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 Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2016 5:18 pm
Originally posted Mon Apr 29, 2013 2:55 pm Characters residing here: Beatrice (slave), Cain (son and master), Evelyn (mother), Genwu (grandfather). INDENTCain comes from one of the oldest families of far eastern pure-blooded immortal beings. In their day, their influence was ubiquitous. You would be hard-pressed to find someone who did not know his grandfather, Genwu. He was a powerful figure in ability, knowledge, and influence; he was the one of the first major leaders among his kind - the kind of beings that humans now regard as folklore. Genwu remained stagnant and unchanging over the millennia, set in his ways, while the world around him evolved of its own accord, in defiance of his old ways. There arose people who objected to rule and in his ignorance, believing himself to be infallible, fell prey to a powerful curse. As his power and function began to deteriorate, he realized that he needed a new body to continue his legacy; he produced a child whom he named Keiji.
INDENT Keiji's existence ushered in a new authority over the mortals. He was the spirit of the sea, and it was upon his whim whether the island people thrived or starved. The renewed rise to power was short-lived, and another move was made to stay afloat: wed Keiji to the woman Mei Feng, child of an equally as powerful deity. The move was too little too late, as humankind had already spiralled beyond control. They were connecting with other humans across the vast sea, building contraptions to overcome the forces of nature itself, eschewing the divine, wrecking havoc upon the land and each other. In his weakened state, Genwu arranged for him and his family to flee, leaving the only land they ever knew, their lives, and their very identities behind.
INDENTIn modern times, the grandfather's name is all but forgotten - as was the rest of his family. The once admirable house they had moved into is now an almost symbolic reflection of their fall from power. The grandfather still lives, but he is too weakened to do anything but merely exist in perpetual agony. Keiji Adam vanished years ago, but no one quite cared; after all, he was just a nobody when he disappeared. It is now just grandfather, grandson Cain, and the daughter-in-law in a house that is just as forgotten as the family legacy. The HouseINDENTIt was an impressive sight way back when, but now it is little more than an eerie, decaying husk, set ominously far away from the rest of town and surrounded on all sides with thick shrub swamp. Only a long and winding, uneven, weathered path - guarded by a rusted gate, no less - connects them to the rest of town. Once Genwu, the only maintainer of the house, was confined to his bed, it suffered neglect until the disappearance of his son. After that incident, the grandson Cain made plans to restore it, but insists on doing it himself instead of hiring help. As a result, things are moving at a snail's pace. Coincidentally, many if not all of their small town's residents believe the house to be abandoned, haunted, or both.
INDENTThe house is a good size by today's standards, but no longer is it the largest or the most comfortable compared to modern mansions. The second floor is entirely symmetrical with 8 bedrooms (two of which are master suites), two broom/linen closets, and two bathrooms. The ground floor has a foyer, an unimpressive kitchen, an empty and unused dining hall, a dusty living room, a fair-sized ballroom, and two more bedrooms. There is a basement that is usually kept locked and a spacious attic that is too perilous to explore.
Outside Appearance (just imagine there is actually a door and the presence of some windows)
When it was built, the house was on a large, lush swath of green surrounded by thick woodland. But with age everything changes, and the environment is no exception. The grounds are overrun with weeds and brush and the trees yield only sparse leaves. The ground has become swampy with excess water and the long, brick-laid path from the main road to the house is broken and overrun with moss (but still a considerably better option than traversing the sticky, muddy ground elsewhere).
Downstairs Entry Hall
Once past the front doors, there is a narrow hall that opens up into a massive room with a Titanic-like staircase. This staircase provides two options for accessing the second floor: to the right is the mostly unused grandfather's wing and to the left is where the rest of the family had claimed. Back in the foyer, the kitchen and dining room are to the right of the staircase and the living room and ball room are to the left. Nestled beneath/behind the staircase are the two extra rooms which have been converted to a music/piano room and an art room. The foyer has been swept and dusted.
Downstairs Kitchen
It's only a fair size, but seems larger due to the lack of furniture/appliances. There's a stove in questionable condition, a pantry with slatted doors, a double sink with little counter space, and a small kitchen table and three chairs but not much else. The shabby door to the yard lets in a draft. The room has been tidied. It now has a modern range/oven, a refrigerator, and a washing machine (though the washer is not yet hooked up).
Downstairs Extra Rooms
Remnants from the days when there were children in the house. Each had their own play room reflecting their different interests; one has a piano, desks, and books in it while the other has old easels, blank canvases, and an old record player. These rooms have been tidied up.
Downstairs Living Room
Arguably the most dusty room in the house. There is beautiful furniture, a large fireplace, another piano, and walls lined with bookcases (packed mostly with yellowed history/reference books) but you'd never know it by looking. The furniture is covered with sheets and those sheets are thickly caked with dust. The bookshelves and fireplace, which could not be covered, need some intense TLC to be purged of caked on dust. This room has been cleaned, scrubbed, dusted, polished, and tidied up.
Downstairs Ballroom
Big and empty. In its day it saw regular use in the form of a large, annual party. There are many fond memories attached to the vacuous space, but you'd never know by looking. The floors, walls, and ceiling here are the most solid and stable. This room has been swept, dusted, and scrubbed. It is almost back to its full, former glory. The expansive floors just need waxing.
Downstairs Dining Hall
A very long rectangular room that would echo even the slightest sounds... if not for all the broken windows and rubble strewn about. The long table inside is broken in several places and unusable. A little more than half the many chairs are also broken. The room hasn't been used since the grandfather was bedridden and some of the broken windows have plastic sheeting nailed over them. To keep nature out of the rest of the house, the doors to this room are always closed. Half of this room has been swept and fraction of the table made usable by cobbling together various pieces.
Upstairs Master Bedrooms
There are two, one at each end of the upstairs halls. One houses the grandfather and is the most tidy, intact room of the whole house. The other belonged to the son's wife and her husband, but now the door is kept locked and she has been moved to a different bedroom.
Upstairs Bedrooms
There are six of them. One is occupied by the son's wife, Evelyn; another is occupied by the grandson, Cain; a third is reserved for the other grandson who moved away many years ago; and a fourth is now Beatrice's. Two bedrooms remain unused.
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Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2016 9:50 pm
  ⊰ Beatrice had been asleep in the back of a van for the last few hours before she found herself suddenly awake. A pot hole had been the source of her awakening, and the van bouncing over it had knocked the female straight into the side of the van. Sure, there was a thin mattress covering the floor of the van, but it didn't mean it offered any real protection when one's hands were tied up, along with ankles as well. Crying out slightly, she raised her hands to rub her shoulder awkwardly, a slight painful tingling running down her arm. If the collar around her neck hadn't been there, she might have been able to protect herself a little better from bouncing around in the back of the van. Alas, the courier company that had taken over her transport were less than forgiving; the Hotel's own delivery service could only get her so far before an independent company took over, one who didn't care so much about the state their cargo was delivered in. One tended to be in a weakened state when there was no access to food.
Her body was the canvas that showed just how much the men driving the van didn't care. Her wrists had minor rope burns from being bound like the slave she was, along with her ankles, and her ribs had various bruises from rough handling. She hadn't been hit, the men wasn't that stupid, but it was clear that she hadn't been treated well, especially with the bruises from this van ride alone. There were a couple on each arm, and she was sure her shoulder would receive a nice one. Admittedly, she thought she might have been treated a little better, since she had been a fully fledged Angel at one point, but she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been treated worse because she came from one of the best quality slaveries around. Sighing, she curled up low on the mattress, just in case another pot hole sent her bouncing into the vans wall once more; it was bad enough she looked like s**t simply because people had different views on how slaves should be treated.
Slowly turning around, Beatrice saw the screen that separated the back of the van to the drivers. Rolling over to the side of the van, she used it to get to her feet, pressing her weight into the van wall to stand up. Sure there wasn't much standing room, but at least now she could talk to the people in front. Banging on the plexi-glass, she called out softly to them. "E-Excuse me? Are we getting close?" Hearing a screech of brakes, it was Bella's only warning that the van was about to stop. Dropping to her knees, she yelped as her back slammed against the wall separating the front and back. As the van got back up to speed, she heard a voice, the one that tied her up in the first place. "Get back down, slave. I'll tell you when we arrive. Sit down and shut up if you don't want to be a bloody mess for your new Master." Deciding it was best to shut up, the normally chatty Banished Angel was forced to fall silent, still dressed in her ratty, horrid clothes from the market place. At least she knew it was a man she was going to serve, a little bit of fog blown away from her mystery location.
