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Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2014 20:47:02 GMT -6
"you know i'm bad, i'm bad, i'm really really bad"
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS | mothers. the root of distress in your early teenage years.
after moving into a crummy apartment that had a slight though not totally severe cockroach infestation, bellamy was rather certain that she was quite happy about living apart from her mother. the silence was refreshing. no more arguments, no more yelling, no more talking about how she had to do better in school "to have a future and do something with your life unlike me!" according to her beloved mother. it wasn't like she disliked her mother, no, in fact it was quite the opposite (bellamy loved her mother very much). it was only that it was a breath of fresh air to have a degree of independence.
the teenager surreptitiously leaned against a wooden stall and snatched an apple, taking a bite with a satisfying crunch. the sun shone high in the sky, it being about midday, and she casually placed a hand up to block the sun from view. noticing that the shopkeeper wasn't looking too closely, she grabbed three more apples and backed a little into a darker corner, holding the fruit, the blonde concentrated for a second and watched the apples blink out of sight.
hey, free food.
bellamy grinned with satisfaction and shoved her grimy hands into her pockets, whistling and sauntering out into the open market. today was a pretty good day so far. she narrowed her eyes as she spotted a sweating, balding man dressed rather extravagantly, a stark difference compared to the slum folk. he had a lecherous look on his face, and a bulging wallet in his back pocket, and bellamy automatically assumed he was there to...indulge his desires.
she frowned. 'dirty man,' she thought contemptuously. but there was still hope, as that nice-looking wallet of his was right in front of her. bellamy slowly smirked. as she slowly followed the man, just in reach of that thing called money, but when she reached out a hand and prepared to tug the wallet out of his pocket, the man stopped abruptly and stood still, causing her to not only grasp the wallet, but fall onto the stranger. the man turned around and grasped her arm. she froze and swallowed uncomfortably. the man's eyes bulged.
"THIEF!" he roared, face turning red. bellamy rapidly shook his grip free and took off, pursued by the balding man. although she hated to be found out, bellamy also knew with a deep certainty that he would never catch her. after all, she had practically grown up here and knew every twist, turn, and alley in the area while he probably only knew the way to the nearest whorehouse.
now if only she could lose him, and quickly.... |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2014 8:37:18 GMT -6
"A wise man's heart is seldom cheerful"
| ☒ | @open | | ✐ | 734 | | ✉ | Grain, Bears, & Carts |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
It was cold.
Winter clung to the land, its grasp resolute. It had not yet been contented to yield to spring. Chilling winds swirled amongst the river-lands, forcing most farmers into their hovels for fear of frostbite. Those brave souls that did venture outdoors were layered heavily in all manners of garb. It mattered not, for the winds always seemed to find a way to cleave through the fabrics and stiffen the bones.
Svend’s calloused fingers frantically worked the leather drawstrings of his cloak, hastily drawing the cords tighter in a vain attempt to shut out the cold. After a few moments, he could no longer abide the harsh, crisp air and shoved his hands back into his wolf-skin gloves. An item considered rare in this part of Hryst, with the cavernous capital of Aster loomed ahead. For a farmer in the hinterland, all one needed to do to acquire a pair of wolf-skin gloves was to kill and skin the wolf.
All of Svend’s outer attire was made of skins, and homespun. His wool tunic was white and stained. The same could be said for his leggings. There was not a sniff of courtly air about him. Only his cloak, which had up until recently been attached to a bear, would be of any note in Aster. To the denizens here, he was just another poor farmer unloading his last harvest’s surplus for a few extra coins.
He exhaled, taking the reins of his shoddy cart into his hands. His fjord horse Svalfiri whinnied, puffs of condensation visible from his snout. The red dun gelding had been his faithful companion for nearly a decade, and had made this trip countless times since Svend had taken over the farm. With a gentle snap of the reins, the cart lurched forwards and the pair soon passed into the city.
Traffic was relatively light, not much of a surprise considering the weather. People still weaved in and out, sometimes in front of his cart. There was little conversation, each too focused on their own drudgery to spare a greeting. Svend’s destination was the market. His cart was loaded down with the last of the harvest deemed nonessential for surviving the harshness of winter. Aged barley and other grains made up the bulk, but smatterings of sugar beets and other assorted vegetables were in his haul as well. All of this was hidden beneath a large linen, made to keep the snow and rain off the dry goods.
