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Shayna's possible involvement with the Rujaro is suspected

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This lazy agricultural settlement rests on the swampy shores of the Middle Suvan at the delta of The Kenash River. The River's slow moving bayou waters have bred a different sort of people - rugged, cultured, and somewhat violent. Sprawling plantations of tobacco and cotton grow on the outskirts of the swamp in the rich Cyphrus soils, while the city itself curls around the bayou and spawns decadence and sins of all sorts. Life is slower in Kenash, but the lack of pace is made up for in the excesses of food and flesh in a city where drinking, debauchery, gambling, slavery, and overbearing plantation families dominate the landscape.

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Questions About Rujaro (Cecily Askara)

Postby Shayna on October 26th, 2013, 9:30 pm

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Time Stamp 51 Fall 513

The midday light was bright this Fall day, a little over half the season passed and the chill is a little more pronounced then before. A slight breeze stirred the air as the streets of Kenash were busy with the day's goings on. Though there was a hushed undertone, at least it seemed to the slave's ears as she moved quietly down the street. Just a few days ago some Rujaro were caught and summarily hanged, and then yesterday the ominous warning of the burned and broken wagon at the city gates had the freed people nervous, but also the slaves nervous. It did no good to no good to become Rujaro, for the punishment was high and after these events it seemed, at least to Shayna, as if the freed people were on edge. No, this did not bode well for the slaves who were not Rujaro, for the suspicion was always higher when those miserable cowards made their mischief.

Shayna had no love for those who ran off from their masters, for it just made her own life and goals harder and did not good for the runaways. In her mind they were simply too weak of mind to make the most of their circumstances, and took the cowards way out. So this day found her walking the streets, a basket of freshly picked herbs over her arm as she moved through the streets walking back toward BlackSugar Plantation to hang these for drying. The herbs were small, the last of the pitiful garden that Iora Mistress Katherine's simple minded Inarta servant had kept, and Shayna had no doubt that when the herbs she planted and tended came in Mistress Katherine will be well pleased.

Her thick black hair whose curls were tight and riotous, fought the simple band that the slave wound around a high ponytail to keep the thick mass off her neck and shoulders. Her face was average, sprinkled with freckles but marred with the slave brand of house Morealis, a triple pillar with a diamond over the top design on her cheek near her eye. The only two things that were remarkable about this slave is her short slim stature, and her green eyes whose irises were ringed with black to give her a wide-eyed look. However she enjoyed this, it meant that unless someone was specifically looking for her most never even noticed she was around.

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Shayna
Even slaves can prosper
 
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Joined roleplay: September 3rd, 2013, 9:09 pm
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Questions About Rujaro (Cecily Askara)

Postby Cecily Askara on October 27th, 2013, 4:33 pm

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Outside the expansive Home Sweet Askara, all was calm. Tree leaves rustled in the cool afternoon breeze, brought on by Fall's sudden but much anticipated arrival. The sunlight from a beautiful sun shone down from the sky, radiating it's murky beauty. Hot steam filtered throughout Cecily's white room, filling each crack and crevice with the stifling gas. The windows were flung open in a desperate attempt to escape the heat. The cool evening breeze whistled through the windowsill, helping a poor slave save himself from heat stroke. It seemed that as if Cecily had no sense of consciousness as she sat in her boiling bath water. She was oblivious to the rest of the world as she took these few precious moments to herself, some of the only time she got alone anymore.

Cecily sat up from her lounging position to gather up bubbles and blow them at the inattentive slave boy. He was young, maybe 19 or 20. She liked them this way.

"Hello?" she called in a sing-song voice. "More hot water. My bath is getting cold." she said in a more serious tone, being rude for no other reason than she wanted to. The slave boy jumped to a start. He looked to Cecily blankly, and then realizing what she had said, got up quickly to fetch more water from the stone hearth. Cecily rolled her eyes, already irritated.

