- Charlotte ManderlyMember
- Real name : Celeste
Aantal berichten : 26
IC posts : 12
Character sheet
Age: 25
Occupation: Madam
Residence : Isla de Juegas
Who's to say you don't need a toy collection?
vr okt 27, 2017 9:54 pm
AFTER ALL THIS TIME // Charlotte
Even though D’Auvignon, much like Isla de Juegas, was situated right at the coast, it was entirely different. It smelled different, it felt different, the people were different. The weather was certainly different. As Charlotte stepped off the ship that had carried her from her well-beloved hometown to the northernmost city of the continent, she pulled her cloak more tightly around her and fixed the shawl she had wrapped around her neck and shoulders. She had never been one for colder weather; she had never been in cold weather before until long after she’d taken over the Rose. The first time she had set foot in Navarre, she hadn’t felt warm once during her entire stay. She was more used to it now, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
But she had come here for a good reason, one that was entirely worth the week-long journey from her familiar island to freezing D’Auvignon. She ran a successful business which was based solely on knowing what her clientele liked. And while most of what her clientele liked generally boiled down to an enthusiastic female body of decent proportions, they also liked it when that enthusiastic female body was wrapped up in a nice-looking set of clothes – or, in this case, underclothes. And it just so happened that the tailor whose line of undergarments was most well-known and praised among the brothels of Rhoynar was in D’Auvignon.
With a charming smile and a wink, she accepted her bag from one of the sailors, whose eyes immediately went to give her a slow once-over. She didn’t mind; she had displayed more of her body in far more degrading situations. If anything, that he would bother looking when she was hidden under layers upon layers of clothing was flattering.
Her bag securely in hand, Charlotte made her way from the docks to the inn she would be staying at for the next few days. She never rushed the trip to D’Auvignon, whenever she had to make it; the sea voyage alone was too draining to undertake again within a few days respite in between. She would drop of her bag and make her way to David’s shop, purchase what she needed, and then return to the warm comfort of the inn. In the next few days, she would look around the city, visit some of the brothels there, just to compare, and perhaps visit some jewellers to pick up something nice for herself. She had earned it, after all.
The inn was familiar to her, so it took little time to retrieve her key and put her belongings away before she was out the door again, carrying only a small purse she kept hidden among the folds of her cloak. David wasn’t cheap, after all, especially when she was buying for a great number of girls, but she didn’t really fancy being relieved of her money by a pickpocket before she had had a chance to spend it.
David’s shop was located on the outskirts of the city. To all appearances, it was the workshop of a simple and non-ambitious tailor specialising in women’s clothing, but word travelled quickly along the appropriate – or inappropriate, as it were – channels. Charlotte walked up to the shop and turned the knob with a gloved hand. The inside of the shop didn’t betray its side business anymore than the outside; the room could be called tiny and it wouldn’t comfortably fit a great number of people. Charlotte took off her gloves and tucked them away into her purse and had a look around the store.
There were some dresses on display that she took an interest in. She allowed herself a few moments to inspect them, touching the fabric carefully and scrutinising the embellishments. One of them was particularly lovely. She might go for a fitting, if David didn’t charge her too much for the lingerie. Decision made, she made her way to the counter, tapping her nails against the wood. “David?” she called out in the direction of the door leading to the back.
&David
But she had come here for a good reason, one that was entirely worth the week-long journey from her familiar island to freezing D’Auvignon. She ran a successful business which was based solely on knowing what her clientele liked. And while most of what her clientele liked generally boiled down to an enthusiastic female body of decent proportions, they also liked it when that enthusiastic female body was wrapped up in a nice-looking set of clothes – or, in this case, underclothes. And it just so happened that the tailor whose line of undergarments was most well-known and praised among the brothels of Rhoynar was in D’Auvignon.
With a charming smile and a wink, she accepted her bag from one of the sailors, whose eyes immediately went to give her a slow once-over. She didn’t mind; she had displayed more of her body in far more degrading situations. If anything, that he would bother looking when she was hidden under layers upon layers of clothing was flattering.
Her bag securely in hand, Charlotte made her way from the docks to the inn she would be staying at for the next few days. She never rushed the trip to D’Auvignon, whenever she had to make it; the sea voyage alone was too draining to undertake again within a few days respite in between. She would drop of her bag and make her way to David’s shop, purchase what she needed, and then return to the warm comfort of the inn. In the next few days, she would look around the city, visit some of the brothels there, just to compare, and perhaps visit some jewellers to pick up something nice for herself. She had earned it, after all.
The inn was familiar to her, so it took little time to retrieve her key and put her belongings away before she was out the door again, carrying only a small purse she kept hidden among the folds of her cloak. David wasn’t cheap, after all, especially when she was buying for a great number of girls, but she didn’t really fancy being relieved of her money by a pickpocket before she had had a chance to spend it.
