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Post by oliviarose on Jun 27, 2011 19:22:54 GMT -6
And through the rising and falling apart, We discover who we are The holding cells were one of the worst places a person could find themselves in when it came to The Queen's precious fortress. Cold, damp and filled with the wailing of fellow prisoners it came second only to the chamber. Olivia had lost count of the amount of times she'd paced the box room over the last three days, lost count of the times she'd broke down in her corner and sobbed, lost count of the amount of times she questioned the guards for the reason she'd been put in there. What was her crime? What had she done that was so bad that had called for this? They never looked her in the eye nor gave her answers to her questions. They were faithful to their queen and were only following the orders she'd set but after all this time Olivia had thought better of them. Sat at the back of her cell she held her knees close to her chest, her chin on her knees and her tired eyes on the tiny barred square in the door. One of them would break soon surely? Spill their guts and give her answers? Her hope was fading fast. It couldn't have been her alliance with Pandora if it had been she'd have found herself chained up and beaten until her body hung limply and broken. No, this was something else, this was something that didn't justify death but locking up. At each sound of feet padding outside her door she raised her head only to lower it as a stone faced guard came into view; morning, noon and night they patrolled doors no man could ever break down let alone an eighteen year old girl.
Wiping her face into the soft fabric of her dress she realised how stewed she felt. Caged up like an animal the cells were stifling and the grim clung to each bead of sweat. The wailing started up again and she could only wonder what their crimes were: failure to pay taxes perhaps, aggressive behavior, stealing. All were petty crimes but crimes that earned nights locked up. They, the guards, had pulled her away from the room, handled her in a manner no woman should have to endure and dragged her down the corridors and staircases with expressionless faces. They'd treated her like a common criminal and, quite literally, tossed her in her prison with enough force to send her halfway across the floor. Their appology? A slam of the door and the sound of a lock going over and clicking into place. She attempted keeping spirits up, offered smiles at each face, remained positive but positivity was hard when one felt utterly helpless.
The door's lock clicked and she looked up as more light flooded into the room, eyes squinting slightly. Late morning or evening she wasn't sure but it was a meal, a meal she'd refuse to touch again, but the face bringing it was different. Her words came out as softly as ever yet cracked at the first word "E-Efrain?" Brown eyes adjusted as she looked over a friendly face, a face she never thought she'd see again, and she found herself overwhelmed with relief but with that came tears. Pulling herself on her feet she stepped forward "Am I free to leave?" If only she knew. |
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Post by efrain on Jun 28, 2011 0:04:28 GMT -6
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
Today was a rare day for Efrain. His mistress was busy in the temple, and she had given him the whole day away from the blood, even going so far as to order some other slaves to be on hand for taking care of the blood and body after. It gave him the whole afternoon to do little things, like tidy her room and bathing chamber, and take up the duty of feeding and checking up on Olivia in the holding cell.
He felt sorry for the poor girl, he truly did. She had helped him with salves to make him heal faster so his mistress could give him fresh lashes, and her gentle touch had not gone unnoticed. He had a tentative friendship with the girl, one of the few people he talked to other than Panthea herself. It was with thoughts of this friendship that he prepared the cold dinner in the kitchen, choosing meat, cheese, and breads that weren't spoiled, and a mug for water that was clean. To him, the simple meal was a feast. Not one fit for his beloved Dark Lady, but certainly enough to show respect for a friend.
As he made his way down to the special holding cell, he held his head high, as if he wasn't just a slave. Which he wasn't. He was Panthea's personal slave, and here on her orders. The guards here might shoot him dirty looks, but they didn't faze him. If his mistress ordered him hear, they couldn't say anything, and he knew they wouldn't dare bully him, even as small as he was. Serving your mistress to the best of your ability really paid off. No one stood against him while he did her bidding, it was a testament to how wonderful she was, how memorable the pain she inflicted on people was. With a glance and a nod, to one of the guards, they opened the door for him to step in, letting a lopsided rectangle of light into the small cell.
“Olivia,” He smiled as he greeted her. But the smile was short lived as she shook his head, the door clicking shut behind him. He knew it'd open when he knocked, so it didn't bother him as he knelt, setting the tray on the ground at her feet. “No, you can't leave.” He spoke softly, with slight compassion in his voice. Compassion was one of the tones he had learned from her. “You're to be kept here, and well fed, and untouched. Until the end of the month, she's saving you for a special time.” He gave another tentative smile, the one he always felt better when Panthea sent it his way. It wasn't the best smile to have, slightly twisted and not so kind, but to him, it was comforting, and he was sure it would help comfort his friend too.
