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| They Will Be Skeletons | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 26 2017, 07:42 AM (203 Views) | |
| vexedBubble | Sep 26 2017, 07:42 AM Post #1 |
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Ghoul
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It was routine. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. Sometimes if she was lucky, Alida could have more than one meal per day. Rations were tight between her and the other girls, she saw the others as weaker, they needed food more. She settled for the one. It could barely even be considered a meal, a bunch of rice and some jerky or leftover meat, but it kept them going. Their work was more mentally draining, unless it was a particularly bad day, so they never asked for a more hearty feed. Sometimes when one of the girls got sick she could eat a little more, before the girl was replaced, which was unsettlingly quick. Sleep was usually interrupted, never comfortable. It had always been that way, she was used to it, but she was always tired. Alida’s bed was a pile of old hay and a blanket. In the colder months she got a second blanket and the girls huddled together to stay warm. She was often woken in the middle of the night for work, maybe achieving 3 or 4 hours of sleep at a time, but it was normal. It was all normal. And had been since she was young, too young to count how many years she had lived. Too young know why they had kidnapped her. She didn’t get paid in bonds or hides for her work. She was paid with the honour of life. If you could call it an honour after 18 years of slavery. Do you believe that living is a prize if you've been told your entire life you're worth nothing? With words, with spit, with bruises, with blood, sweat, and tears. Maybe escape from life is the prize. Alida sure deserved it. BANG The rickety door swung open and collided with the wired fence. A whimper echoed softly from the new girls as the man walked into the pen. Alida held her arms tightly around a small, blonde girl, whose tears soaked the blanket they rested in. She didn't speak, none of them did, and the man's boots shot fear into their hearts as he walked. It’s Tuesday, she thought. Tuesday is when Robert comes and takes Linn, John takes Anna, and the Boss takes me. “Linn. Come.” his voice was harsh, and they could all smell the liquor on his breath. Linn limped forward, still sore from the day before. He grabbed her arm and they left. Alida stroked the blonde girl's hair. “It's okay, it'll be okay.” she repeated quietly. She had seen girls come and go, sometimes boys too, and she believed wholeheartedly that this child would not last. She was smart enough to know not to say that. This girl had no back bone and had been crying for a week straight. The men wouldn’t like that. She will be tossed to the wolves. Alida sighed. Her long, brown hair hung over her shoulders. Her muscles ached. She readjusted the girl so she lay in her lap, and she arched her back, every single vertebrae cracking and resonating off the walls. She blinked. Her eyes, not focusing on anything in particular, had adjusted to the low lighting and she could make out the clusters of other bodies, maybe fifteen of them together. “It will be okay.” BANG The door swung open again and a hiss rang through the room as the fluorescent lights flickered on. Alida blinked again, squinting her eyes shut, open, shut, open. It had been too long since that light was on. She was surprised it still worked. Hands gripped her hair as she was yanked up and she could all but yelp in surprise. “Grab Ginger. Take Keira too.” it was the Boss. His voice was different, more rushed than usual. Panicked, even. The poor blonde was kicked aside as Alida was pulled up, the blanket falling from bare skin. “Good god man, they’re not going to take them like this. Clean the girls up. Get them some damn clothes. A fucking loincloth will do I don’t care. Hurry!” She was dragged through the door with the other girls and up the wooden steps, her ankles painfully hitting splinters and nails. She knew not to fight back, and looked up to the men who had grabbed her. They didn’t even give her a second glance. This wasn’t right. Well, none of it was right. This? This was unusual. This wasn’t routine. “Careful of the merchandise, dumbass. We’re getting a good deal for them.” Ah. |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| vexedBubble | Oct 25 2017, 07:30 PM Post #2 |
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Ghoul