It felt like an age before the woman noticed they had begun to slow down a little, most likely for the driver to make sure he had the right address so they could get paid, and Bella found herself hitting the back doors of the van again as they came to a shuddering stop. As the two men in the front began to mutter some things about the house they'd stopped at, the screen between the front cabin and the back opened, a brown parcel being thrown back. Getting to her knees to crawl forward to inspect the package, she heard her name called. "Hands. Give 'em here." Without a word, she stood up - as best as one could in a small van - and placed her hands through the panel, the rope being deftly cut as the man that tied her up in the first place spat out instructions. "There are three outfits in the bag in the parcel. Put the skirt and the black and white top with spots, and knock on the van doors when you're done." Calling out a 'yes' in a raspy voice, the woman quickly did as she was asked. It was a fight to undo her ankle bindings, but with some wriggling, and a bit of rough rubbing of her skin to make it seem as clean as possible, she was dressed. At least they had the sense to give her presentable clothing, and she hated to admit that she quite liked the blouse, even if it would most likely be burned later down the track.
The sun was a burning shock when the men ripped the van doors open - she couldn't even tell if it was morning, midday or late afternoon - and sitting on the edge of the van to adjust to the light, the other man who'd been driving stopped her with a hand on the shoulder. "Shoes. so you don't track blood into your new home- " and a pair of strappy black sandals was handed to her. "-and put this over your shoulders." Beatrice knew why the cape-like jacket was being forced upon her; to hide her bruises from the less than careful van ride. Doing as she was told, jewellery was placed in her hands, and she was told to put it on to be more presentable. The necklace was adding insult to injury, for it had a single black metal wing hanging from it, almost like they were advertising what she was for her new Master. The black earrings just made her feel worse; the two idiot men would have had no way to know she was a Fallen, so dressing her in all black was like hammering home an already depressing message. Maybe they did know what she was, after all, they had a wing necklace ready after all. Their smirks weren't helping her feel confident they were ignorant to what she was either. The whole scenario was quite degrading, especially when they made her walk the rest of the way to the old house surrounded by old trees. It looked so forgotten and sad, it even made Bella's heart tug painfully. Who would let a house fall into ruin? Clutching the bag in her arms under the cape, she walked to the front door of the mansion, her hair hanging dully around her face. How she so desperately wished she'd looked better; first impressions were fantastic in her books. Right now, she felt dirty, disrespected and thoroughly not worthy for whoever had bought her. She could hear the sound of the van even as she reached the front of the house, the white vehicle had been following her up the moss covered driveway the whole time to make sure she didn't run. They could have easily dropped her off at the door, taken their payment and gone, it just seemed that the men wanted to have the last say in reminding Beatrice just how low on the food chain she was right now.
|| o.o.c;; edits have been made. not many, just a few. ex-boss is now just shitty delivery men who don't give two shits. I think your posts would still be fine after name changes
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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2016 8:17 pm
 Wearing black twill jeans, ankle boots, black tee :: Stats 5'5" - 114lbs
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xxxxxxxxxxCAIN
INDENT Where did I put the bread?
INDENT That stupid dog is barking again.
INDENT Stay away from there.
INDENT God, I hope she never finds out about this.
INDENT This can't be it. It looks like it's abandoned for years.
INDENT Wait. That last one. It was new. It was the "voice" of someone not from the area. The "loudness" was of little help to approximate their distance; it was equally as far as the others. He focused in on that unfamiliar voice, sifting through the whispers and grasping firmly the one that piqued his interst.
INDENT Hands. Give 'em here.
INDENT There are three outfits in the bag in the parcel. Put the skirt and the black and white top with spots, and knock on the van doors when you're done.
INDENT Damn slave. Bruises too easy.
INDENT Yes, the cause of much anxiousness ever since that order was made and partially paid: a new body would soon enter the house and the lives of its inhabitants. Granted, this new inhabitant was just a slave, disposable in more ways than one, but it was a sentient being all the same. The damage that could be done in even a short amount of time was innumerable. Nevertheless, things would very soon come to a head, as the slave was finally here. The "master" of the house, and the soon to be master of the slave, closed his eyes tightly rubbed his fingers to the sides of his heads. Letting the voices in was far easier than blocking them out again, but a lifetime of practice had all the intrusions silenced after a mighty show of willpower. He rose from where he sat and brushed off his pants; perhaps black was not the best idea to wear when sitting on the filthy floor of the dining room. He picked leaves and other debris off the seat of his pants as he navigated through the vacuous and decrepit room, emerging finally into the large foyer. There, illuminated with a dust-hazed glow from some skylight overhead, was the older woman he shared the house with. She was sweeping the floor with a besom broom as ineffective at cleaning as she was. It was usual, for this time of day, to find her sweeping the foyer. It was a two-hour daily ritual for her, before moving on to the kitchen to "prepare dinner." Routine and stability was good for her, he was sure, and that was why his stomach was in knots about the thought of disturbing it.
INDENT "Mother Eve?" son addressed softly, gently, like one would talk to a sleeping child, to his mother. As if he hadn't spoken at all, there was no reaction. Mother Eve was humming softly as she swept, moving slowly and rhythmically. Mustering more courage, he reached out and just grazed her shoulder with his fingers. The cherry-red haired woman flinched, pulled away, and turned about in one fluid motion. She wore a fleeting expression of fear which quickly became a queer smile.
INDENT "Oh, you're home early! I'm sorry, I don't have dinner ready yet. I'll start right away." A dainty hand raised to affectionately stroke the cheek of the man before her. Looking aside towards the stairs, she called, "Kids! Your father's home early!"
INDENT It wasn't the first time she confused her own son, Cain, for her husband, Adam. But no matter how many times it happened, the metaphorical salt in the wound stung no less. With the same lifeless smile on her face, Eve wandered off towards the kitchen and disappeared past the doors. Cain's eyes lowered to the floor, worn and scratched and blackened from treading upon the wood, and seized a moment to review his decision. Was it selfish to have, in a way, passed on the burden of his mother to someone else? It wasn't as if she was ever going to get better, anyway... so there was not much to lose, right? He decided that he might as well greet the newest addition to the house and the ones escorting her; if he was lucky, he would meet them partway down the driveway before they could get too close to the house and risk being seen by Eve. To his displeasure, as he opened the door he could already see the young woman (dressed just as depressingly as the yard and bumpy drive serving as backdrop) had reached the dry, sun-bleached wooden platform that served as their front porch. Behind her, a short ways down the driveway, was an unmarked van with two men inside. Cain looked first at the slave - he knew her name was Beatrice from the paper the slaver establishment had sent him - then turned his attention to the men in the van. He stepped around her and moved towards the van. Through the window he slipped an envelope with the last of her payment to the driver within. Without a word, he returned to the porch and the lone girl standing there and looked her up and down like the merchandise she technically was. He only had a vague idea what to expect; in a way, she was like a mail-order purchase in that he knew he was getting a particular product, but he knew not the quality or what lay beneath the [possibly doctored] advertising. Accordingly, he wondered if this girl, Beatrice, would fit her new role or if he would regret wasting the time and money.
INDENT ...Well, considering that the former was not an exhaustible resource for an immortal, only the latter would have truly been wasted.
N o i r Wafflesaurus Apparently Photobucket is having a heart attack? At least, that's what it looks like on my end. I hope it's just a temporary problem and not that I've lost all my images ever... Apparently it's just site maintenance? Hopefully?
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Posted: Thu May 05, 2016 5:51 am
⊰ Maybe if Beatrice hadn't been so keen to get away from the men that delivered her so disrespectfully, she might have taken her time and really noticed just how forlorn the house and it's gardens looked - and how much she matched that scene. Of course, she'd been a lot more presentable upon leaving the Hotel, but she couldn't change that now. It wasn't her fault that the two troglodytes in the van had no idea how to treat a living being. Heart racing in her chest, she'd barely gotten within a foot of the front porch before the door began to open. Stepping up quickly, she straightened herself out before offering up a polite smile. Unsurprisingly, she found herself being stared at with little emotion; it seemed that he wasn't too keen on the van or herself being so close to the house already. Watching him step around her, she kept her spot on the front porch, clutching the bag to herself as this man walked to the van to finish the transaction. As embarrassing and degrading as this whole deal was, the woman had to admit, at least she wasn't being sold as a sex slave. Although she doubted she'd have even got this far if that had been the case; would the pearl on her collar have even remained if things had been different?
