withered | roleplay

by **luna** Wed Feb 26, 2014 4:00 pm

Where the hell am I?

Oh God. Oh no.

by jaded Thu Feb 27, 2014 12:48 am

She was young. He knew that when he laid eyes on her, and while under any other circumstances he'd have turned his nose up at her, she was young, and time was everything. She had a good few years left of her, enough to have a few children, and that was all that mattered. To Sawyer and his father, at least. The family name—God bless it—couldn't die with he and his brother, conquered by the disease that couldn't be killed by an antidote. That girl, young though she was, would be part of the reason the Heronsby name lived on. Her age wouldn't matter in the big scheme of things. They'd be dead in five years, anyway. According to his father, it was best not to intrude or wake up the girl, rather, he should let her wake and find her way out on her own. Regardless, he hoped she did so soon. Sawyer was a man of meager patience.

-

To her credit, she knew she was a helluva lot smarter than the type of girl it took to let the man wake up first and leave. Before the memories of the night before flooded back, and before she had her bearinggs straight, she knew something wasn't right. Vivian Pyre was always gone before the other awoke. It was a rule of thumb—something she held fast to, and one of her only rules, at that. The others were reserved for what remained of her compromised morals. The dark-haired girl slid from the bed, which was oddly comfortable and a tad too luxurious for an average joe, and padded across the dark carpet to the window. Land stretched for miles, but not a city in sight. Then, she was back in the gray van, stubbornly refusing to cry even though most of those around her were, and she remembered. Right. The Pyre girl fumbled with the latch on the window and tried to open it, but no amount of strength she put into it rewarded her any results. She tried the door next, and scoffed when she found it locked from the outside. Trapped. Like some sort of caged animal. Growing furious and desperate, the girl plucked her shoe from the plush floor and launched it at the window, narrowing her brown eyes when it simply fell to the floor, the window unscathed. She glanced around for something a little heavier, but saw only a lamp, and figured that was probably some kind of indestructible, too. Infuriating. The knife in her back pocket was gone, as was everything else she had, and so she waited alongside the door emptyhanded and arms crossed, waiting for someone or something to open it.

by **luna** Thu Feb 27, 2014 6:14 pm

lived

I'm going to be one of those brides

filthy rich

by jaded Thu Feb 27, 2014 7:44 pm

Eventually, Sawyer grew sick of waiting. "Send her domestic up to get her. I think I heard running water, so she's up." He knew the gas made the girls sleep for several hours, but this long? The Heronby man knew better. The door was locked—she couldn't get out—and it wasn't like she was going to knock and cheerfully announce that she'd woken up.

The servant hurried off to find the girl's domestic, and he turned to look at his father. "I wanted to marry Cara." Still bitter over the loss of the woman he'd truly wanted as a wife, Sawyer licked his lips and tried to prevent himself from glaring at the older man. "Yes, but if you had, she'd be on her deathbed as we speak."

And somewhere out there, she was.

-

Vivian finally got tired of waiting, and started pacing the room. She didn't want to scream; that'd seem weak. She didn't want to knock; she didn't need to ask for permission. Her brown gaze settled on the lamp again, and in an effort to take out her frustrations and draw attention to the fact that she was awake and angry, she unplugged the lamp and hurled it at the wall, watching the pretty little glass object smash and fall to the floor in a pile of glittering, sharp debris.

If shattering glass didn't bring someone up to check out the situation and unlock the door, nothing would. The Pyre girl picked up the shoe she'd thrown earlier, her only weapon—if it could even be considered such. She should've known better than to do business with the man in the dark jacket. How had she not seen the grey shirt peeking out from beneath his overcoat until he was too close for her to fend off?

The Gatherer was actually rather smart, taking an approach no others had tried on her before, but just like not only the other Gatherers, but men in general, he was a pig. Weren't they all?

by **luna** Thu Feb 27, 2014 8:40 pm

"Hello, Maria"

"My name's Leila. I'm your domestic."

"Now come dear", dear?, "your fiance would like to see you."

"Oh no, no."

"Here"

Dear Gd, help me now.

