Solo Waking Up

Rosela wakes up from a sudden coma to find herself alone and pregnant in a very different Riverfall.

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:13 pm

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Timestamp: 70th – 75th of Fall

OOC :
Two points:

1) In keeping with the current events of Riverfall, significant personality changes occur in this thread.

2) The purpose of this thread is to explain my OOC absence in regards to what was happening with Rosela. A simple 'she was travelling' excuse was a bit boring for me, so I went for something more exciting.


The first thing she remembered feeling was an uncomfortable nudging on her stomach, like fingertips pushing gently on the skin. It pushed once lightly, then again, harder. After a moment, it was gone and the darkness descended again.

On the occasions that she could see, vision consisted mostly of shifting shadows; a face, the flickering flame of a candle. The moments were all too fleeting.

Something hard moved down her throat, accepted by her body without protest. Something warm passed down through it, and she could feel it move comfortingly down her esophagus and into her stomach. Her stomach felt heavy. That feeling stayed.

Her eyes were open now, just enough to make out a pale face in front of her. The woman – she felt with certainty that it was female – was speaking to her. She wanted to remember the woman’s name, but the thought brought with it the horrible knowledge that there was much she could not remember.

A cerulean haze drew up out of the darkness and hovered before her, a row of white teeth splitting the field of color, making her violently uncomfortable. Her heavy stomach turned and she retreated gratefully to the darkness.

“…Rosela…”

The word caught in her consciousness like a hook and pulled her to the surface. She knew that word. It was her name.

Like pieces to a puzzle, consciousness patched itself together and memories became clearer. Her shop came to her mind often and she could see the clothes, the shelves, and the walls as clearly as if she were there herself. Her home did not come for some time though – was it days or hours?

Where was she? And why?

She remembered a dark night that felt like only the night before, and pain. Oh, horrible, blinding pain, then cold, cold water filling her nose and mouth, and then nothing. Only flashes in the dark, the warm trickle down the back of her throat, and the gentle presses against her stomach.

The first time she consciously opened her eyes, she could only see the plain, white ceiling. It was a victory though, she could feel that. Sheets were warm beneath her, and the tang of disinfectant stung her nose. Her hair was sticking to her forehead and the back of her neck. Movement to her left, and her slitted eyes struggled to track it. It was a woman, a Konti, carrying a basin. The woman stopped when their eyes met and broke into a wide, shocked smile – a movement Rosela could not even consider returning.

”What…” Rosela’s voice escaped from her throat like a puff of sand, grating and weak.

“Easy now, you’ll probably be a bit raw from the feeding tube. Let’s try some water first.” She set the basin down with a thump outside of Rosela’s limited range of vision and a white cloth appeared in front of her face. The cloth entered her mouth and, suddenly parched, she sucked with strength that surprised herself. The water was euphoria on her throat. “You know,” the woman continued. “I’m more than a little surprised to see you awake. We could see you drifting in and out, but nobody expected-“ A slight tickle turned into a hard cough, and the cloth immediately withdrew. “Easy now, it’s been a while since you swallowed on your own.”

Rosela’s body wracked with coughs, and one hand drew up on instinct to her mouth. The rest moved tremblingly to her stomach, to ease the weight that pressed there, made worse by the coughing. Fingertips touched exposed skin, protruding out further than it should. She could feel the woman next to her freeze and it only fed her own panic. She was wrong; something about her body was wrong.

“Now just relax, stay calm…” Her words were not calm and as her weight lifted from the bed, Rosela could hear her shuffle away with hurried whispers.

With an effort that felt as though she were moving a mountain, she lifted her head to peer down the length of her body. A plain, cream shirt, six arms and…a belly. A monstrous, bloated belly rising up in the part between her shirt and pants. Her hands were the first to begin trembling, but it spread to her arms and shoulders by the time she managed to place each of her hands on her swollen abdomen. It was hard and felt sickeningly unnatural. What did they put in her? Her heavy breath became keening cries as she stared down at her own, alien flesh.

What did they put in her?
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Last edited by Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:15 pm

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She didn’t realize there were other people in the room until she felt hands stronger than her own take her wrists and pull them away from her stomach. A cool hand laid across her forehead and pushed her back down, moving the horrible bulge out of sight. Still, every heaving breath moved the weight up and down and she could not still herself. Words babbled around her and she picked up on a single one, as much a hook on her consciousness as her own name had been:

Oathmaster.

