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Post by Velvet Maverick on Nov 1, 2009 1:46:58 GMT -5
Things have been a little slow for the past few days. Velvet hasn’t gone out and stolen anything for her family yet, why? Because it was getting close to the mark of their father’s death; her mother was sulking around the house and her little brother wanted to do nothing but play some games. In which, to keep her family happy, she played with her little brother then went inside and cooked dinner with the little food that they had. Being a thief, a rebel, and taking care of your family was a hard thing to do, but she did it. She did it every day ever since she had been nine years old and her father had lost his job in the beginning.
Speaking of being a rebel, Velvet had put a lot of thought into it. She knew that she blamed the State for killing her father, since if it weren’t for their dumb laws he would still be alive and bringing in the food and money for his family. But instead, she had to visit her father from a grave. Velvet blamed them for that, blamed them for the position that her entire family was in, but what she wasn’t really sure of was the leader of the Rebels. Did he really exist? Or was he just myth? How could someone be a myth if there was a whole group following his methods? His designs? And his beliefs? Then again, he is a leader against a large group of people who are trying to take down the government, he’d have to lay down low so that he didn’t get arrested and executed.
But anyway, Velvet finally had a little time for her to leave her tiny home in Tychite and come to Diaspore for a little bit of pick pocketing. It wasn’t as easy as breaking into someone’s house, putting them to sleep and then walking off with all of their goods, but it was pretty easy since she’s been doing it for so long. Right now tucked away in her little train at the back of her skirt, she had several pouches full of golden coins. She knew that when she got home her mother was going to question her on where she had received so much money and Velvet had thought about telling her mother the truth. But could she really do it? Could she really bring herself to tell her mother that everything that Velvet brought home to her was stolen property? No, she couldn’t do that. It was bad enough that her mother had to live without the love of her life, how was she going to be able to live knowing that her daughter, her oldest child, was a criminal. She already had a lot of things on her plate to deal with; Velvet didn’t want to add another one on the list.
She turned her eyes to the side quickly to notice a man standing at the edge of the side walk. He was dressed relatively nice looking, definitely someone that looked like they carried more than just one pouch of coins. Which Velvet could use, her family was rather tight on money right now, and she needed to get some more. Even though she had several bags hidden behind her, that didn’t mean that each one of them were filled to the top with money. There were some that were lighter than others, right there was a dead giveaway that there were some that were nearly half empty; considering she stole from those that she had seen casually walking down the streets between the several distract areas in her country.
After looking him over a few times, Velvet had decided that it was time to make her move. She pushed herself off of the wall that she had been leaning against and decided to walk in his direction. She kept her eyes cast down towards the ground, so that it looked like she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going (like a lot of teens this day), and finally she had collided shoulders with him. While in the process of that, Velvet had snatched the closest thing that was near her and quickly tucked it tight in her fist.
“Oh.” She commented, looking up at his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you. Just wasn’t really paying attention. Sorry.” She didn’t need the conversation to be any longer, if it were, he was definitely going to notice that there was something missing in his pockets or one of his bags was missing. That happened to her once when she was a child and had first started to pickpocket. She held the conversation for much too long and eventually, she was forced to return the money that she had taken and then explain why she had taken it. She didn’t need another one of those happening again. And since she had more than just the one bag that she had just snatched, she would most likely get arrested. She didn’t want or need that. Her mother definitely didn’t need it, and neither did her little brother. She was supposed to set a good example for him, but here she was stealing money.
Then again, she was forced into this life, having to grow up so quickly when she wasn’t ready too. After all, she was just nine years old when she was forced to take care of her little brother. It wasn’t fair to her or to her family. And this was just another reason to hate the State and why she was a rebel. ---- word count: 937 co-starring: Joscelin listening too: Saw by Hello Zepp
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Joscelin
Administrator
Prince of Dysprosium[M:0]
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Post by Joscelin on Nov 2, 2009 16:22:34 GMT -5
There were many throughout the country of Elysia that protested the happenings and decisions of the Empress proper. There were men and women who lived within small hamlets; living simple fisherman lives. Then there were those who toiled within the tall fields of Elysia's fertile lands. There were those who were forced to bend their backs to the new expedition north and already within the old mining shifts to the far west. There were people who were put to the test of life and many who did not survive the trials that were given unto them. How could one expect another to live off of meager portions of food and nigh no coins to use for their own?
It had always been this way and with knowledge of a rebellion only being told within whispers and naught else; word of mouth, truly. So, what was the truth of this? Who was their heart and core? Some spoke of such happenings beginning from Dysprosium but then some spoke of Thalasa and then others spoke of a small farmland toward the south. Many spoke of an older man and others spoke of a woman bent on revenge. Others spoke of a relative to the Empress Camille and others spoke of a past lover who had come back to take what was his.
No one spoke of the man who was Joscelin William Teimlia.
