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Post by whisp. on Aug 7, 2009 14:53:20 GMT -5
She couldn’t concentrate in class so now she moved about the halls while she debated what to do. Her body was tense and no matter how much she walked it wouldn’t work its way out of her system. Instead it only got worse and even the idea of boxing seemed unpleasant and a far away thought. It was as if she were lost, circling and circling some point she could never seem to reach. Answers were what she wanted, not more curiosities. Lillian’s thoughts rambled off more, debating who she could turn to and couldn’t. Toni Wilkes threat still was a heavy fog around her and she dared not speak a word of what happened for the fear of the consequence. It was simple, tell and Bryce would die. The cold feeling of helplessness rode up through her spine and slowly she rubbed her hands together as if trying to find warmth.
“I just need answers.” She murmured to herself, a long sigh following.
There was not much she could do right now besides wander, avoid teachers, and think. What she really needed was distraction, something to completely avert her mind from everything it had been thinking about since she had left the forest this morning and joined up with the rest of the student body. Mindlessly thinking, a sort of thought came to mind. Slowing her pace down to a stop, she stood still. What about fate? Fortune? Magic? She herself could not tell the difference between the cards or look into a crystal ball and see the future, but perhaps someone that resided at the camp would know and would be willing to help her. It was a risk, most likely illogical. But in that moment it seemed to be the answer to her questions. If anything it would at least give her something to believe in and to hold as true. Sucking in a deep breath, Lillian turned to see where she was and mentally going through the list of Gypsies that would be willing to do this for her.
Somewhere in her mind another gear clicked. There was a girl that would come and work at the school, Lillian had seen her at camp too. She seemed friendly enough perhaps, even though she hadn’t spoken a word to her. Maybe, just maybe she’d be willing to read her fortune for her. So very carefully she turned to continue down the hall, searching for this mysterious girl that may be able to ease Lillian’s troubled mind.POST STATUS !?: finished RPING WITH !?: Bun. <3 WORD COUNT !?: 510 NOTES !?: meh. I apologize that it sucks. xD [/size] |
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Post by blythe on Aug 10, 2009 4:56:48 GMT -5
 "Do you call this damned floor clean!? Maybe by filthy heathen standards, but we're not gpysies," the woman spat at Natalya's feet as she surveyed the hallway floor. To be fair, the stains in the hall had been there for an exceptionally long time; only a replacement of the floor tiles would get it to shine the same sheen as ten years ago again. No matter who got down on their knees and scrubbed at the floor, those few stubborn spots remained decidedly yellowed. No one was ever expected to remove them, but it had been her punishment for arriving late more than one day this week.
Things had come up, but, of course, no one actually believed her. Well, no one in a higher power than her. Most of them just saw a gypsy girl coming and going on her own time, still expecting to be paid like the rest. And so, her supervisor today felt the need to give her a lesson. It was going to be her mission to scrub at the floor, wearing away at her own knuckles, until she did the impossible. How dreary. No amount of pleading had worked a few hours earlier, and Natalya didn't think they'd work now; however, there was no harm in trying again, right?
"We are Florence's Academy!" the woman exclaimed a little louder, jabbing a finger against Natalya's chest. Her face was stretched taut by the severity of her bun, but wrinkles of displeasure still managed to line her wizened brow. The chocolate colored eyes were hard and unfeeling as they burrowed into Natalya's soul, declaring her a heretic and a slob unfit to grace the halls of her school. It was a sad day, in Mrs. Cleaning Lady's mind, when the riff raff scattered along the grounds was allowed inside the building for anything other than punishment for trespassing.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I really did try my best! I scrubbed an' scrubbed an' scrubbed but it wouldn't come out. Maybe someone could replace the floor or somethin'?" she asked hesitantly, not prepared for it, but finding it ironic that it happened again so soon. Whoever proclaimed that women were weak hadn't been on the receiving end of a slap like this. Each finger seemed to want to dig a print into her already red and purple cheek. The first bruise she had obtained hadn't even begun to stop smarting when she moved her face, and now here was another hand trying to make it permanent. Something like an exclamation of shock passed through her lips but it was unheeded and unacknowledged.
"I want this floor spotless before you leave today, or expect to stay the whole night here, 'scrubbing an' scrubbing,'" came the barked after her threat sunk in slightly. Without waiting for a verbal answer, the portly, older woman waddled away from the scene of the crime, moving to check up on the next troublemaker of an employee and dish out some more bitch slaps to anyone who responded with more than a "yes, ma'am!" There was no doubt about it that there would be other employees willing to sympathise with the young woman by the end of the day.
This wasn't her natural environment; she flourished in the open air and gardens, not stifled within the claustrophobia-inducing walls of the school. Her hair was meant to fall past her shoulders in delicate curls or a busy mane, untamed, not slicked back into a similar bun to the one her supervisor wore. Her body was supposed to be swaddled in brightly colored loose fitting tunics and faded, patched harem pants or skirts, not this confining, crisp uniform that declared her body a foreign object that must be contained. However, she took the job-- was forced the job, but who really liked to consider semantics-- and it was time to do her job.
