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| October 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 1 2010, 05:17 PM (3,207 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 09:51 PM Post #211 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu Oct 23, 2008 8:43 pm Ione As she slept, her hand moved slowly over the blankets. Cold. There was silence about her. Ione stirred, moving into a different position, her hand moving to rest on her stomach. The pain that had been so previlent earlier was fading now which she was thankful for. Everything had moved so fast almost like a bad dream, though the memory of what happened stayed. She had wanted a child so badly, and now it was taken from her...why? She did not know, nor did she understand. Linnesse, Sister Margaret, Quintus, and Titrus had been strong for her. Mirtha had left the room angry as always. Why had he been there? He smelled of drink and had not been strong support. Ione stirred again as these thoughts began to drift into her mind. How her body had betrayed her when he 'took' her in the stables...how she had acted out what she thought he wanted to see and hear, but there hand been no love or passion in the act. He had been stone drunk, and after he had allowed her to leave, Ione could hear the rattling of bottles in the loft. He had gotten angry at the news that she was pregnant... No, he did not care for her nor she him. Everything that she had told him was a lie and he had lied as well...in such a stupor induced by drink that he would not even remember what he had done. All he wanted was a one night stand. In her mind, Ione made a vow that he'd not touch her again. Not ever. Her hand absently rubbed over her stomach as she continued to sleep, though a bit restlessly now. All of the worries she had carried about took the form of a wild and confused nightmare...Mirtha's face taking the place of the Roman who her parents had sold her to....the laughs as they beat her...leaving her for dead.... Ione had dealt with the memory while with Accolan finding out that he had been the one who had saved her life. That memory would be buried with him. Her eyes fluttered, and she found herself alone in the room, and recalled that Linnesse had gone out to see to other patients, and then she had drifted off only to be awakened by the Lieutenant. His visit had lifted her spirits and had made her smile...but then, Titrus could always make her smile. It had been the most they had visited in a while as both of their jobs did not always allow for long visits, so she enjoyed the visits when they happened. It had been a wonderful warm surprise....though his news had set her to worrying about him as she did all of the knights and Arthur, if he was going. Ione's dark eyes roved about the room. She still felt a bit worn out, but perhaps it was that she had not eaten in quite a while....except for the soup she had eaten the night before. Everything after she had gotten back to her shop was a blur, though she had recalled her cat, Llawen, meowing loudly... The weaver tried to move herself into a more slanted sleeping position, with her upper body slightly elevated. It felt more comfortable like this, slowly, her eyes drifted shut, and she went back to sleep with her hand over her stomach as it seemed to try to ease the dull ache that was there that was fading. Ione thought that perhaps she'd be able to got back to her shop soon where she felt more relaxed, but she wanted to make sure that nothing else was going to happen before she did. As she eased her thoughts, and sleep took her, Ione's other hand came to rest next to her cheek where Titrus had placed a soft chaste kiss, her head turned slightly. This time there was peace in the sleep that came. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 09:57 PM Post #212 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 12:28 pm Saoirse Saoirse almost regretted mentioning it all when Dagonet ceased chewing and turned his grey-green eyes on her. She ducked her head sheepishly and frowned menacingly at the bread in her hand, pressing a chunk of it tightly between her thumb and finger. It was not exactly in her nature to be the sympathetic type, to be able to conjured the patience to treat someone who was in pain and who was not someone she directly cared for. What if she disliked a patient? It was no secret that the red-head had a temper - how would that translate to treating the ill? It was stupid, and she was just about to tell Dagonet so when he smiled...Saoirse's blue eyes were pensive, her lips set in a tight line as she awaited his response.
Dagonet squeezed her hand to alleviate the embarrassment he read in her eyes. She huffed out a breath and lifted one shoulder in mute response to his question. Then she puffed out her cheeks again, frowned down at Dagonet's huge hand about hers - "Well I read the books tha' are in the back rooms here. The makin' of ointments and poultices's quite interestin' but I'm not sure 'bout bein' the one t'administer them. I'd as soon lop off an arm than treat it if someone was t'annoy me." she added with a short laugh, shaking her head. Then she cleared her throat and waved a hand dismissively, as if wiping the conversation from the ethers altogether. "S'just somethin' I thought of takin' up instead of mercenary work ye know?" Saoirse said by way of explanation, cautiously looking up at herlover through the thick veil of her eyelashes, wondering if this thought would please or displease her lover. And she didn't know which reaction she wuold prefer. He had fallen in love with the mule-headed warrior woman and now she was talking about changing that warrior woman into something else. Would that be favourable to him? Would he prefer she kept on fighting for a living? Mari Mari didn't understand what she saw in Linnette when the woman took a deep breath. There was a flicker through her hazel eyes that was also something unintelligible to Mari who had never lost a man she loved to a war she did not believe in. Her fingers curled about the images held against her chest as Linnette composed herself and she kept a silent tongue to allow the woman the time she needed.
The younger woman brightened with this statement for she had not viewed her education to be a distraction. But the way Linnette said it made it sound like a great idea, a worthwhile plan to give them both that which they wanted the most right now. Mari - an education, and Linnette - distraction from her loss. Linnette's lips twitched in a smile and Mari responded with a smile of her own, a gentle thing, childish almost as she scrunched up her shoulders in severe gratitude.
