There are few designers within SL to whom I would create an altar. Mr. Poet is one of them. He made a huge splash when sculpts were the Big Deal and I would visit the store at least once a month to look for more more more. And suddenly… nothing. My heart broke.
It is with great pleasure I found that he has returned to the world of creating- and creating in Mesh- to this month’s Men’s Department with the Military Drape Greatcoat Set. As with all creations from Mr. Poet, the outfit is layered so the shirt, vest, kerchief, jacket, and all of the attachments are individual so you can wear, mix and match at your leisure. Available in 5 color sets, 5 sizes, and all mix and matchable this return to creation is… ok, ok, I’ll stop gushing! Put more plainly: I love it.
There are only two things that don’t have me dancing like Julie Andrews on a Mountain Top. He uses Materials on every single piece and wow its shiny! They’re mod so you can adjust this obviously but as a default, it’s a little too shiny. Second is the rigging on the great coat itself. Instead of just rigged to the shoulders, the coat is rigged to the upper arms so some poses you will find yourself with a massive, sweeping, oh my god its alive coat sweeping out behind you.
But who knows- that may be your thing.
One thing this did do, however, was inspire the creative writer in me so… it is without further ado I ask you to indulge me in my insanity.
Oh- and you can find the matching pants at his main store location 🙂
The estate was in an uproar as I rose that morning. From my meagre quarters in the servants wing, I could hear the horses and carriages as they arrived with deliveries for the kitchens and groundskeepers; food and decorations. I had already slept well past the morning bells thanks to my circumstance so it was with no real urgency that I dressed myself. He had sent me back to my rooms in the early morning with a fine new set of clothes to wear for the day. He said he wanted me looking my best whenever he saw me so he could see it every time he closed his eyes.
As I made my way through the halls in my stunning new clothes, there was no small amount of jeering from the rest of the household staff. Possibly the worst kept secret on the Estate were my relations with the Duke. Were it not for the fact the Duchess’ head was tilted back so high as to not see anything past the tip of her nose, I’m sure the scandal of it would have found my body washed up in a river. As it was, the Duke and I had carried on for more than a decade. Oh it was common for men of the nobility to have many lovers behind the thinly veiled eyes of their wives. More rare was to have just one.. and certainly the same one for such a long period of time.
We had met during his first tour of service in the military when his father still held the Duchy. Wanting to impress the man and set himself apart from his four brothers, he joined and fought valiantly. Like my father, and his before him, I worked the stables keeping the horses ready. When he arrived at camp that first night, he rode his horse to the stables himself rather than leaving it to his man. Such a grand entrance he made. I would be lying if I said I did not feel the attraction on that first meeting.
I returned with him to the Estate at the close of the campaign. He married and assumed the title within the year. We carried on as men do; rushed meetings borne of needs not met in the bedroom. Oh he sired three daughters and a son over the years with the Duchess but as time went on, it became abundantly clear that his desire to attend his duties as husband was lackluster at best. It was in the stables where his passions were seeded and blossomed.
It was to be a grand ball, this celebration the Estate was hosting. We were very near the end of the war and the Duke had arranged to host a delirious fete when the General arrived that evening with his officers. We gathered, the entirety of the staff, along the grand entrance to the Estate as word came up from the village that they were close. The local nobility began arriving and we were quickly drawn into our duties. We shared a glance, my lover and I, before he disappeared indoors and I to the rear-grounds to supervise the care of the horses.
I was woken the next morning with urgency that the Duke required his horse be prepped and ready for a long journey. Confused, I made my way to the stables only to find that all of the horses were being prepped and word quickly found me: he had been recalled to lead the final push to reclaim the left bank. Normally, I would have taken his mount directly to him in the staging grounds, but he sent his man in to retrieve him. I was handed a crumpled letter and told to remain inside.
By the time I had read the letter (oh don’t look so surprised, he taught me to read many years ago) and ran from the stables, they were already at the edge of the estate. The ladies were already returning up the steps and I caught the Duchess staring at me as she ascended. There was a gleeful glint in her eye and no small laughing sneer on her mouth as she looked away from me. I returned to the stables, devastated.
His letters stopped coming more than six months ago. Word had reached the estate that first month when no courier had arrived with one of his hastily scrawled messages. The fighting had escalated, battles were being fought on multiple fronts, and losses were heavy. The Duke’s whereabouts were currently unknown. The camp had been overrun in the night and his horse found down river. He was assumed dead.
It was the middle of the night when I heard a ruckus from the stables. In the Duke’s absence, every privilege and accommodation had been stripped from me and I had been oh so generously given a small place to sleep with the horses. I rose to a hand placed immediately over my mouth. I knew it would come, that the Duchess would not wish to be reminded of her inability to please her husband. Instead of the blade I thought would slip between my ribs, it was the crushing embrace of the Duke and the wild eyes of the man I had loved since my youth close to mine. Filthy, bloody and in rags for clothes, his words came fast: “They think me dead. Come away with me.”
My amazing strategist had planned this from the moment the Generals had arrived for the celebration. We stole away into the night together and slipped across the river and deep into the woods where he had created a new life for us. One without station- without titles- and without regret.