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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 11, 2021 1:41:51 GMT
---It was getting to be too much. It had been a couple weeks of the new season and Jeremy's parents never turned down an invitation. Whether it was a lunch event, an evening event . . . any event. They were all too happy to accept the invitation and respond that they would be attending. Of course, that meant that Jeremy was expected to be in attendance as well. He missed his cabin in the woods. The transition from there to the ton when it was bustling with activity was a difficult one. There was no ease shifting from one setting to the other. It felt the equivalent to being thrown in a body of water to learn how to swim. And much like that, Jeremy felt like he was suffocating.
---Guest upon guest. Pleasantry upon pleasantry. Dance upon dance. It was as if Jeremy could feel his energy depleting, bit by bit. And with the back to back gatherings the past couple of weeks had presented, this particular one should be no different. But it was. For whatever reason, unknown to Jeremy, it was. For he felt like he could not take it anymore. His chest and throat began to tighten as he attempted to swallow it back. He even tried to have a drink but could not bring himself to move towards that direction, out of some unknowable fear. For a man who wrote so many words on paper, he had little to offer now.
---It was when the room was starting to spin that he knew he had to get out of this environment. He did not even bother excusing himself from the three others he was in conversation with -- not that he had even said anything in the last several minutes. How did one talk when they felt as if they could not breathe. He quickly walked outside, descending the stairs to the backyard and noticing that it was vacant; no one else was out there. Not that it would have really mattered. He did not go deep the garden, but rather, just a bit to the side, hoping the fresh air would help.
---He started gasping for air, each breath seeming more strained the last. His hand reached for the tie around his neck, loosening it until it was opened. His heart, beating so hard in his chest that he felt as if it was going to burst. He closed his eyes to attempt to stop the dizziness, grateful that there was a tree nearby as he reached out his hand to lean against it, to brace himself to a stand. This was not the first time it had happened but damned if he felt like it did not get worse each and every time.
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 23:12:57 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 23:10:00 GMT
( face ) : one muse takes the other's face (cheeks, chin) when trying to comfort them. tag Elizabeth Davenport |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 23:08:16 GMT
[ DEFEND ] :
your muse intervenes between my muse and a source of unwanted attention.
Elizabeth Davenport |
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 23:02:07 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 22:58:34 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 21:19:59 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 21:19:36 GMT
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Nov 10, 2021 15:26:12 GMT
---Her response left Jeremy wondering if he had perhaps divulged too much. That she was merely being polite at the details of his . . . over sharing. Ah yes. This was most certainly why he needed to think before answering. Perhaps women did not wish to hear so many things about the inner workings of a gentleman -- and one that gave a rather convoluted answer at that. Though he knew that dwelling on it now would do no good. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. For while her answer may indeed be polite, there seemed to be a genuineness in it. Even if she could not see it, he instinctively gave a small nod in response, knowing that non verbal responses -- expressions mainly -- often landed him in just as much trouble as verbal responses.
---She told him that she was most likely keeping him from something and he let out a slight scoff at himself, at his own expense for he knew that he was hardly doing anything of note. "Hardly," he assured her. "I was merely scribbling some words down." He supposed fixing Bubby was the more important task, which had already been completed. "But I also know that an unchaperoned man has more time to himself than an unchaperoned woman," he said lightly, though with truth of course. If she wished to have some time for herself . . . well, her time was far more limited than his. Securing the final couple of stitches, he broke the thread and held up the cape to his gaze so that he may examine it to his satisfaction. As he eye studied every single stitch, ensuring each one was done to perfection, he rose to his feet and turned around. "It is done," he told her, taking a couple steps towards her so that he could hand it to her with ease.
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Tag me @jeremy
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Oct 27, 2021 1:46:22 GMT
---If he could describe someone he would want to spend the rest of his life with. An interesting question . . . perhaps because he had not thought of the qualities that he would like in someone. But more so, just somehow knowing -- even with time -- that that was the person he could see himself with. Or would he prefer a life of solitude she asked. Perhaps he was destined to be alone. It was what his father told him after all. That if he did not change his ways that he would not find anyone to . . . Tolerate. Him. Yes. That was what he was looking for he supposed. Someone who could tolerate him. Someone who could see past his transgressions and somewhat unconventional behavior.
---But feeling this and thinking this was far easier than verbalizing it. "I think . . . " He began to say, trying to piece together his thoughts to form coherent sentences. "I would not wish to settle," he finally answered. "I do not seek to marry nor do I seek a life of solitude. I seek, whatever is meant to be upon my path." That was as honest as he could be without getting into the detailed, deep seated reasoning. "I believe that when something is meant to be, it will be made clear and easy." Whether that was finding someone or finding contentment alone. "Of course my parents have a different perspective, but then, so do many mothers and fathers," he said on a lighter note in teasing to those mamas and papas who eagerly wished for their children to marry. But he himself knew it was his . . . free spiritedness and deviation from social norms that made him who he was. And that made his parents the way they were towards him as well.
