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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 4 2018, 09:28 PM (24 Views) | |
| Kingsley Stone | Jan 4 2018, 09:28 PM Post #1 |
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Kingsley had had a good life. He wouldn't say it was outstanding, but it had been respectable. Oh, finding jobs had been tough, but between the five brothers, they had made do. It was just how it was, wasn't it? Paying for anything had felt like it should be taken from cold dead hands, but when didn't it? Kingsley figured that he shouldn't have complained because he had been able to go to school. A doctor, that was what he was going to be. All his brothers had planned to be something good – Kingsley as a doctor, Carlisle as a dentist, Hedley made noise about being an attorney, Prosper wanted to be an engineer of all things, Booker an electrician. The problem was that they were five men who would need school. Kingsley had never considered themselves poor before; it was just they never had money before either. They had just been...the Stones, they had made do. Unfortunately 'making do' meant giving up what they had all dreamed. Booker had managed to get through, but the rest of them? By the time they had gotten to Kingsley, he had only gotten so much schooling. He had only managed to learn so much before they had all looked at each other and said they weren't going to manage it after all. They would have to find something else, but everyone was trying to find something else. Sometimes, he was sure, they all thought life would be easier to separate themselves because one mouth was easier than five, but at the same time, he didn't think any of them could be alone. The five of them, well, they were family and if you couldn't be with your family in the darkest times, then when could you? But that had been when Hedley had come up with his grand idea. Go to America, he said. Hadn't they always heard about America? Granted, everyone had been scoffing, rolling their eyes over these people that seemed to think they were so much better. But America was the land of opportunity. Hedley had glared daggers at him when Kingsley had pointed out that if he hadn't heard, America was struggling just as much as they were. Hedley hadn't been deterred, he had somehow been more energized. America really was the land of opportunity, he said. He had spoken with some Americans that said while jobs were hard to come back if you went things the legal route, if you took a more illegal one you could be rolling in money. Hedley had glared even more at Kingsley when Kingsley had asked if America was so grand why were these people here? The problem was that everyone always wanted to do what Hedley wanted. It never failed. Hedley could tell them that they should jump off cliffs and he would be so animated about it, so vibrant about it that the more he talked, the more he waved his hands, the better the idea sounded. Hedley had always been able to do that. It had gotten them all into and out of scraps before and Kingsley was sure some of the money Hedley had brought home had been from people he charmed rather than worked for. Everyone always wanted to do what Hedley said, so they eventually found themselves going to America. It had taken a bit of setting up, poking in different places, but they had begun to learn. Booker brought them legitimate money to begin, Hedley and Prosper had been all charm and good nature and fostering of happy tides, and Carlisle and Kingsley had worked the logistics. Before too long they had begun making connections for bootlegging, though Kingsley had never realized you could make connections for that. Then again, with Prosper and Hedley at work, Kingsley was surprised they didn't have more of everything. It had taken them awhile, but they had found a house big enough for all five of them and their operations that hadn't been too expensive. And they had all worked and they had flourished to a certain extent. It was about then that Prosper had noticed the neighbors. He had pointed them out, Kingsley had looked and the next thing he knew Hedley was shoving him right in the bloody face. Hedley announced that they should go introduce themselves, after all it was only proper. Somehow Carlisle and Booker managed to get out of it, but no matter how much Kingsley said he wanted nothing to do with it, that he had work to do, he was dragged over. Hedley had been his usual charming self and for his efforts, he had gotten them a shot gun pointed right at the face and told to get. Hedley and Prosper had scuttled off faster, but Kingsley had stormed off, angry that this was the result of being dragged out. Maybe he should have been more worried about the shotgun, but there had been something that told him the woman didn't want to use it. Would she? Oh, most definitely, he didn't doubt that. Did she want to? Did anyone really want to? His bravery in the face of that, his "boring" nature as Hedley called it somehow made him perfect runner. Hedley sent him with a message, the woman (her name was Summer, he had heard other people call her) sent him right back with a shotgun and told they didn't want no bootleggers talking to them. Kingsley told his twin endlessly that Summer was never going to change her mind and they should respect that. They had their own work to do between making liquor and running it to the places that asked for it and pretending like they weren't doing just that. Why bother with romance that would never blossom? He was sure they would never have anything to do with their neighbors...and then one day, Summer had rushed over to their house. She had completely ignored Hedley, much to his annoyance, and gone right to Kingsley. Wes had been hurt, she said, and she didn't think he was going to make it to the hospital. Hedley liked to complain an awful lot of how hard it was to get Kingsley going, but this? He had been off in an instant, following after Summer and this time he was dragging Hedley along. The damage had been bad – how could it not be when he had been run over - and honestly, Kingsley hadn't been too sure that he could fix anything, much less everything. But he had worked, he had worked hard because he had seen Wes a few times between message carries and Wes had always been friendly enough. Sometimes Kingsley let himself think he was handsome enough. He didn't deserve to die. So he had worked and he had kept working and finally, finally they crossed the threshold where Kingsley felt he could relax. They had gotten him comfortable – not that he could really tell – and then Summer tried to chase them off again. It was a little softer now, but Hedley had still disappeared. Meanwhile, Kingsley had looked her right in the eye and said no. Wes was his patient, he wasn't going to wait around for Summer to come get him because something looked off only to realize they could do nothing. It had worked, maybe she respected it, maybe she just understood what he was saying. So that was how Kingsley found himself having a break. No listening to Hedley, no being bossed around by his brothers. He just got to sit around with someone who had mostly been asleep and got to read. |
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| Wesley Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:28 PM Post #2 |
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He was supposed to have gone to college. That thought was one that drummed through his head an awful lot, just about every day. He was supposed to go to college. He was supposed to be sitting in a classroom and learning. He was going to be a veterinarian. He was going to branch out into a field that was slowly growing every single year. He would help take care of horses and cows, sheep and pigs, and he would help people keep their entire livelihoods healthy and safe as best as he could. It was something that he had always wanted to do and it was something that would benefit his family and others as well. Then the entire world had collapsed around them. There was no college for Wes now. There was none of the same life that they had before. Honestly, it was a struggle to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table right now and that was with less mouths to pay for and to feed. It was a dismal sort of thing to think on. Parker was off to another state altogether, being a police officer of all things. He sent money back when he could, but he still had to pay for himself and survive out there on his own so the amount he sent back was never quite enough. Roy had run off and married a high class and fancy lady that had once had millions but, from Wes had gathered, had been hurt badly in the market crash. They'd had enough to set up their own business and it did well enough, but it wasn't enough to send piles of money back home. Law had run off to become a musician, claiming that if he broke into the scene there would be plenty of money. That certainly hadn't happened yet and he hardly ever had anything to send back home. Lori was still here with him, trying to keep the farm going. Their older cousin had gone off years ago to be a police officer and that left Summer as the oldest in charge. He knew it wore on his cousin, his sister, just as much as it wore on him. Summer had gone to college, though. She had learned to be a teacher and she still managed to work as one here and there. Lori had never wanted to go to college. She had just wanted to work with the horses. Wes, though, had wanted to go to college. He had wanted that education and his chance to make something of himself. With the way the world seemed to be going, it felt like that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon... if at all. Every morning it was up at dawn and out to tend to whatever needed tending to. There were crops to plant, to till, to fertilize, to keep an eye on, to harvest. There were horses to feed, brush and train. There were sheep that needed to be fed and cared for, to be moved to different pastures, to be sheared at the right time of year. It was a never ending cycle of work, work, work. He didn't mind work. He had never minded work - he had been raised with hard work ever since he was little - but he would have liked