The paper that Linnette offered her was the best quality paper Mari had ever set eyes on, let alone used to scrawl her doodles. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, her stomach a pained knot as she realised just what this meant for the woman. her wide brown eyes lifted a moment and Mari nodded, stepping forward and reaching a tentative hand out to touch the whitened sheets. She nodded again, greedily taking up the 'practice' papers and running her thumb over them. She had too many sheets in her grasp and apologetically placed a few back. "No - no ink. I'll use this pencil and charcoal for the drawing. Ink just smudges on me." Mari admitted quietly, feeling overwhelmed with the generosity that Linnette showed. Oh it was for her own endeavour, granted, but Mari knew already that she could use the 'practice' sheets over and over if she was careful enough - and it was so very hard to get paper, especially paper as good as that which Linnette gave her. Taking a deep breath, Mari half turned and placed her old scraps on the edge of the table as she took a closer look at the practice paper. "How big should it be do you think? Do you want it large enough for a hanging or for a small picture frame? This paper is really very, very good. It's very kind of you to trust me to do this Lady Linnette. I've never really had any ... purpose being here. I just started rebuilding my mother's old cottage just outside the fortress walls and Milan is so very good to me, and now you are asking me to do this precious thing for you. I feel very greatful for all of it." Mari said quietly as she folded her largest piece of scrap in two and placed all the smaller ones inside that 'folder', she then gathered the practice sheets to her chest with the scraps behind them. Biting her bottom lip, she gestured to the white sheets hesitantly... "I might .. wait to take them. I wuoldn't like them to ... fall.." she added sheepishly, recalling the amount of times she had dropped the sheafs she held now. Amadeus Amadeus left Mordred feeling confident the Lord would have much to keep him both amused and occuppied whilst he went to ride out with Arthur. It was easy to put aside the embarrassments that he had been forced to endure under Castus knowing that, in a mere few days that he would be ousting the Commander and replacing his weak command with a Scipio Command - a dominating command, a command that saw the Carthaginians quake in times gone by! Returning to his room, the Optio dressed himself in sensible woollen leggings, bound tight to his well-formed legs with strips of leather. A long tunic reached just above his knees and over this Amadeus donned a soft leather surcoat, emblazoned with his family crest on the front. This was belted about the waist with his sword-belt and completed with the red-cloak of office. He strode down the corridor towards the courtyard and from there he went across to the stables. As he went he saw the inept Captain Barbattus speaking with an unmentionably beautiful blonde woman. Amadeus sneered and strode with more purpose towards the stables. A number of people were hanging about there - Amadeus was about to dismiss them all as lowly beings beneath his notice but in amongst them he noticed Arthur's little pet. His whore, no doubt, but for propriety he would only call her his pet. Sharp features softened deceptively. Amadeus' pace slowed as he neared the group, giving a bemused breath of amusement at the hawk on the woman's arm. He gave a brief scan of the woman next to her and dismissed her as a nobody before perusing the rest of the gathering. Soldiers and a knight or two. "Good morning." he announced to no-one in particular, coming to stand amongst them as if he were one of their number and not their senior in rank. "Everything is prepared for the Commander's riding out I presume?" he asked with mock cheer, slapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly, smiling at the people gathered. It was easy to smile when you knew the future would see you as their Lord and master. The near future... Eala Eala hadn't heard anyone's approach. Ash went to stand and the little blonde saw the pain in his face as he did so. But she couldn't stop him from doing that as he brushed his hand against her cheeks. She flinched at first but then realised, with a trickle of cold against her skin, that he was dispersing the tears that she had shed earlier. Puffing out her chest to make up for her earlier weakness, the child looked up as Merlin and Nolan approached. She missed what the two men had said to Ash initially but glanced up at her protector in time to catch some of his reply.
The child gave an empathic nod of her head at this, glancing over to where Merlin did to look at Juna. "... nah." she confirmed the name of the woman, allowing those present to know that she understood of who they spoke, and her serious expression coupled with her serious nod showed that she agreed with what they said also.
She had to strain to follow what their aging leader said, her eyes narrowed and she inadvertently stepped forward, to peer up closer to his face as he spoke. Even so, Eala only understood bits - but from what she could understand she felt proud. The gods, something about the gods. Merlin was complimenting them on their success in getting out of the fortress and not succumbing the way Neeria had into treachery or Mona, into madness. When Merlin addressed her personally, Eala perked up, her black eyes brightening a little. Keep an eye on Ash... She gave a grin, nodded her head and looked up at Ash to make sure he had heard Merlin properly, that she had to keep an eye on him. It suited her shattered confidence to be declared in charge of something like this again. It seemed an entire different lifetime to have found Eala bouncing about up in the trees, racing on ahead of the others in an effort to prove herself. Ah soon enough she would be back up there. But until they got back to the village she would have to remain on the ground to keep an eye on Ash. Merlin had told her to. She missed the beginnings of Nolan's speech to Merlin, and so could not pick up the thread of it as she watched the other man drop his head in deference. Eala frowned at this display, unsure as to what it was that Nolan was meant to have done to have him looking so chided. The small girl reached for the little knife at her thigh, touching it through the thick material of the tunic she wore. Catherine One of the men was coming towards her. Catherine smirked and turned her head, looking down at her pretty hands on the table top as she listened to the thud of boots coming towards her. She recalled to her mind all that she had heard said about this man, Captain Barbattus. He enjoyed the company of women, but Catherine seemed to recall one or two of the other whores at Badon complain of him and his temper. One or two of her patrons had been on the receiving end of that too. He was unmarried, ranked highly, a friend to Arthur... The final thud of his boot as he approached her saw Catherine turn a dazzlingly pretty smile upwards at the Captain. She had a hint of a pout about her lips, a hint of 'catch me if you can' to her eyes. She would not try his temper, no, but Catherine thought to prolong this man's enjoyment of her by allowing him to chase her a little before bedding her.
