(42nd of Fall, 511AV)
Zlakalia didn't like people in her house. She didn't like them stomping around in their big people boots, complaining about the funny smell, or messing around near where she slept. But it was what she had to do to get the things she needed done, especially with all she had left to do to prepare for her idea. It was such a good idea, though, that her floor was shaken and jumbled with each step of the giants around her.
Cleaning the bodies was hard. She cleaned up bodies only after the blood had dried, and she had been slacking lately. All the little rats and rabbits and whatnot needed to be disposed of. Usually she put them in her bag one at a time, hauled them out of the city, dumped them in the fields beyond. Carrion birds and foxes and other predators could have the carcasses, make use of them however they saw fit.
But just hours ago Zlakalia was wondering the streets, her bag far fuller than normal and painted red from the bodies inside. "Fresh meat," She had told the few curious fellows who inquired, moving on before they had time to ask further questions. Once she was far enough from her home, which of course in Alvadas could have been right down the road or the otehr side of town, she simply dumped the whole bag in a side alley. Another curious sight in this town of curious sites, who would notice?
Her cloth walls were removed from their hooks. That was far harder than anything else, though, a small pycon trying to remove hooks from a curtain seven times her height. It just took some yanking and pulling and twisting to remove them from the hooks, pull each one loose one by one. She had spent most of yesterday getting them down. Zlakalia didn't rightly know how she was going to get the blue fabric back up, but she would figure it out. The wall fabric now covered her masterpieces, the rows and rows of clay look-alikes, turning the two long tables into lumpy blue mysteries. Good enough for now.
The three men around her were still annoying as Zlakalia sat in the back of the room on the normal sized bed, just staring at them and making sure none let their curiosity from her tables interrupt their labor and reveal her secrets. the first, the blacksmith, her prime employer, worked at the new lock she had commissioned. It was a thick old thing, made easier for her to open and close from either side. The old key he made for her would make sure it was unopenable except for by her, though she didn't intend to keep it locked for long.
The next man worked at fighting the windows, locked in a combat to measure and install the wire mess that would 'keep her safer from thieves.' It was giving him a challenge, getting the metal screen into place. He had to fit it just so beyond the windowsill, impossible to push or pull out as Zlakalia had specified. Another tough job. And the last wielded a shovel, working at the ground to deepen the pit beneath the floorboards. 'For my valuables.' Zlakalia wasn't lying, though it wasn't to be items she kept stored beneath her floor, hidden in a pit below the wooden boards.
Zlakalia watched the three work for the next few hours, looking more like the statue she was molded after than a living thing. 'Not long now. I'll get what I want.' She was silent and thoughtful. But most of all, the entire time, she was grinning.
oocI have no clue how much this stuff would cost, I'll take this out of my money based on whatever total you give me. Thanks! |
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by Zlakalia on October 23rd, 2011, 7:52 am 