As the man turned and began to walk back, Bella gently ran a hand through her less than shining locks and her polite smile returned. Trying her best to appear presentable even though there was the yellowed bruising on her cheek and the other dark marks upon her arms, she wanted to at least give it her best shot. Curtsying in a polite fashion, she settled her gaze back on the man who was most likely still judging her. "Greetings sir, or Master? Whatever you prefer. I guess you can call me either Beatrice or Bella. I'd prefer Bella honestly, but... It is up to you in the end. You're the one in charge!" Quite unsure of how to actually introduce herself in this sort of situation, the little lady was quite proud of herself for being so forward and relatively perky while the white van stood silent in the drive way still. The thought to hold out a hand for him to shake had been bouncing around her head, but he didn't look like the type to go for such an intimate greeting. Shame really, she did have a tendency to be a bit touchy-feely with those she lived with. Glancing over at the van hesitantly, not hearing the engine rev to leave, the fallen angel shuffled her weight on her feet. "If it's not too forward sir, might we head inside? I don't particularly trust these gentlemen. They're not the nicest men if I was to be blunt. I don't think the Hotel even meant for them to transport me actually... But they did have my file so... Would it... Can we go inside?" Rambling just a little bit thanks to nerves, it was quite obvious that Beatrice did not like being in the presence of the dodgy gentlemen in the van. They had tied her up after all.
Bringing a hand up to her bruised cheek, Bella took a slow breath in. Nearly two days of not eating was usually bearable for a human - only just though - but coupled with her still slightly active powers of healing, she'd been using her final reserves to make herself look as presentable as one could after travelling in the back of a dusty van. 'You're strong Bella. You can wait it out. You are not weak! You are safe now.' The little pep talk in her head seemed to work slightly, because although her face had slowly begun to lose it's colour, she stood her ground firmly. "I don't know if you've read my file, but I am extremely capable with house work. I can cook and clean, and I'm stronger than I look. Don't let my height fool you! I'm also very good with the elderly, children and pets, and I guess the handicapped, disabled and those who aren't all there. I guess that makes me quite an all-rounder actually. I'm sorry but... They neglected to tell me your name, sir. Do ya mind? Or would 'master' or 'sir' suffice for now?" Again, Beatrice rambled on a little, but this time it was more in an effort to distract her from her weakening knees and that the van still hadn't made a move to leave. What on Earth were those two males playing at? How rude. Or was this just an elaborate prank, and the male standing before her was the son of her new Master? Or was he just an errand boy? He looked almost too young to need a slave - not like there was an age limit really - but he didn't look old enough to need someone of her expertise. Maybe he had a sickly wife and needed a babysitter and a carer combined? She did had the caring nature for such a job, and he was easy enough on the eyes to have such a thought be viable. It would explain the rough look to the house as well. Still, if he wasn't the one who'd bought her then boy, was she going to be embarrassed after all that.
|| o.o.c;; few more edits, refining my old writing like a nit-picky fool haha! I'm home off work at the moment with a virus so I should be able to catch up more depending how much you're around. when isn't photobucket an a**, to be honest hahahaha
your avi is so precious omfg~ it's great!
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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri May 06, 2016 6:37 pm
Wearing black twill jeans, ankle boots, black tee :: Stats 5'5" - 114lbs
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xxxxxxxxxxCAIN
INDENT As he returned to inspect the merchandise, she fidgeted. First it was to play with her hair, then it was a forced little smile, then even a curtsy. She was that nervous and eager to appease, huh? Cain circled her only once in his cursory examination as she babbled on about herself and her wants and her skills. At least her self-reported skills matched what he remembered of her file. And she clearly feared him, if only for his status as her purchaser, and fear was crucial for obedience. Though she was noisier than he would have liked, even if it was all due to her nerves, he knew of someone that would appreciate a verbose conversation partner. Without answering her lattermost question, Cain nodded his head towards the house's shabby wooden door, so dried and weathered from age just looking at it could give one splinters. She was to enter first and he, not unlike a heinous fiend trapping a weary traveller within its lair, closed the door behind them both. Cain crept behind her slowly; each purposeful step of his boots also made the floorboards creak and squeak underfoot. Only once she had wandered well into the sad and empty foyer did Bella's new owner finally talk to her.
INDENT "Name's Cain," he said from somewhere behind her. His eyes scanned the room, observing the same things she was probably observing. The room's lack of furniture meant there were less nooks and crannies for dust and debris to latch on to. The single, large frosted glass skylight high up above meant this room was, at least during the day, fairly well illuminated - in contrast to places like the ballroom or the bathroom. All the airborne dust turned that cool white light of day into a general haze all throughout the room, accentuating just how dismal it was. Yeah, she was probably thinking that exactly - what a sad place to live, right? Was she thinking this was some practical joke, that these were slave quarters and the real home was a mighty mansion atop a hill? Was she already wishing someone else had purchased her? Tough luck. He continued, "Yer job is ta cook an clean. An as y'can see, there's a lotta cleanin t'do. I say ya start upstairs, i's mostly all bedrooms up there, so's it'll be easier. An you can jus' pick one you wanna stay in. Empty one, y'know... there're three a'um we ain't usin. The only rooms you ain't gonna worry bout are the basement, dinin' room, ballroom, an' attic. And, uh... now le's see..."
INDENTA cognitive pause. How to breech the subject of her other responsibility. Cain's eyes lowered to the girl again. She was in pretty bad shape - bruises, pale skin, pretty thin, and just generally unhealthy looking. Seems someone hadn't been treating her very well... or, alternatively, taking very good care of her. While he wasn't going to treat her like the finest delicate butterfly, he would at least maintain her health so she could do her job(s). Getting the emaciated girl some food or water was probably a good place to start; the only problem was... As if on cue, there was a sudden clanging of metal from a nearby room. Bella's new master made his way to one of the doors leading from the foyer - his comfortable pace indicated he wasn't too alarmed about the event - and pushed it open. He stood just outside the threshold and called in, "You all right?"
INDENTBeyond the door, a woman was crouched in front of what looked like an unbelievably antiquated stove. Around her were numerous pots, pans, and lids, all which seem to have tumbled out of the appliance. In her hand was the door to that compartment which apparently had broken off. But what was more noticeable than the sparsely furnished and decaying room was the very un-human appearance of the woman herself. She had tomato red hair, and the fine lines on her face implied she was probably a little beyond the age of dyed hair. Sprouting from between her shoulders were two sad little stumps, from which sprouted equally sad warm-grayish plumage. Currently, she seemed baffled at how the stove's compartment door could have ever broken. "It broke!" She stated obviously, looking at the piece in her hand. It had definitely seen better days and by the looks of it, it was a marvel it lasted as long as it did. "I can't believe it. Didn't we just get this last month?"
INDENTThe strange woman looked over to the bodies visible through the kitchen doorway. All concern over the decrepit appliance was forgotten at the sight of a stranger. Instead of her befuddlement, she wore a warm and welcoming smile. The stove was forgotten; she let the door join its cookware brethren on the floor then stood up; she was on the tall side, at least taller than her son. "Oh, Cain! Who's your little friend? Hello there, sweetie, I'm little Cain's mother! You can call me Missus Eve or mother, if you'd like. No need to be shy."