"Oh, petch. Please don't tell me you're too busy thinking about a pathetic little slave girl when you should be doing your petching job."

"Oh, no, Miss Askara. It's just that-"

"And close that petching window," Cecily commanded, cutting off the slave's attempt to explain himself. "It's absolutely freezing in here." she added.

"Yes, master." the boy squeaked, wiping a drop of sweat beading by his brow as he dumped piping hot water into Cecily's bubbly water. The slave reluctantly closed the window, taking a deep breath of fresh air before closing off all ventilation.

After a few moments of soaking in the hot water, she could still sense the slave was thinking about something else. She decided to pry it out of him.

"You know, you can tell me anything. I'd like you to think of me as your crazy, beautiful, and young mother." she said, catching his attention. She smiled warmly. "So who is it? A girl... a boy? Ooh, maybe both?" she asked, chuckling.

"The Rujaro." he answered swiftly.

Her face turned much more serious, and she sat up in her bath, intrigued. "The Rujaro? Where? Who did you hear this from?" she pounded back quickly.

"Katherine Morealis's slave girl, a couple days back." In all honesty, it had almost been two weeks before he was informed of this, but he dare not admit that to Cecily. She'd have him whipped for not telling her sooner. "I don't know where they're at now, but I have a feeling that she does."

It was only a matter of an hour before Cecily hopped out of the bath, got presentable for town, and had an entourage of three other slave men to escort her. She was going to take matters into her own hands.

---


"What does she look like?" Cecily asked the slave, stature relaxed, but mind on the prowl. She and the three men were strolling down Dry Island's bustling stones. She was dressed in a fine silk gown, only looking like she was hitting up the town with some shopping.

The slave boy recollected her image in his mind. "She has black hair, green eyes, and she's quite short." he said back to her, in a hushed tone.

"Alright, then. Keep your eyes peeled."


OOCI wanted to give Shayna a choice of if she wanted to hide, run away, etc. I didn't want to God-mod! :)
She's crazy, though. I guess there's something wrong inside.
She's crazy, though. I guess she took control.
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Cecily Askara
Have my pie and eat it too.
 
Posts: 25
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Joined roleplay: August 24th, 2013, 3:11 am
Location: Kenash
Race: Human
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Plotnotes

Questions About Rujaro (Cecily Askara)

Postby Shayna on October 27th, 2013, 5:43 pm

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Traveling by herself, one might have expected the slave girl to be lost in her own thoughts but instead Shayna was keeping a careful eye on the people around her. Not because she was fearful or timid, on the contrary the slave had an odd sense of confidence one might not expect from someone born a slave. No, instead, she watches for any bit of information that might help her own position in life. In a city like Kenash intrigue and rumor ran the power mill almost as much as birth rights and family names, and if one knew the most information one had a good bit of power. Being a slave, power is not something Shayna expects ever to have but if her Mistress had that power, then the slave that delivered the information becomes valuable.

This is where her average appearance comes in handy, as people look for those who are out of place, but those who do not garner attention can hear or see many things. So Shayna walks the streets with her eyes ostentatiously on the ground before her, but out of the corners of her eyes she notes everything. The slave that gives his mistress a more lingering glance, the man who does not notice when a lovely woman presses against him apparently by accident but whose head turns when the delivery boy from a market passes, all are noted and stored in her mind.

So it is not a surprise when she comes across a lady dressed in silks and three male slaves, though Shayna does not pay her too much mind. She does not recognize the freeborn woman, though she does vaguely recall at least one of the slave faces. She does not generally remember slave names, for they so rarely could do more then pass on rumors to herself. Shifting her basket that held the cut herbs to her other arm, Shayna steps to the side, curving her neck in a calculated act of deference, intending on letting the woman with her slave boys to pass by.

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Shayna
Even slaves can prosper
 
Posts: 308
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Joined roleplay: September 3rd, 2013, 9:09 pm
Location: Kenash
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