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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jun 28, 2010 21:14:35 GMT -5
4th Week of Winter, 2nd Year of Queen Sabrina de la Courcel's Reign It was cold, but it as to be expected, considering it was winter. I had spent the night before in a run down in, so I could not complain. The room was small, the fire was terrible, and the room was frowsy, but the covers were warm and dry and that was all that mattered. But today was another day, and I had little coin for food. I was dressed in my usual, layers upon layers of sullied old gowns and tights that made me look round and awkward, and homeless. Which was good because it meant people steered clear of me, or did not even notice I was there. There were people milling about, not many but enough, and the stalls were open with their wares, items and trinkets that mattered not to me other than that they could be stolen and sold, though that was difficult. My eyes were on the food stands, and on the pockets of those exchanging money for material goods. I stood beside a stall selling sausages baked and wrapped in a crisp pastry. The one I was eyeing had been burnt, and probably would not sell anyways. The woman was busy with a tall blond man, and I was hoping he would not notice as I reached across her table with nimble fingers in an attempt to snatch up the pastry.
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Jun 28, 2010 23:54:01 GMT -5
I moved through the city, looking for more items for my house. I had been spending quite some time trying to get accustomed to my surroundings but it was hard. I was shy at court and didn't often get the chance to speak with others so I had little friends so far. Today I was hoping to find some paintings, so I wandering from district to district in a search. But I stopped at a little cart, the smell of home made goods wafting up my nostrils. I was purchasing my item when I glanced over to see a ruddy girl reaching out to snatch some food. I don't know know why but I felt bad for her and distracted the stall keeper for a moment longer as the blonde was able to snatch something. I had been hoping it would work, but the woman turned and saw the girl, snatching at her hand.
"Eh! What do you think you're doing!?" She shouted as she grasped the girls wrist. "Guards! Guards!" She began to shout. I felt even more sorry for the girl so I looked to the old woman.
"Wait." I said to her. "I'll pay for her food." I pulled out another coin and paid the woman. She grumbled, releasing the girls hand and I went toward the blond. My hand went to her shoulder and guided her away from the cart till we were out of ear shot. "That probably wasn't wise." I said to her as we stopped a distance away from the cart.
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jun 29, 2010 0:09:20 GMT -5
I knew that the man had seen me, and for some reason was... not telling her straight off what I was doing. Before I had a chance to ponder on whether this was kindness or stupidity, the woman turned abruptly on her heel and clamped her bony fingers around my wrist. I tugged to get away, but cowerd when she called for the guards. I knew I would be in a world of trouble, and started to feel a bit of panic, the panic I had felt that day when my shoulder and chest had been cut into.
I looked to the man, wondering if he would have a look of disgust on his face, but instead he seemed to be saddened... he seemed to pity me, and I thought that that was worse. Before I could contest the woman or make matters worse for myself by dragging her with me as I seeked to get away, the man offered to pay. The woman released me at the glint of a shiny coin, as though nothing had happened. Of course, this made me feel even less worth the trouble, and less worthy of a human being on a whole. I glared at the man as he guided me away, shrugging my shoulder from beneath his touch.
"Do NOT touch me," I seethed, anger making me tunnel visioned. I should have been thanking him, but I was too embarassed and enraged. "And what do you know about what is and isnt wise?" I spat, looking him up and down. He was clean, well groomed, and well dressed as he towered over me. "You don't look like ye've had to beg all YOUR life."
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Jun 29, 2010 0:50:41 GMT -5
Her words were like fire and I looked at her, really looked at her. It was strange, she almost looked familiar as though I had met her before yet I couldn't place where. She words upset at me and I wasn't too sure why, other then the fact that I was simply trying to help. There was no use arguing with her or telling her that I had when I so clearly hadn't. "Well you must be a awful genius to figure that out." I said back at her, a bit more stiffly then I had intended, and mostly filled with sarcasm. "And you're welcome by the way, for not letting that woman have you thrown in the dungeon." I looked at her, my eyes narrowed a little. I usually wasn't the type to get upset, but apparently today I was.
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jun 29, 2010 1:08:52 GMT -5
I rolled my eyes at him. I did not have the patience for this, and my stomach was starving.
"Is it my thanks you wish? Then thank you. I pray to the Gods you arent looking for more than that," I said, eyeing him from head to toe then back again, grimacing as I wondered if he would try to use this as a chance to force himself on me. I had my little dagger ready, sheathed in my skirts in case he did. "I've escaped from worse," I sniffed at him. I was trying to calm down, because I knew that I really was in the wrong here, but it was as though my rage pushed past reason. "But thank you," I murmured, my words dripping with sarcasm, and just to drive the point home, I curtsied deeply and sloppily at him.
