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Resurrection: Rebirth of the United States

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The last two updates were quite good. I have enjoyed watching John as the events of this more social situation have unfolded.

As for switching to a mod, I would hesitate to alter the system you are currently using. I doubt you will find many more events for the time period and country you are currently playing and getting a set up to coincide with your tale thus far may prove difficult. You could always go to the mod section and list what you are looking for and perhaps someone can help you out there.
 
I've just now seen the game Rutledge is playing with Heyward. My mistake, of course. But a piece is now missing from Heyward's side of the board. Always interesting.

And John's fall I take as simply too much enthusiasm. Too much for Henrietta to take, but no major thing. At first I thought Cassie socked him a good one, but then I thought better of it. I await the eventual conversation between them with eagerness!
 
Storey: Well...let's say the shadows are starting to lengthen. :D

Stuyvesant: Oh, I'm not unwilling to detail - at the time I was more worried about what mod to download. :) Unfortunately I suppose I was too subtle again. I thought Cassie's overly casual response to someone sprawled at her feet would be a giveaway.

And yes, Rutledge is underestimating John. :)

jwolf: Very close. Prize goes to you! And yes, I'm now very jealous of Storey's book. And hey, if it's good enough for Asimov, it's good enough for me!

Machiavellian: Yes, after all the battles and general peevishness John's been in it's interesting watching him try to navigate a basic social situation. As you see he's not doing very well.

If I were to switch to a mod, I'd definitely have made sure the in game situation stayed very close, if not identical to the game. The 'worst' change I was considering was forcing a peace with England so I could mod the changes from there. That's no longer necessary.

coz1: Well..Rutledge is always playing games, and he and Tom have often ended up on opposite ends of the table. Anything that weakens Tom by definition strengthens him.

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Long story short, I'm glad to see most of you still use Vanilla EU2 - it made me feel more justified in my opinion it's just fine. As for the two I d/led - AGCEEP has the event issue I mentioned earlier. AoI...well, I won't crib another man's mod. (Nor am I downloading the betas.) Suffice to say I'm sticking to Vanilla. I may import some of Hive's excellent graphics though, as I think he offered a lot in cleaning up some of the maps.
 
-= 81 =-​
2 April, 1781
Charleston, South Carolina


Colonel John Preston stared up in amazement. She'd shoved him. She had shoved him!!

"Of course I'm alright!" He scrambled to his feet and looked around savagely at the curious onlookers. The awkward, stunned silence lasted for another two seconds, then people quickly turned away and began talking at once.

Cassie looked flushed, uncomfortable. "It's ... it's good to see you again, Colonel."

"And...you, Miss." John could feel the tension between them, was quite sure it had everything to do with the crowded room. "We should go somewhere. Talk."

"Perhaps after dinner?" Cassie shifted the fan to her right hand. You're going too fast.

John couldn't read 'fan.' "It'll only take a minute!" He reached for her hand, she snatched it back.

"Colonel!"

"The name's John, or have you forgotten?"

"I've forgotten nothing. Have you taken complete leave of your senses?" Cassie looked around the room wildly, at the crowd doing their best not to notice the couple. She grabbed his cuff in a very unladylike manner and pulled him aside. "You're embarassing us both," she continued in a low tone, fanning herself like a hummingbird beats its wings.

"Since when did what others think concern you!?"

"You're making a scene!"

"Then I'll make a scene. Damn it, Cassie...."

A short, gasping man in his thirties materialized at her side and glared meaningfully at Preston. "Is everything alright, Miss Rafferty?"

"Oh..." Cassie's face flamed bright red. "Mister Sparrow, may I present Colonel Pres...?"

"This does not concern you, sir," John said coldly.

"I believe it does, sir. Let us have a drink, then perhaps we .. gak!" Preston started shaking him.

"PUT HIM DOWN THIS INSTANT!!!"

There was no pretending that wasn't happening. The violin ended in a mournful twang as the player snapped his string, and every aristocrat and merchant in Charleston stared at the couple in shock.

She turned and fled upstairs.

"Cassie!" John started to run after her, but with surprising agility Edward Rutledge hooked his arm through the young man's.

"Don't." Preston seized the lawyer's arm, but Edward moved closer. "Colonel Preston, I promise you if you pursue this now you will do your suit such damage..."

------------------

"Why mistress, whatever's the matter?" Isabel looked up as Cassie ran into her room, slammed the door shut, threw a priceless necklace across the room and sat, sobbing.

"Go away!"

The slave said nothing, but she didn't leave either.

"I tried," Cassie choked. "I tried to fit in. I learned all the cute little ways and what to say and what not to say and how to smile and how to carry myself and even how to carry the bloody fan but it's no good! I don't belong here! I don't belong anywhere! I don't know these people or how they do things and there are so many of them and now only God knows what they must think. And he humiliated me! In front of all these people, and I did this for him! For him!"

