things falling apart

POSTED: Sun Jun 09, 2019 2:55 pm

this is how it all begins

The trek back to his cabin seemed both an eternity and a blur at the same time. Leaving him to his own devices, the witch had thundered off on her dark steed, and the coyote took her arm roughly as he led her through the dark woods, sometimes yanking her forward if she began to lag behind or bawl. He wouldn't look at her, his eyes glaring straight ahead, though if he caught her staring at him, searching for any sort of charity or hope, he growled at her. Maybe he had told her to stop crying at some point, that it was her own fault — that she should be grateful. Alejandra wasn't so sure what was happening anymore.

Tears blurred her vision, held-back sobs shook her doughy frame. And yet none of this roused sympathy from the man. Of course it wouldn't, though. He was a coyote; worse yet, one from Salsola. He was a devil incarnate as far as she was concerned, the devil incarnate.

She didn't even know his name. Did it really matter, though? Did... any of this really matter?

Aly didn't have a lot of time to dwell on that thought, as they had arrived at his small home, and he marched her straight inside and finally let go of her. She rubbed her arm — it was sore where he had gripped her so tightly and harshly — and sniffed as he shut the door behind them, her dark ears pinned against her head and her tears stained the wooden floors as she shivered. He had taken her backpack and stowed it away with his things, probably to look through it later. Luckily he left her with her skirt, though; at this point it was a clutch, her only comfort.

Her dark eyes regarded him timidly from behind her messy white bangs, and she gulped hard as her frame seized again with another whimper.

[+300] • will i always reference NIN in our threads? probably.

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POSTED: Sun Jun 09, 2019 5:29 pm

The me that you know
Is now made up of wires

Andrew accepted this gift with grace -- though, it never occurred to him that he'd take a servant for himself, or at least not so soon after being freed from servitude himself. Yet, Andrew couldn't deny the strange allure of being on the other side of the whip. It was a taste of legitimacy, that his house would stand among the wealthy Salsolan elite as equals. There was still a long way to go.

He led the servant back to his Millstone home with a tight grip. Andrew was not a cruel man, but he had become stern. It would take time for the girl to understand that his word was law. He had to command authority from the start, lest he make a mockery of the crown's gracious gift. He would not embarrass himself before the kingdom by grooming an unruly servant.

The door shut behind him with a dull creak after entering the musty cabin. "Sit," Andrew instructed the whimpering wolfdog, gesturing to a chair by the table. He unsheathed a knife and cut the servant's bindings away. The cordage fell to the floor.

"My name is Andrew --" He glanced the woman over, examining her for defects. He found none. "But you will address me as Lord Greygrief. Is this understood?" His voice was firm, but lacked the edge of cruelty. A beat followed. "And what shall I call you?" He asked. "Do you have a name?"

OOC text here!
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
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Ryan
Luperci Creatore Mate to Narcissa I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Wed Jun 12, 2019 8:00 pm

this is how it all begins

The man wasted no time, pointing out a chair and having her sit. Shakily, the wolfdog did as she was told, but when he pulled out his knife, she involuntarily flinched, her eyes widening in fear. But his hands moved to hers, to release her from her admittedly loose bindings — he hadn't made the rope too tight around her wrists, thankfully.

His name was Andrew. Or, well — Lord Greygrief, supposedly. His eyes were expectant, waiting for her submission to his title, and she nodded numbly, still massaging her sore hands as he stood over her and watched with his unyielding green gaze.

"... My name is Alejandra." The statement was unsure, unsteady, and hoarse, but it was the best she could manage. Her eyes flicked down to the floor where her feet rubbed anxiously at each other, her ankles knocking against one another painfully. It was a nervous tic, a momentarily distraction, but even all the diversions in the world could not keep her away from the intense, stifling gravity of her current situation.

It felt as though there were many things she ought to ask — many things she deserved to know about. But she felt overwhelmingly tired and distressed, far too much so to turn the questioning back to her new master. Besides, Andrew probably wouldn't appreciate being interrogated, anyway. She was in no position to call the shots, not now, not ever.

Aly looked back at him again, sniffling, waiting in painful silence.

[+200] • >:)

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POSTED: Thu Jun 13, 2019 4:37 pm

Narcissa couldn't profess that she was enjoying married life, but she couldn't quite claim the opposite either. It was true that the (temporary, Andrew insisted) accomodation was piss poor and while Andrew's skills in the bedroom were impressive his companionship was severely lacking. The instant benefits to turning herself into a political pawn were few and far between, and she struggled daily to keep this in mind as she weighed up the consequences of her actions and choices.