it so much more if it had been broken up with classes in between all of that hard work. He tried, at night, to read up on things but it wasn't the same. He didn't have the access to books that he once had and certainly not any new material that would give him some insight to some breakthrough in making their horses faster, stronger, better; in making their sheep produce more meat or wool or whatever someone wanted at the time. There was nothing he could do, though. He was stuck with what he had for an indeterminate amount of time. He never complained to his sister or his cousin, to his brothers when they called or wrote. What would he complain about and what could they say to him? He still had food and a roof over his head for now. That was better than most of the country and he knew it. So every morning he went out - sometimes with Summer, sometimes with Lori, sometimes with the few of the men that still helped work the farm for them or the few family members that still dropped in to help - and he worked until lunch. Depending on the day, he then either went back out to work until dinner or hopped up on a horse to run errands. There were always things to sell nowadays. Things to buy or trade. Sometimes, though people scoffed at it, he would help out with the house as well. It didn't get nearly enough attention as it once had and even just a cursory sweeping made it look marginally better... and there were always bits and pieces of the house to repair. Today he had been out in the fields, though. It was hot, hard, backbreaking work but it was also easy to get caught up in the rhythm of it. He had been letting himself do that. It had been easy to just lose himself in his thoughts, to not notice the noise. It had only been the frantic yelling that had gotten his attention and, by then, it was too late. He had just a moment to feel shock and horror before there was nothing but pain. There had been distinct moments that he remembered. He remembered Summer calling his name. He remembered Lori stroking his hair and telling him to hold on. He remembered distantly recognizing at some point that the people that lived down the road - good for nothing bootleggers, in Summer's words - were in the same room as himself, that Summer and Lori were hovering, and everything else was just a haze of pain, of passing in and out of consciousness. Well. Mostly. He remembered the one - Kingsley, Wes thought his name was, although he couldn't be sure since they had never really formally met - had come over to him with such a grim expression on his face, that he had been holding what looked like a pile of bandages, and that was about it. The rest was just... floating. It wasn't a painless floating. He doubted they had much in the way of medicine for him and even if they did they would want to ration it. The times where he wasn't awake weren't very restful, but they were better than when he drifted back into momentary consciousness. Everything hurt terribly then. This was one of those times. He wanted to hiss with pain with even just opening his eyes. He wanted to cry. Who got themselves run over by a plow? How did you not notice that coming at you? And how did someone not see you and stop in time? They couldn't afford to have Wes injured like this. He wasn't what kept everything going, but he was a cog in the wheel nonetheless. Things would be just a little bit harder than they already were now and they had already been hard enough. He gave a soft groan before he heard the distinct sound of the pages of a book being turned. He turned his head just a tiny bit, surprised to see the man still sitting there, obviously watching over him. "What kinda magic did you work to make my cousin not chase ya out?" Wes asked, his voice far softer than he normally would have made it, practically a whisper, hoarse and dry and full of the pain he was feeling. |
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| Kingsley Stone | Jan 4 2018, 09:28 PM Post #3 |
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Maybe it was a bit selfish of Kingsley to be enjoying the peace and quiet. He had a patient, he had someone who had almost died and he was sitting here finding himself almost relaxed. He tried to tell himself that it was okay because his patient was...a little less out of the danger stage. Wes may try to overdo it, thus reopening wounds, or he might get an infection that they couldn't treat. But Kingsley had confidence, he did...he also had the promise that his brothers would go find whatever he needed by any means necessary. Part of him thought that it had just been Hedley – Hedly always got what he wanted – trying to sweeten Summer up, but Booker had shaken his head, had said that the Mannings were their neighbors now and sometimes all people had left after family had been exhausted was neighbors. They weren't terrible people, after all, just not the most...good. So he didn't feel too awful for being relieved. He loved his family – it was the only one he had – but they were all a bit much. Prosper and Hedley had always been loud personalities that grated on him, meanwhile Booker and Carlisle had taken turns trying to be a father and seeming to think he was the one that needed the most care. Let them worry about Prosper who had almost lost a finger because he wasn't paying attention, let them worry about Hedley who always found a fight to be in. There was hardly ever a moment for peace in their household. They always had to be doing something, it seemed, until it was time for sleep. Then sleep had it's own troubles for him. It was nice to have moments just for him. But as always, moments were broken, though he supposed the waking of his patient was one of the more welcome ones to have. When he heard the hiss, he closed the book, setting it aside so he could lean over the bed, over wes. Wes turned his head – a good sign. He spoke – another good sign. He offered a small smile as Wes asked what kind of magic he had worked. He hoped it was a comforting one. Hedley always said his smiles looked stiff and he should go with what made his face look best (not smiling). Prosper would usually come over and poke at the corners of his mouth and say that he never did look like a happy chappy. At the very least, he could hope that it brought comfort. "The short answer is I called her on her bluff and said she was welcome to shoot me at any point she wanted." He hadn't been afraid. Oh, he had known if pushed far enough Summer would have pulled the trigger. She didn't seem like a woman that would hesitate if she thought she was threatened, if her family was. But to shoot a man who had done nothing except come on her property? A warning shot seemed more than good enough and if someone kept coming through that? You could be more assured that they weren't someone safe. Shoot a man who had just saved the life of your cousin? That was just rude. You couldn't shoot someone who had helped you unless you wanted to be considered the terrible person. So Kingsley had sat there unafraid, staring right at her and waiting for her to decide. There was always the chance that she might have done it, but he didn't fear death. Death was just an ending, it made things stopped and nothing changed after you were dead. Living was by far scarier because it was so unknown. Finally she had just told him to watch himself. He began to fuss with the bandages, checking them over to make sure they hadn't bleed through, that the injuries hadn't gotten worse. "The longer answer is I pointed out that until she brought in another doctor, I am the one taking care of you. It was neither wise nor practical to have me be as far away as our house is especially considering that your cousin doesn't particularly like any of us over there. She finally agreed with my point." For so many reasons. The doctors hadn't been hurt too badly by the market crash, though there were some that had been; they still needed to make money and while Kingsley hadn't been crass enough to point out they couldn't afford a proper doctor, they had both known it. Kingsley had trusted her with the life of her cousin, she seemed like the type that would do anything for family, but she had also always struck him as stubborn. She wouldn't purposefully put her cousin's life on the line just because the Stones were bootleggers, but she might try to rationalize it, might say that maybe it wasn't so bad or fix it herself because Kingsley had said Wes would start to recover. She didn't like the Stone brothers, but she had viewed them as a necessary evil and she couldn't argue with his logic. That was always something Kingsley had been good with. Hedley may have swayed people with charm and enthusiastic words, but Kingsley had reason and smart words as his weapons. "This'll sound like a silly question, but how is the pain? Do you think you might need more for it than what you have right now? I can fetch one of my brothers to get you something." Prosper would know. Prosper had always had the ability to sniff out things like that, though no one had ever questioned how or why. He didn't seem to take it, but who knew anymore? He would find what they needed. "Or would you rather just have some water for the moment?" Because it had hurt Kingsley's ears to listen to him speak, made his own throat dry out in sympathy. "I'm Kingsley, by the way. I don't think we ever properly introduced ourselves. Kingsley Stone." It seemed like such a silly thing to do but he had Wes' blood on his hands, the least he could do was offer up his name and have it be proper rather than just having heard that it was Wes. "From the sounds of it, Booker might be trying to convince Hedley – my brothers – into helping around the farm while you heal up." Booker had seen what a besotted fool Hedley was and thought he was being funny. Kingsley hadn't helped matters by adding that surely Summer would be grateful for the offer. After all the years of Hedley talking over Kingsley and making him feel like a fool, it did feel good to have that over him. |
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| Wesley Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:28 PM Post #4 |