Cloaked within the guise of a carpenter who had invested in the temple of Dysprosium and used such as a shelter for those who could not afford a meal or even simply seeking a place to lay their heads down. Many looked to Joscelin with their heart within their eyes and hope alight upon their faces, but even then so few knew the truth of him or even the happenings below that very temple. It was there that Joscelin bent over his desk to mark out figures and plannings for the close men and women who worked with him; the men and women who whispered of this rebellion. Yet, even then - those men and women who knew of him and his dealings - knew so little of the man who gave over maps marked with his tasks.
Why?
There were many reasons why they stood up against the Empress. She wronged the people and harmed them. She took advantage of them and beat them until they were bloody and dying. There were men and women who worked until their death and there were orphaned children wandering the slick, serpentine streets of Dysprosium proper. Everyone had a reason and that's why Joscelin was the heart of this rebellion. It's why he was here within Thalasa.
Dressed smartly within a clean pair of slacks and a white crisp shirt that's tucked within the waistband of his slacks; the cuffs undone and rolled to the curve of his elbows and the collar undone to bare his throat. There's a vest smoothed warmly and form-fitting over his torso, and that's hardly making mention of the well-worn out shoes adorning his feet or even the leather satchel across his chest and shoulder; three leather tubes peeking out one opening.
He had been waiting there for the moment and for good reason. He was awaiting Marcus - the six-foot-four-inch-and-two-hunded-forty-pound giant. His guard of sorts; his friend and the one who knew his reason for all of this. So, Joscelin waited under Marcus was done settling their rooms for the night; this port-side Inn that would accept any sort of customer, or customers within this case. His face tips - without even being wary - Joscelin moved with a semblance of nonchalance, and for good reason when Marcus came lumbering out and tucking his Fisherman's cap upon his brow. Then they were moving and...
Bump and then a woman's voice. He tips his face to look down upon her with an easy smile and those blue eyes of his; his mother's eyes. "It's alright, truly," he says before brushing past her. Except there was something wrong. Joscelin knew right then and there that something had happened because he had been a street urchin at one point. He had been one who pilfered food carts and cut men and women's purses. He had stolen to make his way through life. So, Joscelin knew the weight of his coin purse. He knew the weight of what he had and held.
He knew he had been robbed nigh blind!
"What's wrong, sirruh?" Questions Marcus who had been sauntering along and ahead only to realize that Joscelin had stopped and hadn't been walking after. He's looking over his shoulder and eying the woman who continued walking and said nothing to Marcus as he had begun to follow her. Marcus' mouth falls open and his eyes trail after before he's attempting to follow but Joscelin is a quick lad and soon he's reaching out and seeking her wrist to grasp.
"Now, now. Mayhap you should be more mindful of who you steal from," his voice fills her ear then; he's so close he could smell the scent off of her flesh and his breath nearly bathes against her ear. His touch was gentle though; mindful, even. His voice was filled - not with anger - but mild amusement and humour. He couldn't believe someone tried to steal from him!
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Post by Velvet Maverick on Nov 2, 2009 20:36:03 GMT -5
For so many years, after adjusting to this new way of life, Velvet had gone unnoticed when stealing someone’s coin purse. Usually she would take a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that the person hadn’t noticed but there were a few times where there was one person that patted themselves down, and found out that they had been robbed, then looked in her direction when she so happened to be looking at them. In her case, that was bad timing but it was a good thing that she could run faster than the old men and women that she happened to be stealing from.
As she walked away, Velvet tucked her hands casually behind her back so that she could tie the coin purse with the other purses that she happened to take that day. She had told herself that she was going to take a few more bags before she hid herself in an alleyway and count the change in her purses. Depending on the amount, she was going to by her mother a large goose for her to cook for dinner. She knew that it had been a long time since her mother had been able to cook goose for the family, and she wondered if she had ever missed it. She knew that it was her father’s favorite dish, but on a day like today, it just seemed to fit perfectly.
When Velvet was in the middle of fixing the train attached to the back of her skirt, she felt s a man grab onto her wrist, and suddenly, she turned about to strike till her eyes for some reason had locked onto the giant of a human being standing behind the wealthy man that had stopped her. As he spoke to her, Velvet had found herself to be in complete and utter shock that he had actually caught on to what she had done. There was another reason why she had been so shocked, was that usually when someone had realized that they had been robbed, they normally screamed it out like a bunch of dancing baboons. But not this man, he had a docile look to his eye as he address Velvet and her criminal ways, almost as if he had understood where she was coming from.
