Cheese and Crackers [A Roleplay Group] discussion
Colonial Roleplay
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Colonial Roleplay
message 1:
by
Mandy
(new)
Sep 01, 2010 02:29PM
Start when you have a charrie!
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((No problem. I'm doing the same thing. =) ))"
((awssie))
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Bridin watched from the shadows as the men barged into her middle class home bearing guns and all softs of things that looked harmful. The five year old girl stayed silent as a mouse -- like her mama told her -- and stood still.
"You!" a scary voice yelled, erupting in hr ears like trumpets way off key. Bridin heard a loud noise and a scream, opening her eyes to catch a glimpse. She immediately closed them again as her mother fell to the ground, blood blossoming on her ivory chest.
Her father was a strong man, but they soon had him restrained. Bridin cried out that time. "Papa!" His dark chocolate eyes, as warm as his ebony skin, filled with liquid fire. Tears. "Papa!"
The men were annoyed at this girl's calls. Who was she? They shot the black man quickly and his body fell just short of his daughter's hiding place. His lifeless eyes -- once so bright and loving -- stared into her own.
When the scary-men found her they dusted her off, told her she was fine, and shipped her to her grandmother's house. Her mother's side no less. They had no reason to think she was anything but an unfortunate little white girl who'd been caught up in some trouble.
~Now- Plymouth, Mass.~
Fifteen-year-old Bridin McCatherty's bright eyes were, for once, dimmed. Her hands were roped together infront of her and her ankles were attached by two loosely tied circlets and a short connecting rope. Her skin, creamy and unblemished as silk, was the colour of milky coffee. She looked like a girl with no troubles but the fact that she spent a moment too long in the sun. Her hair was the colour of her mother;s, only a few shades darker and curly like her father's. Her rubious lips were delicate and strong at the same time: careful and serene, yet full of power and will. Despite orders and oppression, deceit and familial betrayal, Bridin, the half-breed, stood tall.
That day's slave auction had begun.
When Tristan, David, and Molly Thomas were young children, they had a rich life. They never thought about the difference of people. How they lived or were treated. They never thought about the people who worked on their plantations, how they were never payed and how they were beaten. No, they were carefree children who grew up happily. They always had what they wanted. They always were 'free'. But they weren't. Inside they knew something was missing. Something wasn't right. They felt a need. A need to fight injustice.
---10 years later---
"We'll take that one." David, Tristan, and little Molly stared up their father, who was pointing at a young man as if he was a piece of dirty cloth. "He looks strong." He raised his hand.
"SOLD! For thirty dollars!" Came the booming voice of the auctioneer.
The young man was pushed roughly toward them and thrown into the wagon the Thomas family had brought to the slave auction that year. A girl about 15 stood forward to take his place. (Bridin)
Something about the girl intrigued 16 year old David Thomas.
"I think we should have her." He whispered to his brother and sister.
Molly, 14, raised her eyebrows. "Her!?"
"Yes."
His brother, 18 year old Tristan had a dubious expression. "She wouldn't last a day. She's too weak."
David surveyed her again. The girl stood strait and almost had a proud look on her face. "No. I think she is strong. I know she is strong." He told his father, who spluttered. "She is too small and weak!"
"No!" David protested. "Please Father, she is strong! I know it!"
Tristan and Molly gaped. What had gotten into their brother?
His father hesitated. "No. I'm not spending money on nothing."
David glared, his brown eyes fierce. "Then I'll buy her." He did have enough money from a Christmas present from forever ago. He raised his hand, which was replied with a, "SOLD! For eight dollars!" At how close he was standing to his father, it could have easily been mistaken as his father who had raised his hand. His father blustered. David ignored him.
She's worth more then that, David Thomas thought. He spun to his brother and sister. "Promise me! Promise me that you will never tell her that it was me who bought her. Never!"
Molly and Tristan nodded at the intensity of their brother's deep mellow voice. "Promise." They said in unison, their brown and green eyes wide.
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Due to the ropes on her feet, Bridin couldn't do much more than drag the soles of her once-covered feet that were now covered in dust and small scrapes. She refused to look down, seem humble. That wasn't her. They came to a stop in front of the man who had bought her.
((well..not technically, since David made it seem like the father bought her. So they stopped in front of the father. :P))
David's father grunted. "Toss her in the wagon.""Gently!' David added harshly in his father's ear. Mr. Thomas did not repeat the words, but instead glared at his son. "We are going home now." He said sternly. "Get in the carriage."
