7th Sea write up of last night
Dec. 3rd, 2004 10:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annwfynKarli sat, motionless.
The room smelt of smoke and stale wine. At her side the Vodacce courtesan was flirting with some man or other. She fluttered her fan coquettishly and let his face draw a fraction closer to hers. Across the room one of the Sacrananka brothers was playing cards. His eyes wandered over her face without registering it. He would have looked at a guard dog in the same way.
The music was loud. Karli counted the beat silently. There was a three step beat to it, but it was slow and ponderous. Courtesans and the men they were entertaining circled each other slowly to the sound of crying violins. A brief wave of nostalgia ran through her for the light beat of the drums and the rapid flute notes that she was used to. She had danced to that, moving so fast her feet had burnt. She remembered the bright colours of the dancing girls' gowns, through which the light had cast mottled shadows on the floor.
The violin hit a particularly high note and Karli cringed silently. Her face didn't move. There had been violins once, she thought, or at least something which had had strings. For a moment a memory flickered. A fire which cast shadows and a wave of blonde hair before her which had smelt of hearth and home. There had been a song, sung to a violin.
I can't remember...
Above her she caught a flicker of movement and saw the other Sacrananka brother standing over her. He smiled engagingly. Bright green eyes surveyed him impassively.
"Karli..." he said. She didn't say anything. What was there to say?
"Karli," he said again. "I was wondering if you could do me a favour...?"
Karli blinked slowly and waited. In some ways this way of speaking to her was still new, still confusing. She had been given her freedom, the man who had bought her had said, but in some ways that was just a word. What did freedom mean? She wasn't sure. She'd never had it before. And now, far from home and far from the Crescent, which was all she had ever known, tattooed and scarred, she felt as tightly imprisoned as she ever had done before.
"There'll be money in it for you," the Sacrananka said enticingly. Karli blinked slowly again. She had never had money, really. Some slaves, like the dancing girls, were given tips. Bright coins to hide under their beds and save towards their manumission. She'd been a bodyslave. They were never given tips. She hadn't really expected to be given anything and now she had this money she didn't know what to do with it. It couldn't buy her freedom because she had been given that. It bought food easily enough and then what does one do with money after that?
Home. Perhaps it would get her home.
She did not say anything, but sat, waiting for the orders.
The Sacrananka looked nervous.
"You know, I never know whether that expression means 'yes' or 'no' from you," he said, shuffling slightly.
"Your wish is my command," she said. The Montaigne words still sounded heavy and unfamiliar to her lips. She was sure her accent was clumsy, not easy to understand.
A woman's voice should be like the stream in the desert. It should be a thing of beauty, a balm to all who hear it.
She decided that silence was probably the better option. Anything had to be better than the hideous noise she was making.
"OK. In approximately ten minutes, when she," and he gestured towards one of the montaigne courtesans "is talking to the doorman over there I would like that empty glass to fall with a loud crash. Can you do that?"
Karli accepted the suggestion silently and then saw the confusion appear on the man's face again. She was not used to anyone doubting that she would do as she was told. A slave does not have the right to disobey orders. She frowned slightly.
"Your wish is my command" she said. He smiled and moved away. Soon she would move. She watched the Montaigne courtesan.
Dancers pranced around each other. Fans fluttered. Woman seemed to heave in their too tight corsets and Karli felt another wave of homesickness and nostalgia pass over her again. Only this time it was not for the Crescent. At the end of the day she remembered the whip and the brutality of the hands in the dark. This time it was for a place she didn't recognise. She wanted crisp cold air and space around her which wouldn't end.
I want to go home
Then she stood up and moved towards the empty glass. She didn't know where home was, yet. This was where she had been given. These were her duties now. She was, after all, trained to obey.
And one day, one day soon, she would go home.
The room smelt of smoke and stale wine. At her side the Vodacce courtesan was flirting with some man or other. She fluttered her fan coquettishly and let his face draw a fraction closer to hers. Across the room one of the Sacrananka brothers was playing cards. His eyes wandered over her face without registering it. He would have looked at a guard dog in the same way.
The music was loud. Karli counted the beat silently. There was a three step beat to it, but it was slow and ponderous. Courtesans and the men they were entertaining circled each other slowly to the sound of crying violins. A brief wave of nostalgia ran through her for the light beat of the drums and the rapid flute notes that she was used to. She had danced to that, moving so fast her feet had burnt. She remembered the bright colours of the dancing girls' gowns, through which the light had cast mottled shadows on the floor.
The violin hit a particularly high note and Karli cringed silently. Her face didn't move. There had been violins once, she thought, or at least something which had had strings. For a moment a memory flickered. A fire which cast shadows and a wave of blonde hair before her which had smelt of hearth and home. There had been a song, sung to a violin.
I can't remember...
Above her she caught a flicker of movement and saw the other Sacrananka brother standing over her. He smiled engagingly. Bright green eyes surveyed him impassively.
"Karli..." he said. She didn't say anything. What was there to say?
"Karli," he said again. "I was wondering if you could do me a favour...?"
Karli blinked slowly and waited. In some ways this way of speaking to her was still new, still confusing. She had been given her freedom, the man who had bought her had said, but in some ways that was just a word. What did freedom mean? She wasn't sure. She'd never had it before. And now, far from home and far from the Crescent, which was all she had ever known, tattooed and scarred, she felt as tightly imprisoned as she ever had done before.
"There'll be money in it for you," the Sacrananka said enticingly. Karli blinked slowly again. She had never had money, really. Some slaves, like the dancing girls, were given tips. Bright coins to hide under their beds and save towards their manumission. She'd been a bodyslave. They were never given tips. She hadn't really expected to be given anything and now she had this money she didn't know what to do with it. It couldn't buy her freedom because she had been given that. It bought food easily enough and then what does one do with money after that?
Home. Perhaps it would get her home.
She did not say anything, but sat, waiting for the orders.
The Sacrananka looked nervous.
"You know, I never know whether that expression means 'yes' or 'no' from you," he said, shuffling slightly.
"Your wish is my command," she said. The Montaigne words still sounded heavy and unfamiliar to her lips. She was sure her accent was clumsy, not easy to understand.
A woman's voice should be like the stream in the desert. It should be a thing of beauty, a balm to all who hear it.
She decided that silence was probably the better option. Anything had to be better than the hideous noise she was making.
"OK. In approximately ten minutes, when she," and he gestured towards one of the montaigne courtesans "is talking to the doorman over there I would like that empty glass to fall with a loud crash. Can you do that?"
Karli accepted the suggestion silently and then saw the confusion appear on the man's face again. She was not used to anyone doubting that she would do as she was told. A slave does not have the right to disobey orders. She frowned slightly.
"Your wish is my command" she said. He smiled and moved away. Soon she would move. She watched the Montaigne courtesan.
Dancers pranced around each other. Fans fluttered. Woman seemed to heave in their too tight corsets and Karli felt another wave of homesickness and nostalgia pass over her again. Only this time it was not for the Crescent. At the end of the day she remembered the whip and the brutality of the hands in the dark. This time it was for a place she didn't recognise. She wanted crisp cold air and space around her which wouldn't end.
I want to go home
Then she stood up and moved towards the empty glass. She didn't know where home was, yet. This was where she had been given. These were her duties now. She was, after all, trained to obey.
And one day, one day soon, she would go home.
