A few moments passed before Lenora heard a voice from within tell her to come in. She did as she was asked. After all, she had to play the part of maid if she wanted to keep the position long enough to attain her ultimate goal. She turned the knob a bit apprehensively. The kitchen maid's perturbed behavior just a little while before made Lenora assume that her new mistress was a bit of a fusser.
The room was even more extravagant than the parlor. There were baubles made of precious metals littered all about the room, glinting in the light of the fire. The fireplace itself was a colossal and elaborate piece of marble stonework, it made her wonder how on earth they managed to place it in this bedroom. Her mouth hung open in awe of all the things she could stick in her pocket. Inside she beamed thinking of how she could sell them and get new things to decorate her big, flamboyant mansion.
Lenora did as her new mistress asked and moved a few steps closer into the light. She immediately noticed that the woman was definitely a bit pretentious, which required a bit of patience. The glint of gold and silver in the corner of her eye called to her like sirens, singing a song that said it would be worth it to deal with a high and mighty lady of the house.
"Lenora Dalton, at your disposal, miss," she replied in her sweetest and most innocent tone. The mistress was indeed beautiful, although it was difficult to see all of her features in the dim light of the fire. She took a breath, bracing herself for the list of things the lady would no doubt find wrong with her.
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Imogen thought the best idea was to just stay on the floor, she didn't feel like falling down again. Lefty kept screaming and yelling at her about her clothes, she needed to look more like a hooker, he didn't give a shit that it was cold out, deal with it. That was his favorite line, deal with it. It was his way of saying, 'I protect you, I make sure men respect you, I got you off the streets.' Imogen knew better than that, of course. Lefty got half of whatever she made, and if she didn't work he made no money. As far as protection went, there had been times where she yelled for his help, but the almighty dollar was more important than her wellbeing.
She just sat there on the ground listening to him berating her. It was a common occurrence, it was very easy to tune him out. He didn't know jack about her, he was just another john to her. Her attention focused on the sound of a police car making its way to them. She was secretly relieved, if Lefty got arrested that would give her at least a day or two to heal the bruises and just sleep. She continued to sit on the floor, a hand pressed to her swollen cheek. He got her good this time and it her angry, but acting on it would just get her into more trouble.
The cop car slammed into park, a small police officer coming out of the car looking really pissed off. She was a short woman, with fierce dark brown eyes. Imogen kept sitting on the ground, her head spinning from the smacks and listened to their exchange. She had to give it to the girl, she definitely wasn't stupid. Every time Lefty came up with some bullshit, she shut it down with an equally smart remark. Imogen the resisted the urge to stand beside her and say "Yea, that's right girl! You tell him!" Instead she concentrated on trying not to smile at all, her face was still throbbing.
A few moments later, another squad car came over, a male officer stepping out, obviously to help the policewoman. Lefty kept shouting at them, making the situation worse for himself. Imogen couldn't help but feel glad that he was an idiot. As the white cop arrested him, the woman came over to her. "I'm fine, thank you," Imogen responded, finally getting up. Her tone was a bit rude, but it was defensive. She knew how this worked. The cop would ask her questions, find out she was a working girl and take her in. "It was just a misunderstanding, he has a temper," she kept going, walking slowly away from the police officer's knowing gaze. "He's my boyfriend and I pissed him off, that's all." She wasn't defending Lefty, if the cop asked her if she wanted to press charges, she'd go the precinct with bells on, but not at the cost of spending a night in Central Bookings herself. She smiled at the woman, heading back towards her apartment. She was done for today, with only twenty six dollars in her pocket. The irony of which was definitely not lost on her.
She just sat there on the ground listening to him berating her. It was a common occurrence, it was very easy to tune him out. He didn't know jack about her, he was just another john to her. Her attention focused on the sound of a police car making its way to them. She was secretly relieved, if Lefty got arrested that would give her at least a day or two to heal the bruises and just sleep. She continued to sit on the floor, a hand pressed to her swollen cheek. He got her good this time and it her angry, but acting on it would just get her into more trouble.
