The crimson streets of London.

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by TheFoxMaiden, Apr 12, 2012.

  1. The year was 1888 and I was still in my youth. Traveling the old cobble stone streets of London. Women passed me by with their hair spiraling down their necks. A restraining hand crooked in the arms of top hatted men. Male eyes filled with lust as they stared down low cut hems of fashioned gowns. A odd distaste filled my mind. Was it a unchecked hatred that began to form in the pits of my heart, or was something in my past that demanded to be released. At that time I wasn't sure. I simply let my green gaze fall to the ground. It seemed longer I stared into the crowd more my thoughts ran into abnormality. How could I have such a treacherous mind. Taking a deep breath I focused all my attention on leather tipped points of my heeled shoes. One would disappear beneath the light blue fabric of my flowing dress, while the other lead the way.
    These streets were embedded in my memory. My vision never seemed to be needed. To my left was the Smith's Bakery. Several rolls would be glistening behind the letter printed windows, and to my right was the town library. The sounds of large oak doors opening and closing seemed more frequent today. I'm sure Mrs. Cravette was having a fit from all the noise. She was the current librarian. Recently widowed, and a grouchy old hag. The same distaste came back into my soul. No matter how hard I tried to distract myself it was always waiting. Like a coiled viper ready to strike.
    Before I could finish my thoughts the sound of a door bell rang before me. "Ring ring." It was the local tavern, I had managed to get their in a hurry. Lifting my eyes to the weathered sign that swung lightly from a small breeze. The letters etched deeply into the wood read, "Main street brothel." It was always amusing that it was called a brothel. The word it self was displeasing. "To waste away." I muttered the words aloud. With one gloved hand I reached out to the rusted handle.
    Pulling the door slowly open, candle light filled my gaze. Circle tables were abundant in the room, and cards littered the floor. Several eyes lifted to meet my own. Odd it would be to see me alone. A woman without a man hanging on her arm was usually a negative sign. However, I didn't care what they would think. I'm safe in my own mind. Serenity thought to herself as she walked quickly over to a empty table in the back. She lifted her gaze to stare emptily at the bar. Several bottles of bourbon stacked to the ceiling. Though she was not thirsty just amused by her own reflection. A noble of sorts she would seem. Her wealth of red hair spiraled down her back. Expensive jewelry graced her neck to lead to the finest silks of her dress.
  2. She stood on the indoor balcony looking down. This was her first week there and already she hated it. Not that I thought I would like it in the first place. She stood with one booted foot sticking through the railing, the stance raising her knee slightly and it showed the layers of skirts and the leggings below them. Her arms were crossed over the top of the railing and she was leaning on them looking down. Her dark hair and eyes surveying the crowd of men below her. None of them were really interesting to her, and so far today none of them had been interested in her. Unfortunate for her. At that thought she smirked for that was what women of her profession were known as...unfortunates, and unfortunately, if she didnt get a gentsoon, she probably wouldnt eat today. She shrugged it off and started to look away from the floor when the doors opened and a lone woman walked in. All she could think was that this woman appeared to be way too high class to be here, and she couldnt be an unfortunate, of course, looks could be decieving. But to her this woman seemed very well to do, and she wondered where the man was. She leaned over the balcony just a little farther to watch this woman for she seemed the most interesting thing in the tavern today.
