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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,622 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:31 PM Post #286 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun May 25, 2008 8:45 am Malcus Barbattus, Titrus, and Neeria Malcus and Neeria reached the storage doors just as Titrus entered the barracks. The lieutenant saluted Barbattus and eyed the woad girl suspiciously. "Titrus, Excellent timing. Outfit this young..." Malcus' eyes scanned Neeria's frame up and down, "...woman...in some leggings and leathers, a cowl and tunic and boots. We're riding out very soon. Tell them to charge the clothes to Commander Castus," the captain said. "I must fetch some things from my quarters and change gear, myself. I will return shortly." "Oy, captain," Titrus replied as Malcus rushed past him. Titrus grabbed the woad's shoulder and led her to the room. The warden on duty made Titrus sign a ledger, then unlocked the large store room. Titrus and Neeria walked inside the facility and looked on the long rows of uniforms, leathers, leggings, tunics...all the military clothing that supplied Badon Keep, both Roman and Sarmatian. Titrus had no idea where to begin. "Where can I find clothes and boots to fit this scrap of a girl?" Titrus asked the warden of the store. The old crusty warden looked at Neeria through squinted eyes. His years of experience would be able to pick out clothes that fit her, on his first attempt. "Ain't much is she?" he asked with a smirk. Neeria glared at the old buzzard but didn't reply. Titrus chuckled and gave the old man the list of clothes Malcus had requested. While the old man was gone, Neeria looked at Titrus. "How is Eala? Where is she?" "Eala? That is her name? She is back at the....cell," Titrus replied, careful not to say the word 'dungeon'. "She has been given food and will be cared for," he said. Before Neeria could respond, the warden returned with the clothes. "This ought to do it," he said and shoved the clothes at Neeria. "She's small, but so are some of the boys when they first start training. They may be a little big but not too much." "Very well," Titrus said. "The charge is on Commander Castus' account per his orders." The old man raised his eyebrows but didn't argue. He figured anyone dumb enough to lie on the commander would get his in the end anyway. What did he care? "Oy," the warden said with tilt of his head and swung the big heavy doors of the store closed again and replaced the large lock. "You can put on yer things on over there," he said pointing to a curtain that hung as a makeshift fitting room. Neeria gathered her cloak and blanket and scuffled over to the curtain where Titrus handed her the clothes. After only a few moments, the woman came out, fully clothed. Much to her chagrin, the clothes felt good - warm and dry. The boots were too big for her small feet and the cowl and tunic sleeves hung past her wrists, but overall, the clothes fit her well. She would at least be able to ride in them. She only wished that she'd been able to bathe first. At least to wash her dirty face. Titrus was speaking with the warden of stores when Malcus returned, having changed out his official uniform and into his combat riding gear. Again, his dark eyes roamed over Neeria, up and down. The woad woman shifted uncomfortably under his stare. "Very well. Titrus," Malcus said, turning his attention back to his lieutenant, "the rotation is yours. You know what to do in my stead. Don't take any shit from anyone or else they'll answer to ME upon my return. Tell them the punishment for insubordination is swift and just." The captain's fine features darkened at the thought. "God speed, captain," Titrus said with a salute. "Oy, Titrus," Malcus responded, slapping Titrus on the back. "Let's go, woman," Barbattus said and led Neeria out of the barracks. Neeria's short legs worked double time to keep up with the long-legged captain's stride as they made their way toward the stables. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:31 PM Post #287 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Sun May 25, 2008 9:25 am Bors
Bors continued to study his friend's worn countenance, his tired blue eyes steady and pinched with fatigue. His leg throbbed, and he wanted Vanora to be here, soothing away his fevered, ridiculous thoughts with her cool hand on his brow. Thoughts of her turned his mind to his children. He was never sure just how many of them there were at any given moment, but he knew he loved them all beyond life itself. He knew he wanted to take them all back to Sarmatia one day, to his homeland, their homeland. Vanora too of course. "We keep going because we must," he replied simply, sighing heavily and struggling to turn more onto his side. "We keep going because of all the people who rely on us to protect them - the women and children, even the poxy Romans. Someone's gotta watch their fat arses for 'em." He huffed out a forced laugh, then grew serious once more, frowning at the tall figure beside him in the next bed. "You ok?" he asked gruffly. "Really? You gonna be alright?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:33 PM Post #288 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun May 25, 2008 9:29 am Linnette
