Post by Momo on Aug 15, 2009 17:39:44 GMT -5
So here I was, sitting unsuspecting and eating chocolate ice cream when BAM! Genevieve muse hits hard. xD
- - - - -
His Little Purple Stain
Word Count: 656
It seemed to Genevieve like common sense, that if a Highland Jack was to breed with a Doe who was a half Torquehelm, eventually one of their children could be born pure Torque. She was the proof of that, the unsatisfactory result of their third litter; before that her parents had been lucky: all of their babies were half Highlander. There was very little purple coloring those Leverets, and for that her mother retained her status as ‘favorite’ for an unusually long amount of time. It probably helped that she was a sweet, meek Doe, with cute lopped ears and a timid voice. The Jack liked subservience.
Well, their track record was ruined with her. She was their youngest child, younger than her twin by two whole minutes. Supposedly her father was there to witness the birth, and when her sister Charmaine rolled out he was thrilled beyond belief. Not only was she a pure Highlander, more than enough to earn his favor for life, she was their first baby to be born a Doe.
It was quite an act to follow, and it should be obvious by now that she wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. “Too much purple on this one.” That’s what he said as she lay in her mother’s lap, blind and helpless. He left this child to the care of his disgraced Doe, and took no interest in her until long after she had been given a name and had learned to walk and talk.
Her mother had tried to stop him, warned him that the binding he planned for her would snap her baby’s neck. Genevieve had always secretly been her favorite child; she was certainly the easiest to manage – there wasn’t a spot of Highlander pride or rebellion in her – and she was pleasing in a quiet sort of way. And even though their daughter was a disappointment to them both, no child deserved what he concocted.
Father got his way, of course. His youngest daughter, the last to ever be born from that mopey Highlander/Torquehelm Doe of his, was not going to get away with some lenient binding that would allow her to forget just how low she really was. He melded the heavy collar from gold to get the point across that she’d never be free, not from the depression that permeated her rotten region, and definitely not from the fear that, no matter how hard she worked, she’d forever be inadequate.
Genevieve had been in the room she shared with another Leveret child, no doubt reading from her book on natural history that she used to carry with her everywhere. She didn’t hear him coming, and when he approached she was too small and scared to fight him off. It didn’t take long for her father to shove the weighty binding around her neck, and after that it was too late; she could hardly raise her neck under the cumbersome thing.
But that wasn’t all. “This way you’ll be just like your mother,” he sneered cruelly before pulling her ears painfully downwards and clipping them into that unnatural position.
“If you tamper with this binding in any way, I will find out and you will be punished.” After speaking that dire threat he walked out of the room and out of her life.
Years passed, but he never spoke to her again, not even to let her that she was being sold to a traveling band of Leverets. No, the strange Leverets broke it to her themselves, and upon seeing her couldn’t help but remarking on her binding and wondered how expensive it was. Hearing their greedy chatter, all she could do was laugh softly, without a note of bitterness.
They had no idea. No price could compare to the moment when she was able to free herself from the horrible gold prison for good, and throw it at her father’s feet.
- - - - -
Self-Preservation
Word Count: 605
“Mainey! Mainey, come back!” Cried the voice of a much younger Genevieve, desperately trying to keep up with her twin sister, who could run much faster than she could.
Charmaine slowed, her wavy red mane falling over her bright blue eyes. The little Torque was almost in awe of her pretty Doe sister, with her swirling gold markings and beautiful silver jewelry. It never occurred to her to be jealous, that no expense was paid on her twin while she was completely ignored by their father. Mainey deserved all the attention; she was so smart and nice, not like what Does were supposed to be at all.
“Don’t worry Gen, I was going to come back for you,” the Highlander replied kindly, nudging her sister lovingly. They were six, turning seven in a couple of weeks, and the differences between them were as stark as night and day. Still, they were inseparatable; only pulled apart when the Jack desired Charmaine’s presence. She usually returned with a bauble or two – a new doll or ring – and did her best to share with her shy, dark colored twin.
