The Gingerbread House (All Welcome - Open Rp)

Started by Aislinn, July 28, 2013, 11:50:52 PM

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Forge

#550
It had been far too long since he had passed through these woods. Even with the fog and impending rain, he enjoyed being in the forest again. His cloak covered him and he knew that should the rain start the trail would lead him to the friendly house where there would be warmth and food.

As he walked, he wondered if there would be companionship there this day. Prior times, long ago he met fellow travelers there. He smiled to himself at the thought.

Stopping, he became aware of the aroma of wood smoke in the air. His trail was sure and the house was nearing. It pleased him to know that the arrival would be soon.

He walked on through the silent woods. The clearing presented itself through the trees and he knew that he would be there soon. Soon, the distinct outline of the roof was visible and he knew he was there.

Trying to see through the trees he saw what looked to be a horse and rider. The fog was thickening and he wasn't sure. He rubbed his eyes and looked again and then saw nothing but the house. Wondering if his eyes were deceiving him he walked on to the house.

The sky opened up and rain started to fall as he reached the door and opened it. The warmth and aroma of the house was welcoming to him. He walked in the familiar house glad to be back.
This could get messy.

Verasaille

Disappearing around the corner of the House, the rider stopped the stallion as she thought she heard a door open and close. Or was it her imagination? Myst shook his maned head and scattered drops of rain in every direction.  "Drat! Now it is raining and I do not see a shelter for you, Myst.  Though that large tree seems a little drier beneath its spreading branches. It will have to do."

Guiding the horse to the tree she dismounted and removed saddle and bridle to let him free to find shelter among the trees and to eat his fill of succulent grasses. The tack she set on a convenient log nearby and looked around. There seemed to be no one outside of the house and she did not want the leather to be ruined by the dampness. Carefully waving her gloved fingers over the log she whispered a subtle incantation. The fog disappated in an area of three feet around the log and simply seemed to cause the wetness to avoid the log and its burden. The saddle and bridle and her packs would remain dry and hidden from prying eyes.

The house seemed inviting and she walked to the door. She looked for a knocker or bell and saw none. Taking a shakey breath she knocked firmly. "I hope whoever lives here is friendly." she whispered mainly to herself. Her hood was still covering her head. The long grey cloak almost touching the ground as she stood there waiting. It startled her to find that the door and the decorations looked like candy. A brief frown gave way to a soft smile. It seemed to be impervious to the dampness. Whoever it was that lived there seemed to have magic as well. At least the House seemed to exude a quiet charm.
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Forge

No sooner than he had removed his wet cloak he heard a knock on the door. Perhaps it was the horse and rider he had seen, but he was unsure.

Unconsciously he looked down at his appearance. His brown tunic was dry as was his trousers. His well-worn leather boots showed the dampness from the grounds. He glanced around the quiet room. It seemed that he was the only one there. Although not his house, he knew it was open to all and any traveler would be welcome here.

With a firm grip on the doorknob, he turned it and opened the door. Standing there he saw a traveler wearing a hooded long cloak. The cloak was wet from the rain and surely she was looking for shelter.

His short, stocky frame and rough clothing belied his manner and the pleasure of seeing a fellow traveler, known or unknown. He had been alone throughout his journey and company would be welcome.

Looking at her he realized she was unknown to him and probably new in these parts. As he looked at her his face lit up with a smile, and he said, "Welcome. Come in out of the rain. You have found a safe and friendly place. I am glad you are here."
This could get messy.

Verasaille

Gloved hands clasped together in front of the long grey cloak. The clothing was finely tailored and looked damp but not soaked. An intricate silver clasp studded with sapphires held it closed at the neck.  The hood was open enough for him to see a  delicate featured face. Wine red lips curved in a soft smile.  Button nose flared slightly as she took a breath to speak. Eyes were of a silvery shade of blue green, they indicated curiousity and relief. "My thanks for the welcome. It is indeed chilly out here and wet. A dry shelter is all I seek, though some warm mulled wine and a bit of cheese would be welcome." Her voice was melodious and calm.

Waiting for him to step aside she walked into the house. Her movement graceful, her leather boots made a soft jingle as the spurs sang their presence. Her eyes took in the charming decorations and the quaint fireplace. Comfy chairs seemed to invite relaxation. Her gloved hands reached to pull back her hood, letting it rest on her back as she shook out her long dark brown hair. It hung in ringlets framing her delicate face. Turning to face him she gave a short respectful curtsey. "I am Yrwenial Whisperwind. Are you the owner of this quaint place? 'Tis very charming and welcome in these dark dreary woods."
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Forge

The glint of the fire on the jeweled silver clasp of her cloak drew his attention for only an instant. It was her eyes, though, that seemed to outshine the clasp. Her eyes held his attention even as she spoke. Her eyes seemed to him to be relieved to see someone here, yet wondering who he might be. Her delicate features and red lips seemed to accentuate her eyes and his enchantment of her.

"My thanks for the welcome. It is indeed chilly out here and wet. A dry shelter is all I seek, though some warm mulled wine and a bit of cheese would be welcome."