She knew that word, she knew it well enough that its utterance brought a deathly cold still over her. Oathmaster. Nakivaks. …Pregnancy. Her stomach…this thing in her stomach was…

Attempting to push to her side, she didn’t quite make it and was lucky the first heave produced only a wretched belch. A metal pan materialized in front of her face and it seemed like a hundred hands shifted her onto her side. There wasn’t much in her stomach, despite its size, but what little was there emptied nonetheless and the sobs came soon after. Darkness began to close in again.

She remembered rinsing her mouth and curling up around her flat pillow, surrounded by her sweat-soaked, lifeless hair, but she did not see the room empty, nor a single man enter and sit solemnly in a chair next to her. When her eyes slowly slid open again, they focused with effort on the man sitting at her bedside. She didn’t know his face, but her brain was not yet so far gone that she couldn’t guess who he was.

“Good afternoon, Rosela.” His voice was smooth and clear. “I suspect you’re feeling a little disoriented, so allow me to ask you a few questions to see where you’re at. Do you know where you are?”

Despite all logic, Rosela couldn’t help but feel more at ease with this man. His calm confidence made her want to believe he had everything in hand, that he would make it better. ”G-gilia…” Her voice was gravelly, but stronger than before.

“Correct, you are at the Healing Center. Do you know the day? Or just the season, let’s start there.”

“Summer.” For the first time, she felt she had a handle on at least one thing.

“I’m sorry, it’s actually Fall. The 70th, to be precise.”

The stability she’d gained immediately dropped. All of summer was gone? And nearly all of fall? Her immediate response, conditioned into her after years at the helm of her shop, was to wonder where on Mizahar she was going to find the time to get ready for her winter line. ”How…?” Her voice was quiet and mousy again, desperate for a lifeline of sanity.

“You suffered a massive trauma to the head and subsequently fell into the bay,” he said with quiet nonchalance. “You were pulled from the water before you drowned, but you’ve been in a coma ever since. Gilia Healing Center has provided you with the best care.” He paused to stare at her, and Rosela had the feeling he was trying to be comforting. It was an odd change from the stern man she’d always heard him to be.

”Mass…massive trauma?”

“You were attacked by an unknown assailant. It’s not really my place to ask, but do your remember anything about that night?”

Rosela frowned and furrowed her brow. All she had were flashes. ”No, nothing. I was just walking and…” Thinking about it seemed to summon the pain and she briefly raised a hand to her head.

Don’t strain yourself. The Kuvay’nas investigated at the time but did not turn up anything. They will likely be by to talk to you now that you are awake. You should…” He hesitated and glanced at the door before lowering his voice. “You should take care when talking to them. Strange things are happening in the city, and they are not to be trusted.”

Rosela blinked slowly at him, still uncomprehending. Not trust the Kuvay’nas? It was inconceivable; their very purpose was to be trusted. However, the Oathmaster did not elaborate on his cryptic warning, and instead resumed his normal tone.

“When you were brought in, it became clear that you would not survive without continuing medical treatment.” Rosela closed her eyes and looked away. She knew the terrible climax was coming. She knew she could not have been pregnant before the…accident. This thing came after. While she was unconscious. “As unfortunate as it is to put a price tag on healing, medical treatment for the comatose is extremely expensive, requiring 24-bell care. I understand you are a business leader in the city, but the cost would have likely still been too great.” She felt his hand come to rest gently on her shoulder. She twitched, but did not have the energy to shake him off. Everything in her didn’t want to hear it. “I was approached by an interested Talvis who alerted me to your situation. As Oathmaster, I chose to save your life at the cost of requiring you to create another.”

Tears streamed down Rosela’s face, squeezed out through eyes clenched shut. It was all so hideously sterile, as though it happened every day. Perhaps it did. So many seasons ago, those women who had thrown up such a fuss about the Nakivak system, Rosela had scorned them along with much of the city. What if she hadn’t? She never considered that she might be caught in the system herself. Her fists clenched weakly, and she flung out the wrist with her hard-won Kuvan tattoo for him to see. ”You had no…right…” The words were squeezed out with as much fury as her abused throat could muster. She saw with horror the gold band, the symbol of a taken Nakivak, now encircled her wrist over the tattoo.

