on her bed, the young teenaged woman looked up. Her hair waved lazily in a nonexistent air around the room.
“Probably because it’s available to be sold.” She told her little sister as she tried to pick up The English Man’s hat.
“He looks like Father.” She said absently.
She smiled a little watching the little girl. “Yes, well Uncle survived.” She said softly.
Jeffrey looked over, Sitting in the window, five year old little Jeffrey, the weakest child Beyond Christon, who’d died first, puffed out his cheeks. “They can’t have our home!” He stated petulantly.
Mr. Mosley looked at them, as he lead them through to the 'formal' dining room. "And this, my good friends is the Formal Dining room, this is where parties would have been held, and dinners for guests would have been made, the long table here has stood here since the Watchour's lived here. Its still in great condition. Many of the buildings features and furniture, once again is from the first family the house was passed down through the generations and maintained, though I'm told not lived in, none of the people who inherited it could get past the suspicions that lived with it. Madison Watchour survived and remarried, and kept the house after the plague finally stopped, and she had three more children before she finally stopped... She passed the house down to her oldest son, Christon Billings, and he passed it down, and it just stayed in the family." He trailed off wondering if they wanted to see the rest of it.
"Can I show you the upper floor?"
