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Post by Gloria. on Aug 22, 2012 18:31:35 GMT -5
May 16th, 1777; 10:00 PM
Scrub. Wash. Squeeze. Adeola was elbow deep into thHe sud filled water by the time she was done. Her shirt was a bit baggy and painted her sleeves in a darker shade of brown once she was through, "All done." she cooed, gathering a new blanket and a small child in her arms, as well. The little girl in her arms, known as Emily, was the youngest child of a British couple that she was currently indebted to as a maid. Now, while she did sometimes wash and cook, her occupation was more involved into keeping the youngest one occupied.
"Miss Lilly, can you tell me the story about the rabbit and the bear?"
"I can't right now, love. You need ta' sleep. Yah ma and da' gave me dat order." Emily was being a little fussy, to Adeola's dismay. To be honest, while she didn't like much white people, she did love this child to bits and treated her as if she were her own these past few weeks.
So you'd understand how it'd was for her to leave the Emily behind.
"Fine." she huffed after pulling the girl's night clothes over her head. "One last story abou' brother bear and brother rabbit and it's off to bed, ya' hear?"
So, after they said some prayers, Adeola, now known as Lilly, told the tale of Brother Bear and Brother Rabbit and how they tricked Brother Fox from another meal. "All right, honey. Now it's bed time. And don't give me dat face!" Emily quickly wiped the fake frown from her lips and grinned, right before she settled a small kiss on her caretaker's cheek.
"Now, what was that for, child?" Adeola laughed, "Because I love you, Ms. Lilly." the little girl chirruped as she bundled herself underneath her bedsheets. "And when you love someone, you show it."
Oh boy, there goes that guilty feeling again. "And I love ya' too, Emmy." Closing the girl's door behind her, she sighed. She needed to act quickly.
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May 17th, 1777; 12:50 am
She only took the essentials. A few outfits and some shoes and all of the money she's saved up for this occasion. As much as she loved that little girl, she loved her freedom more, for this was the life of a runaway.
She ran out of the room she shared with the other nannies, and into the kitchen. Once inside, she slipped from the back door and into the cool, spring night.
The forest that led from the country home was a dark one, but running in the night was much more preferred than the day.
It was just a shame that it was less safe. Then again, was life ever really safe for a black person at this time? She took one last step into the dark and she was gone.
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Post by Chørd on Aug 23, 2012 17:36:15 GMT -5
It was more of a spur of the moment thing than anything. After a long day's march, with his feet aching and shoes falling off around them, James had had enough. More than enough. Having to listen to the sergeants and corporals bellowing at the men left, right and centre, and the officers laughing away to themselves in the home comforts of their own cosy tents, James had decided today would be the day he ran.
He acted as normal until evening; he had a drink with his messmates, told and listened to stories, ate what little rations they had and scowled at his step father and mother whenever they appeared. They spent more time together now, often shunning him away. Some of the soldiers teased him that it was because Corporal Dunnett wanted to give James's mother a bloated belly, and he could hardly do that with the lad's prying eyes looking on.
That had been the main driving forces behind him leaving. The rest had been pure impulse. Everyone was exhausted from the marching, but also on edge. Things were tense in the colonies, and there was a lot of talk. People were so busy discussing the ongoings of the world, sometimes, that they often missed what was going on under their noses. Normally this would be the time James would take to stealing, but this time he had bigger plans.
The army expected a soldier to leave behind his essentials: it would make him a faster runner with less weight, and he'd draw less attention to himself. But James took everything he had with him. His musket, his knapsack, a few coins he'd stolen, some stale, mouldy food. He even kept his tattered shoes on his feet. The only thing he'd left behind was his leather cap. He'd hidden his belongings somewhere safe when no one was looking, then later on in the evening as everyone was getting drowsy and drifting to their tents, he'd snuck out to "relieve himself", grabbed his things, and left.