"She has to be awake by now. Go retrieve her for me, please"

by jaded Thu Feb 27, 2014 9:37 pm

He didn't even knew her name. He just knew she'd been the best pick of the bunch, except, perhaps, for his brother's choice. She seemed rather young, too, though maybe a year or so older, and if Thomas hadn't taken her, he certainly would've. Probably vice versa, if he had to guess. Regardless, he'd made his choice, and his brother's girl wasn't up yet, either, which gave him some patience for his own girl. Maybe it wasn't just her. Maybe the other had reacted just the same.

"How old is she?" He asked his father, whose nose was stuck in a book about some old war neither he nor his brother had been alive to witness. "Fifteen. And Thomas's, sixteen." Each five years apart. Sawyer would die around the same time as his wife. However, he found no solace in that fact. Five years was hardly enough; he was a time bomb. It hardly seemed fair. In making mankind more or less immune to disease, their ancestors had robbed their children, grandchildren, and anyone who was unfortunate enough to come after of a future that lasted more than a measly twenty to twenty-five years.

Sickening. The twenty-year old straightened up a little when he thought he heard the elevator doors open, shooting a glance at his father.

-

The door opened shortly after, revealing a woman about her age, probably a servant. Vivian stood her ground, but didn't throw the shoe like she'd initially intended. "Your presence is requested downstairs." Of course. She was used to her "presence" being sought after. That "presence" and what all too often came with it was, unfortunately, how she made her living. "By whom?" The blonde had already drawn a dark blue dress and brown sandals from the closet, laying the garment on the bed and the sandals on the floor.

"By the House Governor, your fiancé." The girl stepped forward to help her out of the lace slip she hadn't realized she was wearing, but Vivian waved her away, saying, "I can dress myself just fine." Not a shy girl even without her experiences, the Pyre girl changed into the dress, if only for the sake of not walking around in what was basically lingerie.

Her anger hadn't dissipated; the servant girl hadn't brought her here, the man who wished to see her had, and she saw no point in taking her anger out prematurely on a girl who hadn't wronged her. So she pulled the sandals on and ran a hand through her hair, frowning slightly when the blonde ran a brush through it, and followed her out into the hallway, her eyes brown flames. "Don't worry about the lamp. That'll be cleaned up and replaced." She hadn't been, but Vivian said nothing, stepping into the elevator and glaring at the doors on the way down. When they opened, she trailed the girl into a large sitting room, her expression neutral for the time being.

by **luna** Thu Feb 27, 2014 11:18 pm

"Sir, this is Maria"

"She will be your wife."

"Hello"

"It's nice to meet you." No it's not.

bought

"Well hello there."

by jaded Thu Feb 27, 2014 11:59 pm

Sawyer plastered a smile on his face, taking in the sight of his bride and bringing her hand to his lips. "The pleasure is all mine, miss." Sort of. She wasn't a Cara—that was for sure—but she was rather pretty, even up close, which was something many girls tended to fall short on. Her blonde hair and blue eyes complemented each other, and he found he'd made a good choice.

His father would never let either of them have ugly wives. And looking at his elder brother's wife across the room, Sawyer knew he hadn't failed either of them. "I'm Sawyer, and this is my father, Housemaster Harrison." He gestured to his father, though he wasn't keen on the idea of staying so cheerful and proper, but supposed it was necessary—at least for a few days. "Shall I show you around?" His father had disappeared, and the twenty year old could only imagine that he had other, more important things to attend to.

*

The man was handsome, something she hadn't expected. Rich men who had to buy wives, she imagined, along with her usual customers, weren't very attractive. That was why they had to pay. But this man surely would've had his pick among better women than orphans and girls like her. Why, then, had he picked from a group of stragglers? The man smoothed his slacks and approached, and she held her ground, but pursed her lips slightly.

Did he think everything was okay? That she was dazzled, flattered, relieved? Ecstatic, maybe? She'd bet the idea that she might be angry hadn't even crossed his mind. "Hello," She offered no indication of being pissed, and none of being thrilled, figuring she should feel him out before she did anything major. Across the sitting room, another man appeared to be meeting a blonde girl. The other one that survived the Gatherers. "I'm assuming you're the House Governor?"

by **luna** Fri Feb 28, 2014 5:17 pm

"If it isn't too much of a bother, I would love it"

"Ah, yes. But you can call be Thomas. Thomas Heronby"

"I'm sure you're aware of this by now, but you are my wife. Or will be, at least."

