Okay people. We have some people who are very anxious to get started, so I'm going to have to put a deadline on things. Profiles have to be up by Saturday, Sept. 10 of this year... but I hope you got that all by yourselves. *cough* If your profiles aren't up by then, post them in the DT (unless you can edit them into a saver post on the SB, in which case feel free to do so). We'll be starting without you, I'm afraid, but feel free to jump in at any moment- your character probably won't have been included in anybody's post due to, you know, a lack of profile. Kinda tricky to bring in a profileless character. xD
I'd actually like everybody to post a message in the DT, if it isn't too much trouble, just because there will probably be some important points/planning that you might not want to miss. ^.^ (having your say is always nice, isn't it?) You don't have to post anything amazing, like seriously, on the last one, my first message was 'moogerbooger.' Anything works. xD
Appearance: She has short, messy, uneven brown hair with natural darker highlights. She has many scars across her back, from her Dad [Read History] and she is of average height. She has one green and one blue eye. In her own eyes, she isn't pretty. Due to her unusual eyes, people think her pretty. Maybe not gorgeous, but pretty. ( ) She is usually seen wearing a raggady top and bottoms, covered in mud and grass stains. She has a pale complextion, but very rough skin, usually marked with dirt.
Personality: Kestral doesn't care what people think about her. She is determined to evade being caught and married off for as long as she can. Even at 16, she sometimes hopes that she will find someone that she'll love and care for, and will fight for her rights. She is loyal to her friends, usually other orphans, who she gets along well with. She is brave, and will always put her friend in front of herself in a time of need, which often leads to her jumping into a situation without thinking. She is tough for a girl, tougher than boys expect. She is skinny, but possesses a lot of speed, strengh and endurance, which most orphans need to have. Susprisingly, Kestral enjoys a laugh and a joke. You could describe her as a joker, because when she's not being chased or hunted down, she's usually found playing pranks on stall managers, and even some of the guards. She can be shy and reserved, but once you get to know her, you'll see the other side of her. She can be very reckless, jumping from rooftops into hay barrals, or some other crazy stunt.
Flaws/Weaknesses Will jump into a situation without thinking it through, usually leading to her narrowly getting caught or injured. She is typically strong for an orphan, but running and jumping most of her life means she gets injured much easier now than she did before.
History: Kestral was orphaned at the age of nine. Her Dad was extremly abusive, and a gambler. Her mother died shortly after her sixth birthday; she caught a serious illness (cholera, but they obviously didn't realise that at the time) and since then, her Dad lost it. Driven mad with loss, he was out most of the time, drinking or gambling. Kestral was left to pick up the pieces.
She dreaded the time her father came home. She was abused, and now has a series of scars along her back and arms. She doesn't show them to anyone unless she trusts them completly, with her heart and soul.
Before her Mother died and her father turned abusive, she was very fun loving and care-free, and usually got what she wanted. After her mother died, she took a nose-dive and became more reserved, and was drove deeper into her shell when her Dad turned abusive. She is more fun loving now becasue she's come out of her shell- the adrenaline she feels when she's running or doing something paricularly foolish, made her become more adapted and her usual self.
Up For Love: Yes, straight, and I am going to PM them now. *runs off*
I'm not finished just yet. I have a little more to add but otherwise this is just the main outline. If anything is wrong, please tell me so I can edit it. I hate being wrong!
Name: Draco (He doesn't speak his real name)
Age: Nineteen turning twenty.
Gender Male
For or Against: FOR!!
Rank/Title/Occupation Resistance Member
Appearance: Spoiler
Blonde haired, blue eyed babe, or so he thinks...Draco is tall for his young age and looks a little older because of his love for the sun. Draco adopted the square jaw from his father and the pale skin from his mother, something that he is definitely trying to change. He always has a smirk across his face no matter the emotion he is feeling. If he is sad, there will be a smirk; if he is angry, he'll smirk! Smirk. Smirk. Smirk! Draco has an athletes build (don't want to say dancers', he might kill me!), with very broad shoulders.