He sighed sadly, his breath a warm breeze against her face. “You would have died. A decision had to be made.”

A decision. A decision to allow some strange man to violate her while she lay helpless and unaware in a healing center. ”I wish you had let me…” Her voice was high and miserable as the words devolved into sobs. Her Kuvan-marked arm, the mark that had failed to protect her, heaved up to cover her face as she attempted to turn away. She was destroyed. This thing was in her now. A man, some man, any man she may have passed on the street or seen in her shop, had come and…

The Oathmaster said no more for several chimes, and after another gentle squeeze on her shoulder, stood and left.

NPC Use :
The Oathmaster is used as briefly as possible here, simply to explain her situation. A formal thread negotiating her terms is forthcoming.

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Last edited by Rosela on November 20th, 2014, 4:54 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:16 pm

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“The shadows told you.” His voice was flat and uninterested, incensing Rosela. The Akalak, a Kuvay’nas, lowered his head as he looked at her. Rosela wanted to have been comforted by him, but she felt only repulsed. He wouldn’t stop looking at her stomach and the envy in his eyes made her want to hurl. The Kuvay’nas were supposed to be protectors, weren’t they? This one felt no different than a common thug and her skin crawled as he stepped forward.

She swallowed heavily and nodded. ”I’m, I’m marked by Akajia. The shadows watch out for me.”

“And they told you the man who attacked you was an Eypharian.”

”Only that he had four arms, but you can assume from that.”

He hummed quietly, looking her up and down.

”Why don’t you start with interviewing that scum who-“ Again, unwilling to give voice to the act, she simply flashed her gold undan, her lips twisted into a bitter grimace.

His eyes snapped up to hers irritably and she flinched with the horrible certainty that he was about to smack her. “He was already interviewed after coming forward as your Talvis. He has a firm alibi and no motive.”

”Motive? What do you call this?!” Anger giving her strength, Rosela gestured abruptly to her belly.

“There’s no reason to suggest why he couldn’t have gotten a Nakivak in a more…traditional way. He heard of your condition from a friend and from what I’m told, saved your life. You should be more grateful.” Rosela threw him a look of utter disgust but he only sneered back. “Don’t give me that look. If you’d done your duty as a woman and been a Nakivak earlier-“

“Time for your – oh!” A nurse walked in obliviously and halted when she saw the Kuvay’nas in the room. Rosela could see the fear in her eyes even from the bed.

”Are you done?” Rosela snarled.

He looked back at her and the base fear of being struck returned. “For now.” With a cocky strut, he left.

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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:16 pm

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The world was upside-down and it terrified her. The Oathmaster was a single kind fixture in her life; the Kuvay’nas terrified her and Gilia’s supposedly excellent healers were stern and miserable to be around. The nurses were entirely hit-or-miss, with a few being sweet, but many being uniterested, or worse, cruel. Even Courlut, her sweet butler, had only responded after repeated pleading messages to bring a few of her effects and had informed her coldly that he’d already taken payment for his time from her miza chest. In return, she tearfully informed him that she would be calling the locksmith and he was to not set foot in her home again.

In a fit of hysterical fear, she considered that Courlut might have been the one who’d…taken her. It was only after confessing her fear to one of the nurses that she was informed that the man who had once been her sweet butler was not her Talvis. That one was a deep cerulean in color, and had a broad jaw and strong nose. In an attempt to make her feel better, the nurse confessed that the man was fairly good looking, but the idea only sent Rosela sobbing. Nevermind his looks, she had been violated; the words repeated endlessly in her head and brought her continuously back to tears.

Days passed while she lay in bed, refusing food until she couldn’t take the hunger. It took a visit from the Oathmaster to remind her that her life was no longer her own to take; her ears were deaf to an appeal to the life of her unborn child, and even the threat of imprisonment was not enough to move her. She’d nearly been murdered, the Kuvay’nas didn’t care, and now she was host to an invading creature in her belly. It was only after he reluctantly brought up the valid point that she had a debt to repay and the city would scorn her name if she attempted to escape it. Somehow, the thought of being talked ill of even after death was painful enough to get her to try, if still reluctantly.

