A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Subtle Trouble on 22-11-2010, 23:08:21</h2>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>22-11-2010, 23:08:21</strong>
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				Katie sighed, as she stood before the baggage carousel, light blue eyes dulled by jet-lag. The excitement of her first solo trip, to England, no less, had been dulled by the large gaseous individual who had spilled over into her seat on the plane. She wasn't sure if it had been a man, or a woman, but it was smelly, and made disconcerting noises. And it had the aisle seat. She bent down, and snagged her suitcase from the carousel as it slowly chugged past, hauling it onto the floor, and adjusting her huge carry-on against her side. It took two more hours to clear customs before she could even begin to flag down a cab. To the hotel, check in and fall face first onto the bed. She didn't even bother eating before curling on her side to sleep. <br><br>It took ten hours of sleep and a very long, very hot shower, but when she woke in the morning, Katie actually felt like a human being again. She hummed to herself, as she massaged pommade through her short, blonde, pixie hair cut, and blow-dried it, giving it the textured look she'd been replicating from the salon for three weeks. She dressed in comfortable jeans, hugging tightly to her curves. She'd been working out for three months, and though she felt much better, she still held all of the curves that she was trying to rid herself of.&nbsp; A bright red peasant top, and a thin black hoodie completed her clothes, and with red and black converse she was ready for breakfast. <br><br>She skipped to the nearest breakfast restaurant, as directed by a very sleepy receptionist. Breakfast, paired with lots of coffee, finally woke her up enough to take in the dawn weather. It was grey, and a little drizzly - which would be perfect to photograph the Fletcher estate. It was the creepiest looking mansion the publishing house could find, for the cover of... what was it? Some romance novel about ghosts. No matter, she would take the photos, and then the ones of the inside for the architectural magazine. Not that she knew a thing about architecture. She had a list of things she'd wikipedia'ed to photograph, and then she would be back, to go to pubs, and hopefully meet a pretty English bloke. After all, she was the one with the accent, here.<br><br>As the cab wound its way through the countryside, the skies darkened. Katie's rounded face, with almost-too cute nose, and pink lips was pressed against the window, taking in the landscapes. She would have to come back when it wasn't threatening rain to take photos. It was amazing, and similar, but somehow different than Canada. Less trees, she supposed.<br><br>And then she saw it. "Geoff, what's that house?" She asked the driver.<br><br>"Dunno, been there forever. People say it's abandoned. Gives me the willies."<br><br>"Can we take a side-trip?"<br><br>"Listen, I have to go after I drop you off. I can drop you off here, or the Fletcher place, but not both."<br><br>"There, please. I'll call for another cab to meet me."<br><br>One hair-raising turn, and the small car wound its way up the side of a large hill, and into a forest. She'd nearly missed the house hidden away, it was so dark. She had to take pictures of it. They wouldn't mind if she was and hour or two late at the Fletcher place. She could make up an excuse, but the house begged to be photographed. And it was likely much better for the romance novel. Who knew, maybe they would Photoshop the models into this house instead.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 01:16:07</strong>
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				There was a great deal to be said about solitude, a most underrated quality, he thought to himself as he pulled open the heavy drapes of the sitting room and gazed out at the long immaculate lawns. Simon Chalfont had been born in this house, been raised in this house and would doubtless die in this house, and yet he still felt as if there were secrets here to be unearthed, far from the madding crowd. Oh, he enjoyed the company of his acquaintances and relatives well enough, but he also savoured the long hours reading his books and writing, dreaming and imagining, inventing and exploring. His was a restless spirit, and there were few people whom he felt could truly keep pace with him. There were also very few people who truly embraced all the interests that he had. Those few that did were very special, very close...and for the pursuit of those interests, with those few kindred spirits, then the mansion was the perfect locale.<br><br>His great-grandfather had been a wealthy politician nearly a century ago and had built this house to escape the pressures of court and parliament in London as the kingdom began to change. Parliamentary reform had changed the political landscape, and so the Right Honourable Lord Chalfont had sought refuge in the Suffolk countryside, close enough to the centre of the power when required, but far enough away to disappear. The mansion was very much a labour of love, designed quite simply and symmetrically to stand proud on the hill above the small hamlet of Kersey below, yet shrouded by young trees to give it a sense of detachment. In time, the trees would provide a genuine shield to the world, and already by the time Simon had inherited the house from his father, the roofs of Kersey were barely distinguishable from the uppermost rooms. The mansion was whitewashed and had a small wing on each side. It was not enormous, but was deceptively spacious inside with an ornate entrance hall and main staircase and several large reception rooms. A maze of corridors added to the impression of space and scale.<br><br>As a boy, Simon had loved running through the whole house, exploring the attic rooms, counting the main rooms and nervously mapping the labyrinthine cellar rooms, many of which had been locked and bolted for reasons he had never felt brave enough to ask about. Yes, this mansion had concealed many secrets from the young man, but the older man, who poured his tea and sat down to read the day's paper, had discovered many things subsequently. He heard the crunch of footsteps on the large circular gravel forecourt outside the front door, and espied the gardener going about his business. <br><br>The house had a long meandering driveway that snaked through the trees to the left of the front entrance, leading to the track that led down to the main road into the village and civilisation. The stable block was off to the right, and there were various outhouses dotted around the five acre grounds that ringed the mansion, some of it forest, some of it arable land and the rest meadows and lawns. <br><br>Yes, Simon thought to himself, it was good to be able to have room, space and time to think, to breathe...and to indulge his passions untrammelled.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 01:36:22</strong>
