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oh-theres-a-woman · 5 years ago

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Flowers in a Peaked Cap; Part One

A/N: Heres to attempt two at writing this author’s note… Let’s just say, I haven’t perfected the art of saving drafts. Note to self to actually find out how to make the draft before losing three solid paragraphs of rambling about the story… Sophie Points; Nil. Laptop/Internet Points; One. Welp, honestly internet and laptop have won a hell of a lot more than that. Just don’t remember how many times I’ve lost work because of not quite understanding how to post on here…. Safe to say I’m still a noob.

Any hoot! Enough rambling about that stuff.

After posting the first piece to this story; in the very very early hours of this morning. I couldn’t help but feel the massive urge to continue and work on the more of Tillie’s little adventure. It made me want to think about her as a person outside the relatives that we already know. What this girl’s goals are and ambitions. Unlike the rest of her family, I think she has a relatable amount of vulnerability and anxieties that are more from society’s working in the 1920s compared to her brothers; Arthur, Thomas and John that all suffer war-related mental illness and scars.

Actively she’s a romantic escapist that wants to make her brothers and aunt proud. Making a name for herself in the means of writing and exploring the tales that are brewed from the memories of old days.

In the progression of this story, I want to be able to explore the growth in Tillie as a young woman. The stepping out of her brothers’ shadows and coming into her own. Growing into a more confident young woman that could be from meeting new people like in this chapter and moving away from her fears.

I do see romance in this story, something like and full of all the trend first experience one faces at one stage or another. In terms of smut, I’d think it’s lighter and would be something that is worked towards. Tillie to me doesn’t seem rather lust-driven. So, it’ll happen if it does, and if not; its simply because Tillie Shelby isn’t interested in that sort of thing.

Important note; I’ll be working on organising the Taglist a little more throughout my next few posts. Please notify me if you’re interested in anything specifically and want tags there or if you mind just being on the general tag list and included in every story I post. Thank you!!!

Requested By; @csigeoblue

Parts; [ Prologue ]

Taglist; @zodiyack, @itsfrancisneptun, @amys-small-world, @fandom-fucking-shit, @hesagod-notyet, @hinagiku0, @dylanlover24, @amirahiddleston, @a-dorky-book-keeper, @theamuz, @csigeoblue, @smallheathgangsters, @beautycinders

Word Count; 1400

Watery Lane wasn’t the play that supported the wild fantasy’s of Tillie Shelby, but the little bookshop that was filled with many hopefuls or lads that were born a little more well off collectively grouped together. Reading the stories they wrote. This gathering was apparently one that caught the attention of the paper since the known publishers and well-off lads from another book club around England had found themselves doing a sort of travel for their source material.

Since the profile of this club of prolific writers had taken interest in the area of Small Heath and its inhabitants. Inviting upstart writers or aspiring tellers to come and meet them. So, onward the youngest Shelby strolled until she pulled open the door of the quaint little bookshop. The signal of her arrival was the sound of her kitten heels and the ringing of the bell on the door. Doe-like blue eyes that were like the crystal-clarity of the purest of water found themselves settling on a group of well-dressed gentlemen. Her eyes flicker between some faces she knew of Small Heath, most of them being the arseholes she went to school with and thought themselves privy to a better life.

It wasn’t that Tillie didn’t believe they weren’t welcome to it. Mostly, it was the way they treated people in order to get there the young woman didn’t quite agree with. She was rather foolish coming to her though since her brother’s had a very vision about how the Shelby family should be seen. Their measures to getting things done with it were also less than admirable. Perhaps, it was the fact that Billy Bronson, James Fitz and Joe Gilbert made hers and Finn’s school life a living hell one way or another. But, it also made it seem extremely unfair to talk to their older brothers about what happened. Since most knew better than to fuck with the kin of the Peaky Blinders.

Plooms of cigarette smoke clouded in the air, filling the bookstore with a spiced herbal infusion and rippled tailored sticks of tobacco. Moving her gaze from the lads she knew; to the new arrivals. The youngest of the Shelby mob offered a little smile. “Is there room for one more?” Tillie finally spoke up, pulling her book that contained the novel she had poured hours and hours over. Smiling hopefully. Arms hugging the expensive leather made book that her brothers banded together in the hopes for a lovely birthday present in the days before the war.

Hoping that she’d fill in with various things she enjoyed to draw, but instead, Tillie hadn’t touched it until she was old enough to respect things. Asking Aunt Pol to help her keep in a safe place until then. Scraps of paper were best for sketches in any case.

