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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 5, 2018 17:57:43 GMT -8
The House:
The pair would travel through an alley that snaked around the side of the tavern before they came to the plot of land that Lekalis and Tilly had now come to own.
~*~
A triangular plot of land, the ruins of what once was an ostentatious, if not a bit squat, building now boasted mold and moss over a stretch of brick and mortar that had been destroyed.
The ruins were collapsed inwards after something had struck down its center. What looked like a balcony once faced the ravine and Weald past it, though it had caved backwards.
The alcove was by no means small, it was actually rather large given the modest sum; though it was apparent that the modesty arose from its closeness to the edge of the Hamlet and its rather immediate demise because of it.
The neighboring buildings around it shared wounds that paralleled the past building's more fatal blow, though they remained standing.
While it all looked rather decrepit, there was a small shack constructed flush to the ruins, seemingly made of what materials could be used from the remains.
That shack was a fair size, six by three meters, with boards closely set. It looked cozy enough, but undeniably a far cry from what could be occupying the lot.
~*~
"I haven't worn a dress in ages!" Tilly piped up, with a small hop over some taller debris scattered in the way.
The act was more an expression of excitement and anticipation than it was out of pure utilitarianism to close the distance to the run-down shack.
She stopped, and slowed, as the soup sloshed dangerously in the bowl. The door was close, anyway.
"I'd like to see how you fare, all dressed up." She gently pushed the door open, and gave a reflexive glance inside before stepping in, leaving the door ajar for Courcy. "Dresses and big, pointy weapons aren't something you see combined too often."
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Post by black379 on Apr 5, 2018 18:33:38 GMT -8
Courcy's eyes widened in disbelief, seeing the skeletal brick remnants of whatever building used to sit behind the tavern. She clambered toward the shack in the nook of the ruins. It was modest to say the least. Yet it had walls and a roof, and just a bit of work would make it more homey than a tavern room.
"Geez! Home sweet home." The redhead peeked inside and turned about once she entered the abode, the door shut behind. Just the two of them, she still felt like she was intruding.
"I was a girl the last time I wore a dress..." Courcy reminisced, pursing her lips. Her mother never washed her dress, her cousin tore it. "Haven't dressed up since I ran from home. It doesn't really suit me."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 5, 2018 18:52:40 GMT -8
Inside, there was only a few bits of furniture: a hay-bed on a wooden frame, and a rickety table with a single chair.
The spots between the boards were packed with dirt as a form of crude insulation, and there was a circle of stones in one corner where a fire had once been lit.
Still, Tilly felt like a queen in her castle, in this house that she owned.
Happily, she set the soup down on the table and planted a hand on her hip.
"Funny how that works? Everyone makes a big fuss about wearing mens' clothes up until you gotta do more than just sit at home. They're terribly convenient. But I'd think you'd look right brilliant in a dress."
She backed up and made to sit at the edge of the hay-bed, leaning her back against the wooden wall. A brow rose as she caught the similarity.
"...When'd you leave home, anyway?"
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Post by black379 on Apr 5, 2018 19:09:34 GMT -8
"I-I've pouted enough today." Courcy dismissed Tilly's question with a wave of her hand. She hesitantly sidled up to the bed, though it may have been a better idea to take the seat at the table. The hellion was overcoming her lost appetite after all.
"You wouldn't really like to know."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 5, 2018 19:59:45 GMT -8
"I won't pry if you'd rather I not." Tilly yawned, reclining back in full against the wall. Her knee was propped up by her boot, which uncouthly hooked the heel onto the edge of the frame.
Her hands fiddled at the brim of her hat, and she considered pulling it down and settling down to sleep.
"But you ought to know I'm terribly intrigued."
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Post by black379 on Apr 5, 2018 20:42:16 GMT -8
While Tilly settled herself on the bed, Courcy ultimately decided against joining her. Though she pulled the chair back from the table and sat in it backwards, her legs on either side of the back, and arms crossed on the top of it. She sighed and rested her chin on her wrist, which still bore a dull pain. At least she wasn't still bleeding.
"I guess..." Still she wore regretful face, as if her mere presence were a bother. "When I was... Must've been half my age now... I loved to help my dad work, but I knew we were barely living. I wanted to do more to help."