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				It took Katie a good hour to photograph the magnificent monstrosity that was the front of the house. Small flakes of whitewash clung to the face, sagging windows and doorways were choked with vines, and moss. The house looked defeated by time, the front steps sagging, and at one point, the roof having caved in. She had to see the inside. A thrilling chill raced up her spine as she stepped into the empty doorway, and began to explore, snapping photos every ten steps. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled, and every turn she took, Katie was convinced a hanging specter waited. She hummed to herself, as she continued through the house, mindful of stray nails or rotted floorboards. She didn't dare stairs, fearing she would fall through, or get stuck. <br><br>One turn brought her into a once-opulent room. Wallpaper had long since yellowed, and peeled, and was now dissolving, moldy streaks left in its path. Litter carpeted the floor, from squatters and teens, and a stench of excrement continued the theory of squatters. "Dear god it's creepy in here," she whispered to herself, turning back towards the door. She paused, frowning slightly. Beside the doorway was a large... something, covered by an old moth-bitten rug. Her curiosity piqued, Katie stepped forward. Biting her bottom lip, she reached out, her fingers grasping the slimy rug, and pulling it off, before scrubbing her hands against her jeans. <br><br>Looking up, Katie gasped, and whirled, to inspect the room. She turned back, to stare at the old, huge, polished mirror. It looked as good as new, and what was more, the room reflected in it looked good as new. Katie stepped forward, frowning, and glancing over her shoulder. How in the world was it done? It was a mirror, turning this way or that revealed different sections of the room. "What in the world..." She muttered, reaching out to brush her fingers cautiously against the surface.<br><br>As she pulled back, she was brought to an abrupt halt. She couldn't pull her fingers away from the mirror. "What?" She gasped, eyes widening, as she pulled herself back, yanking her arm. But she was caught, and slowly, the mirror pulled her in, her fingers disappearing into the quicksilver facade millimeter by millimeter. <br><br>She screamed, fighting, thrashing as she was agonizingly slowly dragged in. Her sneakers shrieked against the wet floor as she pulled back, grunting with effort. And within minutes, Katie was gone, as if she'd never been there at all.<br><br>She fell onto a plush carpet, the breath in her body escaping with an 'oof'. She gasped, unable to pull air into her lungs for a moment. But finally, she dragged in a gulp of air, and looked up - to the room that was in the mirror. "No... where...?" She gasped, staring, shocked. And then she whirled, on her knees, searching for the mirror. And there it stood, reflecting the opulent room, with it's furnishings, and a very shocked, out of place young woman. "What? NO!" She screamed, pressing against the hard, ordinary surface, her palm striking it. "NO! LET ME BACK!" She screamed.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 18:01:21</strong>
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				As he sipped his tea, Simon's mind wandered away from the paper and off into space, back in time. Something about the gardener's footsteps had triggered a memory, of when he had been a boy, playing through the rooms while staying with his grandfather. What <em>was </em>it? He frowned...<br><br>It had been something that he had overheard one of the maids talking about with the housekeeper, as he played hide and seek from his nanny. A mysterious female voice had been heard in one of the outhouses, according to the gardener, and one evening there had been the scrunch of footsteps outside, a strangled cry. The maid had suggested that Lord Chalfont had a mistress locked away, but then nobody had seen anyone come or go for weeks at that time, because of the harsh winter, the heavy rain and the impassable roads. So how had anyone reached the house on the hill...? Simon had been transfixed by this tale, but when his nanny had arrived, the maid had made herself scarce and he never heard anything more about it. Within a week, the maid had been dismissed.<br><br>As a result, Simon had developed various fantasies about this mysterious woman, and it had fuelled his imagination as to what lay behind several of the locked doors throughout the house. He chuckled to himself. Of course, now he knew what lay behind those doors...so maybe the maid had been on to something indeed. In view of this fact, Simon had been very careful in his selection of staff for the house, by selecting people he knew well from his 'extracurricular' activities, as he liked to phrase it.<br><br>He stood up then, feeling a sudden urge to get something to eat with his tea, some toast perhaps. As he approached the door, he paused to wipe a dusty finger mark from the face of the large mirror positioned close to the door. Curious, he thought, as the mirror had been polished just the other day. He frowned. No matter.<br><br>As he was cutting two large hunks of bread in the kitchen, there was a sudden roaring sound, followed by a crash. It sounded to all the world like a thunderstorm, which came and went in an instant. Simon put the knife down and could swear that he had heard a woman's voice crying out. He shook his head in bewilderment. Before he had time to start working on a logical explanation for this, a woman's voice cried out this time very clearly. "NO! LET ME BACK!" <br><br>It was coming from the sitting room!<br><br>Grabbing the knife, Simon rushed back into the hallway and burst into the sitting room to find a beautiful blonde-haired girl dressed in strange clothes, pushing in desperation against the mirror, leaving dusty fingerprints all over the surface. She whirled to face him as he entered, knife in hand.<br><br>'And what, pray, do you think you are doing in here?' he asked, caught somewhere between surprise and excitement. <br><br>Could it really be true, after all this time...?
