Embarrassing or What (Niamh/Open)

[Stephen Colly]

Country: Devon, England
Current Time: 19:30
Weather Conditions: Light rain, darkening sky.

The rain was heavy as Stephen Colly, Private Stephen Colly walked along to the little country pub which was at the end of the road, he was wearing his army uniform, a cigarette in his hand, he smoked now. He had escaped his mother’s pestering and annoyance at him smoking and was now making his way along to a place where he could do things his own way. He had seen his father go up to the Fox and Hound earlier that evening, Stephen knew he would be in there of course, he would try and avoid him.

Stephen entered the pub which was already full of people, mainly country folk, nearly all the other boys in the village had been killed or had not been allowed leave so he was one if not the only man in uniform. He hadn’t been spending a lovely day at home, no; his father had been getting him up earlier and earlier ever since he had had the encounter with the “gypsy” as Mr Timmins, the vet, had called her. He had hoped her horse had been alright. He had got a bollocking from his father when he had got back, just as he had arrived into the yard and was untacking Zoey, his father had come round the corner and had got angry, beating Stephen for running off, shouting at him, Stephen hadn’t been allowed any food for the rest of the day and had been sent into the fields for the whole day, to plough the whole field, it took him and Zoey until 5 o’clock to do as the field had been big.

A lot of people came up to him, as he stubbed out his cigerrate and went over to the bar, ordering a drink, seeing his father out of the corner of his eye glare at him. ”Beer.” he said to the bar tender, he took the drink, paid and walked quickly away from his father’s glare.

”OI, BOY COME BACK HERE.” he heard his father’s voice travel over the other noise and the whole pub went quiet, Stephen turned around to see his father pointing at him, his other drunken friends were around him, watching.
”Yes father.”
”You been smoking? Drinking?” his father said, pulling Stephen towards him, mutters from the crowd around were now louder and Stephen felt his face going red.
”Get off.” Stephen half shouted, pulling away from his father’s drunken grip.
”Calm down boy.” one of the fellow farmer’s said. Stephen backed away, disappearing into the crowd and pushed open the door, banging it behind him. He stepped out into the rain, it was so refreshing, he stood under the pub door so the rain wasn’t too bad, lighting a ciggie and taking a swag, closing his eyes, thinking.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

OOC - What's the name of Stephen's hometown again?

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The sons of guns couldn't even be decent enough to give her a place to stay out of the rain.

Her travels to London had been postponed; apparently, all the trucks heading out that way were tied up with shipping goods and horses out for the war effort. By the look the vet had given her, though, Niamh guessed that it was partly a lie - it didn't surprise her in the slightest. Nobody around here seemed to want her to stay.

As the light rain continued to fall down upon her, the Pavee walked on. The rain never bothered her; she was a nomad, travelling from place to place, never having a home for long. It was the life of her early childhood, and although her Mother and Father seemed to want to have nothing to do with it, she did. The insults, the chasings away, the things being flung at her and the bad weather...it was all worth it. The world was her home.

Walking up a hill, nearly slipping on the cobblestones that made up the roads of the small town, the Pavee's mismatched eyes caught sight of a hint of light in the darkness. Curious, she headed towards it, but then froze when she saw who it was.

It was the young farmer, who's father she had tangled with before. He looked...upset, though, and he was wearing an army uniform. Maybe he was being sent back to the front lines...?

"Oi, 'allo t'ere!" the Pavee said with a smile, her words said when she was but fifteen feet away from the boy. "Need some company?"

[Stephen Colly]

OOC - His home town is Exeter.

Stephen let the rain fall down his face and neck, it did feel so nice, he would regret it soon when he had had enough of the rain but he didn’t mind it now. He took a sip of his drink and another puff of the cigarette, he could have punched his father back there, bastard.

He heard a voice coming from near around him, he looked around, his eyes spotted a girl within the light of the pub, squinting he saw that it was…the girl, the gypsy that he had helped mending her horse. ”Oh hello.” he said, his expression on changing as he lent his head on the building. ”I thought Mr Timmins said that you should be getting away.” he muttered, taking his helmet off and tucking it under his arm. Letting his hair now get slightly damp, he rubbed his left eye, feeling the bruise where his father had beaten him days before.

”Hows your horse?” he asked, now trying to make conversation now. He ran a hand through his hair.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"He's fine," Niamh said with a smile. "Drum's had worse. B'sides, 'tis you I'm worried 'bouth."