Green finch and linnet bird,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Nightingale, blackbird,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Teach me how to sing.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
If I cannot fly,
Let me sing. N o i r Wafflesaurus I SHOULD BE DOING MY TERM PROJECT
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Posted: Sun May 15, 2016 7:20 am
⊰ So far, the man hadn't said a word. It didn't really worry Bella much, but the fact the van hadn't started either was beginning to make her get a little antsy. Yet, his nod to the door spoke more than words could right now, and gleefully she entered the house she was now forced to call 'home'. Stepping inside, she felt slightly safer, especially because the van's engine finally chugged into life and began to emit the irritating beep to signal it was reversing. Looking around, the woman started slightly when the door shut, almost signalling her fate within the walls of the somewhat derelict house. His footsteps made the floorboards creak with each slow step of his booted feet, and Beatrice found herself walking much lighter than she usually would, like the weight of her footsteps would just make everything that little bit more real. As the space became larger - a foyer no doubt - she finally got an answer to her question. Cain. Looking over her shoulder at him briefly, his sudden voice making her twitch in surprise, she went back to scanning the room. There was a large stained glass window that filled the room with light, but aside from that the foyer seemed to be lacking in decorations. It was a litte bit heartbreaking to see such a large space so empty, but given the state of this area, it was probably more trouble to keep decorations dust-free than to bother with displaying anything. Still, as hazy and dismal as the foyer and hall were, she could imagine what it was like when it was first built. It wasn't hard for her to imagine such things; she was a diamond in the rough herself currently, a brilliant gemstone hidden under layers of sin and banishment.
Cain's voice pipped up again while Bella kept her focus on the glass skylight above them. Cooking and cleaning. Now that she could do. Standing up a little straighter with this gift Cain had just unwillingly given her - she could have cheered out loud that the pearl would be staying on her collar - it was definitely a relief knowing she would actually be useful to this man. Nodding as he listed the places she was expected to clean first, thankfully easy places like the bedroom, he also listed places she didn't need to clean. Attics and basements were generally storage spaces, so there was little point in cleaning them, but the fact the dining room and ballroom were to be ignored made her curious. Shifting her gaze from his face as his eyes trailed over her less than healthy form, she felt rather uncomfortable. Sure the outfit she'd been forced to put on was nice, but in this setting it just felt depressing, especially with her unhealed injuries. Chewing the inside of her cheek as she exhaled slowly, the fallen one felt incredibly self-conscious, an entirely new feeling. No, she wasn't a vain or a proud being, but she was humble enough to admit that everyone needed to feel beautiful at least once in their lives. Right now, she felt anything but that.
Jumping in surprise as something metallic clanged somewhere in the house, Bella watched Cain move to one of the doors in a oddly relaxed way, and ask whoever was inside if they were okay. Hesitantly walking after the man, she heard a woman's voice. Peeking around his shoulder - the joy of being height challenged - Beatrice saw a mop of the prettiest tomato-red hair ever, and heard the woman's almost overly surprised voice. Stepping around Cain a little, just to get a better view of the kitchen and the woman inside, clear blue eyes noticed the appliance that was being questioned. This woman sounded like she had no idea the appliance was so old, but it was so outdated, how could she not know? Frowning slightly, it took a moment for the gears to turn in her mind. Could this be the other reason she was purchased, to help look after this lovely woman who was stuck inside her mind? Bella was a creature of light and healing, maybe she could be much more useful than just a cook and cleaner. The stubs of grey coloured plumage on her back made her heart ache though; she had her own scars from plumage long gone. She certainly wasn't human, so what did that make Cain if he was her son?
Caught up in her own thoughts, Beatrice nearly missed the fact that the woman was now talking to her. She was taller than herself (not overly hard, she thought to herself) but also taller than Cain. The smile she had was innocent and sweet, and the way she spoke just confirmed Bella's thoughts on the subject, but also gave her some insight to just what kind of world this woman was living in. "Missus Eve, it's so nice to meet you. My name's Beatrice, but you can call me Bella." It was nice to be honestly polite instead of formally polite like she had been upon meeting Cain. Stepping past the man to move into the kitchen, her bag was deposited on the table and she stood with her hands on her hips over the pile of cookware and pots. "Well ain't that just a nuisance, hmm? Pop was a handyman so I reckon I have an idea on how to fix this! He showed me a thing or two while I was growin' up." It felt wrong to lie so blatantly to this kind woman, but she wasn't about to blow her cover so early in front of her new Master. Picking up the discarded door from it's home amongst the pots, Bella tucked her skirt under her knees and she knelt down before the well loved appliance, staring at the empty space where the door once rested. Placing the door on her lap, she unclipped the sterling silver chain from around her neck and allowed the black wing pendant to fall to the floor to disappear under the oven, the blasted thing finally out of sight and mind. Checking to make sure the latches were still attached - with some absurd amount of luck they were barely holding on - she held the door in place where it was meant to be, and with some fiddling, the banished angel (to her own immense surprise) managed to get the door to stay in place, the chain holding it just in place on it's old hinges with some deft looping and entwining. "Well it aint a professional fix, but it'll do for now!" Even her formal tone of voice was starting to slip into something with a more casual ring to it.
Grinning happily from her spot on the floor, Beatrice made a move to stand up. Legs still feeling slightly weak, she felt pretty confident she could still stand - until a wave from fatigue and memories made her vision darken, and Bella promptly collapsed to her knees again; being in such close proximity she'd gotten a very good glimpse of Eve's stumps and the crushing feeling of loss overwhelmed her in her current weakened state. "Well that'll learn me to rush! Shouldn't have tried to stand so quick." She joked, brushing off the feelings that passed through her. The scars were still as visible on her back as the day she's had her wings taken, and they would never leave, no matter how much she tried to heal them. Not until her Judgement Day would they fade, not even the slightest amount. Every time she looked in the mirror, it was a constant reminder of what she'd done wrong, along with other visual memories that came with the scars. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she chuckled, albeit shakily, but she didn't want to worry this Eve woman. "Sorry that I jumped in there with the door fixing, I do hope you don't mind." Shrugging in what she hoped was a sheepish manner, she did feel silly and forward for just rushing in. Casting her eyes over to Cain, there was a little bit of concern beginning to bubble up in her chest. Had she done the right thing? What this what Cain had been about to tell her, that his mother wasn't quite all there? Every fibre of her being was praying that she'd gone and done the right thing and not messed everything up so soon.
|| o.o.c;; I need to get off my lazy a**... more edits, but another one down! we'll have everything copied in no time!
cain and bella are way more interesting than projects
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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon May 16, 2016 1:18 am
Wearing black twill jeans, ankle boots, black tee :: Stats 5'5" - 114lbs
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xxxxxxxxxxCAIN
INDENT Just a moment ago he had been mistaken for his father - an infuriating yet more common coincidence lately - but now he was being reduced to a child. Yeah. "Little Cain" had some explaining to do. He turned his head to address his new property, assumed to be standing behind him, to explain the predicament. Unexpectedly, she took matters into her own hands; after answering, she brushed right past him and approached the offbeat woman. He watched as Bella jerryrigged the thing back together using the chain of her necklace. Not as sturdy as the straight pins that had miraculously lasted until now, but enough to work for now and definitely enough to impress him. When the little mircale-worker removed the hand that supported the cabinet door and the blasted thing stayed, Eve clapped her hands together with the widest closed-lipped smile imaginable. "Oh, Bella, sweetie, you're a little angel!" She gushed, "Your parents must be--"
INDENT -so proud, she would have said, had Bella not stumbled and fell. Eve stood at once with a flounce of her plain, long skirt and offered both hands down to the other woman to pull her up. "Oh, do be careful now, sweetie. Up you go!" Once the fallen angel was up again, Eve spotted the girl's frame beneath the cloak. She was surprised; Bella was too thin, too frail! "Goodness! Bella, honey, you're so thin! Are you eating enough? Let me fix you two a snack before dinner."
INDENT Cain decided now was a good time to intervene, before Eve got herself into more culinary chaos. He entered the kitchen and gently placed his hand upon her shoulder, before she could make a move for the nearest cooking utensil. (The dark scorchmarks upon the bottoms of most of them could explain quite a lot for those that were observant.) "Uh, wait. I need your help first," he mumbled, quietly, as if this was a secretive conversation, and in a manner of voice quite unlike it had been minutes ago. "Can you go find Abel? We were playing, um, hide and seek and we can't find him. But I know you can."
INDENT Eve sighed and shook her head in disbelief. Now again! She agreed, punctuating her leave with you silly kids! shuffling out of the room. The biggest problem of such a large house was always something like this - finding things! Or in this case, finding her children. But she knew all their favorite spots and was sure she would find him quickly. Cain waited until Eve had left the room and even a few moments more until he finally spoke again. Better late than never in explaining things, right? Esepcially since she already had a taste of things to come.