Personality: Draco is a man of his word. He is loyal and kind to animals, women and plants; some often consider him a saint, a Prince Charming in this corrupt word. When kids sing of heroes, they sing of young Draco...yeah, unlikely! If anything they sing about how much of a blood sucking demon he is. Draco is sarcastic jerk that takes care of only number one (himself). The reason he joined the resistance is unknown but you can be sure it had something to do with benefitting himself. Is he kind to animals, women and plants like some kind of Prince Charming? Women he is kind to but that's because he think he's a ladie's man and let's face it, Draco isn't. Plants and animals - definitely not. Draco dislikes many things and that's all those who oppose him, get in his way and interrupt his beauty nap. That's right, Draco thinks it's necessary. If you haven't figured it out yet, Draco is up himself. He doesn't need to fall in love with anyone, give him a mirror and he'll be cooing like a school girl. Draco doesn't like to get his boots dirty so he'll usually leave the fighting to someone else ('Well you can't suspect me to get blood on my new leather boots!'). Draco's a prick, I know guys.
Flaws/Weaknesses I think I've already pointed out a very large one above: arrogant, stuck up jerk. He doesn't care for other people, his heart is like stone. To place your imprint on his heart will be a very big feat, don't think it will be easy to do because it isn't. Draco is also a very massive coward. If it weren't for his cunning, he'd be dead with an arrow through his heart by now. Whenever there is a fight, he'll shy away, pick-pocketting the dead or possibly stealing himself a new set of shoes. What a gentleman?!
History: He mother and father both were of high status for that reason he was spoilt severly when he was young. Draco didn't suspect anything was wrong in the kingdom, he thought that the king was brilliant and that any who opposed him deserved the worst kind of punishment. Of course, one day, he woke up to smell the flowers. Witnessing the execution of his father who had aided a resistance pary starting to emerge - how his father had helped Draco will never know - he was killed. Draco's mother was told that her father had run away but Draco knew the truth. His whole life was turned upside down; he couldn't live in a city where he knew his father had been murdered for something he may or may not have done.
At the brink of nightfall when Draco was thirteen, he left. Grabbed his gear and ran for the outskirts. He didn't know where to go, he didn't really want to leave his mother either but now that his mother was to be newly wed to the man who had accused Draco's father, he didn't want any of it. Draco would rather skin a loin then share a home with the man who caused his father's death. For this reason he doesn't really like his mother. In fact, he kind of resents her. Sure, deep in his heart he loves her but on the outside he is not shy to curse her. After walking for a few months, the only thing Draco could do to get some cash was play music to travellers or beg, and hope that they'd spare some change. Because of this, Draco is quite musical and is quite sure how to retrieve money. Although a gypsy's wage is not something you can live off. Soon Draco was dying from starvation, having to stop singing and dancing completely. It was one customer that would watch every day that came up to him when he was on the brink of demise. That person was the member of a resistance.
Up For Love: Sure, why not. There is nothing organised but if someone would like to wing it with me, then sure. If you can take him!
Other: (Anything we forgot or anything that doesn't fit with the above categories that you felt you needed to add)
Name: Leo Therniet Age: 24 Gender Male For or Against: For Rank/Title/Occupation Physician and Council Member
Appearance: Leo is of average height, at 6'0", and is slightly on the slimmer side of an average build. He is reasonably toned, though hardly muscular, and has a thick mop of dark brown hair that is rarely brushed or tidy. Leo has dark brown eyes that are often mistaken for black, and his skin is an olive tone.
Personality: As his namesake, the God of Protection, Leo is generally a calm and nurturing kind of person, often acting in the most diplomatic way in difficult situations and preferring not to vocalise strong opinions, no matter how fierce his internal thoughts on the issue may be. He has a soothing presence, easily relaxing patients with his gentle demeanour and his seemingly never-ending ability to listen without making judgements.
It is only in matters of life or death does Leo's attitude change, switching from his usual laid-back style of behaviour to one that is fast=paced and urgent, with little patience for any failures from his assistants and a tendency to act in a snappish manner. Whilst he is often apologetic and concerned after these outbursts, his remarks can often be cutting to those who they are directed at.
Flaws/Weaknesses Whilst he is good at aiding people both physically and mentally, Leo is a poor tactician and has little eye for seeing how things are likely to happen outside of his small field of knowledge. He puts a great deal of trust in the other Councillors, following the majority opinion when the time calls for a vote, and is easily persuaded by those who he trusts the most.