---He smiled when she started to answer his question, once again relieved that she did not take offense and interested to hear her response to it. It was true; as a man she would perhaps have more liberties with not having to marry, at least so soon in life. "That sounds quite . . . reasonable," he told her. Simplistic yet complex at the same time for as they previously established, it was indeed a difficult thing to find in another. She did not seem to alter her way of conversing when he kept his back to her -- not having realized she did the same -- as she said that her home was not far, asking him how far his own was. "About an hours walk," he explained. But that was his estate; not his cabin. He was rather unsure which he would prefer to return to today.
---Once he tied a knot at the end of the thread, he began to weave it in and out of the cape. "Fortunately the weather is most agreeable today." For a walk. And a ride apparently. But even if it was not, Jeremy stilled preferred travelling on foot where able. "It will not take much longer to mend your cape. I would not wish to keep you from wherever you were intending on going." Even if it was just for a ride through the woods. Sometimes, that time alone was valuable and far too rare. He did not wish to intrude upon that. Especially considering she was out here unchaperoned and thus, her time was limited in how long it would take before someone came looking for her.
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Oct 26, 2021 22:44:47 GMT
---Elizabeth stated that she had not thought of what he had said in such a way before and Jeremy had to pause for a moment to recall each word he'd stated. Analyzing it and attempting to determine whether her consideration for his words was a good thing or bad thing. He attempted to find anything that could have negative connotations in what he said but his over active mind was unable to determine one. The ever existing risk of offending someone forever plagued upon his mind. Her next words -- much to his relief -- immediately distracted him as she said that she was at a disadvantage and explained why.
---He smiled, letting out a breath of amusement as he already knew there was no easy answer to her question. "I fear I do not even know what it is I am looking for," he told her. When it came to romance -- or more, lustful encounters rather -- he often just acted in what felt good in such a moment. Truth be told, he was uncertain whether he would hold that feeling towards a potential suitor. Would it . . . simply feel right? "Would that I hold such knowledge, I would surely share it with you," she assured her, not wanting her to feel an imbalance with how much she had shared in comparison to him. Perhaps, his words were revealing in their own right. Still personal to what he wanted by saying he did not know what he wanted. The pressure to determine such or to find a wife -- whatever came first -- was intensified through none other than his family's insistence.
---"If you were a man, what would you seek in a wife?" He knew even as the words left his lips what an utterly absurd question that was . . . yet he lacked the ability to stop himself from asking it, even midway. Though he scrunched his face a little after the words left him in acknowledgement of their oddness. "You do not have to answer," he added, removing any polite obligation she may feel towards responding. He after all did not want to cause her discomfort by having her consider such a thing if she was adverse to even thinking it . . . imagining herself as a man.
---As he threaded the needle he considered her question, without trying to reveal the depth in which he considered it. Truthfully, there were instances where multitasking proved to be quite difficult. But it often entailed tasks in which he struggled with, or settings which were a source of stress. Sewing however . . . he was skilled in. Surely he would be able to hold a conversation as the movements of the thread and needle would be quite natural. Yet. there was something else preventing him from finding that ease. "It is not that . . . " He began to say, ceasing his movements before inserting the needle into the fabric. It was not about his need to concentrate. He looked at his still hands, and then briefly at her, and then back at his hands. "It is just . . . " What was it. What was it. The thought entered his mind in pure realization simultaneously to verbally disclosing it.
---"I am unaccustomed to having an audience while I sew." Yes! That was it! Such actions were often done in privacy considering the secretive nature of them. So to have a woman watch him was . . . odd. "Perhaps . . ." He began to say, this time not revealing his thoughts through words, but rather, actions. He turned around on the stump so that his back was now faced towards her. "Much better," he said quietly, unsure if she heard him. With her unable to see him, he felt far more comfortable in carrying on conversation while mending the fabric. And to indicate as such, he continued to speak. "How far is your estate from here?" He asked casually. Too casually perhaps, considering to anyone else, it may appear quite rude that he was sitting with his back towards a lady and still carrying on conversation without any eye contact. Yes. Seemingly quite rude indeed, but Jeremy decided that this was the ideal scenario for in his mind . . . it was more favorable than sitting in silence.
NOTES:
He's a weirdo! Apologies!
