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Post by Robyn Lester on Dec 5, 2011 20:18:19 GMT -5
Why Raven had chosen the Kingdom of Celidoine to be their dwelling place for some time was beyond Robyn, and as she didn’t mince matters she had asked him about it quite a few times already, without getting the answer she needed. Celidoine was not exactly crowded after all, and little crowd meant little opportunity to play and perform, and therefore meant little money.
”But we’ve been handsomely paid at the feast over in Cantia”, Raven had explained a little impatiently. “We can go with less for some while without having to fear of starving. Why do you have to question my every order, girl? Sometimes you’re really too much to deal with!”
Robyn had rolled her eyes at that, but after a conversation with Madla, she had finnally let herself be convinced that a little holiday might do them all good. It was hard work being on stage almost every day after all, and they surely deserved a little reprieve.
That didn’t change the fact though that Robyn missed the performances. They had been going without them for three solid days, and slowly she thought she was showing withdrawal syndroms. It was not only the performance itself, it was everything that went with it, the excitement, the victory celebrations afterward, and most of all: the people. Robyn loved the pack and she couldn’t quite imagine ever living with anyone else, but now she craved a little distraction. Apart from a few peasants they had not come across anyone so far, let alone someone exciting. It was nothing but dull routine these days, travelling without real need as for now there was no destination, no feast and no fair, and speaking to the same people over and over again.
The evening of the third day was now creeping upon them, and Raven ordered camp being set in a little clearing a few paces away from the road. Like every night, the few wagons were drawn up in a circle to give a little protection against raiders, and in the middle of this circle, a fire was lit for cooking a rather sumptious evening meal, courtesy of the king of Cantia, who had been very pleased with their performance and had seen to it that they were not only paid, but also equipped with loads of naturals.
Despite craving for something a little more exciting, Robyn outwardly was still in a good mood. She joked around with Madla while helping her prepare the evening meal and teased Jerome so long until he lifted her off her feet and threatened to throw her in the fire.
”Mercy, mercy!” Robyn laughed breathlessly and squealed as Jerome brought her feet dangerously close to the cooking pot and flames.
But suddenly their disport was cut short by a voice calling out to them:
"Are we having a party then?"
Immediately, Jerome let go of Robyn and he and the other men of the pack darted around, adopting a defensive stance and moving a bit to shield the others out of habit. The voice had been cheery and the man seemed alone, though you never knew what his true intentions were. He could mean to distract them while his fellow bandits surrounded them.
But then, after a tense moment, Raven started to smile, albeit a little tentatively still. “Good evening, my friend. Welcome to the camp of the Raven Pack. If your intentions are well-meaning, then yes, consider this a party you can join.”
Robyn had watched the newcomer with great interest and excitement and was the first to spot the instrument on his back. Like it was her character, she could not keep silent for long.
”Well, whatever his intentions are, he seems to like music. Don’t think you carry that burden around for nothing, friend?”
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Post by Robyn Lester on Dec 5, 2011 18:20:07 GMT -5
Robyn felt a mix of pride, relief and a tint of sadness as well, like often when she had just finished a performance. It was marvellous they had been received so well, and she was glad it was over because the heat would have killed her sooner or later. But then there was also this peculiar feeling of having to return back into reality. Not that reality was particularly bleak, she loved her life after all, but there was nothing she enjoyed more than standing on the stage wagon, impersonating someone else and make the people forget the difference between act and reality. Every time she ended a play, it was like she said goodbye to another world, one that might be as brutal as her own, or as wonderful as her own, but always a little bit better, because it was only thought up. Even dying was tinted with a rose color, because it would make people feel the greatest heights of emotions. Acting was not only her life, it was far more than life.
The crowd began to disperse as Alfie was walking amongst them, gathering their generous donations in his little hat. Some gave nothing, some gave much, in the end it would probably suffice for a good meal and a few drinks at the tavern, and maybe a bit on the side for when things were rough.
Starting to clean up the stage, picking up the props they used, Robyn busied herself, mostly only using one hand again. It was not long until Raven called her to his side, handing her a few coins with a fond smile. “Let us do the rest”, he suggested lowly. “If you could get us a cold ale out here from the tavern, I think we all would love you forever.”
Nodding, Robyn took the few coins and smiled, feeling a warm surge of gratitude towards the leader of their group. That was just Raven’s way. He had seen she was not comfortable with cleaning up, but instead of calling her out openly on her weakness and make her feel bad in front of the others, he had given her a means of escape where she could bow out gracefully without feeling useless.
”Three tankards enough?” she asked quickly. “Or shall I make it four, and we all share? I could drain a whole well myself.”
”Make it four”, Raven agreed after short consideration, and Robyn nodded again, skilfully hopping off the wagon and pushing her way through the crowd.
