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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]
A return to a more regular feeding pattern again seemed to have worked well for the dancer. Her natural figure had been affected by the difficulties of acquiring food during the closure of the city's food stores. It hadn't been to a great extent but enough of one to take away some of her natural curves. Examining herself in the mirror in the back room of the Pig's Foot Tavern, she found herself grimly satisfied by the return of a more natural shape for her. She was by no means fat, a pinch at her stomach attesting to that, but she looked healthier than she had done. Even the way that she had been was a state that many in Sunberth never reached. She was so much better off in so many ways but yet she wasn't content. The course of the season had done little to alter the dancer's mind about switching occupations but unfortunately she still hadn't found anything to appeal to her yet.
Despite her dissatisfactions she still had to work if she wanted to put money in her pockets and so she remained, tonight being no different than any other. She had not yet danced and Caela doubted that Merv would want her to keep the customers' waiting any longer while she admired her own reflection.
Focusing on the task at hand, she completed the stripping of her torso and picked up the corset from where it lay at her feet. It was fastened in place at the front, adjusted to sit most comfortably on her frame before she began to tighten it via the laces at the back. Her back to the mirror, she peered over her shoulder to see what she was doing. The reflection in the glass made it far easier than trying to do it blindly, the process less time consuming as she could see exactly which parts were too loose. When she thought that it was laced comfortably she inhaled deeply, allowing the breath to fill her chest and test the tightness of her corset. Not too tight, not too loose but perfect. On the first try too! A white blouse was placed over the new undergarment, the cloth smoothed down and adjusted to hide the end of the corset. The smoothing continued on the material of her skirt as she examined herself in the mirror once more. The two top buttons were loosened, the new neckline tweaked and fiddled with until she was happy with the view presented.
Her fingers were dragged through her hair, repositioning it carefully so that she didn't mess it up completely with her crude styling methods. The blonde locks were pulled and patted into place until she was satisfied with the new arrangement, a little more wind swept looking than it had been but not sticking up all over the place. Finished with he tousling she added a finishing touch to her face. Red lip pomade was spread carefully over her lips, the top one given the most attention as she tried to make it appear fuller than it currently seemed to be. Once applied her lips were rubbed off another tentatively before she bared her teeth, searching for signs of staining from the pomade. When the young woman had done everything that she could do to her appearance, a few different smiles were practised in front of the glass before she stepped out into the main bar area.
A sway entered her walk as her hips were given some freedom to move as she walked past the bar. Her elbow was allowed to brush off one man's back where he sat on a stool at the counter. The blonde looked back at him over her shoulder once she was past him, affecting an apologetic look. The man had turned to look at her of course and his eyes met hers before she returned her gaze frontwards, certain that his eyes would drift lower to examine her when she wasn't watching him. If she managed to hold his attention until she began her dancing then it was more than likely that he would remain. Caela would just have to remember to smile his way and show interest in him while she danced. The blonde knew that if it was done right that he might well buy her a drink afterwards. It'd be nice to have something to warm her before she stepped out into the now crisp evening air on her way home.
Her feet carried her to her familiar stage, a sweeping glance and an accompanying smile thrown about the room as music started up. She was sure to catch the eye of as many as she could, those who turned around in curiosity compelled to allow their gaze to linger a little longer. The rhythm was allowed to take hold of her, a slow, sensual tempo to begin with and her body began to sway gently as she waited for a good point to start. When it came she started to dance. .
It was monotony, the same old tricks and steps used over and over again. Each dance was just a new combination of moves that she'd found had worked well in the past. The regular patrons never paid enough attention to notice to repetitiveness; they never got tired of ogling the way that her body moved. Caela danced it everyday though and she was more than familiar with the constant sameness of it. She liked dancing but she didn't like dancing like this and hadn't for quite some time. The young woman no longer took perverse pleasure from the objectification of herself.