They were nine, nearly ten, and the differences between them were becoming stark. Genevieve spent most of her time either working – dusting and light cleaning, mostly – and Charmaine was usually seen in the company of one of their Jack’s younger Does, giggling and blushing and basically acting feminine. Her dear Mainey was growing away from her, but there was always time for a quick afternoon tea. The Torque looked forward to those short meetings, usually lasting no longer than an hour.
In the blink of an eye they were fifteen, and on their way to becoming young adults. By now Genevieve’s binding was more of a constant annoyance than an actual causer of pain, although from time to time her neck was too heavy to lift. Those were bad days, but they were few and far between; what bothered her more was the way she was treated. Ever since she received her bindings people looked down on her.
It happened one day that they were close sisters no longer.
“Mainey? I brought tea,” said Genevieve brightly, wheeling in the trays she brought into the Doe's room nearly every day.
“Genevieve, I have singing lessons – please go away.” The voice that greeted her was sharp and wholly unfamiliar. "Leave the cart, though." She added, breaking her sister's heart.
“But Main-” The Torque Leveret spoke up, getting close to begging. Did this golden collar around her neck really change everything?
“I don’t have time, okay? I have so many things to practice. And it’s Charmaine. Nicknames are for little kids.” Her large blue eyes weren't even looking at her now; her gaze was focused on her dainty reflection. Genevieve backed out of the room, surprised to find there were no tears in her eyes. Maybe she had expected this ever since they were children.
Mainey didn’t have time for her Leveret twin any more, it was as simple as that. In a few years she was going to be traded away to an illustrious Morganberry Jack, while Genevieve would be stuck here. She had no idea what her future looked like, although she had her suspicions that her father couldn’t wait to get rid of her. After all, her existence was a constant reminder that even he, a great Highlander Jack, could produce something of no real worth.
Funny then, that he would adorn her with gold. Perhaps he hoped she’d realize that she wasn’t worth the precious metal crushing against her body.
Well, she had always been a bit slow on the uptake. Her father said so himself.
- - - - -
His Little Purple Stain
Word Count: 656
It seemed to Genevieve like common sense, that if a Highland Jack was to breed with a Doe who was a half Torquehelm, eventually one of their children could be born pure Torque. She was the proof of that, the unsatisfactory result of their third litter; before that her parents had been lucky: all of their babies were half Highlander. There was very little purple coloring those Leverets, and for that her mother retained her status as ‘favorite’ for an unusually long amount of time. It probably helped that she was a sweet, meek Doe, with cute lopped ears and a timid voice. The Jack liked subservience.
Well, their track record was ruined with her. She was their youngest child, younger than her twin by two whole minutes. Supposedly her father was there to witness the birth, and when her sister Charmaine rolled out he was thrilled beyond belief. Not only was she a pure Highlander, more than enough to earn his favor for life, she was their first baby to be born a Doe.
It was quite an act to follow, and it should be obvious by now that she wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. “Too much purple on this one.” That’s what he said as she lay in her mother’s lap, blind and helpless. He left this child to the care of his disgraced Doe, and took no interest in her until long after she had been given a name and had learned to walk and talk.
Her mother had tried to stop him, warned him that the binding he planned for her would snap her baby’s neck. Genevieve had always secretly been her favorite child; she was certainly the easiest to manage – there wasn’t a spot of Highlander pride or rebellion in her – and she was pleasing in a quiet sort of way. And even though their daughter was a disappointment to them both, no child deserved what he concocted.
Father got his way, of course. His youngest daughter, the last to ever be born from that mopey Highlander/Torquehelm Doe of his, was not going to get away with some lenient binding that would allow her to forget just how low she really was. He melded the heavy collar from gold to get the point across that she’d never be free, not from the depression that permeated her rotten region, and definitely not from the fear that, no matter how hard she worked, she’d forever be inadequate.
