Post by Caerys on May 14, 2013 1:13:49 GMT -5
The Monteclaire Estate
Evening
Late April, 23 CLE
It would be the days long after Caerys had returned from that nightmare in Zaun; gladiatorial combats were out of season, and there were no more jobs until at least a week later. Which meant as the Champion, she was now entitled to light training, leisure time and and rest. How could she rest, after seeing what she did in Zaun? After having lived through a waking nightmare?
Once, she had wondered why the house champion was a distant and aloof creature, someone who no longer interacted regularly with her fellow Brides.
Caerys was cleared by a Noxian clinic, not as refined as her treatment but just skilled enough to counteract the early-stages of the poison in her Slave Collar. She entered the manor through the front entrance now, like a normal resident there. All the servants, even Sylvia herself would acknowledge her return. Sylvia... the noblewoman didn’t even search for her, knowing Caerys would come back, a highly trained survivor who seemed to defy nightmarish odds.
So this was what it was like. To be rewarded for actions taken, to live in a gilded cage. Zaun had changed her, darkened her outlook considerably, who was the monster.
She looked at her abode; the lavish ‘cell’, the private quarters of the House Champion. Even underground, it commanded a view of one of the manor’s underground garden, and it was larger than many familys’ apartment blocks. The floor was covered with warm, earth tones for tiles, the walls lined with stone. The ceiling boards of deep, rich wood were well lit with many hexlights hanging to provide a homey ambience. The furniture was also fairly generous, with shelves laden with her trophies and achievements, including more grisly trophies recovered from her most vicious battles- and weapons that had nearly ended her life.
She looked at the lavish four post bed, almost as good as the Lady of the gladiator school- she couldn’t even bare to look at it, as it was where every head Bride- including herself- served their highest bidders. Today, her clique, her two chief associates and on and off lovers, waited for her on the bed, dressed to meet her like lovers- with sweetness and smiles.
“Vermilion! You’re back. We were waiting-” One began speaking, but was immediately cut off.
“Don’t call me that. Get out.” Caerys said, without looking at them, tossing their coats at them.
“What? You said you’d meet us-” Another said, but they didn’t seem to get the message
“I said GET OUT!”She shouted this time, looking at Cerise and Crimson, two girls who were completely broken in by Sylvia’s ways. They picked up their shawls and hastily vacated Caerys’s room.
Caerys laid there on the relatively cleaner tile floor, legs close to her chest, closing her eyes for an indeterminate amount of time. Her senses were groggy when she came to, and she slowly made her way to the washroom, an extension of her luxurious suite.
Caerys looked at herself in the mirror, ever day she was now sure the person she used to be was now gone... she washed her face vigorously, trying as hard as she could to remove the pale skin of her body, trying to rinse away the Vermilion hair, which may as well have been dipped in her victims’ blood. Victims... she has had only ever killed to survive- she kept telling herself this, as though it made it any less wrong.
Survive. As long as she lived, she might fix all of this. Who was she lying to? Her hands were stained now, always in the name of simply not being the one killed. She was a killer by her own choice and always pinned it on Sylvia.
She kept her head down as always, knowing she’d see the same person in the mirror... or maybe... someone else.
Evening
Late April, 23 CLE
It would be the days long after Caerys had returned from that nightmare in Zaun; gladiatorial combats were out of season, and there were no more jobs until at least a week later. Which meant as the Champion, she was now entitled to light training, leisure time and and rest. How could she rest, after seeing what she did in Zaun? After having lived through a waking nightmare?
Once, she had wondered why the house champion was a distant and aloof creature, someone who no longer interacted regularly with her fellow Brides.
Caerys was cleared by a Noxian clinic, not as refined as her treatment but just skilled enough to counteract the early-stages of the poison in her Slave Collar. She entered the manor through the front entrance now, like a normal resident there. All the servants, even Sylvia herself would acknowledge her return. Sylvia... the noblewoman didn’t even search for her, knowing Caerys would come back, a highly trained survivor who seemed to defy nightmarish odds.
So this was what it was like. To be rewarded for actions taken, to live in a gilded cage. Zaun had changed her, darkened her outlook considerably, who was the monster.
She looked at her abode; the lavish ‘cell’, the private quarters of the House Champion. Even underground, it commanded a view of one of the manor’s underground garden, and it was larger than many familys’ apartment blocks. The floor was covered with warm, earth tones for tiles, the walls lined with stone. The ceiling boards of deep, rich wood were well lit with many hexlights hanging to provide a homey ambience. The furniture was also fairly generous, with shelves laden with her trophies and achievements, including more grisly trophies recovered from her most vicious battles- and weapons that had nearly ended her life.
She looked at the lavish four post bed, almost as good as the Lady of the gladiator school- she couldn’t even bare to look at it, as it was where every head Bride- including herself- served their highest bidders. Today, her clique, her two chief associates and on and off lovers, waited for her on the bed, dressed to meet her like lovers- with sweetness and smiles.
“Vermilion! You’re back. We were waiting-” One began speaking, but was immediately cut off.
“Don’t call me that. Get out.” Caerys said, without looking at them, tossing their coats at them.
“What? You said you’d meet us-” Another said, but they didn’t seem to get the message
“I said GET OUT!”She shouted this time, looking at Cerise and Crimson, two girls who were completely broken in by Sylvia’s ways. They picked up their shawls and hastily vacated Caerys’s room.
Caerys laid there on the relatively cleaner tile floor, legs close to her chest, closing her eyes for an indeterminate amount of time. Her senses were groggy when she came to, and she slowly made her way to the washroom, an extension of her luxurious suite.
Caerys looked at herself in the mirror, ever day she was now sure the person she used to be was now gone... she washed her face vigorously, trying as hard as she could to remove the pale skin of her body, trying to rinse away the Vermilion hair, which may as well have been dipped in her victims’ blood. Victims... she has had only ever killed to survive- she kept telling herself this, as though it made it any less wrong.
Survive. As long as she lived, she might fix all of this. Who was she lying to? Her hands were stained now, always in the name of simply not being the one killed. She was a killer by her own choice and always pinned it on Sylvia.
She kept her head down as always, knowing she’d see the same person in the mirror... or maybe... someone else.