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Her skin burnt. Her eyes burnt. Her lungs burnt. With a deep breath, a soft smile spread across her face. The sun hurt, but it felt better than anything she had felt in years. The air was so dry her lips cracked, her mouth slowly filling with the metallic taste of blood. Her body rocked as the cart rumbled across the desert, her eyes slowly opening, seeing nothing. Seeing white. ba-bump The caravan’s wheel jumped as it knocked a rock on the road. Alida reached out quickly to stable herself but her arms halted as her chains tugged against the hook they were attached to. She was flung forward, but didn’t fall. A strong arm held her back. “Careful, darlin’,” a gruff voice mumbled next to her, “don’t hurt ya’self.” Her head snapped to the man and she squinted at him, her eyes slowly adjusting. She could make out the vague figure, larger than her, maybe a beard? She studied his face intently until she could finally meet his eyes. There was only sound of wooden wheels along dirt and the clanging of chains as the man’s face softened. “Stop glarin’, it’s not a good look on ya.” he huffed. His skin was dark and dry, cracked, almost like leather. Alida felt like she was melting, slick with sweat, rolling her eyes as she felt beads of salt drip down her forehead. She cleared her throat, licking her lips and mumbling back. “We there yet? I can feel myself blistering.” “Ask again and we’ll turn around.” he snapped back. She slunk back onto the seat. These men were already a lot nicer than the previous owners, though more ‘to-the-point’ which she supposed was a good thing. She hunched over, lifting her hand as much to her face as possible and awkwardly scratched her nose. The man stifled a laugh. “You’re awfully okay with all this.” “Have been my whole life. You lot seem like some of the better ones. I can act surprised, if you’re into that.” she shook her head slightly, scrunching her nose and relaxing. Her mousy hair fell in her eyes and she glanced at the man. He chuckled to himself. “Go on then.” he nodded at her, and she turned away before quickly snapping her head back with wide eyes, an open mouth, and a sarcastic gasp. He swiftly reached forward before she had a chance to move out of the way and grabbed her teeth, pulling her lower jaw down. Alida let out a squeal at the sudden pain. His fingers crept over her tongue to the back of her throat, causing her to gag. He raised a disappointed eyebrow. “Gonna have ta train you outta that banter.” He pulled her head down further and she choked again. “And outta that gag reflex.” The remainder of the journey was silent, aside from the wheels on the road and some grumbles of other men. Alida, rocking slightly, had drifted to sleep. Though uncomfortable in her chains and sweating like a pig, it was one of the best sleeps she’d had in months. She knew not of what lay ahead of her nor how long she would have to make it though before faltering, or blossoming, again. This was the second time she had been sold. The first were her kidnappers who found no clients for girls her age. She wasn't worth the money they had to spend on keeping her alive. They almost decided to throw her to the dogs before a man named Duggan came for her. He paid well for the child, branded her as his own, and kept her for years. Alida had yet to discover why Duggan had sold her off. She had always thought she was the favourite, as she was the oldest and had stayed there the longest out of all the girls. Had he just grown bored of her? Frowning, Alida felt guilt. Had she done something wrong? Was she no longer good enough? Was she a waste of his time? Troubled by these thoughts, she woke to the cart coming to a stop. Looking around, it was dark, stars speckled the heavens, and she could see better than ever. It was a small town, and in the far distance she could make out the large ruined buildings of a city. One of the men grabbed Alida roughly by the arm, hauling her up. She hadn’t noticed her chains were already loose. When did they release them? While she was sleeping? He threw her off the cart into the arms of the bearded man she had sat next to. The landing was rough. “You’re lighter than you look. Tell the boss extra meals for this one!” he yelled over his shoulder, receiving a couple grunts in return. She looked around and saw the other two carts slowly pulling into the town. Each cart was lead by a Brahmiluff, who snorted, shaking their heads. A woman with long hair tied in a messy bun at the top of her head walked out of the darkness and up to one of the animals, stroking its head softly and cooing into its ears. She was dressed in heavy clothing, unusual for such a hot environment, but not a bead of sweat touched her skin. Her eyes were closed in tranquility, calming the beasts and releasing them from the cart. As she lead the animals back to what Alida assumed were the stables, she turned to face the slave. The eye contact was jarring. Alida could see the woman’s face was permanently pulled into a snarl with a large scar running up over her lip and cheek, and her eyes looked tired. Her mouth slowly opened and she breathed in sharply, as if to say something important. Alida was dragged away before she found out what that something was. |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| vexedBubble | Nov 8 2017, 01:38 AM Post #3 |
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Ghoul
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"One Two Three F-Four," breathe in breathe out "Five Six Se-seven Eight Nine T-Ten." again |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| vexedBubble | Nov 14 2017, 04:08 AM Post #4 |
