NOTE*
This is an Open Thread. I ask only that if you join your first post be an adequate introduction to your character, profile them in the story, but there is no need for a traditional profile to be posted unless you would like to. If you post a profile please keep it simple for instance:
Name: Ama
Age: 20
Race: Human
Appearance: Small frame, white blonde hair, vivid green eyes, light coloring. Dresses in simple gowns according to weather.
I am a firm believer in allowing a character to develop within the story, that is why little is needed where a profile is concerned.
In regard to the story: The story is casual at best, there is a light plot to it which my character, and hopefully a few others, will follow, but for the most part the plan is just to get the characters together to “mingle” and let connection, relationships, and sub-plots grow freely. Being that the majority of the thread is set in a small village, sub-plots may take on a life of their own. If you feel that your personal sub-plot is growing out of control and beginning to shadow the main storyline you are welcome to take it to its own board, post a link in your final, or continuing related posts, so that readers can continue to follow your story if they like and you are willing to allow it.
There will be some R rated situations, however I ask that you keep them tasteful and do not allow them to dominate your posts on a regular basis. This will be open ended for the time being and may grow into several other stories down the road.
Opening Post:
The Truth of Ruin
Burning calves and bloodied feet carried her further, stumbling, slipping, and trembling. The mountain was high and frigid. Its chill gripped her with twisted cruelty and snatched away the feeling from her white skin.
“You will be my boy’s wife.”
“Aye a sweet thing that one.”
“New blood.”
The words swirled around her grasping like icy fingers, pulling on the tattered remains of her once lovely green velvet gown. Her wrists ached, her vision was blurred, but she kept on, downward still, running, rolling, she kept moving, there was no time to stop. Home, all she wanted was home again.
Then she was there. Tripping her way up the road of her childhood, dragging strength from somewhere deep inside. The house was grand, grander now after all the years since she had last seen it. The door opened to her and the bitterness flowed out into her face.
“Ruin!”
“Didn’t you have to good sense to stay gone?”
“Scandal…leave…not welcome here anymore.”
The door slammed shut with a forceful winter wind. She lifted her white fist and pounding, pleading, crying, but her voice was stolen away with the winter storm that tore at her frail form. The only sound that filled the white emptiness was the pounding of her now bleeding fists on the door, louder and louder.
“Ruin!”
Ama gasped and sat forward, enveloped in darkness. She pressed her hands to her face, feeling it slick with sweat. Hearing was dulled by the rush of blood pounding through her veins and her body quivered with the memory of the deadly cold. She took a deep shuddering breath, pushing the numbness from the center of her chest low so that she could breathe comfortably. Her wrists tingled and her feet burned. It was always like that after the dream though.
She jumped at the loud pounding on her bedroom door again.
“Up with ye girl, time to get to work” Someone called from the other side in an annoyed yet muffled voice.
“C-coming.” Ama called back, a little breathless still. She rubbed her chilled thighs with her hands and pulled her wool blanket around her shoulders, then crossed the room and pushed the heavy fabric hanging over her window aside allowing the grey morning light to spill into her small chamber. She shivered and pulled the brown blanket tighter around her small frame as she settled over the chamber pot to take care of her morning business. She was used to early hours but the cold never seemed to get any easier. The village of Sion was situated in the far north, a largely unpopulated territory. Though it was slowly beginning to grow, and did have its fair share of passersby who stayed on for a season or two to see what work could be found or avoid further travel north until spring came again and the ice began to melt.
Ama shook the cobwebs from her mind and rand a trembling hand through the mess of white gold on her head. It needed cut, but she really couldn’t bring herself to part with the long inconvenient tresses, they were all that remained of her prior life, all that was left to remind her that she was someone before and might someday be someone again. With another mental shake she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and set to dressing as quickly as she could in a thick charcoal hued gown and crisp white apron. She combed her hair straight and pulled the mass into a twisting bun at the nape of her neck, her arms protested at the long chore, but it wouldn’t do to leave it feathering down her back so that it could get into the way.
