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| Veran Clacher | Apr 4 2008, 12:50 AM |
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Veran jogged down the hallway, a bucket half-full of warm soapy water and cleaning rags tapping his legs every so often. A dry rag, with a future in dusting things, was slung over his shoulder. A ragged old skirt had been thrown on over his equally ragged pants; it was stained, tattered, and the perfect apron. Livia had mentioned a new girl arriving soon, but she'd neglected to mention a name, a personality, or a power, so Veran, irritated as possible with his thoughtless friend, had spent the day polishing up the unused bedrooms about the house in preperation for her arrival. There was a noise from a room he hadn't entered in weeks: the sound of small pebbles scattering on the old oak plank floors, and a swear in a high, female voice. He slowed his pace, sloshing a bit of water on the floor, and peered into the room. There was a girl kneeling on the floor, scooping small, bright candies into her hand; small scrapes covered her arm and one cheek, her blonde hair was disheveled, and she looked like one more inconvenience might cause her to fall apart. Silently, he set the bucket down, folded his rag and tucked it into his waistband, and stepped into the room, blocking out how he must look to this new arrival: small, dirty, barefoot...and clothed in a skirt. "Hi." His voice cracked, pitching his voice up an octave. He coughed a tried again. "Uhm...Hi. I'm, uh, Veran." He smiled slightly, stretching out his hand to shake. "You're in the wrong room. It's dusty. I need to clean, and you need me to look at your scrapes and feed you and give you a room." |
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| Wonderland [Open] · Parlor | |
10:41 PM Nov 28
