working late into the night, exhausted, the way They prefer to keep me
Walking down the stairs, carefully looking over her
armful of laundry she crosses the living room and
through the kitchen to the utility room by the back door.
Her hair is up in a messy knot and she's in baggy
pajama bottoms and an old college t-shirt.
The bruise has gone and all that is left on her face
is a change of expression. One of loss, resignation.
She puts the laundry in and adds the soap cube and
starts the machine.
Back in the kitchen, she makes some tea. She hasn't
been sleeping and this has been just another night
of tossing and turning.
Waiting for the tea to steep, she goes to the back door
and stands before it for a few moments. What was once
an automatic action to pull the door open, is now
a hesitation of fear. A reactive pause of Who is out there!?Blowing out a breath, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear
and with an almost whimper she pulls the door open fast, her heart
racing as she looks cautiously out...
As much as she is afraid to open the door, an equal need to look
pushes her out the door to call for Walter. Lost now for two months.
WALTERR...walter?
there is a catch in her voice and it trails
away when there is no answering meow and tinkle of his collar bell.
She'd put it on him to give the birds a chance to hear him coming
so good where his stealthy hunting abilities.
Hearing a deafening silence, her eyes well up with tears
as she turns to shut the door, her fear as always in this ritual
now replaced with the pain of loss.
She turns her back and slides down with her back to the door,
putting her face in her hands.
Walking down the stairs, carefully looking over her
armful of laundry she crosses the living room and
through the kitchen to the utility room by the back door.
Her hair is up in a messy knot and she's in baggy
pajama bottoms and an old college t-shirt.
The bruise has gone and all that is left on her face
is a change of expression. One of loss, resignation.
She puts the laundry in and adds the soap cube and
starts the machine.
Back in the kitchen, she makes some tea. She hasn't
been sleeping and this has been just another night
of tossing and turning.
Waiting for the tea to steep, she goes to the back door
stands before it for a few moments. What was once
an automatic action to pull the door open, is now
a hesitation of fear. A reactive pause of Who is out there!?Blowing out a breath, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear
and with an almost whimper she pulls the door open fast, her heart
racing as she looks cautiously out...
As much as she is afraid to open the door, an equal need to look
pushes her out the door to call for Walter. Lost now for two months.
WALTERR...walter?
there is a catch in her voice and it trails
away when there is no answering meow and tinkle of his collar bell.
She'd put it on him to give the birds a chance to hear him coming
so good where his stealthy hunting abilities.
Hearing a deafening silence, her eyes well up with tears
as she turns to shut the door, her fear as always in this ritual
now replaced with the pain of loss.
She turns her back and slides down with her back to the door,
putting her face in her hands.
Walking down the stairs, carefully looking over her
armful of laundry she crosses the living room and
through the kitchen to the utility room by the back door.
Her hair is up in a messy knot and she's in baggy
pajama bottoms and an old college t-shirt.
The bruise has gone and all that is left on her face
is a change of expression. One of loss, resignation.
She puts the laundry in and adds the soap cube and
starts the machine.
Back in the kitchen, she makes some tea. She hasn't
been sleeping and this has been just another night
of tossing and turning.
Waiting for the tea to steep, she goes to the back door
stands before it for a few moments. What was once
an automatic action to pull the door open, is now
a hesitation of fear. A reactive pause of Who is out there!?Blowing out a breath, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear
and with an almost whimper she pulls the door open fast, her hear
racing as she looks cautiously out...
As much as she is afraid to open the door, an equal need to look
pushes her out the door to call for Walter. Lost now for two months.
WALTERR...walter? there is a catch in her voice and it trails
away when there is no answering meow and tinkle of his collar bell.
She'd put it on him to give the birds a chance to hear him coming
so good where his stealthy hunting abilities.
Hearing a deafening silence, her eyes well up with tears
as she turns to shut the door, her fear as always in this ritual
now replaced with the pain of loss.
She turns her back and slides down, putting her face in her hands.
Walking down the steps, carefully looking over her
armful of laundry she crosses the living room and
through the kitchen to the utility room by the back door.
Her hair is up in a messy knot and she's in baggy
pajama bottoms and an old college t-shirt.
The bruise has gone and all that is left on her face
is a change of expression. One of loss, resignation.
She puts the laundry in and adds the soap cube and
starts the machine.
Back in the kitchen, she makes some tea. She hasn't
been sleeping and this has been just another night
of tossing and turning.
Waiting for the tea to steep, she goes to the back door stands before it for a few moments. What was once
an automatic action to pull the door open, is now
a hesitation of fear. A reactive pause of Who is out there!?Blowing out a breath, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear
and with an almost whimper she pulls the door open fast, her hear
racing as she looks cautiously out...
As much as she is afraid to open the door, an equal need to look
pushes her out the door to call for Walter. Lost now for two months.
WALTERR...walter? there is a catch in her voice and it trails
away when there is no answering meow and tinkle of his collar bell.
She'd put it on him to give the birds a chance to hear him coming
so good where his stealthy hunting abilities.
Hearing a deafening silence, her eyes well up with tears
as she turns to shut the door, her fear as always in this ritual
now replaced with the pain of loss.
She turns her back and slides down, putting her face in her hands.
Tangled and torn, no escape from fate’s Red thread.
” Plans change Raider, to the new ship” words enough to have sent a cold chill of fright down Paesyn’s spine. The replay of them and the voice proceeding them brought about the shudder as she sat braced upon the ship bunk. Swallowing heavily and repeatedly, she would try to wet her parched throat. Her lips were sore, and she could taste the dried blood upon them as they were chapped and cracking. She’d had nothing to drink for ahns; she was thirsty, and her mouth was dry as a crumbled rence. The bota, having long been emptied, rested in a discarded crumple on the cabin floor that had been her last kindness, the water, and the bread and cheese; it had been a ploy, to lull, to distract as all the while he had been there to do this entire thing again, in a different way. The words repeating the same thing and expecting a different outcome came to mind while the ship pitched and rolled; the crashing of waves and the shuddering of the timbers matched her emotions.
This was insanity.
She needed her hair oiled and tended a bath; her stench was overwhelming; the cloistered dark cabin did not help; she wanted to gag or cover her nose to attempt to block it out. She wanted to cry, but that would not happen, at least not yet. Straightening her slender shoulders, refusing to show weakness, and refusing to break from the insanity of HIM, her fingers were bruised and sore from the tight hold to keep her from being tossed to the wood floor as the ship gave another shuddered roll and righted. The raging storm at sea seems to testify to the madness of her circumstances. She told herself she would be as brave as the askari who ran through her blood, leaving out the one who had betrayed her, something her heart had yet to grasp though her anger had. The golden eyes watching the door, the sense REDWOLF was close, fueled her anger, the one thing that would see her through this, taking strength from the ugly twisting emotion growing more alive with every ragged breath.
Hmmm wondering if you ask many questions about
what you take for pawn...
jumps out
e@vie has started a new game with the following players:
e@vie
e@vie has started a new game with the following players:
e@vie
in
moves on
I hope the wine is good today
looks here
hello Mistress
Takes a walk on the deck sipping some wine
enyah has started a new game with the following players:
enyah
Reloading dice from saved data.
Found data from roll: 1
[5,1,3,5,3]