Eyes ever hopeful looked at the posher sort, some seemed wary until a certain collared lad smiled and offered a little nod then the place he’d been sitting. Away from the boys that seemed to make life a little more bothersome. “Thank you,” she whispered, settling down in the seat. Resting the book down on her lap before looking to the other lads who straightened their composure.

“We were all about to introduce ourselves since we’ve never travelled outside of London for such a meeting before. Yet, it seemed like a brilliant idea when bought up. Birmingham seemed like the best place, so raw and thrilling. Small Heath alone.” Spoke finally a lad in a handsome waist-coat, the colouring of coal, stiff collar and matching suit made her think of it being something her brother; Tom would wear. Only on the best occasions, or when he was dressing-to-impress. Unlike Thomas, this lad had handsome hazel eyes, the slightest tan to his skin like he enjoyed the frolicking on the beach. His name was Walter, but everyone called him, Walt.

“Even the presence of criminal activity and organisations like the Peaky Blinders, it does make the area a prize for writing. Wouldn’t you agree, lads,” spoke up for eccentric Norman, who took delight in the thing that only made Tillie smile in a measure of great awkwardness. The name seemed to follow her everywhere she went, and there was a measure of awkwardness for that. “Sorry, miss, I didn’t quite mean to be so rude, it’s just you don’t seem the sort to know much on that end, too kind and pretty, huh?” Norm covered himself for any form of rudeness that could have been interpreted.

Only causing a polite little lowering of her head, as her hands wrapped anxiously around her book’s spine. Before relaxing at the conversation drifting off elsewhere. Sobering to the notion that the following cough from Joe Gilbert had goosebumps appearing on her arms. Causing a vast amount of discomfort in the young woman. Tillie traded glances with the nicer of the Londoner’s; Robert. Whom quickly coughed to get things back on track.

“In any case, back to the introductions. We shouldn’t dwell too long on the story topics if we’ve lacked the proper course of introduction. Shall I start?” Robert spoke up, settled against set up for the purpose of meetings. “My name is Robert Augustine, myself and these other gentlemen,” he said, gesturing to the others in the group of London lads.

“Are from a collective of young men that wish to write and publish arts. Never before have we had a lady join us, but surely in this modern world we’d be able to welcome the bright minds of femininity amongst us. After all, lady authors are blooming into the publishing world more and more with each generation.” His words seemed to still the anxiousness within her soul at the agreement of his other companions. Looking forward to seeing a hand extended to her, Robert allowed her to stand. The mix of coarseness and softness met between the two palms meet.

Holding her book, Tillie looked down smiling a little at her feet. Hugging her book to her chest, like it was the most precious thing to her. That was… Because it truly was the thing that held so much value to her heart. Her right hand still gently in the hold of the Londoner, cheeks lightly warming. “I’m Tillie Shelby, and I like to write about my brothers, their stories before the war. When we were kids,” she lit up sweetly talking of her brothers. Her hand and Robert’s naturally finding it parting, before he settled in his spot by the desk. Arms folding at his chest with a little smile.

“Would you be willing to share any of those stories?” Robert asked in a light voice. Tillie could only think of one response.

“Would I ever,” she beamed with a presence that seemed to warm the room and the quiet little shop around them. Settling down into her seat once more, she didn’t think about when the others were introducing themselves. Instead, she found herself lost within stories. The more whimsical tales of lads that laughed and partied. Or the ones that filled with a warmth that made her think of the family that suppressed or lost who they were before the war. Among them, none had known those woes and horrors.

They’d seen things happen on the outside. Felt the absence of a brother, father, uncle or grandfather that either died or lost what kept to their memory that their younger-selves recalled. Tillie was young then. Merely a baby in some regard. But she couldn’t ever forget the days of laughter, wherein night terrors; her heroes would just come up and curl into the undersized cot she called a bed. Soothing their fingers along with the softness of infant or child hairs–that had yet to understand dryness or damage.

When business didn’t entirely rule the Shelby family but happened in the background. Those were her tales. The tales of rawness and loss from a different scene. Where her brothers; the men who took over the role of an absent father, became; fathers, uncles, older brothers and best friends. And… Pol became the only mother she ever knew and remembered. Her voice spoke of the volumes to family values and how terrible things broke people. Yet, she never uttered their names aloud.

Only recording them within her mind when she read the tales that meant something to one of her brothers. Art. Tom. John.

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shapeshifting-arch-mage · 6 years ago

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12/04/2018

Raver Temmie and I fly on our broom to the Island. When was the last time we were here? We've come here again because we need to buy some glowsticks to pass out to the partygoers who've agreed to come to our private rave party. The one that we never got around to having because we went to Baku's rave over at Port Town's dance club. Now that was an experience.