INDENT "...An' tha's the other thing," he began. After a pause, Cain shifted his faze from the doorway and to Bella. "She's like that - a few san'wiches short of a picnic, y'know? She's kinda stuck in the past, in'er head an' all, so's she's always fergettin' names, faces, plans, y'know, stuff. So's tha's another part a yer job. Keep an eye on 'er. Jus' go wi' whatever she's sayin', an' if she asks, yer' a neighbor girl. Got it?"
INDENT Got it. Good. He averted his gaze to punctuate the end of that topic, pointing and gesturing where appropriate for his next explanation. "This's the kitchen. Can't redo it 'til I fix the lines an' s**t so you'll have ta deal. The stove's gas but the lines're s**t. Ain't got a frigerator yet, but we got things in the pantry... bread, canned s**t, preserved food, the works. Go. Eat something."
Green finch and linnet bird,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Nightingale, blackbird,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Teach me how to sing.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
If I cannot fly,
Let me sing. N o i r Wafflesaurus Yup yup. And as we get closer to the more present stuff, the less we have to amend.
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Posted: Mon May 16, 2016 5:37 am
⊰ Well, that stumble turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Not only did it stop Eve from finishing the sentence that would have made Bella feel most awkward, but it also allowed the fallen angel to lean on someone for just a moment while being helped to her feet. The 'up we go sweetie' comment made the angel's heart flutter in a sentimental way; the kind, caring sound of a mother's concern. Beatrice herself had been the motherly, caring one in her little group, tending for her brethren that were, most of the time, much taller than herself. The thought of her comrades she left behind made her back burn slightly in pain, a most special seal between her scars reminding her that her thoughts weren't welcome. Lost in her thoughts slightly, her attention snapped back in time to hear her less than ideal condition criticised. Touching her bruised cheek in a most sheepish manner, all she could do was smile weakly as the offering of a meal was dropped upon her. The questionable state of the pots on the floor was all the reassurance Bella needed that Eve's offer was potentially going to be shot down, and on cue Cain piped up, wandering up to his mother with a soft speaking voice. It was sweet how he was so gentle with the woman. Smiling sweetly to herself as the red-head scurried off, muttering some adorable things under her breath, blue eyes trailed over to Cain as he spoke of Eve's mental state. Nodding solemnly as she was told that Eve would most likely forget who she was, Bella hugged herself under the cloak she'd been given to wear. If she was to pretend to be a neighbour-girl, she would be the best damn friendly neighbour-girl ever.
Without skipping a beat, Cain proceeded to explain about the kitchen. Following his gestures, Bella felt her stomach silently rumble with talks of what small stockpile they had with the lack of a fridge. As long as there was tinned food and other items that had a long shelf life, she didn't need much else - pasta and rice were staple enough to get by until she could help Cain fix up the place. With the order to eat something firm in her mind, Bella immediately turned on her heel and headed for the pantry with fervour. Fingers dusting over different cans, the first things she grabbed were tinned corn kernels and carrot disks; those kinds of food would keep forever if the tin wasn't damaged in any way. Rubbing the labels with her thumbs, Bella allowed herself a moment to sigh gently. She could feel the enchanted silk around her neck when she moved, the fabric and it's charms only visible to the Master that bought her. It was useful in retrospect, having a magical collar that only the Master could see or touch, especially if they lived in a more populated area. Aside from those that could pass it off as a fashion accessory, it was most likely easier to enchant them to be out of sight and mind to those who were none the wiser. The charms, admittedly, were the worst part for Beatrice, almost like her worth as a person was on display. The heart charm was acceptable, since she was proud to be a gentle and loving soul, and the music note to show she could sing quite well, but it was the pearl for her innocence that went against everything she'd been brought up to believe. Touching the pearl in question, her fingers skimmed over the broken mirror charm, denoting her permanently scarred body. Like she needed more reminders of her banishment. With little facial expressions to give away her thoughts, Beatrice silently went back and forth between the table and the pantry, making a nice little collection of items for a simple soup - some out of date powder stock cubes, a couple of old packets of spaghetti pasta which she could use for noodles, and of course the small tins of vegetables she found earlier.
Unbuttoning the cloak around her shoulders, Bella gently folded it up and placed it with the bag of clothes she put on the table before. The blouse she'd been given was at least mostly black, with a spotty panel over her shoulders, her décolletage nicely covered up. The few hints of blue inside the bag had lifted her spirits too, and the prospect of changing into something a little bit brighter and happier was a good mood lifter too. Gently rummaging through the pile of cookware on the floor, putting them away carefully as she went, a decent sized pot was kept aside to make the soup in. Walking with a spring in her step over to the sink, it took a bit of effort to get water to flow, but with a groan the pipes released a decent flow of almost clear water; Eve obviously still used the taps on a semi regular basis. Letting it flow for a couple of seconds so that the clearer water took over, she filled the pop ready for the stove. Looking for a box of matches or whatever it was that Eve used to light the stove, this was going to be the make-it-or-break-it moment - would the gas to the stove flow? Frowning slightly as seconds ticked past with no hissing sound of gas, Beatrice had all but given up when the smallest of hisses was heard, along with the tell-tale smell of gas. Lighting the section as quickly as she could, a beaming smile crossed the woman's features. It was weak, but there was heat; as long as it was enough to heat the water up she could make something edible. Adding the powder stock to the water, the banished angel sorted through the items to double check everything. So far, the tinned vegetables were the winners - the carrot disks, sweet corn and even some baby peas - along with the pasta which was broken up into noodle-sized shards. While the water slowly came to an actual boil, Bella rummaged about for a tin opener and drained off the vegetables before dumping all the contents of the tins along with the pasta shards into the flavoured water.
It took much longer than it would have with a fully-functioning stove, but Beatrice was pleased with herself. It was a pretty poor excuse for soup since it was powdered stock, but at least there was flavour. The vegetables were warmed through, and to be perfectly honest with herself, for what she had to work with it was pretty decent. Finding something to ladle it out with was the hard part, and failing to locate something big enough, the woman just tracked down a bowl and spoon and dunked the bowl straight into the pot. Cleaning off the drips, the happy woman sat herself down with a quick grin to Cain. "There's plenty there if you wish to try it, Cain, sir." Came her gentle voice, spooning a mouthful in. A few moments later, half the bowl gone, Bella's voice sounded again. "Would it be too much of me to ask if I could freshen up? Two days in a van isn't the nicest if I was to be honest." Chuckling nervously, spoon swirling around in the remains of the soup in her bowl, she pushed forward with her other question on her mind "You ah... You don't happen to have any spare clothes around, would ya? I haven't been given much, an' I'd rather reuse things so you don't have ta spend money on me." Feet bouncing gently on the floor, her casual tone overriding her cautious, polite one from earlier, she waited nervously for Cain's answer. With the beginnings of a meal in her stomach, her body was starting to remember what it was like to have energy to heal, especially now she was out of the Hotel with all it's magic wards. The sickly grey undertone to her skin was slowly becoming a warmer creamy tone, and the dark circles below her eyes were fading. The bruises on her body weren't quite disappearing as fast as she had hoped - she had feared that the collar would still inhibit most of her powers even outside the Hotel - but they didn't look as fresh and offensive as they had when she showed up on his porch. At least she looked more alive than a walking corpse, but a good wash would definitely make her feel better. Scrubbing away the dust from the van was also very appealing in her mind. All that remained was for Cain to answer her sudden questions, or for Eve to come bustling in to find that someone had invaded her kitchen.
|| o.o.c;; it's almost fun to go back and re-write my posts, I might come to miss it when we get closer to the present stuff~ ||
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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon May 16, 2016 11:19 pm
Wearing black twill jeans, ankle boots, black tee :: Stats 5'5" - 114lbs
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xxxxxxxxxxCAIN
INDENT Cain watched as the woman went to work, bustling around the kitchen, grabbing this and that and all sorts of assorted items. It was clear that the gears in her mind were turning. She was a woman on a mission and he was not going to get involved. He stood by, watching for a length of time, until realizing that it was awkward to do so; instead, he slipped out and back into the foyer. After all, it was logical that she would want to claim a room and all that after eating what was probably her first meal in a while. She could take the day to get settled in, to rest up, and then start cleaning the next day. He ascended the stairs and stopped at the landing where the hall forked in either direction. How often did anyone actually fully explore the place? Was it even safe to do so? No cracked floorboards, no bowing ceilings, right? Cain peeked into every unlocked room to give the floors and ceilings a cursory glance to scout for immediate hazards. There were no critical threats, and he knew that the rooms with the proverbial closet skeletons were all already locked. Nothing to worry about right now. She could do the exploring and staking a claim to a room herself. After all, her file had said she wasn't a runner; theoretically, he could leave her unattended from time to time.