'Lord?' she hummed amusedly, announcing herself without greeting nor introduction. She didn't even so much as look at the diminutive woman sat solemnly in the chair for her hawk like earthen gaze was trained maliciously upon her new husband. 'Lord of what exactly?' The Greygrief woman questioned him from above. She took up far more space in the cabin that it's other two occupants, by both physical measure and in terms of her domineering personality. The flowing sapphire gown she wore didn't help either, for it was more akin to a cape-like waterfall of fabric than what most would consider a dress, still she enjoyed the looser fit.

Finally, her attention did turn towards the shrinking violet, though her tone of voice likely left both other parties wishing she hadn't. 'I hope you're not planning on keeping that indoors.'

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POSTED: Thu Jun 13, 2019 5:19 pm

The me that you know
Is now made up of wires

The fresh servant spoke, voice flush with fear -- for what else could she feel? Andrew sought to assure her, for he'd learned his own lessons in servitude; like, one caught more flies with honey rather than vinegar. He would have to make her care, for a dispassionate servant was a lazy servant, and such things would not do for the fledgling house Greygrief.

"Alejandra -- that's a lovely name," Andrew spoke then with a curt nod of his head. Helena had been fair, or rather, her cruelty so hidden that Andrew still could not see the damage she wrought -- though he hoped to show his own servant the same perceived fairness.

However, his beautiful bride was a complication, for she unraveled progress before it could begin to take root.

Andrew sighed with exhaustion and turned briefly to regard Narcissa. "If our house is to rise in power, we will need to command respect -- the both of us." He the Lord, she the Lady, both set to be powerful fixtures among the Salsolan nobility. It was a shame Narcissa was so short sighted in her selfishness, for the intelligence was there, but Andrew was sure her spiteful nature would hold them both back from greatness.

He turned back to the servant with expression unchanged. "She will stay," he said, knowing they'd need to keep a close eye on a servant so new. "Briefly. Until we move to our finished cottage and I build a quarters for her so we may keep our privacy." To turn her loose now was practically asking her to run away. Ever concerned about the Greygrief family image, Andrew went on, "After all, the crown has given us a great gift. It would reflect poorly on our family to turn it away."

He would not invite disaster into their lives so easily.

OOC text here!
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
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Ryan
Luperci Creatore Mate to Narcissa I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Fri Jun 14, 2019 6:45 pm

this is how it all begins

His comment caused a bit of surprise to shine through her red, sore eyes; as firm as he had been before, it seemed a bit odd that he would change on a whim and compliment her instead; should she have been suspicious? But perhaps it would be wise to take everything in this godless kingdom with a grain of salt. Nevertheless, her frown softened somewhat, though that wasn't to say she looked any less worried and upset than before.

It seemed the pair was not alone in the humble cabin, and like a storm, his wife blew in with all the force and grace of a pale hurricane.

She was large, taller than Andrew, several times more intense and brooding than her partner. Aly was spared from her intimidating glare as she instead addressed Lord Greygrief, her voice like acid; the flowing dress that draped her long body, while gorgeous and something that would ordinarily interest the skittish wolfdog, only served to reinforce the regal air this frightening woman put on. Her speckled frame flinched hard when her brown eyes finally swept over to her, and she fiddled with her hands nervously at her harsh statement.

Andrew set out to calm his partner with a sigh, and Alejandra kept rubbing her aching wrists incessantly, fidgeting uncomfortably under the other female's stern gaze. She held back a small, bitter laugh at his words — a great gift, he said. It was all so insane to her, so barbaric — all of it. To keep slaves seemed so backwards and cruel, but perhaps that was a fitting act for a woman as imperious as this blanched wolfess.

And, of course, this was Salsola. Her expectations of her new home — that too was a laughable term — were already exceedingly low as it was.

She did not voice any of these thoughts, instead shifting her nervous eyes from Andrew and his pale bride from beneath snowy white, dirty bangs.

[+300] • >:)

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POSTED: Mon Jun 17, 2019 9:00 am

3+

She held him in little regard and her eyes betrayed her, a stark contrast from the faux enamour she portrayed when they left the confines of the decrepit cabin and it's crumbling, rotten walls. She held him in further disregard now too, scorned by his forceful actions on their wedding night. The way he'd forced himself on her like a wild animal. The sex hadn't been anything she would have rallied against so much as she did her utter lack of control. It had shown her a new side to her situation, the realisation that though she outsized her new husband even though she'd yet to finish growing, his muscles were much more honed and bettered worked than hers. That night she'd vowed to do something about that, and do something about it she had done. Her muscles still stung from that day's sparring, but the pain reminded her that she was stronger than him in spirit and soon, she would be stronger in physicality.

