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 Posted: Sun Oct 10, 2010 3:49 pm
Brandon normally wouldn't have dared to do something like this but his silence didn't allow for him to try to talk her into eating with her father. Even if it wasn't what she wanted, he knew it was what was best for her, both physically and emotionally. He'd never really seen her interact with her father except when he was first brought there, the incident with that guy and just now. And in all of those three situations, they'd been been at odds with each other. It wasn't good, for either of them.
He ignored her protests as much as possible until he was forced to stop when she grabbed hold of a doorknob. He frowned down at her, even more so at her words and the look in her eyes. When she pulled her arm from his grip, he didn't try to grab it back. She had been very tolerant of him up to that point and he knew he was pushing things.
When she reminded him that he'd already brought her back, he frowned again. He brought her back because it was what was best for her. She could have easily gotten robbed by bandits, killed or worse. An unescorted lady alone on the road was a target for such lawless men. But, instead of trying to force her into what he knew she needed, he gave in, taking a step back and respectfully lowering his gaze to the floor.
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Posted: Sun Oct 10, 2010 3:58 pm
Tell me, what is a human worth without a heart?At first she thought he was actually going to try and drag her back the rest of the way but instead he took a step back. Confused for a moment, she stood there silent and then lowered her head. "Thank you." she said softly before she moved away from the door slowly. "You can go ahead and eat now.. just come up to my room when you're done." she didn't look back up at him after that.
Walking away in a rather quick pace, she went back up the stairs, not bothering to look back. Her father and her used to be on good terms when mother had been around.. she brought peace to the house.. and everything had been so much better. Now it was a prison made out of golden bars. Shaking her head, she opened the door and walked in, closing it behind her.
Violetta then slowly walked up to the windows and pulled open the curtains to let the light in. It blinded her for a moment, but she got used to it. Looking around the room, she then noticed a rose on her bed. Her heart picked up it's pace and she approached it. It was a red beautiful rose but it was lying on top of a note and she wasn't so sure she wanted to read it. Reaching out, she slowly picked it up and brought the flower to her face so she could take in it's sweet scent. For mine seems to have been destroyed.
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5Bulletproof-Marshmellows
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Posted: Sun Oct 10, 2010 10:38 pm
When Violetta spoke, Brandon just nodded, keeping his eyes lowered. He listened to her footsteps as she walked away, walking back towards the stairs. He stayed where he was for several moments before slowly looking up. Sighing, he forced himself to move, turning away from the dining room and making his way down the hall to where the dining hall where the slaves ate. It was a lot less decorated than the master's dining room but what else was to be expected?
As he entered the hall, he was mostly ignored except by Neil and the woman he'd been with the day Brandon had met them. Neil was glaring daggers at him while the woman glared at Neil. After a glance at them, Brandon averted his eyes. Walking up to the counter, he grabbed a plate before taking his place in the line. As the line moved along, different workers dropped spoonfuls of food onto his plate, though he wasn't entirely sure they could be considered food.
Grabbing a fork, he sat down at the end of a long table by himself. Placing the plate before him, he wondered how in the world they expected them to eat that stuff with a fork. It looked like they needed a spoon. But, when he stuck the fork into it, he saw that most of it stuck to the fork. He wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disgusted. When he put the goop in his mouth, he immediately opted for disgusted but he forced it down anyway. He forced it down as quickly as possible so he wouldn't have to endure the taste too long. Once it was gone, he put his fork on his plate and waited for his stomach to stop rolling.
"It's not so bad once you get used to it." He glanced up to see it was the woman from earlier. She had come over to him while Neil followed at a distance. "It doesn't taste the best but it's good for you. Keeps you strong."
Brandon, of course, didn't say anything, simply looking at her.
"Did you honestly expect him to like it after he's been sharing meals with the Mistress Violetta?" Neil snapped as he walked forward before turning to glare down at Brandon. "But don't think just because she lets you share her food that she's interested in you. She's mine, and don't forget it."
Brandon stared at him blankly before scoffing. This guy was insane. Looking over at the woman, he rolled his index finger in the air near the side of his head. She smiled in understanding before her eyes widened. Frowning, he turned back towards Neil at the sound of a furious yell just in time to be tackled from his seat onto the floor.