INDENT After verifying the probable safety of the second floor structures (furniture was another story), Cain returned to the kitchen. It seemed Bella had just finished, and was now scooping for herself some sort of soup. He was unaccustomed to the aroma of food among the stale smell of the house; normally, if anything, it was a generic smoky, burnt odor. It was different and he wasn't sure if he was alarmed by the change or relieved. He slunk over to the stove to investigate once she had relocated to the table. As he peeked into the pot - cautiously, as if something inside would jump out at him with gnashing teeth - the slave's voice floated over to his ears.
INDENT "Yeah," was his monosyllabic response, provided only after her third utterance. Cain had been more interested in the soup, having fetched a bowl and located a ladle almost erroneously stashed underneath a pile of pot lids while she was talking/eating. Once he had dished out some of the soup and was on his way over to the table, her master seemed to be able to focus more on conversation than the wonder that was edible substance. "Guess my brother's stuff might fit you." A pause. "Af'er this, you can wash up, an' I can bring y'somethin' to wear when I find it. Ain't gonna' be the nicest things fer' a woman, but i's all I got fer now."
INDENT After eating he would show her to the bathroom - hopefully she didn't mind baths because a tub was all he had - and while she bathed, he would raid his brother's room for clothes left behind. Cain's twin was just a hair shorter but he was wide and bottom-heavy not unlike a girl. He liked to wear comfortable clothes like cargo pants, turtlenecks, and unflattering sweaters lovingly knitted by their mother. It would be a crime of fashion to make a woman wear them, but it was a taste worthy of getting dirty from some serious housework. And when he would deliver the clothes, that's when he would tell her she could spend the rest of the day getting accustomed to the house. Changing his tune from his earlier push to have her start cleaning, he decided it was probably best not to lay too much on her at once; from experience, he could say that people generally could not digest large chunks of information as adeptly as he could. After the final pieces of information and instruction in the bathroom, that should be it.
INDENT Then he could disappear back into the depths of the house and only have to see her at meal times.
INDENT Then it was back to figuring out what to do about that.
INDENT After committing to himself the scheme he had cooked up in his mind, Cain finally lifted a spoonful of the soup to his mouth. The flavor was probably just enough to the average person, but for him it was reduced to the slightest hint of salt. While it was a very handy perceptual quirk when it came to the "comestibles" his mother presented to him, the act of consuming was far less enjoyable for him than others. Ah, the price of having such a powerful talent, right? More than just his sense of taste, other basic senses were taxed accordingly(something that greatly hindered his assimilation into human primary school), all seemingly to balance out his ability to pry into the minds of others. While the many years had taught him to suppress what would otherwise be overwhelming, he still overall deemed such an ability and its associated handicaps more of a curse than even remotely positive. While the soup's light taste and the faint aroma were unable to be fully appreciated, the texture was certainly interesting. It wasn't crusty or gritty and it had a nice visual appeal, and for he deemed it enjoyable.
INDENT Beatrice, so far, hadn't disappointed him... yet.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 2:31 am
⊰ The monosyllabic response she got after asking Cain to try the soup was enough for Beatrice. In all honestly Bella hadn't thought to check under any pot lids or in any spot that was rather left of field for the soup ladle, and a mental note was made to check the least obvious spots for certain items. Surely it wouldn't take her long to organise the kitchen, and the thought of finding surprise items where they weren't meant to be was even rather exciting. The prospect of wearing men's clothing once worn by Cain's brother didn't bother the woman in the slightest; larger sized clothing was easier to modify to fit, not to mention all the cleaning she had to do it would better to wear pre-loved clothes and save her nice ones for... Well, something nice. Watching the male intently as he finally went to taste the soup, Beatrice wasn't sure what she was expecting. Given his face didn't change from the marvellous poker face he had going on, the woman began to assume he didn't like it at all. Feeling a little disheartened that he didn't say a word, good or bad, it helped that he at least kept eating it. Obviously it passed whatever test he had in his mind for the food, and with a small grin to herself, Bella stood up and put her bowl in the sink, and checked the pot to see how much soup remained. There was enough for maybe three more small bowlfuls, so finding the right size lid for the pot, Bella poked around the kitchen a bit more until Cain was finished.
Snapping to attention once Cain had finished his bowl, Beatrice nodded when he indicated he was going to show her to the bathroom. Grabbing her bag off the table she scurried after Cain, silently following him through the sad looking house to the bathroom. The bathroom was considerably better than she expected, probably because it was a room that would get the most use in a house, and it had a rather quaint vintage feel to it. The lack of shower didn't bother her - a bath meant relaxing and that did not bother her in the slightest. Looking around with a grin, she nodded gently when Cain excused himself with the mention of raiding his brother's old stash. "It could take me a while to wash off all this grime, so don't rush on my behalf please. Even if they're dumped on the floor outside the door that's good enough for me." Reaching out a hand - her plan had been to gently touch Cain on the upper arm in a kind way - a frown crossed her face as he blatantly ignored her. Touch was her way of getting used to people, so it would be hard for her to get familiar with him if he didn't like it. Not dwelling on it too much, given it was early days, Beatrice went and turned the taps on to run herself a bath, shutting the door quietly. Unlike the kitchen sink, the bathroom taps seemed better behaved and it didn't take her too long to hot water flowing from the tap into the tub. Happy with everything so far, the next goal was to find some soaps or anything to clean herself with, hopefully things that smelled nice too. Finding scented soaps, moisturisers, and some very nice perfumes, the fallen angel concluded that although Eve was a few cards short of a full deck, she still knew how to take good care of herself. Making sure multiple times that the door locked, stayed locked and wouldn't suddenly come open, Bella allowed herself to relax and finally remove the grime from the warehouse, and took full advantage of the scented soaps she'd found.
Hair clean, skin creamy white, Beatrice felt as close to her old self as possible. Drying her hair as much as possible with a towel, she pulled it up into a messy twist bun to keep it out the way while it finished drying, but left her fringe down. Now her dark locks were clean, the deep black colour it had was much more evident, and she was sure the silvery shimmer it had would show itself once she got a chance to step into some sunlight. Sighing softly as she slipped her feet into the flats provided, a new outfit from her bag was pulled free; velvet black pants and a striped, loose-fitting tee were much more comfortable than the skirt and blouse she'd had on before. It seemed like whoever packed the bag in the first place was at least somewhat intelligent, for there were two smaller drawstring bags hidden down the bottom underneath the clothing. One of the bags contained an assortment of clean undergarments that ranged from nice but practical, to more intimate and lacy which made her quickly shut the bag again. The second bag contained a surprise in the form of a simple selection of make up - lipsticks, eye-shadows and the like - a hair brush, a large handful of hair ties of various sizes and a packet of bobby pins. There was even a few extra female items that made her let out a short laugh in surprise: obviously a worker at the Hotel had packed this bag and had most likely been of the female persuasion. Taking the make up out, the foundation came in handy to hide the still-fading bruise from sight, and to "doll up" her eyes a little bit - her eyes were her favourite part about herself, especially since they were the window to one's soul. With food in her stomach and clean skin, the woman put all her discarded clothes back into the bag, tidied up the bathroom and unlocked the door, feeling much fresher and chipper than she did a short while ago. Hovering in the doorway before stepping slowly out into the hallway, Beatrice decided that waiting for Cain to appear with some clothing was the best option, and she hovered awkwardly by the door. The chance that Eve would appear first was quite high, and she mentally began to prepare herself for that scenario.
|| o.o.c;; oh look I slipped in the first sign of Bella's touchy nature, heh||
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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu May 19, 2016 5:25 pm
Wearing black twill jeans, ankle boots, black tee :: Stats 5'5" - 114lbs
██████████████████████████████████████████████
xxxxxxxxxxCAIN
INDENT INDENT The scene unfolded uneventfully, as he expected. Finish eating, show her the bathroom, parts ways, then go on a quest for clothes. Quest, though, couldn't have been more of an overstatement; his brother's room was just as he left it years ago, and so were his clothes. Cain burrowed his way through his sibling's forgotten possessions. There was little more than sweaters and cargo pants, as expected, stubbornly creased from all their time in storage. He picked out the least offensive designs and some assorted light-weight shirts that had only ever been worn an under layer for the many sweaters. With his haul in a folded stack, Cain headed down the hall to the bathroom. He nudged the door with a shoulder and was surprised to find it locked. Didn't she need clothes after the bath? Or did she already have just enough to change into, and these were for later? She did say that he could just deposit them on the floor, but he had assumed that was just... The floor wasn't exactly clean, and she really wanted him to just dump clean clothes outside the door? Cain looked down the hall in each direction and thought for a long minute before deciding to follow her suggestion. Hopefully Eve didn't decide to sweep the halls or neither of them would probably find the clothes ever again.
