Pink Poogle Toy Forum

Arabella nodded in response to his comment and just looked at him for a moment. She didn't know what to think. This young man was like no one else she had never met. But she figured that she ought to say something, to keep silent any longer when this fellow seemed to desire conversation would be rather rude, indeed.

But what to say?

She had to say something. So she blurted out the first question that came to mind.

"So, I suppose you are going to the ball tonight?"

She blushed slightly at the question. Why oh why had she asked that of all things? She was supposed to be getting her mind off of silly dreams about silly things like balls, and his private affairs were no business of hers. But what was said was said, and she tried to mask her embarrasment with a smile.

((I have been trying to get this to post three times without my net crashing. *dies* ))

Eta winked at the guard as she handed over her sword. He gave a nod and a gruff "Miss Carinae" as he respectfully touched the badge of the Maarl on his over shirt.
Eta led of into the bar, settling down at a table near the door, in an alcove. Pleasant smelling smoke wreathed the ceiling, and a piper sat next to the bar, playing a tune.
"Hey, bartender!"

[In times of waiting, explaining my character's history inevitably becomes a habit. ]

In the drawing, Sheridan's lightly coloured hair was swept into a smooth bun. A few waves fell about her face, framing it like a sweet picture. Her dress could have been any colour, but it seemed to give her a gentle air as she stood by a large window. It reached down to near her ankles, dainty slippers just protuding out from underneath the full, silky skirts. Jane had drawn light to be caught within the material the dress was made of and fancy beadwork was done in neat patterns all around, glinting in the inky chandelier's light.

Jane thought how pretty Sheridan would look in something as fine as the things she made for other people. Why didn't Sheridan ever make something beautiful for herself and dress up like a fine lady sometimes? She had the material and the skill, after all. She also had good manners and a sense of etiquette, unlike Jane, who was, after all, a coarse country girl.

Unknown to herself, Jane had her own kind of grace - the sort of grace that comes with kindness. She was a caring and kindly soul. It came from having to take care of her absent-minded father so often and he did love her so much. Although she was rather small and thin from not having enough to eat in the past, she was surprisingly strong from the hard work she did in the fields and at home. They - the Porters - had books in aplenty and she was not completely without knowledge of basic etiquette, but royal etiquette was something else.

It was a fantasy, really, to think they could dress up and slip into the masquerade like anyone else. Jane was positive she would make awful mistakes that would show her for what she was. She looked at her hands. They were coarse and hard from the plow and broom, with hard parts all over the palm. Much better work for Sheridan or even Arabella. Both of them knew how to behave, or at least, knew much more about how to behave.

[And I have successfully made a post about nothing in particular! ]

[I'll only say this once more. Post you lazy bums!]

((Hmm, I'm going to continue. One way or another.))

A small troupe of worn down knights entered through the town gate. One of them, who seemed in command, wore a large red-brown cloak. His horse was draped with symbols of a descending fenix.

Some would recognise him as the Duke of Takes. Lukas, first-named. He was in fact a far-nephew of the present king. Through an *un-official* alliance.

He spurred his horse on, edging towards a nearby inn. His men were still dismounting, when he entered. He frowned seeing Christopher. Almost like not expecting him there.

"Are you a Guard of the City?"

Name: Lukas
Gender: male
Age: 23
Appearance: red hair, brown eyes, quite long for a male
Weapons: (optional) sword or rapier, also shoots bow for hunting
Other: Duke of Takes, he isn't in favor anymore with the king. Some think, it is because of his descendance and his mother being in favor with the previous king. The real reason is unknown.

_edit_ ((oops, I am sorry, Christopher. Lukas did travel further the gate, so I will let him enter the bar. Sorry again. ))

[Unfortunately we are nowhere near the town gate, and infact in a bar O.O' ]

[I'm going to try to make a plot twist but I've never done one before...]

Back home, Professor Porter observed the meal of bread and dripping his devoted daughter had laid out for him. It was cold now. He was meant to warm it when suppertime arrived, but he was hungry and it was really only - he looked at the crooked sundial he had made. It claimed to be three in the afternoon, whereas the old grandfather clock deemed it to be six in the evening. Too early for supper anyway. (That sundial needed fixing.)

Searching the poor larders for some food, the Professor found a basket of apples. He usually had an apple after supper, but seeing as he was hungry now, it wouldn't hurt to eat it now instead. Grabbing the reddest one he could find, he polished it with a cloth rag and bit into it without regard as to its cleanliness or the cleanliness of the rag.

Seating himself back into place in front of his oak desk, he flipped through his notes. His newest plans were to irrigate the fields somehow and to create a device that would allow Jane to draw water whenever needed without having to walk for half an hour before she reached the river. How to irrigate it was the problem.

Lost in thought, the Professor munched on his apple, unaware of the darkening sky and the sound of hooves beating on the ground outside.

A troop of dark-clad riders on dark horses drew up in front of the small cottage. It was a tiny cottage with a poorly thatched roof. The garden struggled to grow some fruits and vegetables but weeds ran wild hither-tither. A soft clucking of chickens and ducks could be heard at the back. Some distance away was a dirty yellow field of some grain or other. No one would have been able to imagine that the renowned Professor Porter would have fallen on such hard times. He had become a recluse, not reappearing even once in society.