"hey tem?"

"ya, hooman?"

"wen we get back, were gonna rite Baku a nice thank yu lettr, okay?"

"ooo, yaya!! thank u letr!! dats a grate idea!!1!" We fly our broom to the seaside store, which, unbeknownst to us, now has a new owner...

Raver Temmie and I fly our broom to the seaside store, where we'd last browsed for glowsticks. We dismount our broom, put it back inside our hat, and open the door. "i hope dis time i can find some-"

...The store looks different. We do not remember the store looking like this when we were last here. We step inside and close the door behind us. "h-hooman...?"

"yea?"

"wat happend to da store??"

"i dunno, its been a wile since we wer here. maybe sum1 redecorated it?"

We haven't seen who that someone is just yet, but if he were to look at the one who'd just entered his store, he'd see a bipedal Temmie in a pointy hat who appeared to be having a conversation with herself, as if she were two people.

"ok, but who did it?"

"i dunno." Our eyes look left and right as we take turns talking out of the same mouth.

[Salandit] The lizard frowned a little, holding the sandwich in its mouth. So... he could take random trash he didn't want, give it to this person, and they'd give him sandwiches...? ...He'd have to remember that, then. His tail flicked once more, and... before Jevil even finished his sentence, he was out the door- running at full speed towards... somewhere.

[Jevil] Jevil exhaled happily, tail wagging a bit. From his perspective, it had worked. It now knew the basics of capitalism. He laughed a little, having been greatly amused with the creature. Now though, he had a new priority. His small pointed ears shot up at the sound of the entrance bell and his attention was drawn to the newcomer: some sort of anthropomorphic white cat/dog. Them holding a conversation with themself was slightly off-putting to Jevil, but he wouldn't judge! Well at least he wouldn't let himself be too nervous, he had to serve this creature after all!

"Hello, hello to you, you! You come seeking wares is that true, true? Well, well tell me what you're looking for and I'll see what I can do, do!" Jevil wore his iconic joyous grin, mitten covered hands tucked beneath his chin as he awaited an answer.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Whoa! What was that that just darted by?! We flinch a little as the Salandit runs out the door. Once the door closes again, we turn back towards the counter and...

...Oh dear lord, what the heck is HE doing here?! He's not supposed to be out of his cell! We flinch again when he greets us, and begin to shiver, a look of dread forming on our face as he talks. After he finishes, our shivering culminates in a shudder as we cry out, "w-w-waaaaah!" We then hide our face behind our front paws.

[Jevil] He blinked once at the flinching reaction, deciding that it was only due to how loud he can become and often is to counteract the quieting nature of the shop's fabric walls. His voice would trail off somewhat as he noticed the shaking and expression. Maybe if he was quieter when he next spoke, this customer would be more comfortable here. The shudder and tears truly did distress the imp-like being, causing him to recoil a bit and spend a bit trying to figure out what he had said to cause such a reaction. Or maybe this person had very recently heard the rumors he had spread in his own world. He tensed a bit, taking in a breath, holding his hands out in front of him in the universal sign of harmlessness.

"H-hey calm down, calm down I say! There is no need for tears and no need for fears, I promise you won't be hurt, dears!" He had mainly pluralized it for the sake of rhyming rather than any knowledge of the newcomer's state.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Eugh, that voice... our shivering subsides somewhat, but not entirely. And did he just call us dears? Nnnngh...

We gingerly lower our paws from our face. They feel a bit moist... did we stain them with a tear or two? Oh geez, I didn't even notice- now that I think about it, our eyes do feel a little wet. How embarrassing...

"w-w-w-w-wat'd yu do to da store???"

[Jevil] "Just a little bit of renovation. I added a little things here and there to create what i saw in my imagination! Uee hee hee, and what a creation i've worked to see, see! No harm either considering the shop belongs to me, me!" He couldn't help but smile at the sensation of pride that whirled around in his stomach and warmed his chest. Jevil knew that there could have been countless others who sought this job and store, so he couldn't help but pride himself in the fact that the higher-ups, whoever they might be, had chosen him as the shopkeeper. No matter the poor experiences he has had so far, the bird-based robbery and the assault via spaghetti, he couldn't help but be happy and excited for all the new faces he'll be able to bring smiles to. His T ended tail swayed gently as he stared off into the distance at the thoughts.

Jevil was somewhat embarrassed when he emerged from his little day-dream. "Well, well now that you know my little slice of the resort, may I ask what wares you seek with some importe?"

[Rave Witch Temmie] "i... uh... um..." Oh geez, the little snot's gone and taken over the place, has he? Well, isn't that just faaaaan-tastic!