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 18:11:55</strong>
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				She froze, as she heard a man's voice sound from behind. Katie whirled, gaping for a moment at him, before she saw the knife. "Holy shit!" She yelped. he was in the doorway, and spare diving through the window, there was no way out. "Where the hell am I?" She demanded, stumbling away from the knife-wheeling man. She bumped into the mantle, and her hand began to grope for the poker she'd seen laying across it. As her fingers curled around cold iron, she brought it forward, brandishing it like a sword. "What the fuck just happened?" She added, her eyes dancing between him and the mirror.<br><br>Her heart raced in her chest, and the tip of the fire poker waved with her shivering. She was swearing a blue streak, though not uncommon, it was not the type of language she used with strangers. She couldn't even to begin to guess what had happened to her, why the room was clean, and who he was. It was too much, too big for her mind to comprehend, so instead she focused on the very real, very understandable danger of a man with a knife.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 21:57:47</strong>
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				She was very striking looking, Simon noted, and with spirit too, evidenced by the way she had skilfully grabbed the poker in her agitation. But where, indeed, had she come from? Why had she been frantically pawing all over the mirror? He remembered reading something in his father's papers now, about the mirror...But in the heat of the moment, faced by an intruder, albeit a very cute one, wielding his poker, he could not recall what it had been. But it took some audacity to break into a house like this in broad daylight - foolhardiness, for sure, but audacity all the same.<br><br>'Well, I would suggest that what has just happened is that you broke into my house,' Simon replied evenly, holding the woman's gaze. 'And I will repeat, what <em>I </em>would like to know is what the <em>fuck </em>you are doing in my house?' It was quite amusing to hear a woman use such coarse language. It was really not the done thing, even if she <em>were </em>a thief.<br><br>He could see how startled she was, and so, carefully, not taking his eyes off the girl, he slowly bent down and placed the knife on the carpet. He stood up again and opened his palms to her, in a gesture of calmness, although his brain was racing. His eyes, like a hawk's, never leaving her face.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>24-11-2010, 16:15:01</strong>
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				"This isn't anybody's house! It's been abandoned for years! Geoff said! It's covered in mold, and rotting, and your wallpaper's... supposed to be peeling..." She replied, trailing off as she gestured to the pristine wall. "I'm hallucinating. Its the only explanation. There's some... weird-assed English mold that's sending out hallucinogenic spores." She didn't let go of the poker, as he put his knife down, but she did relax her hold, allowing the tip to hit the carpet with a light thud. "He's not real, and I just need to get out of this house and call a cab, and keep going." It sounded like an excellent plan to her, but she was still wary to approach him. He had a knife, even if it was laying on the carpet. It would be nothing to swoop down and grab it up.<br><br>Katie didn't trust her hallucination. It had a knife, and it looked... curious, but affronted. She watched him carefully, eyebrows furrowed, knees slightly bent, waiting for him to move, speak. Do something. What could her hallucinogen-influenced mind come up with for her dashing, older hallucination. Who, were he real, would actually be quite attractive. She'd never really gone for many older guys, spare Bruce Willis, but he seemed to fit her category of 'Hot Older Man'.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>24-11-2010, 20:32:59</strong>
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				Simon noted that his decision to lay down the knife had only partially assuaged the girl's agitation, because she had not released the poker. Mind you, he'd not expected her to, if truth be told. As mysterious as her presence in the sitting room was, he admired her spirit; it spoke to the side of him that relished a challenge.&nbsp; And she really was quite lovely, he decided, even if her attire was somewhat...<em>unusual</em>. Something truly exotic...<br><br>But he was utterly bemused by what she was talking about in, what he realised now, was a North American accent. He had never been across the Atlantic, but he had studied Classics with a woman from Ontario at Oxford; and unless he were very much mistaken, the intruder might very well hail from the same neck of the woods. Curiouser and curiouser, thought Simon.<br><br>'As you can see,' he replied calmly, a soft smile gliding across his face, 'this is not an abandoned house. Indeed, it belongs to me,' he said gesturing to himself. He then stepped back, to the side of the knife, indicating his intention to leave the blade on the floor, and carefully leaned his body against the wall to the side of the door, his hands behind his back. 'And I'm pretty sure that the walls were decorated just a year or so ago before I moved in permanently.' He noted the somewhat curious expression on her face, and wondered, indeed, if she had taken some sort of opiate. It would certainly explain her agitation. Surreptitiously, his fingers reached for the small white button that was now poking into the small of his back.<br><br>'I don't wish to labour the point, but I really do think you owe me an explanation as to how you come to be standing in my sitting room, threatening me with my own poker.'<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>24-11-2010, 22:19:32</strong>
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				"I told you." She replied, frowning even more deeply, and&nbsp; moving to the side, stepping to her left as he leaned to her right. "I came in the front door of this house. And it can't <em>belong</em> to you because you do not exist." She added, wishing he would just go away so she could leave. She didn't dare glance away to check her cell phone. "I walked in the front door, and into this room. And that mirror did something and now everything looks brand spankin' new. The mold is hallucinogenic, that's all. Now will you kindle leave so I can?" She finished, tightening her grip on the poker, again. <br><br>"Also," She added. "I'm not threatening you. This is for defensive purposes only."
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 00:29:11</strong>
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				Simon noted the tightening of her grip on the poker again, but made no move to react. She had mentioned the mirror again. <em>The mirror</em>. Those dusty fingerprints that appeared out of nowhere; the mysterious girl who had been heard during his grandfather's day...and now this delightful intruder who seemed to have appeared out of thin air in those few moments when Simon had left the room. He glanced across at it now, wondering, starting now to believe in the things he had heard...he couldn't explain it, but perhaps he didn't need to. For the moment, it had ceased to matter <em>where </em>she was from; paramount was solely that she was here <em>now</em>.<br><br>'I'm afraid you are very much mistaken. It <em>does </em>belong to me, and so you are trespassing.' He looked at her levelly now, trying to ascertain her reaction, since she seemed deeply convinced that she alone was real. Whatever drug ishe might indeed have taken, it was certainly powerful. 'I do not take too kindly to having my privacy invaded like this, and certainly not to having my own implements brandished at me, defensively or no.'<br><br>At last he heard the sound of footsteps on the tiled hallway floor, and within moments his butler, Evans, appeared in the doorway alongside him. 'You rang, sir?' he enquired, before suddenly spotting the girl holding the poker, now looking more startled than ever. 'What...?' his butler started, incredulously.<br><br>Simon smiled at his servant, a rather enigmatic smile. 'Evans, it seems that we have an uninvited guest this morning, who rather intriguingly insists that I do not exist. I think we need to teach her some manners, don't you?'
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 14:48:31</strong>
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				"Well if I'm trespass, allow mt to un-trespass." Katie replied, almost exasperatedly. "I want to leave but you are in the way." She added, as the sound of footsteps sounded in the hallway. She tensed, and grabbed hold of the poker with both hands, brandishing it like a baseball bat. That she was much more comfortable with - She'd played a few years while she was younger. As the next man appeared, she frowned harder, deep lines creasing her forehead. But at the first man's change in tone, her jaw dropped. Were they.. Was that tone <em> lascivious</em>? "So help me if you two touch me, or even one of you do, hallucinations or not, I will shatter your kneecaps." She threatened, her voice dropping an octave, deadly serious. <br><br>"Just let me go, and nobody will get hurt." She added. All she wanted was to call a cab, call the Fletcher house, and go back to the hotel to sleep it off. Maybe go to a doctor as well for a check. This hallucination was eerily real seeming. But it was impossible. Katie refused to even entertain the idea that it could be true. She didn't dare. Because if it was real, then somehow she was somewhere else, maybe even somewhen else, and the men who'd she just threatened to hobble for life were perhaps her only chance of getting back.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 16:32:22</strong>
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				The girl had great spirit, and Simon was feeling more and excited at the opportunity that had presented itself, sparked by...well, what? It was not something he could truly explain, but then he had experienced numerous times strange phenomena and coincidences that were hard to pin down logically. And whatever good fortune had presented him with this beautiful woman, it was something to embrace fully, without equivocation. He really did not want to hurt her at all, but she was going to need to be calmed down, by some means or other.<br><br>'We don't want to hurt you,' he said then, watching her steadily with his pale blue eyes, 'but I'm not sure we can help you either if you don't put that thing down. Whatever has brought you here, I cannot begin to imagine, for I am beginning to sense that you are really something of a stranger here.' He paused a moment, to allow her to reflect upon his words, and what they meant. 'And I think you are trapped here...'<br><br>He signalled to Evans to move into the room, and he began circling warily around the girl to a position where she would find it hard to catch both of them with her weapon. 'I would really rather you put the poker down now.'