Making her way through the small halls of the inn where she now lived and worked, she moved silently through the twisting corridors that led from the staff area to the kitchens. The pay was pitiful, the work long, and the guests not always well behaved. Yet it was a warm bed, two meals a day, sometimes three, and clothing to shield her from the relentless winter cold. She was more than happy with her situation, she reminded herself, and she tried not to dwell on how different her childhood had been in comparison, today however she was in a black mood, the dream had haunted her again. Would it ever cease?
“Ama! Wake up and stir that fire girl!” Nell snapped with her fists perched on her wide hips and her plump lips set in a grim line. Ama curtsied and made whispered excuses to the domineering woman. Nell was gentle as a puss beneath the layers of her robust body, but when it came to her kitchen she was a fierce lioness. The woman had made a life of overseeing the kitchen girls and tending the gardens in the warmer months. She had instantly taken to Ama, and Ama had soon found herself hopelessly endeared to the large round woman whose grey eyes twinkled with suppressed smiles and unruly red curls poked out from beneath her white cap. “Don’t know what gets into you sometimes, brat.” She added with a huff and turned back to her busy work of rolling out dough for the pastries that would be served for breakfast to the guests.
“I’m sorry Nell.” Ama said softly as she opened the cook stove and poked at the coals. “Bad dream.” She mumbled.
“Again, huh.” Nell commented with a strained grunt, pounding the dough into shape. “Best to just forget it and move on.” She added.
Ama smiled and closed the door on the stove then moved to Nell’s side and began cracking eggs on the side of a bowl. “Easier said than done I’m afraid.”
“Well it won’t do to have you shuffling around here like you’re daft all on account of a nagging dream. Best that you find a better way of dealing with it before you find yourself on the wrong end of a bad situation. You know that crab of a boss we got would just as soon toss you out for sleeping in.” Nell warned in a low voice, pointing her rolling pin at Ama as she spoke with brows raised and a frown on her face.
“I know.” Ama said with a stiff nod. “I will try harder.” She added before turning back to her work. The minutes that followed were filled with nothing but idle chat, two chickens had frozen over night, the cow that went missing last month was found at Jake Marx’s ranch missing its innards, there would be stew for lunch. Then they began their cooking. Ama’s stomach growled in protest as the scents of sweet iced pastries, buttery eggs, and greasy sausage filled the warm kitchen. One thing she hated about her new living arrangement was the fact that the guests were to be fed first, every last one, before the staff was allowed to dine. Usually that meant the meal was meager and cold. Stew for lunch would be a treat though, as it stayed on the stove throughout the day and Nell would add scraps to it to supplement the leftovers for the staff.
Just before the last batch of pastries came out of the oven bells began ringing, guests waking
, and cranky, no doubt. Breakfast was the best meal but the most work, as the tavern remained closed until the midday meal, which provided for peace during the morning, but it also meant that Ama would take the stairs countless times delivering meals and returning for the dishes afterwards.
The Harlot’s Ruin was the only inn that was within the limits of Sion village. It was quaint, but compared to other inns on the outskirts and in the roads that navigated the Wilds, it offered plenty of comforts to its guests. It also provided the most convenient means of socializing in Sion, having a large tavern room with a full bar that served drinks and hot food from lunch until late into the night. This was the life of Ama Hargrave, from a princess to a peasant, Nell would say, and though her current situation was a step up from the one that had put her here, she found she missed her old life, the one that had been ripped from her, with an aching bitterness.
Taking up a covered serving platter Ama sighed at herself for allowing her mind to wander to less pleasant matters and glanced up at the room number above the most frequently ringing bell, then bumped the kitchen door open with her hip and mounted the staff stairs to the second floor. Time to work.
