« Reply #1 on: July 02, 2013, 05:15:26 pm »
Chapter one, Thoughts of Brutus Tiberius Bjorn's admittance to the establishment as known as the Cleveland street workhouse.
The young cub must only have been no more than the tender age of 8 years or so, And was a more than well mannered boy if there ever was one. The bloodhound of a police officer who in the past hours had gained a slight affection towards this recently orphaned boy, stood with him in the office of the beadle, lined with its delicate and ornate oak carvings and the welcoming scent of burning tobacco, which emanated from the long pipes of a few various gentlemen positioned carefully around a large hardwood table that spanned the room, The eyes of which were all eagerly focused on this small boy, the fur beneath his eyes wet and tacky with the retching and crying that the friendly policeman had worked almost in vain to relieve earlier that night.
"And there is not a furson who could hope to take him in at such a time?" The beadle asked with great disdain, "I am afraid not sir" Said the hound whose deep brown eyes looked upon the young bears head with a most sincere compassion, "I would have offered him lodgings of my own accord if i was of a higher status and was not involved in such chaotic proceedings with the job that i undertake". the bear sniffed, The sweet smell of warm poppy seeds and butter in a heating dish flowing into his nostrils from the long table in front of him. An old eagle owl of a gentleman, who seemed strangely more well to do than even the beadle himself, but of a curious and kind disposition, looked at the cub over the top of his delicate brass half moon glasses with a warm smile, "Look up child" he ordered with an old and higher than usual voice, carrying with it a very upper class accent. He looked up tears still falling from his now reddening eyes, "I trust you are a good boy who obeys his elders?" The child nodded assent, "Yes sir" He said in a quivering voice, "And you are polite and know that to listen is to learn and that to obey god and say your prayers is the key to a grand life?" "Yes sir" Master Bjorn conceded, and lowered his head once more, only to be grasped by the shoulder with the firm paw of the officer in response to a quiet outburst of tears that followed his answer.
"The boy seems of good education and such manners too, He certainly knows his place too" The owl chirped up speaking enthusiastically, Nodding in the direction of the young ursine. "Ah, but a child comes at great expense of the parish dear rector" The beadle was a stout man with an expression which anyfur might take for ignorance but was more along the lines of great apathy, he was in the form of a rather thin pine marten with light brown and white fur, and was relatively young compared to the stuffy old furs who surrounded him. The owl let out a gery short sigh of urgency to express himself, "If i may though sir, He certainly is a far cry from the various ragamuffins and ungrateful urchins we so often attract, it would be a terrible shame to turn him down"
"Very well then" the beadle was more happy that the boy was not a baby, for they required the most investment from the parish of all, and the parochial powers that be, who were all in attendance in the room at that time, always made sure to put the contents of their pockets above the needs of the assorted paupers and orphans who seeked admittance to one of these workhouses, the process of which was definitely not enjoyable and was more or less the last resort and always lead to one of the most miserable of futures. There was one such case where a woman and baby were turned away die to the greed of the beadle at another such establishment and both of whom died not much later.
The pine marten sighed with noticable dismay, "What is the boy's name?" he said with a cold manner, "That would be a Master Brutus Bjorn sir" answered the officer, a little more content in knowing the boy would have a roof over his head from now on. But it goes without saying that he knew as well as most, the horrors of a workhouse, and he wished just as much as the young bear, that he could take hmi home himself. The beadle signed the book and the deed was done, "I hereby announce that the child, a Master Brutus Bjorn, now remains property of the Parish under obligation to accept him, and he shall be put to work in the mill across the road aways. you shall have one day of time in which to settle into the surroundings and rest and bathe, and you shall remain here until such a time that is deemed fit for departure. Get used to the workhouse child, it's your home now" he stared at the cub emotionlessly. "And make sure to pray every night for those who you see have helped you in your time of need" chirped the owl rector With echoes of hear hear heard around the room in agreement.
Out in the hall, Bjorn bid a wailing and teary eyed farewell to the officer who assured him they would meet again, and was escorted to his bed space, a small wooden rectangle filled with straw bedding and a sheet along with a scratchy woolen blanket, a small part of a row of these spaces, which contained many deeply sleeping children, younger and older than Bjorn, the sleeping hall contained almost 100 such spaces. He lay down sobbing still, and soon fell asleep. That night he dreamt of nothing.
« Last Edit: July 03, 2013, 07:10:10 pm by The bear guy »
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* The bear guy * "There's many a slip twixt the cup and the lip." ~ Henry McCarty ^_~