Tybalt called something after her, but it drowned in the buzzing of voices that still filled the square. Perhaps he was just jokingly complaining about her slipping away from work, but even if so, Robyn knew he would be grateful for the ale. |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Dec 1, 2011 9:10:31 GMT -5
Hadn’t this been a totally unnerving happestance for Robyn, she might have even laugh at Prince Celyn’s obvious awkwardness. But concerning the circumstances it only filled her with some sort of grim satisfaction, and she continued to stare rather unfriendly at him. It might be unjust of herself to lump him together with his father and that one knight who had started the uproar in the first place, but right now Robyn was far more concerned with her own right. She had buried the anger inside her for too long, only looking at the bright side of it all, and the appearance of his face had been to sudden to guard her feelings like she usually did. There had been a time when she had been in danger of slipping into self-pity and acquiring the fixed idea that she was now blemished. She had never shown anything of that to the outside world, even though her brother Tybalt might have guessed some of it, but she only recently had fully recovered and finally closed this chapter of her life.
And now he came along.
In all honesty, Robyn was rather surprised and a little bit impressed that Prince Celyn had made the connection right away. Had the incident really been so memorable not only for the Raven Pack, but for the royal court as well? Or did he simply have a good memory? The cautious “Ah” only added to the awkwardness of the situation in whole, even though Robyn didn’t know why SHE should feel awkward. Nothing of this had been her fault, right? And yet, the Lady Justice was not blind to her own faults.
She knew that Celyn was probably only guilty of not standing up for her, but then he had certainly not been the only one. No one had spoken for Robyn except herself, and she knew she had still got away lucky. A different king might have seen her killed for this insubordination, or removed of her tongue for speaking out against him. He could not have listened at all, and still took Alfie’s hand. He had not, and Robyn knew she should be grateful. But it was hard to be grateful when you were only given partially right.
Robyn continued to stare at him, but now the stare took on a definitely surprised edge. Had he just said his father had been wrong in punishing her? Had she not still been so irritated and shocked to see him, she might have accepted that comment as what it was and moved on, thinking that there might be miracles and honorable nobles still left in this world. Alas, Robyn was still rather spoiling for a fight, even if not in the physical sense.
”Oh was he?”, she asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Well then, how fortunate for your father that we seem to live in a world where those who are wrong get away unscathed while those who are right have to suffer the consequences.”
It was harsh, and it might even be unfair, but that was all the young woman could say at the moment. Poor Celyn was being held responsible not only for his father, but also for his whole status, nobles, who Robyn never had particularly been fond of because they more often than not acted after the phrase: Might makes right. And yet, deep down inside her, Robyn craved for him to retaliate. To prove her wrong |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 27, 2011 19:25:47 GMT -5
Fantastic? Well that probably was the understatement of the year. For Robyn there was no true word to describe it, and she was indeed happy she loved what life had made her doing. She could not imagine being anything else but a juggler, and she surely had no delusions of grandeur. Hopefully she wouldn’t be the one standing in her own way when it came to justice one day. The finger had been a warning, but she couldn’t know how long it would last.
”There’s really nothing like it… sometimes impersonating someone else can rid you of your own troubles for a while, but that shouldn’t be the main cause. It can give you great insight into other people as well, and may make you tolerant. Because being in a different skin makes you see the world from another angle.”
When she had thought of an opportunity to play, Robyn had not quite envisioned something so grand like a wedding. A birthday maybe, or a formal gathering of nobles, like they had often, because they apparently had nothing else to do and would die of boredom if they didn’t share their freetime with each other. A wedding however was something solemn and at the same time very joyous – at least she guessed to by the look that had entered Lady Caitrin’s eyes. Robyn had not performed yet on many noble weddings, but she knew that most of the time they were pre-arranged things that had little to do with love. But the look in this woman’s eyes suggested otherwise. Could it be she really was in love with the man she wanted to marry? The young girl was all but assuming and she could be wrong, but there was just something the word ‘wedding’ had caused in Lady Caitrin and it didn’t feel like indifference or dutifulness.
”My sincere congratulations then, Mylady”, Robyn said with a smile, but went into business mode the moment after. “What kinds of songs are you interested in? I assume some merry things, of course, but in what general direction? Ballads? Histories of the Older Times? Or shall there be a song produced especially for you and your husband? That could be done as well.” It would not be the first time the Raven Pack had composed something according to the occasion. It required a set of information, but it was managable, and Robyn actually loved doing it. That way the performance was special, singular, and added a special feeling to the whole event. But it would all be Lady Caitrin’s place to decide.
”And it is truly only the singing you want? We have many more things to offer.” To be just, Robyn knew she would at least have to mention the Raven Pack as a whole, even though the chances to actually get them in there were slim. But she would have to try, if only to have a clean conscience. “A short play perhaps, or you could amaze your guests with someone able to spew fire.” |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 27, 2011 16:13:10 GMT -5
In fact, it seemed like that collision had hurt Robyn more than the man she had jostled, and that might be fortunate. She was used to take instead of dishing out – apart from when it came to words of course – and being a young woman with no rights at all had left the imprint on her that she, when things got physical, rather was the one being hurt, in fear of the other party starting a scene that could endanger the whole of the pack. Everyone could just chuck them out after all, without needing anyone’s permission first. The Raven Pack was free game, and what had happened no more than a few months ago had brought this fact brutally to the forefront of everyone’s mind. Robyn’s bandaged left hand was more than enough proof of it. The stump was healing well, and she only was seldomly in pain anymore, but they still kept it bandaged for protection.
