Author Topic: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..  (Read 3221 times)

sinnocent

  • Guest
sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« on: September 15, 2008, 01:41:43 PM »
sin hopes this is ok.. to keep this lil place for herself.. like a treasure chest of things...nothing hidden.. just things.. chores.. feelings... a place where if someone peeks. they can see her.. know her.. feel her... but mainly.... so she can look back and remember...sin spends many hours sometimes choring.. and things.. and sometimes they are never seen.. and disappear into cyber space.. never more to remembered....the good.. the bad.. and the ugly.... all help sin remember.. and learn.. and grow....

if Master will allow sin this lil place...




sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #1 on: September 15, 2008, 01:42:53 PM »
The Paga Wagon


(14:09:43 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in/at the paga wagon
says to ALL
: rising she slipped away from the kennel wagon and moved off towards the paga wagon.. unsure when last time stock was rotated and shelves dusted.. first on agenda today.. because.. well she felt like it... the winsome creature sauntered silken flesh across the camp.. and entered into the wagon ducking past the flap.. and looked around.. the rows and rows of shelves and casks.. meeting her gaze

(14:13:42 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in/at the paga wagon
says to ALL
: seeing task at hand she worried bottom lip... sweetly curved bottom swaying as she moved along the rows... the lift of delicate chin bringing her face upwards to the higher rows....she smiled as she hauled to the back and grabbed dusting rags and broom.. and padded back to the front easily... leaning her head out she called a couple thralls over and returned inside.. directing them to pull the top kegs... watching them she grinned and then carefully she slipped onto one's shoulders with rag in hand and dusted along the top shelf... humming and coughing as dust was flying...

(14:23:37 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in/at the paga wagon
says to ALL
: as she moved along dusting.. she directed the thrall to pull from the back room and load the top shelves... slipping from the thralls shoulders.. she watched as the next row was emptied.. and she began dusting.... the row from the top was placed on the newly emptied shelf.. and she went on... thralls removing, her dusting.. them replacing.. till one line of casks remained.. she dusted these well.. and with the aid of the thralls.. saw that they were transported to the commissary wagon to be used next...

(14:26:38 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in/at the paga wagon
says to ALL
: returning she grabbed the broom and starting at the rare.. she swept... humming as she moved... the beast waltzed over the floor with her would be partner ensuring every corner was dirt free and clean... under the shelves ...around the tables... along the counters.. not a place was missed as she finally made the flap.. and from the outside she was sure.. the poofs of dirt could be seen as she swept them all out.. before moving onto the porch and sweeping it free of dirt as well


(14:30:12 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in/at the paga wagon
says to ALL
: returning the broom she grabbed oil and rag.. and went back to the main storage area...and began oiling all the wood..not one crook and crany was spared sin's polishing wraith... along the counters, shelves.. walls.. she oiled... before replacing her stuff and leaving the paga wagon alone.... moving off to find something else to be useful


sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #2 on: September 15, 2008, 01:53:26 PM »
sins Quote and word of the day.... cause well.. she loves knowledge

Quote
The quickest way of ending a war is to lose it.
George Orwell (1903 - 1950)

suffuse \suh-FYOOZ\, transitive verb:
To spread through or over in the manner of fluid or light; to flush.

She gave a long slow look, as if she were deciding something, and then she allowed herself to blush, the color suffusing her throat in a delicious mottle of pink and white.

sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #3 on: September 15, 2008, 02:27:55 PM »
:::: some favorite Gorean quotes ::::
|||||||Disclaimer|||||||
~attention to any whom may read these.. these are my fav's for my personal reasons.. past, present and future related.. not meant to offend.. anyone.. and not directed at anyone..~

**I moaned. I did not want polite love. I wanted to know that I was in the hands of a man who was capable of being excited, and who I excited, who found me truly marvelous, to whose fury of power I appeared whose fierce and voracious appetites I triggered. I wanted to be in the arms of a true man. I did not want to be possibly mistaken about whether I had been had or not. I did not want to be touched as though I might break. I did not wish to be in danger of drowsing off during the making of love. I wanted him to own and master me, and whip me if I was not pleasing.
Dancer of Gor, page 250** one of my most favorite -wiggles brows-