The cop car slammed into park, a small police officer coming out of the car looking really pissed off. She was a short woman, with fierce dark brown eyes. Imogen kept sitting on the ground, her head spinning from the smacks and listened to their exchange. She had to give it to the girl, she definitely wasn't stupid. Every time Lefty came up with some bullshit, she shut it down with an equally smart remark. Imogen the resisted the urge to stand beside her and say "Yea, that's right girl! You tell him!" Instead she concentrated on trying not to smile at all, her face was still throbbing.
A few moments later, another squad car came over, a male officer stepping out, obviously to help the policewoman. Lefty kept shouting at them, making the situation worse for himself. Imogen couldn't help but feel glad that he was an idiot. As the white cop arrested him, the woman came over to her. "I'm fine, thank you," Imogen responded, finally getting up. Her tone was a bit rude, but it was defensive. She knew how this worked. The cop would ask her questions, find out she was a working girl and take her in. "It was just a misunderstanding, he has a temper," she kept going, walking slowly away from the police officer's knowing gaze. "He's my boyfriend and I pissed him off, that's all." She wasn't defending Lefty, if the cop asked her if she wanted to press charges, she'd go the precinct with bells on, but not at the cost of spending a night in Central Bookings herself. She smiled at the woman, heading back towards her apartment. She was done for today, with only twenty six dollars in her pocket. The irony of which was definitely not lost on her.
Evelyn is such a brat! I adore her already hahaha.
Grace is awesome, I love her already!
Name: Lenora Dalton
Age: 21
Likes:
Dislikes:
History/Bio:
You don't have to do this! I do this because I'm neurotic, hahaha.
Lenora fidgeted nervously in the parlor of her new employer. Everything had gone according to plan, her forged letters of recommendation were reviewed but under very little scrutiny and no one had recognized her face. She rose from the chaise they asked her to wait on and looked about the room. The room itself was fairly large and ostentatiously decorated. There were two gilded mirrors between floor to ceiling bookcases, littered with books from mystery to botany. A few bric-a-brac was spread throughout, some were made of bronze, others brass or wood, but none were made of silver or gold, much to Lenora's disappointment. She frowned, wondering where everything of value was. Patience, Lenora, in due time. You have acquired the job, the rest will fall into place nicely, she thought to herself.
She heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, so she flitted back to her place on the chaise, smoothing her dress as she sat back down. "It's time to begin your duties, girl," a flustered maid told her. "Here," she continued handing her a golden candle holder, a red tapered candle already lit, "take this to the mistress. Your first task is to help Mistress prepare for bed. Don't talk back, be gentle, and for goodness sake, be quick!" she pushed her towards the stairs. "It is the first door on the left, make sure you curtsey and address her as 'Mistress'. Keep your eyes down and your opinions to yourself, you hear?" Lenora's yellow flecked blue eyes widened a bit. Perfect, she thought at the idea of all these rules she must follow to do her duty. It was only for a time, however, and didn't worry too much.
"Yes madame," she addressed the kitchen maid.
"Oh, psh, you needn't waste those titles on me," she said in her lowly accent. "Use those up with the Mistress." And with that she turned tail and whisked back to the kitchen. She walked up the stairs slowly, the oak planks creaking with her weight, and knocked on the first door on the left.
She heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, so she flitted back to her place on the chaise, smoothing her dress as she sat back down. "It's time to begin your duties, girl," a flustered maid told her. "Here," she continued handing her a golden candle holder, a red tapered candle already lit, "take this to the mistress. Your first task is to help Mistress prepare for bed. Don't talk back, be gentle, and for goodness sake, be quick!" she pushed her towards the stairs. "It is the first door on the left, make sure you curtsey and address her as 'Mistress'. Keep your eyes down and your opinions to yourself, you hear?" Lenora's yellow flecked blue eyes widened a bit. Perfect, she thought at the idea of all these rules she must follow to do her duty. It was only for a time, however, and didn't worry too much.
"Yes madame," she addressed the kitchen maid.