The decision to start physical therapy was not easy. She had to acknowledge that she’d been brought low by some malicious force, lower than she’d ever been in her life. Looking back on the day she stumbled out of that carriage at the gates of Riverfall, she felt nothing could be lower than walking to her tiny cottage, dirty, poor, and hungry. Now, she would have sold everything she owned for the ability walk out of that miserable center, carve the invading creature from her belly, and escape into the world.

Despite the trauma and emotional knife in her back, her mind was thankfully untouched, a blessing from the very gods, according to the doctors. The long, ragged scar on her head was only a blessing in the sense that it was easily hidden by her hair. Her skin and hair were dry and sallow without the sweet oils and soaps she normally used. She’d regained enough motor control to do most of her makeup, but she had lost all motivation to put real effort into it anymore.

Physical therapy was where most of her motivation went, and learning to walk again suddenly became the most difficult feat she’d undertaken in her life. Every other day, she supported herself between parallel bars and willed her wasted legs to propel her along. Her knees quaked and buckled, each trembling step sending excruciating pain through her thighs. Footsteps came slowly and she tried to focus on the fact that she was indeed making progress. The therapist had her pull back one set of arms from bracing herself, and they would eventually work down to no arms at all, at which point she would finally be free. Free to leave, at least.

“You are walking better today.” The therapist stated dully, the same thing he said after every session, whether it was true or not.

”I should hope so. Can I go now?” Unpleasant as it was, at least he was routinely uninterested. Knowing what to expect calmed her.

Hardly looking at her, he picked her up easily and carried her down the halls towards her room.
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Rosela
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:17 pm

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Tears threatened to well up again as Rosela stood in the mirror, turned to the side. Her belly was huge and it still had so much bigger to get. Kavala had seemed the size of a boulder at the height of her pregnancy. For the moment, Rosela was wearing the only dress Courlut had brought her, her sun dress. She hated wearing blatantly summer fashion in late fall, but didn’t care enough to want to go by the shop to get anything else. It didn’t seem worth it. Sighing deeply as she laid a hand on her stomach, she wished she could cover it up forever so she wouldn’t have to wear the evidence of her tragedy out for the world to see.

She tried to think of it as an advantage she could use – as cruel as the people around her had become, she wanted to believe a woman with a baby still held primal status in the minds of the city. Babies were always needed and she was now a woman to be envied. Kindof.

A grimace spread as she recalled the rumored horror of Akalak births and tears burst forth. Hands over her face, her breath came in uneven, noisy draws. No one envied her. They pitied her. Somewhere out there, at least one person wanted her dead.

”I can’t…I can’t do this…” Since the Kuvay’nas visit, tears always hovered just under her eyes, ready to spill at the slightest provocation. Had she always been like this, weepy and weak? She wanted comfort from any avenue, but was afraid to see what would happen if she sought it out. For now, she intended to simply sequester herself in her house. No people, no shop, just pajamas and a warm fire until she could figure out what to do next. The first step would simply be to leave the center.

Rosela felt eyes all over her as she walked down the hall, finally walking through the front doors on her own two feet. Two hands clutched at her cloak from the inside, hiding herself. It felt like everyone knew. Perhaps everyone did, and this would now be her life: no longer Rosela the Clothier, but Rosela the Nakivak. Rosela the Soiled.

She just had to make it home. She’d be safe there.
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Rosela
Bring me pretty things.
 
Posts: 906
Words: 739794
Joined roleplay: August 24th, 2012, 7:54 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Eypharian
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:17 pm

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The new key took some wiggling to work in her lock as Rosela stood outside her home, gasping for breath in the cold air and legs threatening to give out from under her. She’d vastly underestimated the walk from the center to her home and was now exhausted and freezing. Her body had no cushion left, and the cold seeped into her very bones. Not a single hand of help had reached out as she stumbled home and she received almost exclusively looks of suspicion and irritation as she passed.

She tumbled in ridiculously when the door finally opened and could only throw her body against the heavy wood to it shut behind her. The wretched wind was gone, but her house was as cold as a tomb. Even the shadows were deep and quiet, observing her from their corners. After a moment spent on the cold floor of the foyer, sniffling and lip wobbling dangerously, she teetered up and made her way into the house through the library. She stopped off in the kitchen to put a few dusty logs on a serving tray to drag back with her and stopped off again in the ballroom. It had once been her favorite room in the house, and she hoped it would comfort her to see it. It didn’t.