Now, when jostling the foreign man, Robyn had accidently hit the side of her left hand against his shoulder and she surpressed a hiss. Hopefully the scar tissue was not damaged… she could not afford to start from scratch with this wound! Checking with a quick glance that at least no blood was visible on the greyish white of the bandages, she started to say: “Yes, yes, I am—“ but before she could finish the sentence, her eyes had settled on the man’s face.
She did not stumble backwards, she did not even gasp, but her face muscles tensed and hardened until she was showing a cold mask of surpressed fury. Celyn ap Llewelyn! She had no idea what he was doing in this place, and she did not really care, but she knew she did not want to see him. Not him of all people!
In an instant, she was transferred back through time and space and relived the most dreadful moment of her life. She saw Celyn’s father wanting to pass the judgement on Alfie, saw herself stepping between the boy and the soldiers and felt the sickening, shocking pain of when her finger had been cut off. All this came just because he was here, and he was his father’s son. She didn’t even know if he had been present that day, but if he had, he had not interfered and that made him as guilty as the rest of them! Her finger had been the sacrifice for justice, and she had payed it gladly, but it still was wrong. None of the Raven Pack had acted out of line, but because they were free game, a knight could demand recompense for a crime that never happened.
”You…” It was but a whisper, the only sign that she had recognized him, and it did not hold as much surprise as rather contempt.
Her face hardening even more, she made a step to brush past him. Any word more would be wasted, but there was also a lot of fear involved. Robyn, a girl who usually always stood her ground, wanted to flee the scene, afraid of what she might do in her seething anger that would maybe cost her her head. Oh yes, sorry, I totally forgot that xD It's cool it is tht early, because then the incident is still fresh in her mind xD |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 27, 2011 15:30:43 GMT -5
Seventeen year-old Robyn told herself firmly that she was fine. That fluttering in her stomach area was by no means stage fright. Stage fright – ha! A real juggler did not have stage fright! It was not the first time she would be performing in front of higher nobility and even royalty, and it wouldn’t be her last! That this was outside Sugales, in Cantia where she had never been before, wasn’t a problem either, right? She could do this!
Holding her head high, Robyn took a sneaky glance around to examine the other members of the Raven Pack, how they were faring with the situation. Her brother Tybalt, twenty four years of age and still the worst rascal you could find, grinned at her, already holding a flickering torch in his right hand and a handful of clubmoss spores hidden in the other. He probably knew exactly what she was thinking and how she was feeling right now, and Robyn rolled her eyes in annoyance. Clearly, he knew her too well!
Her gaze wandered on towards little Alfie who was nervously fiddling with three juggling balls. Robyn was holding the other three ready, while the rest of the pack either carried various intruments or nothing at all. They had already formed into a line, Jerome on the front who would open the procession with his acrobatic skills, then Alfie would follow, juggling, with Robyn holding the reserve balls, and after he had them all included she would take up the tune the others were playing and start to dance. Tybalt would be the last with his impressive fire-eating and –breathing. All they were waiting for now was the signal that would announce their presence. Robyn was a little surprised that their presence had not been called out earlier. In fact, they were waiting in a back room and had been brought to the castle under utmost secrecy, and Robyn’s only explanation was that the king had wanted to keep them as a surprise for his guests.
Well, more peculiar things had happened.
There, the signal! It merely consisted of the wave of a servant, but immediately, everyone in the group straightened and took one last preparing breath. Out of the corner of her eyes, Robyn saw Tybalt stuffing his mouth with the spores, then she felt a nudge in her back and followed after Alfie, watching him closely to deem when he wanted the next ball. As soon as they entered the hall where the feast took place, they started a merry little tune, and Robyn felt the rhythm course through her veins. Gladly Alfie, even though still young of age, got into the juggling pretty fast, so only after a few minutes, the young girl started to dance. When reaching the large U-shaped table arrangement the group fanned out and each took a previously agreed on spot to continue their performance.
Robyn skipped across the floor like whirlwind, but slowly made her way towards the middle of the U where the king sat. As soon as she reached the spot, the musicians ended the tune on a chord, while Tybalt blew out one last portion of his spores. At the same time, Robyn lowered herself into a deep curtsy and then raised her head, praying for her voice to carry, as she called out:
”Guests from far and near, your gracious king has called you to celebrate his birthday with him! So now it’s time to bow to the crown!”
And the next second the group was intoning another melody, and Robyn started to sing, backed up by Madla who had exchanged the pipe for a tambourine.
Song: www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsuKM-oV_AE |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 26, 2011 17:25:58 GMT -5
A day or two? Wow, that would be the day indeed! Robyn hadn’t had more than a few hours to herself ever since she could think back, and really she had not wanted to. Moving around and performing with the Raven Pack was not only a profession, it was her life! She couldn’t think of ever giving it up! What would she do with two whole days without practicing or performing? Then again, what were noblewomen doing with all the time they had to spare? Stitching? Gossipping? Reading perhaps? Well, even that could only fill half a day, right? Until Caitrin had mentioned it, Robyn hadn’t really thought about the possibilities of free time. Had she now cited spirits that would ignore her command? But then, Robyn was much too carefree to ponder about something for long, she would probably have forgotten the next day.
