An outsider pondering changelings
Jan. 20th, 2009 12:36 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annwfyn.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
writing_shadowsThe following story is inspired by the following facts:
1) My Motley has a large number of people with striking looks x 4, and social traits dripping off them.
2) Carin owns a chain of pubs, under the name of Frances Davenport, and spends a lot of time running them and dealing with his real world business empire.
3) Carin is clarity x 9 and therefore needs things to be just so
4) Rosie and Doug are generally treated like Carin's kids, and Rosie's legal identity actually says that she is his daughter. Her legal ID is all in the name of Rosalind Davenport.
5) The London pub is also the basis for the Motley Hollow, and so the Motley tend to come and go through that pub.
So, with that in mind, have a story of a random bar wench peering at a motley of changelings, and some rampant speculation on what our characters would look like from the outside.
The Spaniard's Rest
Michelle Walker had been working at the Spaniard's Rest for six months now, and she had to admit, it wasn't a bad job.
OK, so there were downsides. The fact that the owner of the pub, and several other pubs across the country, lived directly above the premises was a pain and meant that you didn't really get a lot of space to maneuver. Things had to be done right, and they had to be done right first time. Plus Frances Davenport, who owned the pub, had strong views on the 'right' way of doing things, which was his way, and he didn't like much variation.
At the Spaniard's Rest, you didn't get away with knocking off early if there were no customers about. You didn't get away with coming in late, and you really didn't get away with swapping shifts at the last minute with one of your co-workers unless it was a real emergency. If Frances expected to see Michelle behind the bar on a Tuesday evening and walked in to find Ben there instead, there would be hell to pay. Frances Davenport didn't like surprises.
In a lot of bosses, Michelle thought, this would have been a real problem. In Frances Davenport it was just one of those things you accepted, and she wasn't even sure why. She knew that the rest of the staff all seemed to accept it to, although she suspected that was because two thirds of the staff were female, and the remaining third were gay men, and all of them had a crush on Mr Davenport, to a greater or lesser extent. She liked to think of herself as only crushing on him slightly, but maybe she was just deluding herself.
It was hard not to be attracted to Frances. He was just so damn good looking. He was tall, with broad shoulders and the kind of smile that just made you feel all warm inside. He reminded Michelle, in some kind of odd way, of the films she'd like as a kid. The ones with knights on white horses, or fairytale princes or something. She'd used to think she was crazy for thinking this, but then Judy, who normally worked the Sunday evening shift and had a big thing for Disney had said the exact same thing.
Of course, Frances Davenport never noticed the fact that most of his staff got slightly misty eyed when they talked to him. Sometimes Michelle almost resented him for that. It was like they were all beneath him or something. He was out of their league. He didn't date normal women – waitresses who struggled with their weight, or kitchen staff who had to dye their hair to stop it going a dull mouse brown. He'd had one girlfriend in all the time Michelle had worked there – his fiancée now, she'd be told – and she was as glamorous as he was. She was called 'Aria' (which wasn't even a normal name), and she was beautiful. She had glossy brown hair, and perfect skin, and seemed to glow slightly. She would smile and chat to the bar staff sometimes as she wandered through but you always got the feeling that she was just being polite. She didn't seem to quite belong to this world. She was just a little bit too perfect.
Michelle had mentioned this to Judy one Sunday afternoon and Judy had shrugged.
"Well," she had said, "if you were as good looking as Frances, wouldn't you date beautiful women? Anyway, it's not like we didn't already know that his taste in women ran to the model type. Just look at his daughter! His ex must have been gorgeous too."
Michelle had chewed on her lip briefly.
"I suppose so," she had said. "I guess I hadn't thought of it like that."
She had actually forgotten entirely about Frances' daughter. He had two kids – both nearly grown up, which made her wonder how young he'd been when they were born. He was in his thirties, she thought, so he must have been a teenager when Rosalind, the oldest, was born. She was in her late teens, and had the same kind of gleaming beauty that her father and stepmother-to-be had. The other kid, Doug, wasn't quite like the rest of the family, Michelle had to admit. But then, Doug wasn't like any of them in so many ways. There was something not quite right in the head about him. He couldn't work, and needed someone to stay home and look after him.
