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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 11:52 am
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 12:01 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 12:21 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 12:27 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 12:59 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 1:03 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 1:11 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 1:32 pm
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"My name is Luckette, and it's a pleasure to meet you...?" Luckette stopped, realizing that she, too, had forgotten to ask for the man's name. This, too, was good in a sense. She now had extra fuel to keep the conversation running, didn't she? "Please excuse me, but what is your name again, sir?" she asked in turn, more focused on getting to know the face of her rescuer than looking to see where exactly they were going.
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 2:02 pm
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Arisa stoically did the dishes as was her regular duties within the castle, she had been hard at work, cleaning, gardening and the usual maid stuff. Arisa was one of the ones bound here that knew that she was dead, she remembered her death well and it still caused her suffering. Within the confinds of her wracked mind she relived the event over and over with her waking conscious. However, despite her hatred of the man who murdered her all those years ago, she found herself unwillling... or perhaps more accurately, incapable of actually stopping what she had done in life for so long. It was like she was watching her previous existance through a window, and not being able to control her own actions at times. She had become a rather cold persona the last few centuries...or however long she had been achored to this spot... when everyday blurred into the next and only the rising of the sun and moon told you that another day had passed you had little way of knowing for sure. With almost robotic automatronics, she placed a wet soapy dish on the dish-rack with a gentle, deep chim. Her dark eyes peered into the soapy water and they hardened conciderably, she hated water, she hated its texture, its feel.... everything, and yet she was lucky enough to be tormented everyday with dishes, watering the plants and mopping the floors. At least it made her more effecent in her chores, she got the stuff with the water done very quickly. She looked over her shoulder and tried to think of what Abigail was doing right now. She should be along soon to help with the meals, though it wasn't as though she was late or anything... at least not yet, still it was likely that Arisa was going to chew on her a little bit for being late because, by god, she needed to crab about something or she would explode. It wasn't as though she had any other means of being able to release her frustration at being alone and having to wait for someone who would never come. She had to face the reality that nobody was coming to save her from that b*****d Fredrick. She had put up with his advances in life, and was doom to do so after death. It was unfair, unfair and heartbreaking for her. So she did whatever she had to not to gain his notice when Abigail had grown a little stale for him and he wanted someone different to sasiate his urges. She had grown a layer of ice over her heart to protect it. Arisa rested the last dish in the rack before looking around again with her stoic face getting much more annoyed with every passing glance. Where was she? She should have been here by now. If Abigail made her do all the work in the kitchen again there would be cold leftover waiting for her for the next few weeks... granted she might as well do that, it wasn't like Abigail could eat or anything. Arisa's dark cloud grew even more when she let her imagination grow thinking about Abigail and her likely romping through whatever she was doing. But this point, Arisa was more beating the water off of the dishes with her bubbling mood.
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 5:16 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 5:50 pm
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While the grumbling Arisa was slaving away in the kitchen, Abigail, the other maid of the castle, was finishing up her own chores in the north tower. She liked to sing the old songs of her time while she worked, ones which her mother and father taught her centuries ago when she was alive and a little girl. Her clear toned voice rang out throughout the tower while she dusted and swept her last room for the day. Quite content with her work, Abigail left the room, and headed towards the kitchen. Still singing on her way, Arisa would hear the girl coming long before she got there. Abigail was quite fond of trying to make every moment as cheerful as she possibly could. If she must be stuck in this purgatory with the one man (well half of him anyway) that she despised, then she might as well enjoy it.
Abigail graced her way into the kitchen, find Arisa violently beating any impurities off the dishes. "Whoa careful there hun. If you brake a plate you might displease our master." Abigail paused for a moment, suddenly wearing a devilish grin. "Actually...on that thought...beat away. Break every plate if you must. What's the worst he can do? Kill us again?" Abigail giggled as she put away her cleaning things in the small broom closet in the kitchen. Abigail moved back over to Arisa, and picked up a towel to start drying the dishes as Arisa washed. "You know...it's too bad Cookie got to go to the afterlife after he died. I'd die all over again for some of his pastries." Abigail mentioned to Arisa, remembering the cook who worked at the castle when they were all alive.
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 6:01 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 6:21 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 6:46 pm
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The candles flickered faintly in the dark room, doing almost nothing to illuminate what had once been dubbed the 'throne room'. Banners marked with the royal emblem hung limply from the walls. Both these elements combined together to make the room look rather bleak; not depressed as one might think, simply blank and dismal. In essence, the room matched the only occupant perfectly.
Sitting toward the back and middle of the room, fully armored in an ornate chair of polished oak and seated on a silk cushion was Fredrick Brackengard. Obviously the most notable figure within the castle, for he was it's lord; and foremost of all...he was bored. The female servants in his service had long since begun to bore him, he couldn't be bother to even recall their names any longer. He could not remember the last time he'd laid eyes upon a youthful maiden, beautiful and pure. Caressed their soft skin, whispered sweet words into their ear...and been rejected.
Fredrick's right hand began to tighten upon the armrest of his throne, nearly causing the wood to splitter. No, there was little use in getting mad about it. They had paid the price for that mistake. If he could not hear their sweet screams of passion, then let it be wails of anguish, whimpering for him to make it stop...to end it. A smile flickered upon the lord's lips, but quickly vanished. Reminiscing had only managed to remind him of how truly, frightfully bored he was...
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 6:58 pm
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"Very well, Mr. Valren. Thank you very much for saving me. I'll have to find some way to repay the favor someday*." Luckette smiled ever so sweetly despite the scratches, the bruises, the wounds. She was simply happy to know that she'd live. That she'd not end her days in the filthy muck on the forest floor, suffering a devistating, humiliating end. Now, though, that it was established that she was no longer at death's clutches, she began wondering how well the healing process would go. Mentally, she was probably a wreck. Even remotely thinking of what brought her out into the forest to begin with made her want to have sobbing fits. Perhaps after an extended period of time with a nice book in her hands and some scented candles burning with sweet, comforting fragrance would do her much good. Perhaps if she were lucky, there would also be some satin cloth to run her fingers across or even to wear. Although Luckette doubted she'd get such luxuries, the thought alone was quite comforting.
*TO PERVERTED ANONS OUT THERE - this is not intended sexually. It is written in an entirely platonic sense, so pleasepleaseplease don't bring up any rule 34 ideas you've got going. Please and Thank You!
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