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Wes smiled back at the small smile the other man gave him. It wasn't an overly welcoming smile or an overly wide and joyful one, but Wes wasn't bothered by it in the least. It still felt true, despite everything. He gave a tiny laugh that rattled everything inside of him it felt like, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment against the feeling of that and the feeling of pain. "You're lucky she didn't just shoot ya for testin' her." Of course, Summer was such a bright, friendly person most of the time. She wasn't likely to shoot someone just because they called her bluff. If Kingsley had been threatening her, threatening him or the others, however, she would have done it. She would have probably tormented herself over it, but she would have done it nonetheless. She, like most of them, was dedicated to the farm and the family. Given that Kingsley had been here doctoring him up, well,he assumed Summer had just swallowed her pride and let him stay because of that. Kingsley might not fully know Summer, but he was probably at least somewhat adept at judging the character at someone. At least, Wes had to assume he was for him to go challenging someone who routinely pointed a shotgun at him and his brothers. It was either that or he was foolhardy. He just laid there for a minute as the other man leaned over him, as his hands touched at the bandages that felt like they were practically all over his body. It was a soft, gentle touch but that didn't mean it didn't hurt regardless. It was a necessary evil, however, and he knew it. He was going to have to deal with that a lot over the next... whoever knew how long. He listened for a moment as the other man spoke again and explained the true rational behind his being allowed to stay here. It made sense. They couldn't afford the hospital. They couldn't afford a doctor. Going to either was just going to drain the small amount of money that they did have saved up. He didn't doubt that they would have done it if they had needed to, but it would have made life even harder. "Thank you, then. I know you probably saved my life." He didn't know how bad it had been but he knew it had to have been at least somewhat bad. Bad enough that Summer had forgotten her desire to never even bother with the next door neighbors and fetched them to help, bad enough that he had needed the help and that the man that had taken care of him had decided to stay to make sure he remained okay. Maybe it hadn't been life-threatening but it was still bad. It certainly hurt like it had been life-threatening. Either way, he and his family probably owed an awful lot to the other man even for the fact that he had tried, let alone that he had succeeded. Wes fell silent for a moment as the older man asked him if he needed something more for the pain, if he just needed water. The fact of the matter was he had been raised to be honest, but medicine cost money. Extended amounts of doctoring and medicine cost even more money. They weren't out and down to their last dollar yet but give them enough time with him injured and they might be. "I hurt," he finally said after a long, heavy pause. "A lot. I reckon I'll get by, though. I won't say no to some water, though." He knew he would be in a lot of pain for a bit. He probably wasn't going to sleep well or, really, do anything well at all for however long it took to heal. He wasn't going to live off the charity of people from down the road, however, nor was he going to let his family go bankrupt trying to keep him one hundred percent free of pain. It was his own fool self that had gotten distracted and not been paying attention anyways. He gave another small, jarring laugh. "I know. I've heard ya introduce yourself before. It's nice to hear it proper like, though. I'm Wesley Manning, but everyone just calls me Wes." It was something several of his older siblings liked as well. Lawrence had become Law, Lorraine had become Lori, and Wesley had become Wes. It had just felt right to the three of them. He shook his head slightly. "Your brother is like to just get himself run off again unless Summer changes her mind completely." Maybe she would. After all, they were going to need the help. She had a stubborn streak in her, though. "Do you know how long..." Wes began before he tailed off hesitantly. He wanted to desperately ask how long it would be, what the extent of the damages were, but he was almost afraid to do so. It was one thing knowing when you were hurt and it was another thing entirely to know every single part of you that hurt, how much it would take to heal, how long you might be hurting for, how long he would be inconveniencing not only his family but who were basically strangers still. It didn't sit well with him but there was nothing that he could do about it now. 'I'm sorry you're going to be stuck watching me for however long." He sighed the words out and turned his gaze away from Kingsley for the moment. His eyes lit on the stack of books that were piked up next to his bedside and he just ran his brown eyes over them for a long moment. "What are you readin'?" |
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| Kingsley Stone | Jan 4 2018, 09:29 PM Post #5 |
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Kingsley couldn't help wincing the tiniest bit when Wes laughed, mostly because while he had never been injured so badly, he had been injured. He had felt how badly doing anything could hurt. "If she had shot me, wouldn't that have proven her resolve and gotten Hedley to leave her alone?" He had been positive that she wouldn't shoot him. He had been so sure she wouldn't that if she had – even firing it off close to his ear – he would have been stunned. But he had figured that was because he just couldn't see her doing it. She wasn't like Booker or Carlisle who shot first and then made the threats. Plus he had been turning to help Wes. Most people weren't cruel enough to shoot the person who had been helping their cousin out – at least not Summer. These were farm people. They could be ready to defend their property but they weren't the sort of people who would injure someone trying to help. All things considered, though, he didn't think he would have minded being shot. Oh, it would be awful if he lingered and had to bleed out or die from infection in his home with his brothers, but from where Summer had been standing, a point blank range would have been an instant kill, wouldn't it? And then he would be dead. It wasn't the worst thought he had ever had, it wasn't as terrifying as some people seemed to want to make it. Death was just an end. After it was done, you didn't worry about anything anymore. Personally, he wouldn't have minded no more uncertainty, never having to struggle, never worrying anymore. His hands paused as Wes thanked him, not entirely sure how to respond. It wasn't that he hadn't been thanked by Summer, but he it wasn't fair to say he had either. Summer had been grateful, he could see that, and she had said plenty of things that circled around 'thank you' while not actually saying it. And truthfully Kingsley hadn't done it for the appreciation or the idea that the Manning family now owed them...honestly, he didn't think any of his brothers had thought that. While Summer had been leery of them, sure they were going to bring trouble, he didn't think he and his brothers had thought of their neighbors as anything more than neighbors. They weren't the toughened, gritty mobsters that seemed to thrive in the bigger city. They were just a family that knew where money was. Kingsley had been able to help, so he had wanted to. He gave a small shrug. "It was nothing," he finally said. "It's what neighbors do for each other if they can. I'm just glad I was able to help." Because he hadn't finished medical school and while he had been so close to being finished, he always worried that last stretch would have some ancient and arcane knowledge that if he didn't have, he would wind up killing more people than he saved. The reality of it was that it was stitching things up and wrapping up broken bones. He hadn't run into anything too badly yet. Yet. He was fully expecting having to take a bullet out of Hedley at some point. For a moment Kingsley thought that Wes would say he was fine. Everyone always said they were fine (unless they Prosper; every time Prosper was injured, he complained more and more and Kingsley was getting concerned). But Wes was silent as if he were actually considering it and then, rather than just saying he was fine, he said he hurt but he'd get by. "Well, just be aware that if you need something more, my brother will go get more." He turned away, moving to take hold of the pitcher that Lori had left for him there. It had been a kindness he hadn't thought of, that Summer had thought of, and when he had seemed surprised, Lori had pointed out that even if Kingsley somehow didn't get thirsty, Wes could wake up at any moment and he would no doubt be thirsty. "I don't think those introductions counted because Hedley introduced me. I just wanted to go back home. But that was Hedley perfectly; everyone always had to do what he wanted to do. "It's nice to meet you properly, Wes." It wasn't the best circumstances, but he was glad. He was glad they actually got to meet, that they didn't just see each other from afar. "Good," he said briskly as he turned back with the glass. "Hedley's too arrogant. He thinks that because he was born twelve minutes before I was that he knows everything there is to know in the world. He deserves to be run off and have to work for something in his life." Because it was like Hedley had some kind of blessing. Women flocked to him, men gave him things, it was like some higher power had blessed him – and didn't he just rub that in everyone's faces? "It's going to be awhile," he said and even he could hear the tone that Hedley hated. Hedley always said he would have never been allowed to be a doctor because his bed side manner was awful, that he didn't know how to soften the blow and be a bit more comforting. "But while your cousin may not like us overly much, the Stone brothers will offer their assistance. Not all of us are like Hedley." Booker would probably offer and say that if she needed anything, she just needed to come get them. He would organize Prosper and Carlisle to whatever she needed. Hedley would be the only one to push it. "It's all right," he said easily, sincerely. "I have four brothers, two of who happen to be loud and obnoxious. This is a bit like some time off for me." He had hardly ever had time for himself these days. Was it terrible of him to think of this tragedy as a good thing? It wasn't like he was thinking that before Wes had turned the corner onto recovery rather than still close to death. He followed Wes' eyes to his books. "there's a bit of everything in that pile. It's been quite long time since I've been able to read. Currently I'm on a Brave New World." |