Michelle sometimes wondered if Doug was the reason that Frances had apparently had to raise his two kids alone. She had spent one afternoon running through an extended piece of relatively enjoyable speculation on this subject with Ben, the camp Australian who worked Friday nights. At the end of the afternoon Michelle was entirely convinced that Frances had been married very young to some gorgeous spoilt woman, probably at the end of a shotgun after she got pregnant. The first child had, of course, been perfect and gorgeous, but when the second had been born retarded she hadn’t been able to cope, and had run away. It was a strangely interesting story, which should really have lead to Mr Davenport realizing that you couldn’t trust these beautiful women, and deciding to date someone a bit more down to earth in future. Sadly, this didn’t seem to have worked, as the constant presence of Aria indicated.
Michelle had mentioned this piece of speculation to Judy, however, and Judy had shaken her head.
“That didn’t happen,” she said. “I think Frances’ ex had a problem with drugs or something.”
“Really?” Michelle had asked, and Judy had nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “I was talking to Rosie just before Christmas, and I asked about her mother. Asked if she’d be seeing her over the holidays. Anyway, she just looked a bit confused, and then said no, and she thought her mother was probably dead by now. Then she went all quiet and said that it was probably better to not talk about that.”
Michelle was agog.
“That sounds terrible,” she said, with some gusto.
Judy nodded.
“Poor kid,” she said. “Anyway, it sounded a lot like the kind of thing my cousin says about her dad. He had a problem, you see. In and out of rehab, couldn’t hold down a job. Would vanish off on binges, they’d have to drag him out of homeless shelters. In the end they gave up on him. But anyway, the way she said that…it sort of reminded me of the way they used to speak. And it’s the kind of reason why someone wouldn’t even know if their mother was alive or not.”
Michelle looked at Rosalind in a slightly different light after that. Poor kid, Judy had said. Michelle had never really felt sorry for Rosalind before. If anything, she’d been inclined towards jealousy. Rosalind seemed to have so much to envy. She was small, beautiful, had a rich father who spoilt her rotten and had an incredibly handsome boyfriend who turned up every once in a while. Admittedly, Michelle was slightly scared of Rosalind’s boyfriend. There was something slightly cold and a little bit unnerving about him although he obviously adored Rosie. Still, Michelle supposed it wasn’t easy not having a mother and having a retarded younger brother to deal with, and she really should feel sorry for Rosalind. Even if the girl was a spoilt little airhead.
The rest of the family seemed a bit better, although Michelle had taken a while working out who they all were. There was an older woman who came in regularly, called Rhian, or Rea, or something. Rosalind had apparently once referred to her as ‘my mad aunt’ when talking to Judy, but it wasn’t clear if that was on her mother or father’s side. Then there were the other men – Jack and Aidan. They were clearly family members of some sort, but Michelle wasn’t sure which. She thought maybe nephews of Frances? Maybe Rhian or Rea’s sons?
And that was the family.
They seemed to live in a slightly different world to everyone else, although what that world might be, Michelle had never really known.
Still, it was best not to think about them too much. At the end of the day, they weren’t her family. They were related to her boss, and he was a good boss. The Spaniard’s Rest wasn’t the worst place in the world to work. It could be a lot nastier. She’d got a friend who had worked for a bit down at Quasimodo’s, in the centre of town, and they got some really nasty clientele in there occasionally.
Plus, it was the weekend coming up. Michelle was going to get out of London, and maybe head down to Cambridge for the weekend. She had a friend there who had suggested they could go clubbing or something. It would be nice to get out and about. Maybe see some new faces or something.
Who knew who she might meet?
1) My Motley has a large number of people with striking looks x 4, and social traits dripping off them.
2) Carin owns a chain of pubs, under the name of Frances Davenport, and spends a lot of time running them and dealing with his real world business empire.
3) Carin is clarity x 9 and therefore needs things to be just so
4) Rosie and Doug are generally treated like Carin's kids, and Rosie's legal identity actually says that she is his daughter. Her legal ID is all in the name of Rosalind Davenport.
5) The London pub is also the basis for the Motley Hollow, and so the Motley tend to come and go through that pub.
So, with that in mind, have a story of a random bar wench peering at a motley of changelings, and some rampant speculation on what our characters would look like from the outside.
The Spaniard's Rest
Michelle Walker had been working at the Spaniard's Rest for six months now, and she had to admit, it wasn't a bad job.