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Post by oliviarose on Jul 1, 2011 16:50:12 GMT -6
And through the rising and falling apart, We discover who we are He didn't need to speak the door shutting answered for him but the smile was welcomed with one of her own. It felt good to hear someone else speak without shrieking and wailing accompanying it even if it was news she didn't want to hear. She didn't understand but knelt back down as he did and reached out to place a hand on his arm "if you know the reasons why, Efrain, please tell me what I've done wrong" warm eyes searched his for answers to her questions as he spoke and yet still she gained nothing from his words. What would happen at the end of the month? What use was she to Panthea? Why did the word untouched seem so important? And what in God's name was 'special time'? Panthea's idea of special wouldn't be what she would call special not even close. With the summer solstice festivities a month away she pondered if it was in relation to that but even then what could she have to do with it? The Queen had planned a grand feast for those who worked day and night at the fortress - something she had no intention of attending - and for those who had family and weren't a servant they were allowed to go home but she was baffled. Olivia glanced down at the tray the irony hitting her that she'd eat better now than she did before but the delicious food did nothing for stirring her hunger only the unease in her gut. Consumed by her own helplessness and exhausted she remained on her knees looking over the smile on his face; no comfort came from it. She looked down at the meal again and frowned. It sort of reminded her a little of the last meal of a condemned man. More frowning and a very clear drainage of colour in her face she whispered or rather mused out loud "tell me, if you can, am I to die here?" Livia looked at his face expecting her question to be laughed off but the Gods knew different.
Letting go of him she sat back on the ground not wanting a guard to poke his head in and think her actions different than what they were; the last thing she wanted or needed was one of them storming into the cell to push her back into her corner. Looking down into her lap she played absently with the ribbons crisscrossing down the front of her dress "does my father know? My family? Gaius..has he returned to full health?" A show of dedication to her job. Even stuck in the cell she still cared deeply for the heartbroken old man after all he'd really been the only constant form of comfort she'd had over the last few days. She didn't really like being alone here and while he was, for the most part, asleep there were the odd occasions he'd sit up in bed with a cup of warm milk and the pair would talk. They'd talk about the trivial things in life; the weather, future plans she had and he had during his youth, he'd talk of his wife and she'd tell him what she thought of when it came to love and what she dreamed of. He'd commented that she was one of few who still believed and she, in return, had told him that while hope was fading her dreams didn't. She still had every intention of finding someone who acted as both best friend and lover, someone she could fall hopelessly in love with; even if it was a childhood fantasy it was one she wasn't alone in dreaming about. Olivia missed it more than ever now cooped up in her cell "my apologies if I'm asking too much I'm sure you've been told to ignore me" bitterness leaked into her words as she made it very obvious who she'd been talking about when her eyes gazed up at the tiny window and the guard who stood with his back to it.
Picking up the mug of water she nodded a small thank you before taking a sip as her hands shook at the anticipation of having cool liquid saturate her dry throat. Looking over him again she leaned forward to place a hand on his cheek. He looked just as tired as she did or maybe it was the poor lighting that done it "it's good to see you."
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Post by efrain on Jul 8, 2011 12:31:28 GMT -6
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
“Oh, Livvy, you didn't do anything wrong.” Efrain did his best to speak softly, to show her he was there for her. He knelt beside her, holding one hand open to her, offering the only thing he could as comforting touch. He knew better than to hug her. He wasn't allowed to hug anyone, nor anyone allowed to hug him, with the exception of Panthea, but she never showed him that sort of affection. Her affection was in pats on the head, and allowing him to sleep at the foot of her bed. With other people, the most he ever did was holding hands, and then only briefly. Like when he said hello or goodbye to Olivia when she tended his wounds, he would give her hand a gentle squeeze in thanks. It comforted him, he had found, and so he offered it now, their simple sign of friendship.
He simply tilted his head at her question, thinking about what she asked, and thinking of the truthful answer. Thea hadn't told him not to tell, but he hadn't really heard any details, not exactly. Other than that she was being put in the cell, and wait until the dark queen was ready for her. “I... think you will. This is one of the special cells, no one gets put in here except for Mistress to use.” For the first time, something like sadness crossed his face as he fell silent, watching her carefully. She was part of a different world than he, even though they lived in the same place and spoke to each other on occasion. It was clear her life was different, knowing a father, being not property. He understood they had differences, even if they didn't quite make sense to him. It was clear she wanted to live, even if her death would please his mistress, and that confused him. He was trained and raised to be willing to do anything, even die at her command.
