margaret marshal

8

Christy (TV series), 1.01 “Pilot”

Neil: You are young, Miss Huddleston—and naïve, and you’ve made some sweeping judgments, haven’t you?

Christy: Well, some things are obvious….

Neil: [laughs] Forgive me. It was your nose wrinkling when you remembered those smells…. Don’t forget, Miss Huddleston, that I was one of those children.

Croatoan- Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,939

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual,

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Urban legends, bedtime stories, monsters under the bed: they are all things you hear about but never really believe. You hear about them from your friends and you think about them all the time, it never really leaving your mind until one day, you finally do some more research.

You ask your parents about it and they always say it isn’t real, that you have nothing to worry about. So, you forget about it for a few months. Until it comes up again and the cycle starts all over again.

Keep reading

Majestic chapter 2

Ch 1 found here https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505144/chapters/28470916


1890′s AU aboard the RMS Majestic and eventually at the World’s Fair in Chicago!
—————————-

Mr. Holmes handed his hat to the attendant upon entering the dining hall. The Tiffany Favrile chandeliers moved ever so slightly as the ship bobbed through the ocean.

“Mr. Holmes,” the man bowed ever so slightly. “Dr. Watson has not arrived yet sir. May I escort you to your table?”

“Not at present. I am searching for a couple whose acquaintance I made earlier this day. A Thomas and Margaret?” Sherlock asked, wrinkling his brow in question.

“Ah yes. Thomas Marshall and Margaret Hooper. They are of course seated with Dr. and Mrs. Rogers, and Lord and Lady Cunningham.  Shall I escort you sir?”

“No thank you. If you would kindly point me in their direction I would be much obliged.”

The attendant pointed over to the port side of the hall, near the staircase. Sherlock spotted the pair. Thomas was wound up like a clock, he could tell from this far back; gulping down a neat scotch. Margaret though, she was beaming. She was excitedly talking with her hands and directing her attention to one of the gentleman at the table. Curious. Was Thomas jealous? Sherlock studied the scene more carefully. No. Angry and embarrassed. Eager to leave. And Margaret; was she interested in this gentleman she was speaking to? No. No physical signs of arousal, peaked curiosity though. Whatever she was speaking to this man about, she was very passionate.

Sherlock had moved close enough at this point to hear at this point.

“Indeed Dr. Hooper. I know what I am about to say may seem radical and unpopular, but I wholeheartedly agree with you. As a man, there is only so much I can learn in the books about female conditions. Whereas you have firsthand experience with them. I for one welcome the fairer sex into our occupation.” The man who Sherlock surmised was Dr. Rogers stated, raised his glass.

Margaret smiled and raised hers towards him as well.

“Dr. Hooper.” Thomas scoffed and downed the rest of his drink.

Sherlock wanted to throw that glass in his face.

Molly looked down and away, her cheeks flushed in anger. Her eyes were becoming glassy.

“Lord and Lady Cunningham!” Sherlock yelled cheerfully towards the table.

The older couple turned to look towards him.

“So nice to see you again.” Sherlock stuck out his hand towards the older man. “We met at my parent’s estate, Musgrave, some years ago.”

“Mr. Holmes.” Lady Cunningham said, seeming to remember the family name that the estate was associated with.

“Ah Mr. Holmes! Wonderful to see you. You were a boy when we last met. I see that memory is as good as ever.” Lord Cunningham gripped his hand firmly and turned to the rest of the table.

Sherlock smiled. He had never met these people before in his life; however he knew that they would not chance looking like they had forgotten another member of the peerage.

“Please, everyone, this is the son of Lord and Lady Holmes. Mr…?”

“Sherlock.” He took a moment to make eye contact with everyone at the table, stopping when he met Margaret’s gaze. “Sherlock Holmes.” He bowed slightly.

Lord Cunningham took it upon himself to make the introductions. “Here we have Dr. And Mrs. Rogers, and Thomas Marshall and his fiancé, Dr. Margaret Hooper.”

If Thomas had any inclination to scoff once more, he wisely kept it to himself.