Molly was shocked at her older brother's actions.
Tristan shrugged and hopped in, helping his sister, Molly, into the carriage.
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((sorry, this should be my last copied post. It just works...perfectly...))
The man shrugged, smirked, and then dropped Bridin in the wagon so her knees hit the wood with a crashing sound. He huffed when she didn't make a sound and turned on his heel, disappointed.
Bridin prayed a silent prayer and shifted so she was leaning against the side: not an easy feat when you were tied up.
((this should be mine too. =) ))David folded his arms. "I'll walk."
Molly looked disapproving. "Gentry do not walk."
"I do. Are you coming?" You used to.
Molly sighed and stepped out of the carriage, stumbling a little. Tristan followed. "Well then, we'll all walk together."
Mr. Thomas growled, but signaled the carriage on. "See you at dinner. Promptly. You will not be late." He ordered.
Molly nodded for them. "Yes sir." She said meekly.
The carriage bumbled away on the dusty road.
The auction was over.
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Molly didn't look at the slaves. If she did, she knew she would glare and scream at her brother for purchasing that...that creature.Tristan walked silently.
David kept blinking intently, staring at the ground as he walked. One hand was on the wagon and tracing the grain of the wood absently.
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David was still caught up in his thoughts.
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David glanced at all the slaves, particulary Bridin. He saw her untying herself. His eyes went wide and he shook his head, giving her a look that said, bad bad bad idea.
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David kept shaking his head. Molly saw him. "David. What are you shaking your head at?" David stopped and shrugged. "Trying to make my ears pop."
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David tossed a surreptious nod in Bridin's direction in approval.
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She told herself it was good enough to just have her hands free, right? Bridin hoped so.
Molly turned onto the cobblestone walkway to the Thomas house. David didn't notice except when Tristan tapped him silently on the shoulder. "Oh yes. Coming." He started toward the house then stopped and turned to the driver of the huge cart with the slaves. "Where are the slaves going?" He asked questioningly. He had never pried or asked questions about the slaves before.
Molly and Tristan raised their eyebrows.
((You want to be the driver?))
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"Well, son, where all yer family's slaves go," the rotund man said, spitting tobacco over the side.
((xP))
((Haha.))"Well, er, where do they go?" David asked, feeling sheepish for not knowing this. Was there a slave house or something?
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"Just wondering if you did." David replied lamely, bristling slightly. "Wouldn't want you to drop them off at the bakers." Molly drew in a sharp breath.
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(*Sun. It's my Grammar Nazi half speaking.)"Right." David turned and walked with his siblings into the house, intending to check on this slave house as soon as he could get away.
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The man continued on to the slave house out back and unloaded the two new slaves roughly, pulling them into the house and locking them up.
David glanced back as he went into the house with his siblings. He made eye contact with Bridin.
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((dang. gotta go. bbl.))David turned and walked inside to his dinner.
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She rubbed absently at the new rope around her right wrist, the skin red beneath the tough fibres.
David ate his dinner in silence. His father seemed ready to explode. His mother was biting her lip. Molly was tapping her fingers against the table. Tristan was methodically ate his dinner like David.
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David broke the silence. "Can I be excused?""May you be excused?" His mother corrected automatically.
"May I be excused?"
"Yes." His father said tersly.
David got up and darted from the room outside. He began walking in the direction of the slave house.
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David reached the door. He knocked. But then he noticed it was bolted and blocked from the outside. "Whoops." He began unbolting it.
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Hearing the clatter, Bridin looked up at the door steeling herself for possible trouble.
David hoped he didn't wake anyone up. He slowly opened the door.
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She hid her surprise behind a bored look, resting her hands on her knees. "Hello."
((*sighs* Isn't it amazing?))David, who was looking in the other direction, spun and stumbled. Righting himself, he said. "Oh. Hi."
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Bridin didn't bother to hide her smirk. "Have a nice trip?"
((Yeah...))David recovered his cockiness. "Loveliest trip I've had this week. Loveliest sights too." He held her gaze. His eyes held a mixture of admiration and stubborness.
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David's brown ones twinkled slightly, accepting the challenge. He sat down crossed-legged on the hard ground. His posture one of cool calmness and defiance. "So, I hope you're comfortable here. Are you?" He asked pleasantly.
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