"Oh, psh, you needn't waste those titles on me," she said in her lowly accent. "Use those up with the Mistress." And with that she turned tail and whisked back to the kitchen. She walked up the stairs slowly, the oak planks creaking with her weight, and knocked on the first door on the left.
A wave of relief passed over Cecilia when the princess accepted the dance. Whether Elena had noticed Lady Jacquelyn was an impostor or not, she gave no outward indication of it. Two women dancing together was not widely conventional, but it wasn't something that people would look at as very strange. Cecilia smirked as Elena led her to the center of the dance floor. A few dances, a few glasses of champagne, and an excuse for fresh air would render the plan was as good as successful. In the meantime, she would enjoy the party and keep her eyes peeled for other targets. There were riches to be had here and Cecilia's greed was at its peak.
"Yes, thank you, Mera is quite lovely," she replied. And it was. Mera was her home, and there was nothing in the world quite like it. The beaches had sand so white it was almost blinding to look at and the water that crashed upon its shores was so clear you could see right to the bottom for almost a mile before it turned into a brilliant blue the color of fresh cut sapphires. The band was playing a happy tune and Cecilia couldn't help but get lost in the dance. It was the most fun she had had in years. She twirled the princess and then twirled herself, the close proximity of the princess making her the slightest bit uncomfortable although she didn't know why. Perhaps it was because Elena was royalty, something almost unreachable, like a star in the heavens. The dance ended and the guests clapped for a wonderful dance. Cecilia was enjoying herself so much she forgot why she was there. Her smile went from ear to ear and her gray eyes twinkled with excitement.
The dance had left her actually quite parched and she eyed the floor for passing servants carrying wine and champagne. She grabbed two glasses of champagne, handing one to the princess. "You dance beautifully, Princess, but I find myself a bit out of breath. Would you like to accompany me onto the balcony?" This was it, the plan was in motion. Her stomach churned with anticipation.
"Yes, thank you, Mera is quite lovely," she replied. And it was. Mera was her home, and there was nothing in the world quite like it. The beaches had sand so white it was almost blinding to look at and the water that crashed upon its shores was so clear you could see right to the bottom for almost a mile before it turned into a brilliant blue the color of fresh cut sapphires. The band was playing a happy tune and Cecilia couldn't help but get lost in the dance. It was the most fun she had had in years. She twirled the princess and then twirled herself, the close proximity of the princess making her the slightest bit uncomfortable although she didn't know why. Perhaps it was because Elena was royalty, something almost unreachable, like a star in the heavens. The dance ended and the guests clapped for a wonderful dance. Cecilia was enjoying herself so much she forgot why she was there. Her smile went from ear to ear and her gray eyes twinkled with excitement.
The dance had left her actually quite parched and she eyed the floor for passing servants carrying wine and champagne. She grabbed two glasses of champagne, handing one to the princess. "You dance beautifully, Princess, but I find myself a bit out of breath. Would you like to accompany me onto the balcony?" This was it, the plan was in motion. Her stomach churned with anticipation.
Imogen had been in Hunts Point since the tender age of fourteen. She had run away from her foster home, where she had landed at the age of nine due to her mother's drug addiction. She didn't remember her father, but he was alive and well, living in the suburbs of some unknown town upstate. She was headed there when she ran away, but at fourteen with $26 in her pocket, she didn't get too far. It was then that she met Lady, a working girl from LA, that introduced her to the game. Her first time was awful, it was in the back of a white Buick sedan with a man named Lefty. He choked her and beat her, and she cried the entire time. It was the type of experience you could never forget. That night, when she went back to the hooker's apartment, Lady found her crying in the bathroom, washing the blood off the inside of her thigh. She helped Imogen and offered her version of comforting and motherly words. "It gets better in time, honey," she explained. "After a while they stop havin' a face. They just become a stack of bills." She washed her hair and gave her pajamas that were two sizes too big and put her to sleep. Even now, she didn't know whether to thank Lady, or resent her.
