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Walking The Dog; Andrew
Topic Started: Nov 18 2011, 02:46 PM (403 Views)
Jerome Dudley
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Apart from a little while to get changed into warmer garments and to find a pair of fun lined boots which reached his knees (since his original pair were still missing a half), Jerome had not left the company of his brother since waking up very late indeed. His head was pounding, he felt queasy and he was a bit irritated at the loss of an expensive boot. It was not like he had as many clothes as he would like. Allowances had to be maintained, and he had other things to think about spending money on. Jerome was unsure when he would be able to replace the pair, though, and it was not especially a gratifying position to be in having just 3 or 4 pairs when he used to have 5. So he was not in the best of spirits, and the fact he could feel the day’s exertions very prominently from the one before did not help them much either.

Yet he was enjoying himself with his brother. That was the only positive he could think of, even if he would have preferred the dog not being there. Jerome was no animal lover. He was cautious about them – and despite being a generally genial and gentle person, he did not like the fact that they could be prone to viciousness if they took a dislike to someone. The pet was only a puppy though, and he did not feel frightened of it. Not yet anyway. Perhaps when it was bigger, and by that he meant when its teeth were bigger, he would be reluctant to be in the presence of it and would avoid it wherever possible. It did not help either that he thought dogs were dirty things who only enjoyed getting dirtier, and then spreading that filth onto everyone else.

But he was not left long to worry about his boot, or his head. The two brothers went on a walk very quickly after they had arisen, with the dog, and Jerome at least felt that his head would be the better for it. Outside, the grounds were bleak. It had been snowing overnight by the looks of things and the sky looked as if there was more where that came from. The snow on the ground was thick underfoot, and he found himself submerged to the ankle most of the time. However, despite all that, he was proved right in his assumption that the cold air would be better for his head than remaining inside at a hot fire. It was just the refreshing sort of day he needed.

Trailing behind for a little while to think, he quickly caught up with his older brother with something he had a mind to say. “Last night... When I was talking about Scotland and my finger, you won’t repeat that to anyone will you? Especially not John. I’ve always made it out to him, I think, that I found myself very noble and very brave in both going and acting in Scotland. Whilst I don’t know if he believes me, I certainly don’t want you confirming any suspicions he might or might not have” he said, a tad embarrassed. The evening was a complete blur – he would not be able to say one person who had been where he was when he got drunk and lost his shoe. But for the most part he could remember the conversation he had with Andrew. “Though it was all pretty clear I didn’t get on too well – nobody else returned bald I imagine.”

There was no point in just talking about himself though, and he did not like to be so arrogant as to think he was the most interesting (even if that was his genuine belief). “You really like that dog, don’t you?”
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Andrew Dudley
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Andrew didn’t mind that they had slept much of the day, it was almost like old times, save for the fact that Andrew used to be drunk along with his brother. Now just like his position as the middle brother, he was a little like the both of his brothers. He was finally becoming the gentleman he should have been along, but also with Jerome’s influence he still knew how to have fun.

Andrew had risen earlier than his brother had, for he at least was left without a headache. He dressed and left for a moment if only to find food for their breakfast, he at least hoped it would help Jerry feel better after the night he had. Normally, Andrew was unaccustomed to the big brother role; he always saw him and Jerome as twins for they were closer in age than either of them was with their older brother John. But now Andrew was starting to take responsibility onto himself, he decided that it would help John if Andrew began to play the role of big brother to Jerome too. Andrew at least could stop Jerome from making the same mistakes Andrew had done, but he doubted Jerome could be as stupid as he was in going all the way to impregnate a Princess. He though was just glad that they could all be friends again, so when Elroy that overgrown Irish Wolfhound pup insisted on a walk, Andrew thought a walk would be a good way to spend time with his brother, rather than being cooped up inside.

Andrew even went out of his way to lend his brother some new boots and warmer clothes if he needed it; they were relatively the same size after all, which was a benefit. John though sometimes looked like bear compared to his younger brothers, especially wrapped in furs and warmer attire for winter! The image made Andrew chuckle. He was so distracted by the thought that he hadn’t realised Jerome had trailed behind and almost missed the words coming from his pretty mouth. With Elroy in his sights making use of the space available to him, Andrew was confident that the pup wouldn’t wander too far, but wouldn’t bother the brothers too much. And he grinned at Jerome’s words and clapped him on his back, before wrapping an arm around his little brother’s shoulders in a sort of hug. “Don’t worry Jerry, I shall keep your dirty little secret! You’ll only be a whiner in my eyes.”

