Sweetcherrie

I guess that was a short game for me...I'll continue lurking

Tina hadn’t liked the captain much, but she liked the lieutenant less. He stared at her often. And she’d heard whispers about him liking young boys. She shuddered, she should be careful, lest he’d find out that she wasn’t a young boy by force. She slipped downstairs and pulled the plank that hid her secret stash. Adam generally made sure that he held some nice things aside for her. Normally she took it to the slaves, she couldn’t risk her breasts growing anyways, but today she needed the energy it would give her. Chewing on a piece of juicy bacon she sat in her dark corner. Who on earth could’ve done this? Certainly not Adam, he was way too nice to do anything like this. And the way she had heard the captain was murdered sort of ruled out some of the smaller boys, or didn't it? OOC: Vote for Azuran - Paqs (young boy)

Dark is the night I stare up I’m five years old Hiding under my mom’s bedspread My cheek against her, her arm around me Protected and loved. Pinpricks of light I try to count those stars Like I count the years From then until now And sigh. oh...a new line...erm Bit corny... 'love is....'

Oh dear I'm rusty...

She didn't feel much like working with Carey and Davey. In fact she didn't like much working together with anyone, it...complicated things. So instead she chose to deal with the slave decks, a job nobody else much wanted normally, and she didn't mind. Scrubbing was scrubbing. Down below she let her eyes get used to the dark. Many eyes were staring back at her. Some from ground level, some at eye-height. Dark faces, with dark glistening eyes. 'Missy have bread?' a soft voice whispered. Tina knew that most of the crew considered these people as less than pigs, but she often wondered who the pigs were. They seemed to do their very best to keep their cages clean, which is more than she could say from some of her shipmates. She looked at the woman that the voice had come from, she recognized her. This woman had come accross as one of the leaders from the female slaves. Tina remembered the others calling here Aziza. 'No. Aziza? not today. I've just come to clean up your buckets'. The woman flashed a grin, and reached behind her to grab the bucket with feces. 'Missy good to us,' The black woman whispered 'so we good to missy.' and handed the bucket over. Tiny took it and stood there for a moment, not sure how to react. She then turned around without saying something and started to move to the corner that had the tubes going into the ocean to empty the bucket. Mid-way she froze a second. The woman had called her missy, not massa. This may end badly.

I'll take sun over rain.......darn I live in the wrong country pen or keyboard?

She didn't like having to pretent being someone else, but hey all sailors seemed to think a woman aboard would be bad luck, and she had to make a living somehow. So Tina did the only thing she had learned from her dead-beat dad, and got herself a job as a junior deckhand aboard The Fat Slug. For her first trip she had cut her hair short, but fast enough she realized that as long as she didn't comb it, none of the men noticed a thing, they were all too occupied with their own jobs. Hiding her breasts was a different deal however. She made sure to not eat too much, and wound her upperbody tightly in cloth, still she worried about what would happen if anybody ever found out. For the moment it worked however, the men started calling her Tiney. She pulled her weight, and hey, the captain had even asked her to come back for another trip.

Shaken, if you're going to mix it, might as well do it properly. Believing or Knowing?

Good, low-key is good. Looking forward to that wherewolf game that was started yesterday, maybe it'll get me kick-started *hugs*

It's been a while, but have room for me?

It had been a long time since she had sat down with a keyboard to see if she could write anything. She wasn't sure if she still had it in her. Years ago she had written some short stories, and even a novella, but life had taken over and though she had been wanting to write, even made a few attempts at it, it never really wanted to come out. She blamed life. She blamed her boyfriend. She blamed her job, and the everlasting need for money. Not that she was poor, not at all, but it still seemed as if there was never enough. She sighed and looked at the empty screen of her tablet again. This had changed at least. Back then she had been confined to write in her room on her computer. She'd had a laptop, but back then the machine was so fast out of battery that attempting to write anything on it for more than an hour had been impossible. Now she had a shiny ipad in front of her, with a lightweight keyboard. Would this make it easier? Easier to get the words out on paper? Following others was about the only thing she did nowadays. Watching as pen friends published books. Wanting to read them, but somehow being scared it would remind her of her own lack of words. Or more her own ...yeah what? At least she had noone else to blame for not writing, but herself. She was the one who had made the choice to buy a house together with her boyfriend. She was there when they got a second cat, and when they picked up their first adorable puppe, and their second. She willingly signed up for another study that took many hours from her already busy week. Now granted, her studies gave her a feeling of satisfaction. Every time she passed another course, she felt proud that she was proving that she could do it. Then again, wasn't it her own sense of insecurity that drove her to yet again pick up another studies? Why did she need to prove that she was good enough? She slumped in the chair a little, thinking of the exam that she would have this afternoon. She had set herself up for failure this time. She had come with excuses that she needed her holiday, that she needed time for herself and to relax. The end result was that she was most certainly going to fail the exam this afternoon. Staring out of the window she regretted that the summer was about to pass over into fall again already. Had she taken enough out of this summer? The holiday certainly had been going too fast. On the one hand she had wanted to relax, force herself to actually have a proper holiday, to enjoy herself. On the other hand there had been the exam throwing a shadow over her entire holidays. It felt as if she had waisted her time, as she had so often done. That she could've done so much more, if only she had put her energy into it. Instead a load of excuses was everpresent as to why she would basically sit back and do nothing of interest. Afterwards she would have trouble remembering what she had done. Well...that is, until she actually thought about it properly. Most of her days had been filled, right? She turned back to her tablet and started making a list of what she had done this summer holiday. They had cleaned the whole house together, top to bottom. That had taken at least a few days. They had gone to IKEA for shopping for a day, that had been fun. She had read a couple of good books, watched quite a few good films, and had even spent some time with her mom going to second-hand markets. Also, they had been to the zoo twice. Hmm...maybe her holiday wasn't all wasted time. Another big sigh escaped her and she looked at the screen. Funny, it wasn't empty anymore. A story had appeared as out of thin air. Maybe she could still write a little. Maybe all it took was just to sit down and do it. Maybe, just maybe, she would find more time to write a little....tomorrow.

Don't stop posting now. I want to know what happened to the pregnant lady This reminds me of some Tanith Lee books btw, the style of writing and the feel it creates.

How about the moon phases and their significance?

Never have I ever seen more precious pebbles that I could hear flowing through the breeze of the blue trees.

very nice