  3. Serenity couldn't help the deep sigh that escaped her lips. Her nose wrinkled and brows furrowed with displeasure. The air was polluted with the sent of alcohol and musk. Gloved fingers thudded against the wooden table. Why did I even bother coming here? The question simmered into her mind, but Serenity already knew the answer. Times had grown hard, and without a male provider one like her would not survive. Already her green gaze began to shift amongst the men. Some wore dark colored suits, and a cocky smiles. The all to knowing sign of wealth wasn't enough to catch her attention. She needed someone less visible. A rich farmer from out of town, or a common butcher would suffice. Serenity thought to herself. Still she searched the drunken crowds of testosterone. Where are you? Serenity mouthed out with ruby shaded lips.
    Then to her surprise there he was in the far corner of the bar. Slightly shaded from the flickering candles. No wonder she didn't notice him sooner. The dusty chocolate colored slacks hung loosely from his chiseled legs. A white tunic stretched across his broad shoulders, and a wealth of blonde hair was pulled back at the nap of his neck. Slowly she pushed her chair back, and stood. A small seductive smile was forced onto her delicate face, and that same distaste filled her mouth. Raising her head high she was about to strut her way over to her chosen prey, but a set of eyes paralyzed Serenity from moving. A dark haired vixen stared back at her, as if judging from a distance. How long have you been watching me? The question sparked in the depths of her gaze.
  4. Kate stared at her from the balcony as the woman scanned the crowd of men and started forward towards one. Is she really a woman like me, or just out for some excitement? She wondered as she moved slowly along the railing to get a better look at the newcomer. As she made it to the top of the stairs Kate noticed the woman looking up at her. She could see the questioning look and almost mirrored it perfectly. She really wanted to know what the hell she was going to do. Why would someone who looked like her and carried herself like that be in a place like this? Kate tilted her head to the side and gave this woman a look like Go ahead, I wanna see what youre going to try.
  5. Now isn't the time for mind games. Serenity thought to herself as she began to walk again. Her whole body seemed to change then. A seductive sway rolled her hips. She flashed her teeth with a predatory smile. The very life seemed to slip from her eyes as she shifted her gaze. Serenity needed to focus on the given task. He was only a few feet from her now. The sound of her heels clicking against the wood planked floor drew his attention. Like most men she instantly intrigued him. Was it the fact her intentions were clearly shown, or was he a normal dog like most men. She could of scurried over like a rat and he still would've tried to court her.
    Lifting one hand she flipped the long corkscrew curls into the air before taking a seat beside him. "Pray tell you are not a commoner from this area. What brings you to merry oh London." Serenity said with forced curiosity. "I am not from these cobble stone streets. My heels only touch dusty tracks." He replied with a male amused smirk. Slowly her hand slid the short distance between them. Her touch was gentle against his knuckles. "Tell me how to make you feel more welcome." Her brows raised as each word slipped from her lips. "My name is Arther Brolstic, and do as wish my lady." Arther said with lust burning in his eyes. He knew what type of woman she was after all. A harlot in fine ladies clothing. She curled her fingers around his to hand before standing. Gently she tugged at him to follow her to the tavern's doors. Without any hesitation he followed. Serenity glanced behind her to look at Kate. The look of malicious intent burned in her eyes.