David’s shop was located on the outskirts of the city. To all appearances, it was the workshop of a simple and non-ambitious tailor specialising in women’s clothing, but word travelled quickly along the appropriate – or inappropriate, as it were – channels. Charlotte walked up to the shop and turned the knob with a gloved hand. The inside of the shop didn’t betray its side business anymore than the outside; the room could be called tiny and it wouldn’t comfortably fit a great number of people. Charlotte took off her gloves and tucked them away into her purse and had a look around the store.
There were some dresses on display that she took an interest in. She allowed herself a few moments to inspect them, touching the fabric carefully and scrutinising the embellishments. One of them was particularly lovely. She might go for a fitting, if David didn’t charge her too much for the lingerie. Decision made, she made her way to the counter, tapping her nails against the wood. “David?” she called out in the direction of the door leading to the back.
&David
- David LeeMember
- Real name : Appeltje
Aantal berichten : 28
IC posts : 1
Character sheet
Age: 592
Occupation: Clothing tailor/designer
Residence : Navarre
Re: Who's to say you don't need a toy collection?
ma okt 30, 2017 12:25 am
"I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.,, - Edger Allan Poe
First daylight peers its way through flowy white curtains, bathing the otherwise colourless room in soft orange light. It must be a little past five in the morning, way too early for life on the streets to have started. There are no women laughing, no children yelling and no dogs growling and fighting over a piece of bone. This blissful silence, however, cannot last forever, soon the mockingjay will sing its song and the high church of D'auvignon will ring its bells, anouncing the start of a new day. Little did the boy underneath the ebony satin sheets care about what soon would happen outside, he was enjoying this moment of utter silence, releshing in the warmth of the naked woman who lay nestled against him. She must have been beautiful to most last night, clad in nothing but his own makings of strings and black lace. He loved how her lower lip had trembled in excitement as he had tied her wrists together in an intricate knot of red ribbons. But perhaps, the thing he had enjoyed most was the look of dissapointment on her pale face as he had abruptly ended their evening, leaving her wanting. That's right, he didn't touch her, they only slept eventually. Why? It turns out she wasn't pretty enough... and with that the blissful silence was broken.
D'auvignon, capital of Naverre, soon started bustling to life. Streets were already starting to get crowded as soon both the northern and southern market would commence. And everyone native to D'Auvignon knew that you had to be early or else you'd risk going home with empty hands. The boy we talked about earlier, was off to a rather slow start. As it turns out, the girl was only -remotely- pretty on the outside; her insides were that of a dragon as the boy had perhaps bluntly told her she wasn't good enough to be his new muse. Perhaps he had deserved her act of rage against his cheek which was now slightly swollen and burning angrily. Whatever the case may be, he was already over it and was more worried about his store not being supplied and occupied.
The sounds of the boy's footsteps crossing the cobblestones echoed through the streets as he was closing in on the southern market. He knew he needed new fabric, badly, and he also knew that there was this son of a b*tch who was probably already snatching away the best quality linen and lace. As it turns out he could already see the top of her ugly greasy blonde hair which was tied together in a very messy topknot bouncing in front of the fabrics stall. The chocolate-haired boy slowed down to an easy walk as he approached the woman and stall. He immediately bumped the blonde out of his way as he snatched away the exotic red fabric she had been pawing. "I'll take this" The boy says with a smug smile, enjoying the fierce ugly looks the blonde was giving him from the corner of his eye. The blonde is about the protest when the boy interrupts with the rest of his order; "please also give me all of your black satin and I need new needles." As the stallkeeper was trying to comply with his request the boy turns towards the blonde. "Sorry, Eleanor, I don't have time for you today, I have seen enough ugly already. Also, did a bird poop on your head?" he smiles briefly after which he pays the stallkeeper and cooly walks away with his loot, whistling a merry tune, seemingly happy with how he had handled the situation just now.
About ten minutes later, the boy had left behind the center of D'auvignon and was rushing down a narrow street at the edge of the city where his small shop was located. The brownhaired boy looked up at the slightly crooked sign which read "Lee's Tailoring" and flashed a smile, he really needed to fix that later today. As he entered his workspace he immediately flipped the 'closed' sign to 'open' and hurried to the back to store his new fabric. His shop was small and perhaps a little outdated but don't be mistaken; none of his clothing was poorly made nor cheap. The Lee boy took great pride in what he did and he would never sell something of which he didn't approve somehow. Instead of standing behind the counter, the boy entered his atelier and stared at what was going to be his new centerpiece. It was a fierce red ball gown, with lighter and darker patches streaming down the waist. He had already carefully stitched flower appliques in different shades of reds and greens on the bodice and was currently debating if he should continue the flowerstream all the way down to the skirt or not. Currently the dress was made for somebody around 1.70; about ankle length but now he suddenly considered cutting it to mid-calf.