“A fine day is it not sir?” A small man chirped at him, striding alongside his cart. He was dressed rather garishly in brightly dyed robes that had seen better days. Revealing a smile, Svend nodded in return, though it seemed this fellow was not quite finished talking. “How much for that cloak sir? It is so large that I believe I could have it tailored to fit myself, my wife, and two of my children!” Svend could only chuckle at the thought, and his laugh rolled out of him long and slow like warm molasses.
Regaining his composure, Svend’s voice boomed over the hustle and bustle of the street. “Brawl with the bear and you may go away with his skin.” The man’s eyes widened, wondering what it was exactly that Svend implied. City folk could be naïve about the happenings in the Outer Lands, but after looking at Svend’s size, the small man came to the conclusion that this farmer did wrestle a grizzly for its coat; and he would be right. The smaller man waved his hand, muttering under his breath as he slipped away into the crowds. Svend snorted; at least that exchange had broken up the monotony of his day.
Cart and foot traffic began to pick up as Svalfiri guided Svend and his cart into the market area. He still had some distance to go, to reach the vendors that would often buy his products wholesale and then immediately distribute them into their stalls for sale. The commotion here was thick, and voices intertwined into a great din. It was certainly not winter here by any means. Unbeknownst to Svend, a minor theft had taken place to his rear, and while he would never knowingly assist a wrong act…
…the linen which was draped over his cart would make an excellent hiding spot for someone trying to evade a pursuer in the crowd.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2014 19:16:16 GMT -6
"you know i'm bad, i'm bad, i'm really really bad"
| ☒ | @svend | | ✐ | 400 ish | | ✉ | hey look a cart |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS | two minutes turned into five, five minutes turned into fifteen, and soon, bellamy's face was a rather unflattering shade of red, reflected to her by a dirty puddle on the ground. it reminded her of the apples she had taken earlier, and she half groaned, half snorted, at how the ridiculous incident had started it all, turning a simple act of thievery into a chase by a sweaty, balding, ugly man. 'it was looking to be such a nice day too,' she thought, turning the corner to the left. the blonde ducked under a stall tarp and narrowly missed bumping into the stall owner, who angrily shook his fist at her.
oh well.
she briefly turned her head to stick out her tongue at the man, and caught a glimpse of her pursuer, who seemed to have stopped and was talking to some guards making their nearby rounds. the blonde groaned, and picked up her pace a little, speeding up just a tad to gain a bit of a head start. soon however, bellamy was lost yet again in the hustle and bustle of the market square, disappearing in the din and crowd of bodies.
just a few seconds later, she noticed a cart in front of her covered up, the ends of the linen flapping loosely in the slight breeze. the teenager smirked. 'perfect.'
just as the cart slowly rumbled on slowly, bellamy crept behind it and carefully lifted the cloth just enough for her to slip in. when the cart paused slightly, the blonde clambered in as lightly and delicately as possible, taking care to throw the linen over her head again when the cart started moving once again.
the smell of earth and mustiness surrounded her new hiding place, and bellamy inhaled the fresh scent of vegetables. she moved her hand a little, feeling some kind of rough sensation. 'some kind of wheat maybe?' she pondered, blowing some loose hair out of her face.
wiggling around a little to get comfortable, the teenager was about to lie down when her hand brushed the side of the wagon. "ow!" she squeaked out, holding her hand closer to her. through some dim light filtering through the cloth, she figured she must have gotten some kind of splinter.
hopefully, whomever was the owner of the cart hadn't heard her.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2014 10:14:35 GMT -6
"A wise man's heart is seldom cheerful"
| ☒ | @@nim | | ✐ | 472 | | ✉ | odd meetin' you here |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
“Make way! Make way!” A frail carriage pulled by an equally sickly horse cut across Svend’s path. Jerking hard on the reins, Svalfiri whinnied and the cart jerked to a sudden stop. In an instant, the carriage had rumbled on into another lane of traffic, and Svend could not bring himself to shout or raise his ire at the driver’s impolite behavior. This winter seemed to have everyone a tad unhinged. Svend knew all too well, as reports of theft and burglary had even reached the remote area that he called home.