Many Gorean men, in their vanity, will not admit to caring for slaves. Even the thought of it, it seems, would embarrass them. Who could care for a meaningless slut in a collar? Yet, too often, for just such women, luscious and helpless, and in bondage, men are prepared to kill. Indeed, more than one war on Gor has been fought to recover a single slave.
Dancer of Gor, page 421

...nothing fulfills maleness like the mastery. He who would be a man, must be a master. He who surrenders his mastery, surrenders his manhood.
Players of Gor, page 176

In denying it we deny our nature. In betraying it we betray no one but ourselves. The master will never be happy until he is a master. The slave will never be happy until she is a slave. It is what we are."
Explorers of Gor, page 159

"Goreans are not men of Earth," I said. "They will have what they truly want from a woman, everything."
Beasts of Gor, page 230

"It is one thing to own a woman," I said, "and it is another to have her within the bonds of an excellent mastery."
Magicians of Gor, page 465

He looked on her, intently. He studied her. He gave her great attention. She turned her head to one side, her wrists secured in many turns of the binding fiber, her fists clenched. I knew that on earth many men did not even know their wives. They did not truely look upon them. Never, truly, had they seen them. But a Gorean master will know every inch, and care for every inch, of one of his slave girls. He will know every hair, every sweet blemish of her. In a way she is nothing to him, for she is only a slave. But in another way she is very important to him. She is one of his women. He will know her. He will want to know her completely, every inch of her body, every inch of her mind. Nothing less will satisfy him. She is his property. He will choose to know his property thoroughly.
Hunters of Gor, page 145

What he said did not surprise me. The Gorean Master, commonly, likes a spirited girl, one who fights the whip and collar, resisting until the last, perhaps months later, she is overwhelmed and must acknowledge herself his, utterly and without reservation, then fearing only that he might tire of her and sell her to another.
Nomads of Gor, page 29

Gorean men have a way of looking at a woman which is like stripping them and putting them to their feet.
Slave Girl of Gor, page 267

"But what if he is weak?" she begged. "Continue to serve him, in the fullness of your slavery, begging him for the least of his kisses, the most casual of his caresses." "Yes, master," she said, tears in her eyes. "Even such small attentions, you will discover, now that you have become sensitized to your slavery, will be precious to you."  "But what if he is stupid?" she asked. "Beg him to sell you, or give you away," I said, "that you may, if only in being sold off on the block, come into the collar of another, one capable of satisfying what you are, a slave."  "But what if he will not sell me, or give me away?" she said. "Then," said I angrily,"that is how it will be, for it is you who wear the collar. He is the master. You are the slave."
Magicians of Gor, page 233

Do not ask the stones or the trees how to live, they can not tell you; they do not have tongues; do not ask the wise man how to live for, if he knows, he will know he cannot tell you; if you would learn how to live, do not ask the question; its answer is not in the question but in the answer, which is not in words; do not ask how to live, but, instead, proceed to do so.
Marauders of Gor, page 9

In the end, few things are real, perhaps the weight and glitter of gold, the movement and nature of weapons, a slave at one's feet, and too, perhaps, in spite of all, if we will have it so, defiance, honour, responsibility, courage, discipline, such things, such baubles, such treasures.
Magicians of Gor, page 208

It is hard for a man to be great who does not have great enemies.
Magicians of Gor, page 183

Let those who can climb mountains climb them; let those who cannot climb them console themselves with denying their existence.
Rogue of Gor, page ??

Goreans care for their world. They love the sky, the plains, the sea, the rain in the summer, the snow in the winter. They will sometimes stand and watch clouds. The movement of grass in the wind is very beautiful to them. More than one Gorean poet has sung of the leaf of a Tur tree. I have known warriors who cared for the beauty of small flowers.
Hunters of Gor, page 119

Paradoxically,the Gorean, who seems to think so little of women in some respects, celebrates them extravagantly in others.  The Gorean is extremely susceptible to beauty; it gladdens his heart, and his songs and art are often paeans to its glory.
Outlaw of Gor, page 54

The men call us "slave meat", and such, and perhaps this amuses them, and helps keep us in our place, at their feet, but only a woman who is a fool believes them. They want, and own, the whole slave
Dancer of Gor, page 154

...it is seldom wise to interfere in the relationship between a master and his slave.
Magicians of Gor, page 13

The wholisticality of the female's response is an interesting one. Their response is a whole, physical, emotional, and intellectual. Men have sex; women are sex.
Renegades of Gor, page 101

