June 2nd, 1893 - Bartonburg Streets

Elsie knew very well she shouldn’t be up and walking around town, but she felt a little miserable both physically and emotionally and so thought a trip home to see her mother would do her some good. Tyb wasn’t home to stop her and neither her housekeeper nor the nanny were going to dissuade her from a little walk. The need to get out of her own space led her to the short walk to her childhood home and a nice long scolding by Stella, but after that Elsie was quite content. It had been good for her body and mind to get a little adult time, leave Bentley with Miss Halliwell for the afternoon and walk out some of the stiffness in her joints.

Of course her mother had insisted she leave not too long after she’d arrived and sent a maid with her, but Els was too old for this nonsense and far too married and pregnant to need a chaperon. Fortunately the maid remembered some sort of errand she needed to conduct and Elsie was eager to shoo her away to fulfill another duty.

The going was slow and Elsie had been experiencing a contraction or two for a couple of days now, but it hadn’t been that long ago that she’d had Bentley, and this felt different, so she was confident that this was just practice. Fortunately the sun was out and there was a light breeze and though her waddle was at a snail’s pace, she was happy to take in the fresh air— that was until a contraction stopped her in her tracks. A small gasp escaped her lips as she breathed through it, wondering if she’d made a grave mistake.

It passed after a moment and once she got her air back, Elsie decided to quicken her pace. She only made it a few houses down the row when another contraction gripped her. These felt far more like active labor and the alarm was clear on her features. If Bentley’s delivery was anything to go by, she may not make it home! Gripping the fence beside her tightly, Elsie tried to breathe through the fresh wave of pain and panic, but felt wholly unprepared for this!

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Open to anyone (or multiple someones!) on a North Bartonburg lane, could be a local resident, somebody walking by,
or whoever’s home she’s standing in front of! Come have a public baby with me!
I'm highly motivated to have fun with this and finish it!

The following 3 users Like Elsie Kirke's post:3 users Like Elsie Kirke's post
   Basil Foxwood, Delilah Warbeck, Tybalt Kirke

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Cleon had been crashing at the home of one of his Bartonburg cohorts. He had been there for only two days or so. He had woken up and decided he might as well go for a walk. The weather was decent these days. He had little to nothing on his mind which was how he preferred things to be. He supposed he ought to be lining up his next temporary place of residence but he would deal with that later.

He had not been far in his walk when he noticed a semi-familiar face up ahead. The wife of one his friends. A very pregnant wife and one of the major factors as to why he never tried talking Tybalt Kirke into providing him space on their couch. She looked to be in some type of way and selfish soul as he was, he didn't think it quite right to just walk away when the wife of a friend was in such clear distress.

"Mrs. Kirke? Do you need help getting home?" Cleon asked, kind of hoping she would say no. What if that baby dropped out of her while they were walking or something? It wasn't like he knew or cared to know how the little things actually got out of a woman.

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Els had managed to make it through the last contraction, but was very fearful that her active labor had begun and she was still streets away from home! Her mother was going to kill her for sending away the maid and Tyb would lose his marbles to know she'd left the house in this state. She was starting to regret the stubbornness that had propelled her from home this morning, but she had too much else to worry about now.

A voice interrupted her thoughts and Elsie looked up to find a friend of Tyb's looking back at her, asking if she needed help getting home. If only she could remember his name, she wouldn't feel quite so foolish. Well, she felt incredibly foolish right about now, but for a wildly different reason. "Oh, no, I'll be alright. It's only a little ways. Just overexerted myself today." She was never the kind to be a burden even when she was clearly in a state. "Thank you though." Els smiled as best as she could.

The contraction had passed anyway and Elsie was determined to use the time between them to move as fast as her very swollen legs could carry her closer to home. She pushed off the fence and continued her trek, making it a few more houses down when another contraction stopped her progress.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Cleon kind of wanted to take her words at face value and go on his merry way. But ugh, he had a prickle of conscience. He should at least escort her home or something, right? She moved along and didn't make it too far before she was stopping again. Yeah, he couldn't just leave her on her own.