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Ghoul
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The echo of falling water bounced effortlessly off the metal walls in the tiny room. It dripped from a rusted pipe in the ceiling, down to a small puddle, slowly. She counted the drips. Pausing to breath between the initial drop, the echos, and the drop to follow. She was cold, her skin almost blue and bubbled with goose bumps, hair standing on end. She was doing all she could to keep her teeth from chattering. If they chattered, she wouldn’t be able to hear the drops. If she couldn’t hear the drops, she couldn’t count. If she couldn’t count… She wouldn’t stay sane. A soft breeze howled through a gap in the wall and she shivered, whimpering slightly at the sudden sound. Her forehead rested on her knees, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, curling into a fetal position. She was in the far corner of the small room, the only light was the slivered gap between the bolted door and the wall. She shied away from that light. She didn’t want to be seen. Or acknowledged. Or touched. She knew that she was not the luckiest person alive. She knew she was in a terrible situation, but nothing could have prepared her for this. Alida knew that these men were different, but she had assumed better than she could have imagined. They were the worst she’d ever seen. They attempted to erase her branding, which resulted in too much blood and pain for a feasible recovery, and more injuries to her wrists and legs as they tried to hold her down. This also gave her the nickname “Brandy”. They only use that name when talking to each other, of course. To her face it was “slut”, “whore”, “bitch”, and more. They gave her little food, far less than she already ate, and she had become skeletal. Her long hair had been cut viciously while she was being almost torn apart by three men, and finally she was kept in such a small room she sat in her own waste. They gave her the honour of a bath before a session, but the water wasn’t clean and smelt worse than she ever did. Alida had kept above her upbringing for so long but now she wanted to die. Her body was giving up on her, she had no energy to stand on her own. Her mind was lost, terrified of her prison, terrified of what was outside, and so very tempted to leave when the Angel of Death greeted her with open arms. One thing was keeping her on this dreadful, poisoned Earth. The woman with the snarled scar. The one who kept to the stables and the farms. The only person who seemed to care. Alida had never spoken to her, but on the few occasions they had made eye contact she could see in this woman’s eyes empathy. She so desperately wanted to talk to this woman, wanted her on her side. Alida’s heart ached when she thought of her, her stomach flipped. This woman, Alida thought, was her salvation. And that was keeping her alive. Keeping her counting the drips from the pipe. Her bones pulsed with pain and she could no longer cry. Through the days of abuse in her tiny cell. Through the nights of abuse in their beds. She kept counting. Counting on something that she had no right to believe in. Scarlette. |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| vexedBubble | Dec 6 2017, 09:38 PM Post #5 |
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Ghoul
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The table was not formally set but had plates filled with food and cups filled with beer. The seats were empty. Scarlette set down the last glass and poured the last of the beer. She stood straight and admired her work, nodding to herself. She turned to leave, and with slight of hand, two bread rolls and an apple slipped into a sling she made out of her skirt. Tucking the end of the fabric into her belt, she left. She had been stealing food this way for months, and the men never noticed. Once out of the hall, and across to the stables, she ran her fingers through some of her dusky hair and brushed it out of her face. She reached for the bread rolls and held it in her mouth so her hands were free to push open the heavy wooden stable doors. She chewed slowly, the roll not nearly as nice as it could have been, but it was more than she usually received. She needed to savour it. Soon the apple left her makeshift bag and she bit into that too. The juicey, sour taste burst into her mouth, she had to resist the urge to swallow, before pulling the piece out of her mouth. She had made it to the pen that the Brahmiluffs were kept. She stroked one head while allowing the other to eat from her hand. Breathing in, then out, she was calm. Once the apple was finished she retired to the hammock at the back of the barn, swinging herself gently as she fiddled with the apple core. She could hear the men roaring with laughter as they ate their meal, drank their beer. They sang and she hummed along, waiting patiently for them to pass out. Scarlette’s eyes flickered