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 18:54:05</strong>
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				"That's bullshit!" Katie yelled in reply, refusing to believe his words, although deep down inside she believed them. "You're not real! This isn't real! I'm just dreaming, or hallucinating! Go away, and I'll go away, too!" She continued, her voice almost taking on a pleading tone. She pressed her back against the wall, adjusting her grip on the poker, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two. "Just leave me alone. Please." She didn't want to swing. Not while he sounded rational. Even though a moment ago he had sounded as if he planned to rape her to teach her 'manners'. It had changed. She didn't want to swing the poker at them, and furthermore, she didn't know if she could. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 20:34:17</strong>
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				The despair in her voice struck a chord with Simon, but it also made him feel ever more in control of this unexpected situation. The girl appeared to be slowly realising that her predicament was desperate, far more so than she had imagined at first. There would be a fascinating tale to tell, for certain, but not at the moment.<br><br>The priority for now was to disarm her, and then get her out of sight, to give him time to work out what to do. He couldn't very well have this girl running around here like this, drawing unwanted attention to the place by virtue of her exotic, inexplicable origins. But he was full of conflicting emotions too. Her desperation made him feel, well, protective of her almost, as odd as that sounded, even to him! He motioned for Evans to stop, to back up to the doorway, and then turned to the girl.<br><br>'Why don't you put that down and come and have some tea with me? My name's Simon, by the way. What's yours? he asked, smiling.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 20:46:06</strong>
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				As the two backed off, Katie's poker slowly descended to hit the floor softly, dangling loosely in her hand. "What guarantee do I have that you aren't going to hurt me?" She asked softly. All she wanted to do was to call a god damned cab and get back to the Hospital. She didn't want tea, and she didn't want to know his name. Nor did she offer it, even as he asked. She bit her bittom lip, and reached into her jeans pocket with her free hand, pulling out her phone to check for signal, and dial the cab company. She frowned, however. There was no signal. Or time. It just dully showed her background picture. It was as if she were in an underground tunnel, or her phone was on airplane mode. "Why is there no signal?" She asked herself, before looking up to them. There was signal here before. Maybe the satellite had gone the wrong way or something. "Do you have a phone I could use?" She asked.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 20:58:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Simon's words seemed to have had some effect, but he did not expect her to relax for one iota. When she pulled a strange small, rectangular object form her pocket, about the size of a small book, Simon hesitated. Was it some sort of weapon? But the way that she looked at it made him realise it was quite harmless. But what <em>was </em>it? There really was no way he could let her go; she was one mystery after another. A rather gorgeous, very valuable mystery, come to that. <br><br>The impression of this was heightened by the way she spoke. 'A signal for what? What's a phone?' Simon shook his head, trying hard not to look as bemused as he felt by what she was talking about. 'I just thought you might like some tea while we try to figure out where you came from and what we're going to do. You say you're not a thief, OK, I am prepared to believe you. But the fact remains that you did break into my house.... somehow.' He paused, watching her reaction. 'Please,' he said gesturing to the chair at the table overlooking the lawn, 'sit down.'
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 21:05:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"A phone? A telephone, What is this, 1400?" She asked, before looking at the other man suspiciously. She walked to he chair, dragging the poker behind her, and sat down heavily, staring at her cell-phone. "I didn't break into your house!" She insisted. "It's abandoned. And you're not real. Fuck, that means that any phone lines in here won't work. Dammit." She drug the poker up, and across her lap, ignoring the soot stains it drug across her jeans. She sighed, and looked up at him. "What the hell is going on? You're a figment of my subconcious, right? So explain to me why you look like you live in like... 1787?" She asked. "And I'm not eating anything you give me. That will just poison me more." She added.<br><br>She slumped forward, leaning on her elbows in the table, and pushed her hair behind her thrice pierced ears. "Maybe I should just walk down to the road, and flag down a car. Do people hitch hike in Europe?" She mused to herself. She couldn't remember if there were hitch-hiking axe murderers, or rapists in England or whether that was an America thing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 21:22:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was apparent that the gentle approach had done little to allay the woman's fears, as she walked over to the table, muttering about things he didn't understand. He'd read in the <em>Times </em>recently about some inventor - Bell or someone - who had been talking about a machine that could transmit voices, but that was surely not possible. However, and this was the very exciting thought, if this girl had come from.... He shook his head again, but this time in wonder. It really was starting to ring bells with him, about something he had found in his grandfather's papers.<br><br>As she persisted in her talk about him being a figment of her imagination again, Simon looked carefully at her. For all her agitation, she didn't seem to be intoxicated; on the contrary, she seemed very rational, if a little paranoid. But in the circumstances, she had good reason...and of course, he was not going to let her leave. As she leant onto the table and played with her hair, Simon carefully observed her face from closer to. She was very striking indeed, her light blue eyes very alert, very alive. He noted with delight her earrings. He had never seen a woman wear rings in her ears quite like that before, three small hoops, one of which was piercing the cartilage. It was highly unusual, and wonderfully exotic. He felt a tingle coursing him through him. She was going to be a pleasure to spend time with...<br><br>He poured a cup of tea for her, one final effort to calm her down, as she spoke again of strange items. A car? Hitchhiking?<br><br>'Well, this happens to be 1871, and I'm not sure you ought to be going anywhere until you have had some rest.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 21:29:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Katie dropped her hands and looked straight at him. :Care to repeat that" She asked softly, even as she pinched her forearm. It hurt. "She shook her head. "No. I'm crazy. It's not 1871." She said softly. "That's bullshit." She stood, knocking the chair back, the poker falling to the floor with a clang, and bolted. She pounded through the house, and bust out the door that shouldn't be there. She nearly fell face-first into the dirt walk, as she continued to run, through the bright day, past gardeners, past a perfectly maintained stable that should have been leveled. She ran until she tripped, which wasn't too far, and landed heavily on her knees, knocking the wind from herself. She choked, for the second time that day, tears springing to her eyes as she coughed, and struggled to draw in a breath. Her mind spiraled, as her vision began to cloud. It couldn't be 1871. There was no such thing as time travel. It was a dream. It was a hallucination... It would all be better when she woke up.... And with that, she slumped to the side, exhausted and unconscious.