Genevieve had been in the room she shared with another Leveret child, no doubt reading from her book on natural history that she used to carry with her everywhere. She didn’t hear him coming, and when he approached she was too small and scared to fight him off. It didn’t take long for her father to shove the weighty binding around her neck, and after that it was too late; she could hardly raise her neck under the cumbersome thing.
But that wasn’t all. “This way you’ll be just like your mother,” he sneered cruelly before pulling her ears painfully downwards and clipping them into that unnatural position.
“If you tamper with this binding in any way, I will find out and you will be punished.” After speaking that dire threat he walked out of the room and out of her life.
Years passed, but he never spoke to her again, not even to let her that she was being sold to a traveling band of Leverets. No, the strange Leverets broke it to her themselves, and upon seeing her couldn’t help but remarking on her binding and wondered how expensive it was. Hearing their greedy chatter, all she could do was laugh softly, without a note of bitterness.
They had no idea. No price could compare to the moment when she was able to free herself from the horrible gold prison for good, and throw it at her father’s feet.
- - - - -
Self-Preservation
Word Count: 605
“Mainey! Mainey, come back!” Cried the voice of a much younger Genevieve, desperately trying to keep up with her twin sister, who could run much faster than she could.
Charmaine slowed, her wavy red mane falling over her bright blue eyes. The little Torque was almost in awe of her pretty Doe sister, with her swirling gold markings and beautiful silver jewelry. It never occurred to her to be jealous, that no expense was paid on her twin while she was completely ignored by their father. Mainey deserved all the attention; she was so smart and nice, not like what Does were supposed to be at all.
“Don’t worry Gen, I was going to come back for you,” the Highlander replied kindly, nudging her sister lovingly. They were six, turning seven in a couple of weeks, and the differences between them were as stark as night and day. Still, they were inseparatable; only pulled apart when the Jack desired Charmaine’s presence. She usually returned with a bauble or two – a new doll or ring – and did her best to share with her shy, dark colored twin.
They were nine, nearly ten, and the differences between them were becoming stark. Genevieve spent most of her time either working – dusting and light cleaning, mostly – and Charmaine was usually seen in the company of one of their Jack’s younger Does, giggling and blushing and basically acting feminine. Her dear Mainey was growing away from her, but there was always time for a quick afternoon tea. The Torque looked forward to those short meetings, usually lasting no longer than an hour.
In the blink of an eye they were fifteen, and on their way to becoming young adults. By now Genevieve’s binding was more of a constant annoyance than an actual causer of pain, although from time to time her neck was too heavy to lift. Those were bad days, but they were few and far between; what bothered her more was the way she was treated. Ever since she received her bindings people looked down on her.
It happened one day that they were close sisters no longer.
“Mainey? I brought tea,” said Genevieve brightly, wheeling in the trays she brought into the Doe's room nearly every day.
“Genevieve, I have singing lessons – please go away.” The voice that greeted her was sharp and wholly unfamiliar. "Leave the cart, though." She added, breaking her sister's heart.
“But Main-” The Torque Leveret spoke up, getting close to begging. Did this golden collar around her neck really change everything?
“I don’t have time, okay? I have so many things to practice. And it’s Charmaine. Nicknames are for little kids.” Her large blue eyes weren't even looking at her now; her gaze was focused on her dainty reflection. Genevieve backed out of the room, surprised to find there were no tears in her eyes. Maybe she had expected this ever since they were children.
Mainey didn’t have time for her Leveret twin any more, it was as simple as that. In a few years she was going to be traded away to an illustrious Morganberry Jack, while Genevieve would be stuck here. She had no idea what her future looked like, although she had her suspicions that her father couldn’t wait to get rid of her. After all, her existence was a constant reminder that even he, a great Highlander Jack, could produce something of no real worth.
Funny then, that he would adorn her with gold. Perhaps he hoped she’d realize that she wasn’t worth the precious metal crushing against her body.
Well, she had always been a bit slow on the uptake. Her father said so himself.