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Oct 26, 2021 20:27:25 GMT
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Elias Knight
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what is required of a good writer is genius, learning, wide-ranging experience and heart | [attr="class","textblox05"] [attr="class","galhead"]ALIAS [attr="class","galtext"]Jeremy used the name Elias Knight for all his published works. His given name, Jeremy Colborne, is a name that he has never quite felt comfortable in. His chosen name allows him to express himself in all ways that he can not as Jeremy. This is due to his upbringing and scrutiny from his parents for his -- as they call it -- bizarre and unmanly behavior. [break] [attr="class","galhea"]SEWING [attr="class","galtext"]Jeremy is highly proficient at sewing. When he was young and started writing in his journals, he asked -- pleaded -- one of the maids to teach him how to sew. This was so that he could sew fabric around his books to keep them secure and hidden. Should someone discover them, he would know from the torn seams of the fabric enclosing it. Jeremy therefore, gained a great deal of practice having to open the seams and stitch them again sometimes multiple times a day. He became more skilled in this [creating stuffed toys for his niece, mending clothing, etc] however it remains a secret for he knows that men do not typically sew -- unless of course circumstances form him to reveal it. [break] [attr="class","galhea"]SEXUALITY [attr="class","galtext"]Jeremy does not discriminate between men and women, as he has no labels for his preference. He acts on what feels good in the moment and depending on what his mindset is. With the taboo of this within society, he of course does not disclose nor advertise this to others. He often only acts upon it in places where he feels comfortable . . . if he does in fact have control over his mind and actions. [break] [attr="class","galhea"]CABIN [attr="class","galtext"]As the son of an earl he of course has many properties. He has one in the city that he resides at during social season, he has a country estate -- along with others -- however, his most favored place is a one bedroom cabin located in the depth of the woods. It is here that he gets most of his writing done but also where he is at greatest risk of spiraling and having an episode. His cabin is lined with shelves of books and is extremely minimalistic. His parents do not know of this property, and he does not have household staff to tend to it. [break] [attr="class","galhea"]HOBBIES [attr="class","galtext"]Apart from writing, Jeremy has other few hobbies. He enjoys going for walks and hikes, able to travel rather long distances on foot. While large social gatherings cause him stress, he enjoys less . . . formal events. Ones where he can be himself, comfortable, and have a good snuff or two. His favorite pass time however is spending time with his niece, Arabella, whether it's taking her to the park, for walks, or playing dress up or dolls with her. [break] [attr="class","galhea"]MORE COMING! [attr="class","galtext"]----- [break] | [attr="class","minibanner"] [break]
Colborne, JEREMY
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age: 27[break]
status: nobility[break]
rank: heir[break]
occupation: author[break][break]
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Oct 26, 2021 18:16:52 GMT
---Jeremy could understand first hand not limiting oneself to a single outlet. In her case, experimenting with different instruments where playing them was her form of creative expression. He supposed that it was much in the same way that he did not limit himself to one type of literary work. He of course started with one but expanded to other forms as well. "It is always good to diversify," he stated, summarizing his thoughts without going into detail about his own work. "It allows one to continue to develop such skills and overcome potential challenges to strengthen it." He knew there was always a comfort in perfecting one skill and not wishing to expand from that out of fear of failure. Jeremy had after all, been in such a circumstance but he held anonymity which helped at the time.
---She spoke of the value of observation, and that her sister had her upcoming first season . . . having thought the attention would be placed on her. That was not something that Jeremy had witnessed first hand within his own family. Selina had been determined to marry her first season and she had. Marianne -- though not quite as determined as Selina -- held the same hope. And unfortunate pressures that came along with that. "I suppose there is an expected order of marriage, at least among daughters." Men were of course different. Increasing age was not as much of a threat for men as it was for women. Unfortunate indeed but such was the reality of society. He thought over her words carefully as she spoke of accomplishments and status being emphasized above happiness.
---"I suppose . . . it would depend on what a person seeks to be happy. For some, status and accomplishments is what they believe will grant them happiness in a union." The security. The status. The learning to love your partner after being wed. "Where as for others, such as yourself, it is more about the companionship and character of a person." The ease and comfort when with the person. Interesting, that it could be so divided. But that was after all what separated love matches to ones of more . . . convenient or political. "For the daughter of a Marquess, I would assume it is easier to find a marriage of status and accomplishments." Rather than what she truly sought which, as she said, was why she had not yet found a suitable partner. But the daughter of a high ranking nobleman would certainly not be in short supply of courters or proposals. Despite what Jeremy's father said, he was a man and therefore, knew of their inner workings and what it was that some men sought from a marriage.