In the dining room on the far side, chairs were upended onto the table, Courlut’s habit when he mopped. A speck of white caught her eye and she dragged herself over to investigate. Shifting a chair, she pulled a piece of parchment from under it. Inside was a familiar list in her handwriting. It was the list of alternate day chores she had for Courlut, so he didn’t forget anything. The small reminder of old routine made her sigh and she turned to continue her trek to the bedroom, letting the piece of parchment fall to the floor.

She eventually made it the rest of the way into her bedroom, carefully shutting the doors behind her. It was as cold as the rest of the house, but somehow less dusty than she would have imagined after a season and a half. Part of her wanted to believe Courlut had kept cleaning it after she…went missing. He likely would have stopped at some point and then apparently lost his mind along with the rest of the city.

It took her shaking hands several tries to strike the flint just right to start the fire and she nearly smothered it in her haste to get warm. Despite her mistakes, the flames eventually rose and Rosela sat nearly on top of the fireplace trying to warm up. If she had woken up in the dead of winter, she wasn’t sure if she could have survived on her own.

After several minutes of feeling sorry for herself while she slowly warmed, Rosela sat back and forced herself to decide what to do next. As comforting as it sounded, she couldn’t stay locked in at home for the duration of her condition. She’d need to get back to work. She’d need to figure out how to maintain her home without Courlut.

She’d need to face the beast who’d done this to her.

The spark of anger faded quickly and was replaced with dread. She didn’t want to put a face to the monster that had done this to her. If Courlut had turned so terrible, she could only imagine what her wretched Talvis must be like.

”…Hey. I’m home?” The shadows had been silent since she got there. The ones at the hospital had been quiet as well, though still answered her when she spoke.

”We are aware. You’ve awoken at a time of much turmoil in the city.”

Rosela frowned. They didn’t often volunteer information unless she directly asked for it. ”What kind of turmoil? Is that why everyone’s been so…” She searched for the right word. ”Wrong?”

”Brother has turned against brother, sister against sister. None can escape it until it the city is cleansed.”

”Cleanse what? What is it?”

”We cannot say.”


Whether that meant they couldn’t say or simply wouldn’t was often the question with the shadows. She knew better than to waste her time asking.

The day grew long and came to an end, the setting sun lighting the sky ablaze with color. Rosela watched only the dancing flames, moving to her cold and dusty bed when the hard floor became unbearable. The flames finally died long after her eyes closed.
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Rosela
Bring me pretty things.
 
Posts: 906
Words: 739794
Joined roleplay: August 24th, 2012, 7:54 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Eypharian
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:18 pm

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Rosela’s bladder awoke her with insistent throbbing and she attempted to stay in her warm bed as long as she could. The fire was long since dead and a glance out the windows told her the sun was far from rising. Her bladder would not be ignored, however, and she was forced to get up. Her legs screamed of tired, overworked muscles, but she managed to hobble over to the hallway. Just enough starlight shone through the windows to light the way, but she turned into a pitch black hallway that even with Akajia’s gift seemed impenetrable. She went left towards the master bathroom, passing the great, dark maws of her closets. The bathroom was colder as a draft snuck in underneath the door to the courtyard outside, and she looked with apprehension at the icy porcelain rim of the toilet.

With some discomfort, she was finally relieved and jumped up to return to her bedroom, slipping back into bed and finding it thankfully still warm. It was a small comfort and she drifted back to sleep feeling better about the coming morning.

THOOM

A deafening boom sounded from outside her bedroom doors, startling her awake with a gasp. Had it been the front door? Who was here? Her heart pounded in her ears and she shook violently as she pulled the sheets up to her neck. She felt with the certainty of the terrified that it had been just outside her bedroom door.

Was it her Talvis, come to lay claim to her body again?

Was it her would-be killer, come to finish the job?

Was it some other criminal who’d come to claim possession of her house, her things, her?

Frozen in place, she was too terrified to move, lest the bed creak and alert her intruder. Her dagger was so close – in the chest at the foot of her bed – but fear locked her muscles in place, save their trembling. The shadows said nothing and she couldn’t bring herself to even whisper to them. She was weak, unarmed, and entirely helpless. How had she ever walked through the city with such confidence? How had she ever slept in this big house alone? The Rosela of before seemed like a distant, foolish memory.

