Post by ascot on Jan 28, 2014 21:49:29 GMT -5
Rachel found it difficult to get out of her bed.
She made a few attempts to wake up, only to immediately roll back onto her side, locked in a pleasant slumber. The sunlight bled into her room in a single unbroken beam, a golden track that peered through the break in her curtains. She pressed her face into the pillow, humming contently as she did. The hustle and bustle of Daversdale seemed so oddly distant in the confines of her own head, at least until a loud hoot woke her up.
"Samson?" She mumbled, her brown eyes struggling open, before she got to the window. The huge elephant was standing by her window, looking expectant and irritated, something that confused the queen. "It can't be breakfast yet, it's only..." She began to protest, until she looked to the town clock in the far distance. "... one. Huh, guess it's lunch instead." Rachel remarked apologetically. She went away from the window, now preparing herself for the day. Her bedroom was not particularly royal, but it was homely; made of a dark red wood and lacking in many windows, filled with a warming darkness that could put one to sleep even in the middle of the day. It could barely hold her large bed, which luckily was the only thing in the room, besides a table that held a few books. It was one of two rooms perched on top of what once was the Tangerine and Orange bar, the bar her mother had ran. Rachel went to the second of these rooms, which could be described as a miscellaneous room; it was filled to the brim with clothes, books and just about everything she had as a possession. As quick as a flash, she had grabbed her tunic and some jewelry, before rushing downstairs into her own private kitchen. It was quite large, having once been the beer storage, but seeing as she had her own tavern that she ran Rachel made it into a kitchen of her own, with a stone floor and several stoves. Sometimes, if she was hosting something important, she would bring in chefs to do all her cooking in here, but as she detested cooking she rarely used it as such. Instead, it was her personal cleaning room; after all, a stone floor just let the water flow away. She clumsily poured a jug of water over her head and scrubbed in some soap before doing it all again. Using one of the nearest rags, she dried herself as best as she could before she grabbed a bag of peanuts and walked into the final room of her house; the throne room.
Having once been the bar itself, Rachel had cleared it out, and thus it was quite surprising just how big it was. Empty, but big. A large ornate chair sat at the head of the room, directly opposite the door, and two tables to each side of the room, but otherwise empty. Etchings dug into the wooden wall all around told stories of heroes and dragons and princesses and witches and dwarves and even more dragons and stars. It was both grand but humble, something that was impressive so far as Daversdale was concerned but other royalty would probably sniff at. Rachel rushed through this area, putting on her clothes as she did, before she opened the wide double doors to greet the world...
"I should go get breakfast from somewhere that serves vodka," she announced, before hearing a familiar 'STOMP STOMP STOMP'. The Queen of Daversdale giggled as her lumbering pet blocked the road just to nuzzle her with his trunk. Handing him both breakfast and lunch (peanuts a la peanuts, followed by peanuts cru), she planted her hands on his rough skin and scrambled atop of her huge pet beast. It wasn't subtle, but it was certainly her favourite mode of transport. Patting Samson on the head, the great grey beast moved backwards a little, closing the door to Rachel's house, before walking off in the direction his mistress pointed in, whether or not something was in his way, the ground shaking with every step and stones rattling across the cobbled streets of Daversdale.
She made a few attempts to wake up, only to immediately roll back onto her side, locked in a pleasant slumber. The sunlight bled into her room in a single unbroken beam, a golden track that peered through the break in her curtains. She pressed her face into the pillow, humming contently as she did. The hustle and bustle of Daversdale seemed so oddly distant in the confines of her own head, at least until a loud hoot woke her up.
"Samson?" She mumbled, her brown eyes struggling open, before she got to the window. The huge elephant was standing by her window, looking expectant and irritated, something that confused the queen. "It can't be breakfast yet, it's only..." She began to protest, until she looked to the town clock in the far distance. "... one. Huh, guess it's lunch instead." Rachel remarked apologetically. She went away from the window, now preparing herself for the day. Her bedroom was not particularly royal, but it was homely; made of a dark red wood and lacking in many windows, filled with a warming darkness that could put one to sleep even in the middle of the day. It could barely hold her large bed, which luckily was the only thing in the room, besides a table that held a few books. It was one of two rooms perched on top of what once was the Tangerine and Orange bar, the bar her mother had ran. Rachel went to the second of these rooms, which could be described as a miscellaneous room; it was filled to the brim with clothes, books and just about everything she had as a possession. As quick as a flash, she had grabbed her tunic and some jewelry, before rushing downstairs into her own private kitchen. It was quite large, having once been the beer storage, but seeing as she had her own tavern that she ran Rachel made it into a kitchen of her own, with a stone floor and several stoves. Sometimes, if she was hosting something important, she would bring in chefs to do all her cooking in here, but as she detested cooking she rarely used it as such. Instead, it was her personal cleaning room; after all, a stone floor just let the water flow away. She clumsily poured a jug of water over her head and scrubbed in some soap before doing it all again. Using one of the nearest rags, she dried herself as best as she could before she grabbed a bag of peanuts and walked into the final room of her house; the throne room.
Having once been the bar itself, Rachel had cleared it out, and thus it was quite surprising just how big it was. Empty, but big. A large ornate chair sat at the head of the room, directly opposite the door, and two tables to each side of the room, but otherwise empty. Etchings dug into the wooden wall all around told stories of heroes and dragons and princesses and witches and dwarves and even more dragons and stars. It was both grand but humble, something that was impressive so far as Daversdale was concerned but other royalty would probably sniff at. Rachel rushed through this area, putting on her clothes as she did, before she opened the wide double doors to greet the world...
"I should go get breakfast from somewhere that serves vodka," she announced, before hearing a familiar 'STOMP STOMP STOMP'. The Queen of Daversdale giggled as her lumbering pet blocked the road just to nuzzle her with his trunk. Handing him both breakfast and lunch (peanuts a la peanuts, followed by peanuts cru), she planted her hands on his rough skin and scrambled atop of her huge pet beast. It wasn't subtle, but it was certainly her favourite mode of transport. Patting Samson on the head, the great grey beast moved backwards a little, closing the door to Rachel's house, before walking off in the direction his mistress pointed in, whether or not something was in his way, the ground shaking with every step and stones rattling across the cobbled streets of Daversdale.