"human, whys a scary clown guy in da store??" Temmie thinks to me.

"Er, um, well, I don't know, but I'm pretty sure he's actually a jester." I think back.

"watsa jester??"

"It's just what it sounds like- someone who jests."

"wats that mean??"

"You know... they tell jokes, and act silly..."

"u mean liek a clown??"

"Er..."

...Well, she's got a point there. I suppose if you think of it that way, they are kind of the same thing. Anyway, back to answering said clown/jester/whatever's question. We glance to the side, unable to bring ourselves to make eye contact with him.

"i was, uh... i was g-gonna hav a hapy fun rave party... a-and i-i needa get some stuff..."

"Glowsticks." I remind her mentally.

"o-oh ya!1! glowsticks!!" We say, looking at Jevil briefly before averting our gaze once more, "i needa glowsticks for my friends at da party... i came hear to buy sum befor but dere werent none..."

[Jevil] "Glowsticks, glowsticks..." He echoes in thought, mentally running through his stock, trying to determine if he would have them. For a while he didn't think so until he recalled their wide colour variety and knew where he would have stored them. Her perks up with excitement and giggles.

"Yes, yes I think I have a set in the back, I wouldn't think glowsticks would be something we would lack, lack! Wait here a second and I'll return with the items, I reckon!" With that, the leapt down from his chair, landing with a small thud and symphony of bell jingles. He remained in a crouching position for a second, showing just how small the once-court jester was, before he bounded into the back, passing through the fabric flaps that had matched seamlessly into the wall. A series of bells and other noises emitted from the back room as Jevil scurried about to find the glowsticks he was increasingly certain he had. He remembered having some in his old shop and had brought along many of his unsold wares from there when he moved his base of operations to the island. Where, oh where, though?

Jevil leaned backwards, holding himself up with his tail as he looked through the massive selection of colorful items, a few dozen pinwheels, plastic flowers, ball-pit balls, glow- There they were! He grabbed the glass jar filled with the unused tubes of chemicals and bounced out from the back.

"I return, return with the items you yearn! I have about twenty four glowsticks as you can see here, here now, lean in close, lend an ear: 2 of whatever you have for money each, it's a rather fine deal I preach!"

[Rave Witch Temmie] Once he goes to the back room and out of our sight, Temmie whispers to me, "whys he so scaryyyy...??"

"uh, cuz of his creepy face an' his creepy voice an' his, uh, "chaos chaos" thing, or sumthin?" I whisper back.

"wats dat???" She asks.

"i dunno, youd have to ask him!" I reply.

...Wait, I shouldn't have said that. I don't want us to ask him- oh no, he's back. Wait, are those... Hey, look at that, he does have glowsticks! Who would have thought?

"...Lean in close and lend an ear? ...Really?" I think, "Hardee har har. Just because we have four ears doesn't mean we're lending that creep any of 'em!"

"uh... o-okay, y-ya, ill buy em all..." We nervously approach the counter and pay 24 credits.

[Jevil] He giggled slightly, eyeing the 24 credits.

"I believe you miscounted, miscounted! 24 credits is only enough for half of the glowsticks, not all of them, them!" He seemed rather amused by the situation though, holding onto the product a little while longer as he waited to see if they will accept only half or seek out the remaining 24 credits to pay. He thankfully seemed to be rather patient, his tail wagging slightly as he hoped up onto his chair, putting the jar of glowsticks on the counter.

"Now now, would you like to pay the full price for all of them, them, or pay what you've already paid and take only half of them, them?"

"awawawa!!1 oh nooo!1 im sorry!11! heres da rest!1!"

We quickly put 24 more credits on the counter and then take a few steps back. Geez Louise, what is with us tonight? We already embarrassed ourselves in front of this guy once; we just had to go and do it again, didn't we! Sheesh...

[Rave Witch Temmie] ...Oh, wait- the glowsticks. We can't pick them up from over here. We'll need to walk back toward him to get them- actually, no, we won't! That's right! We're a Temmie! We stick our arms out in front of us and stretch them towards the jar of glowsticks.

[Jevil] He gave an amused laugh, happily accepting the payment and pushing the jar forwards towards them, blinking as they backed away. Frankly Jevil really wasn't sure what to make of this person, he was completely unfamiliar with Temmies after all.

"It's alright, alright! You can take the glowsticks whenever you'd li-" He was taken aback by the way the customer's arms seemed to just burst forward towards him. He looked absolutely horrified for a moment, recoiling as far back as he could, taking in these rapid, quick breaths. He had his eyes squeezed shut, not opening them up again until he thought it was safe. He pressed a gloved hand into his chest. Nothing happened. He was ok. He was ok. Seam didn't come back for revenge. It's ok. He's fine. Jevil took in a deep, shaky breath.