”I will think about it”, she promised with a grin. “If we can allow my strike without suffering from it, I might do it one day.” But really, a carney group was not only a band of rascals, they were professionals in what they did and everyone had to function.
Robyn realized the awkwardness she had brought into this conversation almost physically. Goodness gracious, she should not have brought up such a topic in front of a lady, however different from the rest she seemed. It was obvious Lady Caitrin had gotten it wrong and now tried desperately to steer the conversation away from a very scandalous direction. Misbegotten children were a scandal and shame in every status, even though many almost expected it from people like Robyn.
Happily, she took the next question as a distraction, glad the lady still agreed to talk to her after this misjudgement, and not in the least bothering to clear it up.
”I really, really do enjoy acting”, she answered honestly, a warm fire lighting up her brown eyes. “It gives me joy, seeing the people reacting to what I do, that they can completely forget this is only a play and not reality. And I also enjoy just making them laugh. There is no better feeling than when a joke is well received.”
In fact, Robyn did not mind bluntness at all, she rather appreciated that they were done with the smalltalk. Not that she – oddly enough – hadn’t enjoyed talking about her profession with this lady, but she wanted to know what was really going on here, and if Lady Caitrin hadn’t confirmed it was to be business, Robyn would have probably asked about her true intentions rather soon.
”My service in singing?” she asked, taking on a slightly business-like tone, but silently wishing she had Tybalt or another member of the pack with her to aid her. “Or any other things? For what occasion would that be?”
Lady Caitrin had also only inquired after her services alone… she was not sure if Raven would like that. Of course she would share anything she got out of it with the whole group, but he still did not like solo acts all that much. |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 26, 2011 15:48:14 GMT -5
When she saw her words had not offended, but rather amused the lady, Robyn heaved a little inward sigh. Today must be her lucky day. She had no will to offend yet another person and maybe this time lose more than a finger to it. A cold shower ran down her spine as she remembered a common punishment for insubordination. The rules that regulated physical punishment were actually really logical. Only the limb that had comitted the crime would be affected by the punishment. A thief lost the hand with which he had pilfered the goods, and someone too bold… Robyn’s tongue moved over her lips rather nervously. No… her thoughts were running wild again, that was the downside of being a very imaginative actor! No one would cut out her tongue anytime soon, if she knew how to hold it!
”The good thing about carneys is that there are no real ‘superiors’”, she informed Lady Caitrin with a grin. “So I would know how to get my way… what would it bring them if I stayed by their side… but refused to open my mouth?” Watching a bird crossing the sky over their heads, she added rather thoughtfully: “No bird can sing in a cage…”
But then she returned to the imminent reality, and nodded to the woman’s question, pointing at the stage where her brother and Madla just appeared to open the first scene.
”It’s already starting, but this is one I do not have a major part in. It was mostly performed while I was…” she stopped, shutting her mouth and almost blushing. Now she would have almost told this lady about the time when she had been still suffering from her mutilation. But she could not leave the sentence hanging in thin air like that, so she finished it rather lamely with: “…indisposed” looking away for a moment. Probably the lady would now think her a loose girl that had unbiddenly become pregnant, but then Robyn had not noticed she had been rubbing her left hand while speaking. She did it out of habit and it most of the time slipped her attention.
She could not help but raise her brow a little in surprise as lady Caitrin gave her such a respectful greeting. Of course she was being addressed with her first name, she was not used to anything else. It was far better than being called ‘you’ only, which often happened when performing around more aloof nobles – if they even bothered to address her at all.
Taking one last measuring look back at the stage, Robyn agreed with a nod. “It’s still a little while until I have to be there myself, so yes, I can take a little walk. But please not too far, I have to check on the stage to see how far they come, at least from afar…”
Hopefully the lady would agree to that deal. Sometimes these kind of people were a little hard to please. |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 26, 2011 14:41:35 GMT -5
Watching the young woman out of the corner of her eye, Robyn wondered what was on her mind. She did not really seem stressed out, but then what noble really ever was stressed out. They didn’t have to care for their own living, they had a warm fire in almost every room and they didn’t need to have a light sleep for fear of getting their throats cut while sleeping. Or… maybe the latter, but most of the time they were too arrogant to realize it.
Robyn’s dislike for nobles was not even profound, it was just such a different lifestyle to her she found it hard to relate to. But she didn’t envy them, like some of the commoners did. She loved her freedom and was sure even the peasants were more free than those ruling over them. Maybe if they once looked down from their high up castle, they would realize the people down below where the true kings, because they actually had fun.
Was that the reason some nobles wanted to mingle with the common crowd? To taste some of that freedom? But then, what did she know what went on in that woman’s head. Which brought her back to her previous question. Had her thoughts really wandered in a circle just now? Seems like someone needed a break!
With an inward smile at herself, Robyn listened to the woman’s ongoing praise. Either she really meant it, or she had a huge favor to ask. Or maybe both? That truly remained to be seen, but for now, Robyn gave a chuckle.