"Oh...thanks." It took Linnette a moment to realize that Vanora was handing her the handkerchief- her focus had been up on the juncture between the ceiling and wall over the door while Vanora was chatting about wanting to pay Adian, presumably to give Linnette some time to compose herself- but now that she saw the small, white cloth held out, she took it and wiped at her nose and eyes, crumpling it in her hand when she had finished. "I...I don't think I should spend too much time talking...there's so much to do." Linnette gave Vanora a rueful smile, or a good try at one, and gestured towards the ledger again, then once more sat back in her chair with a sigh, her focus once more up to the ceiling, because it was easier than looking at Vanora. The words, describing the rest of the reason for her busy-ness came without even her conscious thought, flowing autmatically. "They...they want me to move out of our room, too." Linnette sniffed back a threatening tear and dabbed at her eyes again. "The Optio says they need it for soldiers." Her voice got softer as the lump in her throat formed again- but she swallowed it, determined not to let another crying jag interfere with taking care of these accounts now. If finished this, she wouldn't have to worry about it again till late tomorrow- which could only be a load off her mind. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:35 PM Post #289 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun May 25, 2008 9:40 am Arthur The Commander had been satisfied with Neeria’s reaction and response to his consent to her terms. He was also confident that she would lead his officers to Merlin as promised. The foolish girl had no idea the depths of Arthur’s wrath once he would learn of her betrayal on that oath. He had also been mildly surprised by the girl’s gesture of respect towards him with her little bow of reverence….only yesterday she had attempted to kill him for God’s sake. But with His intervention, their roles had been reversed and in Arthur’s opinion a person would typically do anything to save their own life. And then Malcus had escorted the Woad out of the room, the door clicked shut and Arthur audibly sighed; shoulders slightly slumped and eyes tightly closed. He reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose and attempted to gather his thoughts….one person remained with Arthur in his quarters….Lancelot. Arthur then heard the familiar sounds of Lancelot’s slender leather clad frame sliding down into one of his chairs. The Commander knew that he must reprimand his knight for the man’s behavior earlier towards the Optio, a superior officer. However, Arthur only wished to hear…..
Lancelot was addressing him with an intimate familiarity that had the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck instantly on end. ‘Artos’ had been a childhood family name for the Roman that Arthur had shared with Lancelot long ago…and the Sarmatian had only used the name in moments…Arthur blinked open his weary green eyes and shoved the memories aside. That part of their ‘relationship’ had ended. The Commander paused before turning to face Lancelot. He deeply exhaled and reached up to rub sword calloused fingers over the back of his neck. “What have you to shout about, hm?” Arthur began in a low tone as he finally turned to look at his lieutenant. Both men were obviously exhausted and rest would be required before either could endure a round of fierce argument between them again. But Arthur wanted something from Lancelot before he would rest….and he also expected the return of the Optio at any moment. “Lancelot, you must not show your anger to Scipio,” Arthur began to explain as he padded his way over to the chair opposite Lancelot and practically collapsed into the thing before continuing. He kept a hand pressed over his stitches as the damn wound twinged in pain again. “You risk your own life by showing aggression towards a Roman officer,” Arthur reminded, albeit gently, Lancelot of the consequences if he should physically challenge Scipio…or more to the point: successfully injure the other man. Arthur would give his own life to save Lancelot’s, but even that would be difficult to arrange should Lancelot leave Scipio alive to bring charges against him. And right now, Arthur needed to focus on halting further attacks from Merlin….he needed Lancelot to mind his temper, or at the very least leave no witnesses to any crimes. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:36 PM Post #290 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sun May 25, 2008 10:46 am Vanora
Vanora gave a smile back knowing what the young woman meant, but the tavern had held up just fine in her absence. Vanora reached out a gentle hand nad rested it on Linnette's arm, 'There is always time to talk, Linnette...especially times like this...The work can wait for a bit.' The red head meant it, too. She watched Linnette bring her eyes up to the ceiling to compose herself. Oh, What she had to be feeling right now! What if Bors had died and left her with all of her children? Vanora looked down at the books again, then back to Linnette. She wanted to make sure that Thorn was no longer on the payroll list. Vanora asked, "By the way, Thorn, Adian's wife to be, died in this attack...so I'll need to take her off payroll..." For a moment, her voice caught recalling how the woman had died. It had been both horrible and heroic. Vanora wondered how Adian was fairing as he had left the tavern in a mixed bag of emotions....no telling what he'd do. Vanora canted her gaze back to Linnette as she spoke, her voice trembling...