He chuckled again at the mention of Jerome’s return with much of his precious locks chopped off. Andrew had been the one to help him hide it from their mother; well that was once he had managed to stop laughing his head off. “No, I dare say only you accomplished that feat, but don’t worry brother at least you went to war. If I wasn’t so pissed off with John then, I would have gone with you and protected from the sheers!” Perhaps, he would have yes, but Andrew might have been the one to encourage such a trick to be played on his vain brother!

When the question came up about his four-legged friend, Andrew’s arm slipped from his brother’s shoulders and he shrugged. “He is starting to grow on me, yes. Did I tell you when he ran through court and I ended up having to chase him in the Chapel? John would be glad to know that the little devil is giving me as much strife as we usually give him!”
[align=center]PLOT: :BIO: :TRACKER[/align]
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Jerome Dudley
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Jerome smiled, good naturedly, at Andrew’s assurance that nothing would be said of their conversation. He believed him. It was not like Andrew, as far as he was concerned, to go back on his word, and that was for everyone, let alone for him when he was certain he was the favourite brother. Yet he did not like being labelled a whiner – joke or not. There had been something infinitely cruel in sending him there, and no matter how pathetic or feminine it sounded, he cared little when turning it over in his own thoughts. Nothing of the soldier was in him, and the fact his mother had coaxed him into it as soon as the rib was bearable was something he very much doubted he’d forget. What mother would send their youngest off to an entirely unfamiliar place to be cold, frightened and miserable? Obviously theirs would, and when he was not in one of the kind of moods to be as apologetic for his own faults when it came to their relationship, he rather hated her for it.

“I rather detest mother you know” he said, apparently at random. It certainly had nothing to do with his being protected from a haircut anyway. “I wasn’t very mended when I went, I don’t think, and even if you know the truth of it being a falsely inflicted injury, there was nothing false about the injury itself. How would you have liked to be packed off to some foreign place when you’ve just finished healing a broken rib, to be placed in a situation where the very focus is to break everything else? It’s not pleasant – and I love pleasant things! I was too young to go, say what you will. Just because younger boys than me went in all probability does not mean anything. I’ve met older eighteen year olds, morose, novel things as they are. No, mother was very bad in sending me. Cruel even. I shan’t forget it.”

There was something dramatic in his wording sometimes, and as he finished he couldn’t help but feel that was how it had turned out. Perhaps he would seem selfish and vain – why was it that the conversations always seemed to him to be about his feelings, or his relationships? He had less time for Andrew than he ought to have, and had in comparison a seemingly little interest in whatever his business was. For that he felt guilty, and embarrassed even. But then, he did not disagree with the essence of it. After all, he was the infinitely most interesting one, the poet who would be famed centuries to come and have whole biographies written of his doings.

“I’m sorry. I needed to vent – I’m still drunk slightly, I think. You can forgive me anything in this state, or in any state for that matter. I’ve been spoilt too much as an adult” he said, with a slight, genuine laugh. It was true. Jerome had never had anyone say to him all he ever spoke of was himself, and that he was entirely self absorbed in his own fluctuating emotions, even though he believed himself to be keenly aware of all its forms and implications. “But yes, the dog? He’s naughty then I take it? I don’t like dogs very much, and I doubt I’ll ever take one as a pet... Ah you see, I’m doing it again. But he’s naughty? You should get someone to kick it into submission I suppose.”
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Andrew Dudley
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Andrew could only sigh as Jerome vented about their mother and having to take part in the recent war. He shook his head and tried not to roll his eyes. “I don’t know why you hate, Mother so, you’re meant to be the favourite being the baby and all.” He sure damn well sounded like one. But Andrew knew who the real favourite was and it certainly wasn’t him. Even if John had played a part in their father’s execution, Mother had more or less forgiven him. And besides, look at him now, an Earl and so much wealth he probably didn’t know what to do with it, and not to mention a wife of high class who was probably days away from having their first child if she hadn’t had it already. And what had Andrew and Jerome done? Being knighted and a pain in the arse to their brother, well Andrew was slowly trying to change that for himself now, what Jerome could do he did not know. “It wasn’t Mother who sent you, but I suppose if I wasn’t disowned then I might have gone with you.” He didn’t want to think about war though, because surely if he had gone he would might have stood in harm’s way on purpose, because at that point in time, dying seemed the only way he could make their older brother proud.

As they walked, Andrew shook his head again and chuckled and clapped his brother on his back. “We were both spoilt, Jerry and left poor John do everything. Well now he has everything and we have nothing…which is why I thought it time to try to make a name for myself. I’m going to learn French did you know? And maybe even join the Navy! Maybe that’s what I need, a break from land and all the women it holds. Did John tell you I have a daughter? Don’t tell anyone though, but the woman who bore her was the reason why John disowned me, but now my daughter is being cared for by the Marquess of Cambridge, so she will have a good life, I hope.” He then paused and chuckled; glad to have something else to think about. He shoved Jerome forward for his comment about the dog. “Maybe we should kick you into submission too or just…” He hanged back for a moment, waited until Jerome was distracted as he crouched, gathered up a ball of snow and tossed it at his brother’s head. Whether it hit its target Andrew didn’t care, he still stood there with his arms crossed, and looking smug as if to say ‘beat that’.