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| Wesley Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:29 PM Post #6 |
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"That probably is true... but it probably wouldn't have made you feel too good, either," he offered up with another tiny laugh. He couldn't imagine someone being overly welcoming of death. He also couldn't imagine that someone's brother would be exactly complacent if the person they had come to help pumped their brother full of shotgun lead. Granted, he probably would make a hasty escape but he would come back in anger eventually. Summer, he thought, could find a way to find the resolve required to put a bullet in someone... but not without great cause and she would realize the repercussions. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Well, reckon maybe we should just be happy it didn't happen an' leave it at that." There was no sense in debating back and forth about how it could have happened or whether or not it would have or what would have happened if his cousin had gone through with it. It hadn't happened and they were all here now. Wes, for one, was just glad it hadn't come to that. He wouldn't like to see his cousin put in that predicament and this man very well could have saved his life. It was better for all involved that Summer had just huffed and let him call her bluff. Wes gave a slow smile as the other man just paused for a long moment after Wes thanked him and then shrugged his shoulders, saying that it was what neighbors did for one another if they could, that he was just glad to be able to help. Wes wasn't sure what he had expected to hear from him, honestly. If he had expected to hear that, if he had just expected a simple 'you're welcome' or if he had expected a shady statement that the Mannings and the Lees owed him now and they would come to collect one day. It wasn't a big secret - at least to the people on their farm - that the neighbors just down the long and dusty road weren't precisely on the up and up. Summer had figured out quite early that they were bootleggers. Despite that, they really hadn't done much that made them seem like hardened criminals. Wes wasn't sure if they were or if they weren't, but they were also just fairly normal. In fact, they were pretty quiet. Once Summer had chased them off they had left them alone. You heard gossip, sometimes, about 'them foreigners' and 'them English folk' but nothing more than casual gossip. In fact, the townspeople probably liked them if they were helping to supply liquor. "Well, I 'ppreciate it. You didn't have to, but you did." He gave another small laugh. "Reckon I'm gladder'n you are that you could help," he said with a tiny tease, wondering if he was going to get a laugh, an eye roll, or just a blank look that said the other man was not in the least bit amused by his attempt at humor. Wes smile a tiny bit. "Oh, I'll be aware of it," he promised. He would probably be very well aware that all he had to do was ask and he would likely get whatever drugs he needed. He didn't know where it was coming from, though. He didn't know where the money for it would come from. He didn't know if he would owe anyone anything, if his family would owe them. So, he would be very well aware. He would hurt and probably moan in pain and wish he had anything to dull it but he wasn't going to ask for any if he could help it. Not anything more than the most minor things, such as aspirin, and the home remedies that they had that could help, too. He closed his eyes briefly as the other man turned away and tried to tell himself to ignore the pain. It didn't work, but it distracted him, at least, until the other man spoke again. He opened his eyes again at the words and gave another faint smile. "It's nice to meet you, too, Kingsley." He could say that he wished it was under better circumstances but, well, what had happened had happened and, honestly, they might not have even met otherwise. Not properly, anyways. "Well, he won't get nowhere with Summer like he is right now." Summer was older than him, so Wes didn't know all of her hopes, dreams and interests, but she had dated a few men before. Then things had gone bad and, honestly, none of them had ever focused much on courting. It was all about survival at that point. Summer was sweet, but she had steel. She wasn't going to put up with someone unless she wanted to. He paused for a moment. "You twins?" he asked, curiously. Talking was a little painful, he could admit, but it was a distraction and any distraction was welcome right about now. The words he had known that he would hear but that he didn't want to hear were spoken and Wes could only give a soft sigh at it. "I kinda figured you were gonna say that," he said. He felt like it was going to be awhile. He had just hoped that, maybe, it was one of those injuries that felt worse than what it actually was. He gave another small laugh. "Well, I'm not sure if she'll accept it... my sister might be a little more willin' to do so, though." Lori wasn't into the crime life or anything, but she was dry and practical. If Summer hadn't come to the Stone brothers, honestly, Lori probably would have. She would be the one likely to say that they had something available to them and they should make use of it in order to do this or that. Summer would be the one fighting to keep them completely clean. Honestly, Wes agreed with his sister more. He didn't want to go robbing banks or running liquor, but if they needed help they couldn't be too prideful to ask for it. Hell, he might not even be here otherwise. "Yeah? I have four siblings too. All of 'em older." It was a little bit of a bonding point, he figured. It was something else to talk about. He let his eyes travel to the book pile, almost hungrily. He had books. He didn't have that many books, though. He didn't get many chances to sit down and read anymore, maybe here and there right before bed, but usually he was too busy otherwise. "That sounds nice," he said, wistfully. "I ain't read much lately. I miss it." |
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| Kingsley Stone | Jan 4 2018, 09:29 PM Post #7 |
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Kingsley gave a small rolling shrug. "If it had happened, it would have been what it was." Hedley always complained that Kingsley was too blasé about things and never honest. This was the prime example, he heard Hedley's snotty tone in his head. Kingsley couldn't outright say he would be happy being shot, he couldn't say it would feel good...He also felt he wasn't particularly brave, which was what Booker had said he was when he had returned home one evening. Brave to stare down the barrel of a gun and say 'no, I'm staying'. Kingsley didn't think he was overly brave, it just had been...he didn't care. If he was shot dead, it was only a temporary hurt, wasn't it? He wouldn't have a long time to care about how much it hurt. After that, well, he would just be dead. There was no mincing words. He'd be dead and sometimes Kingsley thought that sounded awfully peaceful. "It allows our families to continue being-" he stopped short because he wasn't entirely sure the word he wanted to use. The Mannings and Stones hadn't been friends, certainly but they hadn't been enemies either. They had just sort of...existed side by side. Hedley hadn't managed to botch things up with his constant need for flirting with a woman who very obviously wasn't interested, Kingsley hadn't botched it up by letting his patient die. "Friendly," he finally settled on. That was the best they were. Before Kingsley hadn't overly cared. They were neighbors, yes, but the Mannings were a hefty walk away and if they left each other alone, it was all for the best. He tilted his head slightly as Wes said he hadn't had to help. Honestly, the though hadn't occurred to him. Not for one moment when Summer had burst into their home and demanding if Kingsley still remembered what he had learned in medical school had he thought 'I don't have to do this'. It had been more of a mad dash of asking what was wrong and making his brothers gather what he needed. Not even after the fact had he thought he hadn't needed to do it. He hadn't thought about any rewards or anything. In fact, he didn't think any of his brothers had thought of that. No one had asked him to ask the Mannings or Lees for a favor, for this or that since they had helped save Wes' life, no one had even indicated that. That didn't mean they wouldn't ask for help down the line, but he doubted it would be because they expected an automatic yes. "I was...happy to be of service," he said a little haltingly. It felt strange saying 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' to people. Kingsley liked to live in his own little world, Booker and Carlisle said. Kingsley preferred to have his nose in a book and he would willingly starve himself to death if he could just keep reading. He was the exact, polar opposite to Hedley, who knew all the social graces but just outright ignored them sometimes. "I imagine you won't be too glad when it starts healing properly and you begin to itch." He attempted to give a small smile to go along side the joke, hoping that it actually sounded normal. Hedley had always said his smiles looked stiff and his face was too serious for jokes, not that Kingsley ever wanted to joke around, thank you very much. "And I don't want you ignoring it," he found himself continuing on, "If you're in pain, you tell me." He knew he brothers