As she stood at her usual spot under the bridge in Hunts Point, she watched the other girls in their leopard spandex with slits on the side, heels six or seven inches high and the tiniest shirts she had ever seen. She laughed softly, disdain dripping with each note of her voice. She was dressed in a leather jacket, jeans, and her favorite pair of Jordan sneakers. The retro '86, that she had purchased with the money from her last trick the night before. Her kinky hair was loose and framed her angular face and her eyes, the color of jade in moonlight looked like they knew every secret in the world. She leaned against a 'No Parking' sign for just a second, when her pimp, Lefty walked over.
"Girl, whatchu doin' all covered up like that?" Imogen resisted the urge to roll her eyes, that would just earn her a smack in the face. Johns didn't pick up girls with marks on their face, so she'd end up paying for her sass twice. "Left, it's cold. I still get Johns," she said with eyes cast down. He walked over to her in one fluid stride and pushed her, hard. "Look at all these other bitches!" He grabbed her arm forcefully, definitely leaving bruises on her caramel skin. "They wearin' nothin' and you here covered up like a polar bear! Take that shit off!" He ripped the sleeve of her floral Bellfield jacket. She decided it wasn't worth the trouble and took it off. Underneath wasn’t much better. She had a plain gray long sleeved henley tee. "The hell is that?" Thwack! He back handed her across her left cheek, and it immediately began to swell. She swayed a bit from the impact but regained her footing. "I'm talkin' to you!" She didn't respond, if he hit her again, she could go home. "Who the hell you think you are, defyin' me like this?" Thwack! Same cheek. This time he hit her real hard and knocked her to the floor. She didn't bother getting up, a single tear making its way down her cheek and onto the dirty concrete beneath her. It was then she realized that what she felt for Lady, was actually resentment.
As she stood at her usual spot under the bridge in Hunts Point, she watched the other girls in their leopard spandex with slits on the side, heels six or seven inches high and the tiniest shirts she had ever seen. She laughed softly, disdain dripping with each note of her voice. She was dressed in a leather jacket, jeans, and her favorite pair of Jordan sneakers. The retro '86, that she had purchased with the money from her last trick the night before. Her kinky hair was loose and framed her angular face and her eyes, the color of jade in moonlight looked like they knew every secret in the world. She leaned against a 'No Parking' sign for just a second, when her pimp, Lefty walked over.
"Girl, whatchu doin' all covered up like that?" Imogen resisted the urge to roll her eyes, that would just earn her a smack in the face. Johns didn't pick up girls with marks on their face, so she'd end up paying for her sass twice. "Left, it's cold. I still get Johns," she said with eyes cast down. He walked over to her in one fluid stride and pushed her, hard. "Look at all these other bitches!" He grabbed her arm forcefully, definitely leaving bruises on her caramel skin. "They wearin' nothin' and you here covered up like a polar bear! Take that shit off!" He ripped the sleeve of her floral Bellfield jacket. She decided it wasn't worth the trouble and took it off. Underneath wasn’t much better. She had a plain gray long sleeved henley tee. "The hell is that?" Thwack! He back handed her across her left cheek, and it immediately began to swell. She swayed a bit from the impact but regained her footing. "I'm talkin' to you!" She didn't respond, if he hit her again, she could go home. "Who the hell you think you are, defyin' me like this?" Thwack! Same cheek. This time he hit her real hard and knocked her to the floor. She didn't bother getting up, a single tear making its way down her cheek and onto the dirty concrete beneath her. It was then she realized that what she felt for Lady, was actually resentment.
Character Stuff
Name: Imogen Airelle
Age: 24
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, but prefers romantic relationships with women as compared to men because of her experience as a prostitute.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Personality: Imogen is very strong willed, but passive. She is intelligent despite her profession. Her demeanor is gentle, always soft spoken and prefers to avoid confrontation if she can help it. However, if she's angered, she will fight back, violently if necessary.
History: Imogen is of Barbadian descent, her mother, Chloe, is a drug addict currently in a halfway house somewhere in the Bronx. Imogen resents her greatly and has very little contact with her. Her father had abandoned them early on, unable to cope with Chloe's drug addiction and currently resides in the suburbs of Duchess county, where he remarried and had more children.