INDENT Accepting that girls just take forever to wash up and get themselves situated, Cain decided to update the family vegetable patriarch on the situation. He started heading to the other end of the second floor hall, to the lesser used wing of the house. At the end of this wing, much like its mirrored sibling, was a master bedroom. Unlike its duplicate room, this one was kept unlocked, and it was inhabited. He slipped inside and quietly closed the door behind himself. In the bed was a humanoid shape of great size; in his prime, his very stature would have been intimidating, but his current state was anything but. The man in the bed was wrinkled, sunken, and of obviously failing health. Angular, beak-like lips were dry and cracked. Loose skin and flesh pooled at the sides of his torso, giving him a portly body with gangly, gnarled limbs. Coupled with the bald dome, thin, wrinkled neck, and almost greenish complexion, the man almost resembled a turtle. The elder would appear to even the keenest of observers to be deceased, but he was actually very much alive... unfortunately for him. Grandson sat beside his grandfather's bed, in his usual spot: a worn out armchair. One hand gripped the armrest, whose upholstery had worn thin over the years, while the other reached for old Grandpa Genwu's hand. Upon contact, he was privy to the man's thoughts, current sensations (none of which were pleasant, to say it lightly, but at such proximity could not be filtered out), and memories - if he cared to sift through them, which he did not.
INDENT She's here. Cain communicated to the bedridden one. He had kept the man abreast of all the latest going-ons, from the idea's conception to the candidate selection to the purchase. Grandpa Genwu may now be about as capable as an old turnip, but he was the foundation of their family system; it felt right to confer with him on monumental household events or, sometimes, confide in the mute man as a personal diary. Pretty little thing. A short glimpse of her, a memory of her silently eating her first meal in days, was shared. She seems like she'll serve her purpose well enough to justify her price. I've yet to really see how she handles mother, but I don't have any doubts yet. She'll cook and clean and babysit. That's it. And if things go south, I know what must be done. I'm hoping not.... she was expensive.
INDENT The old man expressed his approval. After all, it was only natural that the powerful make use of the powerless. Their family had power, was his firm statement. Accordingly, everyone else was weak. It was about time they got some extra hands for their American estate, as well.
INDENT ...You know, I tried cutting off the head again. I'll check on it later.
INDENT The elder only gave a cryptic I see.
INDENT I'm running out of ideas.
INDENT The proverbial salt in the wound response: I'm counting on you.
INDENT They both sat in silence after that - silence both of words and of thought. He didn't want to think about it any more, his responsibility, the unspeakable things he had done, the people depending on him, the job that needed to be finished. If not for the fact that the invalid beside him had no means of communicating to anyone else, Cain would have no other outlet. At the moment he wanted to focus on something else. Anything else. And what better distraction than the sensations he was denied by birth? (The greatest distraction, discovered during his teen years, had yet to be replaced by anything better.) By sharing the pain, he could feel the other's body crying for sustenance, crying for years without an answer. After all, with paralysis as severe as it had become, anything ingested would doubtlessly be aspirated; hunger was a more bearable sensation than perpetual drowning - not that his respiratory system was getting much done anyway. He focused on the feeling of a dry mouth, dry eyes, dry everything. This sensation, too, was also more tolerable than the humiliation of being attended to with pitiful palliative care. The pain of an invading body, a curse with a physical form, was nestled deep in his viscera, by his spine, eating him from the inside out at the same rate that he could regenerate. All of these were sensory overload, filling every far corner of Cain's mind and robbing him of linear, logical thought. Some people used exercise, some people used debauchery, and some people used drugs to distract from their misery; Cain used the suffering of others. He became lost in thought and feelings and sensations, oblivious to time and the world around him.
N o i r Wafflesaurus I always hate hate hated this post because it seemed so out of place and irrelevant. Hopefully this revised version actually makes some kind of point and adds relevance.
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2016 9:16 pm
⊰ It wasn't until Beatrice finally left the doorway that she noticed the clothes left for her on the less than dust-free floor. Physically tripping over the small pile, the banished angel did a comical twist on the spot to use the wall as a landing point - which thankfully took her slight weight. Looking down at the now less than neat pile of clothes that were left, her eyes scanned the hallway for any sign of Cain. Finding none, the woman shrugged and picked up the clothes to look them over. The cargo pants weren't too bad, not the most flattering but at least they looked comfortable which was good. The sweaters made her most curious, and inspecting each one for moth holes and other signs of constant wear, she deemed them soft and comfortable, and in quite good condition. If she could talk Cain into going into town to get her some slim-fit jeans, or even leather-look pants as a reward for good behaviour, the sweaters would actually pass for fashionable. Well, at least to those insufferable 'hipsters', and maybe to vintage pickers. Still, where would she run into those kinds way out here? The lightweight t-shirts though would need some dire altering though, and keeping a note in her mind to ask Cain for a sewing kit, she folded up all the "new" clothes and shoved them into her bag. Cain wasn't about, so did that mean she got to explore? 'He did tell you to go find a room and clean it up after all.' It was all the permission she felt she needed to go wandering around the estate, so she set off.
Walking down the hall, head held high, the sleeping wing was soon found relatively easily, and an empty bedroom to boot. The door took a bit of effort to open fully, and it became quite obvious that the guest room probably hadn't been used in quite the while. The layers of dust on everything in the room answered that question, and with a sneeze brought on by disturbed dust from the door, she looked around the old fashioned room. Claiming this room as her own, especially with it's intact roof and two intact windows, she carefully placed her bag on the bed and went about her first cleaning duty - dusting her room. With much force, the windows protesting loudly as they opened for the first time in what she presumed to be years, and the rush of fresh air seemed to lift the mood of the room considerably. Bed sheets carefully removed from the bed in case bugs had made their home in the layers, they were shaken good and hard outside the windows before being folded up and placed to the side on a very old dressing table. Thick cobwebs hung off every dark corner of the bed, now visible after the sheets had been removed, and taking out one of the less than favourable t-shirts she'd been given, Bella tore it along it's seams to make some dusting rags. She'd need to go hunting for some polish later, but this would do for now. Hesitating once she actually got around to having to put her hand near the sticky cobwebs, the woman frowned. This wasn't going to be fun, what if some of the web's owners were still hanging around? There was an unused wardrobe in the corner of the room, would that have something she could use? Much to her joy, there was a few old wire coat hangers, and much to her disgust, a lot of dead moths, spiders, other bugs... A whole array of signs that the room had been out of use for a good number of years.
With weapon hanging dirty in her hand - a wire coat hanger bent into shape with the rag wrapped around it, Beatrice stood in triumph in the middle of her new room. It took longer than she thought, thanks to a few trips back and forth from the bathroom to rinse the cloth clean, but at the same time, it didn't take too long at all. The bed was cobweb, bug and dust free, the linens had been shaken and beaten out the window to clear off the dust, and even the corners of the room were clean again. Sure the room still looked like it hadn't been touched in years thanks to the colour scheme, fading of wallpaper and darkening of the carpet, but at least it looked livable now. With a cringe, the angel quickly cleaned out the wardrobe of it's cobwebs and deceased inhabitants into the thoroughly wrecked t-shirt, and checked out the musty interior. It wasn't as perfect as it had been when bought, but it was good enough, and hanging up everything on the handful of old wire hangers, the woman felt proud of herself. One room clean, how many more left? Pausing to hear for any sounds like her name being called, or for anyone coming to the room, she sighed a little sadly. Bella really didn't want to be alone so soon, but she wasn't going to protest it. Her main worry was mishandling Eve since she wasn't totally with it. The female didn't want to say the wrong thing to upset the woman or freak her out. 'Stick with simple things, let her lead the conversation.You're a neighbour and you met Cain while out for a stroll one day. Lying may be wrong, but you don't want to disrupt her illusion. If you believe you're a neighbour girl, then she will believe too.' Sighing sadly, she had to believe this ruse would work, for the tomato-haired woman's sake, and for her own safety. Stashing the cleaning rag in the dressing table, Bella made her exit from her now 'clean' room, half-shutting the door behind her.
