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Ariana Lenoir · Last edited by Ariana Lenoir on Wed Nov 19, 2008 2:52 pm; edited 1 time in total

[[Please note this story is entirely in-character, as anyone who has had the "pleasure" of meeting Phaidra knows. OOC I love my Moonglow friends!!]]

"Around the -whole- island. Twice. Fine! , " Phaidra shouted as took off towards the city gate to cut across the mainland of Moonglow to the coast. She was already breathing heavy from her four laps around the city. Jogging, she paced herself to try and conserve energy as she complained aloud her amber eyes aflame with anger.

"Bastards. Who the hell do they think they are? If I call folks fracking old BECAUSE THEY ARE, " she shouted back over her shoulder. "... I have to run laps. If I don't wear the damn robe that makes me look like a fracking blueberry... I have to run laps. If I lose, damage, or shove this robe up someone's ass... I have to run laps. If I tell some old witch that their children are better off dead than with her... I get pain like someone shoved a spike in my arm AND I have to run laps. This place blows."

She hit the coast finally and began the winding path to follow its jagged edge. Outside the illusionist's guild stood a couple old men dressed and robes. They waved to her as if recognizing the colors she wore and shouted in greeting, "Hail, young one!"

Phaidra shouted back, "Ah hail this ya old farts! , " as she raised both her hands and extended her middle fingers to them as she ran by. Behind her she could here shocked gasps and she smiled briefly to herself at their reaction as she continued on.

She rounded the telescope, glancing at it with a mischievous look. "I'll frack with that later... teach them to make me run. " An' so began the extensive mental checklist she kept of places she would sabotage. She planned aloud as she got ideas for various locations, "I could paint that... Fire. Yes, that's definitely highly flammable... glue that... Oil would make that slippery... change those signs..." The list of ideas, which was quite lengthy and detailed, was safely filed away in her mind for use later.

She kept running, occasionally glancing behind her as she went. One time near the southern tip, she noticed she was being followed by a mob of angry, rabid-looking animals. "What the hell? Even the animals here hate me! Everybody does! ARGH! " she yelled as she kept running. She looked back a few times at them and then rubbed her eyes for at times she thought she could see right through them. "All this running is making me go blind. If I go blind, they are gonna pay for it!" she scowled rubbing her eyes as she picked up her pace to outdistance them.

So proceeded the first lap and then the second as the exertion began to take its toll on her. Into the second lap, she was slowing. Her chest burned and she felt like her lungs were going to implode. She had stopped cursing and the only thing her mouth did was work hard to bring more oxygen into her burning lungs. Her legs wobbled like jelly and she kept thinking the next step would be her last. She considered over a dozen times to quit as they were too stupid to really know if she ran it all, but each time she dismissed it. She would show them how tough she was. She wasn't a child, she wasn't cute and she wasn't going to let them win by breaking her.

She was soaked to the skin with sweat and her chainmail leggings weighing down her wobbly legs as she finally made it back. She didn't even notice the rabid hind behind her, but one of them dispatched it as she collapsed on the ground, wheezing. After that, it was pretty much a blur. She was gated to that Constable chick's home to sleep. She tried to just sleep under the tree on the porch, not wanting to move anymore. The Constable and her evil partner in crime, Gramps, made her go upstairs to the bedroom. She muttered, "Whatever", but she went. She was too tired to argue about anything as she yanked off the blueberry robe and slumped onto the bed. The woman was talking to her, but most of it she didn't really pay attention to as her lids grew heavy. She curled up with her kryss as if it were a stuffed animal, mumbling how she wanted her father's kryss. She drifted off to asleep as Phyrra carefully tucked the young girl in who was going to make their lives a living hell.

Ariana Lenoir · Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 2:21 am Post subject:

Phaidra took her boots off and sat on the edge of the dock, letting her sore feet soak in the cool ocean water as it lapped gently at the pier. She huddled closer to a stack of barrels as the ocean breeze bit at her tear-stained cheeks.