Well! If that didn't beat all! Vanora felt herself begin to fume under her calm exterior, 'Move out?! But there are lots of rooms for the soldiers, or so I thought. How thoughtless of the...the...Does Arthur know? Surely if you go and talk to him, he'd tell you different..." Vanora had never heard of such a thing as throwing a widow from the quarters she shared with her husband. The woman wondered where Linnette would go? To be turned out of her home by an Optio? Vanora knew Arthur's good heart and wondered just how the Roman was going to handle this.... 'Linnette, why don't you take the rest of the day off and get things squared away. I will make sure you are compensated for the time off,' Vanora's brown eyes were full of sincerity. Linnette had to get her housing situation taken care of, and then get some rest if she could.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:37 PM Post #291 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun May 25, 2008 12:09 pm Linnette
"No...no, I really have to do this, and it won't take long." Linnette cast another resigned look down at the ledgers and scraps of paper on the desk in front of her. If she didn't do them herself, Arthur might find out and try to take care of them for her...a mortifyingly embarrassing solution, in Linnette's opinion, and one which she wasn't even willing to risk voicing to Vanora. She picked up her quill and with another sigh printed "Thorn" on the corner of one of the scraps- so she wouldn't forget to make that note in the ledger. Just like that, another person lost to the endless fighting- and a woman, in this case, not even a man who expected to have to fight. Why had Linnette even stayed here at all, once the Villa was retaken? If she had just stayed home, she wouldn't be going through all this, would never have seen all this sorrow- but then again, she would never have married Gedeon either, and known the all-too-brief happiness that they had had together. "They need the room because the barracks was badly damaged, apparently," she contined, now sitting forward in the chair and leaning forward to study the papers, her eyes downcast. She picked up one slip of paper and shifted it over to the other side of another one, then adjusted the positions of a couple more, to no real purpose, but it felt silly to be sitting there doing nothing. "And Arthur knows. I'm pretty sure." She glanced up at Vanora with a resigned shrug. He must know, or if he did not, he must trust Amadeus to see to affairs in his place, surely. In any case, she wasn't going to go complaining. Her pride wouldn't bear that, either. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:39 PM Post #292 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun May 25, 2008 1:39 pm Kolya
Hmm- a better man may have been insulted by that. Kolya could shrug it off though, water from a ducks back to him these petty words spoken in anger. She lifted her chin in defiance and the Sarmatian just smiled, amused and intrigued by her unspoken insistence that she wanted him to leave her alone. She didn't respond to his touch but nor did she withdraw anymore. It was a weakness that the former knight was willing to expose however he might. Narrowed blue eyes looked about Alina's face close to his and Kolya smirked though there was little humour in his expression. He shrugged one large shoulder and cleared his throat. "You'd like me to say you." he stated matter-of-factly. He searched her face, finding truth in what he said. And something stirred inside of him uncomfortably. A conscience? Perhaps... Kolya's arms stiffened, their strength awkward about her waist now as he slid one hand down, allowing her to turn out of his embrace if she wanted to. He didn't like that question. Didn't like having to think about it because ... well, what did he care about? Pursing his lips as he shrugged again, the Sarmatian brushed a wet finger across Alina's cheek and followed it with his thumb, brushing it backwards against her lower lip tantalisingly. "But you wouldn't believe me if I did tell you. Because you, Alina, want to see me as everything he isn't. No cares. No responsibilities. No scruples." Kolya told her, grinning as he lowered his face so that his lips were close to hers, his eyes looking about her face as a knowing smile lit his face. "I'm right, aren't I?" Romanus
It was perfect! Meant to be! Romanus' smile was doltish as he lifted his hand to look at the finger upon which the band sat. He flexed the digit down and up again, nodding his head in satisfaction. The jeweller's generous gifting of the ring to him made Romanus' eyes bug out of his head and he stared in wide-eyed surprise at the other man. "R... really?!" he squeeked, grinning from ear to ear now, puffing up his chest a little as he looked at the ring on his finger again, delighted. How could such a generous man be anything but good? Romanus was oblivious to the suggestive offer that Cael made, giving him a wry smile and nodding his head as if he had understood precisely what had been said. He even winked. Mention of going inside the gates was met with a hiss of uncertainty as Romanus looked