Nariasa
Post subject: Re: The Truth of Ruin (Open IC)
PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:01 am
Taking the stairs countless times in a span of two or three hours was nothing compared to the state in which most of the guests were to be found in. It was the only time when Ama found herself thankful for the trama she had undergone a little less than a year ago. Had she come to the Harlot’s Ruin as the same innocent and sheltered heiress she was six years ago, she would have expired from embarrassment the first day on the job. Men and women alike rarely made any effort to properly clothe themselves before letting her in to serve them and most did not even take a moment to thank her before digging their grubby fingers into the hot meals and stuffing their rosy faces.
Ah but Ama had a dim view of Sion that day, and she was ashamed of it when she sat down in the empty tavern all and plopped her chin in her hand. Sion was not all that bad, she thought. She glanced out of the murky glass of the window. It wasn’t snowing yet and some of the trees were still green. The dirt road was only still dry and the shops were still open. There were trinket shops, bakeries, butchers, armourers, the general goods store, and then the tea café at the end of the road. There were a few small roads that branched off of the main one and offered entry to the sparse neighborhood surrounding the strip. The houses were clean, save for a few, and added a bit of charm to the place. It was the south end, the one nearest to the Harlot’s Ruin, which produced the rowdy types who frequented the tavern. Any of the wealthy families of the area built their plantations and estates miles from Sion, thus minimizing their contact with the less elevated people of Sion’s growing society. She had once been proud to be one of those types.
“Sitting on the job are you?”
Aman jumped to her feet at the nasal sound of Mr. Gunery’s voice and silently scolded herself for drifting off into her thoughts. “No sir, just resting a moment sir.” She stammered, keeping her eyes latched on to his shinny black boots.
“Look at me girl.” He said then and placed his fingers under her chin, forcing her face upward to inspect her. She set her jaw and stared into his mean brown gaze framed by his ruddy fat face, inwardly she cringed at his slick touch, he was always perspiring. “Ah yes, Ama isn’t it?” He said, dropping his hand and placing it into his vest pocket. Mr. Gunnery was a man who liked to flaunt his money, he own a few of the shops in town, including the tailor and the haberdashery, where he commissioned his fine clothing to be made so that he stood out.
“Yes sir.” She replied, clasping her hands together before her.
Mr. Gunnery made a humming sound and fingered his greasy black moustache as he eyed her. “I say, how would you like to work in the tavern serving? The pay is the same, but there are tips to be had, if you treat the guests nicely.” He said. Ama couldn’t suppress the blush that rose to her cheeks. She avoided the tavern hall at all costs when the evening crowd occupied it, working there had little appeal to her, but her blush was because she understood all to well what Mr. Gunnery meant when he mentioned treating the guests nicely.
“I’m happy with my place in the kitchen and above stairs sir, very much so.” She replied.
“Pretty thing like you should be hidden away.” Gunnery commented. “Why when you first came here you were no more than a waif, but you have-“ his eyes raked over her again and then a slow grin broke on his face, revealing a few yellowed teeth “-blossomed.”
Ama twitched involuntarily and smiled tightly. “Thank you sir, even so, I would like to stay under Nell’s direction.”
Mr. Gunnery frowned then shrugged. “Ah, well, your loss then girl. Back to work with you.”
“Thank you sir.” Ama said with a curtsy and skirted around him.
“Oh, and Ama.”
Ama turned to find him gazing intently at her once more. “Yes sir?”
“Should I catch you day dreaming again, you will work without pay for a week.” Mr. Gunnery warned. Ama nodded.
“Yes sir.”
Nariasa
Post subject: Re: The Truth of Ruin (Open IC)
PostPosted: Sat Jun 05, 2010 4:11 pm
Back in the kitchen Ama helped Nell wipe down the cutting tables and preparation counters in silence. The older woman was rarely quiet, and so it was no surprise when she launched into a complete conversation about the importance of socializing with no input from Ama at all.