"Do not risk your life for me," she said.
"Why not?" he said.
"Because I am really only a slave girl, " she said.
"It is for such that men most cheerfully risk their lives," he said.
"Oh?" she said.
"Certainly," he said, "you would not expect them to go to all that trouble for a mere free female, would you?"
Renegades of Gor, page 218

The relationship of master and slave is the relation of total, helpless intimacy.
Renegades of Gor, page 404

The Gorean master desires more than a slave's submission, more than merely her body. A Gorean man is satisfied with nothing less than all of a slave. He will possess you, body and mind, heart and soul. Nothing less is acceptable.
Savages of Gor, page 174

"Masculinity and femininity are complementary properties," I told her. "If a man wishes a woman to be more feminine, he must be more masculine. If a woman wishes a man to be more masculine, she must be more feminine."
Explorers of Gor, page 205

"You are slave," I said. "You are owned. You are a female. You will be forced to be a woman. If you were free, and Gorean, you might be permitted by men to remain as you are, but you are neither Gorean nor free. The Gorean man will accept no compromise on your femininity, not from a slave. She will be what he wishes, and that is a woman, fully, and his. If necessary, you will be whipped or starved. You may fight your Master. He will, if he wishes, allow this to prolong the sport of your conquest., but in the end, it is you who are slave, it is you who will lose.
Tribesman of Gor, page 12

These are different men. They are not Earthlings. They are Goreans. They are strong, they are hard, and they will conquer you. For a man of Earth, you might never be a woman. For a man of Gor, I assure you, my dear, sooner or later you will be.
Tribesman of Gor, page 12

These girls may be exchanged among the men, but commonly they are not. Most masters are rather possessive about their slaves, particularly if they are fond of them.
Guardsman of Gor, page 209

...the slave girl is not simply someone with whom the man lives; she is very special to him; she is a treasured possession; he owns her; he wants to know her; profoundly and deeply; the background, history, the mind, the intelligence, the appetites, the nature and disposition of his lovely article of property;  this knowledge, of course, puts her more at his mercy; by making it possible to manipulate her feelings, exploit weaknesses, drop asides, ect., she in the helpless condition of slavery, it gives him more power over her.
Tribesmen of Gor, page 42

"Do some men care for their slaves," I asked, "just a little?" "Some men care for them much more than a little," he said. "Even natural slaves?" I asked. "Those are the best sort," he said.
Kajira of Gor, page 436

I wanted to be many women to him, and yet the same, always El-in-or. A man is a strange beast I think, for he both desires one woman and many women, and perhaps most he desires one woman who will be many women, others, delicious others, and yet always, too, herself.
Captive of Gor, page 352

I wanted a man who was greater than I, and incomparably so, one whom I must, in the order of nature obey, one to whom I must look up. And I did not care if it was from my knees, black with dust, a collar on my neck, naked, that I looked up to his glory.
Dancer of Gor, page 91




More to Come....





« Last Edit: September 15, 2008, 05:48:54 PM by sinnocent{MTC} »

sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #4 on: September 17, 2008, 02:31:40 PM »
taking the old... and making it new..... shedding of her desires.. and moving on...

(15:00:22 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: she'd spent the morning paring vegetables and fruits... washing.. cutting them down... adding them to pots of water with lots of sugars and herbs...as was required... making ramberry preserves and pickled squash to be kept so the food didn't go bad...she'd boiled the ramberries down in the sugar until it was thick and bubbly... with cheese cloth over the jars.. she carefully poured the sweet jelling preserves over the cheese clothe to separate the meat of the fruit from the juice...the thicker meaty fruit laying on the cheese cloth was then scraped into the jars until they where nearly full.. and liquid was poured over the fruit to the rim... so there would be more fruit and less juices... placing the pot aside.. she heated a candle allowing the wax to melt along the jar's rim making a solid fine beading.. before she twisted on the caps forming a lock tight seal.. gathering the jars she moved to where the water was steaming and set the jars into the water with care.. and lowered it to the fire to get a boil the canning process would be complete in a bit she would take them from the water and place them on shelves to cool and the vacuum would ensure a good seal and fresh preserves when the time came

