dreamingflowers

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

I'll have her bump into Terryn and she'll also meet Saewine if they're still in the same place. That should be fun since she wanted to avoid Terryn.

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

Mmmh I'm not sure where to go with Floure. Anyone have any suggestions?
Im trying to cook up a post.

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

You would have to point that out for me because that obviously was not intentional.

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

Another disney fan awesome :)

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

Beautiful dress!! I would wear that definately! :)
I had to include it in my post, even if it's a tiny mention. Too fab to pass up XD

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

Floure

"Come one, come all!"
"Hurry hurry here's your chance, see the mystery and romance"
The excited voice of the announcer sounded through the feasting hall. He was standing on a raised platform in the middle of the hall, ensuring the royal couple had the best view. The man was dressed in a fine suit of green velvet with gold trimmings. On his face he wore an elaborate mask of gold lace and flowing peacock feathers. The crowd was beginning to gather around the stage whispering excitedly as they pointed towards the stage and the announcer. The man praised his first act very highly but there was no one to be seen anywhere on or near the stage. The announcer was the only one there and some of the guests glanced around, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of this elusive dancer yet to no avail. It was indeed strange and the crowd had no choice but to patiently await the start of the act.

"Come one, come all!"
"See the finest girl in dance, make an entrance to entrance"
Floure was waiting in the wings underneath the stage, in a small hidden compartment listening to the words of the announcer. He had her change into a different dress, a gown more suited for the noble audience for whom she would be performing. The garments she'd been wearing were deemed inappropriate. She didn't like them calling her most beautiful garments unsuited, which just meant they were ugly. The announcer Frederick had told her the way she dressed was much too revealing and would draw the wrong kind of attention. Strange considering the gown she was wearing now covered not an inch of her arms. It was beautiful there was no denying that. It was probably the most expensive piece of clothing she'd ever touched or worn in her entire life. There feel of the fabric on her skin was velvety soft. It wrapped around her left shoulder in elegant folds of sparkling midnight blue fabric. Around her waist was a corset not made of leather but a sheer silver fabric, much stronger than it appeared cinching in her waist nicely. The same sparkling fabric was tied around her waist in a voluminous bow, the ends trailing down over the bottom of the dress. A wide skirt of silver folds, covered in countless hand sown black lace butterflies.

He had her wear a very clumsy pair of slippers in which she could barely move, due to the high heels. Floure wasn't quite sure what kind of dance he was expecting from her, but these shoes had to go. Frederick continued to excite the crowd which gave Floure some time to make the necessary adjustments. She took off the priceless pair of slippers and instead put on her jeweled anklets which had bells on them. These were the anklets she'd worn every day when she was taught to dance. They were her lucky charms and made every performance one to remember. She adjusted the tambourine at her waist to make sure the knot wouldn't come loose just yet. She took a deep breath and relaxed her mind, not entirely different to her preparation before fortune telling. After that the young woman stepped on the wooden lift which would carry her up to the platform to make her grand entrance.
"Wish me luck grandmother" She whispered under her breath as her fingers passed a small silver ring on her little finger.

"Dance my desert rose! now.....DANCE!" Frederick cried out in blissful excitement which was followed by him throwing something onto the floor creating a flash of light and colored smoke. When the smoke cleared the announcer and the dancer had switched places as if by magic, as Frederick had now disappeared, yet nobody had seen him walk away. The fiddler began his tune and Floure followed his every play.

Song

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqOkRo5lEwU

She felt alive and free, with only the fiddle as her company. Floure tapped the tambourine against her hip and played along with the fiddler, urging him to up his tempo. Her feet fell into the familiar steps of the Traveler dance, the way she moved was both elegant and seductive, a strangely alluring combination. She took out the red ribbon adorning her hair, which was meant to keep it tied up neatly. Floure hated the constricted feeling of having her hair tied in that way, especially when she was dancing. Frederick who was standing at the edge of the stage did not seem amused by what she was doing. He tapped his foot on the ground in an irritated fashion, his expression heavily annoyed.

Her dance was at times fast and exciting before melting into a slower more enthralling performance, in which she aimed more for seduction, drawing the eye to where she wanted it. The young woman lowered herself to the floor laying down on the stage, the gown fanning about her like a flower. She playfully winked at the audience, smiling mischievously at the people who were watching her with wide eyes.
Oh how she loved to dance.