Stopping at the bottom of the grand staircases, her eyes glanced about to try and find one of the house's other occupants, Bella made her way to the first room she could remember seeing - the lounge room. Not expecting much from the room, the sight upon entering still made Beatrice feel quite sad; the furniture covers caked with dust, a piano that although was dusty still seemed to be the cleanest article in the room, and the bookcase filled with unloved books. For such a grand house, it was heartbreaking that it had fallen into a state of disrepair thanks to the lack of help about. Sighing gently, Bella wasn't game enough to start cleaning this room quite yet, since she'd probably need to put on those extra clothes that Cain had gotten, and she feared she wouldn't remember where everything belonged if she got too overwhelmed. Instead, the woman began to check out the books in the shelf, which turned out to be interesting history books. Turning through some of the yellowed pages gingerly, after taking out her fourth or fifth book, something fluttered to the ground. Picking up the square item, it was a polaroid, a rather old one at that. Beatrice didn't recognise anyone in the group photo, and out of respect, placed it on a shelf of the bookcase, putting the book back where it belonged. Wandering over to the piano, she lifted the lid which groaned slightly like any good key lid should, and running her fingers over the ivory white keys, she made naught of a sound. The woman didn't want to risk summoning Eve and worrying the poor woman, so putting the lid down, she exhaled gently. This room, this would be her focus for the next few days. It was a room that was meant to be clean and homey, so the female wanted to bring it back to life in a sense. There was just something about the house that made her want to clean it, to brighten it up and show off just how grand it really could be. While Beatrice could somewhat pinpoint her desire to clean and make the house gleam again - it had something to do with her past and wanting to help - she couldn't quite figure out why she wanted to do it so desperately. It wasn't because Cain had bought her to be a housemaid, in any sense it should have dulled her desire to clean, so the woman could only figure it had to do with Eve. If she was stuck in a different time period in her mind, it was only fair the house looked as close to how she remembered it. If only Bella had realised just how much of the world would suddenly open up after stumbling upon the polaroid picture, she might have left it in a more obvious position.
[[ outfit ]]
`MaliceMizer ooc: oh it does, it really does. nice work <333 i got a bit lazy and didn't edit much of this one... just not feeling so good
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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2017 5:25 pm
INDENT Eve found herself staring into the depths of a closet in one of the house's many bedrooms. What was she doing there, again? Looking for something? Looking for what? Oh, what time was it, anyway? She glanced out the window to the sky; goodness, it was past noon already! The man of the house was due soon, and things needed to be in order! Of course she had already spent the morning cleaning and picking up after the kids like usual (all while maintaining her carefully applied makeup, styled hair, and heeled shoes, as any good housewife should). Cooking dinner was the next activity so off she went to the kitchen. Her destination was at first the sink, but the sight of a pot already on the stove stopped her in her tracks. How did that get there? She peeked inside and, to her surprise, found soup. Well that was delightful! She must have forgotten about making it earlier or something, for there was no other explanation. It was only her and the kids in the house, and they certainly did not cook. So that concluded those matters, then. What else should she do now? Ah, perhaps there was laundry ready to wash. Eve headed back into the foyer with intentions to go upstairs and collect things that needed to be washed, but something unusual caught her eye on the way. The door to the living room was open! Normally it was kept closed to discourage the kids from romping around in there (with two boys, their messes went wherever they were). An open door meant there was an intruder; she would have to scold the young culprit when caught unless they had an excellent reason!
INDENTThe woman hiked up her skirts and bustled over with an expression that clearly communicated her resolve to scold the trespasser. Eve was surprised when, instead of a naughty child, there was a young woman standing before the book shelves. She had never seen this girl before and she was dressed very strangely. Instead of something classic this girl wore trousers, slippers, and some sort of thin jersey knit shirt. Was this comfortable, androgynous look some new trend? She hoped she wouldn't be forced to convert to it any time down the road.... Long skirts and button-up, lacy, pintucked blouses were more her style. Eve called out with a degree of cautiousness, "Ah, excuse me! May I help you, dear?"
INDENTThe sweet poor girl looked like a deer in the headlights when she was called out like that! A touch suspicious, really, to anyone but Eve. The girl's expression quickly became a more pleasant one as she explained her reasons for being there. She was a neighbor girl flagged down by little Cain. The plausibility of such an explanation was not questioned; Eve's mind was distracted by something else. It was just one word young Bella had uttered that so snagged her attention. All she could do was focus on dislodging herself from that stubborn thorn labelled college. That word conjured up some half-developed snippet of memory. Someone dear to her, something about college... but who...? The change in the other female's tone inevitably pulled her from her thoughts. Eve's eyes refocused onto Bella and her polite smile gained genuine warmth.
INDENT"Oh, now now, no need to apologize... I think I frightened you just as much! So, Bellatrix dear, I notice your clothes are very... modern! Stripes have a very structured naval appeal - you know, those strong young Navy seamen - perfect for someone full of youth and energy like yourself." Eve tugged at a gather in the material of her skirt. "I suppose I just can't keep up with contemporary fashion. If you feel underdressed, though, I may have some nice blouses for you to borrow... Perhaps I'm a little bigger than you, but I never go anywhere fancy so I'd rather they see some use than just sitting in my wardrobe."
INDENTHow wonderful to be in the company of another woman--even though she was just a neighbor girl, a new friend of her son. Ah! Eve found a little smile grace her lips once more at the thought of her loner son having warmed up to someone but the gentle expression was short lived. She looked surprised to notice something she had never noticed since entering the room: the shelves were dusty! Eve moseyed past Beatrice to run fingers over the wood of the shelves. It came up in a solid cake of brown-grey grossness, revealing stains on the wood from the years of neglect. Surprised, Eve uttered to herself, "It's so dusty! When was the last time I cleaned in here?!"
INDENTShe gathered the dust cake into the palm of her hand and compressed it there. Spying a stray photo on the shelf, cleaner than its surroundings, she used her free fingers to pluck it up. It was taken at one of their annual year's-end parties! There were the boys when they were young, Eve, her husband, her father-in-law, and some fellow powerful figures back in the day. There were even more people in the background (those were large parties for sure!), but they were either too dark, too blurry, or too obscured to be identified. What good memories those parties were... Every year, her son would perform for the guests. Oh, he was always a hit! Little Cain was such a good child. He would sing and play piano in perfect harmony, but eventually over the years Cain became less interested in music and it was someone else performing all alone. Then Cain started fighting with his father, and...
INDENTThe gloomy feeling the woman had begun to radiate dissolved quickly as Eve smiled widely and turned to Beatrice. She pointed to the photo and proudly explained, "For the longest time, our family would have a party at the end of every year. Our family would invite my husband's work friends, see? Here's me when I was younger - a little thinner and dressed nicer, but I think I still look the same." She also had large, full avian wings back then, too. Though the photo was only in sepia, it was apparent that they had some variety of colors and patterns, unlike the stumps she now had. "And there's my husband over there with his work friends. Here's my father-in-law before he got sick. He was such a tall, imposing man! Oh, and here's little Cain when he was a boy. Look at that pout! He didn't like those parties because I made him dress up." Beside little Cain was another boy, quite alike him, but smiling sweetly. So familiar yet she couldn't recall the name. Who was that little boy with Cain? She brushed a finger across its dingy surface. Then, the name hit her like a epiphany from above. "And that's Abel, his twin! He, he always enjoyed it, the dress clothes. He liked showing off his piano skills every year and all the praise he received afterwards from his grandfather. Yes. After Cain lost interest in playing and singing, Abel kept at it."
Green finch and linnet bird,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Nightingale, blackbird,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Teach me how to sing.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
If I cannot fly,
Let me sing.
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