He took her hand and kissed the soft skin there. Catherine watched as his grubby fingers contrasted so darkly to her pale, clean skin - but it did not repulse her as it might if that dirt had been on her hands only. Not when she knew that he earned enough to add a nice clink to her savings at home. The blonde gave a small laugh at his compliment and deftly slid her hand from his, placing it within reach upon the table once more, her sparkling green eyes looking up at him above the charming smile of her lips. "Do you really think so?" she commented in a wistful tone, turning her sweet body towards the man, crossing her legs and trailing that strand of hair across her lips again as she looked up at him silhouetted by morning's grey sky. Smith
Smith's expression darkened as Kayley explained what had happened in greater detail. He lifted a hand to his jaw and rubbed at his stubbled skin gingerly, avoiding the bruise just underneath where he had been punched during the fight. His eyes were distant as the woman explained and he found himself giving a soft 'hmm' of encouragement for her to continue when she paused. She rounded up her unbiased assessment with a bitter opinion that the male had to agree with. "It was." he intoned, half turning his head towards his horse who was becoming restless. Scáth gave a snuff of impatience at his master's shoulder making Smith flinch and reach back a hand to touch the horse's nose, discouraging the beast to be so affectionate with him right now. Smith's intense, dark eyes never stopped their curious scanning of those around them until Kayley addressed his question about Micah. His dark expression began to lighten and he was grinning in no time, feeling both deviant and unfairly judged by Micah as Kayley explained --
Smith gave a snort, not unlike his horse's in fact, and stood up straighter, firmer and more handsome than before, making a point of pulling back his shoulders as much as he could without antagonising the injury at his collarbones. He liftd his chin and stepped one step forward, appearing to tower over Kayley in a dominating fashion non-chalantly, still scanning the crowd but paying close attention to Micah. He was joking of course - and was repaid for the ill-joke by a stinging clap to his cheek.
It was soft but it startled him. Smith's eyes blinked quickly and he pulled back a little, scoffing a laugh as he looked down at Kayley, grinning roguishly. "Of course I'll play nice. When do I not?" he said with a congenial lift to his eyebrows that made him look oh so innocent, and ever-more-attractive than normal, an angelic cast to a warrior's features. He snorted in amusement then and turned to Scáth. He gripped the horse's saddle top and swung up into it with as much ease as he could muster, favouring his left arm as most of the pain was to the right side of his body. Once atop the horse he reached down to take Kayley's extended forearm and deftly lifted her onto the saddle behind him. He half turned to her then, smiling down his nose at her as he lifted his hand to his cheek where she had slapped him. "And ouch. If that is the punishment that you deal out I can only imagine what it will be like if Micah gets me alone. Promise you won't leave my side, Kayley?" Smith affected a distressed tone then grinned, turning foward to urge Scáth forward slowly with a bare squeeze of his thighs, at the same time he reached back and slapped a hand firmly to the outside of Kayley's thigh - "Easy girl." he growled playfully. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:02 PM Post #213 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 1:46 pm Arthur Neeve had reluctantly agreed to what Arthur had requested, but the Commander knew the Briton was less than pleased. Yet, it was not Neeve’s silent communication that had resonated with Arthur’s conscience….he felt Lancelot’s rage building as his second positioned himself closer to Arthur.
“Very well,” Arthur confirmed with a slight tilt of his head in acknowledgement of their accord. But the others present would no longer hold their tongues on the matter….Lancelot was, of course, the first to voice it….
Arthur’s gaze met Lancelot’s; placid green eyes miraculously remained still despite being met with fiery amber orbs that threatened to scorch Arthur’s flesh. Lancelot’s swollen and ruddy eye visibly punctuating his angry words as he continued. The Roman was accustomed to Lancelot’s fury having been exposed to it countless times over their years together. Lancelot continued with Neeve readily echoing the First Knight’s apprehensions. Both voiced valid points of concern. The Commander reached up and scrubbed a hand over his stubbled chin and briefly dipped his head as if allowing their council for the moment. Arthur was no fool when it came to the potential treachery of Merlin’s people despite his continued efforts to make peace….he had trusted Guinevere and she had betrayed Arthur by setting several buildings within the fortress a blaze recently. And Arthur would never forget the condition he had found Lancelot in the last time he had had to retrieve his lieutenant from the Woad camp. But……the Roman still wanted for peace. And thus Arthur would continue to show mercy….and still hold onto hope.
Arthur had made his decision and would allow Neeria to walk out of this cell….but she would not be free to wander on her own within the walls of the outpost. But before the Commander could hand down his instruction…..