History: Leo is one of the few of the Resistance who are neither orphaned, sick, homeless, or otherwise classed as invalids of the Emperor's system. Leo came to the Resistance of his own choice, after many years of working as a city physician and seeing how easy it was to heal or help those who had been labelled by the city as outcasts purely because of disfigurement or disability. For the three years before he officially joined the Resistance, Leo was engagin in illegal activities; namely, the aid of those who were judged fit only for death or as bait in the Games, doing his best to hide any disfigurements and to learn more about mental illnesses. However, a year ago the city discovered what he had been doing, sending a force of men to shut down his practice and take him into custody. Somehow, he managed to escape, fleeing to the streets and eventually stumbling upon the Resistance, where he has been ever since.
Name: Dante Age: 17 Gender Male For or Against: For (duh) Rank/Title/Occupation Palace guard/Resistance council member & spy
Appearance: Blonde hair, piercing grey eyes very handsome, 5'9" Picture available. Most of the time he is seen in his palace guard uniform. but takes it off and holds just a sword at his side for protection when he's in the tunnels. Spoiler
Personality: Kind hearted, has a sense of humor but hates his job and only stays there because of the resistance. He has always been a strong fighter and good with a sword. Looks to protect all those that he cares about. Extremely friendly and it's not the first time you'll see him playing with the children in the tunnels.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Has been told that he is too kind but turns into a rutheless killer if you hurt anyone he cares about. He is in love with Asha, which makes him resent the prince for treating her the way he does
History: Dante grew up in Pash, his father is the head of the palace guards so he has always been a good fighter. When Dante turned 15 his father signed him up for the guards and he agreed to join with no arguments. He had never liked the Emperor, and all his friends were surprised when he joined the guards, but he had an ulterior motive. a month before he joined the guards, he had joined the resistance. He had befriended Leinad and became one of his most trusted friends, together they planned for Dante to join the guards and get as much information as he could, because of this, he was given a position in the council.
A little while after he joined, he took an interest in the prince's slave girl, Asha, he took her to the tunnels where she joined the resistance and they remained close friends. But he always felt something towards her that he couldn't explain.
Up For Love: Yes (It's already been planned out)
Other: At the age of 13 his father gave him his first dagger, at 15 he gave him his first sword when he joined the guards. He keeps both of these on him at all times. Being friends with Leinad, he was given many other swords and daggers to hold incase the need would arise, but he prefers to keep the ones his father gave him on him at all times Spoiler
The last person to mess with me and my tigerness lost his face...and his COOKIES!
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world's food and clothes. I am the audience that witnesses history. - Carl Sandburg, I am the People, the Mob
Leinad scowled at the door, unable to ignore the rowdy shouts from outside any longer. Was it really necessary to get drunk so early in the morning? Or, an even greater question: was it really necessary to stalk around his shop while drunk this early in the morning? He stretched his back, trying to rid himself of the dull ache and continued to scowl at the door.
“I have work to do in the tunnels.” He glanced at Louarn, both eyebrows raised. “Be nice to Kayla-- she’s making you breakfast, and she has my position to throw it out if you’re snarky,-- and don’t let those men into my shop if they’re intoxicated. The last thing I need to do when I get back is clean up a mess made by a bunch of drunkards who got their hands on one too many pointy objects.”
Lou chuckled, kicking open the trapdoor for Leinad. It was apparent that everyone knew he couldn’t bend over at these hours in the morning. It was a slightly discomforting fact-- he didn't want people to start telling him that he was too old to work so hard. Even as an only child, Leinad had never been pampered, and he didn't intend to be now.
"Oh, and tell her to make a market run for some of those herbs at some point today. My fingers are starting to ache again." He flexed them, just for good measure, before easing himself onto the first step. He had been right in choosing a building with only one window-- it made sneaking around like this a lot less risky. Lou kicked the door back down after Leinad, much to the old man's relief. He knew all too well that he wouldn't have been able to close it himself.
He braced himself against the tunnel wall, using his hand to keep some of the weight off of his body. Either he needed to find better medications, or he needed to go on a very strict diet. Or he could just heed to his granddaughter's advice and rest more often than he did-- but how would he get anything done that way? Resistances required effort, and until Leinad had put in the necessary amount, he wouldn't be happy with himself, not in the slightest.
Now, a walking stick may so the trick, and it seemed at least somewhat reasonable. Yes, he would have to find one for himself. Bartimeus wouldn't be alone in his dependence on one that way, either.