Bending down on her knees, Natalya dunked her scrubbing brush into the foam pail of water and then resumed what she started before, her scrubbing an' scrubbing of the hallway. Earlier today, her hands had already blistered and split, causing blood to smear on the floor which was why the older woman had been so upset. Now, not only did she have to make yellow spots disappear, she had to clean blood and keep from spilling further blood on the floor. "This really is dreary."  [/b][/color] finished! RPING WITH !?: a whisper of a person WORD COUNT !?: 732 words NOTES !?: firefox deleted it yesterday; i was pissed. LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul] |
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Post by whisp. on Aug 10, 2009 15:09:57 GMT -5
 The long halls of Florence told a story, or so she thought; each tile representing some sort of time and place. She wondered how many famous people had walked along them, or how many fights they had endured, or perhaps how many lovers had met in the middle of the night in these halls. They had a sense of character to them and secrets that they would never tell. In a way they were comforting, to know that no matter what happened, the tiles would keep still and quiet. The halls however, were less secretive and ready to pass on gossip like a student itself.
She glanced around nervously, as if expecting some teacher to jump out and scold her for not being in class. There was a thrill factor to it, of breaking the rules. And despite the busy thoughts it was almost calming and a smile formed on her lips. Surely she wanted to be here instead of class, going to find answers she wanted and needed. Everything seemed to be nagging her for this. Conversations reminded her of her thoughts, pictures and signs just renewed images in some twisted form. It all led there, it wouldn’t stop. Lillian didn’t want these answers, she needed them.
A long echoing conversation carried down the hallways and rang in Lillian’s ears. Certain words lost their place among the wall but it was an argument of a sort, angry words. The tone never seemed to lose its place and slowly she walked closer, listening and straining herself to hear. Part of it was curiosity, partly because she thought maybe this was leading to the person she wanted to find. Cautiously and slowly, she began to tip toe herself down the hall while she listened and waited. At the sound of skin hitting skin, Lillian jumped and her eyes widened and she moved into a classroom to hide as footsteps clicked down the tile floor.
Counting to five, Lillian tentatively stepped out into the hall and checked to make sure both ways were clear before she moved to add her footsteps to the silence. Suddenly, there was something haunting about the hallways. A fear of Toni Wilkes shriveled through her spine and she glanced around nervously, as if waiting for him to appear out of thin air. He could be that spider casting a web in the corner, or the bird perched right outside the window, and for all she knew he could be a pencil left behind on the floor. Hair on the back of her neck stood up at the anticipation and fear. Lillian felt watched, like he was waiting for her to utter the secret and before she could even react Bryce would be lying somewhere dead, the flies already finding him by the time she got there. Her heart raced a little faster and she peered around the corner slowly.
To her relief and surprise, it was the gypsy girl that she had seen leave and enter the school countless times before. For a while, Lillian just stood there. Her eyes transfixed on the blood and the soap suds and the yellowed and forever permanent stains. Carefully, she took a step forward, not trying to make too much noise. From her angle she could see the purple and red bruise on the side of her face and she thought about the slap she had heard, but knowing in the time it had taken her to get here that it wouldn’t have reacted so quickly.
Lillian wasn’t sure what she should say. Minutes before she had been confident in her behavior, she had it all planned out, but now it all seemed silly and wrong and she doubted the girl would even help her. ”Those stains have been forever.” her voice was soft, low and gentle. She did not want to frighten the girl away or make her think she was some sort of threat. Taking a step or two towards her, she was able to study the scene more easily. The bruise was still as loud, and the floor was still old and faded with dirt. Lillian went to say something, but stopped short. Pausing, she went to start again. ”I know this may sound strange…but I was wondering if you read cards? To tell the future and things?” Her eyes scanned the floor again, picking out the old stains. ”I know that you don’t really know me, but I’d pay you back in some way if you did.” More confidently, Lillian took another step or so closer. ”I’m Lillian Macarthur.” And she extended her hand slowly, not sure what the girl would make of this sudden friendship.
Answers. She thought to herself slowly. I just need answers. |
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Post by blythe on Aug 10, 2009 21:57:56 GMT -5
”Those stains have been forever,” came the girl's voice finally, slipping into Natalya's ear, breaking the monotonous sound of the bristles working back and forth on the floor. Many times her hands would knock against the floor, or her fingers would get caught under the bristles. The chemicals in the cleaning solutions filled her nostrils, making her dizzy, and fizzled against the open wounds, making them bleed more freely. It really was no wonder that Natalya didn't like working indoors; it was always a dangerous business.