  6. He stepped onward, lost in the great city of London. His steps made a sort of music if he listened close enough, his right foot slamming down heavier than his left. This was no place for a half-bred German-French young man to be wandering. Every corner smelled of piss and sweat. Every alley was filled with the slum of the streets. Whores and masters, which he had to assume that's where he was headed. His broad body and angled face was something for the unhappy, unnoticed duchesses of London to be recognized and fawned over. The things that people of the city allowed was near revolting. The chains thrown upon his back was evidence of that enough. He had already been proven untrustworthy in the fields because of his attempted escape. A prisoner of war was still a prisoner, even if that war was homelessness. His 'master' led him like a dog up to the brothel house, ready to sell him for a pretty penny.

    Devon hesitated a moment at the entrance, knowing very well what this low-lit back alley kind of place meant for a young man like him. It meant all kinds of 'clients' male, female, young, old, pretty, ugly, healthy, or more likely diseased had access to him at any point in the day. It meant sexual forcing. But worse, it meant that they planned to make him a eunuch.
    "Move it!" the man in the expensive clothes said, shoving him forward into the ground.
    Devon tasted the filthy dirt, filled with spilled beer and seed alike. And it filled his mouth as surely as if it had been shoveled inside. Humiliation tasted worse in his mouth, like cold vomit.
  7. James chuckled and swallowed some more ale. He clutched his arm around a complete stranger, joining him in his song and swaying slightly from side to side.
    "Oh merry me oh merry meeeee!" he shouted, voice raised above the babble of the tavern. In his drunken stupor he noticed the woman in her fine clothes leading a man to the entrance. He lurched towards them.
    "Care to share?" he said to the man, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and smacking his lips suggestively. He tripped and burst into a fit of giggles, "oops."
    He staggered slightly and turned back to his singning partner who had gathered more people, all now screeching with beers in hands. James saw some sneaking away to the women on the balconey. He had a mind to join them but decided against it and turned back to finish his singing and get another beer.
    "Oi!" he shouted, "where were we?"
  8. Devon glared at the drunken man, bearing his teeth. His owner did not appreciate the nasty look when he was trying to sell him to the brothel and pressed him into the dirt with his boot. Devon growled, clawing at the dirt floor, moving like a wild animal.
    "Ich werde dich toten wenn zu schlaft!" Devon hissed, knowing that his owner could not understand a word of German.
    But his owner just laughed and yanked him to his feet. He nodded at the owner of the brothel, and the owner nodded back, in their eyes, a dark understanding. That simple movement meant a slow, agonizing death to a once free man like Devon. It meant being lowered to below a slave, below the cattle, below the very dirt he walked on. To have a man have so much power over another was disgusting, and forcing payment out of his body was humiliating. His temporary owner guided him to a back room, where the bartender could examine the 'goods.'

    "Have you damaged this one like the last one you sent? That last girl you sent was nothing more than a collection of broken bones! She died of infection shortly after you sold her to me," the bartender lied, knowing the girl was attending to clients upstairs.

    "Let us put the past where it belongs. I saw this one and knew you could make something of him. He has a pretty face and can be broken in with a little persuasion. I saved him from execution, so he should be grateful. If he tries to run, every bobby in London will be there to take him to the gallows. No need to waste a bullet on this trash." his owner slammed him against the wall.

    "Don't damage the goods! How well is he gifted?" the bartender asked, lifting Devon's chin to inspect his face.
    "He IS German." the tall brute said, in a matter of factly way.
    "But his face is French. It's no surprise he tried to run from you, ay?" the bartender joked and they laughed, "How old are you boy?"

    Devon glared at them, "one hundred and five, you slimy English bastards."
    He was slapped for that, "The boy is twenty. Please ignore his spirit."
    "No, no! I think it will be good for men to have something to conquer. I like it! I'll give you a round of free drinks to square off your last debt you owe me."
  9. Kate watched in silence as the mysterious woman changed her gait and walked over to the man. ha, you are no different than me, no better than me, but you have no place here. Kate could see what this woman was now just as easily as the man she was sitting with could. and she smiled in satisfaction as he was led off. as she saw the fire burning in this woman's eyes Kate sent the look right back. She didnt know what the look was for, but she gave it back at full force. From one kind of predator to another, kate knew this game and would not back down.

    As the woman left the tavern with the well dressed man Kate moved and headed downstairs. she needed clients and she was honestly curious about where this woman was from and why in the name of god she was so wealthy for a woman in this profession. she made her way down the stairs slowly and onto the main floor of the tavern. She bumped into a few men and women here and there, but she didnt care, she was on a mission. at the door she paused, taking a deep breath and stepped outside. she was going to give this woman a head start, but she didnt want to lose her.
  10. Serenity shifted her emerald gaze back to the handle. Lifting her free hand she reached out, but before she could make contact the door swung open. Her eyes flew wide with shock. The man before her held a mask of hatred and deception. Despite his appearance that wasn't the most startling part. Behind him was a young french looking boy. Abuse could be seen all over his skin. Not to mention his master lead him inside to only shove him to the ground. Serenity parted her lips to protest, but quickly shut them when a drunken idiot approached her. Alcohol drenched his chin, and spat out with each word he spoke. Care to share? Serenity repeated in her mind. Actually she was have tempted to take him along. He deserved the same treatment her current prey would receive. How could he walk past the current drama without even passing a glance. Then again she was glad he hadn't. None of her kind wanted pity, nor would they give it out freely. Turning back to the door she completely ignored the stranger.
    Quickly she grabbed onto the handle and flung the door open. Please no more distractions. Serenity thought to herself, as she pulled her companion out into the early hours of night. Looking over her shoulder she inspected his face. The look of lust and anticipation answered. Most would find this man incredible handsome, but to Serenity he was just another meal ticket. She quickly lead him to a near by abandon building. A forced giggle escaped her lips as she spoke, "I hope you aren't afraid of the dark." With out waiting for him to respond she went to a loosely boarded window. The gap between each wood panel was large enough for them to squeeze through. Once inside the ruins Arthur wasted no time. He reached out quickly to grab hold of her other wrist. With one fluent motion he yanked Serenity into his chest.
    Her eyes flew wide with confusion. "We haven't discussed prices yet......" She said quickly as she tried to take a few steps back. Still he did not release her, "Consider this on the house." He replied in a masculine whispered before he crushed his lips to hers. Bile rose quickly in Serenity's throat, and male loathing quickly followed.