(15:05:12 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: to the baby squash she had boiled them tender... with lots of salt... and dill... she then took them and laid them into the jars filling the jars then with the juices... the dill seeds danced in the juices as she wiped around the rim with care.... the herbs for the pickling of the squash smelled heavenly... she kept on task.. not wishing any of these things to be waisted knowing winter time these things would be enjoyed.... she moved around the wagon.. wiping her hands clean on the apron before she returned with the next batch of boiled squash.. again the jars were filled and then topped with liquid.. wax sealing them.. she set them aside and with a wooden tray tucked on womanly hip she headed out to the ramberry preserves and with tongs extracted them from the rolling waters placing them onto the tray she carefully made way back to the wagon and with a thick cloth she set them onto the cooling racks... and took the pickled squash out to be vacuum sealed as well.. placing them into the water... she lowered the pot to boiling.. and returned to the wagon


(15:09:28 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: it was a day of getting rid of the old.. making it new.. she'd shed a few old things even from herself. it was a new day...and the things she'd thought of before were gone now....lessons learned... she kept to herself as she moved... taking the older loaves of bread, she grabbed a large bowl...and began slicing the bread into cubes... small cubes that would air dry to a nice croûton.. and be sealed in leather pouches for topping kes salads and cheesy suls, she placed the sliced bread into the bowl and when it was full she added.. garlic and salt.. as well as ground pepper... and with slender hands she pressed in and rolled... distributing the seasonings through the crumbs as she worked them.... hips swaying a she moved... always watchful of her actions.. always aware of her slavery...


(15:19:06 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: soon would be the time of pumpkin bread and pies... the spices ordered from the point.. the cinnamon, the nutmeg.. all the wonderful scents that would bring about the coming of winter.. would fill the wagons...and then winter would come...and things would die.....she hated winter... it brought death.....but.. she knew beneath the snows.. the seed of the next years beauty was waiting... she removed the squash from the water and took them to the shelves to cool..then washed her hands... moving back to the prep table she rolled out several lare reps and poured the bread crumbs onto them.. and fanned them out... so the air could do its job.... moving to the wash basin she again wash her hands free of the seasonings....her thoughts had turned to winter much ealier than the season itself had come.... a cold heart.....beat for her...which was sad to her... but.. was the way it was.... she'd shed the things she had desired and had moved on.. with a knowing of her place....some things.. just weren't important...and as hard as it was it was a lesson she had to learn....it would be a cold day in hades... before she'd care again.. or be broken... she'd be what she was...nothing more.. nothing less...

(15:23:44 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: as ahns passed and she worked the commissary wagon... washing dishes... preparing snacks for the Free... bota's filled for the next round of out riders that would take their turn.... she moved around out of the way.. minding her own...she tried to hum today.. but.. just didn't feel like it....she dried the dishes and put them where they belonged.... moving to the croûtons she rolled each one to get the bottoms dried..... before washing her hands again.. moving to the canned goods.. still warm.. they would need to cool completely before being placed in storage to ensure each lid was locked tight so spoilage would not occur..


(15:31:23 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: as she finished wiping up the counters or worn smooth tem.. she would make note of some of the places on them and the cabnets that she would leave a note for Master Furaan that would need to be fixed.... there was a loose board in the back where the racks of bottles held juice and ale... probably not too safe if it stayed that way she made mental notes to leave for him at the Carpenters Clan wagon...and finished the last of the crouton drying...then carefully she scooped the dried bread into the leather pouches.... and sealed them.. placing them onto the shelves.... cleaning the prep table with care.. she tossed the reps to be washed and washed her hands.. she looked at her hands then small.. delicate.. yet hard working...washed a lot... worked a lot....wonderful hands.. whether cutting bosk steaks to be grilled or massaging a Master's back....taking a deep breath.. she headed out of the wagon glad to have been some kind of use to the Free

sinnocent

  • Guest
A Date....it had been.. far too long....and she was in need....
« Reply #5 on: September 17, 2008, 03:19:44 PM »
(15:35:38 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the whipping post
says to ALL
: as she moved along to the freight wagon....she looked over....she had a date....with it... it had been too long...she was losing fire in her belly...for what ever reason.. tho she knew why...it was her own....taking oil and rag.. she headed off... to meet her date.....emeralds locked on it....her heart beating loudly....she glanced around...having not witnessed any having a date with it....and she wondered at that,.,,, licking over her lips.. she approached.... her body sizzling

(15:41:33 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the whipping post
says to ALL
: her breasts heaved as she neared the post....tantamount was her desire....she moved around the post slowly... sizing it up...caressing it with her gaze....knowing it held for her...something..so deep...so needed...she doused the rag with the oil and placed the oil aside..she placed the oil rag on the oil can.. and quickly removed her curla and chatka...followed by her kalmack placing them safely away..she had a feeling this was going to get messy....green eyes closed as the sun kissed her flesh.. fiery locks dancing down her back...lifting the oil rag.. she approached the post....almost mesmerized.