Niamh was no stranger to abuse. Although her parents had been kind and doting, the rest of society had not, seeing them all as mere "Gypsies", society's lowest trash. The girl had been hardened by a lifetime of bruises, cuts and scrapes, as well as more serious injuries such as broken bones. With the way his father had acted, Niamh suspected that his father was abusing him.

"Hold still t'ere, love; lemme look at ya," the woman said softly, walking over to Stephen. Her hand would reach up, and she would attempt to gently turn his head to the side, to see what the dark spot on his face was. If she succeeded, she would wince. The bruise looked horrible.

"Don'th thell me someone hith you," the woman said sternly. "I t'ought soldiers were 'spected folk. 'Tis a crime you're bein' knocked around off t'e fronth lines."

[Stephen Colly]

”Me? Why the hell you worried about me?” Stephen asked, frowning. He had been beaten for not working, his father was a drunk, before the war, everything had been alright; yes his father drank before, but not as much as he did now. It was the days after Joey had been sold away, Stephen and his father hadn’t spoken to one another for weeks, even months, there had been an uneasy household that his mother had hated but Stephen would never forgive his father for selling Joey, his Joey, to the war.

Now, the girl was coming towards him, he flinched slightly as he hand reached up and turned his face so the bruise was facing into the light, it was a horrible bruise, his father had hit him with a horse stick and then had proceeded to hurt Zoey as well, Stephen had put up a fight for the horse but had gotten another round of beatings in his turn.

Now thinking about it, Joey was probably better off at an army base somewhere than being at home…the woman was now speaking sternly and Stephen’s thoughts and ears turned to listen. ”Father did.” Stephen said ”That’s what I thought, soldiers being respected folk but not here.” he muttered, yes he had thought that, he had been respected but not around his home town.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"Basthard."

That was the only word that could come out of the Pavee's mouth, riddled with contempt. The bruise on Stephen's face was one only a heartless criminal would give someone. Stephen's father was the lowest of the low; why would he beat his own child, and to make it worse, a child that was off fighting a war?

It would not do. Niamh would make sure of that.

"Oi, listhen," began she, "I may be a Pavee, an' y'mighth t'ink me a Gypsy, buth I know a lil' thing 'bouth decency. Why don'th ye sthand up for yourself? You're a soldier! Did t'ey noth theach you how tho snap necks in yer thrainin', laddie?"

Realizing that sentence might have come out wrong, the Pavee blinked, then began again.

"Err, sorry. Whath I meanth tho say is, you bes doin' a loth of fighthing outh in France an' God knows where else. Ye are sthronger t'en him, in spirith and muscle. He's just an old basthard t'at t'inks he's bigger then ya; show 'em you're not gonna thake it lyin' down! Be proud of yaself, laddie!"

As unorthodox as her attempt at an inspirational speech was, Niamh felt it was needed. This man had saved Drummer's life, and Niamh felt she needed to repay him. If his father was being cruel, then the Pavee would do all she could to help Stephen. He deserved it.

[Stephen Colly]

She began to speak to him like his mother; Stephen turned his face towards her now, ”Soldier’s aren’t what you read in books.” Stephen said shortly, ”Not all of us that is.” soldiers in books were portrayed as heroic and loved by the whole nation, it had been like that in the Great War and it was like that now, people seemed to always think that soldiers would come and save the day and most of those people hadn’t even seen down the barrel of a gun, hadn’t even been fighting for their lives under gun fire and death all around them…

”He’s a drunk.” Stephen said, taking another puff from his cigarette and shrugged, ”He’s my father, I hate him and all for selling off my horse to the war, and I vowed I’d never talk to him again when I joined up but now, it just feels like I was wasting my time…” he shrugged and chucked his cigarette into the gutter, taking out another and lighting it. Niamh’s speech had sounded very inspirational but Stephen wasn’t really in the mood for inspirational speeches.

”I’ll be away from here in a couple of days.” he said, he took a puff of the cigarette, and then taking a swig from his drink, watching as the smoke spun into the air and carried on the wind. His thoughts turned to McMillan, Edward had probably stood up to his father, but Edward was gone, never to be seen again, his body in the ground somewhere in France or England or god knew wherever he had fallen…

”Thanks for the tips, but I’m alright.” Stephen muttered now, hearing the voices grow louder as a country folk song was heard inside the pub, Stephen hummed the tune, he knew it “Only Remembered” an old war song that they had sung in the trenches, he could hear his father’s voice above the rest, shouting the song, his singing voice very bad indeed.
"You sound like my mother." he said after a minute of silence between the two, smiling over at her.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

The woman merely slapped her face with her hand's heel. Here she was, with no authority over the boy whatsoever and no knowledge of the military's inner workings, and she was sounding motherly. Motherly. Niamh's own mother always said for her to watch her mouth, that trying to be the pecking hen would just get the girl a foot up where the sun didn't shine. The Pavee could not help but feel idiotic.