And with Tristan’s low and most decidedly threatening tone, the girl had seemed to finally have been sufficiently frightened. And despite being presumably weak and injured, Neeria was still quick. Arthur notably sighed as the tiny little thing screamed and sought shelter from the others by once again plastering herself to his chest. Neeria’s nimble little fingers dug into his cloak below the clasps of his armour and somehow managed to press on Arthur’s bandages – there unbeknownst to her. Arthur grimaced and reached down to pull her hand away from his left side. “Jesus….” Arthur half groaned while he gripped at Neeria’s hand. “…child…” Arthur was still quite sure that Neeria had meant him no harm….apparently she had radically changed her mind since the other day on the road when she’d clamored up on his horse and thrust a knife at his throat. And hadn’t the girl been crying for Tristan only hours previous to now? Women – a fickle gender to be sure. And although Tristan and Neeve were quick to react….Lancelot was even quicker…. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:10 PM Post #214 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 1:55 pm Cassidy & Fleur
Cassidy was too old to be rebuking anyone, even her little sister, with a flick of her tongue, but the show of petulance was just to mask her secret embarrassment at the time. Not to mention the last thing she was in the mood for was to argue with Fleur about what had happened with Catherine in front of an audience. Cassidy knew she had been in the wrong, and it wasn't in her to lie to herself nor to Fleur - especially because Fleur had an aptitude for knowing when she was right in an instance or situation. She was intelligent and much more observant than most children her age. Fleur noticed everything - and she always had an opinion, too. The older girl propped herself up on her elbow, palm resting against the side of her head as she glanced over her shoulder at Fleur with Drake, and Linnesse, arching a curious brow when the soldier seemed so dismissive of the healer. Not that she expected anything more of him, but she thought he'd be almost all too willing to fork over his extra-extremity-that-was-Fleur to the woman. Apparently she was still able to be surprised by something that he did. Impressed no - curious perhaps, not that she'd admit it even to herself. Fleur, even only having briefly observed Drake and Linnesse, had still somehow managed to gauge the myriad of emotions that had transpired between the two. Children were sensitive to people's energies, whether positive or negative - and the little girl seemed to frown in disapproval over what she felt at that moment. "Why do yous not like each other?" Fleur wondered aloud, glancing between Linnesse and Drake questioningly.
Cassidy didn't wait for them to address Fleur. She chimed in at Linnesse's words with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulder: "I have no idea who Ione is. The woman said her name was Catherine. She had blonde hair, if that helps..." the girl added, with a gesture to her own tendrils, and gave another nonchalant shrug. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:13 PM Post #215 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 2:07 pm Drake
They spoke almost at the same time. Drake cast a curious eye down to Fleur and cocked his eyebrow. It was almost a warning for her not to be too inquisitive on a topic that he really didn't want to get into with the children. Or with anyone. Why Linnesse disliked him was ... well, it was not best discussed in decent company. Her judgements of him and her perceptions of him were all wrong, as far as Drake was concerned, but he had no want to argue with her about it. Not now, and not ever if he could avoid it. It would upset Linnette. Flustered, Linnesse answered his question, obviously displeased to be speaking with him in such a fashion instead of chiding him, no doubt, but Drake reacted calmly to it nonetheless. He nodded his head, about to take on board this idea of 'Ione' when Cassidy piped in -
And suddenly the description fit. Drake had heard of this woman and if it were the one he was thinking of well... A slow grin curled his lips as he looked at Cassidy casually flaked out on the bed. He lifted his hand to pinch his upper lip before turning to Linnesse - He glanced down at her, unable to hide the amused light to his eyes. She was not a woman whose services he had taken before - she was far too ... delicate and primped for his taste in women, but she certainly was memorable to look at. And by the way some of the men he trained spoke of her... Drake cleared his throat and put a restraining hand on Fleur's shoulder to ensure she didn't lean in to hear what it was he said to Linnesse. Of course to ensure that only Linnesse heard it Drake had to lean down close to her, close enough to catch a hint of her scent. It was remarkable how unlike Linnette that scent was - not the perfumed soap that she used or anything like it, but the underlying scent that was a woman, and each woman smelled differently. The Spaniard's thoughts were brief on the topic and he looked at a point above Linnesse's head as he whispered - "She's a... " he stopped, tensed his jaw, oddly amused by this fact... "She's a ... wait a moment." he clipped off quietly and turned back to Fleur and Cassidy, leaving Linnesse a moment ponder what he knew as he regarded the girls. "A moment?" he asked of them, then turned to Linnesse,gesturing a few paces away from the bed where he might talk to her in quiet without Fleur overhearing and demanding to know what a 'whore' was. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:17 PM Post #216 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 6:17 pm Jols and Tatiana
"Yep, everything's ready." Jols replied with a nod as he double checked the girth of the saddle on Casti. Which was his way of making sure to avoid meeting Scipio's eyes with his. "Good morning to you too. So, who exactly are you? I don't think that I've ever seen you here before? I'm Tatiana" Tatiana said introducing herself to him while she tilted her head sideways slightly studying him with her eyes as if committing him to memory. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:24 PM Post #217 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 6:28 pm Lancelot ...and once more, Arthur said nothing when Lancelot voiced his opinion; even when he acquiesced to Arthur's role of command. The first knight closed the fingers of his once-broken hand, the knuckles popping loudly in the small cell. Fucking Ceinwyn. He'd kill her given half the chance...or this one might....