(15:50:48 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the whipping post
says to ALL
: slender form trembled as she tip toed.. reaching up wards with the rag... one hand holding the post as her body dared to press fully to its hardness...the graze of silken cheek to its rough surface making her moan softly... as her hand atop the pole..wiggled slowly over and down..swirling atop the crown...the quiver of taut belly racing through her as bare thighs pressed to either side....her eyes closed as she went back recalling the last time..seemingly so far ago.. that she'd writhed beneath the lash of a Master....not because she'd disobeyed.. but because he had wanted her to dance to his whip. and know him as Master....of her pain.. as well as her pleasure....oh.. and she did recall the pleasure... no Man had taken her as such.. even these years later.. she could find her dreams around him awakening her to a start... her body drenched with sweat....long lashes closed...hips swaying slightly.. as she moved her arm over the pole.. the rag in hand....smearing oil over its dry surface

(15:58:59 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the whipping post
says to ALL
: she had once been a brazen sensually owned beast....raising both her hands to the top of the post....feeling them lashed with binding fibers... fear in her mind and her scent wickedly feminine as he approached her from behind.. his hands tormenting her aching body.... as he adjusted her hips just so... his knee between her thighs as he pressed her feet wider to where he wished them... the heat of his breath.. as he'd bent to whisper...."Don't Move" her forehead resting against the post as he took the time to inspect her....each inch.. he owned.. and knew each breath she took, he commanded of her....and she lived for him...his feather like touches.. a subterfuge of the dark moments she was about to play out....his lips pressing to the nape of her neck as he whispered "beautiful" her whole being trembling with something beyond desire....almost a knowing....and when the whip kissed her flesh...her scream had touched the skies

(16:06:26 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the whipping post
says to ALL
: moving back behind her.. his finger tracing the raised red welt... softly.. his whispered words "Don't Move" still could be heard....she felt the chill as he backed away.....emeralds closing as tiny fists formed as she was lashed to that unyielding Master...and the second whistle of wind as the whip lashed out brought her knees low as she cried out....and heard him hiss behind her "I said.. Don't Move" and she raised her body back to position... where he wished it... where his expertise with whip and discipline.. would leave her welted.. but never marred... the third lash crossing the two previous and she called out " Please Master!" as her body tugged at the bindings that held her, she could smell the oil that coated the post her sense alive now...and he again approached.. his fingers caressing over the lashes..one by one...as he whispered "wonderful"

(16:18:31 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the whipping post
says to ALL
: she whimpered and tugged.. as he pulled away....but to no avail.. once again.. the whip sang behind her..and she then gripped the pole with her hands....and she began to beg Him.. pleading He stop... but she held... she didn't move.... her body sobbing... as the last lashing of her body cut through her haze...her head falling back sending a cascade of ribbons of red as she did indeed writhe before him... in an agony she'd never known... he approached and placed the whip to her lips and had commanded a kiss...tears streamed as she'd offered salt laced kisses to the leather of his choice...his body warm and hard pressed against hers...and she understood what it was to be broken...so totally and utterly destroying anything she had been.. the Noble Prideful FW of Ar... was gone...she could not speak only cry . as he caressed his hands upwards along her arms slowly... she hated him... she hated him so much...and she hurt...he had hurt her....and before her hands had been unlashed from the pole.. she had loved him all over again.... it was a cycle she would never forget.....and then it was gone....he'd gone away...leaving her behind...and never returning....and she'd been sold at an auction....taking a deep breath... she swallowed.. as her hands then lowered to finish polishing the pole....her date with destiny over now... she could almost feel him... smell him...and PK's knew she desired him.. he'd burned himself into every fiber of her being...she'd known that once in a life time love....and it had ended.. and left her fractured....she lowered to her knees as she opened her eyes finally.... letting it fade from memory...wiping over the pole.. looking as the air lifted the hair at her nape...as if someone had passed her by....she knew he'd touched her again.....

sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #6 on: September 17, 2008, 06:12:36 PM »
Word and Quote of the Day

vociferous \voh-SIF-uhr-uhs\, adjective:
Making a loud outcry; clamorous; noisy.

as the whip laid into her flesh.. her screams were vociferous, resounding over the plains


Quote
I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use.
Galileo Galilei (1564 - 1642)



« Last Edit: September 18, 2008, 03:44:15 AM by sinnocent{MTC} »

sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #7 on: September 18, 2008, 03:45:34 AM »
~rolls the script and puts her writing things away for a time~

sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #8 on: September 20, 2008, 03:03:13 PM »
-clears her throat and tries to make heads and tails of her thoughts-

i am a slave.... does that mean... that the thoughts and actions of others..will not hurt me??
does it mean that those who...would assume things...not nice things... because i am a slave.. will not hurt me? i don't think so...

i've never asked anything of anyone...ever.... i don't trust easily.. and the ones i thought i could trust.. i've learned.. i can't.. and won't....does it make me a bad slave....??? no...

and while i can't change the thoughts and actions of some.. i can be better and rise above what others think... because i know the truth... i know my heart... i know who and what i am...

and believe it or not... its way above what some think of me...

just a few random thoughts of a slave girl..


-smiles and glad she got that off her chest she lays the chalk down and goes back to being what she is.... for better or worse....-

sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #9 on: September 20, 2008, 03:15:16 PM »
Word and Quote of the Day

supplicate[SUP-li-kayt'] transitive verb

 to ask humbly (for something);

kneeling before him.. she supplicated Master for mercy for her actions


Quote
You can no more win a war than you can win an earthquake.
Jeannette Rankin (1880 - 1973)





sinnocent

  • Guest
sins's chore
« Reply #10 on: September 20, 2008, 04:02:05 PM »
(16:43:14 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: taking a deep breath she moved along the path that would take her to the waters edge... and collected the basket of empty bottles... moving back up the trail with them keeping her mind on things that would be good.. she moved towards the commisary area to wash them.. and refill them with water and juices moving up the ramp she disappeared inside and set the basket on the worn tem prep table each bottle inspected was placed into the was water... and carefully washed.. along with the corks... each inspected washed and rinsed.. the bottle was set aside to dry as she continued


(16:48:18 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the commissary wagon
says to ALL
: taking several she moved to the water barrel and removed to lid... filling the bottles with care to their rim before she pressed the corks into the mouth and placed them back in the basket she hummed softly as she worked delicate hands making quick work of her duties before she slid the lid back over the water barrel and grabbed a few more of the bottles... setting them onto the prep table she lifted a kanthros of freshly squeezed juice and filled the bottles.. one of ramberry.. one of tospit and several of larma the kanthros now empty would be washed and put away as well.... each bottle of juice was corked and placed into the basket with the water... and she had several more in hand.. and filled them with.. paga.. and ale


(16:54:38 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the water's edge
says to ALL
: grunting she lifted the basket and moved back out of the wagon.... making way to the cold springs feeling the kiss of the sun on her body as she moved her arms aching as she reached the waters edge and lowered setting the basket beside her she leaned in and hauled the netting up pulling it all the way out.. she laid it flat and released all the bottles and lifted them to the highest points so that the new bottles added would have time to cool and the older juices and such would be used first rotating the bottles... she then added all the bottles she'd filled and began lowering the net slowly as another row was added... until all the bottles were now attached and lowered to the cold waters...


(16:55:24 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

at the water's edge
says to ALL
: returning the basket to the pole where the rope to the net was secured for those emptying bottles into the botas... she rose and moved back along the trail towards the kennel wagons...