“Two doctors at one table? What a delight. I am also traveling with a Dr. John Watson. I am expecting him to join me any moment.”

Mrs. Rogers joined the conversation, “What do you do, Mr. Holmes?”

“I am the world’s only consulting detective. I’m traveling to Chicago to help the police officers there.” Sherlock responded.

“Consulting detective? That is not an occupation.” Thomas slurred across the table.

“Oh I assure you, it is. They give me money and everything. And in what profession are you gainfully employed Mr. Marshall?”

“I’m a banker.” Thomas puffed out his chest ever so slightly.

Lord Cunningham took this opportunity to cut off the pissing contest before it grew out of control.

“Well Mr. Holmes, we hope to see more of you this week. Will you be taking in the theater tomorrow evening?”

Sherlock took a moment to flick his eyes towards Margaret. She was waiting to see what his answer would be.
“Indeed I shall.” He responded.

“Sherlock?” A smaller man approached, his mustache twitching.

“Ah, the aforementioned Dr. John Watson has arrived. I shall take leave of you and I look forward to seeing much more of all of you this week. Gentleman. Ladies.” He once again made eye contact with Margaret. He turned to join Dr. Watson.

The first British actresses

During the Interregnum period (1649-1660), following the execution of King Charles I, the theatres of Britain were closed by Oliver Cromwell. However, upon the restoration of Charles II as king in 1660, they were re-opened and theatre managers, Thomas Killigrew and William Davenant, specifically, were issued a royal charter to set up a theatre company. Subsequently, the King’s Company and the Duke of York’s Company became the major duopoly of the Restoration theatre scene.

This was also the first time that women were allowed on the stage. Previously, female parts had been played by young boys or men but the King had experienced the phenomenon of the actress during his exile on the Continent and was highly impressed. The King’s Company was one of the first theatre companies to feature actresses in the plays it staged and they were a sensation. There is some debate as to who the very first British actress, as we would define it today, was, although many say that the first female role to be played by a woman was that of Desdemona in Shakespeare’s Othello on 8th December 1660. Male members of the audience, especially, flocked to see these talented, charismatic ladies perform in a way that had never been seen before.

Pictured are the Restoration era actresses Nell Gwyn (who later went on to become the most famous mistress of King Charles II), Mary Saunderson, Anne Marshall and Margaret “Peg” Hughes. Other female actresses of the era included Elizabeth Barry, Mary Knepp, Elizabeth Boutell, Katherine Corey, Rebecca “Beck” Marshall (sister of Anne Marshall: occasionally, the two performed as a pair), Hester Davenport and Mary “Moll” Davis. These women were among the first ever celebrities and professional career girls.

It wasn’t all glitter and glamour for these girls, however. Beck Marshall, especially, on several occasions, had to petition the king to make sure she was protected against boisterous male audience members.

10

I know I’ve made a ridiculous number of posts about this, but here’s the slightly more compact one that sums up a lot of this week.

I’ve absolutely loved my four years at NYU. I’m immensely proud of what I’ve done and thankful for who I’ve met. It’s impossible to sum up the entire experience in one post.

A bit of explanation: NYU is really big, so while All-University Commencement is held at Yankee Stadium (this year, May 18th at 11am), there are also individual school Baccalaureate ceremonies (mine, for the College of Arts and Science, was at Radio City Music Hall on May 19th at 3pm). The President speaks at both, but my name is called at the bacc and I get to actually walk.

Photo explanations beneath the cut! (Also lots of bragging. Sorry, not sorry.)

Keep reading

Coat of Arms of the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl Marshal

The Duke of Norfolk is the premier duke in the peerage of England, and also, as Earl of Arundel, the premier earl. The Duke of Norfolk is, moreover, the Earl Marshal and hereditary Marshal of England. The dukes have historically all been Catholic, a state of affairs known as recusancy in England. 

All past and present dukes have been descended from Edward I, King of England. The first being the elderly widowed granddaughter of Edward I, Margaret Marshal, who was created Duchess of Norfolk for life on 29 September 1397. She died eighteen months later, 24 March 1399, and was buried in the choir of Grey Friars in the City of London.