upwards and then over towards the distant trees, the grey mist of rain obscuring his vision. He shrugged in his cloak and ran his thumb over the band of his new ring on the inside, the rain slicking the metal. Romanus turned his gentle brown eyes back to Cael and a grin broke out on his face as he stepped aside. "Ah of course Sir. Mere protocol you understand right? I'll be sure to ask around for you if I ever get off of this wall too." the Irishman said, stepping back inside the doorway at the gate. A moment later one side of the gates creaked open. Romanus stood inside with a welcoming smile, waiting for Gabriel to come inside before ordering the gate shut. "Now - keep well out of trouble, Mr Gabriel. Should anyone question your presence within the walls, I am called Romanus." the male said, nodding his head in satisfaction of a job well done. Saoirse It wasn't that Saoirse didn't care about Dagonet, oh no. It was quite the opposite. She cared so much that it physically hurt her inside to know how much pain he must be in. She was mortified because she had taken away his daughter and she was not sure she could face people commiserating him on the death of his son knowing that she denied him his daughter. Saoirse couldn't help imagine the difference it would have made to the Knight if he had come home to his toddler daughter who would surely be attempting to crawl by now...
The red-head's eyes snapped towards the man sharply. She was a bit ... baffled by his words, her blue eyes puzzled and her lips parted in bewilderment. He had not even hesitated on those words and yet ... who was he?! Who was he that he came looking for her, knowing her name and then calling her gorgeous? The Irish-woman's expression was simple and easy to read - 'you are weird'.
He had very gentle eyes, understanding eyes. Saoirse didn't know if she liked them or not - she always found it hard to read dark eyes and that disturbed her. She liked to be able to see what someone was thinking through their eyes but this man's eyes were ... well, gentle. They were soft and honest and he had to have been hiding something surely.. ? The correction to his original claim was met with a snort of wry amusement from Saoirse. She cocked her head to the side a little looking at him quizzically, puzzling him out or at least attempting to. Failing that, Saoirse gave another huff of amusement. When she went to rise, Saoirse was stopped in mid-stoop by Lucius' hand on her wrist. She gave a protesting whimper, very mild for her character, and looked at him pleadingly, almost in terror over what he would tell her. His gentle, honest eyes were intent on hers which, she knew, were filling with treacherous tears. Saoirse held her breath, becoming impatient in the mere seconds it took the man to figure out his thoughts and answer her panicky questions.
Knowing that it was Dagonet made Saoirse angry that his grip tightened. She grit her teeth, pulling her arm back uselessly before giving him a baleful glare, warning him to release her before she bit him. Her posture settled marginally when he told her there was nothing wrong, that Dagonet was ok. One salty tear escaped down her cheek but she brushed it away quickly, awkwardly slumping back onto the ground next to him, a slight hiss of pain as the wound on her hip gave a protesting tug. Saoirse felt ... awful. She felt awful because she was relieved that she didn't have to go out and face Dagonet right now because it was not an emergency. She wanted to be there when he woke but from the sounds of things he was awake and knew she had not been tehre the whole time. It would be embarrassing to tell him that she had needed some time to completely fall apart without feeling selfish, without letting him see how bloody weak she really was. The red head sniffed, tipping her head back against the wall and shrugged her shoulders upwards, holding them there as she held her breath, steadying her frayed nerves. When she released the breath, Saoirse pulled her hand from Lucius' gently but meaningfully. She rubbed her fingers against where he had held her, blue eyes staring upwards at the ceiling as if it held a secret that she had to puzzle out. "I need a while longer t'gather me senses. When I look a li'l less terrible - " she whispered with a meaningful glare at him, her dry lips trembling as she spoke, her eyes scrunching up and her face twisting in silent emotional agony and guilt. "He'd only blame himself if he saw me like this. Why's he insist on callin' me back t'him? I swear he's tryin' t'destroy his sanity by keepin' me in his bed..." she murmured, shaking her head and lifting one very shaky hand to her fiery locks, pushing them back off of her damp face. She turned a suspicious eye to Lucius from beneath the arch made by her hand - "Who're you anyways? How'd ye know Dagonet? Or Derfel fer tha' matter?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:43 PM Post #293 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Sun May 25, 2008 6:05 pm Lancelot The weary knight stared across at his ... friend, commander, and other things Lancelot chose not to put name to at this moment.
