| Wonderland [Open] | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 2 2008, 09:51 PM (213 Views) | |
| Kat McPherson | Apr 2 2008, 09:51 PM Post #1 |
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Kat perched awkwardly on the edge of a dusty couch. After a quick 'tour' which basically consisted of Luke pointing upstairs and grunting "Beds, bathroom" then further into the house and saying "Dining room," Kat's so-called Watcher had muttered something about 'stuff to do' and then wandered off. So...so far she didn't think much of her kidnappers' imprisonment tactics, but for now it was working in that she was too tired and shaken to do anything but sit. The grazes on her cheek and arms stung, so she rummaged through her shoulder bag for anything that might help...keys...lip gloss...body spray...hmm nothing even resembling a plaster. She did have some sweets left thought, and sugar makes everything better, right? Kat wripped open the bag, then swore in frustration as half of the skittles went spinning across the floor. |
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| Veran Clacher | Apr 4 2008, 12:50 AM Post #2 |
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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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| Kat McPherson | Apr 7 2008, 06:44 PM Post #3 |
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Kat, being occupied with scooping up skittles and generally freaking out, wasn't really aware of Veran when he entered the doorway. She half knelt, half lay, on the dusty floorboards muttering to herself as she recovered the last few sweets from under a sofa. It was then that the boy spoke, his wavering teenage voice sounding loud and abrupt in the silence. Kat produced a small squeak of her own, and sat up suddenly, her body language fearful and defensive…like that of a cat caught next to a puddle of milk. But a millisecond’s glance at Veran told her she was safe enough. Although that was what she’d though about that girl Livia, wasn’t it…? She frowned at him, an assessing eye travelling from baggy t-shirt, to cleaning rag to…was this boy wearing a skirt? What the hell kind of place was this?! Eyebrows disappeared into hairline, “Uhm…hi,” she answered, ignoring Veran’s outstretched hand; there was no way she was falling for that one twice in the same day. Pushing a tangled lock of hair from her face, she straightened up, and absently brushed dirt from her sleeves, “Yeah, I had noticed it was dusty, I’m not a complete idiot y’know… even if I did end up here…” the last part wasn’t aimed at Veran, but muttered to the room in general as she looked around with a frown. “How would you know what I need anyway?” She asked as her gaze returned to him, “For your information I’m fine. I’ve…I’ve got my bag here, and… and skittles. See. Skittles solve all problems!” she said this matter of factly- determined to at least pretend she was in control. And with a completely straight face she popped one of the small sweets into her mouth and chewed, the defiance of a cranky two year old shining through her weary exterior. |
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| Veran Clacher | Apr 14 2008, 11:12 PM Post #4 |
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Veran smiled faintly, letting the proffered hand fall to his side. "I know this is really sudden for you. I'm sorry." He scratched his head, patting the chocolate-colored locks and sending up a powdery cloud of dust. "But refusing help isn't going to make it any better. You're here now, and the Manor won't let you get away...But it's nor bad here, honest!" Tugging the dusting rag from his belt, he stepped around Kat, resolute to clean around her until she was exhausted enough to allow him to do his job. He started at the couch, yanking the cushions off and shaking them out; dust filled the room, settling in both teenager's hair, then brushing it off the back and armrests. As soon as the couch had taken on a recognizable color -- velvety red instead of uniform grey -- he moved on to the shelves, systematically wiping down every trinket in the room. Throughout the entire process, he shot Kat quick glances, gauging the time left until she folded. Finally, after the third shelf sparkled, his own patience wore thin. He folded his thin arms and turned to her, lifting a brow. "Look. Skittles are just going to give you a headache when the sugar rush wears off. You have until I'm done mopping the floor to make your decision: You can either eat what I cook you, or you can have me force-feed you what I cook you. Got it?" He gave her an exasperated look, born from hours of work, and hurried out to grab his mop. |
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| Kat McPherson | Apr 29 2008, 01:07 AM Post #5 |
