Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Swaying slightly where he stood, Pierre clutched her to his chest. And, for some unknown reason, thoughts of an unborn child—their child—rose to mind.

"Can you hear it?" Edonine spoke quietly to him.

“Hear what?” he whispered back, eyes closed.

"You gotta listen deeper," dream Edonine spoke, rubbing her belly, "Listen here,"

(I love writing dreams, cos they're gonna get hella weird )

(lmao)

Pierre cocked his head to one side and strained his ears… and a tiny, burbling cry reached his ears. A cry of his own, one of joy, tore past his lips.

Edonine covered his eyes with a hand. When she let go, they were cramped in a armoire, for some reason standing alone in an abandoned battlefield.

Confused and dazed, Pierre looked around. “Edonine?”

"I didn't choose it," she replied as if he had spoken in an accusatory manner. "I didn't choose any of this, why did you?" She shoved the door open all the way.

“I—I didn’t,” he stammered, blinking.

She stared at the battlefield of lonely bodies, for a long time. "We feel nothing anymore."

( Whispers c r e e p y )

( l o l )

"Oh…." he murmured, saddened by the statement, though he had no idea why.

Edonine reached and touched his shoulder, then down three inches to his heart. "You leave us too soon." She sounded forlorn, touched his face. "Close your eyes,"

Pierre obeyed without question, his movements suddenly sluggish and weary.

Pierre'd begin to faze back into reality. She sat diligently at his side, right now had her head rested by his and her hand on his unaffected arm, fallen into a troubled doze.

Pierre blinked his eyes open, dazed and disoriented.

His upper body felt stiff and immobile from the vice of bandages. The sunlight around him filtered through the tent canvas with a creamy hue, it smelled of fresh rain and strong alcohol. And Edonine, too, the source of the scent of sweetgrass.

"Ellis… that's a lovely name." Chadine complimented.

"John suggested it," Jane said softly, looking at her husband with an admiring look.

Skip?

To when?

Baby-parents bonding?)

(Okay!)

His upper body felt stiff and immobile from the vice of bandages. The sunlight around him filtered through the tent canvas with a creamy hue, it smelled of fresh rain and strong alcohol. And Edonine, too, the source of the scent of sweetgrass.

“E-Edonine?” he croaked, reaching weakly for her.

Edonine's eyes fluttered. It took her a moment to wake up, before both relief and worry crossed her freckled face. "Pierre, you're awake…"

(Okay!)

~~~

John kept getting up throughout the night. They kept the crib in the same room, as mothers did back then. Getting up constantly and holding his son, simply fascinated, infatuated with being a father.

Edonine's eyes fluttered. It took her a moment to wake up, before both relief and worry crossed her freckled face. "Pierre, you're awake…"

Pierre struggled to sit up, blinking at his surroundings. “Where—“

She placed a hand against his chest to kepe him down before he hurt himself. She still had bloodstains on her fingers, his blood. "Stay down. You're safe," she reassured, drawing a slow breath. "I never thought you'd wake up.."
The gentle plunking of raindrops backed her quiet voice. It had been going on and off all day, and he could tell she had stayed at his side still—her hair and clothes were dry. The birds were still chirping outside. "You were asleep for three days,"

(Okay!)

~~~

John kept getting up throughout the night. They kept the crib in the same room, as mothers did back then. Getting up constantly and holding his son, simply fascinated, infatuated with being a father.

Every time her husband would get up, Jane would turn as well. She could not find a comfortable position in which to settle. Once, she woke fully. "John?" she moaned quietly, sitting up amidst the pain. "Is something wrong?"

"No.." John whispered, "I just can't sleep. Just… thinking."

"Mm… about what?" she asked, sighing softly.

"All of this… being a father." And Murielle.

She smiled happily. "It's hard to not remember."

"I just.. don't know if I'll be a good father…" he feared.