open slowly. From a hole in the roof, she could see the stars. She shook her head in disapproval for herself and quickly stood, checking the second bread roll was still in her skirt, and walked swiftly out of the stables. Her footsteps echoed over the cracked desert floor, but she walked with purpose. Glancing at the dinner table, still covered in plates and leftover food scattered with flies, she rolled her eyes. She’d have to deal with that later. For now, she headed around the main building, snoring from inside echoing through the gaps in the wood, and soon arrived at a cellar door sunken into the ground. She tied her hair into a messy bun at the base of her neck and huffed, hauling the doors open. Gently and quietly, she lent the door on the ground, descending down the cement steps. Down the steep stairs, there were empty cages. Further along the hallway, the cages became metal cells. Finally, Scarlette stopped in front of the only occupied cell and tilted her head slightly. drip drip drip She pulled on the small knob in the centre of the door and opened a small window, looking in to see a curled up body. She knocked on the door softly. Alida’s head snapped to the window, her eyes red and skin sunken. She had fear in her eyes, which softened slightly in recognition of who was waking her. The two shared a silence. A bread roll was thrown into the room and the window closed, footsteps echoing away from the cell. Alida struggled to stand before her legs buckled beneath her and she called out in a raspy voice, clawing herself up the door. “W-Wait! Please come back! Please!” she begged. Silence. The footsteps returned and the window opened again. Scarlette’s eyes appeared and she raised an eyebrow. “Please. Please get me out of here. I can’t do this alone I need to get out, please.” She only received a shrug and a small, awkward, smile in response. “What? What does that mean!?” a small shake of the head. More silence. “You can’t talk?” Scarlette shook her head again and closed her eyes and sighed. She held a fist to her chest and circled clockwise slowly, before moving her fists to either side of her, thumbs out, and ducked them down and back up. The window closed and the footsteps rushed away. Alida pounded her fist against the door and cried out in frustration, collapsing at the bottom of the door. She heard the cellar gate close with an echoing thud. Her eyes drifted to the bread roll, slowly soaking in the damp floor. |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| vexedBubble | Dec 27 2017, 10:04 PM Post #6 |
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Ghoul
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There was a time between their first conversation and their last that Alida was happy. She was not well feed and she barely had a roof over her head, but she was happy. It was strange to her, feeling so warm in the chest, her arms floating beside her, and the corners of her lips turning up into the smallest smile. She closed her eyes and let her head hang back over the metal bench on which she lay, her short hair nowhere near close to dragging on the wet concrete ground. Her chest rose slowly as she breathed in. Everything was calm and everything was quiet. The dripping had stopped. The distant echoes of the cellar door opening and light footsteps travelling towards her cell stirred Alida from her resting place. Her body tensed as the footsteps grew closer, and as they reached her door there was two quick knocks followed by two slow ones. Alida relaxed and Scarlette slid open the window. This was their new routine. Every couple of nights Scarlette would bring her leftover food from the men’s feast and they would converse as best they could. Alida had lost track of how long she had been down underground, it had probably been weeks if not months by now, and her body was battered and bruised. Scarlette tapped at the door again to get her attention. Alida, slowly standing, shuffled herself over to the window, taking the scraps from Scarlette’s hand and eating them slowly. “I keep hearing the men talk about Jackson,” she whispered between mouthfuls, “he sounds like more of a shithead than them.” Scarlette shook her head with a sad look. “He’s not?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head again. She stepped back from the window and frowned, making a stabbing motion with her arm and pointing directly at Alida, running her finger across her own throat. “I’d die? I don’t understand.” Scarlette sighed. “I’m sorry.” The woman walked back up to the window and smiled slightly in an attempt to comfort. She wagged her finger in front of Alida’s face, frowning at the same time. “I...won’t go hear Jackson.” A nod. “Okay.” The two shared a silence. Alida wasn’t sure if this was a friendship, she’d never really had friends, but it was a positive experience she shared with another. As close to friends as one could get when you’re stuck behind bars. Eventually Scarlette nodded gently to Alida and shut the window, leaving the hallway and shutting the cellar door