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Jun 29, 2010 1:18:14 GMT -5
"Oh Elua... don't flatter yourself." I said as I looked over her as she had looked over me. "If I wanted to bed some one I'd spend my money and get some one at least trained." I cocked a brow and looked at her; her appology was lost on me especially since I was sure it wasn't a true one. "Whats your name?" I asked finally, still trying to figure out where I knew her from.
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jun 29, 2010 13:32:34 GMT -5
He eyed me keenly, and for some odd reason, something about him seemed very vaguely familiar. Perhaps I had picked his pocket before without him noticing. The thought made me grin cockilly. But when he asked for my name I froze, glaring at him.
"You go first," I said, unsure of whether I had upset him to the point that he might report me to the authorities. "And then I will give mine," I mumbled, crossing my arms as I looked up at him with my steely gaze. I was releived though that he was not interested in finding a way to have his way twith me, even though a small part of me felt slighted, as though I was not good enough for him. Who did he think he was anyways. If my plan worked out, I would find that out soon enough.
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Jul 4, 2010 20:15:49 GMT -5
I furrowed my brows a little as I looked at her. "Ghislain de Trevalion." I replied simply as I looked at her. Gods I felt like I knew her, but where I couldn't place. She was attractive enough that it could be from anywhere that I knew her. "Alright, now your turn."
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jul 15, 2010 16:58:59 GMT -5
His name.... I knew his name, in fact I knew that face, though barely. Very barely. He was family. But I had to bite back that thought, and the smile that came to my lips at the recognition. That was from a different life, and I was sure with the look of disdain he gave me that he would not view me as family. My own brother had not, after all.
"Ghislain," I said with a bit more softness than I ought to have. "It is I... Essie... Estella de Cartier," I murmured. My voice was small, but, then again, I felt small at that moment... vulnerable.
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Jul 17, 2010 13:10:05 GMT -5
I knit my brows as I looked at her. "Cartier... I know that name." I said softly as I looked at her and pointed at her for a moment. "Cartier... Cartier.... Who is your mother?" I asked as I stepped forward.
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jul 17, 2010 13:21:48 GMT -5
Momma... I thought silently to myself, feeling my hands ball into fists as I made myself not tear up from her memory. I leared my throat and raised my head, tilting my chin up with pride.
"My mother was Lise de Cartier," I said, a little more strongly than I had spoken just moments before. I drew strength from her name, as she was a strong woman. Though I had no reason to feel that pride when I was the reason that that strength was not shining as a living light in this world.
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Jul 17, 2010 14:36:19 GMT -5
I knit my brows. "I knew it, your mother is my mother's cousin." I said softly as I looked at her. "What... what are you doing here?" I asked, even more bewildered as to what she was doing living on the streets.
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jul 18, 2010 7:08:41 GMT -5
"She was your mother's cousin," I said softly, looking away. "She has been in the Terre d'Ange Beyond for some time now," I sighed, bringing my gaze back to his. He was not ust asking me what I was doing here, in the City, like any other question. No, he was asking why I was in the City like this. I moved to run my fingers through my tangled locks, but knew it would do no good.
"Well, does not everyone wish to see the City of Elua?" I asked, tip-toeing around his real question with a fake smile.
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Jul 20, 2010 21:48:49 GMT -5
"Oh, I see." I said, knitting my brows a little as I looked at her and then down at my feet. After a moment of processing the information she told me and then her answer I looked up at her. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother." I said softly as I looked at her. "How did it happen if you don't mind me inquiring."
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Jul 22, 2010 11:33:18 GMT -5
He seemed to show a bit of sadness, which touched my heart, and of course, which unsettled me. I did not like feeling vulnerable. I hated it, despised it, spent too many years of my life in that sort of situation, feeling that same feeling.
"It happened when I was little," I explained. "They were on the way back home from picking up a present. It was to be my natale. From what we were told and what could be seen, they took a tumble into a ditch and were ransacked and ... and....," I could not finish the sentence. I took a deep breath, shutting my eyes tight, then let it out and opened them again. "Then they were murdered. Both my mother and my father."
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Post by Ghislain de Trevalion on Aug 19, 2010 15:42:04 GMT -5
"Oh." I simply said and swallowed as my knit my brows. "I'm so sorry." I offered gently. "What about your brother, didn't you have an older brother? Where's he?" She had to have more family then just her parents, people who would put her up and take care of her.
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Post by Estella de Cartier on Aug 30, 2010 11:50:24 GMT -5
He looked sincerely sorry for my bad fortune, and I nodded, hoping that the wetness of my eyes was not visible.
"Thank you," i wshipered. But at the mention of my brother, my ire rose, my cheeks heated, and I no doubt looked as angry as I felt inside at the topic of him.
"My brother...," I nearly spat the word, "is dead to me. I have no brother." I stated indefinitely, feeling the cold, hard exterior I had used to guard my heart and my emotions close shut again.
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