No, there’s just no way that a man like him
[/i] could possibly ever understand what she had to go through ever since she had been brought into this world. He never had to watch his father slowly wither away as he worked in the mines, watched his mother clean someone else’s home for just a few coins a week, and never had to take care of a young sibling. He was wealthy, well off in his family, and there was just no way that he could possibly understand the kind of pain that her family had been through and is still going through. Velvet looked at the man hard in the eyes, trying to search for something. Well, basically she was looking for something that would allow her to put doubt into his thoughts rather than putting everyone in the town asleep so that she could get away. But with the rather large and scary looking guard standing behind him, Velvet didn’t think that she was going to be able to get far. So there goes a few more coins. Actually a lot more coins. She could feel the weight of his coin purse pulling down on the belt that was wrapped securely around her skirt to hold it up. There was disappointment in her face as she pulled her hand free from his grasp, reached behind, untied the coin purse and dropped it back into his palm. “You won’t call for the guards, will you?” She questioned, her head tilting to the side. If he were to lie to her, and call for help, Velvet would have no choice than to put everyone around them asleep. She didn’t want too, Velvet would much rather use her power at night to keep the people of the residence that she was currently breaking into asleep. She’s never really used it out in the open before, and it would look horrible if she did, after all, everyone would see her face, and know who she was and be able to label her as a common thief, arrest her, and probably put her to work in the mines like her father. She couldn’t put her mother through that, or her little brother. Hopefully, he was different than all of those other wealthy people in the district. Maybe he would understand that she has to do what she can to protect her family and to feed them. She was just like her father in so many ways. Maybe that was why her mother could never look at her in the eye. Maybe that was why her mother expected so much from her. Because she had the same free-spirit, determination, and sense of protection like her father did. Well, that did explain a lot about herself and why her mother had been so distant lately. “Please sir…” Her voice softened, and it was about time that she used her angelic like features to her advantage. She knew that there were more than a few rich men out there that would fall for a pretty face. But then again, there were those that didn’t fall for anything and it was either their way or the highway. If this man actually ended up like that, Velvet was going to have a problem. She didn’t think that she was going to be able to out run the long legs of the bodyguard that he had standing behind him. Now, she suddenly began to think of everything that was probably going through his head. Why didn’t she have a job? It wasn’t that easy for a woman her age to get a job. Usually, she should have been married already on her way to have her first baby. But how could that ever happen her family was in so much poverty? After all, it was the parents of the bride that paid for everything and her family just didn’t have the money. Hence why she became a thief. [/blockquote][/blockquote] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - word count;; 1,044 co-starring;; Joscelin listening too;; Ten Thousand Fists artist;; Disturbed [/i][/center]
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Joscelin
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Prince of Dysprosium[M:0]
All Rubbish Plumbing!
Posts: 20
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Post by Joscelin on Nov 8, 2009 15:06:30 GMT -5
He was grateful that she wouldn't fight this. Joscelin wasn't one for fighting but that's not to say that he hadn't. There were many who couldn't believe that Marcus - the man at his heels - had been a tiny lad at one point. That he had been picked on by the others for his small stature. Joscelin had been there with his mother's soft looks and had beaten any boy who had thought to cross Marcus. Then Marcus had grown - a growth spurt, truly. Now the lad was a giant of a man with broad shoulders, a wide chest and solid abdomen. Despite his size such belied his true agility as well; a skilled boxer. He protected Joscelin as Joscelin had him. So, yes, Joscelin didn't wish to fight, but if tested...well, he had no qualms about hitting a woman to put her back within her place; after all, this was his coins, and yet, not.
This was money garnered from those of Dysprosium and his own savings more or less. It's coins being used to purchase the rights to casks of food and fresh water for the people of Dysprosium. Joscelin was far from being the rich lad many might see with his form-fitting clothing because these articles were given unto him from his father's old clotheschest and gifts from those of the seamstresses he had assisted long ago within Dysprosium. He was utterly grateful when feeling the weight of the coin purse within his palm once more. He couldn't help the smile crossing his mouth then at the mention of the guards. Irony, truly!
"I won't," he says simply. He could only imagine the face these men were looking for - the imagined head of the snake. No one knew what he looked like. No one knew that the Prince of Dysprosium - the caretaker for the peasants and those down on their luck - was the man behind all of this. That he was the man behind the stage-coach robberies and halts within trading routes. That he was the man damaging expeditions to the south and soon to the north. That he was the man...
"I said I won't," he adds swiftly and more firmly this time. His eyes search her face then. She's a pretty young woman to say the least; comely. He liked women. He liked looking at them. He liked touching them. Either way, sending her off to be put away would leave him as the hypocrite within all of this. "You do have swift hands though," Joscelin confesses as he meets her gaze evenly and works his purse back to his waist; securely shoving such within place.
"Sirruh? We best be going," Marcus says over Joscelin's shoulder but Joscelin holds up his hand to still the action. Joscelin seemed taken then. Why? Maybe because he saw himself there. Maybe he saw the young boy struggling to live upon the harsh, sludge-slick streets of Dysprosium all over again. He had seen the remains of his father. He had seen what the State can drive the people of Elysia to do. They had protested and his father had died protecting something that should have been nothing. His mouth purses then as he reaches up and bravely touches her cheek.
"You are far too pretty to be put away and out here with such swift hands as yours. If you had stolen what was mine then I would have bowed out but what you have taken from me was not mines to give. You have taken the hope of Dysprosium proper, and that I must have." There's a pause and Marcus behind him shuffles quietly with a more than evident frown.
Joscelin. He's an eccentric man. He's different to say the least.
"What's your name?" He asks of her suddenly and his lips part.
He's smiling.
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