Imogen was placed in foster care at the age of nine due to neglect from her mother after she relapsed back to her addiction to heroin. She jumped from home to home, suffering physical and mental abuse, but luckily was able to escape sexual abuse at the age of fourteen when she ran away. Since then, she's been working the streets as a prostitute, introduced to that way of life by another prostitute named Lady. Lefty is her pimp, and she suffers physical and sexual abuse from him as well as her customers. She is still determined to find her father, although she resents him as well and plans on going to college when she saves enough money to leave New York.
Name: Imogen Airelle
Age: 24
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, but prefers romantic relationships with women as compared to men because of her experience as a prostitute.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Personality: Imogen is very strong willed, but passive. She is intelligent despite her profession. Her demeanor is gentle, always soft spoken and prefers to avoid confrontation if she can help it. However, if she's angered, she will fight back, violently if necessary.
History: Imogen is of Barbadian descent, her mother, Chloe, is a drug addict currently in a halfway house somewhere in the Bronx. Imogen resents her greatly and has very little contact with her. Her father had abandoned them early on, unable to cope with Chloe's drug addiction and currently resides in the suburbs of Duchess county, where he remarried and had more children.
Imogen was placed in foster care at the age of nine due to neglect from her mother after she relapsed back to her addiction to heroin. She jumped from home to home, suffering physical and mental abuse, but luckily was able to escape sexual abuse at the age of fourteen when she ran away. Since then, she's been working the streets as a prostitute, introduced to that way of life by another prostitute named Lady. Lefty is her pimp, and she suffers physical and sexual abuse from him as well as her customers. She is still determined to find her father, although she resents him as well and plans on going to college when she saves enough money to leave New York.
IDEAS
1920's Cabaret RP
A 20 something girl just out of an abusive relationship runs away to New York to become a cabaret dancer. At first it's difficult for her to get in, but manages to get a position as a waitress. Meanwhile her husband is looking for her and finds her once she's made it big, comes back to torture her and make her life miserable. (Would need to double up on this one)
Princess Bride Fandom
This is an idea I've had for a very long time and is probably the only 'fandom' roleplay I would be willing to do. Basically, after they ride off into the sunset, Buttercup and Wesley try to figure out how to get back the 50 years of life that Count Rugen stole from Wesley. They head back to Miracle Max's for some help, and in the same step heal Inigo's wounds. Prince Humperdinck is back at his castle plotting how to find them and kill them for the humiliation he suffered. (Definitely need to double up on this one).
The Lady Warrior Saves the Princess
In the land of Seserine, a magical place where elves and fairies abound and homosexuality is not taboo, a princess is stolen in the dead of night by an evil wizard who has nasty plans for her. A bereft king seeks the aid of a lady warrior to rescue her and bring her home. The lady warrior takes the task, having been in love with the princess already but the feelings are not reciprocated. This is just a basic idea, but I would love to develop it more with an interested partner.
1920's Cabaret RP
A 20 something girl just out of an abusive relationship runs away to New York to become a cabaret dancer. At first it's difficult for her to get in, but manages to get a position as a waitress. Meanwhile her husband is looking for her and finds her once she's made it big, comes back to torture her and make her life miserable. (Would need to double up on this one)
Princess Bride Fandom
This is an idea I've had for a very long time and is probably the only 'fandom' roleplay I would be willing to do. Basically, after they ride off into the sunset, Buttercup and Wesley try to figure out how to get back the 50 years of life that Count Rugen stole from Wesley. They head back to Miracle Max's for some help, and in the same step heal Inigo's wounds. Prince Humperdinck is back at his castle plotting how to find them and kill them for the humiliation he suffered. (Definitely need to double up on this one).
The Lady Warrior Saves the Princess
In the land of Seserine, a magical place where elves and fairies abound and homosexuality is not taboo, a princess is stolen in the dead of night by an evil wizard who has nasty plans for her. A bereft king seeks the aid of a lady warrior to rescue her and bring her home. The lady warrior takes the task, having been in love with the princess already but the feelings are not reciprocated. This is just a basic idea, but I would love to develop it more with an interested partner.
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