The fact that Arthur was still pressing his hand into his stitches did not escape Lancelot's gaze. He sighed and rested his chin in his hand, his eyes narrowing as the other man spoke. In his heart, Lancelot knew Arthur was right about his actions - but damn it, the Optio was a snake in the grass - could Arthur not see it? The Sarmatian would not lie down like a whore and take it for all the world to see from that bird-nosed fuck. Find another whore. His thin, veiny lids slid closed briefly over Lancelot's dark, sore and red rimmed eyes. When he opened them, he forced himself to look at Arthur, really look at him - to see the wound and the exhaustion and the dissapating control there. There was also something else - disappointment? - in those green eyes that fired Lancelot's temper once again. "I have plenty to shout about, Commander. The fact that you're sending someone besides me to see Merlin for one. The fact that you let that girl live, for two. And the fact that you haven't seen properly to your own health, for three. I may not be Rome's officially sanctioned 'Optio,' but I can see what is right before my eyes." His voice was clipped and hurt, and Lancelot stood, pacing restlessly in front of the Roman. "I know I was - not exactly smart in my actions toward Scipio. But Arthur," Lancelot's mouth was thin and sharp, as sharp as the words that poured from his lips. "He is not to be trusted. I can feel it. Here." He struck his breast, hard, over his heart. Arthur's borrowed tunic slipped over one of his shoulders, and the Sarmatian angrily yanked it back up. He crossed to the table, and poured out a small amount of wine mixed with water for Arthur, and approached the other man. He knelt and handed the mug to the commander. "You must promise me, if I promise you that I will hold my tongue, to care for yourself. Gods forfend you'd leave Darya alone." He laughed bitterly, and then looked away from the green eyes that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He snorted a breath and found his hands were trembling. Clenching his filthy fingers into fists, he rose and remained standing at Arthur's side. "When the Optio has left here, you will rest. Promise it. Swear it to me, friend." Lancelot swayed slightly, but caught himself quickly by placing one hand over the edge of Arthur's chair. His gaze burned into Arthur's face, and he swore he could hear his own heartbeat, thudding loudly, as to wake the dead he did not save in the last battle. He could have been one of those. I could have been responsible for his death. He could have... "No," Lancelot bit off, not realizing he was speaking aloud. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:45 PM Post #294 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sun May 25, 2008 6:41 pm Mother Lavinia
Admittedly some of the wind had been taken out of Lavinia’s sails when the soldier who had vexed her so, apologized. She also gave him a little credit for being willing to leave the infirmary rather than hanging around eating their food, and shirking his duty. On the other hand he had seemed almost too willing to leave, eager to escape even. And other than a quick look, he hadn’t given his sad-faced ‘best friend’ much of a parting word or fond farewell.
Lavinia tried to soften her naturally stern expression. She was only doing this for the girl’s own good, after all, and didn’t intend to intimidate her. “You won’t like what I have to say, Miss, but someone has to say it,” the nun began, not exactly achieving the helpful tone she had hoped to set. “Getting involved with that soldier will break your heart. He’s already made you cry, and left you rather abruptly just now. My judgment is still out on whether he’s a decent sort or not. I did believe him to be a cad, but he may have redeeming qualities.” The nun spoke quickly. She looked directly at the young woman, but wasn’t concerned with her reaction. This wasn’t a conversation so much as a lecture. “It doesn’t matter, however, if that man is the nicest fellow on earth. He’s still a soldier,” Lavinia continued. “Let me tell you what happens to soldiers here at Badon. They either get killed, or they get transferred to some other outpost and get killed there. If you let yourself fall in love with one of them, you will end up alone and broken hearted.” Lavinia’s voice had become more emphatic as she went on. To someone who did not know the old woman, it might even be thought that she was speaking from her own long ago past experience. But to anyone who was familiar with the unpleasant nun, such an idea would seem preposterous. She sucked in her breath and went on. “Aren’t there any nice young merchants or carpenters or farmers for you to give your affections to instead of a soldier?” she asked the girl. It wasn’t a question she expected to get a satisfactory answer to, but it couldn’t hurt to plant the idea in the girl’s mind. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:46 PM Post #295 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sun May 25, 2008 8:49 pm Cáel
Cáel gave the lad a mirthless crooked smile and nodded assertively. The ring was just a single trinket, a mere trifle, after all. He had many other pieces to sell, and as for his money, it was safely tucked away in secret back at Eburacum. Sufficient funds had never been lacking, especially not now that he possessed Gabriel's share of money as well. And soon, he'd be swimming in profit from selling his ex-lover's estranged family. Cáel was a walking contradiction really - superficially generous and selfless, but the core of him was truly greedy.