It took him a moment to realize what was going on, just long enough for Neil to get in some decent punches. Adrenaline rushing through him, Brandon blocked a few more of Neil's blows before grabbing the man's upper arms and throwing him onto his side. Rolling with it, he pinned the man down, mostly, and managed to lay in one good punch to the face. He had his fist raised to strike again when a searing pain exploded over his back. It happened twice more before someone grabbed him by the hair and pulled him off Neil, throwing him to the floor.
He placed his hands against the floor to push himself up but a heavy boot landing on his back forced him back down.
The slave driver had come in from his room to get the field slaves moving. When he'd seen the fight, he'd intervened.
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Posted: Thu Oct 14, 2010 10:15 pm
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5Bulletproof-Marshmellows
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 1:49 pm
Tell me, what is a human worth without a heart?Picking up the note afterward, she read it though it didn't have much to say on it except that it was for her.. and from James. Frowning, she opened the window and threw the rose out and did the same with the note. He just never gave up did he? Shaking her head, she then went over to her bed and sat down on the edge right before she heard the sound of rustling leaves. Blinking, she looked over at the window to see him climbing him with the stem of the rose between his lips. Closing the window James walked up to her with a smile. "Get out of here." she hissed at him.
"You didn't like my present?" he asked her after he had taken the rose into his hand and the let the petals of it brush against her cheek. Swatting it away, she glared at him. "I thought I made it clear before that I don't ever want to see your face again." her voice was cold and her eyes were back to their cold hard gaze as well. "You have no business here." she added as she pointed back at the window.
"You've always been so predictable.." he said with a small chuckle before he took another step towards her, throwing the rose back onto her bed where he had left it before.
Narrowing her eyes, she took a step back, not wanting to be near him. "Leave." she wasn't going to play with words and make this last any longer than it had to. "Now." she enforced her words with a bit of venom.
"Fine, fine." he said with another one of his smiles. "But I'll be back later." she was about to throw another threat at him, but he had already jumped out the window, leaving the rose there to remind her of his visit.
Shaking her head once again, she glared at the rose before slamming the window shut.. too bad it didn't have a lock on it. Realizing that Brandon still wasn't back after all this time, she decided to head down and see what had happened that was taking him so long. Pausing for a moment at the top of the staircase, she swallowed, hoping that her dizziness wouldn't return on her way down.
Thankfully it didn't, but as she walked into the slave hall, she narrowed her eyes when she saw the slave driver. "Release him." for once her voice echoed throughout the room and anger boiled inside her. She had never paid enough attention to realize what was going on in her own home but now she made it her business. Walking up to him, she kept her eyes burning holes into the man's head as she waited for him to do as she wished. For mine seems to have been destroyed.
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 10:26 pm
Brandon was sure this was it. The slave driver would whip him until it hurt to move, then drag him back to his room and leave him there. Then Neil would come when he heard some free time and finish what he'd started. He'd seen things like this play out before. He was done for, for the simple fact that he had no one to stand up for him. He didn't have any friends among the other slaves. Like Neil, they were probably jealous that he was treated with such kindness by the mistress. Personal slaves, though higher up in the slave hierarchy, were still slaves and often treated as such. But Violetta didn't treat him that way.
Pain once again seared a line across his back, a pained yell torn from his throat as he arched his back in an attempt to ease the pain. He waited for another lash but it never came. A second later, he heard the sound of his mistress' voice but was unable to make out her words over the roaring in his ears. Though, the slave driver being closer, he was able to hear the man's response. "He was attacking another slave, young mistress," the man told her. "You know that your father does not tolerate such things."
Brandon didn't even try to defend himself, and more than just because he never spoke. Though the driver no longer whipped him, he could still feel the burning in his back, like fiery snakes slithering over his skin. Besides, even if he could talk through the pain and did talk at all, who would believe him, a worthless slave, over a free man?
He could hear Neil moving not far from him, probably getting up. He didn't know. His eyes were closed. Fire burned on his back and cold soaked into his front from the wooden floor beneath him. He could feel the blood trickling down his back, soaking into the materiel of his shirt. It felt warm and sticky and he had the sudden urge to bathe but he didn't dare move for fear of antagonizing both the injuries and the slave driver.