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 22:41:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sudden explosion of energy took both Simon and the butler by surprise, as the girl leapt to her feet, sending the chair and the poker crashing to the floor, and then sprinting for the door. Evans had not expected such swiftness and grasped at thin air as she raced past him, into the hall and out the front door.<br><br>'After her!' Simon shouted, running himself now for the door that the girl, and Evans, had just exited at top speed. She must not get into the woods, she must not get away! They could see her running towards the stables, and as Evans slowly began to gain ground on her, with Simon hot on his heels, they saw her stumble and fall heavily to the ground. There was a strange sense of conflicted emotion in him when he saw he hit the ground so hard. Initially, there was a sense of relief, mingled with triumph; that the woman would not elude him. But it was a triumphalism tinged with concern, that she should not be hurt. It was a very strange feeling for Simon; he wasn't sure he had felt it before. This woman, she really had made a deep impression upon him; it was a wonderful feeling.<br><br>As they reached her, they could see that she was out cold. The shock of realisation had clearly taken its toll, but in some ways, at least perhaps now, once she awoke, she might be able to start to confront the reality of her situation, as bizarre as it would seem to her. Simon gestured to the stables. 'Go and get some rope, would you? I don't think we ought to take any more chances, do you?' The Butler shook his head, a wry smile on his face. 'No, sir,' he replied. Simon carefully lifted the girl up off the gravel track and marvelled at how light she felt in his arms, as he carried her over to the stables. Her scent was unlike any he had ever smelt; it was delightful, so very different. Just as she was in <em>every </em>conceivable way.<br><br>He laid her down on some hay in one of the stalls, transfixed by her looks. As Evans began uncoiling the rope, Simon stroked some tear-stained strands of her hair from her eyes, before rolling her gently onto her front. Marvelling at the soft smoothness of her skin, he took her wrists in his hands and pulled them behind her back, taking the rope and skilfully binding her hands together. He coiled the rope carefully, but firmly, to ensure that, though tight, the rope would not hurt her. Well, as long as she did not try to struggle. He took a second length of rope and quickly secured her ankles together, before lifting her up and carrying her back into the house.<br><br>'Where will you take her, sir?' Evans asked, closing the door behind them in the hall.<br><br>'I think we'll put her in on of the guest bedrooms at the back of the east wing, at least for the moment. She'll be safely out of the way there for now, until we find out how compliant be can be.'<br><br>Simon carried her up the long sweeping staircase, that dominated the hallway, and then turned left at the top and carried her down along red-carpeted corridor to a heavy oak door with led to the back of the house. Once through there, the light was much darker. At the end of that corridor, he opened a door which opened out into a sumptuously furnished bedroom. The large bed dominated the room, with its ornately carved bedposts. The walls were decorated with a heavy red wallpaper and one each wall, there were prints of bucolic English scenes. There was a dressing table in one corner, a couple of chairs dotted around and a dark walnut armoire in the other corner. There was a small window that gave out onto the woods. It was not Simon's favourite room, but it was very quiet, very private.<br><br>He laid the woman carefully down on the bedclothes, and turned to go. Then he paused. Somehow, he sensed that this woman would need a little more securing. That spirit of hers was quite something! he went across to the armoire, opened the door and found the carved pine box where it should have been. He opened the lid and marvelled at the collection of items within. Hmmm, he thought, the fun I am going to have with her. He chuckled. For now, though, a set of slim steel shackles connected by a long chain would do nicely. He took them out, closed the lid of the box and shut the door of the armoire. returning to the bed, he slipped one of the cuffs around the girl's right ankle, and then attached the other to a metal ring fixed into the end of the bed frame. Just in case... He smiled, took one last look at his&nbsp; new captive, and then left the room, locking the door from the outside.<br><br>She would need to rest, hopefully for a long time, in order to be better able to contemplate her new life here. He would look in on her again in an hour or so. But for now, after all the excitement, he really <em>did </em>need some breakfast !<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 22:54:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was an hour, or two, before Katie began to stir. She'd slipped into a fitful sleep, after he'd left the first time, as her mind processed this new development. Dreams of clocks and mirrors, and blue eyes chased her. She groaned softly, trying to turn, before she was truly awake. The bindings stopped the movement, and she paused, waking fully. "What the..." It took her a moment to realize that she was tied up, and a few more to assess her surroundings, and that she was chained to the bed. She gaped, staring at the room. It wasn't a dream. They weren't hallucinations. It was real. It had to be. A hallucination couldn't move her. A hallucination disappeared if you slept. Without any ado, she began carefully wiggling her wrists within the firm rope bindings, and bite and pull the knot. She had it undone within minutes, and her ankles even faster. The shackle, however, was a different matter. There was no key to be found. <br><br>Katie carefully climbed off the foot of the bed, to investigate where it was fastened, and what to. But the ring was just as immovable as the shackle itself. She was stuck, unless she could find something to pick it with. A friend had once shown her how, years ago. She set to searching the room within her reach, for pins, anything that would be useful, ignoring the way the chain scraped over the floor. She wanted out, and she wanted away. She rubbed her wrists absently, as she searched, but to no avail. Defeated, she sat heavily on the bed, and scrubbed her hands over her face, fighting the prickling in the back of her eyes. She would not cry. She could get home. Somehow. If she could get through a mirror, once, she could do it again, couldn't she?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>26-11-2010, 18:37:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Something had told Simon that this woman had great spirit and resourcefulness. He had pondered the rather bizarre events over breakfast, and instructed his butler to ensure that news of the stranger was not spread beyond the estate. At least, not for the while...He would need to come up with some explanation for her appearance; but first, he would need to try to ascertain for himself how she had ended up here. It was something to do with the mirror, that much was certain.