”Why, really? I have to tell that our group leader, maybe I could negotiate a few more days off if I am such a star.” That had been sounded not to mock the lady, but rather herself, but of course, as soon as those words left her mouth she could see them to be taken otherwise. But Robyn was not one to take her words back.
”But to answer your question, I think I’ve been singing as long as I could remember. It comes natural with a group such as the Raven Pack.” She spoke the name with not little pride, indicating to the gathering of wagons. “But even more than singing I like to perform in plays. I think that is my true vocation.” Why was she telling that woman all that? She was not being lured in by all that flattery, now really?! SHE had to remain on top of this conversation, or she would be exploited! That was something Raven had always warned her about.
"My name is Lady Caitrin de Archer, these are my Uncle's lands."
Dear Gods, she was conversing with a relative of the landholder?! Sweet goodness, now she had to weigh every word thrice as carefully, lest the Raven Pack could be driven from this place! She should have guessed though, noblewomen were not just sprouting from the ground like that, after all.
Giving a little curtsy that was still not very servile at all, Robyn replied:
”I have many names, Mylady, amongst them Mockingbird and Lady Justice, but my birthname is Robyn Lester, at your service.”
Well, at least time would tell if she wanted to be at this woman’s service… or if that even was what she was after. |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 25, 2011 19:40:07 GMT -5
Watching and listening to Raven gave Robyn a quite peculiar feeling of being attached and detached at the same time. She knew this man ever since she could remember, he had been very much like a father figure to her, and she was proud being a member of his group. But when he spoke like that, it was as if she saw another part of him at the same time, she was able to look at him as if she did not know him at all. Maybe it was the unusual position in the crowd, or maybe it was her just being weird today. But it was no bad feeling, jut thoroughly interesting. She found her ears not really following his words, and yet she was hanging on his lips – so much apparently that she had not noticed someone approaching her, and the sudden voice right next to her made her wince. Living on the road constantly and being out of the law while no criminal could make you more than just a little jumpy at times, if only out of instinct.
Her surprise only maginified as she saw who was actually adressing her: it was the noblewoman she had not been able to place earlier. And just this action of being approached proved to be another surprise. She really had not expectef the woman to do something like that.
The compliment came as not so much a surprise, even though Robyn of course appreciated it. She had heard many times that she had a good voice, even though she herself didn’t deem it that special, more average. But receiving this compliment from a woman was somehow more valuable than receiving it from a man. Everyone knew after all that men often used such words as a euphemism for something completely else. “You have a pretty voice” simply sounded less shallow than “I like your pretty face or your curves” which was what they usually meant.
Then again… wasn’t a compliment usually something with strings attached. With men it was clear, they wanted her attention, but what could this noblewoman want?
As there was only one true way to find out, Robyn chose to be polite and friendly to the woman for now. She didn’t have much against nobles in general after all, there were just some of them who… but that was beside the point now.
”Thank you, Mylady, I am glad it pleased you”, she replied, inclining her head. “But to be fair, I am sure there are many other singers far better than I, it is after all just one of the things I do, and one can’t be master of all trades.”
Humility wasn’t one of Robyn’s striking features, but she always got a little awkward when praised. It wouldn’t hurt here after all, better not to anger the woman yet until she had actually found out her reason for talking to her. Maybe there could be something in it for the group? It wouldn’t be the first time such arrangements were made that way. |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 25, 2011 10:32:08 GMT -5
Robyn smiled and laid her head back to savour the sun on her skin as she was idly wandering over the little market square of this sweet little village they had just stopped in. Raven was not sure if they would even perform, maybe they would just stop to gather new supplies. Sending Madla, Jerome and Tybalt off to gather what they possibly could, little as it may be, he had given the others a time off until afternoon. As actual free time without any duties or not being in motion was a rarity, Robyn was intent to savor it as long as she possibly could. She might not like to stay alone for too long, but being constantly together with a carney group left little room for solo trips and privacy. Most of the time she didn’t care about it, but today she felt like being alone for a little while – as alone as you could be in a small village that is.
She had also told Alfie she rather wanted to roam alone, even though she usually didn’t mind the little boy’s company. He had obliged, but he had seemed a little crestfallen. Maybe she should get him something from the market while she was at it? She didn’t know why, but she just could not see him sad. It might be true if Madla said that children truly were her dearest weakness. Maybe she someday would have children of her own? But even though she was already nineteen, that thought seemed as far away as the moon. She had had a few dalliances, but nothing serious, and somehow she didn’t want to end up like her dear mother, getting pregnant in a Beltaine night and getting consumption on top of it. She couldn’t blame her mother for not being there of course, but she didn’t want to make the same mistakes.
That aside, she was much more versed in creating her own typical mess, Robyn thought while a quick frown worked itself over her face. Absentmindly, she rubbed the stump of her little finger. How peculiar it was that the phantom pain always occurred when she thought about it. And quite annoying as well. But she would not let this incident of the past ruin her day today, she decided firmly, and put it out of her mind.
Not minding the peculiar glances she was given, she approached a rickety makeshift stall where a man was vending leather products of a variety from knife sheaths to hairbands.