Cáel had swiveled up into Betelgeuse's saddle again, preparing to enter Badon once permitted, even as the soldier still debated with himself. A flash of uncertainty crossed the young man's face, but it was effortlessly squashed by his ignorance not a moment later. A smile etched into the corners of the Goth's mouth - although it did not touch his eyes. Betelgeuse snorted, padding a front hoove against the ground anxiously beneath him, as the gate moaned open. "I will not forget," Cáel promised, a mischievous glint in his eyes again for just a moment. He nodded in farewell to Romanus before urging his steed through the gate. Home sweet home. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:46 PM Post #296 |
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Author: Ranchera Date: Sun May 25, 2008 9:20 pm Connell Connell looked about him, blending in as easily as he always had. His hand came to his face a moment. He was so plain he'd blend into a wall with no trouble. His nerves were a bit raw, admittedly. Though he was slightly jumpy at the presence of so many Roman guards he reminded himself that he was a familiar at the fort and he ought to look like he had business there. Just as well as anyone else does. He lingered over a stall of baskets, picking up one and examining the other, trying to be casual. He chided himself a moment, considering that he’d rather abandoned Guinevere and that other one without a word. No, not abandoned. It’s better we part. He couldn’t be seen with Guinevere—he was sure any association between the both of them would be disastrous to the Cause. As for Mona, she was nothing but trouble and would surely draw attention to herself like flies on horse manure. He picked up another basket and set it down again. He glanced over his shoulder. A knight here, a woman holding an infant over there, perfectly ordinary people. He made his way to a stall of leather goods, listening for any useful information as to where a captive might be taken, as well as the local gossip. Of course the easiest means to catch up on the current events would be at the neighborhood watering hole. Once he'd examined the rest of the marketplace, Connell would make his way to the tavern. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:47 PM Post #297 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sun May 25, 2008 9:59 pm Alina
Her bravado was failing - miserably - and Kolya could see that. He could see her. Her features were more fathomable than before, more readable - her expressions altogether a chaotic mess as they flashed across her pretty face in strange intervals. She started looking away alot more now, unable to meet his gaze for long, yet her jaw remained set in stony defiance. She shook her head at his first accusation. Such a confession would've been idle, never meaning as much as she thought it should, even if it were true. What she really wanted was for him to just act like he gave a damn about something. That something she would never anticipate to be her. She was still idly shaking her head to herself as he continued, then stared up at him with uncomprehending eyes. His arm unwound from her waist, and if Alina hadn't preceded the action by locking her legs into place, she would've probably unconsciously lurched forward into his embrace again. Instead she raised a hand to rub her arm soothingly beneath her cloak and recoiled a step as this new revelation hung above her head in foreboding hindrance. He flashed one of his infamous knowing smiles, and that only beat down Alina's confidence that much more. She blew out a disbelieving chuckle and shrugged her shoulders meekly. For once Alina was thankful for Britain's dreary weather - the rain cooled the flush of upset red to her cheeks and masked the frustrated tears that threatened to fall. "So, what do you want? A round of applause?" she retorted unintelligably under her breath, her face down and shoulders slumped. For a moment, she appeared utterly defeated, but finally, the woman managed to hold her head high. She took another step away from him, seemingly having made a decision for herself. "I don't want you," Alina said then, her tone bland. Her eyes were dead - void from emotion - and although her body subtly shuddered, Alina vowed it was from the cold and not regret. No good could come of this. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:49 PM Post #298 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Mon May 26, 2008 9:53 am Tatiana
Tatiana listened attentively and quietly to the lecture/conversation that the old nun was giving her like a mother would give a daughter and once she finished, Tati replied to her. "He had something that he needed to get done once he was feeling well enough to be allowed to leave here. I know that he's a soldier and they lead dangerous lives, but he's a friend and he really didn't mean to make me cry, it just happened that was just the end result of what he told me when he was laying on the cot. "There were a bunch of farmers back home, but none of them were that interesting, since none of them really caught my eye in that way. If there are, I've either not met any here or none of them caught my eye, besides isn't a merchant's life as dangerous as a soldier's anyway? With all of the travelling that they have to do" Tatiana replied curiously. "I really appreciate your advice, Ma'am, but I think that I'll stay on my chosen course with the soldier." She replied nodding polietly to the old nun. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:50 PM Post #299 |