As she spoke, he heard no fear and the sound of her voice added to her beauty. He realized he was staring at her and quickly opened the door wordlessly inviting her in.

She passed him and walked into the room. He was aware of her spurs but his attention was drawn to her hair as she pulled back her hood. He saw her head shake and admired her hair. He saw her turn and curtsy and for a brief second he wondered if he should bow in return. He thought her to be of a much higher station in life than he would ever be. "I should be out tending her horse, not welcoming her at the door," he thought to himself.

While pondering his acceptable reply to her curtsy, she said, "I am Yrwenial Whisperwind. Are you the owner of this quaint place? 'Tis very charming and welcome in these dark dreary woods."

As she spoke he was aware that she had spoken to him at the door and he had not replied. This thought distracted him from what she was now saying and he caught only words in passing.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," he started hoping that he was somewhat responding to what she had said, "I have only arrived here minutes prior to your arrival. I have visited this house before and have always found the place hospitable. I would expect you would like some refreshment and if you would like to join me in the kitchen we can see what is here."

 

This could get messy.

Verasaille

The warmth of the room seemed enhanced by the gentleman who welcomed her in. He seemed a bit distracted as he followed her. Though she offered him a curtsey and her name, he did not offer his.

"Ah, then this is a travelers wayhouse then? It seems to be very well cared for.  Do I detect a bit of magical assistance then?" her eyes sparkled with amusement. Perhaps her skills would not cause alarm then, as it did in other lands. With a deliberate casual air she undid the clasp at her neck and let the cloak fall open to reveal her chaste gown of pale lavender.  Fitted to her with care and elegance it had only a few bits of lace at her throat and tightly cinched at the waist with a matching belt with silver buckle. The skirt was full at first glance, but revealed to be split in the center as she walked to the wall where hooks would be attached to the wall for cloaks to be hung. The sleeves on her gown were long and flared at the wrist.

Hanging her cloak up she had her back to him a moment and he might note the long row of pearls fastening her gown. Removing her gloves to let her long elegant fingers run briefly through her hair she sighed. "I hope the weather clears soon. The dampness only makes my curls spiral in such a tangle!" Her voice a mixture of vexation and amusement.

He had mentioned a kitchen and she followed him to see what could be found.  She was a bit hungry and thirsty, though not overly so. The kitchen seemed to have many shelves and cupboards. A kettle was on the stove steaming slightly. Rows of spices lined a rack over the stove and the air seemed familiar in a homey way. Bottles of wine rested in a rack and glasses nearby hanging from their stems upside down on a rail made for them by some ingenius craftsman.

She glanced at him curiously. Who was he? Though plainly clothed he seemed a gentleman in manner. She smiled to encourage him to speak. Her wine red lips slightly open to show a flash of pearly white teeth. The chairs in the kitchen seemed to invite one to sit and relax, so she did.
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

LXXIII

A pleasant, woody and gently spicy smell made Lexa's stomach growl. She had followed the smell to a gingerbread house, one that looked very inviting. Ignoring any possible prior warnings she'd gotten regarding such houses, it seemed like a good idea to peek into one of the windows. She peered in, ducked away, and then looked again, more slowly. What this would accomplish she hadn't really thought out, but for some reason she wanted to scout it out a bit. She hoped she didn't look too suspicious as she made her way to the different windows she could reach, peering in and ducking away as best she could. "I'm not being mischievous" she thought. "I'm just being... cautious. Yes that's it. Not nosy. Cautious."

Verasaille

The house seemed quiet, a nice respite from her travels. She made spiced tea and sipped it as she gazed out the window. It looked like it might clear up soon as the clouds drifted away. Such a pretty fall day, the air crisp with fall and the house warm and cozy.

Vera wondered if she would get any more company. The trail was difficult to find and the little Gingerbread House was out of the way of the well traveled paths. Briefly she remembered a poem from some famous poet long ago.

The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

SilverWing

A flutter of wings followed by a shriek in the sky signalled the flight of a beautiful bird. But not just any bird, this was a hawk. The hawk soared and circled with purpose. Silver like colour glinted off its wings as it soared.

Suddenly the creature dived into the trees, one would assume for food. Instead it landed gracefully on the branch of a large tree. The hawk cocked its head to one side and seemed to be observing a building. It looked like a large home. Perhaps an inn of sorts? Whatever it was, the place seemed quite hospitable! For at least an hour the winged creature watched the place, moving from perch to perch. Curiously enough, none of the smaller animals present seemed concerned by the presence of the hawk! With one great flap of its wings, the bird landed peacefully on a window sill. Its eyes looked into the warm amber glow of the house.  The hawk seemed to be pondering something, if animals could ponder at all.

Stretching its wings, the creature took flight once more. The hawk soared high into the sky and then dove into another area of the forest. It disappeared into the greenery of the trees with a shriek…

Several hours later a woman appeared before the house. She had long dishevelled mahogany coloured hair, though one would have difficulty noticing it. This woman was covered head to toe in mud, dust and leaves. To an observer it would seem like she had been trekking through the forest for days which was exactly the case!

