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Chronicles of Correspondence

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(Pick Up A Pen.)

[08 Apr 2006|11:03am]

randomiranda
ELIZABETH~

by Edgar Allan Poe:

Elizabeth, it surely is most fit
[Logic and common usage so commanding]
In thy own book that first thy name be writ,
Zeno and other sages notwithstanding;
And I have other reasons for so doing
Besides my innate love of contradiction;
Each poet - if a poet - in pursuing
The muses thro' their bowers of Truth or Fiction,
Has studied very little of his part,
Read nothing, written less - in short's a fool
Endued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art,
Being ignorant of one important rule,
Employed in even the theses of the school-
Called - I forget the heathenish Greek name
[Called anything, its meaning is the same]
"Always write first things uppermost in the heart."

P.S.
A man in a black cloak will be waiting out side your window at the hour of eleven to spirit you away from the dreadful engagement. Ask him no questions and follow silently. He is sent by me and I trust he will deliver you without incident.
Further explination I know you must crave, yet I find I can only enclose a few details
in this letter as much that I have to say is of a most secretive nature. I did not in fact return to the school and have chosen a new path through the most peculiar of incidents. I have become a highway woman. Now, I imagine the look on your face as you are reading this is quite priceless, yet I beg you do not pass judgement on me. The man I have sent will reply to the name 'Dagger' but I again warn you to ask him no questions. He is one of my cutpurses and though he is an intimidating figure he will do you no harm. I look foward to hearing from you and beg you to write me on your journey. Within my next letter it will most likely be safe to awnser more of your questions. Till then, ado.
Impetuously,
Madrid

(Pick Up A Pen.)

[01 Feb 2006|08:02pm]

caterinadavinci

My Dear Madrid,

 

Go, lovely rose,

Tell her that wastes her time and me

That now she resemble her to thee,

How sweet and fair she seems to be.

 

I am so glad that you did send this letter when you did, for the simple fact that if it had been a moment earlier or a moment later I would never have received it. Of course, most of that has much to do with the postal service that did deliver it, so thank your lucky stars that it came as it came. For I have quite a tale to tell, and all the time in the world to tell it, but that I will explain in time. First I must discuss the proceedings that accompany your letter.

 

Tell her that ’s young

And shuns to have her graces spied,

That, hadst thou sprung

In deserts where no men abide,

Thou must have uncommended died.

 

From which you spoke of a certain clashing of steel my mind immediately turns to something I heard in the news the morning after, a fight had broken out in that part of town. I know of a boy dead from it, but that is all I had heard. Of your news of being kidnapped I must say that I am somewhat surprised that such a fate befell you, but rather suspected something of the nature. Madrid would never get a cold and stand me up, disappearing from regular life. I knew that something was amiss. And thus this letter explains it. First off, I cannot believe that you had the bravery to escape from your predicament, in such gloomy circumstances. I commend you. But one thing about your reply truly worries me. You said that you are returning back to the school, the school to which you undoubtedly mailed this very letter. But I am sure if you are to return there, you shall not find me. Bringing me to the second thing I must discuss pertaining to your letter.

 

Small is the worth

Of beauty from the light retired:

Bid her come forth,

Suffer herself to be desired,

And not blush to be admired.

 

It is of a small coincidence that you had been gone from school not three days before the end of quarter. We took our exams, and I passed them all outstandingly. I was sure now sure that I would be able to start examining colleges that I might have wanted to attend in the next year (as I was sure that my exemplary scholastic achievements had spoken for themselves to my parents future plans for me). But as a time comes in everyone’s lives to be, I was very much wrong. Not had it been a day into my return home before mother and father entered into the parlor (as I had went home briefly for quarter break, as you weren’t around) bringing with them the most peculiar sight. A man. At first I thought that maybe he was an administrator to one of the colleges that I was considering, you know, a surprise from the parents. But again, I was wrong. The official air that he carried about him only was due to his Lordship. For he was Lord Waller. Edmund Waller. I’m sure you know of him, he is about 20 years my senior, a rough man of sorts, one who, as I mentioned, would be the perfect administrator for a stuffy university. But here is where the catch begins: My parents (without want of my consent) had arranged a marriage between us. Believe me, I was surprised as any, especially of their motives. But now it is as clear as day, for I can see they had always rather I be a lady than a scholar. And what could I do? What could I say but go along with the plans. I kept on thinking what you would do. But my parents still thought I was their perfect little girl. I had no way of saying no, so what could I do? And hence my problem begins, as I am currently staying at the Chambord Chateau in France, as the wedding is to commence there in a fortnight string of time. As good a bridesmaid you would be if you could make it, a much better rescuer you could become if you were to somehow liberate me from my unkind fate. I have no idea how, but I perceive that you are creative, if you can evade cruel kidnappers, I am sure that you can do anything. I shall send this letter to Delphian, in hope that you will receive it when you return. Please do not leave me hanging. Time is of the essence.

 

Then die, that she

The common fate of all things rare

May read in thee,

How small a part of time they share

That are so wondrous sweet and fair.

Regrettably,

Elizabeth

(Pick Up A Pen.)

