Thread: The Bet (Darjeeling X QB)

So, Shane, how do I look? Lawrence took time to freshen up, adding a slight touch of red to liven up his features. After dusting himself the boy presented himself to his sister who promptly sneered at him. Pompous, unrealistic and overly padded. And is that rosedust I see? Come now there is no masculinity to be found in powdering! Lawrence had no response, sighing as he turns to face her. Look, I know you dislike high society rituals but you ha- w-what are you doing?! The Blonde tried to ward away the sponge. When it came to a ball in the Lower House he spared no expense to dress suitably well rumor has it that even the Queen's Aide would attend the inauguration of The Wallace Hallway so Lawrence felt it was only right to look as best he could. Wha-! H-hey! Stay away from me, Shane! He tried to push off his sister away, but the pinkish-blonde lady only pressed further. Don't resist, Lawrence this is for your own good! Huh?! Own good? This rosedust was worth hundred silver pounds! Why are you just trying to- HUAAAH! Just stay still an- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKK! CRASH His stand-up came tumbling down, make-up and fineries knocked aside to the ground. The Merchant's son pushed his sister off the side. For all that he loved Shanoah for, he often disliked getting ready for her. When she was younger she seldom minded being asked to put on corsets or flowing dresses but as the tomboy grew older she became more conscious about putting on frivolous dresses. And definitely about how he dressed too. She was always opposed to him dusting up, even if the nobles did it then it was detestable in her eyes. Agh! My Horse-balm! Guuuh! You ruined it again, Shane! Ruined it? What are you talking about?! You've no need to dust up like a harlot You're wonderful the way you are! Lawrence was frustrated, but these were just ordinary arguments they would have. The way I am isn't enough! What will the Queen's aide say if he saw me unpowdered like a street urchin!? I will become a laughing stock! Shanoah was always so touchy about dressing up who could blame her, with the frilly dresses and the rib-breaking corsets she had to put through. Her preferred code of dress were her tunic, cotton slacks and loafers. Not even silk! She disliked bent colors, as she called it. She had a dislike towards nobles and she made no secret of it. Perhaps that must be why he tried to distance himself from her... The young lady merely folded her arms at her chest and sneered at his suggestion. Not like they would have anyways. You know thse upstarts don't like merchants anyways. Well I am not going to let you powder no matter what, Lawrence! Not even if you treat me to O'Rieley's! She pouts dramatically. Lawrence sighed. Seriously, did every dressing hour have to pass by so stressfully?!size What good's this one if her proof's soiled?! Damnit Markus, I didn't ask to be disappointed now, did I?! The lash sounded out loudly, prompting Kyra to shiver. Thankfully the crop was not aimed towards the slave for some time now the blonde noble named Edgar was quick to aim his implement at the slave trader. Glancing into the verdant eyes of a black-haired slave, the noble talked with distaste over at the slaver who covered with his hands over his head. Quite a funny reversal with a noble laying lashes onto their cruel vendor. The woman in question, however, definitely had more coming to her. Kyra knew very little having changed hands she knew only of a life in slavery. Packaged on rotting wooden stockades she was roughly led into the holding corrals of a marble building. As one of the few slaves whose proof had yet to be soiled, she could only shiver not wanting to imagine the eyes of the greedy fellow who would take her virginity. And in these corrals, she met her. The only word that Kyra had called the woman was by the name 'Emerald'. Her eyes were so beautiful, utterly captivating like the verdant shade of the trees she once glimpsed in a fantasy where she was free...raven-black hair glistened even under the repression of slavery. She was a wonderful existence...utterly spellbinding.. CRACK! The whimpering Slave trader was quick to dispel the slave girl from her thoughts. Shying away as she tries to cover her bare-naked from with her shackled hands, she tried hard not to rouse the blonde nobleman's fury. He walks right up to Emerald, his crop resting right against her chin and forcing her head to tilt up to look at him. You have pretty eyes. I'd love to drink that in while I'm pumping you full with my seed! The curly-haired nobleman spat on her face, definitely taking advantage of the fact her hands were shackled above her head. The last time she had free hands...a guard broke his nose against her hand. Even after a good round of salt dunking she still remained defiant, that dangerous gleam in her eyes more than enough of a challenge for all who would gaze her way. Yet, the noble continued to derisively insult her in between capricious gropes with his gloved hands. Kyra was envious of Emerald. She could only wish to have a fraction of her courage...