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(OOC: Eeek! Really sorry Nord!) Kat scowled sullenly at Veran as he crossed the room and picked up a cushion. He was right, and somewhere inside she knew that. The boy's gentle lecture was made all the more grating for his earnestness....and, of course, the fact that he was right. Childishness had replaced awareness and in that moment Kat realised too late what Veran was actually intending on doing with his cushion. Eyes widening the girl attempted to fan the dust clouds back with wild flicks of her hand and lower arm, but still managed to somehow get enough up her nose to cause an almightily sneeze. That along with the wonderful swaying sensation caused by the dancing air and dust brought on an impromptu bout of land-sickness, leaving the girl bracing herself against a sofa's arm and clenching her jaw against the nausea. Veran was still glancing back at her, she noticed, and so did her best to return his looks with stony ones of her own. As the boy finished with the couch and moved on, Kat felt the nausea fade away, yet still she continued to stand there…stubborn and uncertain…not really with any next move to make. Her mulish pride required her to resist her host’s offer of help, and yet that was all that was really stopping her from dissolving into a puddle of submissive tears. Pride… and the aftertaste of fear that still wound its sticky tendrils through her consciousness. It still wasn’t safe here. Seconds ticked by, and watching Veran clean became more and more boring. Food was beginning to sound like a good idea now, she realised, suddenly becoming aware of how dry her mouth was. How long had it been since her last meal? Six? Seven hours? She bit her lip, tiredness slowly wearing down pride...part of her wanted to just throw caution to the wind and give in. But that would be selling out! …A moment later it didn’t matter, as Veran, obviously fed up with their little game, took controll of the situation for her. "Look. Skittles are just going to give you a headache when the sugar rush wears off. You have until I'm done mopping the floor to make your decision: You can either eat what I cook you, or you can have me force-feed you what I cook you. Got it?" In the face of common sense even fools must waver. For pride's sake she hesitated. Secretly counting the seconds in her head…one…two…three…before allowing her shoulders to sag. Kat half dropped, half collapsed sideways; sprawling melodramatically across Veran’s newly dusted couch. She flapped a hand feebly at him in surrender, her voice winy with complaint, “Ugh! Alright already! Fine! Whatever. I don’t care...I just…” she trailed off staring despondantly up at the ceiling. |
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| Veran Clacher | Jun 6 2008, 01:02 AM Post #6 |
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Veran smiled slightly, brushing a bit of dust off of his shirt. He recognized Kat's melodrama, but he'd let her get away with it for now. After being kidnapped, threatened and scraped up, hurting her pride would be the least intelligent action to take. "Took you long enough. Follow me, I'll take you to the kitchen. We'll get you patched up while we're there..." He beckoned to her and started out into the hallway. He scooped the bucket up without stopping and unpinned the skirt, pushing it off andflipping it up with a foot; he caught it with his free hand and stored it with the dirty rag at his waist. He lead her through the entry hall, past the stairs, and into the kitchen; he poured the bucket out in the sink, rags and all, and hug his skirt on a hook by the door. He pointed at one of the spindly chairs at the table; in the center of the table there was a platter piled with sandwhiches. "If you're still hungry, or if you want something else, just tell me." He dragged a box with a red cross painted on it from a cabinet over the sink and plunked it on the table. "When you're done, there are bandages and stuff in here...And once you're feeling better, you can pick a room if you want." (I am SO sorry! o_o Bad Nore!) |
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| Kat McPherson | Jun 10 2008, 07:21 PM Post #7 |
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Kat lifted her head to watch as Veran left, a slight crease in her brow. At home her little display would have provoked words of appeasement from her mother, or at least a lecture from Glen about acting her age. Even her school friends would have rolled their eyes. Not getting a reaction made her feel wrong-footed somehow...like she'd lost in a battle of wits. It was a moment later that Kat realised she was now alone in a spooky room. Scurrying after Veran, she eyed the shadows wairily. That opressive air that had been bothering her since she'd entered the house still pressed in on her, refusing to lift even when they entered the lighter and slightly more airy environment of the kitchen. But whatever urgency she felt was quickly driven out of mind by the sight of food. Kat plonked herself down in a chair and grabbed at the nearest sandwich. A full minuite of eating followed, untill finally the girl had recovered herself enough for her mind to wander. When it did she waved a crust in the direction of the bucket. "So... are you, like, the servant here or something?" (Mmph, s'not like I didn't poof too. ) |