He knew men like the slave driver. Even though he was a hard man, he also knew his place, proven as much when he heard the man's boots click against the floor as he took a step away from where Brandon lay. He didn't move. The only sign that he was even alive was the movement of his back as he breathed, and the steady flow of blood from his wounds. Because of his shirt, the wounds were not deep, luckily, but the whip had torn right through the material and opened in back in several places, even reopening an old wound that he'd thought had healed.
Slowly forcing his eyes to open, he stared at the feet of the people around him. None of the slaves dared to get close though he could see some shuffling anxiously. Others didn't move. He saw one pair of boots that looked better quality than all the others, but still simple. He assumed those belonged to the slave driver. Simple but tough and durable. He knew he was right about the man's character.
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5Bulletproof-Marshmellows
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 10:51 pm
Tell me, what is a human worth without a heart?Her blood boiled even more when she realized he was bleeding. Her hands slowly turned into fists as she reached the man. "I'm sure he had good reason to do so.. and I'm sure my father wouldn't be happy to find out that you're arguing with me." she used whatever power she had simply because she didn't want Brandon to be beaten to death. "Besides, beating a slave won't do any good. They are not beasts. Pulling them apart would have been good enough." she hissed at him.
"I'm make sure that these rules of yours change soon enough." she threatened him before kneeling down besides Brandon. As far as she knew he was still conscious but she wanted to make sure. Gently reaching out, she brushed a strand of his hair away from his face. Looking around, she called over two slaves that could help her. "Help him up.. please." she asked of them before they moved over, each taking an arm and pulling it over their shoulders. She knew her father probably wouldn't allow her to bring a doctor for a slave... so she would simply do it herself.
"Bring him up to my room." she told them before giving the slave driver one last threatening look and turning around to follow the two men that were taking Brandon down the hall and up the stairs. A few minutes later, she gave them one gold coin each. Of course they tried to give it back but she shook her head and made sure they left with the money she had given them. Catching a maid, she told her to bring some bandages, hot water and some disinfectant. Closing the door afterward, she looked over and Brandon who had been set down on her bed.
Walking over to him, her eyes softened. "I'm so sorry." she whispered. "Can you sit up?" she asked, since she would have to examine his wounds one way or another.. but it would be best if he was sitting. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she shivered slightly. She had never meant for this to happen to anyone.. not here.. or anywhere else. Guilt slowly filled her up from the inside out. Gently she reached out to the buttons of his shirt, wondering if he would let her take it off since she would have to bandage his wounds. "May I?" Violetta asked softly.. not knowing if he trusted her enough to do so. Of course he probably wouldn't answer but she was hoping to get a nod out of him or something..
Hearing a loud knocking on the door, she spoke up. "Come in." the maid walked in cautiously as she placed a bin of hot water on the nightstand that was next to her head and put the bandages on the bed. "Is there anything else you need Miss?" she asked as she bowed her head. "No, thank you. You are dismissed." Violetta heard the door close soon afterward. For mine seems to have been destroyed.
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 11:20 pm
Brandon knew that the slave driver was itching to argue his point but the man probably knew better than to argue with the master's daughter. After all, he may have been a free man but he was still a servant like a maid or butler. So, the man remained silent. Brandon imagined that he probably nodded his head in acceptance of her words. Neil, on the other hand, he could see Neil's old, worn shoes standing completely still and facing where Brandon thought Violetta was speaking from. Even bruised and probably with a broken nose, the slave was still completely delusional.
He heard his mistress speak once again but still wasn't able to make out her words. His eyes closed again but opened seconds later when he sensed someone beside him. Blinking, he realized it was none other than Violetta herself. He didn't move as he felt the gentle touch her brushing some hair from his face. She was always so gentle with him, and he was more grateful than she could ever realize. Now that she was closer, he could hear her over the rushing of his blood in his ears. He felt the vibrations in the floor as the two slaves she'd called came over. However, he groaned in pain as the pair lifted him up off the ground, slinging his arms over their shoulders. But, he kept his head lowered, eyes closing again. He could feel the blood loss starting to take effect.