“Your father, I think he was told. As for your... family...” the word felt strange on his tongue, the concept still foreign to him as to what exactly it was. He had parents, yes, but born a slave and raised with the other slave children, he'd never had a family. “I don't know. But Gaius, is he the man in the hospital wing? I think he's the one that I heard saying he missed you talking to him. He looked...” it took Efrain a moment or two to remember the right word for the emotion. “Sad, I think..” He blinked a little, feeling strange having emotions that didn't have to do with Panthea. It was strange, unnatural to him, to feel this sad thing when he saw her looking so dirty, forlorn and bitter. She had smiled at him, but only briefly.
“Oh no. Mistress gave me chores to do, and one of them was check on you. She never said I couldn't talk. I've done my other work already, so I can be here for a while.” He smiled again, watching her drink the water. Even if he knew she'd most likely die, he liked to see her do something that would keep her alive, and keep her pretty. He closed his eyes for a moment at the hand on his cheek, leaning his face toward the gentle touch. “It's good to see you too. I, I think I miss you..” The words were hesitant and shy, an almost flush going to his cheeks. It was a new feeling, wanting someone to be where they were normally, even though it was Panthea that had ordered her away. If his mistress had ordered her here, it was right for her to be here. So why did some part of his mind tell him it wasn't?
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Post by oliviarose on Jul 9, 2011 11:40:59 GMT -6
And through the rising and falling apart, We discover who we are With a brief glance to his open hand she didn't think twice about placing her own in it. It was comforting - as it should've been - but it did nothing more for her. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know any better, he didn't know anything other than what she, Panthea, told him on a regular basis and she was no example to learn from. Cold as ice and hard as stone god knows what would've happened if she ever felt something other than hatred and malice. Olivia didn't hesitate for a moment when she wondered whether that was the point; to have them all as robots. No thought process, no spirit to defy her and most importantly no feelings to conflict them and upset their work. Their friendship wasn't easy, it never had been, and it certainly wouldn't be now. Tending to his wounds had always been a difficult task not because it was medically challenging but more so that when he flinched it was purely because they stung, when she flinched it was because seeing him so torn up upset her considerably. No human should ever have been treated in such a way; the horses in the stables were given the life of luxury compared to the others; compared to him. The Queen had always been especially brutal to the lanky lad and Liv honestly couldn't think of a reason why just suspected that there really wasn't a reason. Panthea didn't need a reason to be a tyrant but while she stopped after a time with the others she kept going with him and honestly? She'd probably still flog him on his death bed. A death bed she'd tuck him into with the work she placed on his shoulders. It was admirable that he could still manage to walk after a day of work let alone get up the following day to do it all over again and that wasn't including the work she'd toss at him throughout the day.
Olivia nodded her head slowly, trying to keep her emotions in check, keeping silence. It terrified her, quite frankly, in a way truth shouldn't but she knew deep down that she'd spend her last days in that holding cell without company or comfort. The next part hit her like a punch to the chest; her father knew and yet he hadn't come down? She didn't expect him to kick up a fuss but no contact? It hurt. Holding back her tears were no longer an option as her eyes welled up at the knowledge that not even her father would be near to support her. How easy life must've been as long as one had a glass, ice and lime, how easy it must be to forget your eldest daughter moments before life's curtain came down. Efrain continued to talk giving Olivia's world coming crashing down around her ears a soundtrack but while she acknowledged him speaking she couldn't make a single word out. Looking at him as his words drifted into one ear and out of the other she focused on the shapes his mouth made, the intricate curl of his lips, the way his smile was there but nothing to back it. She blinked at the word sad "sad" she repeated coming back to the world of the living. She felt sick, like all the air had been dragged out from her lungs, but her moments were private it seemed.
Swallowing she took another sip of water trying to give him the attention he deserved. Forcing a smile she gave his hand a squeeze "you're a good man, Efrain, and .." there was nothing she could do to show her gratitude, was there? Not really "it means so much that you would come down here" heaven knows it gave her the creeps. With her hand on his cheek she smiled; a smile and a show of affection was all she could give now but fortunately some people still appreciated it. Rubbing her thumb over his cheek for the shortest of times she nodded "I miss you too," she paused in thought; how much time exactly did she have left? Her faith had always given her hope and she smiled again, this time a little less sad more hopeful "perhaps we'll meet again, my friend, in fields of gold. " |
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Post by efrain on Jul 27, 2011 19:01:16 GMT -6
sugar we're going down swinging , [atrb=style, background: #373737; border: dashed #ffffff 4px; border-radius:50px 0px 50px 0px;] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border: dashed #ffffff 3px; width: 400px; height: 500px; float: left; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 25px;]
The feel of her hand on his cheek still felt so foreign to Efrain. It wouldn't matter how often she did it, trying to show him some humanity, it still felt strange to him. He was used to the harsh feel of a whip tearing into his skin, his only gentleness a pat on the head, if he was lucky. Unless his back was actually torn into. When it caused bleeding, he went to Olivia and she would sit there, and clean his wounds, and then her hands were gentle on his back.