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| Veran Clacher | Jun 11 2008, 01:57 AM Post #8 |
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Veran blinked and rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward. "Um, well, not exactly." He settled into one of the creaky chairs, one leg tucked under him, and propped himself on the table on his elbows. Absently, he reached for a sandwhich and took a bite. "I don't serve the people who live here, but I am kind of the servant of the Manor. Something needs cleaning, I clean it. Something needs fixing, I do my best to fix it." He shrugged, wiping up a drip of mayonaise with his sleeve. "Cooking and doing laundry is just extra stuff." He sighed and sat back, sitting with his knees to his chest. "So where'd you live in Greave before we kidnapped you?" |
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| Kat McPherson | Jun 29 2008, 11:44 PM Post #9 |
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(Sorry...again.) "Uh, well...you know Axminster Lane? It's right up past the school...you take a left off of Foxhill Drive, and follow it round the corner...my house is one of the ones on the right." She shifted uncomfortably and studiously began to pick a pice of lettuce out of her sandwich. "Our old house was better though. We were nearer the shops, and you could barely hear the motorway. Glen just made us move 'cause his house is bigger and he didn't want the brats having to walk all the way across the park to get to school." She rolled her eyes. Obviously Glen was not in her good books. “What about you? I don’t remember seeing you around.” |
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| Veran Clacher | Jul 7 2008, 01:26 AM Post #10 |
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"Oh. Um." Veran scratched at the worn table, taking off a bit of the ancient varnish. "I lived at the orphanage, so I guess we never ran into each other. Livia wanted me to come with her to this place, and I had no trouble with that. I mean, I didn't hate anyone there, I just didn't fit in." He smiled, offering a small, one-shouldered shrug. "I like it better here. It might be harder for you to adjust, 'cuz you're used to better stuff, but it isn't so bad." He fell silent, scraping the varnish out from under his nail. "Was Glen your stepfather?" (Yeah, okay, we're both magical disappearing people lol.) |
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| Kat McPherson | Jul 24 2008, 02:26 AM Post #11 |
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(Dammit used the wrong name; for Glen read Neil.) The orphanage. That explained it. To be honest she'd always avoided the kids from there, the ones in her year had always struck her as loud and boisterous. She watched as Veran calmly scratched at the table varnish, maybe it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t fitted in.
The word was sent a disconcerting chill up her spine. The way he talks you'd think we'd died. "No. Well kinda...the wedding's next month." She chewed her lip. It still sounded weird to say 'the wedding' out loud. Getting out of her chair she began pacing around the room. "...Mrs Fiona Mercer..." she pronounced suddenly, turning to look at Veran. "Does that even sound right to you? I think it sounds like some kind of car. Or the name of some history teacher with...with grey hair and bad perfume. And mum's not like that. She's really young. And, y'know, it's not even like they need to get married! I mean we already live in his house, what more does he want? But nooo, there has to be a church, and guests and music...and they wanted me to wear a peach bridesmaid's dress! Peach, for God's sake!" This whole outburst was said in almost one breath, and finished with Kat throwing her arms in the air. She then swiped the empty plate from the table and dumped it in the sink…and froze, standing with one hand resting on the work surface. She could feel Veran’s eyes boring into her back. Suddenly it was if something had taken over her body. She felt herself turn and sprint for the doorway, dodging the kitchen table as she went. The hallway sped past; her hand was on the handle of the front door before she had properly thought about what she was doing… |
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