"Sorry I... I wasn't expecting that, that..."

[Rave Witch Temmie] Whoa, hold on... we scared HIM? Are we seeing this right? Did he just dart back behind the curtains again when we reached for the jar? You've got to be kidding... He's the creepy one, not us! What's so scary about us stretching our arms out, we wonder? Maybe being in this body for so long has made me forget that Temmies can be off-putting to those who aren't used to being around them...

We grasp the jar between our paws and then retract them towards us.

"uh... y-yu ok??" We call out.

[Jevil] "Y-yes, yes! I'm ok! Just- just shaken is all, all..." He emerged still looking very much unnerved. He fidgeted with his thumbs almost as if trying to distract himself from something, yellow eye-dots tiny in residual fear. He glanced off, making sure not to look at the creature's arms, part of him terrified they'll come after him again if he looks.

"Just shaken..." He repeats, taking in a deep breath. He tries to shake himself out of the fear, forcing a small smile until it became genuine. "But don't worry about that now, now, if there anything else you want or shall we say ciao?"

[Rave Witch Temmie] "is dere, uh..." Temmie remembers something she wanted to ask him. The thing I didn't want her to ask him.

"Temmie, no! Don't-"

"w-wats ur "chaos, chaos" thing?? human dint want me to- mmf!"

Since both our paws are full, I press the jar against our mouth to silence her.

[Jevil] "My chaos, chaos thing?" He seems confused for a moment, wondering what they could be referring to. Perhaps a combination of his repetition and his shop's title perhaps?

"Well if you're asking about the shop's name, that's easy, easy! It's important, so important not to fall into routine or it could suck up all your glee, glee! So I made a little shop back home just like this one, one where people can come and buy the things they need while also having a little fun, fun!" He giggles happily, tail wagging, mind seemingly off whatever had him so terrified before.

"As for saying things twice, twice, well I'm just following my own advice! Keep things fun, keep things nice, and life is sure to entice, entice!"

[Rave Witch Temmie] Sigh... why'd she have to ask him that...? Thanks to her, we had to listen to him yap at us in that spooky voice again! Though, on the other hand, I'm now very confused by his answer. We were not talking about this store, or his quirky speech patterns, at all. I had wanted to leave as soon as we'd bought our glowsticks, but now, I'm curious as to why he didn't seem to know what we were really referring to.

I decide to take control of our mouth from Temmie for a moment, and ask, "yu had anothr store? wat yu mean?? what happend to da cat guy??"

[Jevil] His mood shifted to discomfort at the mention of "da cat guy". Well, there was another question in there so he could ignore that part for longer.

"Yes, yes, I had another store, store. I opened it myself after the King decided he didn't want a court jester anymore, anymore. I could have done anything, anything indeed, but I thought that a shop of fun is what the kingdom would need. Then, then just recently, I got a letter in the mail, mail asking if I would be interested in coming here to do sale! I took it, took it I did, and that's why the island I now work amid!"

[Rave Witch Temmie] We shiver a little again as we listen to his creepy, singsong rhyming.

"yea, but, wat about dat cat guy, da one wit da button eye?"

Oh geez, now he's got us rhyming, too! Curses!

"i thot he was suppost to hav a store!1"

[Jevil] Oh god they really were talking about him. Jevil's pupils started to shrink again, seeming to grow panicked again. He seemed to grab onto his tail for comfort.

"I know who you're talking about but not what. Seam went mad years, years ago, it was very unfortunate... I just hope that now that his life in done, he isn't insane in heaven." He seems to be shaking a bit, really not wanting to recall those memories. That battle. That grin. By god, that grin. He tried squeezing it out of his mind, pressing his eyes shut and holding his head. That grin. That grin. It persisted even as Jevil had watched Seam rip his arm half-off to use as a weapon. He let loose a whine, shivering.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Our face goes blank. "...hes ded??"

[Jevil] Jevil nodded, trying to return to reality the best he could. Trying to pry himself away from the memories. Away from that battle. Jevil had technically won, but that did nothing to help his conscious. He held onto his tail tightly.

"Yes... Yes the once magician is gone, gone like the rain, only I, the once jester, remain."

[Rave Witch Temmie] Our jar of glowsticks in hand, we take several more steps back, uneasy at the thought of Seam being dead. Or at least I am. Temmie doesn't know who he is. While Jevil laments his loss, we back out the door with our purchase.

#discord #discord rp #undertale temmie #deltarune #deltarune jevil #jevil

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