He'd walked at first, calmly, as if nothing was the matter at all. He shed his coat first, rolling it up and stuffing it into a bush. His shoes were next, stuffed inside each other and thrown up into a hole in the tree a way away from where he'd hidden his previous item. Then went his stockings, scuffed to pieces in the dirt and left there. What little edible food he had left in his pack he ate as he walked, until he came to open fields and farmland. His pack was stuffed into a lonesome building - some sort of shed, outhouse or cellar - and his musket was left there too.
He continued walking on, almost at a comical leisurely pace, until he reached a river. The remaining weapons he had on him were thrown into the waters, all apart from his knife, and he stood and waited for the items to sink to the bottom of the riverbed out of sight before moving on. His knife was stuck into the belt about his torso. Once he was certain he'd gotten rid of all he could, and should, he began to ran. He dodged harsh terrain at first, his feet throbbing with every sharp stone he ran across, but soon he began to disregard the well-being of his toes in favour of finding shelter and a change of clothes quickly, before someone was sent out looking for him.
Having exhausted himself, and having decided he'd put enough distance and time between himself and the army for now, James slumped down against a tree in the forest surrounding a country home to catch his breath, reaching for the knife in his belt as he did so. It was sharp enough, and he kept the edge well-honed, but even so as he slid it against the top of the que at the back of his head it took a great deal of sawing to cut off the matted tangle of wax, leather, powder and hair. It was part relief and part sadness when the stub was finally off and his remaining short, choppy, greasy hair fell down in front of his face, but it was yet another sign of the army he'd have to get rid of.
With his nerves on edge, it took all his self restraint not to stab his knife into the guts of whoever was out wandering in the dark. They'd taken him by surprise, and for a moment he couldn't see them, until he squinted and realised it was a black woman, who couldn't be that much older than he was.
"What do you want?" He hissed under his breath. Something told James that, like him, she wasn't supposed to be here, so he kept his voice hushed and his senses alert.
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(OOC: OMG massive bulk of text I'm sorry. I got carried away lol.)
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Post by Gloria. on Aug 29, 2012 15:51:00 GMT -5
Her face twisted into a look of confusion and annoyance. What did he mean by, What do you want? She wasn't there for any white man's war. And she certainly wasn't there for any white man to come up to her in that way. Stomping her feet and assuming a larger than life posture, she looked at him square in his eyes and said, "What makes ya' tink I'm here for ya', boy?"
She was pissed. Mostly about being caught and less about talking to him. But he did seem to be someone who would work her nerves so she felt justified in her answer.
She circled him, "Besides... it looks like ya ain't supposed t' be here, either..."
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Post by Chørd on Aug 30, 2012 3:16:04 GMT -5
Whoever this girl was, she didn't seem best pleased to have stumbled across him. He wasn't exactly overjoyed to have bumped into her, either, so at least the apparent feeling of annoyance was mutual.
As she stomped her feet James jumped backwards away from her, remaining in his crouching position and holding his knife out in front of him to defend himself should she decide to try and hit him.
"I don' wan' any trouble now, y'hear? So you jus' get on back from where yuh came from an' leave me'be." He eyed her up suspiciously as he spoke. You couldn't trust anyone nowadays. Someone you thought was on your side would turn you in for a few pennies, and wouldn't so much as bat an eyelid at doing so - he should know, he'd done it to a fair few of his fellow soldiers. This girl could play whatever game she liked - if she tried to take him and sell him back to the army, he'd stab her.
Her circling him made him nervous, and he followed her every move with his eyes, turning so that he was always facing her, his knife gripped tightly in his sweaty fist as he did so.
"I ain't. But you'll keep yer pretty l'il mouth shut 'bout it or I'll shut it for ya, arrigh?" His tone was sharp and snappy, and he glared at her furiously. It was just his luck to be caught this early on, wasn't it?