OK, so there were downsides. The fact that the owner of the pub, and several other pubs across the country, lived directly above the premises was a pain and meant that you didn't really get a lot of space to maneuver. Things had to be done right, and they had to be done right first time. Plus Frances Davenport, who owned the pub, had strong views on the 'right' way of doing things, which was his way, and he didn't like much variation.
At the Spaniard's Rest, you didn't get away with knocking off early if there were no customers about. You didn't get away with coming in late, and you really didn't get away with swapping shifts at the last minute with one of your co-workers unless it was a real emergency. If Frances expected to see Michelle behind the bar on a Tuesday evening and walked in to find Ben there instead, there would be hell to pay. Frances Davenport didn't like surprises.
In a lot of bosses, Michelle thought, this would have been a real problem. In Frances Davenport it was just one of those things you accepted, and she wasn't even sure why. She knew that the rest of the staff all seemed to accept it to, although she suspected that was because two thirds of the staff were female, and the remaining third were gay men, and all of them had a crush on Mr Davenport, to a greater or lesser extent. She liked to think of herself as only crushing on him slightly, but maybe she was just deluding herself.
It was hard not to be attracted to Frances. He was just so damn good looking. He was tall, with broad shoulders and the kind of smile that just made you feel all warm inside. He reminded Michelle, in some kind of odd way, of the films she'd like as a kid. The ones with knights on white horses, or fairytale princes or something. She'd used to think she was crazy for thinking this, but then Judy, who normally worked the Sunday evening shift and had a big thing for Disney had said the exact same thing.
Of course, Frances Davenport never noticed the fact that most of his staff got slightly misty eyed when they talked to him. Sometimes Michelle almost resented him for that. It was like they were all beneath him or something. He was out of their league. He didn't date normal women – waitresses who struggled with their weight, or kitchen staff who had to dye their hair to stop it going a dull mouse brown. He'd had one girlfriend in all the time Michelle had worked there – his fiancée now, she'd be told – and she was as glamorous as he was. She was called 'Aria' (which wasn't even a normal name), and she was beautiful. She had glossy brown hair, and perfect skin, and seemed to glow slightly. She would smile and chat to the bar staff sometimes as she wandered through but you always got the feeling that she was just being polite. She didn't seem to quite belong to this world. She was just a little bit too perfect.
Michelle had mentioned this to Judy one Sunday afternoon and Judy had shrugged.
"Well," she had said, "if you were as good looking as Frances, wouldn't you date beautiful women? Anyway, it's not like we didn't already know that his taste in women ran to the model type. Just look at his daughter! His ex must have been gorgeous too."
Michelle had chewed on her lip briefly.
"I suppose so," she had said. "I guess I hadn't thought of it like that."
She had actually forgotten entirely about Frances' daughter. He had two kids – both nearly grown up, which made her wonder how young he'd been when they were born. He was in his thirties, she thought, so he must have been a teenager when Rosalind, the oldest, was born. She was in her late teens, and had the same kind of gleaming beauty that her father and stepmother-to-be had. The other kid, Doug, wasn't quite like the rest of the family, Michelle had to admit. But then, Doug wasn't like any of them in so many ways. There was something not quite right in the head about him. He couldn't work, and needed someone to stay home and look after him.
Michelle sometimes wondered if Doug was the reason that Frances had apparently had to raise his two kids alone. She had spent one afternoon running through an extended piece of relatively enjoyable speculation on this subject with Ben, the camp Australian who worked Friday nights. At the end of the afternoon Michelle was entirely convinced that Frances had been married very young to some gorgeous spoilt woman, probably at the end of a shotgun after she got pregnant. The first child had, of course, been perfect and gorgeous, but when the second had been born retarded she hadn’t been able to cope, and had run away. It was a strangely interesting story, which should really have lead to Mr Davenport realizing that you couldn’t trust these beautiful women, and deciding to date someone a bit more down to earth in future. Sadly, this didn’t seem to have worked, as the constant presence of Aria indicated.
Michelle had mentioned this piece of speculation to Judy, however, and Judy had shaken her head.
“That didn’t happen,” she said. “I think Frances’ ex had a problem with drugs or something.”