Lancelot canted angry eyes to the scout; the other man seemed more feral and out of control than he normally did, and that was saying something. Lancelot touched him with the point of his elbow, the hand at the end of that arm still holding on to his sword. He nudged Tristan, and opened his mouth to speak - have reason, man, not here - but the girl decided at that moment to switch tactics as it were and - shrieked in ... fear? as Tristan must have frightened her badly enough to force such an intense reaction. Women - Lancelot had seen this one fierce and dirty and wild only a few days previous, a blade held to Arthur's throat. And now she was clinging to him like a monkey -
Lancelot forgot Tristan, forgot Neeve, forgot even the broad, Roman presence that had caused this action in the Woad in the first place. He sprang forward, and caught the girl's arm that Arthur had just removed from his person. Lancelot's grip was tight and unwavering, and the hiss of steel rang through the room as he drew his single blade and held it strong and sure in his right hand. His face was inches from the Woad's, and he laughed once, short and sharp, as he realized they were both coated in grime and battered. His mood altered more quickly than you could say Sarmatian dog. "Little one," he bit off, his tone soft and sibilant, but the iron in his words did not brook argument. "Remind me again why I should allow you to touch my commander. I may be less than shit in the eyes of Rome, but you are even worse than that. Don't give me a reason to deprive you of your head." His tired and injured eyes narrowed, the darkness surrounding the bruised one giving his high cheekbones a strange purple cast. "Arthur is kind and too trusting. I am not so - and I will be the one in charge whilst he's away visiting your magician." He smiled, and it was ugly and wide. His lips cracked and he licked at them, the gesture appearing too much like he was ready and happy to devour the girl whole. "You are lucky to be given into such good care. Do not make me sorry I followed Arthur's instructions." His heart was thumping and the blood sang hard, directly under his overheated and tight skin. Lancelot could feel the throbbing of the vein in his temple; it seemed ready to burst through and coat them all in viscous fluid. Arthur, Arthur, Artos. You great, trusting, idiotic, righteous fool. My friend. My...gods help me. His jaw cracked, and he could feel Arthur behind him - the other man made an unintelligible sound - and from the cursing, Lancelot had a feeling the Woad girl had touched his wound or had ground the cuirass against it. Despite this, despite his anger and wish to sweep his blade through the air and end this torture once and for all - which torture? The girl, or him? - his eyes never left Neeria's, the expression on his dark and narrow face pulling and twisting at the bruises and cut on his cheek. The blood dripped a bit from the slice that Arthur had dabbed at earlier, but he ignored it. Let it slide down his face; let it coat him with its heat. He cared for nothing in this moment save getting this straightened out. Otherwise, there would be more things for Arthur to deal with than just one tiny enemy girl. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:29 PM Post #218 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 8:24 pm Quintus
"Aye, sir!" Quintus put in enthusiastically- the prospect of being bought a few ales would never disappoint him too much. And maybe he could get that curfew repealed, too...and the two twenty-four hour shifts. The Centurion's eyes followed the Captain as he walked away from the waiting group, until it became plain that the Captain was headed for the gorgeous blonde woman over by the tavern. Quintus kept watching out of the corner of his eye as Barbattus kissed her hand, and she responded prettily, but then he turned away, feeling a little touch of, well...it was jealousy, he supposed, and also a desire to give Barbattus his privacy. She was too delectable a creature for such as him to do anything but look, Quintus supposed. "You were lucky there. Keep that horse under control," Quintus muttered a bit grumpily to Brendyn, after sidling over to the soldier, leading his own horse by the reins. It was really a wonder Barbattus hadn't lashed out at him, too- after all, when the Captain's blood was up, it was up. Perhaps the prospect of wooing that blonde woman had brought it a bit down again, though- or back up in a different way. Quintus allowed himself a moment of idle lewd imagining at that- but then snapped himself straight up to attention as the Optio himself suddenly appeared in the midst of the group.
"Yes, Sir!" Quintus responded, tossing off a salute even though the Optio was a short distance away, closer to Jols, Darya, and the stable woman than he was to Quintus himself. The Optio looked in good spirits, which boded well- or maybe he was just glad that Barbattus, with whom he had clashed yesterday, would not be going along this time. This time they were with Arthur, and that, Quintus reckoned, gave them a greater chance of some success, though all things with the Woads were chancy. Tristan
And that changed everything. Suddenly something snapped, the world shifted beneath him, the splatters of blood cleared from his vision, and he was back in the real world again- the waking world, with Neeria before him, clinging to Arthur, and the Commander obviously- well, at least to Tristan's knowing eyes- causing him discomfort. And more than that- she was doing exactly as she had done when she had tried to kill him during the battle, except that now, Tristan was close enough to damn well do something about it. Lancelot was a split second ahead of him- but as the First Knight grabbed one of Neeria's arms and pulled backward, drawing his sword with the other hand, Tristan sprang to do likewise on the other side, gripping the Woad's other arm, so that they jointly hauled her off of their Commander- Lancelot, as usual, running his mouth irrepressably as he did so. Tristan was as usual grimly silent- but the bloodlust that had gripped him a moment ago was gone, dispelled by Arthur's soft exclamation. Now he was all business, his movements sleek and efficient, but emotionless. He was doing what needed to be done.
"Arthur, you can't just let her go," Tristan grunted, putting in his own gruff opinion as he held the Woad's arm. Surely Arthur saw that now- this one was dangerously unpredictable! If she had the run of the fort, between her and that Fiona they might as well open up the gates to Merlin! It could so easily be a disaster- and there was no need to risk it, no need at all. Just take her to the gates and turf her out- Arthur needn't even touch a hair of her head. Tristan was ready to drag her off himself to do just that, should Arthur so much as hint that that was his wish. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:32 PM Post #219 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 8:39 pm Titrus Titrus was antsy. He was ready to get moving and the waiting around was starting to get to him. The longer they stayed immobile, the more time he had to think about leaving his daughters. He wished the captain was riding with them, but that wasn't going to happen. Titrus looked at Malcus and chuckled. The captain could definitely hold himself together in a scrap.