behind her. Alida returned to her corner and sat down on the cold floor. ~~~ Three more visits with Scarlette passed without incident. The food she brought was giving Alida something to look forward to, something to keep holding on to. She knew the men did not have specific times they wanted her, unlike her last owners, and that would throw her into a daze for hours before she was able to ground herself again. Each time they dragged her out of the cell she would try and take in as much of the camp as possible, but it was always during the day so the sharp contrast between the dark of her prison and the desert reflecting the sun gave her a harsh headache. As Scarlette nodded her goodbye, leaving once more up the metal steps of the cellar, the basement door was thrown open with a loud CLANG. Alida, not seeing exactly what had happened but knowing that Scarlette was nowhere near the door, held her breath and backed herself to the far corner of the cell. Silence. “What. The fuck. Are you doing?” a husky voice echoed down the hallway. A sudden gasp of breath and a grunt of pain cut through the silence as the man grabbed Scarlette by her hair and tossed her into the closest wall. He held her there with his hand on her throat, pulling her away just an inch before slamming her into the metal. “If I so much as see you looking in this direction, I will personally make sure you never see again. Get the girl.” More footsteps came running and the cell door was kicked open. Two men grabbed Alida by the arms and dragged her out, her struggling no match for the muscled beasts pulling her up the steps and out into the desert. She desperately looked around but Scarlette had already been sent running. Her hair was pulled back and she screamed in pain as they hoisted her up over a shoulder. She kicked and punched and cried. An old piece of cloth was stuffed into her mouth and another tied around her head to stop her from shouting. It tasted like piss and she gagged, which only made her tears run faster. All too soon she was thrown hard onto the wooden floor of the boss’ room, immediately standing and trying to rip the gag from her mouth, but was greeted with a backhand to her face. It rattled her brain and she stumbled over her feet, falling to the ground again. Someone grabbed her feet and pulled her along the ground. She could feel splinters piercing her skin. They tied her feet together and as she looked down they grabbed her wrists and fastened them to her ankles. A strong hand grabbed her upper arm and moved her into the closet, slamming the door behind her. The rough scrapping of a heavy desk was pushed in front of the door. Alida, having to pull her shoulders together as much as possible, barely fit. She tried to adjust herself but was unable to move in her current state. She could hear yelling outside the room, and a smashing of glass. This was not my fault. She thought to herself, scrunching her eyes closed. This is not my fault. This is… This is her fault. |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| vexedBubble | Jan 23 2018, 10:37 PM Post #7 |
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Ghoul
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Her stomach growled and she dry heaved. What little there was in her stomach had long since been thrown up with bile. Her body shivered and beads of sweat clung her hair to her face. She was so thirsty. So hungry. She sat in a puddle of her own waste, soaking into the wooden floor boards. Alida drifted in and out of consciousness. Barely awake for minutes before exhaustion set in and she passed out again. It had only been two days. Two days where her body had cramped so much that when they dragged the desk away from the cupboard and opened the door, she fell in the same position she had been in for hours. “Ugh, fuck, Boss!” the man who opened the door stepped back and covered his nose. “Smells like death in ‘ere.” There was a grunt and another man entered the room. “Huh, almost forgot the bitch was in there.” “Oh you didn’t notice the fucking smell?” “Does it LOOK like I fucking care about the fucking smell, Arrow? No. She fucking uh, started leaking into the room. That’s the line.” the Boss crossed his arms over his chest as his buddy shook his head in disbelief. “Besides, she’s been too much trouble anyway. No fun. Finally got rid of that mute whore too, ‘bout time we had a change of scenery.” Alida didn’t move. She didn’t know if she couldn’t move or if she just didn’t want to, and she was too physically and mentally worn down to even try. She stirred slightly at the mention of Scarlette, what anger and hurt she held for the woman had already passed within the first hour of her punishment. She couldn’t remember much after that. One of the men leant down and clumsily cut her restraints, her skin sliced open at the same time and dark red blood poured onto the floor. “Oh fuck, shit… Boss! She’s bleedin’!” she twitched slightly at the pain and her breathing quickened, her body still shaking. The Boss gave out a loud sigh and swore under