There was silence for a moment - and it was less then comfortable for Niamh. She sighed tiredly, rubbing her face, then looked back up at Stephen. The way he looked out into the distance...he had seen a lot. And not just from his father. He really didn't deserve to have Niamh harping on him at the moment.

"I'm sorry," said the girl. "I...I don'th know really whath I was after thinking, after actin' all that way and...and shtuff. I'm justh really, really gratheful for ye savin' Drum."

The girl scooted under the doorway, just as the ran began to fall harder. The lands were about to receive a soaking, as per English norm, and Niamh didn't want to be waterlogged from head to toe. If she did, she might catch a cold, and the last thing she needed at the moment was a cold.

"Mind if I hide under here, laddie?" the Pavee asked, flashing a small, sheepish smile. "I promise noth tho sound all hen-pecky 'gain, honesth."

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen know thought, what with the silence between the two that he had said the wrong thing, he felt very awkward and looked away from her, feeling that maybe, just maybe he shouldn’t have said what he had just said about being motherly, heck she was only maybe a year or two older or younger than he was by looks…

”No, I’m sorry for telling you, you sounded like my mother.” he said, his face turning red, ”Oh and no worries about your horse, it was more Mr Timmins help than mine, I just like to help horses, they are creatures that I will always love.”

She came closer to him now, because of the rain that fell faster and faster and heavier and heavier. ”I don’t mind no.” he said as he moved a bit so she could stand, ”I need to be getting home soon anyway; I know this may sound strange but do you want to stay the night? I mean, it’s horrible weather and all, and mother wouldn’t mind, father won’t be back for ages, he might not come home at all…” he trailed off, he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression, he didn’t love her or anything, no he had gone off girls along time ago, no he just felt like she needed some place warm, ”Your horse could sleep in one of the stables.” he added. ”And, I’m not going to be around much more so…” he trailed off once more.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

Niamh smiled at the farmer-soldier. He was very kind, letting her stay in his house and all, even after all the trouble her appearance had caused him. Talk about a heart of gold.

"I...I appreciathe t'at, I really do," the Pavee began, "but are ya sure, laddie? I mean...lottha people don'th wanth me 'round t'ese parths...I'd hate for ya tho gith all banged up and sthuffs. You're quithe kind, Sthephen - may I call you t'at?"

It seemed as if another soldier had become an acquaintance - first the Nathan man, whom she had met months earlier at a pub, and now this lad. Fate was an odd thing.

Suddenly, there was the crashing of glass, and angry shouts erupted from inside the pub. People began to scream at each other, and by the thunderous noises that exploded from within, the entire place was the centre stage for an all-out bar fight. Niamh jumped away from the door, blinking rapidly.

"Sweet God, ith sounds like bloody murder in t'ere!" the woman said. "I t'ink ith would be smarth if we goth outtha 'ere...I don'th t'ink I wanna sthay 'round an' git my theet' knocked outh."

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen just wanted to be kind; he just wanted to help people in any way possible. ”Yeah, I’m sure.” Stephen said, ”Me? Kind?” Stephen thought back to words of that sort of effect that Edward had used…poor Edward. ”Yeah, course ya can.” he said, smiling at her. He hadn’t been called kind for so long, it was normal idiot boy or lazy or words to that effect by his father.

The crashing of glass made Stephen jump away from the doorway, cowering like a frightened cat as he stared at the door, bombs…shells…gun shots erupted into his head and he blinked, his face turning into terror. ”Jesus.” he said as he ran a hand through his hair, picking up his helmet which he had dropped and it had clattered to the floor.

”Yeah, let’s get out of here.” he said, putting his helmet back on and marching back down the street, he stopped at the end of the street and turned, waiting for Niamh, ”We may just have to walk, I’ve got no other mode of transport, the farm isn’t far away.” he said as the darkness started to settle in and the moon came out, the clouds clearing away, the rain had started to stop after the sudden down pour.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"Yes, you, laddie. You're kind," the girl said, smiling. She was beginning to think that Stephen had some issues with his self-esteem...heck, he reminded her a lot of herself, back when she was in school. Jumpy, unused to compliments...that sort of thing.

Out of the corner of her eye, the Pavee saw the look the boy gave the bar's doorway. It threw Niamh off a little; sure, you could be scared of all those loud noises...but he looked like a child. A child. Something was wrong with his eyes, too...they looked like they belonged to a man staring down the barrel of a gun. His father must have hit him hard...