would tell him. His brothers would complain up and down, louder than all get out. Wes? Well, Kingsley couldn't say he had the neighbors all figured out, but they did seem the type that didn't want to get mixed up in that. Maybe it was partly because they thought that the Stones would use illegal means to get what they needed and they didn't want to be caught up in that. He couldn't blame them. He honestly didn't know how Prosper got what they needed, but he always seemed so smug about it when he got home. "I'll be very cross if you try to...stiff upper lip about it. There's no cause for being in pain when you don't have to." Kingsley supposed he could just have Prosper go and get the stuff and tell Wes he all ready had it. Maybe he would, maybe when he returned home or when Prosper poked his head in with news from the house, he would get Prosper going on that errand. He snorted as Wes said that Hedley wouldn't get anywhere with Summer. "Good," he said, "he needs to understand not everyone is going to fall at his feet. He's too charming, he doesn't understand what it means to be told no." He was the golden son of the family, it felt like sometimes. All of them had their downfalls that kept them from having that golden aspect. Booker was a dwarf and people mistrusted that for whatever reason, Carlisle was so stiffly polite that he couldn't be charming, Prosper was warm and friendly but he looked dreadfully shady and he gave up too easily for better or worse, and Kingsley just couldn't be bothered half the time. But Hedley, oh Hedley had the looks and the words and the personality. He had it all and people dropped to their knees in front of him to earn his favor. He gave a small nod at Wes' question. "We don't look much like it now, I'm afraid, but when we were younger we were spitting images. Looked close enough we pretended to be each other on occasion. Then we got older and my eyes changed color, his hair got lighter while mine was darker, and for whatever reason he gained a few inches of height when we were teenagers." People said they could see that Hedley and Kingsley were obviously brothers, but twins always threw them for a loop. Prosper said he could see it, but then, he had known them when they had been identical. "I may not be a doctor proper, but I do know the lingo." Even though he meant it as something of a tease, he realized it could be taken very poorly if Wes chose to. It was innocent enough; Kingsley wasn't a doctor right now because he worked with his brothers and they were bootleggers rather than anything else. But if someone wanted to look at it truthfully, they could be very uncomfortable with the fact that Kingsley didn't actually have the degree that came with being a doctor. One little slip of paper meant a lot to some people, especially if their lives were in your hands."Whatever your family needs, we will be there." It sounded awfully shady when he said it that way, but he couldn't say it any other way. The Stones would be support for the Mannings and Lees, it was a given now. Summer had brought Kingsley over; it was like trying to close a door on a flood, it would still leak in after the fact. Not that Kingsley knew what they could even offer to the family. "We're a match made, then. We're both the youngest of five children in our families." Not that people seemed to think Kingsley was the youngest. They always said it had to be Prosper or Hedley because they just acted young while Kingsley seemed like an old man. "I haven't been able to read much either," he admitted. "I would say ever since we came to America we've been too busy, but it was before that too. That and it's very hard to read around my brothers. I must admit that I may have been using you as an excuse to come where there was quiet." He had been able to keep an eye on Wes and read and it had been like his ideal life. |
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| Wesley Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:29 PM Post #8 |
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Wes just gave another small laugh at the shrug and the rather blase way of reacting to the concept that someone could have filled him full of lead. It was a strange way of viewing things, in Wes' opinion. If the other man had sounded more depressed or defeated about it, he would have said it sounded fatalistic. As it stood, it just sounded like he didn't care. It sounded less like someone just waiting to die and more like someone who had accepted that it was going to happen some day. Maybe that was because he was a doctor? Or, well, Wes knew their neighbors were - supposedly - up to no good but there was obviously some knowledge of being a doctor there. Wes could see how learning to deal with disease and injury and all of the things that doctors had to deal with would make you realize what was going to happen to everyone some day. Doctors tried to fight it, of course, but maybe they knew that they were just staving off the inevitable. Maybe it made all of them like Kingsley. He gave another laugh that shook him enough to make him wince somewhat. "Passing friendly, I'd say, at least with Summer," he said in response to Kingsley's saying it allowed their families to remain friendly. That was about the best that they had been. The kind of neighbors that gave a nod or a tip of the hat... and that was mostly because his cousin had chased them off the farm several times. Some of the workers, Wes and Lori didn't really care but they mostly just listened to Summer anyways because they were busy. They didn't have time to go being rebellious and knocking on the door of the neighbors that were also busy. There were a lot more important things to do than that, really. "Well, like I said, I appreciate it," he said again in response to the slightly halting words. The other man looked a bit discomfited by the conversation and Wes had to wonder if that was just due to the simple fact that he was having a conversation. Not that he thought the other man didn't talk at all, but the few times that Wes had glimpsed the brothers he had always been the quiet one. The others had been varying levels of loud, but Kingsley had always been quiet whenever Wes saw him. Even now, he was being relatively taciturn with his words. Wes didn't mind, though. He didn't feel as if Kingsley were being unfriendly with him. Given what he had seen the few times he had seen the other man... it was probably just how he was. He looked up at the other man for a moment as he gave a small smile. It was a little stiff, a little awkward, but it was a true smile - or at least as far as Wes could tell it was. He gave another small laugh at the words, actually a bit startled that the other man had teased him back. He didn't seem the type. "Oh, I reckon itchin' is a bit better than what I coulda been dealin' with. If I start itchin' too much, are you gonna scratch it for me?" he asked, teasing again. He highly doubted that was on the list of things that the other man would do. After all, Wes would be able to reach most of them himself. It wasn't precisely in the man's job description to sit there and itch healing wounds for Wes. He blinked his brown eyes a little as Kingsley stated that he didn't want him ignoring the pain, that he wanted him to tell the other man if he was in pain and there was no sense in his being in pain. He had to wonder if the other man thought that Wes was going to do that because he was stubborn and prideful. If he thought that Wes didn't want to be given what might be potentially illegal drugs, if he was like Summer and didn't want to be caught up in that. The thing was, he didn't care so much about that. It was just... Kingsley had been kind and saved his life. From what he had gathered, it was a free service (or so far it was free). If he started asking for drugs, for things like that, how much longer was it going to stay free? His family couldn't afford a hospital visit. They couldn't afford medication like that on this scale. Not legally acquired, anyways. He wasn't going to drive them into further debt. "If it gets to be too much, I'll let you know," he said. It was a promise that wasn't really a promise because he was determined that it wouldn't be too much for him. That he would be fine. Wes gave his head a small shake as Kingsley snorted and seemed pleased at the fact that Summer wasn't likely to give sway to his brother. "Well, he met his match with Summer. She's the sweetest person I know but she digs in when she wants to and she can be stubborn as a mule about things she believes in." One of those things was protecting her family and she didn't view allowing what she considered to be known ruffians and criminals around her family and onto their farm as protecting them. He took a second to just look at Kingsley for a moment, appreciatively taking in his features before he shook his head. "Well, I haven't seen either of ya much... but I am sure I'd see the brotherly resemblance if you were standin' next to each other, though probably still surprised to find out you were twins." He smiled a little as Kingsley spoke. "I reckon you must have gotten some of that learnin' deep in your head. You pulled off a miracle, after all." Maybe he wasn't a proper doctor, but he had obviously known what to do. That was more important than having a man full of book smarts but no practical knowledge in Wes' opinion. "Well, Summer might huff and puff, but I know I'll appreciate it. My sister, too." Because they could have said no. He could be dead. They could have charged them a lot of money. They could abandon them now that Wes wasn't dying. "It's nice to have somethin' to bond over, isn't it?" he offered with a small smile. "You've seen Lori, probably met her by now. There's Law an' Roy an' Parker. Law's up in some city, playing music in a jazz club I think. Roy married some rich lady up in Chicago that wasn't all that rich at all but they seem to be pretty happy. Parker's out in Texas, of all places, bein' a cop. Then there's me. The baby of the group. I was supposed to go to college to be a veterinarian, but." He didn't need to say anything else. The Depression had ruined a lot of people's plans for their futures. "Well, I can't be happy of the circumstances but I suppose I'm happy to help?" He paused for a moment, hesitating in asking what he wanted to ask. "If it's... not too much trouble maybe could you... read some of it to me sometime?" He didn't think he could handle reading a book on his own right now, but he wanted the immersion of stories in the way that he used to. He missed it far, far too much. |