”What can I do for such a pretty foreign lady?” he asked with a wink, apparently in a flirty mood. Robyn laughed, not minding a little banter every now and again. After she had convinced him she did not seek something for herself and had very little money to spare as it was, he proved to be very helpful in choosing a leather tag for his juggling ball satchel. It was not much, but she hoped the boy would appreciate the gesture.
This little incident had raised her mood even further, and so when saying goodbye to the vendor, she turned with her motion full of verve, not thinking someone could walk close by. Rather roughly, she jostled someone walking by just this moment, and staggering backwards, she breathed out: “Dear goodness, I’m so sorry!” |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 25, 2011 7:49:38 GMT -5
Robyn was feeling beads of sweat forming on her forehead, and she hoped they would not run down into her eyes. It was quite a warm day, but wiping her forehead would be out of character. The young man she was posing as right now, with her locks tied together by a leather thong and in breeches, would not be exhausted by this kind of excersize at all.
”Come on, Hector, I don’t have all day”, she snarled though in the deepest voice she could manage, and lashed out with the blunted steel blade at her brother Tybalt, posing as said Hector. Robyn was glad the weapons they were fighting with were in no way comparable to the swords knights used, as they were made of bad steel and far less heavy. Thus, even Robyn could handle them with what looked like ease, though even the considerable less weight caused her problems after a while.
Tybalt could always use his left hand as a back-up and support should a blow need more strength, but Robyn’s own left hand was still in bandages. More out of protection than real necissity, but the stump of her little finger would take some time to heal completely yet. The scar tissue was still fragile, and while doing stage combat, it could happen Tybalt would accidently hit it and break it up again. None of them wanted to take any risks. Funnily enough though, the Raven Pack had found a way to include her disability into most of their plays, sometimes just letting someone drop a comment about how her character had been previously injured, but sometimes it was even a grander part of a plot. That was how they lived, make the best of everything that was thrown their way.
But now the time for her defeat had come. It was part of the story that Tybalt alias Hector should win this fight, and even kill Robyn in the process. The play was nearly at and end and Robyn’s tragic death and a very shocking revellation would end it as a tragedy.
With a few quick glances, brother and sister communicated silently and then Tybalt charged with a wicked series of blows they had rehearsed countless times. He touched Robyn’s chest with the tip of his sword and the young girl staggered backwards and fell to her knees.
”So be it…” she croaked, pressing a hand over the ‘wound’. “You stabbed my heart for real this time, while you broke it years ago.” With trembling hands, Robyn then reached for the leather band holding her hair together and let it cascade over her shoulders while she fell on her back. Tybalt gasped and cried out in sudden understanding as his character realized he had just mortally wounded the love of his life he had left earlier in the play. He prayed to the Gods for help and forgiveness, and then gave his love one last kiss as she died in his arms.
Staying in her brother’s arms, Robyn kept her eyes closed as Raven moved to the edge of the stage, holding the eplogue. This was needed to get the audience back into reality, to tell them it had been all happening long ago. With the final command: “Alas, rise ye dead!” the illusion was broken, and under the applause of the gathered crowd, Robyn and Tybalt rose to their feet and joined the other members of the Raven Pack, bowing low.
Finally, Robyn wiped her forehead and took in a deep breath. Hopefully the cleaning up would not take too long, she yearned for a drink. |
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Nov 16, 2012 19:38:58 GMT -5
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 25, 2011 7:06:21 GMT -5
Still a little out of breath from the singing and also the excitement she felt whenever the crowd was pleased, Robyn took a moment longer to examine the crowd below. There were your ordinary village people, in common, simple clothes, some women wearing scarves to show them as married workwomen, some carrying children on their hips or holding their hands. Like always, Robyn’s eyes took on a warm glow as she watched those children. Some where also running around the few wagons the Raven Pack owned, examining everything with eyes wide open in awe. Whenever jugglers came along, it was a special day. They saw something new, foreign, and wanted to be a part of it, even for a few hours.
But there was also a young woman that stuck out from everyone around her. It was not only the clothes that marked her a probably wealthy enough noblewoman, it was also the way she held herself, confidently as far as Robyn could tell but not with this common air of aloofness you usually witnessed around people of her kind. She didn’t seem to mind standing amongst the villagers, and that alone was peculiar. She did not stick out because she was different, but because she did not seem to care to be different. Furrowing her brows in surprise, Robyn found she could not place this young woman, and that was a little alarming. Not in a threatening sort of way, but over her years of travel, she had thought she could estimate the different kinds of people quite well, maybe even upon first glance.
Only when she felt someone tugging at the sleeve of her dress, Robyn realized she had been standing here on the makeshift stage for too long and that she now should leave the scene. There would be a little pause, bridged by Raven telling the audience the outline of the play that was shortly to commence. Robyn’s part was a little way off still, and so she would have ample time to change clothes and maybe snatch a little something to drink. Singing always made her thirsty.
With the skill and elegance of someone having done this countless times, Robyn therefore hopped off the stage wagon and went a little too the side, but did not vanish behind the makeshift folding screen yet where other members of the pack were waiting, silently rehearsing and dressing for their role. She loved watching Raven talk too much. In his fourties and already with a few grey streakes in his hair, he possessed a quite carrying deep bariton voice that seemed to be just made for telling stories and capturing the audience.
