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EbonySaDiablo
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Number of posts : 5
Age : 28
Location : England
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PostSubject: Group Page Posts   3rd August 2010, 1:16 pm

Ok, so i am also part of a group page RP where you just write in a forum based RP in character in certain threads. Here is my introductory post to my character for this RP. It is based around a harmonious living between Children of the Night and Humans. Be warned ... i've been told it was very long >.<


*Fingers wrapped about the broom, i push, back and forth, allowing the brissles to touch the ground, edging the dust, dirt and grime that had collected in the past three hours to the appropriate area. To most this would seem a mind numbing job to say the least however to me, it was one with which had a rhythm, something to pace my heart to, something to set my thoughts going and allow time for day dreaming. So back and forth the broom went, my thin hands clasped about its handle as if nothing could take it away from me*

Matron:: There is plenty more where that came from on that list of yours young lady. Do not dawdle so, it is unhomely

*I turned my gaze on her, my green eyes upon her ice grey. She wasn't a horrid woman, nor even putrid to look at, it was more her tone of voice that got beneath peoples skin. One would think she would get beneath her own with the way she spoke, constant nagging, a never ending plight to keep her precious Orphanage as spotless as she likes to see her teeth. My lips curved slightly in a somewhat cheeky grin before the Matrons hand came down across it. With a slight hiss of air passing my lips at the impact, no other sound do i make. What would be the point? Noone would hear it worth noting, noone would or could do anything to stop it, it had been done. Turning my gaze upon her once again, i watch as her nostrals flare in anger. The smile was in memory of the day the young ones switched her toothpaste for something much worse, catapillar slime. I wonder if she knew that was where my mind had wandered. Probably not, noone ever knew. I loved the privacy of my own thoughts*

Matron:: You disobiedient child, what was the smirk for? Hmm? Hurry this along, it is almost time for tea and you have barely touched your chore list

*Tea ... something i would undoubtably go without. I could count the number of times i had partaken in Tea on just one hand this last month. It was a treat for us with no patronage, a given to those with. It was how things were done, why argue, they would not change. My eyes close and open slowly as they blink, then i turn back to my chore, pushing the broom to and fro. I could hear the Matron slap her thighs in exasperation, the material of her skirts thick and so taking most of the sharpness of her anger. Her footsteps resounded off of the parlour floor as she retreated. A small sigh escapes my lips as i place the broom against the wall and instead i take out the piece of paper i had rolled up with todays chores upon. She was right, although i had cleaned three of the seven bathrooms, sweeped most of the lower quaters, collected the free range produce and hung out the washing, there still seemed to be a never ending amount. Though, from what i had left, it shouldn't take me too long, bedsheets, washing up, tutoring and then back over the tasks just completed, i should be done before dusk. Folding up the piece of paper, i slot it back into my makeshift dress. I could never look at my dress with anything other than disdain. Pinks, lilacs, colours only a mother would force their daughters to wear ... it enabled them to feel feminine. These however were cutouts from damaged clothes that could not be repaired, sewn together to form a patchwork of hideousy. Nineteen and having to wear clothes suited for a twelve year old was never something i had envisioned for my life however, refusing to speak as i do, i accept and get along as best i can with what i am given. There is no point in arguing, this is what is and always will be*

Matron:: Nineteen and still with us, the mute will be the death of me i'm sure. The sooner we find her a husband, or ... another institution who will take her for cheap the better. I have plenty of kids here as it is, she is just taking up bed-space. I'll tell you this now, and don't make me repeat myself, she is pretty enough and men don't like chit chat, but she isn't worth the clothing we provide, the food we supply and the water she cleans with.

*I could overhear everything she said as if she were right beside me. They all assumed this, that i was mute, that i could not quite understand the complexities of their workings here. All completely false of course. I could speak, infact i speak quite often ... when alone. It enables me to keep going, to know i am still me. But to speak to others. A shiver rushes down my spine at the thought. Others, with their opinions, their mockery, their prejudice. What would be the point if all i was to hear in response to my words would be 'she speaks' or 'your opinion is beyond me and i cannot fathom why you chose to open your mouth to say such a thing'. Both responses i had obtained from fellow Orphans. So i ignore, i do not speak and i get along just fine on my own ... and my books. Turning to the counter i take up the book i had carried with me for the past two days. They would not mind so much if i take a break, they would forget i was here within moments, i could easily venture out and be lost to them for hours without their caring. The chores look done to say the least, they just need to be redone, for the thousanth time this week. Shaking my knotted hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear, i step quietly out the back door, walking past the tall shrubbary that covered the passage to the back gate. Unhinging the lock, i slide through, careful not to open it too far just incase anyone were to look out and hear the creak the old metal gave. With a smile of relief, i turn, stepping forward towards the forest, towards the one place i loved to go and maybe i may even finish the book. I mean, i was the fastest reader i knew. Running my tongue across my lips, i realise i hadn't drunk anything in a while so before i got to far, i turned and changed direction for a moment to the garden pump. Placing the book to the ground beside me, i cup a hand beneath the pipe, using my other to pump at the old fashioned leaver to its side. At first a dribble of water trickles into and out of my hand before the water begins to flow freely. Gathering some to my lips i drink greedily before i wash both hands, face and neck. Feeling somewhat refreshed, i dry my hands in the material of my skirt. Contradictory to my having just washed, to then dry with something so filthy however there was nothing else at hand. Taking up the book beside me, i turn back to my path towards the forest, glancing back at the Orphange just to make sure noone had caught me. As far as i could tell, nothing of the sort had occurred. Smiling brightly, i turn back towards the trees, rushing forward, unable to wait another moment for my quiet time alone*
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