Leinad turned of just as he would have entered the main room, smiling to himself when he heard all of the chatter. There was a reason he was doing this-- and the people in that room were a large chunk of it. He would pay a visit to them later, of course, once his joints weren't so noticeably achey and after he had checked their main food store. Somebody had told him-- Lyra, perhaps-- that it needed to be replenished at some point in the very near future.
He eased himself away from the wall so that he could push the sheet covering the doorway into the large room aside, wincing as he did so. He was getting old. Too old, and it bothered him.
The lanterns were going out- he'd have to send somebody to fetch him some fuel at some point. However, it didn't take a lot of light to see that Lyra was right-- it was definitely time to restock the storerooms.
He stepped into the room, about to check on just what it was that they needed when a voice cut into his thoughts.
"'Morning, Papa Lein."
He looked up, mustering a bright smile at the girl standing in the doorway. Snoopy little thing- sneaky, too, considering she had him assuming that she was a man at first. “Good morning, Maura.” Leinad turned back to the shelves, absent-mindedly stroking his beard. “Can I do anything for you?” He had a funny feeling that this would be the regular from her. It was far too early in the day to be worried about answering endless, prying questions or deal with or those snarky jabs of hers. Of course, he would try his hardest-- if he started his day out being irritated, it wouldn’t change.
Asha
I slowed my step when I came up to where Dante was standing, shooting a nervous glance up and down the halls to make sure that there was nobody else there. He frowned at me, and I shifted the tray that I was carrying, subtly gesturing for him to come within whispering range. He took a half-step closer-- good enough.
“Tell Papa Lein and the rest that I won’t be making it to the tunnels tonight, and probably not tomorrow, either.” I kept my voice low, eyes dancing to each of the halls in turn. “I’ve been going missing a few too many times... I can’t... there’s a very important reason for me to not take another beating.” Being that I’m carrying the heir to the Pashan throne, and if this child dies, I may as well slit my own throat or throw myself into the arena. Reasonable, Asha, reasonable.
Without waiting for him to respond, I slipped away again. I couldn’t deal with it if he started protesting right now, or if somebody just so happened to stroll by and catch us speaking. There would be consequences, and I had this sick feeling rolling around in my gut that there were already going to be enough of those today. A missing slave girl who returns to her master may as well be a dead slave girl-- thank the gods I had been expensive.
I skirted the corner, automatically sucking in my stomach. The bulge was hardly even there-- definitely not noticeable, but that prince had eyes like one wouldn’t believe, and I was unwilling to take any chances. Memories of the last time this had happened were wafting back to me, willing my hands to start shaking and my eyes to mist over. I would not think about that right now-- not when he would realize that something was wrong and poke at it until I told him what it was. And by poking, I mean yelling and hitting and threatening. Nothing like the gentle prodding from Papa Lein or Bartimeus or Rein... or any of them, for that matter. No, the prince’s idea of ‘poking’ usually left me semi, if not un-conscious on the floor.
The sudden urge to drop the tray and wrap my warms around protectively around my belly almost got the better of me. It wobbled, but remained in my hands. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that one of the two wine cups had spilled a drop into the pigeon livers... gods, I was a nervous wreck today. The voice-- Darren’s voice made me freeze with my hand half-raised to knock on the door.
He wasn’t supposed to be here until later! And now the palms of my hands were getting wet; if that wasn’t an automatic giveaway that something was very wrong, then I didn’t know what was. Sweaty palms would tip him off that I was terrified, and they’d do a good job of it, too. I forced my fist to knock lightly before adjusting the tray so that it was in both hands again before taking a step back and lowering my gaze. If my heart didn’t stop pounding so hard, it would end up splattered all over the floor in a matter of minutes.
Eselda
I pouted in the middle of the little room, watching Xanthus piggy-back, or, at least try to piggy-back another little girl around. He had come here to play with me because Tiberius was being annoying again, and now he was playing with somebody else. People always told me that it wasn’t good to be jealous, but I was anyways-- I didn’t care if it was good or bad or mean or anything, really. And I also wasn’t scared to admit it, because I didn’t get the point in hiding envy when showing it always got you what you wanted.
I had already thought about going back to the main room instead of sitting here in this other stupid place, but I was too scared that the torches would go out on me if I left. Maybe I’d just have to get his attention a different way... because pouting apparently wasn’t doing the trick.