"Truth be told, brat, I met my Willie at a dance the good father Samuel put on for us working folk. That man's got a good heart, but then he would have to wouldn't he? To be a holy man an all. Well, anyway, as I was saying, that's how I met my Willie, handsome young thing that he was, as romantic as a girl could hope for too. All of the other girls had their eye on him, but old Willie, he had his eye on me, was the hair you see." Nell tugged on one angry red lock and winked. " We were married in the fall after that, just a small thing, but he gave me fourteen years of happiness before he was called out of this world. I cherish each and every one of them." Ama set a hand on the older woman's shoulder, knowing the too recent passing of her husband was still a fresh wound. Nell patted Ama's hand with a moist one of her own and then shrugged it away. "So, its important for young girls to get out and be social, you never know what's out there waiting for you if you don't." Nell finished.
Ama shook her head and moved to stir the fire. "Nell, I have no objection to socializing, you know that."
"Like I do, you don't venture out of this place unless I send you out, and then you are rushing right back in, like you've got something nipping at your heels." Nell replied, turning to face Ama with her fists perched on her hips. " I know hard times sent you here, and you don't really belong here, anyone with eyes can see there is something off about you, but can it be all that bad, brat?"
Ama sighed and dropped her eyes to the floor, it was dirty, needed swept. She crossed the room and grabbed a broom out of the corner and began to push it across the wooden floor. "Yes, Nell, it is that bad." She murmured without meeting the woman's eyes.
"Mayhap you should be telling someone about it, a lawman or something then, don't you think?" Nell persisted.
"No, I don't Nell, I don't want to talk about it, to anyone." Ama grimaced in pain and supressed a curse.
"That foot is hurting again isn't it, well sit down. No sense in working yourself so hard." Nell complained.
"I will rest when the floor is clean." Ama replied sharply. Her left foot, though healed completely, still ached after over use, it was just another reminder of what she was trying to forget. "The tavern will be opening soon, I will take my rest then. Unless you need me." She added once the floor was swept and the broom was put back in place.
"I can manage, go on, the tavern's open, has been for about a quarter hour now." Nell replied. Ama turned her head, she could just make out the sound of people talking in the room next to them. "Go on then." Nell shooed.
"I won't be long." Ama said as she whipped off her apron and smoothed out the wrinkles in the skirt of her colorless gown. She moved through the servant corridors and out into the dark edge of the tavern, it was indeed open, and filling quickly, as usual. She inched her way along the wall, trying to remain unseen and slid into a chair in the corner, covered in the shadows. Ama laid her head back against the cool wooden wall and let her eyes glide shut.
Nariasa
Post subject: Re: The Truth of Ruin (Open IC)
PostPosted: Sat Jun 26, 2010 3:08 pm
Eyes shut, Ama was oddly lulled by the low rumble of people talking and the scrape of booted feet on the wooden floor. She was so tired, she wished she would have had an extra hour to sleep that morning, but the life of a kitchen maid was one that involved an early to rise and late to fall lifestyle. Was it so different from the way her life had been up on the mountain? No, not really, except here she was treated well, and never once came to any physical harm.
“Amaria?”
Ama’s eyes flew open at the use of her given name, bringing her gaze directly to a green gaze that mirrored her own to perfection. Shock flitted through both, recognition and then.
“It is you!”
Her brother Peter said in a hiss as he pulled a chair away from her table and plopped into it with none of the show a man of his stature should have used. His eyes were glued to her, searching her for something, perhaps scars, or telling signs of her past. Ama realized suddenly she had yet to speak. Her tongue was thick and hot and her chest ached. She didn’t want him there, she didn’t want him to see her like this.
“What are you doing here, Peter?” She asked as she forced herself not to throw her tiny form at him and hug his neck. She nearly cringed when a look of hurt passed over his face.
“Looking for you, why else would I come to a place like this.” He answered sharply.
“You are wasting your time, Peter.” Ama replied quickly.