And for now Robyn was part of the audience. She cherished these moments, to be on the receiving and not on the giving end sometimes, even though she loved giving as well. |
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 23, 2011 19:51:16 GMT -5
Robyn looked down at the little crowd that had gathered before the stage wagon, eagerly awaiting what was next to come. Just now they had been entertained by Tybalt, her brother, playing with fire in the very meaning of the word, using the spores of the clubmoss plant spewed into the fire of a blazing torch to make it appear as if he actually breathed fire. Then he had ‘eaten’ the flame and ended the performance thus, leaving those who were new to the tricks and even those who had seen it before wide eyed with awe. But now they needed to calm down again, and that was why Robin had entered the stage.
She was now sitting on a chair, lute on her lap and tuned the strings, creating an air of anticipation amongst her listeners. After short consideration she intoned a cheery, fast melody that would lead to a rather bold and, in her eyes, funny song. It was not a song to be sung at a noble’s estate, as it held a light air of criticism towards them and was more suited to a crowd that could take a joke. Of course, even nobles might be able to laugh about themselves every once in a while, but neither Robyn nor her group was in any mood to take risks. Not now.
When the prelude ended, Robyn’s voice started to ring over the small village square with suprising force, but also tenderness. She knew she had a voice that captured an audience, and she would make the best use of that while she could.
”It was on a beautiful evening in May
Fa-la-la-la-dee-dah-dah-dah,
A lady was walking a lonesome way
Fah-la-la-la-dee-dah.
The king and his soldiers came riding along
Fa-la-la-la-dee-dah-dah-dah,
They’ve been away from home so long.
Fah-la-la-la-dee-dah.
She was young and fair
Fah-la-la-dah, fah-la-la-dee-dam
The bird’s were singing in the air
Fah-la-la-dah, fah-la-la-dee-dam.”
Like always, Robyn couldn’t keep a smile off her face as she was singing about the king’s obvious advances which the lady rebuked rather skillfully. Her fingers were rushing over the strings which sometimes seemed a little awkward as she had to compensate for her missing little finger, but she knew this song by heart and had practiced the fast sequences endlessly.
”… ‘so come with me to my castle grand!’
He smiled at her and he kissed her hand,
‘There’s one condition before I agree:
This thing between your legs I like to see!’”
Robyn could hear some shocked gasps and a few whistles coming from the crowd as they, as was intended, of course got the words of the maiden wrong, just like the king of the story himself would. Grinning even broader Robyn even inserted a little interlude too keep the audience guessing longer, if that what had been implied was really the message of this song and what would happen next.
Winking to no one in particular, Robyn then resumed the verse melody, and solved the riddle.
”The king, he blushed and dismounted his horse,
he wanted to take the lady by force.
She jumped upon his horse so quick,
He soon realized her insidious trick!
She was young and fair
The birds were singing in the air.
’Farewell, my king, you’re generous and fine.
What’s been between your legs is now between mine.
Farewell, my king, you’re generous and fine.
What’s been between your legs is now between mine.’”
Under the uproaring laughter of everyone within a radius of twenty metres, Robyn and a few other members of the Raven Pack ended the song with the now changed couplet:
”And then she went away
Over the hills and far away!”
Repeating these two lines a few times they ended on a chord and let the surge of applause and cheer wash over them like a refreshing gush of spring rain. Smiling broadly, Robyn stood up and bowed a few times, feeling as happy as she ever could be. She lived for these moments. Entertaining a crowd, getting them to laugh, to cry or to scream – this was her life!
The Song xD
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Post by Robyn Lester on Nov 16, 2011 19:51:17 GMT -5
 | ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name of Character:. Robyn Lester
.:Nick Name:. Rob, Mockingbird, Lady Justice
.:Age:. 19
.:Race:. Sugalen* (through her mother)
.:Status:. Nomad
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:. Robyn is deemed pretty by most, but not exceptionally beautiful. She has learned for stage to make her face and body appear in the best light possible, but once off the stage she is not very finicky about things like messed up hair, which usually falls in slightly frizzy curls down her back, held together by a leather thong or nothing at all. Her eyes are of a warm dark brown and usually sparkle with the spirit of enterprise. But as it happens sometimes with people when they are upset, the warmness can vanish from them so they then resemble scary dark tunnels that seem to suck you in if you dare to hold her gaze for too long.
Probably Robyn’s most striking feature is her missing little finger at her left hand. She lost it while standing up for one of her own, but she wears this disfigurement with pride. It gladly also doesn’t hinder her all too much, and sometimes she can even forget about it.
Clothe-wise, Robyn can be seen wearing usually threadbare skirts and tunics, things they make themselves out of cloth they are given by generous people or able to buy with the little money they get. Only for stage she has a few finer gowns, depending on the role she takes up. Sometimes you can also see her wearing trousers on stage, when she takes up a breeches part.