  11. Devon listened vaguely as the men bickered over price. Their words swirled in and out of his ears as if he were drowning, the sting on his cheek causing a high pitched whine to annoy him. Eventually, the bartender won and Devon's master handed him the key. His old master grumbled as he flew out of the door for his round of drinks. A young barmaid came in. She wasn't the prettiest thing here, but her endowed bosom made up where she lacked.
    "He's saying that you gave him a free round of drinks for the night, should I-?"
    "Yes, Melody. Slip him a little something to make it go by faster. Where's Serenity?"
    "I saw her moving out the door with a client. No one went with her," Melody said.
    "Send Jack after her. Have him take this boy with him. Get him to learn the trade better before I send clients to him," the bartender grumbled, unlocking the chains that held Devon's feet together before turning to him, "If you fuck this up, I will send you to the gallows after I send you to a group of lonely men, understood?!"
    Devon could hardly understand what he was saying as Jack came in and ushered him out the door, his wrists still bound together. Everything went by in a flash of muted London colors. The women pretending to laugh, the hot bodies opposed to the cold night, the weak lamps that flashed as he ran by, following this 'Jack.' It wasn't until he had been running for a while did he actually realize that Jack held the long end of the chain. Not so trusted after all it seemed.
  12. ((waiting for others to reply before i do :D))
  13. (( sorrry...i will catch up, continue on without me. i just started a new job, and its making me a zombie...*sniffle*))
  14. (Zombies aren't any fun.... They just get hungry a lot)
  15. ((ill post again later today then))
  16. Small hands rose against the heavily muscled chest of her so called suitor. The need for space was overwhelming. With all her strength Serenity pushed at him. Arthur only lifted his head to laugh in her face. "You think you would win a war of strength small one?" His voice dripped with male amusement. Rage shook Serenity to her very core. How dare he try to take away what is mine! I will not be over thrown! The words shimmered into the red haze of her anger. One hand fell to the gapping material that revealed her busty cleavage. Between her bossoms was the cold steel handle. Quickly she withdrew a sharp blade. Plunging it deep into his jugular, his eyes flew open in shock. Arthur's hands flew from her bottom to grab at his blood soaked throat. Serenity only thrusted the sharp edge deeper. Blood splattered across her flushed cheeks, as she watched his skin meet the hilt.
    "You may win in strength, but this is a war of maliciousness. Frankly I already won." Her voice trailed off into a cruel whisper. Arthur's will slowly slipped away, and he fell to his knees. Serenity withdrew the knife to only stare at the pool of blood on the dusty floor. "I can see a crimson reflection Arthus isn't it a glorious occassion!" Serenity said with the rush of the kill surging through her veins. Lifting her gaze she stared into his eyes. The life slowly faded from his eyes and he collapsed face first onto the ground.
    Serenity bent down to clean her weapon on the white crisp fabric of his shirt. Before tucking it back into her cleavage. She had a lot of work to do before she could leave. Quickly she searched his whole body for anything valuable. "Three hundred dollars, golden wedding band, and a silver pocket watch. Cheap!" She said while pocketing each item in a small hand bag that was tied to her waist.
  17. Ryder would walk around the streets of london lost looking around his hazel optics gazing at the busstiling commotion going on ahead, he'd shift his view twords a female then look away he would tread his feet across the path and watched.
  18. ((need more to post then ill continue)
  19. (( no ones posting))
  20. ya ive notice ill just continue on with the story this afternoon :D my character wasnt involved with them atm anyway))