"I'll help you get home. Tybalt might tan my hide otherwise," he said in jest as he moved a little closer and offered an arm.

Please don't have that thing while I'm walking with you, he thought fervently to himself.

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The following 1 user Likes Cleon Broadmoor's post:1 user Likes Cleon Broadmoor's post
   Tybalt Kirke

Bartonburg wasn’t a place that Cliff visited often, but now that he had friends, and those friends wanted to actually see him. He wasn’t sure what Daffy wanted, it certainly wasn’t to hang out for fun because they weren’t that level of friends, but somehow she’d managed to talk him into visiting Bartonburg for something. Si here he was, hands shoved into his pockets as he prowled the streets of Bartonburg, wishing that he could recall the house number he’d given her — Cliff hadn’t considered bringing it with him because he swore that he’d remember.

Irritated at him, Cliff’s eyebrows knitted together at the sound of a woman in distress, and really, he wasn’t the kind of person to make sure anyone was okay. Excluding Ida, who would be mortified if he didn't at least make sure she was dying. Plus, if she wasn’t dying, he could probably take her valuables under the guise of checking on her. Deciding that was the best course of action, Cliff stepped up near her and cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Are you dying? Because there are better places to do that than outside.” He wrinkled his nose. If she did just collapse it would be very suspicious if he was to rummage through her belongings. Better she do that cutting through a backyard where there weren’t any peeping neighbors. Just had to worry about the guy next to her, but Cliff's specialty was stealing in broad daylight.

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Broadmoor! That was it! Elsie managed, through the contraction, to remember the gentleman's name. At least she had that going for her. It was a rare moment of clarity at a time like this. This pause was quicker than the last. The irregularity of time between and duration urged Elsie forward once more. Once they came at regular intervals, she was doomed. Bentley's delivery hadn't been short by any means, but her mother had warned her this next one could go more quickly, her body having done it before remembered the steps.

"I suppose I could use the help." Mr. Broadmoor had graciously kept pace and she took his offered arm, trying not to squeeze too hard. "It's just around the corner." One more street down, then halfway down Lion's Roar. She could do this.

Another, this time unfamiliar, voice asked a rather abrupt question and Elsie turned her head to look at the source. Brows furrowed in a rare flare of annoyance, she decided to ignore the comment, choosing instead to focus on her destination. That was of course until another intense contraction gripped her, stopping her once again. Her breath came in ragged pants as she tried not to cry out.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Mrs. Kirke took his offered arm despite Cleon wishing that she wouldn't. Not that he let that show on his face. He wasn't that crass. "One step at a time, that's it," he urged, not sure if that was really helping or not. He was more or less reassuring himself, really.

Then came along a younger man who was.. quite nice to look at actually. But that was besides the point right now. "She isn't dying," he supplied, mentally adding I hope. But her and Tybalt had a baby before so he figured she was going to be fine. "She's going to be fine, just have to get her home."

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The following 1 user Likes Cleon Broadmoor's post:1 user Likes Cleon Broadmoor's post
   Elsie Kirke

If there was one thing Cliff didn’t like, it was being ignored. The lady seemed like she was actually dying, even as the man confirmed that he wasn’t. Well, maybe that’s what he wanted Cliff to think, although even he realized that didn’t make much sense. Cliff shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he came up to the other side of the mean lady.

Intrigued by the idea of being inside a Bartonburg home (Cliff would just invite himself in because why not?), he nodded. It was more for himself because he had brilliant ideas, but maybe it was reassuring to them too. “Yeah, well, I’ll bring up the rear in case she decides to not die and fall back instead.” Brown eyes turned toward the lady then as he fished his hand out of his pocket, holding something out for her. “Wanna mint? Might help with… whatever this is.” Didn’t really occur to him that she was pregnant. Not yet at least.