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| Kingsley Stone | Jan 4 2018, 09:30 PM Post #9 |
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There was another small laugh and Kingsley found himself honestly a touch surprised. He wouldn't say that their family had been devoid of laughter or that there had been no reasons for them to laugh, but at the same time it hadn't been something he had felt he had recently. Or, maybe, he was just interested in wes' laugh. Amongst his family it wasn't a particular secret of where his interests lied...mostly because when you looked at their family, they were all a bunch of sinners in that respect. Booker had only ever been interested in men, Carlisle preferred women...but Hedley, Kingsley, and Prosper? Their interest had lied in both. It made it both easier and harder for them. Hedley seemed to like very beautiful women, which explained Summer, but it wasn't unheard of for him to be found with a man. Prosper seemed to go whatever way the wind was blowing that day. And Kingsley...well, Kingsley had always assumed he would find a woman that was good enough to settle down with and avoid the pain anything else that came with it. But then Wes. He tried to dismiss it because Wes was his patient. People didn't fall in love – or more carnal desire – with their patients. "She'll warm up to us. Possibly not Hedley any time soon, but give her a bit of time. Prosper is a disease, it's just a matter of time." Prosper had that way about him, making people like him even when he was surprisingly crass. He was perhaps even more charming than Hedley, because he never seemed upset about rejection. "Booker and Carlisle are also fairly decent people and will win her over by being hard workers." Even if their chosen profession was currently illegal, they were devoted to keeping it to as one the level as they could, keeping it from hurting people immediately. He gave a nod, not entirely sure what to say in the face of that so...he shut it down, more or less. He wouldn't say he was completely ignorant to the way of social niceties – while his family had never been old money or big money, they had had decent money. They had gone to parties where you were expected to be polite. Prosper, Carlisle, and Hedley had always done so much better than Kingsley. It was just...what did people expect half the time? Wes had thanked him, Kingsley had said he was glad to be of service (which he felt was a good enough 'you're welcome'), and Wes had said he appreciated it. There was nothing else to say to that, was there? But he felt if Prosper or Hedley were here, they would have turned it into a long, long conversations that wouldn't be at all dry or repeating of the same words over and over again. If he were Hedley, Wes would be charmed and Kingsley would know how properly smile. But at least Wes laughed, sounding vaguely startled because of it. "Oh heavens no. You don't itch newly healed wounds, that might reopen them." It still had the air of a tease, much like Wes' words had, but there was also a truth to them. How many times had he patched Prosper up because he had scratched too much and reopened a wound, then it had healed, then he had scratched himself up again. But...there was a small part of Kingsley that said he would. If there were no issue with it, he would have because Wes asked. He shook away that thought, pushing it over an abyss to die before he had a chance to act on it. Kingsley watched Wes, watched him as his face wasn't exactly blank but wasn't dancing with emotions either. It made Kingsley assured that Wes was at least thinking about it. That sounded a bit odd in his own head, but the fact that there weren't a bunch of emotions flittering across Wes' face – annoyance at being told what to do, surprise at being told, relief that he wouldn't have to hide, fear that something terrible would happen if he agreed – made Kingsley think that either Wes was accepting of the terms that Kingsley had laid down, or else he was listening but accepting that he wouldn't do as Kingsley asked. When Wes spoke, Kingsley could only sigh the tiniest of bits. "I'll be cross if it turns out otherwise," he finally said. That was the most he could do now. He couldn't make Wes tell him when he was hurting too much and he couldn't just give Wes painkillers whenever he felt that Wes would need it. They had connections now, but even Prosper couldn't get a steady supply of medication without it coming back to him. "Perhaps that's why Hedley is having a hard time. He's much the same...except the sweet. He's less sweet and more the man you always want to be friends with," that came out as a sigh. With four brothers, it was impossible to avoid jealousy, he had always felt, but they had done a surprisingly good job. But Kingsley would be lying if (when he paid attention) he said he didn't find himself jealous because it all seemed so easily for Hedley. Perhaps they'd find that summer was the more stubborn companion, though. She did seem awfully more tenacious than Hedley. Wes was looking at him, probably comparing the times he had seen Hedley and himself together...which were honestly very few or marred by someone being between them. "You'll see us a lot more now, I'm sure." Summer would stand her ground...but it wouldn't last long. Not because Hedley would barrel in, but because Booker would come and be kind and offer their services and be the oldest brother that knew how to pat people down. Because Prosper would come over and he would be charming and scandalous and flirty but so gentle about it, one could only laugh. "If I cut my hair, I'm told I look much similar to Hedley." Even as he said it, he lifted his hand to touch his hair. It had been an odd thing for a man to have longer hair, but he had found he liked it, so what else could he do but leave it the way it was? Wes spoke and Kingsley told himself he didn't need to be flattered, that he was above it, but he still felt himself preen under the words. It seemed like in their family, everyone always noticed all of his older brothers first. That was fine, that fair – they were the ones who did most of the stuff in their lives, Kingsley meanwhile, always had his nose in a book and disregarded people. It was nice, he found, to be acknowledged. "I love learning," he gave a small nod to the books. Even if they weren't all medical journals or research material, but it was a decent chunk. He gave another small, somewhat hesitant smile as Wes said they'd appreciate it. "It's what neighbors do," he said. Wes continued on, saying it was nice to have something to bond over and then starting to tell Kingsley about his family. IT sounded like a dozen people in the world now, people who had gone in search of something more or hoping for better. Sometimes they got it, sometimes they were still working. But this was more than "dozens" of people. This was Wes and his family. "We thought we were coming into a land of plenty," he offered softly. "We thought we'd have all sorts of chances. I mean, Hedley seems to think we've reached the top of the mountain but..." But Kingsley still hadn't been able to finish school. Prosper hadn't been able to find what he wanted in life. "I might be able to find some books on it, if you like?" the offer surprised him, felt like it had come out of nowhere and yet he meant it. He wanted to find the books for Wes, he wanted to go searching for them and to bring them down and let him read to his heart's content like Kingsley had managed. "Even awake you are much better company than my brothers as well," it was something of a tease but also the truth. Because even before the accident, Kingsley had noticed that Wes was a bit quieter, a bit calmer. Maybe that was just because he had been busy with other things but Kingsley could dream right? He paused when Wes hesitated, asking slowly if he might read to him sometime. Kingsley's first instinct was to say no. Not because he hated the idea or had anything before to do, but when one lived with brothers like his, you learned to say no first. Kingsley glanced at his pile of books. "What do you like to read?" He would undoubtedly have something in there, right? |
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| Wesley Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:30 PM Post #10 |
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Wes just gave a small smile to the other man's words. "Well, I reckon we'll see," was all that he finally said. Maybe the other man was right. After all, he knew his brothers well enough, obviously. Maybe they were very good at that. He also knew his cousin pretty well, though. If she decided she didn't want to like them, well, there might be nothing they could do about it. Still, she had unbent enough to bring them here when he was in danger. There was every possibility that, once he was better, she would turn them out again. There was also every possibility that she would start to unbend more and become at least marginally friendly with them. It wasn't something that would happen right away. The only reason she had probably given in with Kingsley was his seeming lack of care about what she did and the fact that she wanted him to be there in case Wes needed him. That was probably all that had really swayed her. "She's a tough nut to crack when she wants to be. I imagine she's already thinkin' what she's gonna tell the older brother of mine who's a cop and my oldest cousin who's a federal marshal. Lori and I are a little more, ah..." He trailed off for a moment, unable to find the right word. That worried him but maybe it shouldn't. He had just suffered a major injury and was hurting. It was hard to think right now, really. "Well, we're a bit less concerned," he finally settled on. Not that he wanted to make friends with murderers and mafia men but bootlegging? That was so common