Laura Stone (stoney321) wrote,
Laura Stone

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More of the Cecily Tale, as promised!

First, thanks to everyone in sharing my glee at slowly taking over the Texas branch of Master Gardeners and turning it into a heavy metal, porn worshipping society (albeit, bedecked in lovely and FRESH garlands of flowers.) Also, got a fantastic postcard from Wesley to Spike, as passed along by karabair, received a holiday card (yay!!) from meli_77 and smashsc!! So happy...

And now? More of The 12 Gifts of Christmas From Someone Beneath Me
Protagonist: Cecliy, pre Halfrek
Rating: PG-13 for violence and Vixtorian language (madam! Your tongue!)
Summary: Play on the 12 Days of Christmas song, and haven't you wondered what pushed Cecily, a fine upstanding woman of note, into becoming a Vengeance Demon?

December the Sixteenth
I discovered whilst dancing with George Blassingame, a treasured family friend, that no one had heard of the utterly ridiculous gifts that had been delivered to my door. I trust George completely with my horrid secret. He displayed the perfect level of outrage at the cheek of Mr. Haugh. To better, more brighter topics then.

Roger (for I may call him Roger, at his wish!) danced several numbers with me and told me of his recent trip to France on business. It seems his family is purchasing a large estate in the country and he had heard of my "eye for balance and colour" and wished for me to see it! Oh, the fantasy may soon become reality... Mother is calling. There seems to be a gift from France awaiting me! My heart shall surely break with joy...

Father said he will have the constable come around. Perhaps a doctor should be sent to the Haugh residence as well. Surely the man is not right in his head. The uproar being caused by the staff is frightening me. Have you any idea the scale of mess caused by such creatures? Father threatened the delivery boy with bodily harm, so upset was he at the sight of that contemptable bird and fruit tree again. Notwithstanding the gilt cages, with three new additions! Oh, ho, the "gift from France" was not what my heart had yearned for, yet three more birds. Hens! Two of them having laid eggs already and the delivery discharged them onto the marble floor of the foyer. What sense is there in giving me such gifts? The man doesn't even sign the cards. They are simply addressed to me in an even hand: For Cecily. I feel as if I am going mad....

No parties for me tonight. I shall stay close to home and help the younger children assemble the noise poppers and drink Wassail.

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