And if these men had anything to do with it, they planned not to let him reappear even if he wanted to.

The foremost rider lifted a hand shod in a black guantlet. There was a total and complete eerie silence. Even the poultry seemed to stop their bird noises.

Pointing at the dishevelled cottage, the leader spoke in a husky tone. "Get to work."

[[Sorry about that! I needed a break to clear my head, and refresh my Rping skills- looks like my break was too long. I'm in a sticky wicket, y'see!]]

*Swiftly Eo's hand flashed up to hold Merle back, and she knew it was no good. She would have to speak. Swallowing deeply, she summoned up a voice, and explained.

"There's a problem with that," she said in the calmest voice she could muster. "I'm a girl..." She deeply hoped Merle would ask no more questions, but knew he would.

((yay for posting again! i was going mad waiting for people to post...ai, I need to join a couple more RPs...))

Arabella nearly choked on absolutely nothing at all, her eyes widening to a frighteningly shocked stare. Her view of Meiou in front of her suddenly swerved into a blur as Arabella grabbed for something to hold onto to keep her balance, biting her lip harshly in the process, which fortunately reminded her to breathe. She then proceeded to go a tad overboard with the idea of breathing and started to hyperventilate slightly as she grabbed a lamp post and straightened herself up. As she did so she blushed profusely, and attempted to politely close her gaping mouth.

((wheee hee hee, so, so, so hard to resist fainting...later, later, mwahaha.))

As she recovered from the initial shock of his inquiry, she realized how desperately she wanted to say yes, and how it was obvious she must politely decline, yet as Arabella attempted to explain some of this, her mouth just opened and closed like a fish out of water, so she finally just ended up looking at her feet, looking at him, then looking at her feet again, then looking away again, and so forth several times, her flapping mouth eventually subsiding into a weak, slightly confused smile.

((ah, that was way too much too fun to write. don't worry meiou, i'm just having, like i said, way too much fun )

Merle widened his eyes. Then he grinned, "I'm sorry. I hadn't noticed."

He frowned, thinking of something. "You are no run-away, aren't you?"

He could imagine some Noble's daughters or even merchant one's ran away to escape their pre-arranged marriage.

[Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaavyn darling, please post soon!

I might as well explain some more of the history as there's not much action I can do. Actually, would the word "professor" be in existance in 1673, or would "doctor" be better? Then again, most of this isn't entirely accurate, so heck. ]

Once, the Porters had been an influential family - both wealthy and educated. Mr. Porter, as the Professor had been then, was hired by the King to do research for him. A highly intelligent man and much prized by the court, he had done a great deal of valuable work. Continuing his own education until he was a renowned professor, he had married a lovely lady of near-nobility. The couple had two children, but their firstborn, a son, died under mysterious circumstances when he was two. It was said to be colic, but Jane had once heard someone mutter that if that had been colic, the King was a woman. Apparently devastated by grief, the couple dropped out of society and the court with their baby girl. For some reason they lost money - and kept losing it until they were forced to leave into the countryside. Mrs. Porter later died, seemingly to be from overwork and a frail body. As far as toddler Jane knew, Mummy had always been quite healthy until she suddenly got sick one day.

Arabella traced delicate circles in the dust with a pointed foot, her ears burning and her face flushing to a bright pink that was quite noticeable but strangely suited to her disguised beauty.

"Well...I..." she mumbled almost inaudibly, looking away, wondering how on earth he could ever think of her as pretty. Suddenly, somewhere deep within her something was born; a tiny burst of aching dread...he could not possibly think her pretty, he was just playing with her, jokingly flattering her with kind words that had no real meaning behind them. Perhaps he was simply exercising the kind of hidden cruelty nobles were infamous for among the peasants; in fact he must be.

And yet Arabella could not help but look back up at the kindly young man before her, her eyes meeting his. His eyes bore no hint of the slightest mockery, but rather glowed with a sweet, amber warmth; his smile was marred by not the slightest twist of a sneer, but shone forth from his face like a beacon of light and good.

All her fairy-tale dreams flooded back into her mind, and try as she might not to, she could not help but think that perhaps fairy-tales were possible after all...

She blinked several times, trying to clear her head of foolish notions and succeeded somewhat. No, she must not let herself be carried away by childish dreams. Once a peasant, always a peasant, that's just the way it is, she thought to herself grimly. So what kind of life did she have before her then? Could she possibly live with herself after giving up what appeared to be a dream come true? And if, though the longer she looked at Meiou the harder it was for her to bear even thinking of it, he was indeed just a cruel nobleman toying with her, if she were to refuse to go with him, what would stop him from forcing her to go anyway? Better to go of her own free will. Besides she wanted to go.

And despite her practical nature, she could feel the dream taking hold of her. Not to mention the fact that the longer she looked at him the more she wanted to rashly push off all her doubts and just go.

Sighing gently, almost sweetly, she gave in. Her eyes sparkled with delight and the corners of her mouth turned up in a shy smile. "I'll go," she said quietly, yet excitement practically dripped from her words as she spoke. "Yes, I'll go, with you."