Brandon could make out enough of her words to be able to know that they were taking him back to her room. He would have preferred them take him back to his room, not wanting to ruin her sheets, but he didn't react. Instead, as they walked, he couldn't help but wince and groan whenever they jerked him, accidental though it was. He knew they were trying to be gentle with him but they were yard slaves, used to having to be strong and harsh with their work.
When they finally reached Violetta's room -it had seemed to take forever- they laid him down on his side on her bed. He slowly opened his eyes, watching his mistress pay the slaves and their failed attempt to give the money back. Now that he was laying still, the roaring in his ears was quieting down.
When Violetta approached him, he noticed the softening of her gaze. It wasn't an expression change that he saw very often. Usually, a person's face hardened when they looked at him. He wasn't sure why. Maybe they thought, him being a slave and all, that his very presence was offensive.
When Violetta asked him if he could sit up, he weakly moved his hand against the bed and tried to push himself up but hadn't even moved up the height of the sheets before the pain forced him back down again. His breathing quickened for several moments, until the pain eased again. When she reached out and touched the buttons on his shirt, his gaze snapped down to her hand before looking back up at her. When she asked if she may, he didn't react, simply watching her. It didn't matter what he thought or felt. She was the mistress. She was allowed to do it anyway. But, he trusted her.
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5Bulletproof-Marshmellows
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 11:37 pm
Tell me, what is a human worth without a heart?She placed a pillow against the head board and helped him sit up after a moment. Violetta had seen the way he reacted, she just hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. Biting her lip, she slowly undid the buttons, being careful knowing that he was in pain. After she had finished with the buttons, she gently took his arm and slipped it out of the sleeve of his gray shirt. That reminded her that he most likely would be needing a new one. Sighing, she did the same with the other arm, trying to not cause him too much pain.
Violetta gently leaned the front of his shoulder up against her own so she could look at his back without him having to fall over. Frowning as she moved the shirt away from his back, she couldn't help but wince at the sight. Reaching over with one hand, she took a wash cloth and soaked it in the now warm water and wringed it out before gently dabbing the blood off of his skin, not touching the wounds since that would hurt him even more. She did that several times before grabbing whatever medicine the maid had brought and applied it to his wounds. "I'm sorry if it stings." she told him.
When she was little, she had always done her best to take of her wounds on her own before her father noticed so the doctor wouldn't come.. and most of the time she succeeded. She had experience through the years so she knew what she was doing. Grabbing the bandages, she slowly wrapped them around his waist and the rest of him so the wounds would be fully covered. The blood had stopped flowing by now.. and she could only hope that he would be alright.
Gently taking his shoulders, she moved his back against the pillows again so he wasn't leaning against her anymore. Giving him a concerned look, she then sighed. "Get some rest." she told him before she moved to clean up whatever blood had gotten onto the floor and where else. Getting up, she wiped the blood of her hands and moved to then drain out the water in her bath tub. For mine seems to have been destroyed.
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2010 1:49 pm
Brandon grimaced as Violetta helped him to sit up, the movement agitating his wounds, but it wasn't like they had much of a choice. She could have rolled him onto his stomach but then she wouldn't have been able to bandage him up. Much as it hurt, it was the best way. As she started undoing the buttons on his shirt, he simply watched her hands work. When the front of his shirt was open, he shuddered at the memories that this scene brought to the forefront of his mind. No. He couldn't think of those times. They were over and done with, in the past and that was where he would leave them, where he had to leave them.
When she slipped his arm out of his sleeve, he clenched his teeth. It felt like any movement at all set his back on fire. He thought of all those who did things even though they knew they'd been whipped. He couldn't understand why they would risk it. When she removed the other arm from its sleeve, he couldn't help it and a quiet, pained noise escaped from him.
As Violetta pulled him forward to lean against her shoulder, he found himself breathing deeply once again and wondered how long he would be in pain. He knew of slaves whose wounds had bothered them for the rest of their lives. Would he end up like them. As she peeled the material off his back, he groaned in pain as the partially dried blood pulled at his wounds, starting a few spots of bleeding again. He could just imagine the sight of his back. Thick red lines criss-crossing across his back, the torn skin revealing the deep red flesh beneath. It wasn't a sight for a young lady like the mistress but he couldn't object, he could barely move.