"Now forgive me dear, but what is your name?"

by jaded Fri Feb 28, 2014 7:56 pm

Sawyer offered her his arm, and once she'd taken it, he lead her through the house, pointing out the different rooms. "That was the sitting room," He took her into a room down the hall, with a high ceiling and shelves that were so tall a ladder was needed to browse the selection at the very top. "Here's the library," He gave the girl some time to take it in before taking her into the elevator. The blond pressed the ground floor button, stepping back and directing his attention at his fiancé.

"You're very pretty." He reached out, sliding a strand of her blonde hair between his fingers. Women, he knew, loved flattery, especially the younger variety. Compliments were always the best way to win their affections, not that this one had much of a choice. "You'll make a fine wife." Or atleast, he hoped so. Otherwise, he'd have to get rid of her and his father would have to but another. He only had five years left; he had no time to waste on a stubborn young girl.

The doors opened and he stepped out, waiting for her to follow.

*

Vivian nodded, brown eyes drifting around the room instead of meeting his. She was too angry to respond. She was used to being bought, but she'd always had a choice in the matter. She'd gotten to pick and choose who she sold herself to, but now, the man had not only gotten what he'd wanted, but he'd made a profit, too. A marriage was too permanent; she didn't know Thomas Heronby, and didn't want to.

The Pyre girl figured she had no choice but to supply her name. "Vivian. Vivian Pyre," He called her dear and she resisted the urge to cringe. He didn't even know her name, and he was already acting like they'd been happily married for years. Vivian watched him with wild chocolate eyes, distrust mingling with hatred in their depth. This man had no idea what she'd been through just to see the light of the next day, but she couldn't help but feel outraged. She'd done everything she told herself she'd never do just to stay independent and free for the remainder of her short life, and the customer in gray and the man standing in front of her had ruined her efforts singlehandedly.

by **luna** Fri Feb 28, 2014 10:32 pm

"Thank you"

'fine wife'

"What a lovely name, Miss Vivian"

"It has been a delight to make your acquaintance, madame."

"Would you care for a tour of the estate?"

by jaded Sat Mar 01, 2014 12:07 am

He grinned down at her, taking her briefly through the kitchen. "Here's the kitchen, though you and the other wife won't be allowed on any floor other than your floor without an escort." Sawyer slipped a rule in as he went, pushing out the door and into the outside world of sunshine and explosions of color in the form of flowers and trees.

"The garden, which is probably the best part." For the women, anyway. He only liked it as a place to think, and there was a pool for swimming, but that was all the appeal the luxurious garden had to him. It was nice, but a bit too colorful for his liking most of the time. It tended to give him a headache. Even without knowing her at all, he had a feeling this, and maybe the library, would be his wife's favorite parts of the house. "Do you like it? It's pretty bright. But it's refreshing sometimes."

*

The girl watched him kiss her hand, seemingly imitating the other man's gestures in the hopes of getting her to be as compliant as the blonde girl. The entire ordeal seemed horribly fake; he was far too proper. She offered him a weak smile, lacking any real pleasure, and let her gaze fall to his shoulders. She wasn't going to be one of those wives that were perfectly content in the situation they'd been forced into. She hadn't given up so much, degraded herself so much, just to end up in another, more ultimately degrading and compromising situation.

The brunette stubbornly refused to take his arm, the fire in her brown eyes rekindling. "I think I can find my way on my own, thank you." The other couple and the Housemaster were gone, leaving the two completely alone in the huge sitting room. No longer pressured to behave in the presence of others, the Pyre girl took a step back. "A charming offer, and a charming estate, I'm sure, but I'm afraid I must decline."

by **luna** Sat Mar 01, 2014 1:14 am

"I love it"

"Nothing like this grows - grew at home."

"Where are we, exactly? Geographically, I mean"

"If you insist, miss"

"Just remember that you cannot go anywhere else on the estate without someone escorting you. Whether it be me or a servant of sorts - your domestic would work too."

by jaded Sat Mar 01, 2014 2:01 am

Sawyer watched her with undisguised interest as she approached a hedge and examined the pink bud with a gentleness only a girl her age could muster. He made a mental note to have a servant bring some of the flowers she seemed to like best up to her room later, figuring the more she liked him now, the better off he'd be later. "Where was home?" The Gatherers never bothered telling buyers names of the girls or where they were taken from; they probably didn't even know or care, and for good reason. Most were killed or sold into prostitution if not picked.