When the boy suddenly hears his name he turns away from the dress and heads towards the door leading to the counter. David Lee steps through the door where his eyes meet with familiair blue ones. "Ah~ I had already started to wonder when I would have the honour to see your face again, lady Manderly." he said to her in a low voice, a smile playing on his lips. David didn't even need to scan her from top to bottom to know that she looked flawless as usual. He suddenly wondered: Was she wearing his undergarments? his gaze lingered on her chest area for a moment before meeting her cold blue eyes once more. "What can I do for you today?" He asks her, curious to what had brought her here; and even though he could make a well educated guess, he wanted to hear her say it. "You look beautiful, olive flatters you" he says as he turns away from her, walking to the cream coloured leather divan and asking her with his hand to sit down on it. "Tea for the lady?" he asks her, eyeing her from the side. 'She is like a painting', is the thought that suddenly pops up as his eyes drop to the ground.
Hoop dat je er wat mee kunt T_T
TOM HARDY MADE ME THIS BRACELET
- Charlotte ManderlyMember
- Real name : Celeste
Aantal berichten : 26
IC posts : 12
Character sheet
Age: 25
Occupation: Madam
Residence : Isla de Juegas
Re: Who's to say you don't need a toy collection?
ma okt 30, 2017 10:23 am
AFTER ALL THIS TIME // Charlotte
As she had expected, David didn’t take long to appear, emerging from his atelier with his usual charming smile well in place. Charlotte, who had had dealings with men very much like David in the past, knew there was more to that smile than first met the eye. She didn’t mind so much, as he had always been courteous to her since he had caught on that she would be a loyal customer with money to spend, but she could imagine it might be more unnerving to others. As it was, she was more amused with David’s manner than anything else. “I thought it would be cruel to make you wait any longer,” she said airily, eyes glittering.
She didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to her chest and lingered, but she didn’t comment on it. She knew she had a nice body, and if he wanted to look, who was she to stop him? The compliment he paid her sounded easy and sincere and made her lips quirk into an amused smile. “Charmer,” she teased him; she was wearing one of his own creations. She took off her cloak and folded it carefully over one arm. It was, thankfully, warm in the shop and she anticipated she would be here a while, if her dealings with David in the past were any indication. Besides, she was picky when it came to the things she put on her girls, so she usually took longer than most to outline her wishes.
“I’d like some of your creations for my girls,” she told him as she followed him to the divan he had gestured to. She put her cloak over the armrest and set her purse against it before she sat down and smoothed out her skirts. Up until five years ago, she had had to do without the fancy dresses she had grown up with, and it had made her suitably appreciative of them now. “Two sugars,” she added when David asked her about tea. She waited for him to return and had another look around the store from where she was sitting. “You do a wonderful job at pretending you’re not as successful as you are,” she called out, smiling. She knew David turned a profit most would be jealous of and could likely afford a larger and more lavish shop, but for some reason, he chose to remain where he was. She didn’t want to ask; it wasn’t her business, so long as he supplied her with what she needed.
When David returned, Charlotte took the cup of tea from him and took a careful sip. The tea was hot but not to the point of scalding, and sweetened just the way she liked. She gave a satisfied smile and put the cup down in her lap, holding it with both hands. “We’ve been turning a good profit recently, so I thought I would stop by and see if you have anything nice for me.” There really was no question of ‘if’; in all the years she had been stopping by David’s shop, he had never disappointed her. It was why she made the godforsaken trip to Navarre’s capital every once in a while, though she would never tell him she had come for him especially, instead of just stopping by while she was in the area. No need to further inflate his ego.
She didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to her chest and lingered, but she didn’t comment on it. She knew she had a nice body, and if he wanted to look, who was she to stop him? The compliment he paid her sounded easy and sincere and made her lips quirk into an amused smile. “Charmer,” she teased him; she was wearing one of his own creations. She took off her cloak and folded it carefully over one arm. It was, thankfully, warm in the shop and she anticipated she would be here a while, if her dealings with David in the past were any indication. Besides, she was picky when it came to the things she put on her girls, so she usually took longer than most to outline her wishes.
“I’d like some of your creations for my girls,” she told him as she followed him to the divan he had gestured to. She put her cloak over the armrest and set her purse against it before she sat down and smoothed out her skirts. Up until five years ago, she had had to do without the fancy dresses she had grown up with, and it had made her suitably appreciative of them now. “Two sugars,” she added when David asked her about tea. She waited for him to return and had another look around the store from where she was sitting. “You do a wonderful job at pretending you’re not as successful as you are,” she called out, smiling. She knew David turned a profit most would be jealous of and could likely afford a larger and more lavish shop, but for some reason, he chose to remain where he was. She didn’t want to ask; it wasn’t her business, so long as he supplied her with what she needed.
When David returned, Charlotte took the cup of tea from him and took a careful sip. The tea was hot but not to the point of scalding, and sweetened just the way she liked. She gave a satisfied smile and put the cup down in her lap, holding it with both hands. “We’ve been turning a good profit recently, so I thought I would stop by and see if you have anything nice for me.” There really was no question of ‘if’; in all the years she had been stopping by David’s shop, he had never disappointed her. It was why she made the godforsaken trip to Navarre’s capital every once in a while, though she would never tell him she had come for him especially, instead of just stopping by while she was in the area. No need to further inflate his ego.
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