• What Would Daddy Say?

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    February 20, 2012 /  Here & Now, Memories
    “JULES! Enough with the Arien moping around.” I can already hear His voice in my head, usually when I close my eyes and attempt to find the elusive sleep that insomnia always manages to keep away.

    It is in times like this, I really need to give myself a good kick up the ass and focus on: “What would Daddy say?” and less upon “Look at poor ol’ me. Nothing I do makes a difference. Nothing will ever change.”

    So really. What would the Red Claw say?

    “NEVER forget who you are.”
    “NEVER forget where you’ve come”
    “NEVER forget what you have become.”

    “Scarlet dear.” He always liked to call me Scarlet; a pet name he had for me since I came into his care when my age reached double digits. “They cannot take that away from you, it is carved into you as surely as the Red Claw on your spine. So take that Arien spine and use it.”

    “And NEVER fucking give up.” This would of probably been accompanied by a solid wallop around the ears with the flat side of the training blade. Mind you, we didn’t use wood, only steel for His. But the blades were blunted. And wounds were… well not rare, but they healed quick enough. And you bloody well learned how to dodge a steel blade much quicker than a wooden one I’ll tell you now!

    I wonder, can you even imagine me as I was back then? A little girl, with a head of unruly black curls, thin as a rake and as wild as they come. Well, when I put it like that, perhaps it isn’t so hard to imagine. Wild. That might of been an under-exageration. So, I was indulged and spoiled. Sue me.

    See, my Mother had died three months earlier (poisoning – see, I bet you always wondered why I test everything I eat!), and me, being the smart little kid that I was, decided that the last thing I wanted was to be hauled off to some orphanage.

    So, of course, like any rag-tag miscreant, I joined the streets. Rarely even stepping from the shadows to steal, I hunted amongst the bins at the sides of the taverns at night. Little more than an animal and living off the off-cuts of society. I learned to not be noticed, not be seen.

    And it took Him a season to find me. Just as the leaves had fallen from the trees, and Winter was beginning to set in. Just when food had become scarce and it was difficult to even find the energy to hunt amongst the rubbish for my next meal, I was hauled out of the barrel I had been using that night to sleep in, and given a pretty good shake down. Would you believe I was wearing a dress? I know. Hard to imagine right?

    I wasn’t to know this till much later, but the Red Claw had put a rather hefty price on my head. He owed my Mother for what she did and in return for years of service that ended so finally with her death, he had assured her that I would always be taken care of. He always keeps his word. His real word, the ones he swears in blood, not the lies that fall off his tongue from day to day.

    Apparently I had been careless and one of the serving wenches/whores had spotted me earlier that evening and had filed a report. I was so close to the age and description that Red Claw had, he’d come out to find me himself.

    So here I was, held up by the scruff of my ragged dress, squirming, punching, thin legs flying and doing really … well no damage at all. My big fight was completely ineffectual as I came face to face with the man who would become my Father, my Trainer, my Boss and my Inspiration.

    Feel it coming in the air
    Hear the screams from everywhere
    I’m addicted to the thrill
    It’s a dangerous love affair
    Can’t be scared when it goes down
    Got a problem, tell me now
    Only thing that’s on my mind
    Is who’s gonna run this town tonight…
    I’m gonna run this town

  • Little Bird

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    January 31, 2012 /  Memories

    How much a day changes? Everything.

    Ten years ago.

    My Mother was a whore of some renown in Tubor, graced with beauty it was said her gaze alone could stop any man in the street. It is was also said I took after her, but I do not see it. I have never had her effect on men. In fact, it has always been quite the opposite. Perhaps this is why I take such offence when I find that term directed my way. Offence. Understatement. My blood boils.

    With large blue eyes that are still full innocent and a head full of curls, my brother was doted on by everyone in the block. Spoiled. Most definitely, it was rare that a day went by without some passing merchant or client didn’t drop off a sugar-sweet for him. Whilst I was full of mischief and always causing no end of trouble for my Mother, he was so good and sweet. And somehow, I never hated him for it. We were just always so different.

    My Mother had a very select list of clientèle who were willing to pay a substantial sum of money for her services. Nobles from abroad. Gentry sometimes. The Red Claw was always very selective as to who he allowed to see her. None-the-less, we lived a good, if somewhat, unusual life, my brother and I. We were educated and I had just started learning to read. Some of my Mother’s more preferred clients took to me and offered me lessons in the Lithmorran tongue. Looking back on it now, perhaps I was being groomed.

    One such day I was reading in the library. I was meant to be looking after my brother but instead I had become engrossed in a new book. My Mother with a new client that she had reluctantly taken on – she rarely took on anyone new people these days. Finding my attention lacking, he wandered off and ran to him on the stairway.

    The Noble was drunk. I think. And he took insult in something my Brother said. Not the right title, or not enough bowing. I don’t know what the fuck it was. But what ever imagined slight he saw resulted in him giving my Brother a smack across the head. Hard enough that he went flying… down the stairs. I flew at the Noble, enraged. I remember getting smacked and the rest of the night, well it was a blur.

    He never opened his eyes again.

     

    And neither did my Brother.