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Post by Sharly on Sept 13, 2006 22:16:23 GMT -5
(And so... The strangeness that is Sharly's life begins -- or rather, continues?... I've no plans and this story is so very open... *Grins.* So join on in, add your own touches and flourishes and have a hand at shaping this story. What happens next to Sharly? What does she find beyond the door? Feel free to help me out! *Cackles.*)
Star dust. Moon dust. Quiet and night. All was as it should be. Or actually, all was as Sharly thought it should be. Except for one glaring problem, the very same that she had been struggling with all this while, and that was that the door was the wrong color. She'd ogled it for near to ten minutes -- not that anyone was counting, of course.
Wooden panels - brown. Walls - brown. Floor, brown. Tables and most of the decor - brown. She was getting a dose of brown overload. And to top it all off, the door was brown as well!
She huffs, puffs, but to no avail. It seemed this particular door refused to budge. And so with a small pout, not bothering to mutter that the door should have been a screaming shade of pink or some such other bright and glaring color, she twists around in the couch she was in, arms crossed over her small chest. She was very obviously much put out.
Not that she'd remember that the color of the door had offended her in the next five minutes. Actually, it took much less time than that for her attention to be diverted and as soon as it was, she wouldn't even remember all this.
Distraction came in the form of the brisk knocking on the door. You'd think a person walking up to a tavern would know that they could open the door themselves. Not that all people paid attention to that particular rule. She herself didn't remember that rule most of the time. Then again, most of the time she didn't remember to knock at all, so it wasn't any big deal.
Like a child being offered a treat, she leaps excitedly off of her comfy couch (which she'd claimed by the fire through some kind of persuasion she'd totally forgotten about), and wove her way through the few patrons who were already starting in on their drinking and fun, though it was early in the evening yet. Most folk didn't usually come in until darkness had actually fallen.
Scampering, she was, and came to a halt on bare feet at the still-closed door, before a small hand lifts to brush impatiently at the strands of gold that continually persisted in falling in front of and blocking her view. Slowly, anticipation for what might lie on the other side of the door casting her into a deluge of excited nerves for what or whom might be on the other side of the door, she cracks it open, then looks, narrow-eyed, out into the growing gloom...
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Post by † The Jaxness † on Sept 15, 2006 21:16:25 GMT -5
Crawling along the dirt pathway, she saw she was nearly there... nearly to the door. Cursing at herself, she ignored the contractions and trudged on. Wincing in pain, she gritted her teeth to keep herself from screaming. 10 feet....... 8 feet..... 5 feet...... 2 feet..... up the steps.
Grasping onto the door frame, she lifted herself up to lean against it, her left arm cradling her stomach. Her dark brown hair was damp and clinging to her face from sweat, tears of pain streaked her cheeks and smudges of dirt could be seen on every inch of her. The setting sun should have made the air slightly cooler, but her entire body felt as if it were in a furnace.
The lower part of her dirty, tattered gown was soaked. It had been nearly an hour since her water broke and she had crawled to the nearest place she could find. Her bulging stomach was quite a burden to carry, especially while in labor. She was shocked at her ability to carry herself so far, but her feelings of nausea were starting to take over, she had to get help, or her unborn child may not survive.
Knocking weakly but loudly on the door, she breathed heavily, trying her best to stay on her feet. She thought she heard voices and chatter within the building, but the pounding in her head kept her from being sure.
As the door opened, it was as if her prayers were answered, she would finally get help. Looking up with hazy eyes, she muttered between pants of breath.
"Please.... you must help.... me."
And with that, Naomi, 9 months pregnant and in labor, fainted at the doorstep.
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Post by Sharly on Sept 17, 2006 20:54:27 GMT -5
To say that Sharly was surprised to find Naomi at the door -- and her eyes took in the very pregnant woman's situation in one quick sweep that had those orbs the color of the blue sky widening -- would have been putting it mildly. She quickly straightens and opens the door wide. Sharly wasn't quite equipped to handle this kind if situation, but then you couldn't always choose what life decides to throw at you.
And so Sharly, with mouth hanging open, stares at the woman, hears her request, then with a small shocked squeal, dashes forward to catch the woman as she fell, making sure she wouldn't be hurt (any more than she had to be), but that meant the girl would fall as well.
Falls Sharly does, and lands beneath the pregnant woman before gasping out, having cushioned the landing as much as possible, to the other patrons and the tender, trying to catch the attention of one of the others inside. After all, Sharly knew nothing about how to handle pregnant ladies. She was just a young and carefree girl. She could be called 'flighty', even.
"Heeeeelp, someone?! This woman needs help!"
She didn't even feel that elbow, rubbed raw and the ache of her possibly bruised backside.
Surely someone else who was inside had seen the woman as well! Tumbled locks of gold tangled around her and caused more than a little clumsiness than was her usual as she attempted to get out from beneath Naomi's unconscious weight. All the while, she mumbled as if to herself.