Isabel maintained her silence. She stooped to pick up the discarded necklace, emerald flashing in the lamp light.

"I should leave. But where to go? Cornet Waymouth was kind to me, but really he has to worry about himself now. I could go to Britain, but with what? No money, only the clothes on my back? What becomes of a woman in that situation I ask you?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I'll tell you what, on the street at best and on a corner at worst, selling favors for a cup of soup. Never! But I can't stay here." She moaned and thumped the dresser.

She felt a nuzzle at her elbow, and looked down into Lucy's solemn gaze. The mastiff had free run of the house and had been trapped when she slammed the door. "What am I going to do?" she asked the dog, kneeling and hugging it like salvation. "You still like me, don't you?"

---------------------

"I don't know what got into her," Preston snapped. He paced back and forth in front of several of Charleston's 'gentlemen.' Being single, he was distinctly in the minority and other than the throttled Mister Sparrow they were quite willing to forgive his naivete. Indeed, they looked at him like one might witness a condemned man.

"No man ever made knows what goes through a woman's mind," offered a former soldier, Jennings. "Sometimes my Clara and I will be getting along fine, then she starts her bleedin' and that's the end to all order. Snapping, shrewish, suddenly doesn't want to go anywhere and certainly doesn't want to share beds. Once she threw me out of my own house, I do swear!"

"Why didn't you just take it back?" John demanded. They laughed at him.

"Never lock horns with your woman," Appleby told him. "Either you win, in which case she just gets even more sad and distressed 'til you feel like a worm for not being able to care for her, or you lose and find yourself quite emasculated. Either way your heart is wounded quite severely."

"He's right." Rutledge stood in the doorway, smoking a cigar. He very much regretted losing this time where he could be discussing important matters with important men, but it was worth it to make sure the young bull didn't make a further bollocks of things. "The smart thing to do is wait. A woman's emotions change as often as the wind. Just give her awhile to raise some doubt, hint that this misunderstanding wouldn't have happened if she'd been more receptive, then graciously grant her pardon. Oh, and if what she wants doesn't signify and can't do any harm, just nod and agree with her. It makes her far more amiable."

"I should talk to her," John mumbled, staring at his drink.

"Haven't you been listening?" Rutledge looked over the starry sky, a full moon rising. "Give her some time to decide she's wrong. You have all night."
 
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Well, Preston didn't handle that perfectly... Although I think some of the blame has to be placed on Cassie. In the first place, I have always wondered about this fan language, what if the guy doesn't understand it. I certainly would have no interest in learning it. And why did she have to be so bloody formal? She herself was well aware that upper-class formality sucks, so why didn't she take the medium between formality and decency?
 
Ah, the joys of young love.... don't you just love it? :D :eek: :D
 
I think the whole thing had to do more with the scene rather than the people in it - that is John and Cassie. Without all the need to act "proper" I imagine their reintroduction would have gone far smoother. John doesn't care if Cassie tries to fit in, nor does he seem to care if he himself does. They should both escape the confines of the Rutledge house and carry on with much less consternation, if you ask me. But I doubt Rutledge would like that - that might take some leverage away from him, I suppose.
 
I definately enjoyed the last update. I really do love this forum and all the fine AAR's it has to offer. In a way it reminds me of the comic books I used to collect as a kid. I'd read an issue and then be dying to read the next. Fortunately I -usually- don't have to wait as long for an update. I think the chaos of that scene had a lot to do with Rutledge as many have said. On one hand John Preston didn't know what to do in the formal situation and didn't expect cassie to act in such a manner.. while on the other hand, Cassie I think was trying to fit in with what she -Thought- was Preston's way of life.. no thanks to the information provided to her by her gracious hosts. Still, Preston should know better than to throttle a gentleman.
 
That was a painful meeting for both of them. Perhaps Waymouth can help to sort things out, before the conventions of the gentry do even more damage. Listening to Rutledge seems amongst the less constructive things John could do right now.

Painful, painful. But nicely written. I liked the cinematic 'Put him down!'/breaking of the violin string combination. A good way to show the awful silence.