But how? I didn’t want to just scream his name and sound like a little brat, because it would make me look... well, it would make me look spoiled rotten, and I didn’t want him to think that. Especially not since I lived underground in a bunch of tunnels and all that I had to play with was an old doll. None of us were spoiled-- not really, and I didn’t want to give myself that image.
And then it came to me-- a glorious image of him comforting me because I had ‘hurt’ myself, and leaving that other little girl alone. Now all I had to do was find something convincing to pretend to trip over, and everything would work out perfectly.
I scanned the little room, deciding that it was too small to just start running and pretend to stumble over my own feet. I’d probably end up running into a wall or something and really hurt myself-- I didn’t want that. There! A little root sticking out of the ground right in front of me. I start shuffling towards it, pretending to be completely amused with kicking up dust under my feet, and made it look like I had smacked my foot on it.
But then something really, really awful happened-- I missed, and my toes got stuck right underneath the little arch. I let out a yelp as I started to fall at the wrong angle, not having time to shield my face from the wall that was hurtling itself at me. My nose smacked into the dirt first, and then my entire face was pressed up against the wall and sliding down. I was laying on my stomach before I even knew what had happened, a mouth full of dirt and pebbles, and a face that felt like it was on fire.
I spit, barely registering the shock before I started crying and trying to push myself up. My hands had managed to get all scraped up to, and that made everything hurt worth. My crying got louder, and the tears were burning the little raw marks on my skin and it just hurt., and that only made me cry even harder.
Xanthus was telling the other girl something, and then he was sitting right there, asking if I was okay, and I had never wanted to just smack him more than I did right then. Did I look okay to him? I settled for just shaking my head, though, because I was embarrassed enough-- I didn’t want him hating me ‘cause I had hit him for making sure I wasn’t dying or something.
“My-my face-- my face hurts!” It sounded so stupid, but it really, really did.
Hadn’t I just been trying to be careful so that I didn’t run into a wall?
"Morning, Papa Lein," Maura chimed with a smile. She leaned against the doorway from Leinad's shop into the tunnels, waiting for him. She wore the hood of her cloak back, her dark hair fluffed out like feathers. It was getting long and she was beginning to look too female for her tastes, but she hadn't the time to cut it.
"Good morning, Maura," Leinad greeted, giving her a smile that seemed to require more effort than usual. Of course, she had only known him for a few weeks - if that - so she certainly wasn't an authority on Leinad's smiles. "Can I do anything for you?"
Maura smiled. Just the opportunity she'd been waiting for. "The question, Papa Lein, isn't what you can do for me, but what I can do for you." She waited for a response, an inquiry as to what exactly she meant, but he only raised an eyebrow in a slightly curious manner. Leinad was old, but he wasn't near senile. He was just as clever, perhaps even more clever, as she was. "I overheard you in your shop," she continued. "Why send Kaya out to fetch you herbs from the market when I can get them myself, for a...discount."
"Now, Maura, you've been around long enough to know what I stand for," Leinad said. "I may be leading a resistance, but that doesn't mean I'm prepared to lower myself to petty thievery."
"That doesn't mean I'm prepared to lower myself to petty thievery," Maura repeated, mocking him. It was an impulse, a habit she couldn't always control. "Yes, yes, I understand. But Kaya is your granddaughter, she's young, pretty, and I've seen a lot of pretty, young girls snatched off the market streets. I'm sure you wouldn't want your own kin sold into the slave trade." She mustered her most concerned look, knowing she could convince most men with it - though Leinad was certainly not like most men. She could only hope he'd give her something to work with. Her fingers had been itching lately, and it was always better if she stole for a reason.
Willy-nilly thievery held very little satisfaction.
I gave Darren a look. He, in turn, gave his little slave girl a look. She imediately went and opened the door, keeping her head down. I stared at the faint scare on her cheek. Darren's handiwork. I smiled whent he door was finally opened to reveal Asha. She had her eyes downcast, but she almost looked like she was shaking. I shot a fleeting frown in the slave's direction. I'd find out later.
"What took so long, girl?" I demanded, leaning back in my chair. Darren's little slave jumped at the sound of my voice. I shot her a glance before focusing my attention on Asha. The girl was nervous, that much I could tell, as she entered the room and put the tray she was carrying down on the table between Darren and me. She said nothing as she backed up and moved to stand just out of the way. I let my gaze linger on her. She sure had been acting odd these last few weeks. I could only wonder why.