She swore she could hear ticks outside her door – footsteps? A creak now – were they climbing the stairs looking for her?

Cold sweat prickling her neck, she lay in wait for death and violation to descend upon her, every noise a harbinger. At some point in the night, it was exhaustion that would claim her and she finally dropped off to sleep again.
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Rosela
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Posts: 906
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Joined roleplay: August 24th, 2012, 7:54 pm
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:19 pm

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When Rosela woke with a stiff neck as she swung out of bed, only moments later remembered the sound of her intruder. If they had still not come for her even until morning…

Attempting to be more confident, she quickly opened her chest and pulled out her stiletto. If the intruder was still around, he may think twice about tangling with someone armed.

The creak of her bedroom doors echoed through the house, amplified by the silence. Trembling again, she gripped the stiletto with a sweating hand and crept forward. Her front door was still locked. Walking heel to toe to keep her footsteps silent, she peered around the corner, and saw no movement down the length of the house. She began to suspect she imagined the whole thing until she backtracked into the ballroom. There, in the far dining room, was a chair. Its fellows were still upended neatly onto the table, but the one she’d moved to get the paper had toppled over during the night. The heavy wood would have made quite the sound when it hit the floor. Heaving a sigh, Rosela left the ballroom and moved to the kitchen.

She wasn’t sure what she expected, as not even a scrap of food was to be found. Even if she had found some morsel, she had to admit that she wouldn’t have been able to trust it, making her even checking imbecilic.

Angry with herself for losing sleep and a hundred other things, she slouched back to her bedroom. She’d have to go out for her food. Clothing would have to be fetched from her shop as well – her winter clothing all came with belts that wouldn’t fit around her stomach now. For the time being she could survive with her sun dress and heavy cloak, but she had no desire to suffer through the unseasonable cold with it.

The aforementioned cold was somewhat lessened when she left the house, walking with slow nonchalance to save her legs. She had a fair amount to walk and had to save her strength. The walk to her shop was a familiar one and there were thankfully few souls out. The familiar ivy-covered façade brought a breath of familiarity to her and she touched the wooden frame of the door reverently. The Closed sign sat jauntily in the window, and she was unsurprised to see the display window empty. Hudon and Orabelle would have shut everything down when she left, and all it needed was her touch to breathe again. This place was the source of her life, and if she could just get back into the saddle, everything would be…better…

The door opened on a painfully empty space. She logically knew that the clothes were all likely stored in the back room, but to see shelves standing empty and dusty made the room look like the skeleton that had long-since dried up and been picked clean. She could feel more than see the familiar shadows though, and gave a small sigh as she moved in and closed the door behind her. Her throne would be repaired another day, for now, she just needed clothes.

After much picking through boxes and a very cold wardrobe change, she was back out on the street, warmer, but not much more confident. She was attempting to fake it though and had chosen bold winter colors instead of the more neutral fall ones. A black sweater dress, black leggings, and a wolf fur stole was her armor against the cold and the strange world Riverfall had become. If she could not be the old Rosela who walked these streets with impunity, she could fake it. There was a larger red and black stole that she’d wanted, primarily because it would cover her belly, but it would be too warm to wear inside until the temperature dropped further.

Outside felt more manageable now that she was properly dressed for it and started to appreciate the fall foliage around her. She had missed her favorite season – summer – and would simply have to live with that. More people were beginning to walk the streets as she neared the bazaar, and while some seemed to be ordinarily cheerful, so many were the same irritable folks she’d passed on her way home the night before. Reminding herself not to expect anything, she plowed forward with her head held high, faking confidence she did not feel.
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Rosela
Bring me pretty things.
 
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:21 pm

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The trek back home required multiple stops as her legs and fingers alternatively gave out on her. She’d dropped her bag once and a single stranger stopped to help her, a large, grizzled Akalak. Rosela was so grateful she nearly cried then and there. Her watery eyes only seemed to make him uncomfortable though, so he nearly ran on his way once her bags were back in her arms.

A surprise waited for her at her front door and she climbed the steps slowly, eyeing the plain white envelope shoved in the door crack. Looking around suspiciously, a free hand pulled it out as she unlocked the door and slipped inside the door.