Some tricks she couldn't pull very often or the novelty of them would wear away for her viewers. Making a stocking fall down her leg while wearing a skirt could only look like an accident so many times and those times had to be spread out for it to slip beneath the notice of others. Merv had seen it so many times that he knew it was by no means accidental but if he looked her way there was nearly always a lustful appreciation at the sight of her bare leg. That didn't mean that she could overuse it though just because her employer reacted favourably though. It couldn't seem routine or else people would get bored.
The shimmying, the swaying and the sexualised touching were all carried out with passion that wasn't really there. The music still grabbed her and her body wanted to move in response but it just didn't want to move like that. She tried to liven things up for herself. The blonde attempted a tight spin to send her skirt fanning out around her. It was partly for entertainment and partly to see if she could do it. The last time that she'd tried she'd stumbled but she'd realised when she attempted it before that it was all a matter of balance. The dancer planned it carefully, making sure that she had a clear section of floor rather than near the tables. If she lost her balance then she didn't want to end up on top of someone's drinks.
The dancer rose on her toes, choosing her right one as the one that she'd pivot on. She moved her hips counter clockwise and then abruptly switched direction to give her some momentum as she pushed off with her left foot and raised it out of the way. Her arms were held out from her sides to keep them out of the path of her twirling skirts but also to help her balance. Speed was necessary if she wanted to keep up the momentum to keep herself going but excessive speed would make her dizzy. The scene whirling around her was already starting to affect her that way and the young woman allowed her eyes to close for a few moments to assuage the sensation. She kept it up until she began to feel unbalanced. Her eyes snapped open so that she could see what she was doing and her right foot gradually returned to resting flat on the ground, her arms used for balance as her let foot was returned to the ground as well. It wasn't perfect, the returning foot landing too soon due to the fear of a fall, but the wobbling didn't seem to have elicited as negative and jeering response as before. This time there were whistles and whoops.
The blonde renewed her movements around the room, intending to bring this dance to its conclusion soon although not before she'd achieved her latest goal.
The man at the bar had continued to ogle her and she'd given him attention as often as possible, mindful to not excite jealousy among the other customers. Sometimes the displays of interest were open, the dancer blowing a kiss in his direction or moving close to him only to twirl out of his range, taunting him. The rest of the time she tired to be stealthy about it. A sultry glance, a wink or a bite of the lip when she looked his way. His attention belonged entirely to her and she was somewhat pleased with that fact. Get a drink or two out of him and shatter his ego to pieces in the process. She could get some enjoyment out of that at least.
It was during one of the more obvious overtures that the woman appeared.
She stormed straight up to Caela's target and smacked him across the face; he didn't get a chance to see her coming. She'd moved fast, seemingly coming out of nowhere and her slap was immediately followed by a tirade of abuse. The music and the dancer stuttered in their rhythm and then stopped altogether. The tavern stared. An unspoken signal from Merv had the music starting again shakily and the tavern owner would have offered the disgruntled woman an easy way out of this but he never got a chance to say a word in her ear.
The stop and start of the music seemed to draw her attention to the blonde and the fact that the dancer was about to go straight back to her work seemed to set her off. She marched her way towards the young woman, the music coming to a screeching halt once more as the entertainer came under attack.
"Ya good fer nothin' hussy! Ya think yer gonna take me man fro' me?" cried the seemingly jilted woman. The blonde held her hands up defensively and began to back away, shaking her head from side to side.
"I wasn't doing you any wrong, honest," Caela tried to reassure her, eyes making a worried dart around the room as if searching for some sort of rescuer. If she had to do it then she thought she might be able to fight back if it came to blows, which she thought it would, but she didn't like the look of her opponent. The predominant feature of the woman stalking towards her was her redness. Her face was red, her neck, her arms, even her hair! Judging by the way her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow and the flesh looked boiled she thought that it might be one of the washer women. There were a few of them about in Sunberth, the ones who could take out the very worst stains if you wanted to get something clean. They could patch clothing if you couldn't and could help stretch the life of a garment just that little bit longer so you could put off buying a new one. They were strong in the arms, used to the hard work of dipping and wringing water laden garments and if this one managed to punch her then she'd probably end up stretching her out on the floor.