“Amaria-“
“Ama, its Ama now, please.” She corrected with an undertone of urgency. She didn’t want others to over hear Peter using her all too telling name. Peter looked at her as if she had grown a second nose. He looked ridiculously out of place with his fine black breeches and sapphire coat over his crisp white shirt.
“What’s happened to you?” He asked, as if he didn’t know.
“You know the answer to that, and if you do not, go talk to mother and father, they know all of the horrid details.” Ama responded with a bitter note.
Peter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we just talk a moment?” He murmured.
“Fine.” Ama said, clasping her hands tight in her lap as she watched her beautiful brother struggle to contain his anger. “How have you been?” She asked. Peter shot her a look that could freeze water, but then nodded, indicating he would play along.
“Well, very much so in fact. Bethani is expecting our first child.” He answered.
“Congratulations.” Ama was genuinely happy to hear her brother would soon be a father.
“Why, thank you. Mother and father are doing well-“
“I don’t care.” Ama interrupted. “I don’t want to talk about them…ever.” She added.
“Right, okay.” Peter said quietly. “Gavin is returning, finally.” Peter said then, bringing Ama’s full attention. Gavin was her eldest brother, who had gone off on adventure before she was taken to the mountain. He likely heard nothing of her return until recently. She missed him madly, and many nights it was his image she saw when she dreamt of being saved from Carl and Carl Jr. “He didn’t know that you had been found, or returned rather. He has lived this last year still mourning his baby sister.”
“What happened?” Ama asked.
“Well, I assumed that our parents had notified him about your return in their letters, so when I mentioned you having gone off on your own and refused to return home he was livid.” Peter explained.
“Wait. Is that what you think?” Ama asked, feeling anger rise in her chest.
“Well-“ Peter began.
“No, that’s what THEY are telling everyone isn’t it. They put me out Peter, slammed the door in my face because they couldn’t construct a solid enough story to tell their peers about my disappearance that wouldn’t bring on suspicion about my purity. They told me I should have stayed gone!” Ama vented in a low hissing voice, her cheeks red with anger. Peter lowered his gaze to the table.
“I know.” Peter murmured quietly.
“What do you want?” Ama snapped. “Have I not suffered enough at the hands of our family, do you want me to relive it every day of my life? Don’t worry, I don’t need you to remind me about the things that happened. I’m living it.”
“Gavin wants to see you, he demanded that you be returned to the house, he has threatened to cut all ties from the family if you are not.” Admitted.
“Then you will be an only child.” Ama replied dispassionately.
“Won’t you even consider it?” Peter nearly whined.
“No, I want nothing to do with them.” Ama said quickly. “I don’t have a place there anymore and won’t play a role to satisfy anyone.”
“But-“
“No Peter. Tell Gavin I couldn’t be found, or that I am dead, I don’t care, but I won’t go back.”
With that Ama rose, indicating that she was finished with the conversation completely. Peter, being a bred gentleman followed suit, his green eyes speaking volumes as he caught her gaze and held it. “I’m sorry Ama, so sorry.” He said before turning on his heel and striding out of the tavern. Ama took a deep steadying breath, and forced the pain in her chest lower into her belly until she could scarcely feel it at all. What a day it had been, and it was only half way through.
“Ama!” The call of her name snapped her back to attention and she found Riley, another kitchen maid headed toward her with a white square of parchment fluttering in her outstretched hand. “Nell needs some supplies, says you best go get them.” She explained as she pushed the list into Ama’s hand.
“Very well.” Ama replied weakly and tucked the list into the pocket of her skirt.
“Hurry up, we got
mouths to feed.” Riley warned.
With a deep sigh and a shake of her head Ama pulled her cloak around her tightly and headed for the door.
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, and cranky, no doubt. Breakfast was the best meal but the most work, as the tavern remained closed until the midday meal, which provided for peace during the morning, but it also meant that Ama would take the stairs countless times delivering meals and returning for the dishes afterwards.
' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.