"None of them understand me... no grown-up does. All they say is how much worse they had it when -they- were kids. My father died, my mother died, I couldn't save them... hell, surprised one of them hasn't told me they were raised by rabid squirrels or some rubbish. They don't know what its been like... they don't know what has happened... they don't know anything. They just whip out their childhood penis stories and try and one up mine. Well frack them. They don't know me. They don't know anything about me."

As the wind burned at her eyes, she started to cry, "Stupid wind..." even though she was alone, she wouldn't admit even to herself that wasn't the real reason for the tears cascading down her cheeks.

"Go do this. Go do that. Run laps. Fetch this. Get that, " she rubbed her head slightly which had been aching horribly since her return from Magincia. "They all treat me like a child. Call me a brat, " she continues crying as she raises an arm, wiping her face against the sleeve. "I wasn't acting like snot-nosed brat when I was at Magincia, but do they seek to mention it? Nooooo. Was I acting like some little kid when I stood up to those bullies? Noooooo. Grown-ups suck. All they do is point out the wrong and never the stuff you did right. I didn't whine or run away from the fights in Magincia, I stood my ground with all the grown-ups and even though I was knocked unconscious more than once as soon as I came too, I got back up and tried to help. But nooooo.... some man who I don't even know starts coming up and barking orders acting like he's just god's greatest gift to existance." Her eyes swell again with tears as she yells out to the sea, startling a rat nearby, "My father was god's greatest gift, not you!"

She gripped the barrel tightly, wailing against it. She continued speaking but her words were broken from the sobbing that wracked her tiny body, "Do you want to be better than... you're father? No one was better than him, " another sob wrenching out of her. "What kind of a question is that? My father was perfect. He was the best there is..." She wiped harshly at her face with the sleeve of the robe, "Why should I even try to be as good as he was... he can't see me... he'll never know... " another sob, "None of this matters... none of it."

She cried out of anger and grief. silent of words for several long minutes as her tiny body lay still pressed against the barrel. She started pounding on the side of it, punching it with her bare first repeatedly. Each time she paused, she punched as if channeling the anger she felt into her tiny fists. "None of them understand.... They just stupid grown-ups... They all think they're better than me... That's why I never talk to any of them... all they do is tell me they understand... they don't understand... how could they possibly understand..." she punched the barrel a dozen more times, leaving her knuckles bruised and bloody.

She looked at her right hand, but didn't feel the pain, only her stabbing pain in her head. She stuck her hand in the salty ocean water, her face not even flinching as the salt burned the raw flesh. She sucked her breath a few times as her body slowly began to calm down. She pushed the cookies and water Vaen had left for her farther away as she had refused to have anything to do with them and pulled off her blue robe. She pulled her feet out of the water and grabbed her thigh boots nearby. She folded them and placed them on the far side of the barrel. She laid her head down on them, curling towards the barrel as if to use it as a shield from the chilly night breeze. She grabbed the blue robe, pulling it over her as a blanket. She fell into a troubled sleep, tossing and turning as nightmares haunted her mind as she slept under the stars not caring what discomfort the night brought.

Cal Hurst · Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 2:32 pm Post subject:

After giving the girl time to think, Vaen headed back to the docks to check on her. Upon his arrival, he frowned as he saw her curled up under her Moonglow blue robe, shivering slightly in the cold air in the night.

"This just won't do," he said to himself. He walked over towards her, and placed his hands under her, lifting her slowly and being careful not to wake her. Although she stirred a bit in her sleep, she didn't wake up. He could feel her shiver as he carried her, as the chilling wind in the freezing night battled against the little warmth she could muster under the thin robe.

He cradled her in his arms like he did his own daughter when she was younger, and walked her slowly to the south end of Moonglow, careful not to wake her up, and finally into the local inn.

"Room for one, please," Vaen whispered to the innkeeper.

Glancing up from her desk, she smiled slightly at the child in Vaen's arms, nodded, and whispered in return, "Right away, sir." She stood up and grabbed a key from under the desk, and led the way into a room down the hall. "Here you are, sir."

"Thank you, miss," Vaen replied. He placed her on the bed in the room, and placed the robe she used as a blanket on a nearby chair. He then placed the covers over her, and slowly walked out of the room.