Another thing I liked was:
Sometimes my Clara and I will be getting along fine, then she starts her bleedin' and that's the end to all order. Snapping, shrewish, suddenly doesn't want to go anywhere and certainly doesn't want to share beds. Once she threw me out of my own house, I do swear!"
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Aah, the days that the words 'political' and 'correctness' had as much to do with each other as the concepts of 'apple pie' and 'nuclear fusion'. :)
 
I think 'headstrong' would be the perfect label for John. The guy gives new meaning to 'bull in a china shop'. Hopefully he will slow down and not turn this meeting into a complete disaster. ;)

Joe
 
J. Passepartout: Well, Coz and Machiavellian pretty much answered that question. She thought formality was what someone with John's heritage wanted. Don't forget that even though he doesn't act like it, John is upper-class. (So technically is Tom, but with Rutledge as his mortal enemy that pretty much goes unacknowledged)

Draco Rexus: Well...weren't you the one to comment that a match between them would be made in...someplace? :D

Coz1: Bingo. And you're right, Rutledge won't like it... but more because not following his advice implies Rutledge doesn't know what he's talking about. Poor guy. ;)

Machiavellian: Yeah, Preston should have known better... but with everything that's happened to him since the AAR began, John's probably not the most...serene character around.

Stuyvesant: Well, lessee....we have time travelling Nazi sympathizers, slavery, assassins taking out the 'father' of the United States, and some historical figures aren't being shown in great light. I think we left political correctness behind a few pages ago. ;)

Storey: Bull in a china shop. Yeah, that's what I think of with John as well. At least he's honest about who he doesn't like. :)


General Notes:

First as I noted last time I'm sticking to vanilla. I'm just tossing on some sprinkles - in other words I copied a good chunk of "Age of Imperialism"'s graphic files over. I'll show you when we get back to the war.

Second, this is one of those chapters where the characters just grabbed the ball and ran with it. This post didn't end anywhere near where I planned it to. Cassie reveals something I didn't expect, and John drops a bomb. So if you're confused about what's going on, ask them not me. ;)
 
-= 82 =-​
2 April, 1781
Charleston, South Carolina


The gentlemen of Charleston chuckled and talked amongst themselves on Rutledge's lamp lit porch through that early spring. Occasionally a black servant would appear with drinks as they chatted about wives and sweethearts, the condition of the human heart, sorrow and joy, the joy of the hunt, of besting your fellow man on a mercantile or legal matter, profitable deals from the past, profitable deals for the present...

No one really noticed John leave. He was an outsider there on his father's good name, and even if his girl (an unusually lively, pretty creature) was proving difficult they couldn't love him. Mister Sparrow might be given to William Blake and coarse humor, but he was also vengeful and made sure they didn't love him.

Preston paced along the side of Rutledge's house, sidestepping the deep furrow left by a cannonball years past that nature hadn't quite healed. The nearly full moon made the yard clearly visible. To his left he heard the neighing of a pair of horses, barks and yaps of Rutledge's hunting dogs. He headed in that direction lost in his own thoughts.

Cassie...could she really have changed that much? He didn't know what part she was trying to play, but that wasn't the Cassie he knew. It made his chest hurt and head throb thinking about it. What was she doing? How had a simple reunion turned so foul? Was this the end? He'd spent over three years believing her dead and it'd nearly destroyed him. He couldn't lose her again. No, not like this.

John looked back at the house. Rutledge meant well, but he'd try to stop him. His fat wife would be even worse. No, this called for .... His eyes traveled up to the only lit room on the second floor. And its balcony. Yes...

---------------

Cassie gripped the dog's head in her hands, talking to it like a close confidant. She'd quite forgotten about Isabel, standing mutely like a wood statue in the corner uncertain what to do.

"No, you're right, I have to go back down there and talk to him. But how? We must have made quite a scene." The fact not one of the ladies of Charleston had come to check on her seemed to confirm that. "I think we've embarrassed each other quite enough. Though God Lucy, it's not my fault he slipped and fell!"

Lucy panted serenely.

"I shouldn't have tried to fit into his world. We're just...," Cassie lowered her gaze, ignoring the stinging tears. "We're too far apart. He knows that now." She'd spent years dreaming of this day, and only in her darkest, least secure moments did it go quite like this. "But if I don't belong here..."

Lucy pulled away abruptly as a metallic clink echoed outside. She ran to the balcony doors and pawed at them.

"Is someone out there?" Cassie stood, her problems forgotten. Isabel gave a frightened yip. "Are you still here!?" Gone was her doubts, Cassie knew how to deal with trouble. She could hear the intruder now as well, grunting and breathing hard like some beast. "On the count of three, Lucy..."

------------------

You're out of shape, John thought as he coiled the rope and hook stolen from Rutledge's shed. No surprise, he spent most of his time on horseback. "Now, I just have to find a way to open the door.."

The door opened. Lucy charged out, appraised him critically, then pounced and licked, tail beating a staccato rhythm on the floor..

"Hey, stop that!" Preston shielded his face with his arms.

"John?" Cassie stepped out, a bronze paperweight still in her clenched fist. "Down, Lucy!"

"Guard dog?"

Rafferty smiled slightly, but it quickly faded. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. Can I come in, or shall we talk from the balcony?"

"Mrs. Rutledge says ... well, I don't think she said anything about men appearing at my window, so you might as well." She smiled again.