Once he was sure she wasn't going to hurt him he straightened up, slid his knife back into his belt and held out his hand for her to shake. "Well if you ain't meant t'be 'ere, I guess tha' makes us two of a kind, eh?" He tried to sound and look as friendly as he could, but his nervousness probably showed on his face. "Can't give yuh me name, jus' in case, bu' t'is nice t'meet yuh all the same."
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Post by Gloria. on Sept 5, 2012 0:30:34 GMT -5
Hm. He didn't seem so bad. Besides the white part, of course. If anything, he was as scared as she was. Possibly, even more? Whatever was plaguing the boy (she didn't feel too good about calling him a man, just yet), had to be something dire. But when he asked her for her name she was a little surprised.
Not many stopped to even give her a second glance, so she hesitated.
"Ah, tell me yours, first." she swallowed, and straightened her neck to imitate some of the rich ladies she worked for. "It's too forward ta ask a lady her name like dat."
She took this chance to wipe her brow of some sweat she had accumulated from the spring heat. Good Lord, it was going to be a hot summer. "Sorry fer bein' rude, earlier." she quickly clamped her mouth shut, a bit surprised by her own actions.
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Post by Chørd on Sept 9, 2012 16:25:18 GMT -5
James couldn't help but roll his eyes when she tried to adopt some sort of authoritative stance. Honestly, she was going to try and play at that? She was a slave and he was a deserting gutter-rat soldier. There was no point in them pretending to be something they weren't.
"I ain't askin' fer yer name, lady, an' I ain't tellin' you mine," he snapped irritably. Why was he still talking to her? There could be men out looking for him right now, and this wench certainly didn't seem the sort to help him out if the provosts showed their ugly faces.
When she apologised for her rudeness earlier he looked a little surprised, before giving her a shy smile. "S'alright. Compared t' the way people normally speak t'me, you've bin migh'y polite."
Maybe giving her his name wouldn't be so bad after all. She didn't seem to have the slightest inclination who - or what - he was, so where was the harm in telling her his name? There were several other lads around called James, so even if a notice was put up for him, something as trivial as his name wasn't likely to give him away straight off.
"James," he said nervously, "but you c'n call me Jemmy."
He sheathed his blade in his belt then, wiping at his sweaty brow with his shirt and sniffing as he rolled up the sleeves and unfastened the front a little to try and cool himself off. "Well if it's all the same t'you, I need to get goin'. Hangin' around 'ere fer too long ain't goin' to favour me chances. If yuh want, we c'n go together. Two pairs o' eyes are be'er than one if yer on the run."
That was assuming, of course, that she was on the run. But why else would a black girl be out, all edgy and suspicious, if she wasn't making a bid for freedom? James hadn't heard of free blacks before, so he doubted she could possibly be one, and he also doubted her masters would have sent her out at this hour to perform chores.
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Post by faithfulguardian on Sept 10, 2012 15:49:35 GMT -5
Will had been tramping through the trees for a good hour now, searching out all his remaining traps and snares. he already had a pair of rabbits which he planned to make his dinner and breakfast the next day, as well as three smallish raccoons. all of these were tied to two end of a staff he carried across his shoulders. it was a ways up the river before he reached the border of Upper Canada again and home, so he had stopped his canoe to stock up on supplies here. the skin had begun to be rubbed raw under the stick and so he had stopped to remove his shirt and use it as a cushion, he wiped the sweat off his forehead and replaced his waistcoat before moving on to his last trap. he had never been good at tracking prints themselves, but having been blessed with a very good memory for sights and a nose for direction, he was able to find the path he had used two days ago with no trouble. moving through the bushes at a side walk, he didn't hear the other people in the forest until it was too late and he had stepped into the small clearing where they stood frozen. "Oh!" he exclaimed, dropping his burden in surprise. his mouth made odd fish-like movements as he searched for words to say to the older man and the coloured girl. I'm sorry...am I interrupting something?" he asked politely. ~~~~~~~~~~ OOC: oops! the Canadian stumbles in on a party! so sorry!  |
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