Exhaling, Svend went about getting the cart into motion again. Tugging the reins, his mind was still preoccupied on the carriage driver. He was distracted just enough that he did not notice the slight thump from the rear of his own cart, nor the cry of his stowaway. In a few moments, the cart was rolling towards an empty stall. Standing, with arms crossed, was a heavily bearded man; clearly the owner.
“You are late Svend. Look at all these people and my stall sits without any goods to sell!” The man gestured wildly with his hands. He was a very animated fellow. “Snow drifts. You might understand, Leopold, if you ventured away from Aster a bit more.” Svend flashed a smile but only for a second. He knew how easy it was to rile the merchantman. “Ha, out into that nonsense? Never. And who would remain here to sell all your second rate produce? Bah.” He broke into mumbling under his breath before resuming a normal tone. “So what have ya got? You promised me three barrels worth of grain.”
Svend guided the cart out of traffic, parking a few yards away from the stall. Leaping down from the driver’s seat, the bearskin cape fluttered around his muscular form. If not for his obvious rustic upbringing, Svend could have a cut a decent image for a knight or at least a guardsman. “It’s all there, some sugarbeets as well. Could I trouble you for a shovel Leopold? It’d make unloading all of this a lot easier.”
After a bit of grumbling, Leopold disappeared behind the stall to retrieve the tool. Svend produced an apple, and after spending a few seconds tending to Svalfiri began to move to the rear of his cart. Removing his gloves, he clutched on to the linen sheet and tossed it back all at once. Scanning over his load, he did a quick mental inventory. The grain was there, starting to slightly mix with the smattering of sugarbeets. A few other vegetables were nestled in the corner separately and then there was, well, there was a girl.
A look of confusion appeared on his face, his left eyebrow rising slightly as his eyes locked onto hers.
“That’s strange. I have no memory of packing you.”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2014 17:13:34 GMT -6
"you know i'm bad, i'm bad, i'm really really bad"
| ☒ | @svend | | ✐ | 450 ish | | ✉ | OOH FOUND OUT |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS | the cart stopped again, and by the voices she could hear outside, she figured it was for good. if only there was some way to get out without both the cart driver and whomever was talking to him (she did assume both of them to be men) noticing, but she figured the best course of action was staying in the cart, hidden against some grain and holding a bunch of vegetables against her face. not that that would be the smartest plan, but it wasn't like there was anything else to do besides obviously slip out of the cart and have both men see her and perhaps even think she was a thief. oh no, she absolutely could not have that happen. anyways, best case scenario, the man would simply see her, let her go with a few chiding words; but in the worst case, he'd get angry at her and she'd have to throw a knife or somethin' to distract them. which now that she thought of it, probably wasn't the better choice either, and she'd aggravate yet another big guy.
well. too late. the linen is thrown aside like a broken toy, and bellamy stared up at a veritable giant, at least to her eyes. being just a bit speechless, the first words that came out of her mouth were, "...is that a real bear skin?" she asked coolly, in attempt to hide her wariness. the blonde haired teenager clambered out of the cart, carefully dusting herself off. "anyways. don't mind me," she responded cheerfully. bellamy combed a dirty hand through her hair. "sorry to intrude. i did hitch a ride, so if you need any help, i'm available," she threw out casually, staring up at the man.
bellamy leaned against the side of the cart and yawned. "damn. all that running made me thirsty," she muttered. after a quick glance back at the lane of traffic, the teenager deduced that the man chasing her was either far away and still in pursuit, or had given up on her. unconsciously patting her favorite knife tucked into her waistband, she slowly froze when she heard a voice shout out, "there! that's the thief!" bellamy slowly swiveled around to see the sweating man from earlier surrounded by a few guards, pointing at her.
"...well. she shrugged. "didn't expect him to catch up so quickly." the group of men started making their way over to where she was standing. she glanced at the owner of the cart. "hey, old man. guess i'm sorry for dragging you into this," she slowly grasped her knife and backed away just a bit.
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