nowadays. Everyone did it. Hell, people who owned pharmacies and restaurants and bookstores alike did it. It was just the way that the world was now. If their neighbors were running alcohol, well, so was half the country. Kingsley was fairly quiet, but Wes didn't mind. In fact, he felt a familiarity there. Wes wouldn't say he was a wholly quiet individual, but when you compared him with his siblings he was. The rest of them were varying levels of chatty. Wes could get chatty when he felt like it. Equally, he was pleased sitting in comfortable silence. There were times if he wondered if some of his older siblings even knew how to do that. But Wes did and he didn't mind one bit that Kingsley was being mostly silent. "Well, that's disappointin'. I guess you'll have to remind me every time I try to later on then." He gave a mock sigh at that that he didn't really feel. He was sure that might change, of course, down the road. He knew that injuries could itch like crazy and with a big enough of one he would likely be cursing Kingsley for not letting him itch to his heart's content rather than just softly laughing about it. Then again, maybe that was an exaggeration. Wes wasn't exactly the type to do something like that even if he was stuck being uncomfortable. "I said I would," Wes responded to the other man's statement. Except he hadn't. Not really. His promise had been phrased in such a way that all he had to do was just continue to be determined that he wasn't hurting in the least. He just had to grit his teeth and bear it and tell himself that it didn't hurt. Then he didn't have to admit to it hurting at all. Then Kingsley didn't have to worry and no one had to go and fetch him medicine. It did hurt, though. He wasn't going to go blurting that out, however. It wasn't wholly because of not wanting to have the potential cost for medication, either. Wes didn't want to be a bothersome patient for anyone. This man had enough to do, didn't he? And now his family had to work harder because he wasn't able to help. He just needed to be quiet, not cause trouble, and heal. If it hurt, well, maybe he should have been paying attention and not let himself get caught in the predicament that he had been. Really, if he was hurting it was his own fool fault for not paying attention and it was an abject lesson to make sure to do so in the future. He had escaped with his life and all of his limbs in tact this time. Next time he might not be so lucky. "Sounds like he just got used to everyone fallin' at his feet and Summer isn't ever gonna be like that," he said after a moment. He hadn't missed the soft sigh in the other man's voice. He had a feeling that this brother of his had just been kind of blessed most of his life and Kingsley was tired of it. He supposed he could see that. None of his older siblings were anything like Hedley at all, but that didn't mean that Wes hadn't been jealous of things they had done or had gotten to do. When he was younger sometimes it had just simply been the fact that Parker or Roy had gotten to stay up a little bit later than he had. It was just the way that it worked with siblings. "Well, I wouldn't mind seein' you more," Wes admitted. Kingsley was nice and Wes liked him... and he was handsome to look at, too. He let his brown eyes flick over Kingsley's features as he said if he cut his hair he looked similar to his brother. It had been odd to see a man with hair the length of Kingsley's but Wes honestly liked it. "I think you look good with your hair as it is," he said, honestly. "Suits you." Wes gave a small smile as the other man said that he loved learning. "I do, too. There's somethin' very satisfyin' about it." He loved learning via reading and doing. He loved combining learned knowledge with practical knowledge. It was always fascinating and wonderful. He could say he was always learning - because he was - but he missed the pointed kind of learning that he had always liked to engage in. There hadn't been time for that recently. "Some neighbors might not," Wes pointed out. There were plenty of people who would bury their noises in the sand and plenty that would just shrug and say that was life. Kingsley hadn't had to come and help. Wes gave a small, sad smile as Kingsley said that they thought that they were coming to a land of plenty. "A lotta people thought that," he said with a small sigh. "Though, to be honest, it was for awhile. You just showed up when it wasn't doin' so hot." America had been riding high for a long time. Even the poorer farmers weren't so bad off. Not until the bottom fell out on everyone. He blinked a little at the offer and it flustered him more than he wanted to admit... because he wanted to say yes but Kingsley had already been kind and gone well over what he needed to do. "Oh. Oh, well, I... I mean.. you don't have to," he finished weakly, his tone saying that he really wanted what Kingsley was offering despite his words. He gave a soft laugh when Kingsley said that he was better company than his brothers even if he was awake. "Glad to hear it." He glanced away after his question, after Kingsley was quiet for a short while. He was sure the older man was just trying to find a more polite way of saying no. But then Kingsley just asked what he liked to read. "I... anythin', really. I used to read a lot of stuff but nowadays I read whatever I can actually get my hands on." Because books were a luxury item nowadays and who had time to sit down and read? |
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| Kingsley Stone | Jan 4 2018, 09:30 PM Post #11 |
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He glanced at Wes as Wes said they would see, giving the smallest of huffs. "Well, since my brothers and I are the types to do it, we could make a wager. Which one of us would be right, hm?" Kingsley had seen it a few times before, though he had always been jaded enough to call them flukes. His brothers were all charming. His older brothers were those kind of men that knew how to weave tales around and around so that you thought they were helping you and you were in control but it wasn't true. Hedley and prosper had always been more charming. They had always gotten people to like them because they were so...talkative and charming. Prosper would talk and talk and talk until sometime later you realized you had spent an entire conversation with him and it had been fun. Hedley, for all his faults, had this way about him that always made you want to do what he did; he had a way of selling it that you didn't realize until much, much later you had been had. "It sounds like she has a lot on her plate," that came out honestly. Sometimes, people looked at Kingsley's brothers and thought he would be as...maybe dismissive or as if he were being insincere with his feelings. When they got to know him a bit better, they realized he was his own brand of dismissive, that he usually parroted words to people that normally were meant to comfort or be basic politeness, but came out wrong. Hedley had complained about it all the time. Kingsley sounded false, he said. Kingsley sounded like he was subtly mocking whoever he was talking to with how flat his voice was and just the fact that he sounded like he was all ready miles away thinking about something else. "But even if she tells them about us, I figure the worst that happens is we'll pack up and move." The idea that the police would find them was always a given, it was always something lingering in the back of their minds. It would happen one day, Kingsley had always said. It always made Hedley said that it only would if Kingsley didn't keep his mouth shut. One thing he had liked about coming here was the fact that no one rushed him to talk. He knew it was selfish – it was selfish beyond belief to like coming here for the quiet and to read – but he couldn't help himself. Back home, he had a bunch of "strong" personalities, as their father use to call it. All his brothers were loud and had personalities that tended to just...dwarf everything. It wasn't even like they were aggressive; just people that liked to be loud and chatter and they just didn't understand that Kingsley preferred to quietly think things through. He gave Wes a look as the younger man said it was disappointing. "Ask my brothers how that turns out for them." Because Kingsley had yelled at his fair share over the years...not that anyone would call it yelling since it was more 'are you complete idiot'. And he had no qualms with being pushy. There were some people out there that took Kingsley's quiet nature and his young age as signs that he would be a pushover, that he would scuff his foot on the ground and mutter out to his older brothers with their big personalities that had best listen to him. No, he had always been harder. They were Stones, after all. Not that he thought Wes was being serious. He was smart, so he had been told, and he would know better then to scratch at stitches. He would want to, he was sure. They could joke and tease about it now, but the healing would begin and then he would want to do all those things. He'd be desperate to do it. Kingsley gave Wes another long look down his nose at him. "I don't appreciate people lying to me, you know." He understood Wes. He understood where their family was in money. His family had been much the same way and they had always struggled before the bootlegging, they had had to tell each other not to do this or that because they didn't have the money. They had found their ways around it, though, because they had all one by one gotten sick and tired of not having enough. Hedley had learned to charm and Prosper had learned to...well, he never said. He said that it was like charming the way Hedley did, but Kingsley had always had his doubts. He had pushed it out of his mind, though, because Prosper had never seemed unhappy. He understood...but it didn't mean he would accept. He had never gotten to finish his degree, he had never gotten to that last bit that said he was officially a doctor, but he had been with the schooling long enough to know to worry about his patient. He had learned enough to know to worry about if a patient was continually hurting...but then, maybe Wes was special. Maybe any other