When he heard the sound of water being rung out, he braced himself, though needlessly. She didn't touch the wounds themselves, dabbing at the bloodied skin around them instead. He sighed quietly in relief. The heat did nothing for the wounds but they, in part anyway, eased the tense muscles beneath. But, when she applied the medicine to his wounds, he gasped, his hand clutching at the arm of the shoulder he leaned against. His eyes snapped shut and he whimpered, not caring how pitiful he sounded.
When she apologized, he didn't react. Even if he did talk, what was there to say? It's ok? It wasn't ok! It hurt! It burned worse than the whip had! But he knew that it was, again, for the best. But that didn't mean it hurt any less.
The burning had just started to subside when he felt the light pressure of bandages against the wounds. He hissed quietly but at least it wasn't the burning pain of the medicine. He'd opened his eyes but closed them again as she wrapped him in bandages from his waist right up to under his arms. He couldn't feel anymore bleeding but it was entirely possible that they might reopen. He hoped not. He didn't know how much blood he'd lost but he was feeling pretty faint as it was.
He forced his eyes open again, despite how heavy they felt, when she grabbed his shoulder and gently leaned him back against the pillows. He blinked, confused about the concerned look he received but too tired to try and work out why she was so worried. When she told him to get some rest, he didn't need to be told twice. Closing his eyes, he listened to her move around for a minute before crashing headlong into the dark abyss of sleep.
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5Bulletproof-Marshmellows
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2010 2:06 pm
Tell me, what is a human worth without a heart?Well.. he could make noises so she didn't doubt he could speak.. he probably just didn't want to. Shaking her head, she didn't push the matter as she cleaned up a bit. Their trip to the marketplace obviously wasn't going to happen but she wasn't disappointed. Opening the door quietly, she walked out with the empty basin, disinfectant and the now slightly pink cloth, hoping she would be able to catch a maid who would be able to take this all away. She did in the end.. so now all that was left was to talk to her father about what had happened.
If he told her they were treated that way just because they were slaves she wouldn't be afraid to blow the whole house if she had to. So much for staying her shell and being unaffected by everything. Perhaps she was being a bit like her mother in a way, but then again, she barely remembered her. Walking down the staircase, she guessed that he was already done with breakfast and had probably moved onto something else, like being in his study. Biting her lip, she would try to be civil about this but she could so easily lose her temper at times.
Knocking on the door, she then opened it before slipping inside. She had already come up with a list of problems and how to solve them. Violetta knew that he wanted to keep the slaves under control, but if they were treated well.. why would they want to disobey? The slave driver needed a taste of his own medicine in her point of view.. and the slaves needed better food. She had seen what they were serving while she was done there.. and to be honest, she didn't know how they managed to swallow it. "Father?" she called out, hoping that he was there behind the mountains of paper and books that were in this place. For mine seems to have been destroyed. ((Short >.<))
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2010 2:21 pm
((It's ok))
Violetta's father sighed deeply as he looked at the mountain of paperwork he had to go over. This was going to take forever to do! How he had managed to get so behind in work, he would never know. Sighing again, he shook his head before sitting down behind his desk. However, despite himself, he found his mind wandering. He'd heard there had been a commotion in the slaves' dinning hall and that Violetta's slave had been pulled off another and whipped. He knew his daughter would no doubt come to confront him. He wasn't like forward to that.
She had such a good heart, his Violetta. She got that from her mother. But, she had to learn that a slave's place had to be forced on them. If they were given the slightest bit of leash, they would choke him with it, and most likely her as well. Slaves were, in the beginning, willful and difficult to control. She'd never come across a slave that hadn't been at least partially broken. They were stubborn and willing to do anything to regain their freedom. That made them dangerous. He didn't like the way their slaves had to be treated, wounded slaves didn't work nearly as fast or efficiently as healthy slaves, but they had to be treated that way lest thoughts of rebellion enter their minds.
