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TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:oF3bbUSm Tue 11 Jul 2023 03:54:41 No.5708963 View View Report

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The new arrival, Narces, nods vigorously without ever taking his eyes off of you. Having seen to it that you will be minded in his absence, the cook with the garlic starts to pick his way around the stacks and of stuffs and supplies, heading towards you. You do what you can to move out of his way, but unfortunately you don;t make quite enough space, as the cook with the garlic ends up brushing against you as he passes. It was just his shoulder against your elbow but all the same you find yourself getting embarrassed. Embarrassed enough that you end up apologizing as you press yourself harder against the wall to make more room for him.

"S-sorry about that."

At first he just chuckles, but once he is on the other side of you, he rejoins with -

"Oh, no - the fault is all mine."

And with that, he leaves you with Narses - who almost looks as uncomfortable as you feel, rocking back and forth on his feet. After the moments start to drag on a bit, he asks -

"So ... what is all of this about then?"

Having finally come to terms with how preposterous it sounds for a presumed maid to say that she rented a room for her Master's hand-cart, you simply say -

"I ... I have some business to conduct, with the Master of the house."

"Oh."

You think that is the end of it, but a second later -

"Ohhh..."

Fraying Hell, just what does he think you mean? Does - damn it all, does this idiot think you are streetie too? By the Maker's Mercy, can you walk into a public house without being presumed to be a prostitute? You are seriously considering explaining the true nature of the business simply to get this nonsense off of your head when the cook with the garlic returns - with someone who is not the proprietor. However, before you can work yourself up into a panic over this, the new arrival speaks up -

"A good-day to you, lass. My father has gone off to the house of an acquaintance, but before he quit here for the day, he made mention of you and your cart. I'll take you to it now."

So it is that all of your fears about losing your cart and its content are definitively mules. Relief hits you much like a breaker does a piling - but you cannot dwell on your victory overlong, as the young Master has already turned around and begun to head back into the house, leaving you to rush after him - moving awkwardly and painfully from the hindrance of your bundles. You do however, manage to pass the cook with the garlic without brushing up against him, which you will consider another, smaller victory. And though it comes at the cost of some painful jostling, your long legs manage to catch up to the young Master before he passes out of this particular room. As you fall in behind him, he looks back over his shoulder while still moving forward. For a moment, the only sounds are the footfalls underneath the two of you, and the bustle of the kitchen behind, but then -

"Do you need help with that?"

TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:y83BI9xQ Sun 05 Jun 2022 15:15:33 No.5294704 View View Report

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“Beneath the Boardwalk! With a Refinery falling to pieces right above you?! Whatever for?”

“I figured that someone might have fallen into the water, and gotten swept under the piles. The idea was that I could rescue them. I already knew my way around down there, Ossavian showed me where you could find mussels in the little tidewater pools down there once.”

“But I didn’t find anyone – living or dead. I guess it hadn’t been long enough for anyone to wash ashore. And down there I stepped in … something. Its what did my boots in. But it wasn’t all bad. I found a lot of odds and ends – and talents. A lot of talents. I … That’s why I want the boots. If I had some tougher boots, then I –”

While the Cobbler has clearly been taken in by your story, it is just as clear that he does not approve of your escapades. But before he raises any objections, he glances down and finally gets a good look at the remains of the boots that you were issued with your Spotted Cloak.

“You wear men’s boots.”

It is not a question, and even if it was, you would not know how to answer it satisfactorily. So instead, you just keep quiet. A moment or two passes, before the Cobbler speaks again – quieter than before, but with a noticeable edge in his voice.

“Who gave them to you?”

>Please choose ONE of the following explanations:
>Your husband, who has been dreaming of getting out of the Mount for years now, has gotten serious about buying a small farm in the Interior. When you outgrew your last pair of sandals, he found an old pair of work boots for you to wear instead.
>Your father gave you these boots as part of your dowry, presumably intending for your husband to wear them. But when your better half got serious about buying a small farm in the Interior, he decided to cut spending back drastically. When you outgrew your last pair of sandals, he gave you these to wear instead of buying you a new pair.
>Your master gave you these boots as part of your uniform. Apparently, they belonged to a footman previously in their employ. You do not dare say anything about it, as it is, their family business is not doing well, and you fear that they might fire you and hire someone willing to work for room and board instead, which would throw a wrench into your husband’s plans to buy a small farm in the Interior soon.

TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:mwXQWYqI Sat 16 Apr 2022 21:27:24 No.5232279 View View Report

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You consider looking back over your shoulder to see where the flames are, but you decide against it, worried that you would somehow get disorientated in the process. As you keep moving, your light headedness becomes more and more akin to dizziness, which considering that your life depends on you walking in a straight line …

And your chest – before, it hurt. Now, you would call it agony.

There is at least a silver lining to that, though. The one thing that you are certain of is that you have kept your mouth and nose shut up as tight as a worm’s ass, so whatever you are feeling in your chest right now, if it is getting worse, then it has to be the effects of air deprivation and not smoke inhalation, right? Well … now that you think about it, perhaps they are not mutually exclus–

You walk face first into something wooden, but before you can even form a coherent thought about it, it gives way … and you stumble through. Doggedly, you just keep moving, hoping that you keep your heading straight. Your lungs feel as if a pair of invisible hands have slid inside your breast and are wringing them both. Your strides now have all of the precision of a drunk derelict. For all you can see at the moment, your eyes might as well be shut – for all you know, they are. And your head – it has gone from tension at the temples and a touch of light headedness to feeling as if it has been hollowed out and it is in the process of being worked over with one of those steam-hammers.

And it is because your head is hurting so bad that it takes you so long for you to realize that the wooden whatever you walked through a moment ago was the door that you were looking for.

You force your eyes open, as far as they will go. They are burning like coals in a brazier, and it is hard to make anything out … but for the first time since you entered the smoke-choked room behind you, you can clearly make out the beam from the pocket-lantern. You do not know where you are, but at the moment the only thing that matters is that there is no smoke in this room.

You had clenched your mouth so tightly, that the simple act of just opening your mouth hurts. And as you take your hand off of your nose while you start greedily sucking down air in these quick, reedy-sounding breaths, you discover that you were pinching your nose so tightly that you started bleeding. And as dangerous as leaving blood behind is, at the moment you are beyond caring. You sit down, then, without even bothering to try to shift the swag stashed in your dress that you have sinched shut and slung over your shoulder, you just lie down on the rough-hewn planks. Blood pounds in your ears, but beyond that, the room is quiet. Quiet enough that you can still make out the firing merrily blazing away in the other room. Quiet enough that for the first time since you came down to Oiler’s Wharf, you can actually hear the waves underneath you.

Maybe … maybe the Refinery is not as bad off as you thought?

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