"Florida. Something tells me you've never come remotely close," The blond observed, a pleasant smirk on his face. Her awe was expected; most people who had never seen Florida before reacted that way their first time. He almost wished he hadn't been born there so that he could see what he was missing—what they saw. To him, the bright colors and exotic plants were normal, commonplace.

*

"Fair enough," The restriction was enough to make her consider joining him, but she realized she didn't care enough for the luxuries of her prison to walk around with a man who'd ruined everything she'd worked to have. The brunette stayed where she was, waiting for the man to say more or to walk away. His pride was probably wounded, but she couldn't find it in her to care except for the repercussions. Her pride was wounded every day for the first few months until she got used to things, but it was hard to be empathetic with a man who had forced her into a marriage and then seemed taken aback when she wasn't as enthusiastic as he wanted her to be.

"A domestic?" She cocked an eyebrow, thoroughly confused. "May I ask what you mean by that?" It sounded like some sort of house servant, possibly hers personally, but she had little interest in being waited on. Still, she waited for his response neutrally, as if she hadn't just rejected a walk with him within the first ten seconds of knowing him. Despite knowing what might happen because of it, Vivian Pyre was unapologetic.

by **luna** Sat Mar 01, 2014 2:15 pm

"Dallas . . . Texas"

"Everything there is either dead or dirt. This . . . this garden, at least, is everything I could've dreamed of it seems."

"I've never been away from home before."

"How old are, exactly?"

"Oh that's right. My apologies, madam"

"Your domestic is like a servant, but she will help you specifically with dressing, doing your hair - things like that."

young

by jaded Sat Mar 01, 2014 6:48 pm

"You're a long way from home," The man murmured, stepping closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm glad you like it," He drew her closer still, trying to get her used to being close to him. He'd heard of wives who had blatantly refused to have any relations with their husbands, and he was determined not to let the girl—Maria—be one of those brides.

No bride of his would refuse him.

"I have, briefly." Sometimes, when he and his elder brother were younger, their father often took them up the coast to the beach. Other than that, he couldn't say he'd ventured very far, either. "I'm twenty. How old are you?" Five years left to pass on a legacy with this girl. Their hourglasses were running out.

*

"I can do those things myself." Vivian said evenly, keen on keeping her independence if she couldn't keep her grip on much else. She didn't need a domestic to help her do ordinary, common things. Some of the brides might've been petty enough to enjoy being waited on hand and foot, but the Pyre girl had lived sixteen years doing such things herself, and she intended to keep it that way.

She hoped the man before her didn't plan on trying anything, even though she knew he probably did. The reason rich men bought young brides was for one purpose alone: having children. She wanted no hand in bringing in another generation with a short, quick, and unfulfilling lifespan, and had no interest in carrying a child that belonged to a man she already despised. All of the pretty clothes and soft carpets in the world couldn't convince her to let him touch her, and she was determined to hold to that promise.

by **luna** Sat Mar 01, 2014 8:55 pm

"Fif-fifteen"

"I'm quite sure you are, miss. They also do tailoring and make you new clothes so I wouldn't dismiss them too quickly; that closet won't last you your whole time here."

by jaded Sat Mar 01, 2014 10:12 pm

He felt the small girl tense beneath his arm, and loosened his grip on her just a tad. "Did I frighten you?" He'd expected as much, but was hardly bothered. It was probably a lot harder for a young girl to come to terms with the marriage than for him, who was only concerned with having kids and enjoying himself before he died.

They'd die around the same time. Odds are, he'd go first. "Are you alright?" The man's brow furrowed slightly when he looked down at her, figuring he should feign concern to gain her trust. She obviously wasn't alright, but there wasn't much he could do for her.

*

Vivian stared back defiantly, her chocolate eyes ablaze. Contrary to what her previous occupation implied, she was nowhere near easy. She'd done everything out of necessity, and now that she wasn't in danger of starving, the brunette didn't plan on returning to her old habits. They'd either put a bullet through her head or sell her back into prostitution if her fiancé had a problem with it, and she supposed she'd go down with what was left of her dignity or take up her old lifestyle if they sent her back.