"Take it easy now, I-"
"Ya little strumpet! I ain't list'nin' to a word o' it!" she snarled and lurched forward with a fist swinging for the dancer's face. .
There was no time to plan, no time to reason with her but only time to dodge. She could have ducked the blow or dodged to the side but instead Caela chose to step backwards and found herself banging into a table. The backs of her legs were left throbbing from the contact but she didn't time to dwell on that because her attacker just kept coming. It was a simple matter for her to follow the dancer and once she did, her other fist came swinging. This time Caela ducked it, darting to the side so that she could escape under it and gain herself some space to work with. The woman's elbow glanced off her head as she tried to duck under it and so she was left briefly disorientated and vulnerable as she staggered away from her aggressor.
No one was going to her aid except possibly Merv although she'd told him that she could look after herself now. That had certainly been a mistake if it meant that nobody could help her in her present difficulty. The patrons were taking it as some great show put on for their enjoyment, the idea of two women fighting and possibly wrestling on the floor soon was as attractive to them as Caela's dancing. No, she was in this all on her own, she just needed to go on the offensive. She couldn't duck and dodge forever.
The jilted lover was on her quickly, following her shift in direction as soon as she could and advancing with both hands balled into fists and raised in front of her chest. There was power in those swings and it was clear that she had some idea of how to use them but then so did the blonde. She needed to be constantly on the move before she considered throwing a punch. She needed to be able to get away again, especially if she was going to fake blows at the other before she went in for the true punches.
As she'd done in her training session with Noven she went up on her toes and started to move around the place, a bounce in each step. Backward, forward, back left, right. The blonde began testing the other, forcing her to move too although her movements were slower than the dancer's. The other wasn't fat but she was certainly solid, a buxom redhead who was big enough to break the dancer if she took a run at her. She was taller as well so she had a longer reach than the dancer, which would help to make up for her slowness. If she landed one punch on the dancer then Caela doubted that she'd be able to fend off any more blows after that.
Her darting movements were irritating her opponent who just tried to come at the dancer but Caela circled her, making sure that they stayed in a clear area rather than risking bumping into tables. Fists whooshed through the air in front of her as the washerwoman tried to do some damage but the dancer was always quick to move back out of the way. This dancing and circling continued for a chime until the watching crowd started jeering, none to pleased with the lack of progress. They wanted action, they wanted blood, they wanted woman on woman action and they didn't care if that meant two women pummeling each other. They wanted to see it. The increase in sound diverted her opponent's attention for a moment and that was an opportunity that the dancer wasn't going to miss out on.
Her right foot became her forward foot, advancing with it as she swung her right fist at the woman's left side, aiming below the ribs. The other went to block it but it had never been intended to be a true strike. Midway between herself and her target, her fist was drawn back as she stepped back and moved quickly to the left. Her opponent had been so caught up with protecting her left side that her right was open and vulnerable. Her left fist swung, striking the bones of the rib cage and leaving her knuckles throbbing as she stepped back out of the range of retaliation, her left hand cradled in her right. Petch that had hurt. The pain had taken place on both sides thankfully. The redhead howled and staggered towards her own right, clutching her injured side.
"You'll pay fer that, ya little bitch!" she howled as she stepped forward. .
Her fist came flying at the dancer's face. Her arms raised instinctively to protect herself and so caught punch on her forearms. There was a groan of pain from the dancer before another punch came. The washer woman reacted faster than Caela had expected, her fist coming hard and fast towards her stomach. Luckily for her she was wearing a corset. It absorbed most of the impact but she still felt it. It had been a solid punch and her attacker was feeling the consequences of it. She howled as she hurt herself instead of her victim, cursing and spitting profanities before she lunged at the young woman and knocked her to the ground. A mixture of cheers and groans went up as the two women ended up in what was now a wrestling match with Caela currently on the bottom.