his breath. “Just...ugh. I don’t care. Just get some clothes on her, chuck her into the cart and move. Drop off is at noon. We miss that we’re fucked.” She was hauled up onto her feet, but immediately fell back to the floor, unable to stand on her own. The man, Arrow, groaned loudly in frustration and picked her up, grabbing a pair of old shorts and a linen cloth from the bed before bringing her outside. They placed her down and poured water over her body which made Alida gasp and cry out in pain. The water wasn’t clean but it was cleaner than she was and it did the job of rinsing her off. They dressed her and even gave her something to drink, which she threw up. They shoved some stale bread into her arms and kept a can of water next to her as she was pulled up into the caravan. Alida glanced around as best she could in her state, glad for the fabric cover over the cart, but quickly became nauseous as the cart began to move. She struggled to keep her eyes on the horizon, on something still, but she was drawn to the body hanging from the barn. It was a woman, with long dark hair, and a scar over her face. On any other day Alida may have been disgusted and angry. Today, she was too sick to feel anything. ~~~ Time passed slowly as the cart rumbled across the desert. Alida had made her way through most of the bread, and the entire can of water. Her energy was slowly returning to her, but she was still so tired. She came to realise that she was the only one in the back of the caravan. There were two men manning reigns, and she was glad for the silence. Occasionally she was stirred from her sleep as the men spoke about “that there rock lookin’ like a dog” or “i need ta piss pull over”. She just laid down, staring at the underside of the canopy, her body still aching and her heart still sore from the recent events. The sun was high in the sky and the cart slowed for the final time. Alida could hear murmurs of the two men who delivered her and then the group she was being passed onto, but not of what they were saying. She was moved and placed in handcuffs and a collar, and packed into a smaller cart with a couple other girls. None of them looked up as she entered. They all seemed as fragile and her. One had tears falling from her eyes but made no sound. Alida had been there, to the same mental low as this girl, but that was years ago. Now? She was well past that point. She didn’t even blink when the drivers mentioned Jackson. Alida, shaking her head, stifled a laugh. The other girls turned to her with disgust. That only made her giggle more. Of course they locked her away. Of course they killed Scarlette. Of course she was being sent to Jackson. What little luck she had, had run out long ago. She gave herself a week. Her last week. She would put up with this cart. She would put up with these girls. She would pray and hope. If nothing changed, she would end it her way |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| vexedBubble | Feb 7 2018, 01:10 AM Post #8 |
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Ghoul
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The girls uttered no words. In fact, none of them had spoken throughout the entire journey. They adjusted their collars, uncomfortable in the metal, and shuffled to make room everytime a new girl joined. They were all the same. They whimpered when the cart hit a rock on the road and cried when the men pulled over for a break, fearing they would come and take them. The men never showed their faces, they were only being paid for transport and apparently had no interest in the cargo. It was entirely different from almost everyone else that they had met. Alida sat in the middle of the cart facing the road behind them. The sun was still bright, though closer to the horizon now, and she almost blinded herself staring into it. Her eyes hurt and she tucked her knees under her chin and held her body close. Shutting her body off from the world gave her some comfort. Her stomach growled loudly and startled a couple of the girls next to her but she didn’t care. She never finished the bread her owners gave her, and she hadn’t eaten much in the past few days. Alida felt like her insides were twisting around each other, tensing and pulsing in pain. She rested her forehead against her knees, looking away from the road and closing her eyes, trying to ignore how hungry she was. It was only minutes before she drifted to sleep. BANG The cart took a sharp turn and the girls were tossed into each other. Alida woke to the stars and the moon high above, the drivers yelling about being followed, and the screams of the other girls. She had nothing to brace herself against as the cart veered in the other direction. She scrambled up as best she could, looking out to see the road far behind them, dead trees and bush obscuring the area. BANG One of the drivers screamed in pain and fell to the ground. As the cart rumbled over his body, the wooden wheel gave out. Alida watched almost in slow motion as they were thrown into the air, the tarp covering the