patient, Kingsley would have shrugged off and said that was the patient's choice after all. "Everyone wants to do what Hedley wants to," he found himself saying, repeating the words that had gone through their family countless time. "It doesn't matter what you want if Hedley doesn't want it. That's why we're in America." Only once Prosper had gone to Hedley and begged him as if Hedley were the older brother, begged him that just once could they do something that he wanted to do. Just once, could they? Hedley had scoffed at him and didn't realize how the relationship was cracking. "It's good she'll resist him. He deserves to have struggle in his life." Maybe it would even be before Prosper disappeared from them, but who knew? Maybe Prosper needed to go away to all these cities he had been looking at. When Wes responded that he wouldn't mind seeing Kingsley more, he felt his mouth go a bit dry. "You might regret that all things considered." It was all he could think of to say because he didn't have the silver tongue of his brothers. He was blunt as a bull, they said. When Wes said that he looked good with his hair, Kingsley found himself lifting a hand to it. "People here seem to find it a bit odd at best." He had gotten a few looks in the beginning, which had taught him to tie it up, tuck it under a hat, but it usually fell through when he had to take the hat off. A small smile flittered across Kingsley's lips. "it's true." That was how he had always felt about it. It was like unwrapping a gift, slowly opening up knowledge and being gifted with something that would last a lot longer. Hedley had always laughed that off, saying what would that get him really, where was "knowledge" going to take him. He hadn't exactly appreciated the look he had gotten from Kingsley in exchange. It just hadn't mattered ultimately, though, because there was no time to wile away the hours studying. Not unless you had a lot of money stored up somewhere. "Then they aren't the right neighbors." Back home there had been a lot of keeping their heads down, especially with the Stones. What else were they suppose to do? They were five brothers living together, they needed to survive, how could they focus on their neighbors when they were trying to help themselves? He was sure they would have ignored the Manning farm too if Hedley hadn't become so smitten. "Like I told Hedley when we got here: I blame him for this." He had been content in England. They had been struggling, but it had been okay. He had thought it stupid and foolish to do something on a chance. They may not have had much in England, but they had been doing all right. What if they had traveled and been unable to find their footing? What if things had been worse here? It had been stupid to leave...but they were doing all right, he supposed. "If you ever get to talk with my brothers, they'll tell you I never offer things unless I want to." Kingsley, they said, didn't have a bone in his body that thought of obligations. It was in the same vein as when his elder brothers had given things to people and said it was from everyone and Kingsley had spoken loudly that he hadn't helped get anything. Again, he gave Wes a small smile as the younger man said he was glad to hear it. "that was me when I was younger. I suppose now I do that to." It was all he had wanted to do but life was never perfect, he supposed. |
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| Wesley Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:31 PM Post #12 |
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"I would wager that I've known my cousin a lot longer than you," Wes said. His tone was a teasing one, although his voice and his demeanor were tired. He couldn't help but to poke at the other man even though he was tired and hurting. Maybe it was because the other man just seemed far too serious for his own good - he always had even when Wes had seen them in passing. "I'd give ya nice big wager but I don't think I got two dimes to rub together." It was an exaggeration. They weren't dirt poor; they had enough money to keep the farm and keep them alive. They just were struggling like everyone else in the country even if they were doing marginally better than most. Making bets, however, was not the way to keep the farm going. Even joking bets. He glanced over at the other man for a moment before he smiled faintly, a tinge of sadness and of pain in that smile. "Poor Summer. Tryin' to take care of two families all on her own while keepin' the farm afloat. I dunno if it's a blessin' or a curse that some of the others took off for other occupations." They could have used the help around the farm and they all would have been together... but people like Parker, Foster and even Law sent money back home when they could which helped out. He supposed it evened out somehow at that point. Wes gave a soft laugh at the older man's statement. "Oh, she might tell 'em but I don't think they can do much. Parker lives over in Texas and Foster is a federal marshal so he's always out on the road. 'Sides, I think they'd all let an awful lot slide for you helpin' family." Everyone in his family had morals... but they also had appreciation. It wouldn't be very kind to thank someone for saving his life by getting them arrested. Wes gave a small laugh at the look on the other man's face, a laugh that jarred a bit and made him close his eyes to brace himself for a brief moment. "You mean you aren't gonna remind me every time you catch me tryin' it?" he asked in response to the words. Wes didn't think he would be a difficult patient, but he was also a human being. When humans itched, they wanted to scratch it. Eventually, he was going to do it either because it was driving him mad or because he wasn't thinking straight. He couldn't imagine doing it just to spite the man that had doctored him and patched him up. That would be rude and, really, Wes didn't want to open wounds up. He didn't want to be a pain to any doctor, let alone someone who had done this mostly out of the kindness of his heart. Plus, he wanted to heal. He wasn't going to heal if he kept re-opening his wounds or, worse, if he managed to get them infected somehow. "So," he said after a moment. "That mean you the oldest brother givin' them the run around or?" Because he had no idea. He had only seen them all at a distance and with glances. This was the first real time he'd talked to any of them or seen any of them closer than just passing by. "And I don't appreciate bein' accused of lyin'," he countered, although he supposed the other man had caught him. Again, Wes hadn't really been lying. He had just been omitting things. He wasn't going to ask for drugs, not unless he absolutely had to. His family couldn't afford the medication and did he want something under the table? It was probably risky enough getting help from people who were known bootleggers. Getting drugs from any source that wasn't a town doctor was probably asking for all sorts of trouble. Wes paused for a moment before he gave a ponderous shake of his head at Kingsley's statement. 'I'm surprised he hasn't run into any opposition before." Because that happened, usually. Eventually you had to find people who didn't want to do what you did and who disliked you, right? Maybe that was what was happening now, though. Maybe he had finally met his match in Summer. "He sounds.... well. He sounds like a lotta people in this country, honestly." Because that was the American way some days; you charmed and bullied people into what you wanted. Nowadays, it was even more so like that because people were trying to make a living so that they and their families could eat. He gave a wan sort of a smile at the other man's words. "She'll do that, all right." She was never going to actually put a bullet in him - at least, not without severe provocation - but Summer wasn't going to give into some pretty face and easy charms, either. Especially when the man was a proven criminal. He wouldn't say his family was always toeing the line or reporting things they saw; sometimes they let things slide nowadays, like most folks did, but Summer didn't like it much either. He gave another small smile as Kingsley said that he might regret seeing him more. "No, I don't think i will." Maybe it was too soon to tell, but he liked Kingsley's nature. He gave a soft laugh. "It's not the style, that's for sure. But I like it." It framed his face nicely and accented his features. Wes could probably daydream for hours about running his fingers through it but... that wasn't something to think about right now or hint at. When Kingsley smiled, he felt his heart do a strange little flip-flop in his chest. It was such a small thing and the only time he had seen him smile really so far and it was... nice. It was like a small gift, a rare present, that only he was getting. "Some days, I could never get enough of it," he admitted. At least, he couldn't get enough of it until his parents needed him or his siblings wanted a horse race or the like. There were always ready distractions. "That's the sad state of affairs," he pointed out. Everyone was out for themselves right now because, in many ways, that was all that you could be when you had a family to feed and no job. It didn't make it good or right, but it was understandable, too. Wes laughed lightly. "Guess you shoulda been readin' the papers more, huh?" he said with a tiny tease. He couldn't imagine wanting to come to America right now but, well... he supposed he should be glad that they had. It had saved his life, after all. He paused for a moment, eying the older man before he gave a slight smile. "I reckon I probably will if you're gonna be around more." He hoped Kingsley would be around more, anyways. "It's good to hear, though." Kingsley gave him another small smile and he felt that flip-flopping again, felt his stomach turn a little and he just let his gaze drift a little, let his eyes flutter somewhat closed because if he kept looking at him he was going to start blushing - if he wasn't already. "I guess we got more in common than we might have thought. So, really, whatever you're readin' will be fine with me." |
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8:53 AM Jul 11