She was the only person who was truly gentle with him, but he didn't see the importance of that, or rather, he didn't understand it. When she called him a good man, he knew, somehow, it meant something. He didn't know what, but it was important, and different than being called a “good boy” by Panthea. It just sounded different, the way she said it. Perhaps it was how heartfelt it was, or the way she squeezed his hand as she said it. He returned her smile, cataloging the phrase in the back of his mind. A good man, perhaps someday he'd learn what exactly it meant.
“Wouldn't want you to be alone, Olivia. Not here in the dark and damp.” If he had known her thoughts about her father, the way she worried, he would have told her how no one was supposed to come see her, how Panthea only let people with special permission come down here, and her father had asked and been refused. Her next words caught him off guard, her, miss him? It wasn't something he expected out of anyone, it wasn't something he had ever thought could happen with him. He was just a slave, yes he was Panthea's slave, but he didn't really matter. If and when he couldn't work, she would simply get a new slave, a stronger one, and he would most likely be killed. The thought didn't scare him, or put him off, it was just the way his life would be. Was he allowed to be missed by people? Or, for that matter, to miss people? He had never thought about it before, but he wouldn't ask Panthea about it. If he wasn't supposed to, she would let him know, one way or another.
Fields of gold, though, confused him more than that she missed him. The way she said it, he knew it had to be something nice, but what it was, he couldn't begin to imagine. “Fields of.. gold?” Gold he knew, gold was the color of the shiny things he wasn't allowed to touch or hold unless he was cleaning them, things that were meant for people that weren't him. “Why would I be in fields of gold? Miss Livvy, you I could see there, but Efrain, me, would I be allowed?” He tilted his head as he asked her. She looked so much happier talking about these things, these fields, whatever they were. Hopefully, Olivia would be able to tell him something about them.
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Post by oliviarose on Aug 1, 2011 18:29:43 GMT -6
And through the rising and falling apart, We discover who we are Olivia looked around the cell as he spoke of the damp and darkness "it's not so bad" the darkness never really bothered her nor the damp just the sounds coming from the other cells. Liv had barely made a sound while she'd be there only ever speaking when it came to questioning the guards or ruining their card games "the darkness is comforting in so many ways, Efrain, better to not see than to see where I am now" she wasn't really sure if she was making sense but it didn't matter. None of it did anymore. Her eyes moved back to him and her hand lowered back down into her lap once again "after all the sounds serve as a better reminder" she added as an afterthought as she picked her cup back up again. Taking another cautious sip she allowed the silence to set in purely because he was there, next to her, and she wanted to savour his company as much as she wanted to remember the feeling of water quenching her thirst. Everyone had different ideas on where they went when they died and it seemed Efrain was the same and yet different. He looked completely and utterly clueless as to what she was talking about. It was strange to see. Olivia's mother had told her as a small child about the now infamous fields after her grandfather passed over and her words, and the imagery they provoked, stayed rooted with Liv even now.
Putting the cup back down on the stone floor she nodded slowly "it's where we go when we die" she said simply keeping her eyes away from him. Death was not something she was comfortable with even when she worked so closely with it and such talk now knowing what she did of her fate still seemed inappropriate to bring up in a polite conversation nevertheless she didn't doubt that one day he'd be in the same position she was in and hopefully it could give him the same sort of hope for the afterlife "it's like the barely fields in the south when the suns high up in the sky and all you can see is the ripe tips. For miles all around and in the middle underneath the biggest tree waits your family and friends who have passed over; it's where I will be until it's time to meet my family again" it was hard for her to sound sad when she mentioned her family but every word was coated thickly with it "there is no exclusion in the afterlife, Efrain, not after we are judged and you, my dear friend, will be welcomed as a brother" looking at their hands a shadow of a smile appeared "but it will surely be a long time until that happens and until then I'll watch over you."
Looking back up at him she shook her words off with a gentle motion "but give it no thought until you have to; for all we know this war could end tomorrow and we'll have nothing to worry about." Thea be damned for what she did to people surely if the Gods cared they would've intervened by now? The world was nothing more than a board for the Gods to play on it seemed as time ticked on but light would win she believed that wholeheartedly. Panthea's numbers were small compared to that of her sister and while it was never wise to disregard the underdog the elder sister didn't have it in her to rule. Olivia had little knowledge of magic but she knew that it took it's toll on whoever used it's dark side and hopefully it would start sooner or later on the dark Queen. TAGS [EFRAIN], OUTFIT [ALBEIT DIRTY], WORDS [623 - THIS IS SUCH A SUCKY POST ._.] |
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