cargo bed blown off, and five people on horses rode quickly towards them. They crashed to the ground, the cart landing on its side as it skidded across the dirt. The girls all covered their heads as best they could until everything went still. BANG………….BANG BANG More gunshots. Alida struggled through the pile of bodies, dragging herself towards the tarp of the truck and peered through. The people on horses had surrounded them. The lack of noise front of the cart she assumed both drivers were dead and whatever it was that was pulling them had either been released or were shot dead too. “Make sure the cargo is safe.” a low voice grumbled. She felt the air tense. Someone jumped to the ground and began to make their way closer to the cart. They all held their breath. A clean, soft face soon appeared at the back of the cargo bed, peering in slowly, and looked about. He seemed young. “There's way more than ten of ‘em boss!” “Shit. Tex, run back to base and get a something to fix that cart. And start getting them out of there, we gotta get these girls home.” The boy looked away, nodded, then turned back to the girls. He smiled gently, extending a hand. “We’re not here to hurt you. C’mon. Let’s clean y’all up.” Gingerly, one by one, the girls began to pull themselves up and climb out of the wreckage. They were ushered away from the chaos as the boy and a couple others began to work at the restraints. Alida, one of the last to leave the cart and covered in grazes, looked around. They were all incredibly gentle, as if scared to hurt the girls. It didn’t take long for them all to grow comfortable and feel safe. The young boy walked slowly up to Alida and she turned to him, staring into his eyes. He might’ve been about the same age, her height. He took her hand, she flinched, he unlocked her cuffs and collar. For the first time in months, she genuinely felt happy. They were soon piled back into the caravan, on horses, or in smaller carts so that they were comfortably spaced, and the group headed towards a camp with several tents around a small fire. They were fed, surprisingly well, had their wounds patched up, and as the wastelanders laughed and shared stories, they were told that this group had been waiting to ambush the caravan before they crossed the border. They hated slavers and basically preached that these girls would be brought home. It was so strange, but every girl joined in and they were all having fun. Alida even laughed out loud with the group, she would’ve danced around the fire if she had more strength. The party came to its end and as the group of girls retired to one of the tents, Alida looked to the stars. They were beautiful. “So...beautiful.” her heart skipped a beat. Slowly, her head turned to the voice. A young girl, much younger than her, was tripping over her feet. Drugged out of her mind. She could tell, she remembered what it was like. The girl was being lead into the main tent, followed by the young boy that unlocked their chains. They laughed at her. Alida held her breath. They were the same. They were all the same. She couldn’t trust anyone. She couldn’t stay here. Alida slipped from her tent at dawn. She found the men’s clothes they had just thrown about during the celebration. She searched their jackets and found a knife, gathered leftover food into a sack. The sun was rising quicker than she expected and she swore under her breath, quickly tying the her ‘new’ boots, and turning South. Just before she set off, something glinted into her eyes. Alida, treading carefully, snuck towards the main tent. A single rifle rested against one of the nearby trees. Her feet kicked up dust as she ran. The gun jumped against her back. Her hand gripping the bag of food so hard her knuckles turned white. She never looked back. |
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| Alida Brandy | Lvl 1 | "a mix of zooey deschanel and the entirety of ww1" - Fom | S:3(-1) P:8(+1) E:7 C:8 I:4 A:6(-1) L:3 | Hungry like the Wolf! - stat adjustments for 2 solos/tags | +75 N'awlins | | Pipe Rifle | Switchblade | Flintlock | | Denizen of the Dark | Sex Appeal | Fast Learner | | Mór-Ríoghain | Lvl 1 | | S:4 P:8 E:8 C:4 I:5 A:3 L:8 | | Hatchet | Handmade Bow (with arrows) | | Hunter | Creep | | |
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| Funkifan | Mar 2 2018, 12:03 PM Post #9 |
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The Cobras' Leader