<br><br>But when he had unlocked the bedroom door, entered with a tray of bread, cheese and ham together with a jug of orange juice, and found his captive no longer bound, rather than feel annoyed, he smiled broadly. More fool him for going easy on her; he wouldn't let sentiment get in the way the next time. In fact, she had thrown down a gauntlet that he would only too happily pick up. At least, he understood now why instinct had told him that he really ought to make sure that the stranger was not going to get away. Mind you, he thought, seeing her sitting on the bed, head in hands, he was sure she'd already been looking for ways to slip the steel round her ankle. It was good to know that cuffs could hold her...He noted that carefully, because he could not let this woman get away. It was also good to note that, for the moment at least, she would need to be watched <em>very </em>carefully indeed.<br><br>She looked up suspiciously at his entrance, and he gave her his warmest smile. 'Good! I hope you feel better for your rest. I've brought you some breakfast because you have had quite a shock, and you must be ravenous.' He put the tray down on the floor, picked up a small table and brought it across to the bed and then placed the tray on the table in front of her. He then took one of the chairs, and moved it to sit opposite her. Not too close, but close enough to watch her carefully.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-11-2010, 18:48:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Katie tracked him with her eyes, as the door opened, watching him walk past, and set up some food for her. It wasn't a dream. She was in 1871. Was she ever going to get back home? Would she ever see her family? Her friends? She would settle for that bitch Alanna in the office. She eyed the food, as he settled into his chair to watch her, and sighed. It had been a while since breakfast, and the ham smelled delicious. But she didn't feel like eating. It felt like everyone had died. And now she was held captive by this ridiculous man who had chains on his bed, and who had tied her up. She turned away, refusing to look at him. <em>You have to eat</em> a soft voice sounded from in her mind. With a sigh, she tore the piece of bread in two, and set to making herself a sandwich with the ham and cheese. One surly glance at him, and she bit in, chewing slowly and swallowing the mouthful, before going for the second piece. She wasn't eating as if she were starving, but he had likely never seen a woman eat with a purpose before. She wanted to finish so he would go away. She hoped he was just waiting for the tray.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>27-11-2010, 22:03:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman had made it clear that she was not especially enamoured of his presence, but it was something she was going to have to get used to. He wondered if she had started to come to terms with where and <em>when </em>she was, even if she was not going to accept that she was to all intents and purposes his prisoner. It was certainly going to be challenge to win the confidence of this strong-willed woman, let alone tame her. But the fat also remained that if she were to escape and get out into the community at large, in all likelihood she would find herself in much deeper trouble. What is more, she would have no chance of getting back to where she had come from. Where- and <em>when</em>ever that might be.<br><br>'It's good to see you eating,' he said gently, as scowled at him, before tucking into the second sandwich. 'Do you feel better for your sleep? I'm sorry for the rope and chains, but they really are for your own safety, you know.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 17:15:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Katie couldn't help the snort of disbelief as he told her the ropes were for her own good. She highly doubted that. There was no ways he'd be running off, though. The mirror was here, and that was the only possible way she could get home. That was the only explanation for his tying and chaining her. He didn't want her leaving, though if she remained chained to the bed, the mirror may as well have been a million miles away. As she polished off the food, and finished the juice, she sat back on the bed, planting her socked feet on the mattress and pushing herself a far away from the tray, and him, as she could. She didn't reply to him. Refused to even look. She needed to think. Find a way out of the chains, and back through the mirror. What had set it off? Why had it brought her here? And why was her captor so intent on keeping her around? Why would he go through the trouble of chaining her up? What did he want with her?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 20:10:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				So she was going to give him the silent treatment, was she? Well, so be it. He couldn't blame her, he supposed, since he was holding her prisoner, and his suggestion that keeping her bound and locked up for her won good probably did sound a little unlikely. But what she could not know was how terribly, even violently, superstitious the locals were. To have a stranger dressed as curiously as she was wandering around would in all likelihood get her into serious trouble.<br><br>But, of course, he had his ulterior motives too. For Simon had a reputation to maintain, a procurer of beautiful young women for those elements in Victorian England who had a penchant for activities that should remain, as it were, below stairs. He had been approached while at Oxford, by a middle-aged gentleman of independent means who had known Simon's grandfather and been to the house many times. A little 'social circle', as he had put, had included his grandfather, and it had been felt that Simon might be a suitable member, if his proclivities ran in the same direction. <br><br>Simon had been unconvinced, until he had attended a private club in London and been utterly captivated by what he had seen. He had never realised that so many women had such perverted cravings, to be objectified in the ways that the 'social circle' seemed committed to 'explore'. As a result, he had quickly proved himself to be very adept after he had been shown the ropes, so to speak, and he had not looked back. When he had inherited the mansion, well, it had quickly proved itself to be the perfect location for the circle's activities on a regular basis.<br><br>So, when such an exotic beauty as this fell into his sitting room, as it were, lost and alone, possibly with no chance of returning whence she came, then perhaps he could find a way of... He smiled to himself. Besides, she was very beautiful, and spirited....and he was very enraptured by her presence. He had seen noble, high-spirited women melt before once they had been bound, been able to relinquish the need to be strong and self-sufficient, and to surrender to being the centre of attention. It had surprised him how many strong women harboured such fantasies of being possessed, of being taken...<br><br>'Will you at least tell me your name, fair lady?'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 20:20:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The side of Katie's lip curled in almost a snarl. He sounded so pandering, so greasy, almost like a crooked used car salesman. In reply she held up the middle finger of her left hand in his general direction. She knew, in the back of her mind, that it was stupid to be acting so petulant, but she couldn't help it. He embodied her loss of everything, and there was no way in hell that she would be playing nice. She had lost everyone, and everything, from her mother to big macs. It was all she could do not to start crying in front of it. She was trying not to think of it. Trying to be angry at him so she didn't think to hard on how she'd lost everything, and how her eyes prickled and her lower lip pouted out. "Bastard." She muttered, trying to refocus. All she wanted was for him to go and leave her in peace to cry. She would never cry in front of him. He probably didn't even understand how it was to care for people, if what she knew about the 1800s was any hint. He'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted, without even having to try.