'You seem to be under the assumption that I'm not working on that in my own way.' Narcissa pointed out. 'I thought that as a former slave you'd baulk at the idea of being someone's master, but it seems you've so easily forgotten your former status. How convenient for you.' She smirked at his words, 'Both of us.' Such reluctant words. Both parties were so entwined now that their successes and failures were each others, both had no option but to champion the other.

'Would you allow a sow into the house?' The Lady Greygrief questioned sharply, her chocolate gaze lingering on the servant for a moment before zeroing back in on Andrew. 'Would inviting a slave into our abode, to live among us, not subject us to similar scorn?' A poisonous smile laced her lips, 'Would you allow your children to live beside the likes of a slave?' It was far too early to tell, but Narcissa's ego led her to believe his seed had taken without needing proof.

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POSTED: Sun Jul 07, 2019 2:23 pm

The me that you know
Is now made up of wires

What little warmth lingering in Andrew's gaze fell away as the mask slipped from his face. Narcissa knew not her tongue and when to hold it, revealing far too much in a fit of emotion and rage. Yet, the damage could not be undone. Andrew could not take his wife's tongue in hand a reel her words back. He would have to bear them; rise above them.

He turned to look upon Narcissa with eyes of stone. The servant was his property. He would see fit to do with her as he pleased. "She stays," Andrew repeated. Narcissa was perhaps too young to understand the Boreas and the threat they posed. She had not fought them. She had not taken an arrow in battle against them. Andrew, however, had. His decisions were informed by history. He could not turn a Boreas wolf lose in Salsola without keeping a close eye on her himself. Perhaps he could explain -- not that Narcissa would ever truly listen.

The snort of derision from the servant pierced through the tension. "And you --" Andrew chided, scolding as a parent scolds a child as he turned his gaze down upon the lowly servant, "-- will be silent until called upon."

Surrounded by complications, he huffed with frustration. A contemplative pause followed. "Yes Alejandra, I owed a debt to Salsola," Andrew went on with some reluctance. His service would need to be addressed seeing as his wife had let it slip. "I bore the same chains as you, but they no longer hold me back." There was an unspoken insinuation in the statement.

He loomed over the servant, gaze cutting down like a knife. "It would serve you best to remember who holds the key."

OOC text here!
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
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Ryan
Luperci Creatore Mate to Narcissa I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Fri Jul 12, 2019 11:22 pm

this is how it all begins

Her world grew strangely dim when the woman spoke again with her serpent's tongue.

Blue eyes squinted and snapped to her captor in confusion, her lips slowly tugging into a weird, almost hurt frown. Former... slave...? Was she speaking truth? That sounded ridiculous; if this were true, why would he have wished it upon anyone else? Everything else the lady said fell upon deaf ears; instead she stared into the reserved green eyes of her "master," as if she deserved to know the real answer. Her newly appointed status be damned, she still looked at him with indignation and befuddlement.

Andrew was quiet for a moment longer before he affirmed his betrothed's words, and she only watched him for a brief time before her dark eyes fell to the floor.

Perhaps it was frustration that had seized her, bewilderment that caused her tears to return. Salsola was a dark place in which no actions served anything but one's self; would she end up like Andrew if she ever made it out alive? Would she turn on her heel and enslave some other poor soul as he had?

What was wrong with him? What was wrong with this godless place? They were sick, every one of them. They were plagued with sin, separated from the God that had constructed them; this was their affliction, and they sought only to engulf more in their terrible fold. It truly was a shame they had pulled her into their black hole.

His words brought her eyes to his again, though the salty tears blurred her vision. Oh yes, this slave-turned-Lord held the key to her freedom, and she doubted he would ever let her go.

She sniffed again but she said nothing.

She would be silent until called upon.

[+300] • >:)

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flowers of naivety

POSTED: Sun Jul 14, 2019 6:44 pm

000

A surprised smile dressed her face as Andrew's face dropped, obviously not having revealed his past to them cowering woman. Triumph was evident in every fibre of the Amazon's being and a sly grin was glued to her pale face, black stripes creeping up on her dark eyes.

Andrew was a forceful as he dared to be, evoking frustrated eye-rolling and derisive snickers from his lady wife. A deep grumble sounded in her throat she hummed aloud, dark eyes narrowed and trained on her husband. 'Oh, I forgot. You must be so lonely now you're 'one of us', hmm?' There was no love in her voice. There never was and never had been. Only taunting and cruelty. 'You need a little slave in your house, just for the company. Just so you don't feel left out...' Her voiced had picked up a mock piteous and she smiled devilishly. 'You'll be fucking her like a wild animal before the month is out. Once a slave always a slave, I guess...'

She departed swiftly, not out of fear but out of a compulsive need to have the last word. The more uncertainty she could feed the slavewoman with and the more she could agitate Andrew, the better.

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