"I'm not a material girl. Had a very... simple lifestyle. Nomadic, almost." The Pyre girl said vaguely, evading his assumption that the promise of new clothes would appeal to her. Granted, she wouldn't turn down the domestic's help, but she didn't need it. There was a type of smirk on the man's face that said she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, but she ignored it.

by **luna** Sat Mar 01, 2014 11:48 pm

[list][list]

"I-I-I'm fine"

"I'm just tired, that's all."

A lie.

"Are you now?"

by jaded Sun Mar 02, 2014 12:46 am

"You must be hungry. You haven't eaten since you got here." The man thought aloud, letting his arm slip from around her. He offered her his arm again and once she'd taken it, he walked her back the way they'd come and into the kitchen. Sawyer gave a few brief orders to the nearest servant to havw a sort of brunch set up in the garden, and the boy left at once.

He was hungry himself, he realized. He, his brother, and his father had all been too concerned with the girls upstairs waking to remember to eat. The blond took his fiancé back into the garden and led her to a table, pulling out a chair for her and taking the one across from her. Not long after, the servant brought the food, and he grinned over at the girl. "I'm starving."

*

"Nomadic? Hardly, since I can't go anywhere worthwhile without an escort." Her brown eyes narrowed in a sort of accusation, but her face returned to its neutral expression soon after. "How much did I cost?" The words rolled off her tongue in a sort insult, her eyebrows raised. Her outrage was evident and she made no move to hide it.

"What's the cost of a short human life, Thomas?" She pressed bitterly, clenching her fists to stop herself from throwing something like she'd done the lamp upstairs.

by **luna** Sun Mar 02, 2014 1:10 am

gentle

"Everything looks wonderful. Thank you"

Everything

"It cost as much as any other. You know the money I-we paid wasn't for your life, but for the Gatherers."

by jaded Sun Mar 02, 2014 1:29 am

He doubted she'd had anything remotely similar to the food he'd had prepared for her back home. It didn't seem like she had any idea that the luxurious mansions with their colorful gardens and gourmet food were real, and not merely created to be shown on TV. All of it—the wives, the Gatherers—everything was extremely, incredibly real, and she'd probably never dreamed of getting sucked into it.

But really, she was lucky. When—if—she ever looked past the obvious losses, like being taken from home and never seeing her family again, she might see how fortunate she was. She was in better condition than the majority of people in the country, and unlike so many that were Gathered and killed or sold into prostitution, she'd come out virtually unscathed. And, depending on which way she looked at it, she got to marry him.

That last part was a joke, only thrown in as a way to humor himself. Marrying him was nothing special, just as marrying her was nothing special. Sawyer only wanted to marry and have children for his father's sake.

*

"I know exactly what you paid for, and that particular Gatherer got exactly what he worked for, I promise you." She snarled, "And I know they only get paid for the girls that get selected. The rest, they sell to whore houses or slaughter. Or have their way with them, even. But don't even try telling me you only paid them for their efforts." She wasn't a naive girl in the least; she hadn't had the chance to be. "How much, Thomas?" She knew how much it cost to have a woman for a night, but for the rest of one's life? That was an entirely different story.

by **luna** Sun Mar 02, 2014 3:18 pm

"Do you eat like this everyday?"

hell

"I pity you thinking that I would ever tell you your worth, no matter how low it actually is"

by jaded Sun Mar 02, 2014 4:41 pm

She seemed eager to try everything, and he briefly wondered what it felt like to not have what he had. Sawyer had never known hardship, or anything close to it. He'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and that same spoon remained in his mouth—and would—until the day he died. "Why, ofcourse. You will, too." If there was one thing other than the garden he knew his wife would enjoy, it would be the food.

*

"I must be worth a lot, considering you chose me. Or are you implying that your standards are just that low?" His outburst was a double-sided sword. His green eyes were alive with anger, and she knew she was treading on thin ice. Sawyer's girl seemed younger, which made her worth more, but Vivian was stronger, and more likely to survive a childbirth gone awry. A small girl like her might not be ready to carry a child. She, unwilling as she was, was worth something despite being four years from death.

by **luna** Sun Mar 02, 2014 5:53 pm

"You want to talk about low standards? I'm not the one who was selling myself, dear"

Sawyer gets all the good things.

"So you may want to look inside yourself before you start point fingers at others."

by Sponsored content

withered | roleplay

withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay

Re: withered | roleplay