"And so, I told the man to pay up," Darren said, dragging my drifting attention back to him. I leaned forward and picked up one of a cups and settled in to listen to him. He grinned. "He told me he wasn't gonig to pay the amount we had agreed on and so I just smiled and gave my little minions a look." I chuckled. He liked calling that small army of his minions. "He was dead within mintues. Worst decision that man ever made."
"I'll bet," I said, picking at the food. Asha was tense, I noticed. Every movement she almost cringed. What was up with her today? Couldn't just be Darren's presence, could it? I shot her a dark look. She went very still. "So, any new slaves I should known about, Darren?"
When I glanced at him, Darren was smiling. I raised an eyebrow. That was a curious look. To my right, Asha's fingers were tangled up in the skirt of her dress. Beside her, Darren's little slave was shaking. Hmm. That was interesting.
"Rian, do you have to ask?" Darren questioned, smile shifting into a smirk. "I always have new slaves. You might want to take a look at the latest batch. I believe that's a very beautiful young lady amongst them."
I snorted and Darren fell into a fit of laughter. Lady, my fortune. There were no ladies among slaves. Just pretty faces. I chuckled and abandoned my food. I wasn't all that hugnry now. "Hey, let's get out of this room for a bit, eh?" I stood and stretched, Darren just frowned at me. "I'm bored and this room is only going to drive me insane if I'm in it any longer." I shot a glance in my slave-girl's direction. She seemed to be cringing again. I decided to ignore her in favour of Darren for the moment. "Well?"
Darren just smiled and shook his head before standing up. Yes, I was impossible to understnad, and even more impossible to keep still for long periods of time. I threw my little slave a dark look and swept out of the room, Darren and his slave in tow. Several minutes later saw us in the gardens, Darren tellnig me antoher story about potential customers not wanting to pay the prices her set. Most of those stories ended up with said customer dead. Must be fun, killing who you liked and not getting into trobule over it.
As we wandered through the garden, I spotted one of the palace guards--Dante. I glanced towards Darren. "I'll be right back," I said before making a beeline for the guard. He didn't seem to notice my arrival until I actually spoke his name. "Dante," I said, sliding a hand onto his shoulder. "Where have you been?" He shifted, uncomfortable. Good. He'd be worse off if I ever got my way with him. "I missed seeing you earlier."
Last edited by ScarlettFire on Sat Sep 10, 2011 5:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart
“It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.” - Grace Hopper.
Safer than the hiding places I'd used when I was six or seven, better than the shops I'd linger in to avoid my fathers wrath when he arrived home. In his eyes I was useless. I couldn't do anything. Especially after Mother died.
My feet were wandering on there own, tracing the familiar path.
The safe path. I always felt safe around Papa Lein, him and Tib, even though I'd never admit it to anyone else...let alone him.
"Papa Lein?" I rounded the corner.
"Yes, yes, I understand. But Kaya is your granddaughter, she's young, pretty, and I've seen a lot of pretty, young girls snatched off the market streets. I'm sure you wouldn't want your own kin sold into the slave trade." I walked straight into the back of Maura, and she turned on me angrily, then thought better of it, and turned back to Papa Lein, a smile fixed on her face.
"Sorry!" I apologised, stepping around her. Relief washed over me at the sight of Papa. He made me feel safe, especially after the arguament with-
I smiled at Papa Lein.
"Papa, can I speak with you?" I mentally winced as I realised I'd called him Papa. "It'll be quick." I directed at Maura.
He nodded and smiled warmly.
"Well," I breathed in and launched into the story. "I was with Tib and Ezzy, and, Papa, me and Tib argued. He was starting to annoy Ezzy, you know how he is," The words tumbled from my mouth like a waterfall, "She walked off and I told him to stop being so much of an attention seeker. We shouted at each other and I told him to ... to ..."
"To?"
"To go crawl into a deep, dark hole where no one would ever find him and not to come back," I winced.
"Why?"
"He called me some pretty nasty things. We're best friends," I blushed, "He said my father never wanted me, and neither did my Mum," I tried to stop the tears.
Maura was getting uncomfortable behind me. I didnm't doubt she'd been asking if she could go and steal something.
"Have you seen him since?"
"No. I feel really bad, but..." I shook my head. "What do I say?"