Hands were placed around her neck, rough fingers grasping at her throat as she tried to squeeze the air out of the blonde. She was left gasping, her own hands clawing at the red ones of her assailant. Her nails dug in as she scratched and scraped away skin, drawing blood and filling her nostrils with the scent of iron. The jealous woman only seemed to increase her grip as she sat astride the dancer, strangling the life out of her. She tried punching the other's arm, hoping that her strikes would weaken her hold but she prevailed, her hands jerking at Caela's neck with each strike. Her body was already weakening, the will and energy to fight going out of her as her air supply depleted. Her vision was blurring, the sounds around her becoming muffled and she was being slowly murdered. Nobody was coming to help her. Why was nobody coming to help her?
Then the hands holding her were wrenched away, the weight on top of her removed suddenly and the air was filled with angry screaming. "Get yer 'ands off o' me! I'm teaching 'er a lesson! Let me at her!" the washerwoman shrieked. The blonde couldn't even see her or whoever had pulled her away but she owed a debt to whoever had done it. She was too preoccupied with coughing and spluttering as she tired to breathe again to pay much attention to anything else right now. She had a fair idea how Eleazar had felt when she'd partially strangled him before. Her throat felt bruised although it was still too early for any discolouration to form. She was going to have the imprints of fingers on her neck before long though.
Her eyes had watered and tears had to be wiped from her face before she could focus on anything. The woman and her beau were gone, thrown out of the tavern no doubt and a crowd was beginning to gather around her. They pressed in her, gawking and muttering amongst themselves. A call was made to give her some space and she was glad when they moved away to give her some space. A pathway was cleared to allow a barmaid to help her to her feet. She would have led her to the bar but the blonde shook her off.
"I'm all right. I can get there myself," she croaked, tottering over to the bar on her own. Her employer had a drink ready, something that smelled strong. It was only a small volume of liquor but she didn't ask what it was and just downed it in one go. It burned her throat on the way down, the seeming briefly internal as well as external but the sensation passed and left a warmth in her belly. After a chime she began to feel better, good enough that she was able to think about how much the drink would cost her. "How much do I owe you for... whatever that was?"
Her employer shrugged. "Whiskey. I'll take it out of your wages," Merv explained. The blonde nodded, running a hand through her hair as she waited for her nerves to fully return to her. The noise level was back up again, the tavern returning to normal now that the excitement was over. That's all it had been to them, a few chimes of exciting entertainment but for her it had been a near death experience. What did they care?
"You ready to get back to work or are your nerves shot?" the barman asked abruptly, his gaze expectant. Caela blinked. After what had happened he expected her to keep right on working like nothing had happened? If she wasn't willing to do it then he'd let her go but if she ran off home now she'd seem weak; that wouldn't be good. She really didn't want to do it though. She just wanted to go home and forget about that crazy woman. If she left now though maybe the fiery redhead would be waiting for her. Wait it out and she'd be able to get paid for work, seem tougher than she was and skirt the danger of a repeat attack. Well whether she liked it or not it seemed she was going to be dancing again.
"I'll get right back on it now boss." She pushed herself away from the bar and sashayed her way back to her dance floor. There were some stunned looks at first and then there were cheers and catcalls. She'd just proven that she was made of stern stuff and in Sunberth that meant a lot. It made her look good and that counted for something in this town. She didn't like it, she didn't want to dance but all she had to do was move on automatic, fake a little passion and it'd be over before she knew it. It was the same thing as before from here on in so she didn't even have to pay any real attention to what she was doing. .
Well done! That was an enjoyable read ^_^ I gave you a few extra points because you described the prep work, dancing, and fighting so thoroughly. Hope to be reading more soon!
Please don't hesitate to PM me with questions, comments, or concerns! Also, remember to edit your grade request as "graded."
