Lagertha
Devilishly Wicked
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2014
- Location
- Conneticut
The small city they lived in was less then plentiful. The poor were on the streets, unable to feed themselves, or selling their bodies for money. They did what they could to get by. They would steal, murder, blackmail anyone to get any little bit of gold they could wrap their fingers around to eat. Not many of the middle class blamed them. Everyday people would past them in the streets to go to work, to do their daily duties of making bread or making shoes. Whatever they had to do, fetching water, the poor were all forgotten. Except when their corpses were dragged out by the soldiers or civilians who could not stand to look at their rotting corpses. The richest of the people in the city, seemed to be in a particular area of the city.
There was a particular structure in the east of the city, that held most of the fancier events that lasted all night and day. Usually parties that no one ever got invited to. However, her family had often spent months on preparing for certain events, that Ivora had never seen.
She had grown up in this city, holding onto her mother's dress as she fetched water. She had gotten so tired of the simple things her mother would do, to try to teach her how to be a proper woman for a proper her man. Ivora could still remember the first day she had ran off to her father's sculpting shop hiding from her mother. She had stumbled upon her father working on a sculptor of a baby girl and her mother holding her. Ivora was so awe struck with how he worked, stabbing at the rock and forming shapes and faces that she had begged her father to teach her.
Over the years things had been calm. Ivora had grown up in the shop from then on, learning all the little tools, what they did, how to use how to form beautiful things. After a while, her father would only sculpt with her, letting her make what ever she wished unless someone requested otherwise. Years had seemed to go by with one thing in particular, a party for a wealthy child they would always sculpt something small for, something for his birthday, but this year was different.
Ivora had finally had a grand idea for a present, especially when her father had stated the family wanted a big surprise for the child this year. So months in advance they had worked, creating a grand sculptor for the boy. Ivora had been so pleased with what they had created and this year her father had promised to bring her along, stating that she was old enough to attend.
She had never really attended any parties, and her mother tried her best to dress her up, but Ivora had fought with her. The dress was too much and she had picked one of her work dresses, less fabric, easier to move in. Her mother tried putting up her hair but Ivora had declined, preferring her hair stay down and wavy like it always was. Her gray eyes had stared at her mother in a bit of anger, slapping her hands away. Her father had merely laughed at the display, commenting that she was just like her mother.
Her work boots had clicked against the ground as she had followed her father up the trail to the building, a large one with monuments on the outside of it. They were of angels, holding swords, great wings and golden eyes. How beautiful and graceful they looked, and they walked past them closer to the doors. Their creation had already been taken inside, a large blanket was thrown over it hiding it as it sat in the middle of the room. People were already inside, gathering and chatting as they walked in. Her father pushed her strawberry colored hair out of her face as they walked in and he moved to greet some friends. "Come here Ivora, meet some old friends of mine." She smiled lightly as he dragged her over, he was dressed so formally, everyone was, except her of course who had dressed in such a casual manner. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse my daughter. She has her mother's heart." The couple laughed as they looked at the young girl who wasn't paying much attention. Her father tried to grab her to join the conversation but Ivora held no interest. "When do we unveil our masterpiece?" She asked looked at her father who smiled down at the young woman who only stood at 5'3. "When the boy comes out for his birthday celebration of course!"
There was a particular structure in the east of the city, that held most of the fancier events that lasted all night and day. Usually parties that no one ever got invited to. However, her family had often spent months on preparing for certain events, that Ivora had never seen.
She had grown up in this city, holding onto her mother's dress as she fetched water. She had gotten so tired of the simple things her mother would do, to try to teach her how to be a proper woman for a proper her man. Ivora could still remember the first day she had ran off to her father's sculpting shop hiding from her mother. She had stumbled upon her father working on a sculptor of a baby girl and her mother holding her. Ivora was so awe struck with how he worked, stabbing at the rock and forming shapes and faces that she had begged her father to teach her.
Over the years things had been calm. Ivora had grown up in the shop from then on, learning all the little tools, what they did, how to use how to form beautiful things. After a while, her father would only sculpt with her, letting her make what ever she wished unless someone requested otherwise. Years had seemed to go by with one thing in particular, a party for a wealthy child they would always sculpt something small for, something for his birthday, but this year was different.
Ivora had finally had a grand idea for a present, especially when her father had stated the family wanted a big surprise for the child this year. So months in advance they had worked, creating a grand sculptor for the boy. Ivora had been so pleased with what they had created and this year her father had promised to bring her along, stating that she was old enough to attend.
She had never really attended any parties, and her mother tried her best to dress her up, but Ivora had fought with her. The dress was too much and she had picked one of her work dresses, less fabric, easier to move in. Her mother tried putting up her hair but Ivora had declined, preferring her hair stay down and wavy like it always was. Her gray eyes had stared at her mother in a bit of anger, slapping her hands away. Her father had merely laughed at the display, commenting that she was just like her mother.
Her work boots had clicked against the ground as she had followed her father up the trail to the building, a large one with monuments on the outside of it. They were of angels, holding swords, great wings and golden eyes. How beautiful and graceful they looked, and they walked past them closer to the doors. Their creation had already been taken inside, a large blanket was thrown over it hiding it as it sat in the middle of the room. People were already inside, gathering and chatting as they walked in. Her father pushed her strawberry colored hair out of her face as they walked in and he moved to greet some friends. "Come here Ivora, meet some old friends of mine." She smiled lightly as he dragged her over, he was dressed so formally, everyone was, except her of course who had dressed in such a casual manner. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse my daughter. She has her mother's heart." The couple laughed as they looked at the young girl who wasn't paying much attention. Her father tried to grab her to join the conversation but Ivora held no interest. "When do we unveil our masterpiece?" She asked looked at her father who smiled down at the young woman who only stood at 5'3. "When the boy comes out for his birthday celebration of course!"