"Thank you, sir," Titrus said and smiled. "Until we return then." Malcus nodded and walked away - toward Catherine. Titrus tried to make eye contact with her. He prayed she wouldn't mention their earlier...meeting...to the captain. She was a professional. Titrus could almost be sure that if she discussed her other clients, she at least wouldn't mention names - would she? Titrus hoped. Just then, the optio approached the group. He was finely dressed in proper Roman military attire, immaculate and alert. There was no doubt he was a handsome man with, what Titrus perceived to be, a certain mystique.
"Yes, sir!" Titrus said with Quintus in unison. Titrus saluted. "Good morning sir, everything is ready to go. We're just waiting for Commander Castus' arrival," Titrus added. "Shall I gather the men at the ready so that when Commander Castus arrives we can be on our way?" |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:33 PM Post #220 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 8:42 pm Merlin
"Nolan..." Merlin paused a moment, dropping his eyes and shaking his head in silent rejection of his second's offer for sacrifice. His people had had enough sacrifice these last few days- far too much, in fact. Now was the time for resting, for rebuilding, either- and in the spring they would come back the stronger, and never make truce with the Romans again. "The only sacrifice I ask of you is that you go and help bury our brothers in arms. I am safe and Mona is dead. That is enough." The Woad leader glanced down and noticed Eala peering up at him, her head tilted and her eyes fastened on his lips in concentration. She had stepped closer to him, probably to get a good look at his mouth, and he smiled down at her and lightly touched the top of her head, a gesture of reassurance and pride- and hope. She was young, she was a great warrior, and she lived. And there were others like her. The Woads were far from finished here- they would never stop fighting, not until they were truly free. "Go- do your duty to them," the Woad leader added, looking back up at Nolan solemnly, commandingly. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:34 PM Post #221 |
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Autho: LadyCastus Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 9:13 pm Karl Karl snickered as he watched Malcus walk over to the whore and kiss her hand. Leave it to the captain to treat a whore like a lady. Karl's opinion was that all women were whores at one time or another in their lives. They always fucked for something...money, food, clothes...something Karl tossed some more nuts into his mouth as he watched the blond, and chewed. She was a pretty one - not like the ones working in the tavern - fat or smelly. Karl might have to try her some time. That is if she could stand to take what he to offer. He had a girl that he favored because he could pay her enough to keep quiet and let him do to her what he wanted to. He looked at Catherine and clicked his teeth. She might not let him to do her what the other bitch did. The thought of her rebuffing him turned the tall Roman on. Fortunately, Karl's thoughts were interupted by the arrival of optio Scipio. Karl regarded him warily, thinking the optio looked prim and proper-like a trussed up Christmas goose. Karl hated authority and pretty much anyone who out-ranked him, of course with the exception of Captain Barbattus. Those in authority, in Karl's opinion, were snobby and looked down their noses thinking others were beneath them. However, Karl thought, they were the ones that were worthless. That's why Karl liked to steal from them.
"I'll be glad to get on with it," Karl muttered not loudly but audibly. The tall soldier placed one foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg over Brutus, sliding into the saddle and fitting the reins into his hands. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:36 PM Post #222 |
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Autho: golden_trillium Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 9:37 pm Linnette
"Oh- of course. You can start on those sheets and I'll give you the good ones whenever you're ready." Linnette agreed readily to Mari's suggestion- it seemed a sensible enough precaution- and reached over across the desk to take the good sheets back, stacking them together neatly before putting them back in the drawer. It was obscurely comforting to immerse herself in things right now- to fuss with the arrangement of things instead of having to think about larger matters. The size of the portrait was a suitably picky detail to think about, too... "Mmm...perhaps about...this big?" Linnette held up her hands before her, an illustratie distance apart, demonstrating a size about equal to both of her hands together- or a little more. "But really, as big or small as you feel comfortable with will be fine- I don't know anything at all about drawing," she confessed with a sheepish shrug as she stepped around the desk. "Just do what seems good to you." An encouraging smile to Mari, then, as she began to usher her back out the door. This time, she grabbed her cloak from the hook, though- and on a whim, backtracked a step to snatch the small book Drake had lent her from the desk as well. If they were about to ask as great favor of Dagonet as they were- well, she had promised to read to him, and what better time than as he sat for his sort-of-portrait? "Here- we'll take the back door," Linnette ushered Mari not toward the kitchen again, but this time out the back door in the stairwell, and down the side street lined with the storehouses that held all manner of goods for the fort- the ones that the Woads had rifled through at the first attack. The supply situation wasn't so critical now as it had been for a while, but they weren't quite up to full capacity yet. "So who's Milan?" Linnette asked curiously as she led the way with quick steps to the infirmary, more to make conversation than anything else- though she was certainly curious to know more about some of the various things that Mari's flying tongue had mentioned in passing. Linnesse
A blonde woman named Catherine? Linnesse didn't think she could shed any light on that- even if they had the name wrong somehow, Ione was dark-haired- and she shrugged a bit helplessly, looking from little girl to bigger girl to Drake- but the man, it seemed, recognized the name, in fact found it downright amusing- though he seemed strangely reluctant to say out loud what he was thinking. He leaned in closer to Linnesse, to whisper in her ear, and Linnesse, thinking of his stern expression when he had sent her scurrying last night, had to repress the urge to twitch nervously away. She managed it, though she still felt an uncomfortable squirm of her skin at his very near presence. It just...wasn't comfortable. Wasn't reassuring. It screamed "strange man", which was more than enough to set Linnesse's nerves on edge.