.:Height:. 5’7’’
.:Portrayed by:. Julia Stiles
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:. Robyn is very carefree most of the time, coming with her adventurous lifestyle, never staying too long in one place and living from what they show on the streets or on rare invitations to noble or even royal households. She can be a bit of a flirt, but after getting her young heart broken several times, she is now a little more careful on that department. That is one of the things she likes least of herself: she falls in love incredibly fast and often dreams of some figurative or real knight in shining armor taking her away on his white horse. But then, she is too carefree to suffer for long, and once she realizes her love is not returned, the deal is over for her.
Other than her carefree spirit, Robyn can get very fierce though if something is deemed unjust by her. She knows that as jugglers she and her band of friends have no rights at all, but that doesn’t stop her from insisting on some basic things. As a result, she does not really mind danger for her own self, should someone of her group be in trouble. It earned her the nickname ‘Lady Justice’, but it also cost her her little finger. Once you have become her friend and earned her trust, she will protect you with teeth and claws should the need arise.
That aside, it probably won’t save you from her sometimes very bold jibes and teasing. This is what she owns the nickname ‘Mockingbird’ to. If you ever show any weakness in front of her, you can bet she will tease you about it until the end of time, though she always tries to keep it all in good fun. She loves witty banters like nothing else, so if you feel up to that, feel free to challenge her at any given time!
.:Strengths:. - Singing
- Acting
- Reasoning
- Riding
- Sewing
.:Weaknesses:. - Children (threaten or hurt any child in her presence and she sees red)
- Afraid to be alone for too long
- She can be too bold for her own good
- Stubborn/Resentful (Once you made an enemy of her, it will be hard to persuade her otherwise)
.:Magic Abilities:. None
.:Special Skills:. - Juggling
- Rope dancing (though she still learns and sometimes falls)
- Stage combat
.:Accents:. Nothern English
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. In a wagon beside the road somewhere in Sugales
.:Family:. Mother: Lydia Lester (deceased), Father: unknown, Brother: Tybalt Lester (26)
.:Occupation:. Juggler/Actress
.:Current Location of Residence:. The box wagon with the Mockingbird on the rear wall
.:History:.
No good fortune seemed to shine down on Robyn even before she was born. Her mother, Lydia, the skilled dancer of the little juggler group who called themselves “The Raven Pack” (after their leader commonly known as “Raven”), let herself be seduced by an unknown soldier of fortune one fiery Beltaine night, which did not only leave her with child, but also laid the seed for a very serious illness: consumption. Both the unborn child and the illness sucked all her strength from her, and so the actual, complicated birth was too much for her weakened body. Lydia died in the same night, leaving the group with a motherless infant. It speaks for the team spirit of them all that they did not abandon the little worm, but raised it to their best abilities.
Ever since she can remember, Robyn knew nothing but the life on the road, and she couldn’t even imagine to live differently one day. From an early age, she was taught in various skills, but soon developed the most liking to the art of acting in little scene plays and juggling. For good measure she was also taught in rope dancing, but it has yet to become her forte.
As good plays that want to capture the audience often sport 'sword' (blunted weapons or made of wood altogether) or staff fights, Robyn also learned how to wield a weapon. However, stage fights only resemble real fights, but are not really comparable to them. Robyn's sole combatants are members of her group with whom she practiced the course of blows exchanged over and over again, and none of them are real trained fighters. She knows very well she would not stand a true chance against a soldier or a knight for more than a few moments, it might only be helpful in chasing off bandits.
The Raven Pack had always possessed a good reputation throughout Albion though Sugales*, where most of the members were born, had been their stronghold and ‘base’ for a long time. It was at a feast in the castle of Sugales* that Robyn’s carefree life suddenly was in serious peril. A headstrong, righteous girl of seventeen, she could not stand by and watch as one of her ‘family’, a little boy of ten, was being accused of stealing the purse of a knight. Robyn, seeing that the man had, in his drunken state, dropped his purse and little Alfie had just been stupid enough to pick it up to give it back while the others were performing. The knight demanded the hand of the thief, but Robyn, knowing Alfie to be a very promising juggler already, knew she could not allow this to happen.
Disregarding the pleading, desperate glances of her brother Tybalt, Robyn spoke up and demanded justice, as she had seen what happened. She hid Alfie behind her back as two soldiers wanted to take him away and even offered her own hand to be taken instead. The king, torn between admiration and annoyance about her boldness, and still egged on by his knight, agreed to a lessening of the punishment. He would let the “Raven Pack” leave without repercussions, if Robyn gave a finger as satisfaction for the attempted theft. As losing a finger was far better than losing a whole hand or letting Alfie suffer in her place, Robyn agreed to the bargain.
She lost a finger and could not use her hand for a whole month, but it earned her the gratitude and admiration of her family and friends, and that counted more to her than anything.
Now, two years later, Robyn has learned to live with the blemish of her appearance, and as it doesn’t hinder her much and is sometimes even easy to hide on stage, she doesn’t regret her decision.
The “Raven Pack” left Sugales* for good and started to explore the other kingdoms more, always looking out for feasts in castles or other opportunities to earn their living, Robyn amongst them, still headstrong, but now more aware of the danger she is in, in this world were jugglers live outside every law and order.
* I have been given permission from Celyn ap Llewelyn to use Sugales as the kingdom where this all happened
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