The dining hall stood silent, with the occasional slave bringing about dishes and other things every once in a while. The only sound in the huge room was the clink of forks and knives on the glazed glass-like plates, and Kalle could see a vague, hazy image of her face, her eyes staring right back at her. Haunted, caged, betrayed. Why had Lorean treated her that way?
It had only been a few weeks since she became the Empress, but she hated her new life already. The old man, the emperor and her husband, sat at the other end of the table, his eyes trained not on her but rather conflicted, as if he was trying not to think about something. She suppressed a rebellious growl and turned back to her breakfast, tearing into the bread with her knife like a ravenous crow.
She felt that, to him, she was nothing but mere jewelry. She was pretty, she was young, she was his wife--and that was all he seemed to care about when it came to her. She did not like him--she did not like him at all. However, there was one person in the palace that she hated more than the old man, and it was his boy, who called himself Rian. If the emperor was the arch-sinner, his son was the devil.
At a vague beckon from him, a young slave girl sidled nervously towards him, and Kalle stared at them. The girl nodded vehemently as the Emperor calmly ordered her to bring him a new plate, and set off, leaving the two of them alone. He glanced at Kalle, having noticed her look.
"What are you staring at?"
"Nothing, your Grace," she mumbled, even though her mother had practically slapped it into her to never mumble. "Forgive me for my impertinence."
"Sit up straight and talk clearly, girl," he told her rather sharply, almost rebukingly. "I will not have bad manners in my presence. Is that clear?"
"Yes, your Grace." Kalle's eyebrow twitched rebelliously, but she said nothing else. And there their impromptu conversation ended. But even as the young Empress turned back to her almost-clean plate, from somewhere in the palace, shouting ensued and her head shot up in surprise. Who on earth was creating that much commotion?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world's food and clothes. I am the audience that witnesses history. - Carl Sandburg, I am the People, the Mob
Laughter erupted from my lips as Eselda's mouth dropped open. Judging by the way her eyes narrowed coldly, I'd have thought the girl was going to turn rabid and start clawing at my face. In reality, I'd never smelt a dead rabbit before, strangely enough, although I'd smelt rotten fruit before. I was sure the stench was similar.
"No it doesn't!" she snapped at me in return, which merely broadened my grin.
"It does. It smells like something's died on you."
"It doesn't!"
"Ergh, don't open your mouth so wide and breathe in my face. It smells like something's died in there too."
The best thing about seven-year-old girls, especially ones like Eselda, was the fact that it took nothing to irritate them. All I had to do was pull a face and it would make her want to dig a hole, and then shove me into it. It was brilliant. Her cheeks were turning flushed now, and her glare was like something I'd never seen before. That was when an idea hit me, and moments later, my grin had reached to the tips of my my ears.
I licked her face.
She squirmed, yelled, and before I knew it, she was chasing me around the small room we were in. My heart was trying to break out of my ribs as my laughter became uncontrollable. I could hear Eselda's light steps behind me, but she was incredibly slow compared to me. A tortoise with no limbs, no eyeballs, and no sense of direction could have moved faster than her.
"I'm telling on you!"
A sudden yell caused me to stop in my tracks. I spun around to see Eselda with her mouth shaped into a hard frown, and her eyebrows furrowed so harshly, they were almost caving in on her eyes. Speaking of her eyes, one of them was twitching slightly. If she wasn't careful, it would have fallen out of its socket. That wouldn't have been attractive. I struggled not to either laugh or comment on that fact. After a humph, she stomped out of the room, and made her way to who knew where. I laughed. A lot.
People always whined when I had fun. I was joking around with Kestral before this, but she ended up pouting and leaving. Apparently, at my age, I was supposed to be calm, controlled and considerate. What did I say to those people? Nothing. I just laughed. Some called it immature, some called it rude, and some just called it annoying. I called it extremely entertaining.
* * * * *
Xanthus | The Tunnels
I was getting Aliselle off my back when I heard a soft thud. Then the crying began. It crawled into my ears, and the mere sound of it sent a feeling of something sharp digging into my skin. Within seconds, I was kneeling down beside Essy, whose crying had only excelled.
"My-my face-- my face hurts!"