Anyways, Natalya had always been at home in the forest. In time, even some of the animals seemed to agree because Natalya Benson wasn't one to hurt a fly. It took her years to gain the trust of the forest, and, in return for watching over her game creatures, Artemis granted the young woman a chance to grow her skills and to learn to pick up on the smallest footsteps as if she were also a deer on the run. And so, It was no surprise that Lillian MacArthur had been standing there. She was just giving the girl all the time she needed to do whatever it was she needed to do. As it came to be, the girl wished to talk to her.
Tilting her head up to get a view, Natalya was struck by who it was. Of course she had seen Lillian before. If not walking around the grounds, then coming into the camp on occasion. The blonde hair hugging her face, the delicate facial features... for a moment, the young woman was jealous. She was a girl of fortune, beauty, grace, she had something others didn't have-- a pass into the gypsy camp relatively unharmed. Even her voice... Natalya's reminded many people of an eight year old little girl who had just come over from Spain, not... a sixteen year old who could speak English fluently as well.
"I... know," she remarked just as softly, nervous as to why she wasn't as boisterous as some of her classmates. "It's my punishment for coming late a few days ago." Her hand moved to her cheek instinctively, as if recalling that day over. Her eyes closed for a moment at the sight of her hands before dropping them again. Swallowing hard, Natalya wondered if the girl needed anything. Other students approached her occasionally. Little girls nervous about their first periods would whisper and ask her to change their sheets so they wouldn't be in trouble for soiling them. Older girls and boys asked her to clean their clothes to get rid of the faintly musky and dirty smells. She was one of the maids who didn't ask questions, who didn't tell.
Maybe Miss MacArthur needed someone who wouldn't ask questions. Waiting, Natalya let her continue speaking, pushing the scrubbing brush back into the pail with a wince. ”I know this may sound strange…but I was wondering if you read cards? To tell the future and things? I know that you don’t really know me, but I’d pay you back in some way if you did... I’m Lillian Macarthur.”
That... wasn't one of her usual requests. At all. Her eyes flickered to Lillian's face, looking to see if this was a joke or something. It would be painful... to think that someone who looked so perfect would feel the need to be like everyone else, to be like, well... someone like Celeste Worthington. Hesitatingly, she pushed off her knees to her feet slowly. She looked from side to side and then brushed the suds off her hands onto her uniform, trying to avoid getting the blood on the white parts. "You don't have to pay me, Miss MacArthur. If you need your future read... I left my bag in one of the hall closets." Her hand didn't move to shake Lil's, not wanting to dirty it up. [/b][/color] FINISHED RPING WITH !?: whispers in my ears. WORD COUNT !?: 632 words NOTES !?: uh. done done done. LYRICS !?: "careless whisper" -- seether CREDIT TO!?: me. blythe. (:[/sup][/ul] |
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Post by whisp. on Aug 12, 2009 21:25:47 GMT -5
Lillian had been given the privilege of being able to walk into the camp and from what she could tell they were decently content. The world was their home and Lillian had never seen such an environment before. There was a peace there that Lillian longed for, rather than the hustle and bustle of society. Inside of her she felt a yearning for that sort of life style with fresh air and the world at her fingertips. Perhaps that is why she felt the need to consult help with one of the ladies that resided there.
There was a pain in her stomach as she was able to examine the bruise on the side of her face, no doubt that surely someone at the school had caused it. Lillian felt the urge to apologize for their behavior, as if she had to when none of it was her fault. It was because of the shame she felt when she saw the purple and black colors coming together in one nasty black hole. Swallowing hard, the young Florence girl stepped closer to her, wanting to be friendly.
Beyond the bruise was a soft face and Lillian could almost feel a sense of immediate trust. There were many times when she had seen a variation of students talk to the Natalya about who knows what. All Lillian had ever known was that this girl was someone worth trusting, who would listen and help. It was why, after all, she had wanted to seek her out to figure out her problems.
A frown formed easily on her lips as the brunette explained why she was settled in this particular hallway. Along with the stains, Lillian could make out some faint blood that rested on the floor. It wasn’t right for this to be a punishment. Those stains weren’t going anywhere anytime soon and surely the person who ran the maintenance of the school would know that. ”I have some sort of chemical that might be able to lighten them. Surely not get rid of them, but it would look you really put a number on those stains.” It was almost a lie, she had no chemical with her nor did she think one could exist. But Lillian did know that she would make it appear as though Natalya had worked very hard.
There was nothing joking about her expression as Natalya studied it. She was sure that the girl was surprised that a student was asking for that sort of assistance instead of help with the laundry or some other small issue. For Lillian this was a much larger problem that she needed assistance with. Even if the cards weren’t right, it was still something that she could depend on until things worked themselves out.
Slowly, Lillian began to smile as the girl stood up and she too glanced around, making sure there was no one else around. ”No, no. I insist. I’ll help you clean so that you aren’t wasting time with me.” There was firmness in her voice that meant that she too would get down on her hands and knees and scrub the tiles of the floor alongside Natalya.
”May I ask what your name is?” She said suddenly when the idea hit her that she didn’t know it. Falling in step next to Natalya, Lillian smiled gently, anxious to see what her future would hold.
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