"Help. Help. Need help."
And once she'd gotten out from under Naomi, she would attempt to turn the woman over onto her back, if she hadn't fallen onto her back, and then would begin tugging the woman inside.
The child-like mind of the girl who looked to be around maybe fourteen or fifteen years old could not comprehend just what the wetness of the woman's skirt might mean, but the state of the woman herself had a fission of unease crawling up and down her back. She needed to get the woman -inside-, was all she knew.
The delicate-boned face was tense and worried. She didn't know what to do. For all the chaos of her thoughts, her mind seemed to be at its clearest at this moment. Maybe it was the situation that caused it, but she was more lucid than she'd been yet -- or rather, seemed to act closer to her actual age, whatever that happened to be.
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Post by darkflameangel on May 10, 2007 23:24:30 GMT -5
Cammy watched this unfold, and seeing no one else rushing to help the poor girl, she got up herself and helped Sharly get the girl inside, immediately she noticed the wetness. " Her water broke...quick, get some towels and hot water." she spoke directly to Sharly, then pulled a root from her pocket and placed it under Naomi's nose, to rouse her. "Get up hunny, I'm here to help sweetheart." good thing I've fed already. she thought.
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Post by thisone on May 22, 2007 16:02:50 GMT -5
The rain was cold outside, but that didn't really matter to the man as he turned a corner in some god forsaken street. His feet were bare, and the muddy, dirty water flowed around his toes with every growing puddle. His cloak, which was now nothing more than tatters, was soaked to it's core and offered little protection from the elements, and the hood of which barely clung to his head in the strong winds. Beneath this flimsy little cloth that was once a sign of great rank, a simple cloth shirt and pants, the pantlegs only reaching his knees and his shirt having no sleeves whatsoever, were the only things that covered his body.
With every step, the staff in the man's right hand clicked against the hard road as he continued on. The bag hanging from his left shoulder bounced slightly as it bumped against his hip. His eyes peered out from beneath his hood and he chanced upon an open door, a soft light flowing out from within. As he drew closer, he could hear the cries of what sounded like a small girl, and the labored breathing of someone alittle older. Coming do the door, the six-foot-seven-inch man looked down upon the scene, and he simple shook his head. "I pray that I get a drink after this." he muttered to himself before kneeling down beside the woman in labor and glanced up at the third woman, and more specificaly the root she had used to rouse her. "Be at peace" he then said, his voice low and soothing, to the woman about to give birth, "You are safe now." Granted, he probably didn't need to say that, but he felt it needed to be said.
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Post by darkflameangel on May 23, 2007 21:44:39 GMT -5
Cammy looked at the man in the robe and removed the root, replacing it in her pocket, "hmmm. just tell me what you want me to do." she didn't like being stared at by this man, but hey whats a few stares when a woman is in labor .
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Post by † The Jaxness † on May 28, 2007 6:52:09 GMT -5
A strong aroma placed near her nose awakened her instantly, and she was brought from the comfort of unconsciousness back to the white hot pain in her stomach. She was laying on her back, but she tried to curl up her legs, hoping that any change of position would make the pain fade, if only just a little. Tears rolled down her dirt stained cheeks, but went unnoticed as her entire body was covered in sweat from head to toe.
She closed her eyes and let out a blood curling scream as another contraction came and went. They shouldn't hurt this much... Racked with sobs, her hand wents instinctively to her stomach, trying to calm the little thing inside her. She was hearing voices around her, and several new faces. They remained hazy and mumbled due to her teary eyes and her own loud screams. She didnt try to listen, only try to get them to understand that something was wrong. The pain was too great. Between the panting and gasps for breathe, she attempted to speak.
"SOME-THING IS W-WRONG...... AHH, IT HUUUURTS!!"
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Post by thisone on May 29, 2007 17:35:57 GMT -5
The robed man looked down in pitty at the child, in her pain. In truth, childbirth wasn't supposed to be that painfull. Placing his staff down behind him, he knelt down on her right side and placed one hand on her stomach and the other on her head. Muttering in his ancient tongue, he began to work his magic. It was not the normal kind of hocus pocus you'd imagine, his hand didn't start to light up, nor did the poor girl. However, her pain did begin to leave her. He couldn't take it all, but he could make it a bit more bareble for her. As he drew out the negative energies, he felt something about the child within her. Something wasn't right about it, something very not right.
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Post by darkflameangel on Jun 8, 2007 0:20:35 GMT -5
Cammy sighed watched the old man do his magic. he doesn't need me...
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Post by Sharly on Jun 14, 2007 3:02:48 GMT -5
(Please excuse me for the length. Am catching up. Sorry!)
Relief washed through her as Cammy stepped up to help with the woman. Sharly was looking rather lost, you see. Right now, she was trembling, a fine trembling, to be sure, but it still shook her, and it was through this awful fear and uncertainty that she clutched at the request for towels and hot water.