I wouldn't have guessed. I gently took her hands and inspected her palms to see that they were grazed. As for her face--the thing she was mainly whining about--it looked okay. She had a small cut on her cheek, but nothing too horrible. Nothing Leo wouldn't have been able to fix. Essy clearly though otherwise. Bloody hell, how doesn't her throat explode?
"Come on," I said once she'd calmed down slightly. "I'll get Leo to take a look at you."
The sour expression on Essy's face made me think that she wasn't overly keen on that idea, and I was hardly feeling any different. I knew someone had to take a look at her though. It was just that Leo made me nervous. He was too... calm. Calm people weren't to be trusted. You never knew what their mind was conjuring up, or what kind of insulting comments were circling around their head. With the exception of Papa Lein, adults always thought low of me, and I was glad of it too. Letting people down was a habit of mine, so technically, being so cold towards them was actually doing them a favour.
I'd almost forgotten that I was taking Essy to get her cuts looked at when I heard her speaking again. We were currently ambling through one of the darker tunnels, and it was now I realised that her body was almost pressing into mine. Her eyes were glued to me, and not to any of the darkness around us.
"Aliselle's really ugly, you know. I don't know why you like her." Essy shrugged. "I'm way prettier, aren't I?"
I laughed. "Well, I think you may be a little prettier." I winked at her. "But don't tell anyone I said that."
I probably shouldn't have said that because most of these kids were wild, and they didn't take favouritism lightly. Considering Essy was upset, I thought I'd make an exception. If the beaming grin on her face was anything to go by, it had worked too.
"Hey, Xanthus." A voice caused me to snap my head up. "Is there a problem?"
I almost jumped at the sound. I hadn't even realised we'd reached the hospital room yet, but it didn't take me long to do just that.. Standing inches away from me was Leo who was wearing a one-sided grin: a grin that was way too sweet. He looked like a pansy. I didn't bother smiling in return. He was trying to make his eyes look warm as he glanced at Essy, but all it did was make me pull her closer towards me.
I turned back to Leo. "No, I thought I'd just wander over here to take in the sights." There was a blatantly sarcastic tone in my voice. "What do you think?"
Last edited by Sins on Mon Sep 12, 2011 5:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.
I cringed when my so-called Master commented on killing a customer who wouldn't pay up everything. It was bad when he was alone, but worse when the Pricne was around. I was shaking, a lot. But the Prince was over bothering a guard and I wasn't sure if he was flirting with the poor boy or planning something worse. I had kept my gaze lowered inside, but now I was looknig at the flowers...which were everywhere. I missed the flowers.
"What are you looking at?" Darren's voice pulled my gaze away from the flowers and I made the huge mistake of looking up. Straight into his eyes. He smirked at me. "Well, speak."
I dropped my head and muttered, "I was looking at the flowers." From the corner of my eyes, I saw the other slave girl stiffen. Oh, no. I was going to be in for it tonight...or maybe later today. It would all depend on my master's mood. Damnit, why couldn't I focus for just one second?
"Oh, you like flowers, do you?"
I cringed, hunching my shoulders in and expecting a blow...that never came. I glanced up through my eyebrows to find Darren watching the Prince. I flicked my glance that way. It seemed like the Prince was trying to coax the Guard into something. Darren laughed, shaking his head. I jumped and suddenly, as if just remembering me, Darren slapped me. I fell onto my knees, one hand on my cheek, the other supporting me.
"Don't look at anything other than your feet," he said darkly and turned away.
My cheek stung and when I pulled my hand away, there was a small smear of blood on it. I felt like crying. In fact, I wanted to start crying, but that was what Darren wanted. He wanted me to cry, to show him that he'd hurt me. I closed my eyes and pressed my hand against my check, trying not to cry. It hurt when he hit me. I felt along my check, trying to fidn where I was bleeding. There, a tiny cut. Probably from his ring. I was lucky it wasn't worse.
I stood slowly, eyes wide and wary. Darren had his back to me...and then he turned around. Oh no. "Did I say you could get up?" he shouted and raised his hand again. I crigned and dropped back onto my knees, scraping them. He smirked and turned back to watching the Prince. I let my head hang and waited, trying very hard not to cry again. He'd tell me to get up eventually. Oh, I was definitely dreading what would happen...later.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart
“It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.” - Grace Hopper.
) She is usually seen wearing a raggady top and bottoms, covered in mud and grass stains. She has a pale complextion, but very rough skin, usually marked with dirt. 
