The End of Another Mary

[Branchio 93]

“Carringtons always win”

These were the words that played over and over through Mary Jane’s head- words that were often retold from her father, to her elder sister and most other Carringtons. Lately, Jane found herself murmuring them in consolation to herself late into the night as she laid wide awake in her chambers. Mary Jane had aged quickly; the woman, who most knew from her childish actions, grew up quicker than imaginable after her sister’s death. Caring for quite a few children would do that to a woman. Jane never saw herself as a mother, from only a child she knew she didn’t want that in her future- though as she cared for her nieces and nephews she felt the love for them as a mother would. For now she saw them as her own, loved them more than anything, and loved them more than herself; which for Mary Jane was impressive. Mary Jane would have stolen the world and then split it up for those children. Though now, now she wondered what was left for her to do? 

 

Sitting in her chambers, the woman felt more pain than she ever did in her life - though this pain was not physical. She felt as though she failed; she not only felt she failed as an aunt, but as a sister and a Carrington as well. 

 

Looking out into the courtyard of the Carrington Estate, the woman would be able to see some of her nieces and nephews sitting on a bench and picking flowers or just playing down in the paths. A smile tugged at her lips, and she gave into it- these children let her troubles melt away by doing nearly nothing, for just the sight of them let her feel joy and love again. Then Joseph would come into her view, the man who drove away her sister, the man she saw take away Lucille’s children. That was what caused her pain, that one face-- showed everything wrong in her life. 

 

Mary Jane knew not to stick around, beginning to pack before stopping abruptly, shaking her head as she thought to herself. Instead, she would move for some parchment and her quill, beginning to write- not thinking, just writing. Jane wrote to her nieces and nephews: a private letter to them all, accompanied by all of her belongings.

 

Mary Jane would not be seen again- where she went was only known by the letter she wrote to ‘the children’. Most would assume death, but only her nieces and nephews would know for certain, and what they wished to do with that information- was to be decided by only them. 

“We are Carringtons, Janey” the voice of these words cooed softly in Mary Jane’s head as she thought once more of her elder sister.

 

Spoiler

this is not necessarily a PK post

[AnonymousAlexa 3890]

Hearing the news of her favorite aunt’s disappearance seemed to only worsen the grief Victoria Anne was enduring over the loss of her mother. The child curled up in her seat, staring at the crackling fire that filled the fireplace in her room. ”Why does everyone always leave me...” she murmured to herself as tears trickled down her rosy cheeks. Thoughts raced through her mind and she feared the worst...what if everyone left her?

[Gutz 450]

To anyone who knew Nenica Barclay- personally- they’d know she tended to bake abundantly during times of stress, or even sadness. It had even been gone as far to be even given a name: stress baking. Now was not an exception to that in Nenica’s personality. After Vespira had shared the news of Jane’s disappearance with her, the woman’s old room in the Dubois manor had quickly become filled counter to counter with any baked goods she could manage out of what little ingredients she had left behind upon her move to Reinmar. Amongst the fray of breads and cookies, sat said ginger haired woman on the floor- head buried tiredly in her tear and flour stained dressings. The dressings she wore now were still from the recent passing of Mariana Dubois- though it looked as though they weren’t coming off any time soon.

[Xarkly 17299]

 

In New Reza’s Ekaterinburg, Konstantin Wick exhaled deeply as he massaged his temples.

 

News of Mary Jane’s disappearance had reached him by pure chance after he had heard the exchange amidst some courtiers, but he had ascended the palace stairs back to his office with what felt like a leaden heart. He was barely a day back from representing her in the custody trial, and now this.

 

If I had found a better argument … a stronger case … He knew not what the nature of her disappearance was, but he feared the worst. He collapsed into his armchair, and stared absently at the empty hearth. If I had done something different, could I …? He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t let himself; he had enough stress and responsibilities in Haense, and adding the woman’s fate to his conscience would not do.

 

Vainly, he wished it wouldn’t haunt him.

[louislxix 3198]

After discerning the situation at hand through quiet conversation shared throughout his household, George pressed his head into his hands and bent his neck in a regret of sorts. He would remain there for a while brooding, then contemplating what he could have done to put an end to everything before it spiralled out of control. But instead, the Dubois came to realise it was not worth thinking about for nothing could be done anymore. Furthermore his drinking glass raised into the air as he shared a silent thought, dipping his head in sorrow for his once rival prior to taking a swig. Once it had sat in his stomach for a while, with a motion of his hand he reached into a drawer and produced some letters which had been exchanged between the both of them. Ensuingly, as a final act on the matter he pressed each corners of the letters into a candle’s flame, assuring they were no more before discarding them what was left of them into his ashtray.