"Yes?" Admittedly curious, Linnesse followed Drake a few paces away from the girls' bed, though her whole body felt tense and umcomfortable with it. She was exasperated with herself, too- frustrated with the fact that she couldn't seem to just walk up to people and command them, the way her sister could. Linnette would never have been sidetracked, would have had Drake out of the infirmary a long time ago by now- except that Linnette was blind to this particular man's dangers, and it fell to Linnesse, who had never had her courage, to do as best she might here. "She's a what?" Linnesse demanded of Drake once they were out of immediate earshot of the girls, wanting to get past this pointless nonsense about "Catherine" and on to why she had spoken to Drake in the first place- even if she had no idea at all how to get there or what, exactly, she would say. |
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| golden_trillium | May 12 2010, 10:54 PM Post #223 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Oct 24, 2008 9:37 pm Brendyn As Brendyn wound the reins of his horse around the nearby post, he had heard Malcus's compliment on what a fine animal Tyranus was. Brendyn could not have agreed more, and slightly smiled. After such a fight, he had half expected Malcus to all off and shout at him for the antics of his horse, but something had calmed the Captain even as he had given Tyranus a bit of a treat. Brendyn gaze lifted to rest on the blonde in view of the stables. She did not interest him, but it seemed that she had caught the sight of Malcus. The young soldier was not blind to the fact that, the way she acted and drew attention from practically every man in the stables and the area, she was a prostitute. It was plain in her every 'selling' movement. All the young soldier could think of was Veronica, his love, who was far from where he was. There were times when he just wanted to hold her, and tell her that he loved her, but Antonius had sent her to Rome, and that was the last he saw of her. Brendyn turned his gaze back to the Captain as he turned to address them.....
Brendyn smiled at the prospect of a good ale upon return, "Aye!" Was all he got out along with a chest strike in salute to Malcus as he left the stables and headed across the street, and kept his eyes low as he watched Malcus interact with the young woman. Brendyn was ready to return to softly correcting Tyranus for the antic, and had not noticed that Quintus had come up beside him. There seemed to be a slightly grumpy tone to the Centurion's voice...
"Aye sir," Brendyn looked at the other man in a sort of confused way. Tyranus had done nothing wrong like kicking over pails, or running wildly about, or biting the folks standing about, all he had done was to see it the Captain was alright. The Centurion was right as well: Malcus could have blow up at he and the horse... but he hadn't. "I am sorry sir...he really meant no harm," Brendyn replied firmly as he stroked his beloved horse's neck. Brendyn truly loved the horse, and had trained him to be a fine war horse. What Tyranus had done was part of something that he had taught the horse to do: After or during a battle or mission, Tyranus would nudge him to see if Brendyn could move or not as well as sense the injuries, kneel or lie down so that Brendyn, if he was injured, could climb on the horse's back, and be carried off for help. Horses had a unique sense about them that enabled them to sense severe injury, fear, danger or illness, and this plus what he had taught the horse was useful so far. Though this was not one of those times appearently. Though the Captain had mentioned he was alright, the black arab mix had walked over to make sure Malcus was alright anyway. If he had bitten the Captain, or showed bad temperment, that would have been different. Instead of trying to explain all of this to Quintus, Brendyn simply said, 'It won't happen again.' Brendyn's eyes fell on the Centurion's own horse that he was leading out of the stables. It was a beauty just like all the rest of them. The young man had always loved horses, so when he had a chance to retrain Tyranus, he jumped at the chance. The animal had proven himself time and again in battle....even to placing himself between his injured master and an arrow once. The horse had received only a small wound over the left shoulder, but had survived. Brendyn fell quiet letting the gentle advice of Quintus sink in a bit when another man showed up at the stables as cheery as though he had had ten wenches the night before. Eyes watched the Optio as he moved to join the group with a cheery greeting...
Brendyn saluted the Optio with a strike on his chest. Don't speak until spoken to... Brendyn stood proudly next to his horse, and observed the cheery attitude of the Optio. Well, at least he had not come in in a bad mood. The young soldier had made doubly sure that he and his horse were ready for his new Commander. Jols and the rest had done good at getting their gear and supplies ready as well. The Optio's cheery demeanor was almost infectious, and it lightened his spirit's slightly. This was his first mission under Arthur's Command, and he wanted to make sure that he was ready. Tyranus seemed to feel the importance of this newcomer as well, and perked his ears forward and stood as if waiting for a military inspection.... |
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| golden_trillium | May 13 2010, 01:09 PM Post #224 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat Oct 25, 2008 3:23 am Neeve The atmosphere in the small cell was getting more and more unpredictable with every second. Neeria had made the worst of all choices when she had tried to kill Arthur of all. This fact would hover over her head forever…and none of the persons present would ever forget about it. Neeve knew that both knights next to her were more than ready and willing to get rid of Neeria…and the healer also knew that it wouldn’t need much for them to do just that. And yet Arthur was still being ever so kind to the Woad though Neeve was sure he was very aware of the increasing anger of the three loyal souls behind him.