"Water. Hot. Towel. Hot. Water. Hot. Towel. Hot."
It became her litany as she popped up to her feet, regardless of what owwies she might have, raw elbow and bruised knee, bruised hip and all that, Sharly dashed toward the only place she knew for certain she could get them from. The storage room. Yes, there was a closet in the place where they just happened to store towels! Good towels! Nice, clean towels! She'd stumble back, bearing an armful of these nice and fluffy towels, of course. Then wonder how she'd make them hot. Poor Sharly.
Of course, in mid-wondering, she'd remember she needed water as well! Hot! Water! Hot! Towel! Hot! Water! ... Water!
Bare feet pattering along the floorboards towards the laboring woman who now had Cammy nearby, and the shape of a man whose face was covered.. Her footsteps slowed, as though she was now unwilling to move forward.
She could feel things coming from the man. And what she sensed terrified her to the very marrow. But the cries and contortions of the birthing woman made her dart forward, drop the armful of towels, then go flying off toward the kitchen, to disappear behind its swinging door; a streak of long, gold-blond locks, a pale face, and flying skirts, floating atop the blur of bare feet.
In the kitchen, Sharly would demand hot water for the crying woman. Of course, who could resist the vehemency from this one? She looked so... Afraid. And after one of the kitchen hands had peeked out the door into the common room to check up on her story, they quickly returned and carried a pot of boiling water to the two women and the man. Sharly stayed peeking out from behind a door.
She'd have stayed back there too, but the kitchen hand coming back and walking through the door, whispered something in her ear that was so frightful, it only increased her fears, and sent her right back toward the woman.
By this time, with the man's spell having been cast and the woman's birthing pains eased, somewhat, Sharly watched him work.
"In pain..." came the wispy, sing-song voice. A small hand grasped a towel and began blotting the damp of tears and sweat from the woman's face, her closest arm and hand.
But she darted cautious glances at the man, and made sure to be careful and behave. Sharly had learned that men, men who had an aura like his, tended to want little girls to be on their best behaviors, otherwise there would be a lot of pain.
Quietly, she blotted the woman's sweat, murmured child-like non-sense to the woman, gently stroked a hand, which she gently held in one of hers.
Solemnly, so solemnly, Sharly lifted her gaze, pleading, to the other female. "Please help." With that request, she indicated that she thought it would help Naomi if Cammy held onto Naomi's other hand. Sharly was peculiar.
She didn't trust the man, but he seemed to have helped Naomi, somewhat. That was a good thing. But something was wrong. The wrongness came from the woman who was in pain.
Tears of sympathy filled Sharly's eyes, though she wouldn't understand something so complex as pity, and such would not occur to her. A small hand still holding Naomi's hand, the other reached out to very gently pat the mound of Naomi's belly.
"Baaaby.. Be okay..." The litany had changed again.. And so were Sharly's eyes changing... Sky blues, darkened by the pain of sympathy, blurred, took on an edging of pale green on the inside curves of the iris. A stuttering pulse of power fluttered from her in delicate waves. Her eyes became unfocused.
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Post by lifehatesme on Oct 18, 2007 20:18:42 GMT -5
The scene unfolded inside the tavern almost as if what was happening were forbidden. It was to the girl standing outside the door watching it all. Adelayde gave a furtive glance towards the man. She could tell the girls inside didn't trust him, and she didn't either. The wind blew quietly around her, wisping her long black hair up around her ivory face.
The scent of blood was strong, coming from the temporary birthing house, making Adelayde itch for it. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, weighing her options. She really wanted to go into the forbidden place, the tavern. But she needed to feed even more.
Adelayde made the decision and slid off into the night, she would come by later for the child.
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Post by † The Jaxness † on Oct 26, 2007 22:37:03 GMT -5
In the midst of yet another painful contraction, some of the pain and pressure in her stomach began to fade. Not all of it, but just enough to where it didnt feel like she was being ripped open. She managed to open her eyes and give a pleading look to everyone standing around her, wordlessly begging for any kind of help. Someone out of view began to wipe her forehead with a towel, helping to keep the sweat from dripping into her eyes and clouding her vision. She thought of any ways to rid herself of any discomforts. The heat of the room was getting to be too much to bare. She weakly moved her legs back and forth, trying, yet failing, to kick up the hems of her gown.
It had once been so pretty. She remembered the months she had saved up for it after seeing it in a window. Smooth as silk, white as snow. She had planned to wear it on her wedding night, hoping such an expensive garment would be a surprise to her husband. But whatever joy that day had promised to bring vanished as she looked down upon how the gown had ended up. Torn, wet, and stained from dirt and blood.
As if it were in mother nature's cruel ways to make sure she didnt experience too much comfort at once, she felt a great pressure between her legs while all her muscles tightened up. She instinctively sat up on her elbows as her breathing came faster. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to prepare herself for what was to come, and screamed through gritted teeth.
"I t-think... its comingg....."
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