1 The Orphan of Ice [Chi, or Invite] Fri Jun 07, 2019 1:14 pm
Maeve
C-rank
Her breathing began to calm after her last round of coughing, the majority of what had been sticking to the lining of her lungs having been expelled. This freed up her lungs to work properly, or as properly as they ever would. Unfortunately for Maeve there was no cure for her illness, but it was simply something she had learned to live with. Having spent her younger years facing the Grim Reaper himself, it had in a way prepared her for moments such as this. It had kept her from freaking out when the bandits had overwhelmed her three weeks prior, and it had allowed her to keep her nerve instead of acting on blunt emotions alone. She knew that had she caused trouble like some of the others who had been captured as well she wouldn’t be here today: either dead or gone, those were the only two options for those who caused the men trouble. As her identification was handed back to her she slipped it carefully into the pocket of the pants she had on, not minding the way the cuffs of the pants were torn and frayed, or the dirt that was on them and her bare feet. The fact that she was safe trumped all, and while it might have seemed silly to trust someone she didn’t know so blindly, she was going on what her gut was telling her: if the one before her had wanted her dead she would have been, especially with what she was seeing as she turned her focus back onto the fight going on some distance away. Yet, her attention wouldn’t remain as the pink haired individual began to speak again, causing her blue hues to shift and focus back onto him as she listened. Hearing that those who had kidnapped would be dead soon probably would have disturbed another child, but for Maeve it brought her a kind of calmness and sense of security. Not only would the men here be dead soon, but so would those who had been keeping her elsewhere. It was comforting to know she wouldn’t have to be looking over her shoulder all the time, wondering if they would come back for her, especially after the destruction and death that had already been caused due to her fleeing to the island. She found herself nodding in understanding, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt the throbbing that had been occurring within her head from the massive coughing fit beginning to subside: all the while knowing better than to try and stand before it was gone. It would only take a few short moments, especially now that her breathing had regulated before she could open her eyes again without wanting to wince against the pain. Grasping the tree for support with the palm of her hand and fingers, she rose to her feet, glad she didn’t sway. Her gaze would shift back to the location the whole fight had started in, and she let out a breath of relief she wasn’t aware she had been holding back. Looking back to the individual with her a small smile would spread across her face. ”Thank you for helping me.” Glancing back towards what remained of those who had lost the fight, she would add on a soft, ”I’ve seen what they do to people who caused them trouble... “ Maeve found herself looking forward to being anywhere but here, surrounded by death and savagery. The idea of just a place to relax was equally as nice, and maybe even get cleaned up - and perhaps in clothes that properly fit her, as the ones she had on were baggy and definitely not her own. Not that she really had any clothes to her name to begin with, but still. ”I can breath again, so I’m good to go.” This of course was definitely the truth of things: there was no more weezing, more coughing, and her face which had turned red from all of the coughing was once again returning to its naturally pale color. ---- After being welcomed into the manor Maeve found herself able to take the time to wash up in a warm bath, adding a bit of coloration to cheeks: giving them a somewhat healthy and rosey look. Having the dirt and grime off of her had certainly gone far in making her feel even better, and a fresh set of clothing had helped even further still. While she had never really been one for skirts, the outfit was beautiful and pastel pink in coloration, making it look as if her pale skin had a bit of coloration to it. A sweater covered the upper half of her body, hanging off of her shoulders in an elegant fashion with two thin straps made of silk holding it in place and keeping it modest: it fit her well, neither too tight or baggy, but with enough room to allow her freedom of movement without being constrained. A pleated, almost knee length skirt had accompanied the attire, with a pair of white leggings worn beneath that were thick and obviously meant to be warm. Socks and a pair of boots had further completed her attire, and after brushing her blue colored hair, now lighter than it once was since it was properly washed, she looked almost normal - as if she hadn’t just spent the past three weeks in hell. Her mind had been filled with questions as to where clothing that fit her so well had been found so quickly, but the food she had been given as she sat at an elegant looking table had quickly wiped her mind from all of those thoughts as her stomach roared to life in a way it normally didn’t. She had eaten in silence, not really contemplating anything, but really focusing on the first proper meal she had had in longer than even three weeks. Life had been tough for Maeve long before she had been kidnapped, being an orphan who was abandoned by the one who was supposed to be taking care of her was tough: the world was by no means a friendly place, she had learned that early on, even while her parents were alive. After she finished she gently laid down her utensils on her empty plate, feeling fuller than she had in months. While anyone else in her position likely would have been exhausted she was wide awake: the manor was interesting enough as it was, but she was also curious about her rescuer. On top of that her mind was flooded with thoughts as to what would come next: she was still a lowly little orphan without a cent to her name, and she was unsure how long she would be welcome at the manor. ”That was delicious. I’m surprised I finished it all. I normally don’t eat much.”, she spoke softly, her voice holding a sort of whimsical chime that would have been beautiful in song. She was really just trying to fill the silence, while her mind was going a million miles an hour over everything that had happened, not just since she had been kidnapped, but since her parents had died. |
TOTAL WC |
1,385 Total WC: 1,385 |