Before his brother could recover from his ‘ordeal’, Andrew was crouching again to gather up more balls of snow and sent them Jerome’s way. “That’s for waking me up in the middle of the night! Merry Christmas, brother!” He laughed and took off after his pup, Elroy, who now thought that the humans were partaking in a game and paused to look back, his tail wagging.
[align=center]PLOT: :BIO: :TRACKER[/align]
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Jerome Dudley
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Jerome just listened and didn’t reply – Andrew’s opinions on his relationship with their mother was not something he wished to comment on. It was a singular thing, and he was unsure he understood it himself. Between loathing her, making her life as difficult as he could and then vacillating into a strange, boyish devotion he assumed he confused her as much as he was confused by himself. Yet he doubted Andrew was fully acquainted with all that, and he didn’t think he would tell him either. It was... perverse, and he was rather embarrassed by it. But the conversation was moving ahead onto other topics, and he found no difficulty in remaining unresponsive on a topic he did not wish to pursue further. Perhaps there would be another chance for it to come up, but it didn’t matter very much.

What did matter, however, was that Andrew was a father. In many ways, Jerome supposed it shouldn’t have been a shock at all. Indeed, it was probably more shocking that there was just the one. Yet he was rather shocked, and also disgruntled, by the fact he was just carelessly told after the event, and was never once consulted about it beforehand. He felt rather insignificant all of a sudden – had he not continuously bleated about his being Andrew’s favourite, the one he could rely and trust and whom was closer to anyone? They had always been more best friends than brothers, albeit with that latter most beneficial relation, and so he was not particularly pleased that he had been left not knowing.

“You should have told me sooner” he said, after being pushed. “And you should watch my rib. You know how sensitive it is, and how easily displaced it can be. It’s not fully healed, I’m sure. But you’re joining the navy? Good. I hope the boat you’re on sinks” he remarked petulantly, rather aware of that fact. “And you told John of this daughter before me! I thought you hated him – but perhaps that’s just a trick you’ve been playing on me, and you’ve both been laughing at me.” Jerome coughed uneasily, aware of how ridiculous he was sounding also. But he was sincere in that he was annoyed about it all, and even more annoyed when he was hit by snow.

Clustering in his blondish hair, he roughly rubbed it out before being assaulted further with it. “Andrew! It’s all down my top!” he moaned, sounding rather boyish. However he saw no reason why he should not retaliate, and began to chase after his older brother, argument in mind still, but also with a focus on covering him in as much snow as he possibly could.
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John Dudley
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A week or so more, and John would be headed to Lincolnshire and, by God, it was going to be a snowy ride. It was rather silly, but John was trying to acclimate himself to the cold he'd be riding through to see his wife and meet his child. More often than not, he would take Samson and Gardening Puppy for walks in the grounds through the drifts of snow and in the biting wind. It was a good diversion in the meantime as well, something to keep John from dashing off to Grimsthorpe in a fit of determination or doing something similarly stupid.

Gardening Puppy bounded through the snow as Samson strolled with more restraint not too far from his master. He could hear the treble of voices somewhere up ahead of him, but could not yet make their sources. "Samson! Gardening Puppy! To me!" John called. Nothing was more embarrassing that to have one's dogs leap all over an unsuspecting passerby -- especially at Hampton Court. One never knew how great a personage could be stumbled upon.

But, as Warwick finally spied the source of the voices, he was happy to let his dogs bound all over them. He could make out Andrew and Jerome -- his little brothers together, how wonderful! -- And was just in time to see Andrew clobber poor Jerome with snow! John could not help but let out a guffaw in a large plume of his breath, and Jerome's whining made him snigger even harder. "Did Mother not tell you to pick on Jerome, Andrew?" John called, continuing to approach his brothers and his dogs ran to greet Elroy. "For shame!"
[align=center]John is currently in 6 threads! He can have 1-2 more!

App! | Plot![/align]John Dudley: Minor League Whore

*BEARDY BEARDS*
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Isabel Leigh
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Virtue alone is invincible.
This thread has been archived either due to forwarding of board timeline or because of a month of inactivity. If you would like to continue, please PM an Admin!
[align=center]Mistress Leigh

Isabel is in 8 threads and can has more!
App | Plot[/align]
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