Prompt Post 2
Welcome to the second round of the_eagle_kink .
Please see the rules before posting.
Please check our delcious account before prompting.
Happy Kink, everyone.
~CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS~
Please see the rules before posting.
Please check our delcious account before prompting.
Happy Kink, everyone.
~CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS~
- MORE MOD NOTES: Alright guys I know this fandom is really into historical accuracy and all that jazz but here's the thing. This is a KINK MEME and therefore historical accuracy is not ( Read more... )
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
Reply
**********************************************************
Chapter 2
In which the Rev. St. John kedges his way to Calcutta, attempts to visit a Bishop, meets a Singularly Helpful Man and discovers that in Travel, as in Life, the Devil is in the Details.The final 100 miles of his voyage were such a torment to St. John that he nearly, on more than one occasion, considered demanding passage off the ship in order to cross the remaining distance on foot. Wind, sand and tide all worked in concert to delay his arrival. Specifically, every time the current moved towards Calcutta the wind blew away; by the time the wind shifted toward Calcutta the current flowed into the Bay of Bengal. To make an already challenging situation worse, the proud river Ganges had been silting for decades, a problem known to the British Army Corps of Engineers but not yet solved. This served to make the ( ... )
Reply
Once safely docked in Calcutta, St. John bid a hasty farewell to the Rev. Hollum (the good man was continuing up the river to Hugli, there to claim his position as assistant rector for the newly-formed parish) and began determining how to make his next step.
Lord, as we are to be grateful in all situations I thank Thee for sending the Rev. Hollum to be my companion on this journey. Test me and tempt me ( ... )
Reply
The customs official had assured St. John that a rickshaw was far preferable to traveling through the city on foot, but as he clung with whitened knuckles while the native raced over cobblestone streets, a bone-bruising jolt past parasoled ladies and peasant carts and beggars with twisted legs, he wondered if it was merely a matter of becoming accustomed to the conveyance or if he was the butt of some foolish joke. He kept his face stern and dispassionate, but churned inside with nervous tension and sensations even more concerning; the mal de mer he never experienced at sea had apparently chosen to finally visit him on land. The need to make less haste became more pressing, and he leaned forward to request his runner move slower.
“Dhimi, accha mahodaya krpaya ja'o!”
His request was resolutely ignored. St. John thumped his fist angrily upon one of the two wooden poles the native ran between. The native, without breaking stride, turned his head to peer questioningly at his English passenger.
“ ( ... )
Reply
“Accha dopahara, sahaba! Maim Rev. St. John Rivers hum, Stoke-on-Trent ke dera se.”
The clerk smiled a merry smile and replied “Kalakatta, srimana apaka svagata hai! Tuma sabase yahamm svagata hai-but perhaps you would prefer we continue in English? I can assure you it will make our conversation more easy, as my Hindu has faded with time. May I offer you any tea ( ... )
Reply
Red Road was simple enough to discern; wide, busy and with numerous red-tinged buildings lining the corridor. But he had not inquired as to how far down Red Road his destination, Rashbehari Street, would be located; he searched in vain for an Englishman before pausing to ask a porter carrying large bunches of an oblong yellow fruit.
“Krpaya Rashbehari strita kaham hai?”The porter shrugged and waved a hand further down the road. St. John tipped his hat and continued on his way. A few blocks down and the street looked promising, so he turned north and trusted to Providence that the Victoria Hotel was nearby. His chosen street, however, proved in reality to be little more than a cul-de-sac, quickly narrowing into an alleyway crowded with natives. He turned back and had nearly returned to Red Road when his eye ( ... )
Reply
“Banda sapha! Banda sapha!” A few last indiscriminately-aimed blows on unhappy flesh and the children scurried away, off to seek less-well-defended prey. St. John took a hasty account of his clothing and pockets to ensure all was present as expected, then turned his attention to the soldier, who gazed down at him with a look of mingled concern and amusement. His friendly, good-natured face managed to bring a smile to St. John in return before he recollected himself and turned serious. He held out a hand in gratitude ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Also yay captain Aquilaine!! Is it next Friday yet???
Reply
Reply
looking forward to next friday, nonny <3
Reply
LIKE, IT READS LIKE A FUCKING CLASSIC NOVEL. JUST SEXIER.
Reply
[So I hope you won't mind that I have a few nitpicks: You keep referring to 'reading/writing Hindu' when it should be 'Hindi,' a 'Hindu' being a person who follows Hinduism. Also, just out of curiosity, what are you using as a source for the Hindi and the Bengali?]
Reply
** referring to the "Hindu language" (or Hindustani) rather than the "Hindi language" is incorrect now but perfectly appropriate for the 1840s (OED -- Colebrooke in Life (1873) "In the vernacular dialects, or even in the Hindu language [i.e. Sanskrit].")
** my Hindi comes from Google Translate, which is then transliterated. It's probably crap but IDGAF because life is short and I've got some porn to write. My "Bengali" is also Hindi, because Google Translate doesn't do Bengali.
** if Hindu/Hindi bugs you I HIGHLY suggest avoiding Chapter 13 (In which the Rev. St. John is forcefully and repeatedly violated by a Tentacle Monster)
Reply
Leave a comment