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 20:33:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The hand gesture meant nothing to him <em>per se</em>, but its intent was clear, of barely concealed hostility. The confirmation came with her muttered obscenity in his direction. He smiled sadly and shrugged his shoulders. She had rebuffed every attempt to ease the tension, to help her to try to appreciate at least part of what she was going to have to come to terms with. He wanted to trust her...and ultimately, for her to trust him...<br><br>'Well, I shall tell you my name, at the very least, so that you can channel all your anger and hatred more directly. I'm Simon, Simon Chalfont, and this is my home. I do not know how you got here, and since you won't talk to me, I cannot help you ascertain quite what this all means.'<br><br>He looked at her kindly, his own emotions in turmoil when he considered what must be her anguish. 'Look,' he said standing up and taking the tray in his hand,' perhaps I should leave you alone to rest some more. And when I return, perhaps I can take you for a walk round the house...?'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 20:40:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She really couldn't bring herself to care for his name. Katie crossed her arms, and studiously stared at the wall furthest from the door. She prayed with every ounce of her being that he just leave. Leave fast, and then she could try to barricade the door, and cry herself out. But there was no way in hell she would do it in front of him. Her entire body screamed silently at him, from the deep scowl crossing her features to how tightly her arms were crossed to her chest. She was making it as obvious as she could without words that he was in no way welcome. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 20:52:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simon was beginning to think that there would be no way to get to know this woman, and he sighed deeply. He paused as he got to the door, and turned to see the woman glaring furiously at him arms firmly crossed across her chest. he'd already resolved that perhaps the last thing he could try, would be to remove the cuff round her ankle. Putting the tray on a table by the door, he walked carefully over to the bed, seeing her tense at his approach. To allay her fears about him wanting to assault her physically, he spread his palms wide.<br><br>'I'm going to take this cuff off you, Ok?. He reached into his pocket and took the key, and carefully slipped it into the small lock, releasing her ankle. 'The door is going to be locked, and it's a long drop out of the window, so I wouldn't advise anything adventurous.'<br><br>He looked at her one last time, trying to divine what was racing behind those eyes of hers, before turning and walking to the door. Taking the tray, he slipped out of the room, carefully locking the door behind him.<br><br>He was fairly certain that she would not heed his words, and do everything she could to slip out of the window. But he felt, in that moment, that fate would now have to intercede. Fate may have brought her here for a reason - and his emotions whirred at that thought - but maybe fate would have other plans for her. For now, Simon resolved to return to the sitting room and look through his father's papers, for something was nagging at his memory with ever greater urgency.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 21:10:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Katie was strung tight as a bowstring, by the time he'd shut the door. In a grand total, her face was buried in a pillow and she began to sob. For her mother, her best friend, her cat. Everything. Even Big Macs. She cried herself exhausted, and again, fell asleep. It was two hours later, when she woke up, that she could think again. She had to stay here. He was unlikely to let her go, and in truth, she was more than likely safe here. He hadn't started spouting bible passages at her, nor had he tried to kill her for being a witch or some nonsense. She doubted she would fare as well with large concentrations of people about. But she didn't trust him, and she did not want to stay in this room. <br><br>He'd cautioned against climbing out the window, so of course, that was the first thing to try. She'd seen a stable, and that meant horses. Not to mention she was fairly certain cars hadn't been invented yet. All her life, whenever she was upset, grooming a horse would help. The rhythmic movements, the great beast's calming presence always made her relax, made her feel better. She'd stayed in her friend's barn overnight when her grandmother had died. <br><br>It was easy to open the window. She hung out, surveying the outside of the house, to see if she could find hand and footholds. It was possible, though it would not be easy. Without ado, she stripped the bed, which she was fairly certain was actually built into the wall, and began to tie the sheets together. Double larkshead knots, to keep from slipping, and she tied on end carefully to the bed, wedging the knot and sheet between the bed frame and mattress, before throwing it out the window. She still had about a three meter drop, but she could deal with that when she got there. And if all else failed and she fell and died? Well, it was unlikely she would be sad about anything, then.<br><br>It was a workout, and a slow one, carefully rappelling down the side of the house, with the sheet carefully wrapped around her midsection. But she made it to the end of the sheet with no real issues, spare sore arms. She carefully walked her way to the side on the house, and got a foothold on a windowsill on the first floor, before the sheet began to rip. It took her a heartbeat of panic to grab onto the windowsill, and lever herself on properly, before letting the sheet drop to angle down the outside of the house. Then it was the relatively simple - if shaky and terrifying -&nbsp; matter of crouching and getting herself from the windowsill to the ground.<br><br>She swore as she made the impact, knees soft, and ended up on her face. She didn't knock the wind out of herself, however, and stood up after a moment. She'd hurt her ankle though not badly. Katie sighed, and turned, to start the limp to the stable. He would find her eventually, once she felt better, and was ready to conduct herself like a human being, again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 21:46:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simon had been up twice to check on her, and was delighted that she had been asleep. He had been tempted to simply sit and watch her breathing easily and peacefully, drinking in her beauty when her features weren't distorted by fear, hatred or rage, but had been worried that she might awaken and be startled as to any possibly lascivious motives. And so he had withdrawn quietly and returned to his reading. <br><br>What he had vaguely remembered was not in the folder that he had stored in his father's old study. Where <em>was </em>it then? It had struck a chord because of his boyhood memory of overhearing the maid, and the mystery woman, and something his father had written about it subsequently, upon his father's death.<br><br>he had been quite absorbed in digging through the papers, that he suddenly realised that two hours had elapsed since he'd left the woman the first time. As he opened the door of the room, he saw the sheet tied to the bedframe, trailing out of the window. His first thought was to dash out of the door; but something told him there was no need. He'd known she would do this once he'd taken the cuff off. Well, if his home was the source of her entry into the world, then it was doubtless her only route back...but if she had failed to heed his advice then so be it. It was out of his hands. He imagined her running full pelt down the hill into Kersey and being led off to some unimaginable fate, and then regretting that she'd not listened.