Only once the groceries were away and some potatoes were boiling on the stove did she work up the nerve to open it. Her name, scrawled in messy ink, labelled the front and nothing else. Who knew what horrible things the letter could contain? Death threats? Extortion? It could be a simple well-wishing card for all she knew. Thin, trembling fingers slowly ripped open the folded parchment and revealed…a letter.

Dearest Rosela,

My apologies for not seeing you before now. I’m sure you woke up frightened and alone, and that is my fault, in more ways than one. My name is Likhren Mourid and I am your Talvis. I am sure you do not think highly of me right now. I’ve rewritten this letter a hundred times since your awakening, as I found I could not face you in person.

I did you great wrong by taking you as my Nakivak when you could not say no. Had I been a more honorable man, I would have found a way to get you your treatment another way. I could have done anything but what I did. Something in this autumn air has shown me the error of my ways and revealed the cruelty of my actions. Perhaps I somehow knew you were going to wake up and I would then have to face you. Whatever it was, I am glad for it and I wish to accept your judgment in person. If you don’t wish to see me, I understand.

I will be dining at the White Crane tonight at the 18th bell. If you would care to join me, I would be most appreciative.

With Regards,
Likhren


Rosela stared open-mouthed at the letter in her hands. Of all things she had expected, this was not among them. In her first contact with her new Talvis, she had expected cruelty, dominance, ownership, not remorse. In spite of herself, she regretted thinking ill of him. Maybe the Oathmaster was right – this was the best of a bad situation. She was alive, wasn’t she? Granted, she was alive with…an addition, but it was over with now. She was going to have a baby and it seemed the father was exactly what she needed right now.

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Rosela
Bring me pretty things.
 
Posts: 906
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Joined roleplay: August 24th, 2012, 7:54 pm
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Waking Up

Postby Rosela on November 13th, 2014, 4:31 pm

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The blood seemed to drain from her extremities the closer she came to the White Crane, the trembling in her knees having nothing to do with the walk. She was doing it, she was really doing it. She was going to meet her Talvis. Every god in her memory received prayers that Likhren was the man his letter showed. Her hand hovered over the door…and opened.

It was warm inside and a violinist played a soothing tune from on stage. Two hands passed her cloak to the doorman while another two smoothed her fur stole as she looked around. Without her cloak, she knew her belly would be painfully obvious. Movement to her left caught her eye and she turned to see an Akalak half standing out of his seat, looking anxious. The color of his skin threw her; she remembered it from the vague flashes of her unconsciousness and it made her skin crawl. Fighting it down, she stepped forward.

This was it, the moment of no return.

Walking over as calmly as she could, Rosela attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. ”Hi.”

“Hi.” They sat down together in the candlelit booth. Silence descended as they stared down at their napkins.

”I got your letter,” Rosela said, immediately cursing herself for stating the obvious.

Likhren didn’t seem to notice though, and nodded at his plate. “Good. I figured I should, uh, let you decide if you wanted to see me or not.”

”Um, thank you. I appreciate that.”

Another long silence. Likhren startled her with a sudden sigh and he raked a hand over his face. “I don’t even know… I guess I kindof said everything I wanted to in my letter. I-I meant it. I’ll take care of you. If you want me to.”

Head still down, Rosela looked up to see him looking at her the same way. She wanted so much to believe in him, to have a rock to cling to in the storm. ”I…I’d like that.” Her smile was shaky and tentative, but he returned it the same.

The waiter appeared suddenly, startling them both. Nervous laughs were exchanged and she met his eyes fully. Rosela became more sure of herself and began to feel she could face this with him. With the loss of her confidence and her sudden weakness at every turn, his caring strength was just what she needed. Their personalities were perfect for each other.

Ledger Changes :
Fur Stole: Scarf (1sm), Cotton (x1.25=1.25sm), Fur Lined Common (x10=10sm) = 11.25sm
Sweater Dress: Dress (8sm), Llama Wool (x10=80sm) = 80sm

New Lock, Good = 80gm

Total: 80gm + 91.25sm = 89gm 3sm 5cm

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Rosela
Bring me pretty things.
 
Posts: 906
Words: 739794
Joined roleplay: August 24th, 2012, 7:54 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Eypharian
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 6
Featured Character (1) Featured Contributor (1)
Featured Thread (1) Trailblazer (1)
Overlored (1) 2013 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

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