(16:56:28 )





~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar

in the kennel wagon
says to ALL
: moving to the porch she ducked past the flap and into the wagon disappearing within.. she moved to her back corner and found her furs.. curling up in silence


sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #11 on: September 21, 2008, 08:34:18 AM »
(09:09:12 )
~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar
kneeling at the main fire
says to ALL
: she knelt in silence dragging a basket of mending to where she knelt... ever aware of those around her should some be in need of her service as she removed a tunic.. turning it inside out and then finding a thread closely matching the leather color she unwound, cut it with her teeth and threaded the needle... gathering the leather of soft tabuk she began making the stitches small and easy but strong along the ripped seam

(09:13:05 )
~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar
kneeling at the main fire
says to ALL
: she hummed as she worked.. emerald eyes on her work.. careful not to prick her fingers as she worked...soft pink tongue teasing the side of lush lips as she concentrated on the task... the needle fine bone and larger than normal to pierce the thicker leather material glidded through with seeming ease as she worked it...though she was used to working gut through flesh.. it was the same really..except no screaming patient...she chuckled softly to herself as she worked

(09:18:48 )
~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar
kneeling at the main fire
says to ALL
: the rip mended she made a knot and bent with sharp teeth and cut the thread free and set the tunic aside to be washed and sent to its owner as she then took out another tunic in need of repairs... the dip of firey curls as she concetrated on finding the tear... gaze sweeping over the material finally finding the hem in need of rehemming she clicked her tongue and began the search for more thread of like color.. pulling it from the spool she began threading the needle and turned the hem back right side and under... beginning at a place just past where the material was still in tact she began new rows over lapping old to catch the threads up and keep them from pulling.. and she made neat herringbone stitches her fingers moving deftly over the leather... along that hem.. until she worked it a bit past where the other side ended.. capturing the threads up in the new workings.. to keep them from pulling.. she knotted the material and cut it with her teeth... before setting it aside to be washed and returned to its owner

(09:21:35 )
~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar
kneeling at the main fire
says to ALL
: she listened to some of the idle chit chat of the slaves who moved past.. or who sat studying or mending as well.. seemed things had been tense of late..things happening.. people coming.. visitors.. some wounded... some Arians who'd gotten their ass's whipped... she listened half heartedly.. as she worked... knowing it wasn't her business... she would listen for a name...hearing it now and again.. but she wouldn't let it bother her....she was moved past.. despite the hurt....she was just a slave.. and what others did.. was their own business.. she had her own to deal with and would....

(09:23:58 )
~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar
kneeling at the main fire
says to ALL
: another garment pulled from the pile and she was looking it over for the mending needed... worrying bottom lips with tiny sharp teeth as she spotted the tear...tilting her head as the blood soaked around the large gash..she knew this would need to be sent to scrap... it could be used for something else.. but would never be a tunic again... with great care scissors in hand she cut along the seams making the pieces as large as possible before cutting the one large section of blood away... she set the pieces aside to be sent to the scraps after washing and tossed the bloodied section to the fire to be burned..

(09:28:08 )
~sinnocent~
{MTC}
pagar
in the main camp area
says to ALL
: feeling around in her basket.. finding it empty of mending.. she smiled and tossed the small useless pieces of thread to the fire.. she replaced the needle in the sewing kit and the threads she'd used as well.. closing the kit she set it back onto the bottom of the basket and set the basket aside.. rising she gathered up the mending and scraps and headed off to get them to laundry baskets the ease foot falls carrying the lovely creature slowly across the hard ground.. feet bare kissing the ground as shapely hips tease the curla at her hips....the touch of plains breeze lifting a riot of curls and tossing them around as she moved.. delivering the tunics to the bath area where girls washed and oiled the leather with great care... and then the scraps taken to the freight wagon to be used another time


sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #12 on: September 21, 2008, 08:40:18 AM »
word and quote of the day


beneficence \buh-NEFF-i-suhns\, noun:
The practice of doing good; active goodness, kindness, or charity.

many times as wars would over take a camp the ravages of these wars would bring many Warriors to their end.. the home would act in beneficence with the widows and children left behind.. in help with work and other things that normally the Warrior of his family would have tended.


Quote
Some mornings it just doesn't seem worth it to gnaw through the leather straps.
Emo Phillips


sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #13 on: September 22, 2008, 05:22:07 PM »
 :'(
slips in pens a note..

just struggling for now...

sin


slips out

sinnocent

  • Guest
Re: sin's journal....because.. so much is lost over time..
« Reply #14 on: September 22, 2008, 05:25:27 PM »
Word and Quote of the Day


infelicity(noun) [in'-fi-LIS-i-tee]
 something inappropriate

she was very disturbed by the infelicity of behaviors, her mind and heart not bringing things to a mutual agreement




Quote
Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are.
Bertolt Brecht (1898 - 1956)