Interesting thought. Neeve couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the scout’s words. His disgust against Neeria seemed to be even worse than her own. And his words obviously put the Woad over the edge. She shrieked like an animal…again… And threw herself at Arthur. AGAIN! Right, that’s it…, the raven-haired woman thought grimly as her eyes narrowed dangerously and her whole body tensed…
…and suddenly everything happened very fast. Lancelot and Tristan sprang forward, pulled Neeria off Arthur and held the Woad in a tight grip in a safe distance from their Commander…both with their blades ready to strike. Neeve just needed an instant longer…then moved as well… …and was by Arthur’s side within the blink of an eye. She gently but firmly urged the Roman a step backwards and her blue gaze immediately was on the part of the Commander’s armour under which she knew his injury was. Neeria had clung to him just there… Coincidence? Or another damn attempt to kill him with her 'fear' only covering her true intentions?? Oh, it wouldn’t surprise Neeve…not at all… “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”, the healer asked Arthur and lifted her gaze to let it lock with the Roman’s. “It should have been like this from the very beginning of this…conversation…”, the Briton then added and pointed at Tristan and Lancelot keeping the prisoner in a safe grip, yet her eyes never left Arthur’s face. She knew him long enough to know that he was not happy with the situation…but he should know those around him long enough to not be surprised by it either. The healer heard Lancelot having a serious word with Neeria…but her focus was on their Commander. The woman’s urge to protect him in her own way was stronger than ever. Neeve knew that the Roman was not at his best; he was injured…weakened, despite his pride probably making him almost ignorant to this fact. And Neeria’s little show here was costing him strength…strength he would need for that damn meeting with Merlin. The Briton clenched her jaw at the thought. A thought she still didn’t like…and never would.
Neeve’s eyes still lingered on the Roman when Tristan spoke. She tilted her head a little and raised both eyebrows to silently second the scout’s words. She had several reasons to prefer Neeria staying right where she was…in the dungeons: should the Woad do anything stupid when outside, it was likely that Neeve would be held responsible for the actions in the end; after all, Arthur had put the Woad in her 'care'. The healer wrinkled her nose slightly at the thought and sniffed quietly. And should anything happen to Neeria, it would prolly be her, too, who had to answer to Arthur about it when he returned. If he returns. Not to mention that Neeve would feel more than just uncomfortable with a Woad attached to her for who knew how long. Not good for her mood…nor for her reputation. Especially not these days. Damn it all. Darya
Darya gave the girl a wry smile and nodded pensively. She envied Tatiana for actually having the chance to pick a work of her own choice…to actively change her fate and future. Did Tatiana even know how lucky she was? The Sarmatian licked her lips stiffly and was just about to say something when her dark gaze spotted Optio Scipio entering the courtyard, approaching the group by the stables as he did so. So he was riding out again, too? According to the way he was dressed he was… Darya sniffed quietly and wondered who would be left in charge of the Fortress then…with the Commander and his Optio gone. Only two names popped into her mind for that: Lancelot and Barbattus.
The men immediately replied…and the female Sarmatian, too, automatically greeted Scipio with a quiet but polite “Good morning, Sir…” herself. However, much to Darya’s surprise, even Tatiana addressed the Roman, introducing herself to him as she did so. The dark-haired watched the scene…curious about how the Optio would react to such an informal approach of a girl he most likely had never seen before. To her, Scipio appeared like a man who set value on being addressed in a way fitting his rank. Though Tatiana apparently had no idea whom she was talking to. Well, perhaps she would get the benefit of the doubt… |
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| golden_trillium | May 13 2010, 01:12 PM Post #225 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sat Oct 25, 2008 7:00 am Dagonet Dagonet watched her, a smile still upon his lips. She had doubts... he could see it plainly. He knew her and wondered what made her even consider this. What was the reason of this? Why was she thinking about changing herself? Was it because of him? Was it because of something he had told her some time ago? Was it because of his state? Or she just wanted to try something else than fighting? Her character would never change and for that also Dagonet loved Saoirse. He loved her for who she was... Would a change from a fighting woman into a healer would change her completely?
Dagonet breathed a small laugh at this... But as she tried somehow to explaine this he found himself watching her carefully searching for the answers he asked himself in his mind. But there was also a question in her eyes. He cleared his throat searching for the right words to say, but he didn't know what to say in truth. This would not change anything in him.. the feelings he felt for her. It would not change his love. But would it change her? Would she become somebody else? He could not even imagine her as a calm woman, mixing herbs, making teas and so. He looked away from her for a second puting some of the food inside his mouth. "Is this you really want, Saorise?" he asked after a moment of silence. "Is there any other reason of this?" he looked back at her awaiting her answer. Cause he didn't want see her change the way she always were for some trival reason or because of him. Mirtha Dungeons... Mirtha was used to the look of them, wet, dark and cold. The echoed sounds all over. In summary, Mirtha hated it. Entering with three soldiers escorting him was one of many similar points in his life. Romans were too impatient for his taste... or was it because of his temper? Well it was not that important... He hated dark, cold places.
He hated Romans... The stablemaster looked with a frown upon Karl. Fucking Roman was geting on his nerves.
A thight firm grasp upon his arm tightened and Mirtha frowned looking at Quintus... but kept himself shut this time. The cell he went into was small, but he didn't care much about it. Once he settled in it, stablemaster looked back at the soldiers who brought him here as they spoke something more.
They left and Mirtha shook his head. "Yhea, right. Fucking joy" He lifted his head and put a cloth already soaked with his blood, to his nose. The other hand came to touch it. The nose was broken and felt very strange under his fingertips. It hurted... He should probably set it... He sighed with iritation and pushed hard both hands upon the nose, before it came to the right place. A loud grunt left him at this. Blood run more freely down and Mirtha leaned over the floor. "Fuck..." Mirtha waited for the moment when the blood stopped and he sighed before crossing arms on his chest and leaning over the wall once again. Closed his eyes and waited... He wondered how long would he have to stay here, before that fucking captain will let him out. He cursed too much recently. Ah! Fuck it... he thought and tried to get some sleep. |
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