“Really?” Michelle had asked, and Judy had nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “I was talking to Rosie just before Christmas, and I asked about her mother. Asked if she’d be seeing her over the holidays. Anyway, she just looked a bit confused, and then said no, and she thought her mother was probably dead by now. Then she went all quiet and said that it was probably better to not talk about that.”
Michelle was agog.
“That sounds terrible,” she said, with some gusto.
Judy nodded.
“Poor kid,” she said. “Anyway, it sounded a lot like the kind of thing my cousin says about her dad. He had a problem, you see. In and out of rehab, couldn’t hold down a job. Would vanish off on binges, they’d have to drag him out of homeless shelters. In the end they gave up on him. But anyway, the way she said that…it sort of reminded me of the way they used to speak. And it’s the kind of reason why someone wouldn’t even know if their mother was alive or not.”
Michelle looked at Rosalind in a slightly different light after that. Poor kid, Judy had said. Michelle had never really felt sorry for Rosalind before. If anything, she’d been inclined towards jealousy. Rosalind seemed to have so much to envy. She was small, beautiful, had a rich father who spoilt her rotten and had an incredibly handsome boyfriend who turned up every once in a while. Admittedly, Michelle was slightly scared of Rosalind’s boyfriend. There was something slightly cold and a little bit unnerving about him although he obviously adored Rosie. Still, Michelle supposed it wasn’t easy not having a mother and having a retarded younger brother to deal with, and she really should feel sorry for Rosalind. Even if the girl was a spoilt little airhead.
The rest of the family seemed a bit better, although Michelle had taken a while working out who they all were. There was an older woman who came in regularly, called Rhian, or Rea, or something. Rosalind had apparently once referred to her as ‘my mad aunt’ when talking to Judy, but it wasn’t clear if that was on her mother or father’s side. Then there were the other men – Jack and Aidan. They were clearly family members of some sort, but Michelle wasn’t sure which. She thought maybe nephews of Frances? Maybe Rhian or Rea’s sons?
And that was the family.
They seemed to live in a slightly different world to everyone else, although what that world might be, Michelle had never really known.
Still, it was best not to think about them too much. At the end of the day, they weren’t her family. They were related to her boss, and he was a good boss. The Spaniard’s Rest wasn’t the worst place in the world to work. It could be a lot nastier. She’d got a friend who had worked for a bit down at Quasimodo’s, in the centre of town, and they got some really nasty clientele in there occasionally.
Plus, it was the weekend coming up. Michelle was going to get out of London, and maybe head down to Cambridge for the weekend. She had a friend there who had suggested they could go clubbing or something. It would be nice to get out and about. Maybe see some new faces or something.
Who knew who she might meet?
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no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 12:47 pm (UTC)Apart from that, I really like the viewpoint here.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 01:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 01:01 pm (UTC)Why do I fear Aria will be terribly nervous about all the staff at Carin's places?
(*sobs quietly for Aria's mortal identity* I did give her a normal name - Susan! She has a passport with it on and everything. It just...well...doesn't often get used unless you happen to visit the recruitment agency where she works or somehow end up with one of her business cards :) )
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 01:03 pm (UTC)I don't think anyone really calls Rosie 'Rosalind' either. I suspect that it's quite hard work remembering to call Carin 'Frances' in public too.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 01:11 pm (UTC)There was a brief period where Toby called her Sarah, but he's stopped doing that now too :)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 01:33 pm (UTC)Carin, naturally, thinks that he's relaxed an easygoing. I accept totally that anyone on high clarity is OCD and about as easy to steer as a freight train :-)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 02:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 02:10 pm (UTC)On the other hand, expecting a call once a week, at 19:45 on the dot, on sunday is perfectly acceptable. And coming to visit. Once a fortnight. For dinner. And I don't like new clothing styles...
*Blinks*
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 02:11 pm (UTC)Carin is the best overprotective father figure EVER!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 03:48 pm (UTC)Tradition dictates I must be evil, and I would be so very rubbish at being an evil step-mother!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 03:34 pm (UTC)*ponders how the Real Word sees Deyanira*
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 03:35 pm (UTC)Let this become a meme for all who read it!
~gets overly excited~
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 08:31 pm (UTC)But problems do get sorted out very quickly and efficiently.
I may do something similar for Q's actually. You have inspired me.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 08:59 pm (UTC)