He walked over towards the innkeeper and placed a small pouch of gold coins on the desk, and smiled. "Thank you again, miss. And see to it she gets a warm breakfast."
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Ariana Lenoir · Posted: Wed Nov 19, 2008 2:51 pm Post subject:

Several weeks had passed and for the most part she had been able to avoid most of the members of the Blueberry Brigade of Moonglow.

She had ventured off the island a few nights prior to a tavern she had heard of called "The Den". That trip had earned her not only a hell of a hangover, but several bruises and lumps on her forehead from Phyrra. Being only fourteen, she had no experience with alcohol and the single bottle of ale had done fast work coupled with her empty stomach. Most of the night was doused in a hazy fog in her memory. Although she can't remember why she felt as she did, she does remember feeling humiliated and also a sense of deep sadness and loss. She had pushed those emotions down, replacing them with the anger and rage that she used regularly as almost a mask to avoid facing those emotions. She had done something... against someone... but she couldn't remember what it was. She had woken up the next morning, smelling of pumpkins and fresh hay, with several bruises and lumps on her head and a splitting headache helped on by the consumption of the alcohol.

She kept to the docks after that, camping out in a shallow ledge beneath their wooden planks. The convenience of having the sea below for the nausea that plagued her unforgiving stomach was welcome to say the least. She ate very little, but did manage to drink and keep down some water from her waterskin. She did little more than lay curled up in a ball with her armor shoved behind her to help protect it from the caustic salt spray of the sea. She felt miserable and alone. Before she could exchange those emotions for the deep anger that pitted her young soul, she started to cry quietly against the damp earth as she pulled that stupid, damned blueberry robe around her for warmth. Eventually, a restless sleep won over and she stayed there hidden from the eyes of those who passed by.

She dreamed of being back at her father's side and of memories they shared together. The rides in the meadow, the hours in the courtyard sparring and playing war with the small wooden figures carved by Qui xu as her father staged different scenarios for her to counter on the battlefield. The memories were sweet and filled her with warmth, but deep into the night they grew more cold and foreboding. Trickles of unease and loss began to intermingle with the loving memories of her father. She shivered in her sleep as if the cold penetrated her very body. Despite her shivering, a sheen of sweat glistened on her young skin as the fever rose and her breathing became uneven. She dreamed of fighting in bloody battles even as her body paralleled the internal fight against the sickness that racked her weakened body. She held off the tides of warriors, dropping them as sprays of arterial blood flecked her skin.

Ariana Lenoir · Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 2:04 am Post subject:

She had walked to the Den in hopes of getting something to eat having been under the docks for a couple days. She kept her blue robe tight around her against the cold that plagued her feverish body. Logic should have dictated she get something to eat closer to the docks, but in the confusion of her mind it had made perfect sense.

Some of the folks had commented about the blue robe and some pirate offered to generously give her a dress instead. She had never worn a dress as far as she knew and she never would as far as she was concerned. Besides in her eyes, it would just be another reason for them to punish her for not wearing the robe.

Of course as her ill-luck would have it and who should walk in, but no other than Vargus and then Phyrra. She was gated to Moonglow and given a heavy pumpkin of at least twenty pounds to carry and told to run around the island. She did, although it her body ached and her lungs burned. When she returned, she collapsed on the flower-rimmed grass across from the bank. She stayed on her hands and knees for several minutes, wheezing with a wide-eyed expression of fear before unconsciousness took her.

She roused, her breathing still raspy and labored, as a cold rain soaked her thin robe, chilling her even further. She slowly dragged herself across the grass, leaving a wide, muddy trail where the weight of her body had flattened the grass into the wet ground. The trail at first at no particular direction as were made by a drunk before slowly trailing north towards the docks. The trail almost disappearing across the wet cobblestones, before reappearing in the occasional flowerbed or patch of grass. She made it to the edge of the docks, pulling herself again under the familiar overhang of the thick, weathered boards. The wide boards offered her some protection against the rain as she lapped once more into unconsciousness.