<a class="postlink" href="http://img130.imageshack.us/img130/8688/whiteeaglebyandrahilded.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/><br/>Skin prickling with the early Autumn chill, the small congregation of folk on the platform seemed to collectively pull their coats tighter around themselves.<br/>It was your usual train yard affair; a well to do brick ticket house with a crooked tin roof, pigeons squatting on the metal beams, whitewashed benches, paint chipped away at the side from the fingernails of a young, fidgeting child lining the flat, grey paving, all freckled with cigarette butts, dry leaves, pocket drivvle-- pen lids, loose change, scraps of lipstick stained paper, the usual odds and ends that can slip out of a bag or coat at any moment-- bubbles of orange spittle from foul mouthed youths, signs lined with regiments of text and numbers, the secret travellers code for train times, waiters waiting, friends and family anticipating, kids guffawing and old women nattering. Everything perfectly tailored for movement, for those short steam engine powered rattles from A to B.<br/><br/>From over the grubby shoulder of a young worker furiously scrubbing the moss from in the groves, nooks or crannies in the metalwork, these passengers could see the time reflected in the old grand station clock.<br/><br/>Nine thirty-six. In the morning.<br/><br/>On individual, a young, slim figure of a man, wrapped in a well tailored jacket, lounged against the wall, a small, crooked grin, childlike for excitement just visible beneath the shadow of the material and the hat he wore. Alastair turned his ticket between his digits thoughtfully, enjoying the solitude one found at the far, far end of the platform.<br/><br/>â€œMaster Darkotter,â€ For what small company he held one man stood forwards. The richly dressed and well mannered the fellow was Alastairâ€™s valet, charged with the duty of seeing the young angel kept and well, so far he'd failed. Wonderfully, â€œSorry to disrupt your pondering, sir,â€ he continued, strict, clipped voice cutting through the cool morning air, â€œbut I've had word sent ahead, there'll be a nurse on board so we can change your bandages,â€<br/><br/>A lone brow arching, Alastair chuckled, â€œLike the doctor ordered, Prim,â€<br/><br/>Prim frowned, â€œI don't know why you find this so very amusing,â€ he started promptly, â€œI heard your poor mother, Godess bless her soul, had a turn just hearing about it!â€<br/><br/>The young man laughed playfully, drawing his wings to a tight bunch atop of his shoulders, â€œShe'll be fine! As,â€ he nodded at his valet, blue eyes would have been glistening were it not for the bandages and scabbing nestled beneath, â€œwill I! Though, mind you, I shall have a frightening lot of empathy for the blind!â€<br/><br/>â€œTake use of the feeling,â€ Prim nodded, lips pulled into a stern line, â€œOrganise a charity event. It would look wonderful on the house and do the world a good lot of good I should imagine,â€<br/><br/>â€œPerhaps, perhaps!â€ He craned his neck, cheeks catching the early sun, cogs turning away somewhere under the white mane of his cranium. He looked for all the world like a boy playing blind man's bluff with the trademark loose loop of white material around his face, â€œno doubt mother would find an opportunity to dive in and drive on the poor project. Really I should much prefer it to be a personal work...â€<br/><br/>â€œLady Darkotter means best, young man,â€ Prim scowled something of a trademark scowl that all tutors from every corner of the earth must have shared, â€œand you would do well to remember that! Whilst we're on the subject of respect, that animal you've trained to sit on your chin,â€ he meant the beard, â€œdo get rid of it before your father sees!â€<br/>Almost as if you illustrate the point the old man gave the offending hair a pointed tug. Scowling like he'd ordered him to eat kittens rather than shave, Alastair jerked back, â€œThis is a sign of coming of age in some countries!â€<br/><br/>â€œIt'll be your death warrant here, Sir, you mark my words!â€ Prim shook his head, folding his arms across his beefy chest, â€œHe'll have all the ladies maids and foot men lined up at the door for you, your mother in her Sunday best and you'll step out the carriage, a tribal vision! Just imagine!â€<br/><br/>It took every ounce of will in the angel not to crack up.<br/><br/>â€œAnd then what!â€ Prim continued, bold and stern as ever, â€œYour mother, poor woman, will go down like a lead balloon and as for your father-- having not seen you for years shall be mortified! He sent out this good, clean, scrubbed little boy and got back a witchdoctor in a gentleman's clothes!â€<br/><br/>â€œDear Prim!â€<br/><br/>The old man's amber eyes shot wide, â€œI shall-- how is it they put it?-- get the sack!â€<br/><br/>Alastair shook his head, grinning like a cat, â€œNever!â€<br/><br/>â€œTrue, young master! It's the solemn truth!â€ his tone hopped up a few octaves, â€œAnd in addition I've brought you back half blinded! Terrible affair that was! All because, let it be said if it hasn't already, you aren't fond of listening!â€<br/><br/>Alastair laughed, â€œPardon? I was elsewhere,â€<br/><br/>Prim scowled.<br/><br/>â€œOh come now,â€ the young man waved the issue off with one non-chalant hand, â€œthe doctor told me my sight was unharmed. I might scar a touch, but at worst, that'll make a wonderfully interesting ice breaker over dinner!â€<br/><br/>â€œDon't let your mother hear you saying that! She'd never allow you the pleasure of dining with guests for as long as you breath!â€<br/><br/>The air was marked with baritone laughter for a moment and then the moment passed.<br/><br/>Alastair was the first to break the silence, â€œWhat time does the train arrive?â€<br/><br/>â€œTen minutes, anxious to be home?â€<br/><br/>â€œThe first time in years,â€ the angel smiled nervously, â€œWhat do you expect?â€<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>((OOC: Note: this is kinda an intro, I'd take it to the house from here, up to you really though! :P))