---Which of course, meant that yes . . . some men were treated as such by eager and scrutinizing mamas. Talking to them was far more stressful than talking to their daughters. Which was also why his mother was constantly in fear of what may slip out from Jeremy's tongue when in their presence. "Yes their scrutiny is indeed . . . terrifying," he said with a tease, dramatically emphasizing the lastly spoken word. While he would not say he himself was quite, terrified of them . . . at times they did seem to trigger a rather, stressful response from him. Though he did not let his thoughts dwell on such things for right now, there were no ambitious mamas around them. It made it quite a lot easier to breathe.
---When she complimented his craftsmanship he slightly raised an eyebrow, skeptic of the compliment though managed to bite back his questioning as to whether she was being sarcastic. Polite. Yes, perhaps it was just mere politeness that prompted such words. "Thank you," he returned in kind. He was proud of his creation of Bubby but more so because his niece loved it, rather than his belief that he held any genuine talent in its construction. He relaxed his features as she handed him the cape and he sat on the same stump he'd been situated on before having met her. He gave a bit of a smile when she said to call her Elizabeth.
---"I suppose there are no formalities here," he said in acceptance to her request with a small smile. Among public eye, perhaps. But as he recently recognized -- or initially stated when they first met in the woods -- there was no one else around. "Please, have a seat. This will take only a few moments however you may as well be comfortable." Something told him she was not the type to worry about dirtying her dress by sitting on a tree stump, or the ground . . . or whatever else nature provided. She had after all already fell off her horse. With this words, he turned his attention to the cap, setting the torn part upon his lap as he started to unravel some thread.
NOTES:
none!
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Oct 26, 2021 3:23:14 GMT
---Jeremy listened intently as she explained that she enjoyed music, playing piano specifically as her own form of creative expression. "That is very impressive," he stated as if it was simple fact. For he himself had no musical talent. "Have you composed anything of your own?" He wondered. Where he write his own works, he wondered if she ever thought to create her own musical compositions. Had Jeremy started writing for the sake of fame, he knew that passion would be replaced with the pressures and stresses of being successful. But sometimes, it was nice to make creations out of passion, just for oneself. He continued to smile as she spoke of wanting to hear her thoughts about their works. His smile was both of wanting to as well as the knowledge he possessed. "I would quite like that. As I would also enjoy hearing your own thoughts of it."
---The when entered his mind. Was it a conversation to be had now? Or . . . in the future? Overthinking such things was both a strength and weakness within Jeremy. Though in current circumstances, he also thought of it because he did not wish to deceive Elizabeth by withholding the truth. He felt relief once more when she assured him there was no need for apology and that his observation was correct. "I do wish I could attest it to my own deep understanding and well versed knowledge of the subject," he said with a bit of a tease and quite clear in that he did not believe that he was necessarily those things. "However, I have two sisters. So I have gained some of that understanding through their own experiences. Of what I have lay witness to anyway." He would not pretend nor even suggest that he knew what it was to be a woman. Damned difficult that was for certain. Jeremy let out another short laugh at her words before quickly silencing himself with the same abruptness as when the laugh came.
---Her words were not humorous. Well, not in the conventional way. Oh to be in Jeremy's head was surely a treacherous thing. For now he knew he had to explain himself. He ran his tongue over his lips -- a habit that his mother abhorred -- yet one he did when he felt his throat suddenly dry. Whether the physical need to moisten his lips was there or not, it existed in his mind and that was enough to prompt action. "I do apologize," he started saying. "I do not mock your words." Her spoken words of what she desired in a husband. They were perfectly acceptable. "It is just that . . . " He fought and in the end failed, in preventing his lips from curving upward into a smile. "One would think that what you seek in a husband is so simple. And yet . . . it is perhaps one of the most difficult things to find in another." The irony of it had amused him.
---For it should not be so hard to find someone that one could simply talk to. And yet, it was. Conversations were so laced with pleasantries, politeness, and the desperate need to impress as well as maintain appearances. If one was stripped of all things . . . Jeremy could only dare to imagine what would be left. Far easier filtering of a suitable partner that is for sure. "I do hope you find it though," he told her honestly. "Ease and comfort in whomever you shall one day call husband." And he did mean it. He only hoped she believed him after what seemed to be his repeated attempt to offend her. Unintentionally of course, but nevertheless . . . he admired her for her resilience to his remarks.
---This time, his smile of amusement was far better timed as she made a teasing remark. "We men may not be paraded like heifers." -- an earlier reference to her description -- "But we are like lambs to be slaughtered by the sharp and unyielding tongues of eager mamas." The gossip had never quite phased him as he tended to live within himself. But his family was quite concerned with their reputation. And his own mother engaged in such gossips herself. Perhaps he would have managed to think twice before saying such words in the presence of a marquis' daughter . . . but something inside him, assured him that this time, she would not be offended. And that ease, knowing that and possessing this reassurance . . . made him start to feel oddly relaxed in her presence.