<br><br>Perhaps he should go after her? He had three chestnut brown horses in his stables, and at full gallop could be in the village in ten minutes. No, he decided, there was no point and might only draw further unwanted attention to her plight, and he did not wish to do that, nor have people poking their noses into his affairs in general. He resolved to return to looking through his father's papers, and to wait and see what happened.<br><br>It was always possible she had just gone into the grounds to think things through, and would return of her own accord. If she were not back by nightfall, still seven hours away, perhaps he might slip into the village and see if she had been spotted.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 22:18:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Katie breathed softly, as she entered the building. She was surprised there was no attendant, but guessed that he would have other jobs as well. She whispered softly, as she approached the three occupied stalls. "Hello," She crooned softly, as three similar faces came out to investigate. She ducked into the tack room, to find a sack of oats. The stable was luxurious, the loft filled with sweet smelling hay. "At least he treats his horses well." She muttered to herself, as she scooped out two handfuls of oats. She offered them, flat handed, to the first two horses, softly promising a handful to the third. She delivered, as soon as the first two finished. She spent equal time between the three, whispering, and crooning to them, petting their necks, and letting their presence heal her, to a point. Given the choice, she would sleep in here for weeks. She would be discovered, though. <br><br>Eventually she let herself into the middle stall with the smallest of the three. With a curry and a hair comb, she began to scrub the gelding's immaculate coat, humming softly to herself, and blinking back tears. He leaned into the brush, whickering softly, as she began to sing, her voice carrying the tune, though nothing special. It was the song from <em>Firefly</em>. She wished she knew the full version, but it would do. This was going to be her serenity, until she could go home. In the stable, brushing out the horse's and being alone with them. She wasn't going to run. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>29-11-2010, 18:45:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simon spent the early hours of the afternoon in the study, digging through folders of papers, letters and documents, searching in vain for the text he had hoped to find. Where could it be? If only he could remember <em>when </em>he'd seen it before, let alone where!<br><br>After a slightly belated lunch, he opted to take a post-prandial stroll through the gardens of the house, something he liked to do often, even when there was a chill in the air or it was raining. It was good to feel the different seasons directly; it made him feel very alive, as well as lucky that he had licence to roam in such an idyllic setting. He wandered along one of the paths that took him meandering into the woods at the back of the house, and his mind remained fixated on the strange visitor in his house. In particular, he was drawn to thoughts of her eyes, and the touch of her skin under his fingers when he had bound her. She was truly a thing of beauty; and resolve! He laughed out loud at that, wondering where her adventurous spirit had carried her. He felt a slight pang of concern that she might find herself embroiled in some mischief, but calmed himself a little with the thought that she could doubtless look after herself in <em>most </em>situations. He dared not contemplate anything too nightmarish...but she had taken it upon herself to flee, and she would have to deal...<br><br>The path eventually led him back to the house, just past the stables. As he approached the door, he heard one of his horses whinnying contentedly. Maybe he ought to go down to the village, just in case... As he stepped into the stables, he saw instantly the reason for the gelding's contentment. There, stroking his mane, was the woman, looking much more at ease he thought, and that warmed him. He could not conceal a smile, but of relief or joy? He wasn't too sure.<br><br>'I confess, I thought you might be halfway to London by now. I certainly didn't expect to find you here!'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-11-2010, 19:12:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Katie jumped, as the voice sounded behind her, and turned, eyes wide. Upon recognizing the speaker, however, she turned back around, to continue brushing down the curried gelding within the embrace of his neck. "I'm not stupid." She replied. "If I went to London I would be dead in a month." She added. He fed her, here. And he had the mirror. She could no more leave here than go home. She didn't need to worry about the streets, food and jack the ripper, though she wasn't exactly sure when he reigned his terror. She sighed, leaning her head on the gelding's neck as she continued to brush him in silence. Her ears were trained on the man behind her, now, and when he did not leave, she spoke again. <br><br>"You obviously don't want me leaving, though I don't know why. Regardless, I'm not keen on leaving, either." She kept it short, and to the point. She didn't trust him an inch, and the first knife she could get her hands on, she would keep on her person until she was good and gone in case he tried anything funny. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>josefk67</strong> on <strong>02-12-2010, 20:27:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman's agitation was understandable, and Simon wished he had been able to find a way to assuage her fears. She'd menaced him with his own poker, made a bid to escape that he thought he ought to prevent, and so he'd tied her up, mostly to keep her from harm; and then she'd got away anyway! It had been an eventful day for her in ways he could scarcely imagine.<br><br>'Of course I don't want you to leave! There is so much I would know about you, about where you come from. And you still haven't told me your name.' He paused, hoping that she might start to ease up a little, especially as she seemed to be taking comfort from grooming the horses. <br><br>'Besides, I don't think I've seen a more beautiful woman...and I hope that you're not being keen on leaving might mean...' He paused. suddenly uncertain of himself. His hesitation seemed to go on for an eternity. 'Well, it might mean that you will, at least, consent to join me for dinner.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Captive of Time (josefk67 and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>05-12-2010, 19:04:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Katie," she replied softly, as he again persisted for her name. What did it matter if he knew her name? She didn't know if she could tell him anything. She didn't dare. What if she told him about something dangerous, and un-made herself, like in <em>Back to the Future</em>? Katie didn't even dream of telling him. And then he invited her to dinner. At least he was nice about it. "As I doubt I will get food unless I do come to dinner... Sure, okay." She added, rolling her eyes. What if he slipped her something? Did they have roofies back then? Now? She shook her head, trying not to think of time. <br><br>Sh didn't believe for a moment that all he wanted from her was to assuage his curiosity. She didn't know what, but he wanted something. But then... maybe not. Maybe he was truly curious and just wanted to help her? But why? There was nothing in it for him. Where was the gain? Was he hoping to woo her into marriage? Why not just go find a wife in London? Was he unmarriable? It didn't matter any how. Her first chance, she would get back through the mirror and hopefully get the hell away from this hellhole.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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