And then, it hit her.

As the man walked down the street (or marched, rather), the Pavee ran right after him. Stephen said something about just having to walk; that was fine with Niamh. When you lived in the world, you couldn't be picky - you took whatever the higher being that ruled the universe out there threw at you, and you made the best of it. Her feet and legs were strong, and she could walk far. While Drummer was recovering, Niamh had to be more dependent on herself, and she was fine with that.

But what wasn't fine was the fact that her friend was scared. Not just a normal kind of terror, either...it was a terror that would stay. It would linger on, even when all the hitting, all the noises and gunfire went away. It could consume the heart and mind, and make innocent sounds more vicious, common sights more deadly.

It was a fear that could drive one into insanity.

"Sure, t'at's fine," the Pavee said with a smile, her voice gentle. She liked this Stephen boy...yes, a boy, much like how she was still a bit of a girl, in the last bits of childhood herself. God forbid if his father came home in a bad mood, because if he did...

[Stephen Colly]

There it was again, the word kind. She seemed to say it with honesty and meaning, not many people had ever said that to him with such meaning and kindness, no one had really said many kind words, only his closest friends.
Niamh now ran after him, falling into step with him as he marched off, his head looking up at the sky, stars and the moon could be seen, and floating high above. ”First time I’ve seen them in along time.” he said, motioning to the little dots in the black sky, ”Beautiful things.” he said, he glanced at her, hoping he didn’t sound pathetic.

“Good.” he said, giving her a smile and walked on, it was becoming quiet cold now that the sky was clear and the rain clouds had gone, a sort of mist hung in the air as if a storm had just passed through, even in the deepest part of Devonshire, Stephen could still hear the guns going off in his head, those guns would never stop, never.

They reached a little track off the road and Stephen turned down it, his hands in his pockets, the trees covered the path like people, watching them as they walked under the branches, they reached the end of the track which came to a yard, they were suddenly in the yard of Stephen’s house, it hadn’t taken very long as Stephen had walked briskly.

Without a word he walked to the door and opened it. ”Come in.” he said, smiling.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"...Yeah," Niamh said, glancing up at the stars as they walked along. "T'at t'ey are, Stephen...t'at t'ey are."

The stars were familiar, those diamonds in the sky something dear Niamh saw almost every night. She sometimes never got to sleep until some time before sunrise, and the glimmering darkness was studied in this time, the Pavee girl finding as many constellations and patterns as she could. Her mind would whirl, spinning a story about how the Big Dipper liked pouring rain onto the world, or how the Little Dipper wanted to feed soup to everyone in the world. It was great fun, but thinking about such things made her miss Drummer...the poor stallion.

Why did good people like Stephen have to suffer? Why did people like him die, get sick, lose a limb and never be the same? Why were they treated so poorly for being kind, for having a heart and soul, for not being an empty shell like some people were? It made Niamh sick, but she wouldn't tell him that now.

Truth be told, she was probably feeling as surprised as he was. She had called him "kind", and he had been nice enough to let her stay at his house. It was an eye-for-eye thing - to think, she had thought of him before as just another ignorant person in the world! How shameful of her.

"Come in," the boy said suddenly, opening the door for her. Blinking in surprise, realizing she had been deep in thought for most of the journey, she walked forward. She took a moment to turn her head towards him, though.

"How genthlemanly of you, Sthephen. When I writhe to my Fat'er, I'll have tho thell him I met such a nice laddie like yaself. He likes people like t'at."

And with that, she walked into the boy's abode.

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OOC - Not saying we should - we could probably fit several more posts into this - but just let me know when you want to close.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen smiled as he heard what she said, ”You do that if you want.” he said, hearing footsteps and turning around to see his mother coming towards them. ”Mother, this girl is going to stay with us, it’s only one night and it is such bad weather.”

”Where’s your father?” she asked, ”You were supposed to be looking after him.” she said, coming towards him with a light and putting it up to his eye, ”That bruise is getting better.” she said, cupping his head in her hand, ”Have you been drinking?”
”No.” Stephen said, shrugging her off and began up the darkened stairs. ”Come.”he said as he spotted, looking back at Niamh, smiling slightly then turned around and kept on going up towards the landing and to his room.

His room was small, the smallest in the house, it had old photos of horses, one certain horse stuck out among the rest, a big red bay that always had it’s ears pricked at things out of the photo.

Stephen began to undress, taking his uniform off to show his chest that had a few scratches and another bruise on the side, he put a shirt over the top as soon as he had taken his top half off, glancing at Niamh.