---He kept a watchful eye on her as she ascended the hill, remaining close and about to offer his hand though realizing that she was perfectly capable without it. Once they reached the top and her horse was secured, he made his way over to his small satchel which contained the need and thread wrapped in a cloth. Holding it in one hand, he turned his attention to her when she asked about Bubby. "Ah yes," he said, not thinking twice about making such an admittance. He had not initially told Selina that he had made it but . . . Arabella somehow knew. "It is for my niece. It was quite worn so I was merely touching it up for her." It did honor Jeremy . . . to know that the granddaughter of an earl could have any toy at any expense, yet she favorited something he had made. Smiling at the thought as he stared at the stuffed toy, he seemed to remember his purpose for bringing her here. Slightly shaking his head he looked back at Elizabeth. "Your cape, Ms. Davenport," he requested.
NOTES:
none!
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Elias Knight
"What is required of a good writer is: genius, learning,
wide-ranging experience
and heart."
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Post by Jeremy Colborne on Oct 26, 2021 1:57:59 GMT
---Jeremy gave a small nod in agreement to her words. "Indeed." Writing gave him the emotional release he needed as a child. An escape and way to express himself where he otherwise was expected to suppress thoughts, emotions and . . . whatever made him feel most like him. Thus, his chosen name of Elias Knight where it was his truest form. His truest form of self. "And what form of creative expression do you indulge in the most?" If any . . . though surely there was something. As was expected of women; to possess such a skill that could be boasted about at social gatherings and among the ton. Unfortunately his own was . . . not quite considered as such. Neither of his skills were be it writing or sewing. Neither were becoming of a future Earl . . . apparently.
---When she shared her favorites, his lips curved into a smile, fighting the urge to announce that he was Elias Knight. He did feel his heart swell with pride and honor that out of the countless novelists she could have named, she named him. Not to flatter him for she did not know he was Elias . . . which, made it mean all the more. "I have read many of the works of both novelists . . . thoroughly." There was a slight playfulness in his voice and a smile that remained. Perhaps he would tell her when circumstance could make it so that he was . . . boasting less and perhaps reveal it through a more creative means. This would indeed require some thought.
---Fortunately until then, she spoke of what she disliked regarding social season. A abrupt and short sound of laughter escaped his lips at her mention of heifer . . . and he wondered if that was meant to be funny or not. "Apologies," he added, in case she had not expected it to be amusing. "I do understand your perspective," he began to say pensively. "I suppose, most women enjoy the attentions when granted it. And that for many, they relish in the facades and games that high society engages in, knowingly or not." It was after all, seemingly a game. He had seen so much of it when men came to court his sister. The way they treated him so differently; attempting gain his favor. In competition with one another.
---It was quite fortunate indeed that his father was the only to mainly handle it but that did not fully deter some of the more . . . eager men. "Will you not find that the longer you wait, the more particular you will become and thus, the more challenging it will be to find the perfect husband?" He paused, already knowing that yes . . . that was quite an intrusive and potentially offensive question. "I do not mean to offend," he quickly added. "Merely, to inquire. As to whether you hope or desire to find a lifelong companion." Spinsters were often deemed as a dreadful fate . . . but perhaps there were women who preferred it that way. Damned be what society thought. It was, admirable Jeremy quite liked to think. Any deviation from social norms he found to be rather fascinating.
---But then she returned the question to him and Jeremy paused in thought of how to answer -- for once. "I am not entirely sure, if I am properly looking." Perhaps it best he not think before answering for even he knew how cryptic and uncertain that statement sounded. "I mean to say that . . . I find the circumstances to meet a potential wife not the most ideal." And that, could be left open to much interpretation which is just as he would leave it at. The crowds caused him immense stress. And that did not bode well when attempting to find a partner. There were of course Granville's parties as well but people did not attend to find a life long spouse. Some came to escape theirs.
---Her reaction to his revelation was . . . surprising. She did not seem to hold judgement but rather, gratitude at his offer. Most interesting. But then, she did not even judge him on his state of his unruly hair or his ridiculous comments. "Not at all," he assured her. "It only requires practice." Had he not already basically told her he was adept at sewing, he may have reconsidered his words revealing that he had practiced. "My supplies are just above this small hill." It was not overly steep, and where he gained the higher ground to watch her before initially approaching. "You can ride your horse up if it is easier," he told her, already taking a few steps up the small incline.
NOTES:
none!
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