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

I changed the start of my post so many times that it's still not finished. I think I ran out of writing juice for today XD
Tomorrow evening I'll have plenty of time to continue writing and finish the scene ;)

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

I'll post tomorrow if that's okay ;)
Since I'm the life of the party sort to speak. XD
Going to have to think of a way to set up the dance scene though. I want it to be good ^.^

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

@Kho Never too late to join in, Hope you have fun! ^.^

So first Terryn and now we also have one of the Servants join the ranks. Floure's going to be toast XD

Marches of Man: the Black Shields. [ALWAYS OPEN]

Floure

Floure ran swiftly through the courtyard of the Black Shields barracks, trying to evade the rain which came pouring out of the sky. She had covered herself in a shawl in an effort to keep her face and hair free of the rain and ruin all the work she'd put into her looks. The fact that she was going to be late along with the steady downfall made her speed past all of the recruits in a hurry, ignoring their teasing whistles. Her feet barely touched the ground and she tried to avoid any puddles in her path. This morning she had overheard somebody say they needed another performer for the coming feast, one of the scheduled dancers was no longer able to perform. Granted she had been eavesdropping when she heard this and the fact that the dancer would not be able to attend was mostly her doing. The combination of too much wine and pleasant company was too much for the young man to handle. He was probably still snoring in his tent.

Well you snooze you lose. She smiled smugly and continued on her way. The keep was located on a large hill at the edge of the sea, on the opposite end there was the cliff where the town was located. All that stood between these two was a great drawbridge on which she was now standing. Her smile had quickly disappeared when she realized she needed to cross the bridge to reach the keep. Floure was terrified of the sea. She could hear the water churning beneath her and it sent shivers down her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Too scared to run the young woman had no choice but to walk carefully, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the keep. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest and she could almost hear it beat over the sounds of the wind and rain.

Now was probably a good time to pray, she didn't want to be taken by the sea. That would be a horrible way to die. So the young woman clasped her trembling hands together as she walked, whispering prayers in a frightened voice. As she continued to pray and walk she reached for her purse taking out a single silver coin. She stopped for a moment so she could throw the piece of silver into the water, not taking her eyes of the keep doors even as she did so. Hopefully the lady of the sea would be appeased and she prayed with all her vigor for a safe passing.

When she reached the gates she saw a growing crowd of people gathering there. They exited their carriages dressed in expensive finery and priceless jewelry. If she wasn't in such a hurry Floure would have tried perform the Huckeny Boro. These were the kind of people she loved to relieve of their money. They had plenty of it anyway, what harm would it do if she took some of it?

Ideally for the trick to be successful she would need the help of a brother or sister. All Travelers knew this this trick and most only used it when they knew the caravan would be leaving in the next day because you needed to be far far away from the house you performed it in. Her grandmother had taught her a very particular way of performing the Huckeny Boro. She needed to get into the house of a noble lady or otherwise wealthy woman and earn her trust usually by selling cheap wares but mainly though fortune telling. She would proceed to convince this woman to lay aside some small amount of money along with the most expensive piece of jewelry the family owned. A ritual would then be performed to appease the spirits of the house and double the amount of money offered in seven days. It was stressed the woman should not disturb the bag during these seven days. The small bag which contained the offering of money and jewels would be switched with a identical bag containing straw and scrap metal. It never failed her before and it was the thrill that made her keep using it, that and the riches she acquired of course.

With a last wistful look in the direction of the nobles she slipped past the crowd and into the Hoffburgt keep. Once inside she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The young woman felt like she had just swam through the ocean instead of crossing it by bridge. The keep was enormous, the largest castle she had ever seen or entered. Floure slowly walked into the hallway, removing her shawl. She let her eyes wander around, taking in the sights in front of her. The hallways went on endlessly and she could not see the doors leading to the next one. Paintings the size of a small bedroom wall lined the walls, expensive curtains of flowing velvet in rich colors. What a waste of good fabric, if it were up to Floure she would make a skirt out of that velvet, instead of hanging it on the walls to gather dust. Small groups of fancy dressed visitors were admiring the decorations of the keep, most of which were priceless and one of a kind. It was a complete change from the stark and cold outward appearance of the castle.

As she walked she attempted to find the feasting hall, the location where she would be performing. She passed multiple doors until she came to a large door, different to the previous ones she'd come across. It looked more grand, its inside was probably equally as grand. It stood halfway open too and people were slowly entering one after the other at a leisurely pace. It seemed like the feast hadn't started yet, so perhaps she wasn't all that late after all. She followed suit behind a young couple and made her way into the feasting hall. The feasting hall was as impressive as the hallway even more so and the young woman never ceased to be amazed at the riches of the nobles, knowing there were people who didn't even have enough food to feed their children. The difference between the rich and poor made her sick to the stomach and she wondered what she had done to deserve to be in a place like this.

After a while she came across a full length mirror with a golden frame, probably placed there for the guests to tidy up and the ladies to powder their noses. How convenient Floure mused to herself with a happy smile. She checked her reflection and was appalled by it, the coal around her eyes had smeared slightly due to the rain and her curls were windblown into every which way. She gently wiped away the smudged make up under her eyes with the tip of her scarf. She used a little more coal to touch up and stained her lips pink using a colored powder. When that was done she began to finger comb her long curls, rearranging them to frame her face and fall down her back and shoulders. The young woman was completely absorbed into the tidying of her appearance and for a moment forgot about her surroundings.