When he heard a knocking at the door, he glowered at the stack of papers and books that blocked his view, even though he recognized the knock. Standing, his guess was proven correct when he saw his daughter enter the room. Walking around the piles of work, he stood in front of his desk, waiting for the inevitable. "Yes, Violetta. What is it?" he asked even though his tone said very well that he knew what was coming. Honestly, he didn't want to have to go through this but he knew, Violetta being Violetta, there was no way around it.
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5Bulletproof-Marshmellows
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2010 7:18 pm
Tell me, what is a human worth without a heart?Hearing her father, she was glad she wouldn't have to look around the large house for him since that could be rather difficult at times.. especially if he wasn't even there. The tone he used though made it obvious that he knew what was going on. Sitting down on a chair that didn't have anything on it, she ran her fingers through her dark brown hair. "It's about the slave driver.. as well as the meals that are served for them." she swallowed.. this wasn't going to go down well but she would try to make it as smooth as possible. "I realize that some people rule with fear.. but sooner or later a rebellion will happen no matter how hard you try to keep them under control. I suggest treating them a bit better. If they are treated better.. they won't anything to complain about. Remember when mother was here?" she was talking a lot.. but that was only because she didn't want him to start yelling at her.
"Things were a lot better then.. People were happier and I didn't see a single slave with scars or wounds besides the ones that they received before coming here. They are not beasts.. and even beasts have feelings." she looked over at him now, wondering what he was going to do. He would probably say that his way was the only way and something else to enforce that statement. Lowering her head, she just hoped he would actually listen to what she had to say. For mine seems to have been destroyed.
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2010 11:29 pm
As Violetta sat down in the chair before him, her father waited silently with his arms crossed over his chest. Even though she hadn't spoken yet, he just knew this was going to end badly. She would get angry, then he would get angry. She should just consider herself lucky that he wasn't one of the men that beat their children into submission the same way they did their slaves. When she mentioned the slave driver and the slaves' meals, he sighed inwardly, his guess proved correct. The slaves. Before he'd bought her that slave, she hadn't given a second thought about the slaves or, if she had, she'd kept her opinions to herself. He was starting to wonder if he'd made a mistake in buying the boy. But he couldn't go back on it now or she would never forgive him. He listened silently as she told him how she felt. He was about to tell her that if they started giving the slaves more rights now, they would only ask for more and more until eventually they would revolt to get their freedom. But, when she mentioned her mother, the words died in his throat.
Unconsciously, his gaze lowered to the floor and he lowered his head as his daughter's words rang in his ears. She was right of course. Everyone had been happier when his wife had still been alive. The slaves had been content, knowing they wouldn't regain their freedom but they were at least treated as people. He was a hard man but his wife had been gentle, and just as stubborn. They'd evened each other out. Now she was gone, and she was never coming back. His expression hardened before he lifted his head again, his eyes locking on Violetta. "Yes, life was good then, but now she is gone." He ran a hand over his face before snapping, "What would you have me do, then, when the slaves start fighting for more and more? What would you have be do when they demand their freedom because they think I'm a pushover?"
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5Bulletproof-Marshmellows
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Posted: Thu Oct 21, 2010 4:02 pm
Tell me, what is a human worth without a heart?She knew that her reminder of her mother had stirred up some emotion from him, for he had stopped himself from saying whatever that had been on his mind and didn't speak for what seemed like an eternity to her. "What makes you think that they'll fight for more if they'll get better treatment? They'll be happy." she sighed and took in a breath of air. "No one thinks that you're a pushover and they won't think that then.. only that you've had a change of heart. You can even tell them that it was my idea if that helps." leaning back in the chair, she still wasn't sure if she was going to win this argument but she was going to give it her best shot. They were both stubborn to the bone and that obviously wasn't going to change anytime soon. She just wished they agreed on at least one thing.
"If they are happier, they'll be more willing to stay and put more effort into work. They could even be loyal." she honestly doubted that any of them would be willing to take a bullet for her and her father. Her mother perhaps.. but she was already dead and there was no way they could change that now. "I just think they deserve better treatment." slowly getting up, she ran her fingers through her hair. Violetta didn't want things to get too heated.. so she would leave if they got worse. For mine seems to have been destroyed. ((Sorry for it being so late >.< ))
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