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Author: Darya Date: Mon May 26, 2008 10:00 am Darya …and finally her little walking-tour had indeed led Darya to the tavern. Well, she was hungry…there was no way to deny that. Perhaps that was what had brought her here in the first place. By now, the Sarmatian was chilled to the bone by the rain…and any warm building was welcome. Thus she climbed up the steps, pushed the door open and entered the tavern… For a moment, she just stood by the door and scanned the room. She did not see Vanora…but noticed Drake having lunch at one of the tables. Only now did the dark-haired realize that it had been him standing by the door to Arthur’s room, near Linnette, earlier. She had to admit that she had not really recognized him with all the other people entering and leaving the Commander’s room at that point. So when he was here, did that mean Linnette was around, too? Slowly pushing the hood of her cloak back, Darya once more scanned her surrounding…and was somewhat glad to not spot the moody redhead. Instead there were some other familiar faces around but the dark Sarmatian longed for a warm soup…and something equally warm to drink. Darya moved to her favourite table in a shadowy corner of the tavern and waved at one of the serving maids to place her order. It did not take long for her meal to be served: a nice smelling soup and a herbal tea. The dark-haired thanked the serving maid and paid for the order… Then she sighed quietly and almost hesitantly dipped the spoon into the hot fluid in order to fill her empty stomach… |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 04:53 PM Post #300 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Mon May 26, 2008 11:43 am Catherine Funny, that is why she had thought he asked her name. Catherine remained still, sensing through whatever gift the gods had given her to understand people as she did, that Tristan wanted her to remain still. The blonde presumed, from observing him in the past, the he was not the affectionate kind. He would, in the very basest sense of the words, fuck her. There would be no love lost here. There would be no pining, longing or anything of the sort. Catherine idly wondered if he would even kiss her. Such things filled her mind as the Scout's bristly moustache brushed against the soft skin of her neck. He did not caress her though - he clutched her thighs with sure, thin hands, hauling her tight against him so that she could feel the urgency of his desire. Again, not a word nor sound as the Knight lifted his hands to tug the laces of her bodice open. He was perfunctory that was for certain! His touch sent familiar waves of, what Catherine called, potential pleasure through her. Sometimes when a man touched her she felt pleasure, other times she felt nothing but revulsion. At times like this she felt that, given a little more attention his touch would turn to pleasure. But Tristan was not interested in her pleasure and Catherine did not begrudge him his attitude one bit. She was not being paid to teach a man how to make a woman feel pleasure. Not this time at least. And something told Catherine that, if he wanted to, he could have her screaming his name at the top of her lungs whether she wished to or not. All depending on whether he wished to. His attitude to sex deciphered, Catherine allowed her body to be easily pushed around and up against the door. She let a sigh pass her lips when his hands encircled her waist. Such gestures as groping her breasts and stroking her thighs were all too familiar to Catherine. It was the smaller gestures, the ones that hinted of intimacy and nothing carnal that pleased her. Like the caress about her waist - but it was short lived as his hands descended lower whilst his teeth nipped the top of her breast. Catherine gasped, her back arching automatically. She tilted her head down to look at his mussed up hair so dark against her pale skin. His fingers were between her legs before she had a chance to realise he had had hitched her skirt! The blonde's lips parted and she tilted her hips towards his touch, hitching up one leg. But she did not wrap it about his waist, instead she turned it the opposite direction, flattening the bent limb against the door. Her two hands were on his shoulders but one slid upwards to his neck, feeling the wiry tendons and muscles throb there as he moved. A barely audible moan sighed from her slightly parted lips. It was not wanton but simply a reaction to his touch. He had struck just the right place and had set the fire in her middle to blazing. The potential pleasure was beginning to burn. Hazy green eyes looked up at Tristan's face, her expression unfathomable. Catherine did not feel for the men who used her body. She did not hate nor adore them. She did not disregard them either. She saw everyone of them for what they were. This man was a soldier who risked his life. A slave who was forced into the service of an Empire he, no doubt, despised. He was a scout who could sense the presence of a human or beast before setting eyes upon it. He was a lonely man who, despite everything, craved the tender touch of a woman. Catherine's white teeth were revealed as she bit her bottom lip and tentatively spread her fingers against Tristan's neck, stroking her thumb on the underside of his bearded jaw. Galahad He was distressed, not strained. He was trying to pretend he hadn't just seen what he knew he had seen so it was coming out in waves of invisible, but perceptible, tension from his lithe body. The muscle beneath his left eye was a bit ... twitchy. Galahad liked to think that he was as unreadable as ... Tristan was. Truth was, he was as easily read as a book. When he was displeased it revealed itself readily on his boyish face. When he was upset, as now, it was all too evident in the color of his almost aqua eyes.