John could care less what Mrs. Rutledge said, but now might not be the time to share that opinion. He stepped into her room and stared at the giant bed, dresser, tables, sitting chairs. He whistled low. "Very pretty."

"Yes...they've been very generous."

"Does she come with the decor?"

"Isabel, get out of here!"

"Yes, miss." Isabel happily left the two lunatics. She was no sooner out the door then Preston spun Cassie about and hugged her.

"John!!"

"Shh."

"I didn't let you be so forward in '76 John Preston!" She sighed and sank her head onto his shoulder.

"I thought you were dead."

"I...I know. I didn't then. I tried to get a message through, but with the war..."

John released her. "It's alright now."

Cassie lowered her gaze. "No...not really."

"What do you mean?"

"A lot's happened, John....A lot. I'm not the woman you met."

"I'm not the man you met."

She ignored him and turned away. "I thought I could hide it, I thought I could be what you wanted, but I just don't fit in here."

"Be what I wanted? What the devil are you talking about?"

"Don't curse at me!" Her eyes blazed for a moment as she turned back, then dulled again. "You come from a good family John, whereas my pa was a tavern keeper and I don't remember my ma. I'm just not... one of you."

"One of me?" Preston stared, then abruptly he laughed - a short, barking, cynical sound. "You mean this!?" He waved his hand around the room.

"Yes. You're Carolina aristocracy, Mister Rutledge was quite particular..."

"Oh he was, was he? I may talk to him later about that."

"Please don't. Like I said, they've been kind."

Preston growled audibly. "If you'll recall, I always knew you were a tavern keeper's daughter. You really think I give a damn about any of this? Bugger them all!"

"Johnny..."

"Miss?" Isabel poked her head through the door. "Mrs. Rutledge asks, will you be returning to the..."

He slammed the door in her face and locked it.

"John!"

"I never judged you by your position," he growled, "Don't judge me by mine."

"I'm not judging you!" Cassie sat down heavily. "It's just..." He waited. "A lot's happened, John. I ... I don't want to be a burden anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Never mind."

Preston minded very much. "You are not a burden. You're my fiancé."

"I am!??"

She is!?? John paled and flushed in turn. "I mean...if you want, I mean, it would oblige me if .... God's death Cassie, I mean I thought I lost you once and ... a lot happened." He laughed sharply. "I don't plan on losing you again, I couldn't bear it."

She touched his scarred, canister marked face gingerly and cried.
 
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Aye, I'm quite interested in reading how the HonorableMr. Rutledge handles the blossoming true love taking place in his upper rooms!

Why do I have the feeling that he's going to enjoy it as much as he enjoyed the errant cannon shot that plowed into his house some time ago at the behest of a certain Thomas Heyward? :D
 
A nice touch, reminding us of the way Heyward used his artillery assignment to get even wit Rutledge. :) I always like little reminders like that, it helps to tie a story together and it creates a sense of history within the story.

"You are not a burden. You're my fiancé."
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When I skimmed this update last night, I misread the last word to be 'friend'. Rereading it this morning, I have to say it makes much more sense! :p True love at last! Now let's see how many pitfalls you'll put in John and Cassie's way before the end of this story...

Occasionally a black servant would appear with drinks as they chatted about wives and sweethearts, the condition of the human heart, sorrow and joy, the joy of the hunt, of besting your fellow man on a mercantile or legal matter, profitable deals from the past, profitable deals for the present...
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That's a great way of showing how the conversation drifted away from the topic of John's embarrassment to more 'relevant' discussion. It must be my favorite bit of writing of the whole post. :)
 
Yes, the post began wonderfully and flowed naturally from there - kept me intrigued the whole time even when I could see it coming.

And it will be very interesting, as others have noted, how not only Mr. Rutledge will look upon this, but Mrs. Rutledge too.

Great bit at the end - a bit impetuous, but the true heart coming to the surface. But one wonders what there is hidden in Cassie. I suspect we will find out at the same time John does.
 
I almost missed this update. Anyway, it was quite good. The imagine of an out of shape John Preston trying to scale the balcony with a makeshift grappling hook was rather amusing.
 
I think there's more to come because something doesn't smell right about this. (Maybe I'm smelling the dog) Whenever I see love blossoming out like roses on a bush I start looking for thorns. Mark my words fellow readers there's a train wreck ahead! :D

Joe
 
jwolf said:
Storey, I am shocked -- shocked! -- by your cynicism and lack of romanticism. Let our two young people have a few moments of happiness, OK? :D
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Its true I am a cynic. It happens when you get old. I used to have a rosy view of life. The sun was always over head. I had a bounce to my step. Hell I even had dimples in my rosy cheeks but those days are gone. See what all of you have to look forward to? :D So CatKnight can't fool me there's rapids around the next bend of this river called love. :p

Joe
 
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