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So Vex, apologies for taking so long to write a proper review of the story. I have been busier than I expected with school, and I hadn't had the chance to sit down and properly tell you my honest opinion about your writing. Won't lie. I think that this, from a narrative and storytelling standpoint, is an amazing piece. And I am certainly looking forward to seeing more of your writing with Alida, and in general, on the Wastes. They Will Be Skeletons is one of the deepest stories that I have seen on the Wastes, and it carries a lot of weight both emotionally and mentally. I think that the roleplay truly shines when it comes to Alida's inner thoughts that she experiences through the roleplay, and how her views slowly begin to change after what she has to endure. Beginning hopeful, even feeling remorse after being sold, wishing to escape and finally be free, to feeling happy as Scarlette continues to interact with her, to finally submitting to suicide being her only escape, after her murder, guilt once more taking over her, this time. You also tell a lot from few interactions and elaborate even more on thoughts. I can see how you utilize her Perception, for example, when she catches the way the men keeping her later on calling her, while she is not around, or how her Endurance maintains her alive, even though all the abuse. There is a perceptible change in her overall, a growth, not precisely for good, but a growth nonetheless, and I honestly praise you for that. I haven't seen such subtle, yet visible growth on many characters, and although it is short, it is handled well. The descriptors you utilize are on point and help to paint a vivid picture on the mind of the reader, be it the environment or setting in which the action is happening, yet it is far more noticeable with characters, and that helps to expand on them, and make them feel even more real. To be honest, I have very few things to point out. I perceived no grammar mistakes, although I kind of felt that the dialogue between Arrow and the Boss was a little clunky. It feels a little robotic on my opinion, but again, wasn't something too distracting from the general piece. The third post still perplexes me. I had to read it several times, but I still have trouble wrapping my head around it and the meaning behind it. I will assume that it has to do with the man's suggestion of "training" Alida. Just wanted to point that out, as I don't find it really an issue. What I still don't quite get is who are the men who bought and kept Alida for such a long time. The way you mention the setting, the several empty cages and cells hint that they are more than some minor slavers. They were part of a greater operation, but I wonder, what exactly is that? Do you have any plans for it? This solo gave me more questions than answers, at least concerning the men that kept Alida, and those that "saved" her. And I think that was my biggest observation about the story, overall. Finally, I have to admit that it was hard for me at times to read the story, because of how mature the themes it carries are. They are not pretty themes, nor you once ever try to lighten them up, which I don't think its a bad thing, but at least for me, made reading a little hard. That said, your approach to the slavery and the abuse undertaken by Alida and the other slaves was honest and were properly tackled. You were respectful, too, and that is one of the most difficult things to achieve when writing a story with harsh realities such as this. It was a hard to process story, but I still found that it was an interesting read, for portraying the madness of the Wasteland, and the cruelty on it. Not many people are respectful of themes like this, and while in the Wastes I find that doesn't hold true, it is pretty difficult to manage a solo based around that, properly. Yet you did. Masterfully done. Now, on with the rewards. The night is cold, twinkling stars shining above, silently, and million of miles away from Earth. The wind howls on, yet, overhead, a strange visage can be seen. Next to the wreck of a car, a Pre-War skeleton rests. On its body, you can find a beautiful dress, although it has been tattered by the climate, and perhaps, for whatever got this person first. The back of the car is spacious enough to accomodate Alida perfectly, even giving her some space left. The seats still have some filling, and seem like they can provide some comfort for some restful sleep. The forward part of the car seems sunken, like if something heavy fell over it, cristal littering the front seats. Yet there are no more clues as to what happened. The floor is littered with all sorts of crushed boxes, paper and a couple empty bottles of water. Yet, between the rubble and the debis, you can find a few gems... Like a postcard from the city of New Orleans, crumpled on the seat. Spoiler: click to toggle
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Edgar Algae -HC- SPECIAL: 3-5-7-8-6-7-4 Level: 4 Edgar is a tall, attractive man, with red bright hair, green eyes, and tan skin, due to his Hispanic heritage. He currently wears a yellow t-shirt, with cargo shorts, a Leather Jacket (Tier 2, Good CON, plus on intimidation checks). Attached to his left wrist, he possesses an Automedical Assistant. On his back, he carries an XL Rucksack, that contains several items of his', like a Medical armored Suitcase, filled with all sorts of medical equipment. His weapon of choice is the Study Group Special, a modified mini-zapper. He is Good Natured, Spongey, and has Sex Appeal (For the girls) +120 BT Reputation; +90 Nawlins Reputation | |
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