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Fortunately she was spared from having to reply, Mr. Broadmoor taking care of that for her. While she was sure she may very well be scarring these men for life, she was grateful for the help.

Leaning heavily on Cleon, Elsie had to keep going, each contraction was a problem, but at least they had reached the corner. The other gentleman came up alongside her and she sighed softly. "I appreciate the offer, but I cannot." It certainly didn't seem like a good idea to have a mint while she was trying to breathe properly through the pain.

As another contraction took hold, she stopped, her free hand reaching out to the other man's arm, holding tight to keep herself upright. She breathed through it sharply, seeing their fenceposts down the lane, focusing on them like a sailor seeing land for the first time in a while. "It's just there." Mr. Broadmoor knew, at least she hoped.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

It would actually be helpful to have another soul here so Cleon was grateful for that. He didn't know how much of a comfort that would be to Mrs. Kirke though. "Smart thinking," he said, tossing a smile the younger mans way. Oh, what a deliciously adorable head of hair the man had. Why oh why did he have to be meeting this man while dealing with a woman about to burst forth with new life?

Oh thank Merlins underpants, he could see Tyb's house from here. And at least this time she was gripping the other man instead of him as another of her - pains? Was that what it was called? - took hold. "Not too far to go now," Cleon doubly assured before turning to look over at the young man. "It's just down the lane there." He had no idea who he was. Again, he was just thankful to not have been left alone with a distressed, pregnant woman.

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Cliff shrugged as she declined his offer, and had it not been weird, he would have offered the mint to the other gentleman. But, he was selfish and a mint sounded really good now, so he unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. He hovered on the other side of her, hands shoved back into the depths of his pocket — if she fell, which she seemed like she was going to do because Cliff wasn’t convinced she wasn’t dying, she was shit out of luck because he wouldn’t be able to catch her in time.

“Just over there.” Cliff parroted like it meant something to him, although her arm wrapping around his made him pause. He turned toward her with wide eyes, and cleared his throat. “I can run ahead and get someone, if ya want?” Because that sounded better than being trapped in this death grip. “Or, I dunno, a piggyback ride.” Cliff leaned back to look behind her toward the other gentleman. “You can spot her to make sure she doesn’t fall. She doesn't look ah… that heavy, right?”

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

"No, no, we're almost there." The scolding she was about to receive from their housekeeper kept her from agreeing to send their new company ahead. She was not amused by the idea of being carried either so Elsie fought her way up the lane, walking and stopping with each pause and pain, and by the time they reached the gate to her garden, she could have cried with relief.

Truthfully, she had no idea how she was going to make it up the stairs to the house, but at least she was in her own yard and with the gate closed, afforded some level of privacy. "If one of you would just knock on the door to get the houseke—" She had started to say when that familiar urge to push overcame her and she once again felt the baby move down, ready to come out. She gasped in surprise, looking around for where she could possibly put herself for what came next. Thankfully it appeared Miss Halliwell had neglected to pick up the blanket she and Bentley had used to play outside this morning and Elsie breathed through the pain, surging forward toward to lower herself onto the blanket; she really didn't have much time for anything else.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Okay… so maybe the other guy was too involved with his thoughts or making sure the woman wasn’t going to die (Cliff still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t the case) to hear him. So he shrugged and moved forward as the woman finally decided she wanted someone to knock on the door for help, muttering that he could do that. As he turned to look at her to ask for the housekeeper’s name, it suddenly dawned on Cliff that she was pregnant as he watched her lower herself to the blanket… and was probably giving birth. Gross. No way in hell he was sticking around for this disaster.

Making his way toward the door, Cliff gave it a few heavy knocks to gather the attention of the people inside before he backed up, his nose wrinkling. He obviously wasn’t going to be invited inside and even he had morals not to rob a pregnant lady, so without another word he apparated away with a small pop! Daffy was going to owe him big for this disaster.

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]