Courcy removed one hand from the chair and raked it through the hair at the nape of her neck. She anxiously pulled at one of her braids until it loosened.
"I stole some things. Only... dad got in trouble for it..."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 5, 2018 21:05:26 GMT -8
It was the second time that the woman had mentioned her father; Tilly made to sit up straighter and to look alive out of respect for a no-doubt difficult topic.
"...What happened to him, then?" Tilly only expected the worst, truthfully. She knew the outrage with which the wealthy responded to even the pettiest of thievery.
She squinted at Courcy, as though to imagine a younger version of her.
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Post by black379 on Apr 5, 2018 21:27:46 GMT -8
"He got hanged." Courcy replied in a small voice. Her fingers fidgeted busily to undo her braid.
"I didn't see it. I was too short." The redhead added with a shrug and looked down to her boots. She was guilty for his death, for ruining a family. If she had just kept in her place, she might have been happy now.
"Mom and my uncle, and my cousin, knew it was me. They never let me forget. I put up with it for as long as I could, and then... I left."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 5, 2018 21:44:38 GMT -8
Tilly made a sympathetic wince and hugged herself.
"Why'd you say you bloody killed 'im then? You were just a small thing..." She sighed, slumping forward on her elbows, paining herself on the thought for another moment.
It was not a good world to be a child in.
"You know that's not right? You're meant to protect your little ones from all that. It's not like they know any better."
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Post by black379 on Apr 5, 2018 22:00:22 GMT -8
"I did kill him. It's my fault he got killed." She scoffed and shook her head angrily. It was almost in her mother's voice that she blamed herself even now.
Her uncle chimed in from the back of her mind. 'Rotten girl shoulda hung instead.' Her cousin too 'Nobody loves you. Your daddy neither, cause you killed him!'
Courcy's throat felt tight and she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. "I knew it was wrong. I was so scared, I couldn't say it was me who did it, not daddy."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 5, 2018 22:14:16 GMT -8
"Courcy, that's what parents are supposed to do!" Tilly insisted with a pointed wag of her finger and more vehemence than she had initially anticipated.
"Any decent parent would lay down their own life a thousand times over if it meant that their kid would survive. You need someone to protect you when you're that small." She continued, swiping one thumb down under her coat lapel, as if smoothing out the fabric could release some inner frustration.
"Your father could've spoken up and blamed you, but he didn't. I'd wager that was a decision he made on purpose."
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Post by black379 on Apr 5, 2018 22:31:50 GMT -8
Courcy crossed her arms over the back of the chair again and hid her face in the crook of her elbow. Now that they were in private, she allowed herself to cry.
"B-but he shouldn't've had to! I took him away from mom. A-and we couldn't keep our home. And mom's brother had to feed us too! I fucked it all up!"
She was hardly receptive to Tilly. Blame and guilt was so deep rooted in her from years of scolding and abuse.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 5, 2018 23:11:06 GMT -8
"You were just a child."
Tilly poised one hand against the outer frame of the bed and got to her feet, brushing off the front of her coat.
"S'not like your little self sat down and plotted to get your father hanged. You'd just didn't know what you were doing and made a mistake-- and your father didn't want you to have to die for it."
She reached with one hand to massage at her shoulder.
"You didn't do anything worse than just wanting to help your family."
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Post by black379 on Apr 6, 2018 8:06:50 GMT -8
She continued to pout, but placed her hand on Tilly's, thankful for her support and comfort. Courcy was astonished to have such a caring friend. And more so to be told that she shouldn't be blamed for the consequence of her mistake. Rightly she should have been punished, but her father sacrificed his life for hers.
"I only made it worse." It seemed like her intent hardly ever mattered. When she tried to provide, her family broke apart. When she tried to be strong, she got hurt. When she tried to love, she was left lonely.
Baignard's death was hauntingly identical. Courcy nearly lost her arm, and he chose to heal her, ultimately at the cost of his own life.
"I'm not worth loving that much."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 6, 2018 8:31:18 GMT -8
"That's not fair to say."
Tilly shook her head, one hand drifting upwards to fix her hat atop her head. It brushed against Beansprout, sitting proud and high in the band of her hat; he'd been quiet lately.
...Relatively, for a plant.
She leaned her head to one side.
"Your father thought otherwise, didn't he? He loved you that much."
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