The Prince

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Charles Yager, Apr 18, 2014.

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  1. "Do you think he'll like his new butler? I heard he's from England." Charles mother asked the maid.
    The maid gave her look and scoffed. "That boy is very particular.last time we had one, he quit the first day." The maid finished folding Charles boys clothes."He's only 12 and he knows what he wants." The mother retorted.

    Charles' vast room stood still and decorated with family crests and his clean wardrobe. His hazel eyes focused on the heavy wooden door. Charles HUD his face into the massive pile of pillows and stuffed animals. Only his black curly hair could be seen.

    The door slowly opened revealing the personal butler.
    #1 Charles Yager, Apr 18, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 19, 2014
  2. Jasper Flynn had never really intended to become a butler. His sickly mother was less than enthusiastic when he read letter to her. It was the fancy kind, classically sealed in a thick cream envelope with a red wax. It had come from a rather prestigious family in France, in response to the one he'd written as a job application of sorts. His mother was ailing and he needed the work. As it came to be, his credentials checked out, and the family insisted he come to France immediately.

    His mother had been lower-class most of her life, and as a result was poorly educated. She married off to Addison Flynn, an upper-middle class factory owner, ensuring their son had a much more opportunistic lifestyle. His excitement blurring his rationality, he handed her the letter eagerly. "And you said my letters were all for nothing, that I ought to be looking for a job in the shops! Have a look at that, would you?" gloated Jasper. His mother merely glanced over the letter and handed it back to him. "Boy, you think I can read that?" She hissed between coughs.

    It occurred to Jasper that his mother couldn't read French. He took the letter back and translated it aloud, pleased when he saw her eyes light up with interest. They were cerulean, like his. "Off to France, then?" She crowed, "Off to be some spoiled brat's lapdog?" No longer pleased, Jasper nodded. It was exactly what he was going to do, and he was going to earn a damn good living doing it. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? Living in a grand mansion, doing a few chores here and there? Besides, it was only a kid.

    That's what Jasper told himself as he boarded a plane to France. The mantra was a broken record as he arrived at the mansion, was guided through the doors. Only a kid, only a kid. Of course, Jasper was nervous. He had never done this sort of work before, really. Sure, he had served apprenticeships before, but nothing this grand. Everything he saw seemed to be gilded with gold or silk. The place was immaculately clean and lit. His own home was an outhouse compared to it. Jasper was torn from his fascination with the tapestries when the maid gestured to a heavy wooden door and said, "Right through here, Mr. Flynn." Jasper ran his fingers through his wavy blond hair and realigned his tie for the umpteenth time. The last thing he wanted to do was appear uncivilized in the midst of such elegance.

    With one last gathering of courage, Jasper pushed open the door -- which truly was as heavy as it looked -- and stepped into the room. Right away he noticed the bundle on the bed, nesting among an avalanche of pillows and toys. The bundle, he assumed, was the boy, Charles. His eyes strayed from Charles to drink in the almost preposterously large room. Like the rest of the estate, it was elegant and surreal to Jasper's humble eyes, yet still illustrated the charming flair of childhood. Remembering his manners, Jasper began to politely introduce himself. "I am Jasper Flynn, of England," he fluently announced to those assembled, "I would be your new butler."
  3. "...of England?." He scoffed as his eyes took a good look at him.
    He made himself deeper into his bed, bringing a pillow to his chest.
    "Mom sent you here,didn't she?"his hazel eyes fluttered towards him again. Those eye would make anybody frustrated and flustered at the same time.
    He perfectly matched the room,resembling a rococo painting. Although it was beautiful site to see a prince in his overly decorated bed, his eyes still gave him that look. That awful look.
    Charles sat up and stretched his arms. His pajamas looked as if it was made of silk, green with white stripes and cream colored buttons.
    He stood up on the cushions and expensive blue bed sheets. He walked along his bed,kicking a few pillows here and there, and he jumped off the end of the wooden bed.
    "Run a bath for me." He demanded as he started to unbutton his pajamas. He still counties to look at him as he undressed,making it seem very...promiscuous.
    #3 Charles Yager, Apr 19, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 19, 2014
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