[01 Feb 2006|01:08pm]

randomiranda
Dearest Elizabeth,
I've so much to relate to you that I hardly know where to begin. I'm sure you must be anxious to hear the explination for my absence from our meeting several nights ago and continued absence from school since. I would have written you sooner but circumstances rendered me incabable of doing so. I truely intended to meet you behind the opera house that night and I aplogize if my absence caused you any trouble but on my way to our appointment I hear the clashing of steel in the distance and was too curious to not investigate. As they say curosity killed the cat and I suppose although I am not yet killed I am in quite a bit of trouble as a result of my investigation for when I followed the source of the noise someone jumped out of the shadows behind my and flung a bag over my head. I suppose I fell asleep for the next I knew I was bound and gagged abord a ship sailing down the Thames and ominous figures manned the helm and rigging. I managed to loosen my bonds and slip overboard, swimming to shore. I am on my way back to school but I knew your worrisome nature would not permit me to leave this explination a moment longer. I wish I had time to give you a more detalied and complete story but I find my train has arrived and if I do not now conclude this letter I will miss it.
Farewell,
Madrid

(2 Meddlers |Pick Up A Pen.)

[18 Jan 2006|06:22pm]

caterinadavinci
My Dear Madrid,
I assure you that there be no need for worry, although I must say that you are going to be quite suprised when I reveal to you the story of my outing. I can not wait another moment before I burst with anticipation to tell you. So I will meet you out in back at midnight, as Governess Mary will be safe asleep, and I can sneak out of my dorm all the easier. Be prepared for nothing less than shocking.
Excitedly,
Elizabeth

(Pick Up A Pen.)

[18 Jan 2006|09:25am]

randomiranda
Elizabeth!
I really must speak with you regarding your sudden dissapearance from the ball and what insued while you were gone. Meet me as soon as you can in the alleyway behind the Opera House.
Urgently,
Madrid

(Pick Up A Pen.)

[13 Jan 2006|11:25pm]

caterinadavinci
Why My Dear Madrid,
While I am still predisposed to think that nothing could possibly be more amusing than our escapades with the under dressings of our dear Mildred, your plan does seem quite intriguing. But I am rather doubtful about your plans to arrange me with William, even just for the benefit of a prank. As I may have mentioned before, I have had my eye on James Bennet, but that probably isn’t going to be going much farther than just a preposition, as he hasn’t the backbone to ask me. In fact, I am quite surprised that Nathan did ask you, as I expect the prospect of having you as a date would grate on anyone’s nerves. And as for your black and white number, I would advise you to go for it. As for me I’ll be wearing a puffy blue dress that makes me look like a fairy princess, as it seems my Governess Mary (who I swear upon the Lord came straight from the nunnery!) has the worst taste in fashion to ever grace the face of the Earth. So I am sure that by the time I am sitting aside, watching Emmaline’s feet being crushed in a dangerous dance of death, I could use a little scandal. Oh, my dear. You, never a part of true and proper society? Very true, very true. As I doubt proper society will ever accept a girl who constantly wears her riding pants underneath her school dress. I don’t think the Delphian was ever ready for you. In fact, I don’t think I was ever ready for you. Doesn’t it seem like years upon years ago that we first glimpsed each other in the halls? How time has changed. Ah, I remember it well though, how couldn’t I? I think it was during my last stages of being completely infatuated over Henry Kingsley. How dreadful, that little prat, I still wonder how I could ever have adored the brute. But then again, Governess Mary had a lot to do with it, I’m sure. How glad I am that I am past the days where I believed that she could possibly control my interests. But then again, this thought brings me to how I envy your complete control over your situation. While I still feel a need to keep up the perfect exterior that everyone besides you has grown to love, the exterior that doesn’t include daring pranks and corset coloring. Oh, look at me now, rambling on, as is always my habit when I get into a topic. So be sure to inform me on your plan as it further develops, as I guess I must say that I agree with it, as if I would ever turn down one of your brilliant schemes. So, I guess I will see on the ballroom floor.
Precisely,
Elizabeth

(Pick Up A Pen.)

[13 Jan 2006|05:29pm]

randomiranda
Dearest Elizabeth,
Do you remember last term when we dyed prudish Mildred's corset a most scandalous shade of scarlet? Well, I have a proposition for you of equally malicious hilarity. You see, as we have received an invitation to the coming out ball of the youngest daughter of Lord Wyatt. Her name is Emmaline and she is such a shy little sheltered thing, hardly fourteen years old. At my own coming out ball, four years ago, I had the most smashing encounter with William Noting and smashing I mean quite literally as he trod upon my feet so often, I had to sit out a dance to recover from the damage done to my poor feet. As I already have an escort to the ball, Nathan has asked me, I was wondering if you would allow me to arrange for William to escort you. Don't worry, I have a plan to help you evade the crippling effects of his dancing. As soon as we arrive you can claim to be indisposed with a headache and ask his leave to sit down for a while. I will then introduce him to little Emmaline and take a seat by your side as we watch that elephant dance with her. Okay so I admit it is not my best prank yet but I am determined to make this ball somehow amusing. The last stuffy ball I was forced to attend bored me to tears. Why can't my governess just accept that I will never be a part of proper society and leave me to my bloody fencing and riding? As she often says, I do in fact intend to live up to my fathers reputation. I mean, honestly, can you see me a contented housewife to somebody as regular as Nathan? Wouldn't it be wonderful to be a boy, a dashing highwayman or fearsome pirate. If I had been a boy, my father would have likely made me his apprentice by now and I would be sailing beside him and experiencing such grand adventures. Although, I suppose you wouldn't find such things appealing in the least. Well, I suppose dreaming of such things is rather useless as they can not ever come to pass. Do reply soon to inform me of your opinion of my scheme. Also, do you think it would cause a terrific scandal if I wore my black and white dress with the extremely low neckline? Oh, how amusing would it be to see the look on Lord Wyatts face when he sees that dress!
Indubitably,
Madrid

(Pick Up A Pen.)

[12 Jan 2006|08:12pm]

caterinadavinci
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