The youngest Knight gave a guffaw of surprise as his cloak was grabbed and he was hauled in under the eaves of a doorway to keep him out of the rain. He had his hand latched onto Gawain's wrist immediately and his troubled face turned rather petulant, disgruntled as he pushed Gawain's hand away, not spitefully, but almost childishly. "Dag? What are you talking about? Or what?" the knight murmured, straightening his cloak and giving Gawain a querying look before shaking his head and shrugging his shoulder, looking out to the side with a pensive look to his face. "I've not even been to see Dagonet yet. And nothing's wrong, alright? I was just bored and thought I'd.. ya know ... catch up." he said with a pout, not meeting Gawain's eyes now. An even bigger indication of his troubled mind. Hesitantly, Galahad cast his blue eyes to Gawain and looked away quickly, chewing the isnide of his cheek. He could trust Gawain, he knew he could, but Galahad didn't want to admit that he had just seen his woman in some other man's arms. He didn't want to bloody admit it to himself for the love of the gods! So he kept his mouth shut, lips twitching as he chewed, eyes darting to and fro as if he was watching the rain as the rain swept it across the landscape. Mari For a moment MAri thought the man was going to go and leave her sat in the puddle. But her bad thoughts were ill-founded as the man came storming to her rescue! The brunette gave an embarrassed titter and licked her mucky bottom lip, turning to sit in the puddle and look up at him with an adorable look upon her wet, dirty face. Her naturally curly hair was almost black with wet and muck, her brown eyes looking vibrant against the dull tone of brown from the ground that was plastered about her pale skin. The man stood above her. Mari was oblivious to the fact that he looked down his nose at her at all. She smiled up at him greatfully and reached out for his offered hand, (not seeing it was but one mere finger of assistance he was willing to dole out). It was not a huge hand, not like Milan's, but it was large nonetheless. She wrapped her fingers around it and then clapped her other hand to the back of the hand, attempting to lift herself out of the muck. But his footing was not as sure as either of them had thought and when Mari had gotten to her feet and slipped again, she ended up slipping forwards and sideways, causing Ash to slip too. The both of them ended up on the ground, Mari laying across the man's legs giggling like a loon and Ash upon his back. The young woman tried to clamber out of his way, crawling on her knees, they parted on the slippy muck and she slid down again, ending up clasping Ash's thigh with one hand, the other against her mouth as she stifled mad laughter. "Oh my goodness this is more complicated than I had thought!!" she declared over the thump of raindrops against their not wet clothes. She looked over at the man, ignorant to his displeasure, her eyes squinted due to the rain - "I am so sorry for pulling you in! Maybe we can figure a way out together huh?" Mari laughed, lifting her hand to wipe the back of her wrist against her forehead, pushing the wet, mucky strands out of her face. The sad bandage on her wounded hand looked bloody awful, no longer tight against her palm but hanging loose and almost to the point of falling off completely, making Mari look utterly pathetic and woefully clumsy. "Ok - if you stay there I might be able to ... crawl over you to ... " she gestured towards a piece of ground that didn't look slick with mud the way this part was - though it would involve crawling, literally, over Ash's entire body from toe to top. |
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