The smell of home and hearth coming from this house made her stomach rumble angrily. With a worried grimace the woman put a hand to her stomach.  “Right you can do this. You have no money and look like you were dragged through the mud…but you can do this.” Mustering her courage, the woman hated asking for help, she walked up to the door. There she hesitated once more, took a deep breath then knocked three times.

Verasaille

The knock startled her and she got up to walk gracefully to the door. The house was open for anyone who needed a respite in this world. Warm and cozy, it seemed to be made of candy! Though perhaps that was just an illusion.

Vera opened the door and smiled. "Come in! This house is such a cozy place, you are welcome here." she stepped back and allowed the woman to enter. The smell of spice filled the air. A fire burned in the small fireplace. Comfy chairs were in front of the fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, soft light came from lamps on tables. There was a kitchen area with a small stove and a kettle steamed on it, hot but not boiling.

On a table in the kitchen a tray of gingerbread cookies took the center. The small icebox had cold milk and cheese wrapped to stay fresh.

Vera curtsied to the lady, "I am Verasaille. Please join me for some tea and cookies?"
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Tinkertoy

There was a flash of crimson streaking through the heavily wooded area that surrounded the house. Small feet clad in canvas Converse high-tops bounded over puddles and dodged the lower branches of the ancient trees, the scarlet feet dashed with a sincerity that could only belong to that of a prey animal. Long plumed breaths of crystallized carbon dioxide roared from her mouth as her hooded head intermittently peeked over her shoulder to make sure the beast chasing her was gaining less ground than she was.

Pale blue eyes creased into crescents as the forest opened up to the clearing that held the house and a smile of victory smeared across her alabaster pale features. It was close, so very close and she was going to make it.

Two women were conversing on the doorstep of the house, but she couldn't risk the frivolities of pleasantries and squirmed past both of them to find the sanctuary within. her back pressed against one wall and her topaz eyes were wild with an exhilaration and fear, "Whoah...close call. I'd kinda recommend closing the door...he;s not too fare behind and man, oh man, he is a bug 'un!"

I only wanna be your self-inflicted wound.
It sees you, baby. The friction between me and you.
Show me what makes you human, I'll show you vulnerable.
You bend, you break, you surrender and melt like solid gold.

InsertWittyNameHere

#561
His lips curled in a primal sneer of lust and rage. For too long he had been denied and tonight he would taste his desire. The ground seemed to shake beneath his feet, flared nostrils smelling the girl's trail.  The stench of freshly disturbed rotting leaves paved his path to her hiding place. The beast's midnight black fur almost appearing as a mane of rage as it roared into the darkness before galloping onwards.

Tree limbs older than the beast itself snapped like rotting twigs beneath its advance, claws scarring the ground as only an apex predator could. It's prey was gaining ground and if the beast was to have its catch then the pace must be quickened.

Fire red eyes pierced the darkness, the sight of the house in the near distance eliciting a smirk of hunger from the wolf before it launched itself at the frail wooden door. The old wood splintered into a thousand pieces, the frame shattering as its shoulders pushed them aside from sheer force of will. The air itself visibly trembled at the roar unleashed, the beasts hair shuddering in fury.

Oreo

Please be careful with violence. This is a PG13 area. Thank you.

She led me to safety in a forest of green, and showed my stale eyes some sights never seen.
She spins magic and moonlight in her meadows and streams, and seeks deep inside me,
and touches my dreams. - Harry Chapin

Valaesin

The cloak hid most of his features, but it also was easily necessary given the rain and cold outside as he stepped through the portal that led from the rather annoying chilled rain to the warmth of the Gingerbread House.  Pulling the cowl down and smiling as he gave the cloak to be hung to dry, he ordered a nice tea and settled into the hearth to warm his body, startled by the sudden voice of warning.  "Well, seems like my kind of place..." he laughed as it faded, scanning the room and sipping at his tea.

Verasaille

Curled into a comfy chair near the crackling fire, Vera ignores the vile creature as the House goes into self defense mode and boots it out. The door is restored and the house is once more safe and secure.

Her book is set down as she smiles at the newcomer. "You picked a strange way to enter. Though I suppose anything is possible here. It is a safe refuge after all."

Her voice is soft and yet musical. Her russet hair flows down her shoulders and she is covered in a modest gown of blue. Her sparkling blue eyes look over the stranger with interest.
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Valaesin

"Portals" he says, slightly amused that someone cared enough to notice, "Sometimes the quickly way to get somewhere is to just go, skipping all that space inbetween.  Especially when it rains," he laughed, standing and approaching her, offering his hand to take hers to kiss the back of it. "My name is Valaesin, my dear, nice to meet you," he offered, in polite tones that betrayed his training.  He had the look and stature of someone who had learned how to stand and influence people, maybe even lie, although the twinkle in his eye was reassuring that it was not truly a part of him to lie.  His brown hair was cut short and neatly and the leftovers of an unshaved beard was the only sign that he might have been able to slack off in the last few days.  "Tell me about yourself, perhaps your name, Blue."

Verasaille

The polite gentleman made an impression on the young woman. "You may call me Vera. And you?" her blue eyes sparkle. Her hand is soft and well manicured.

There is another chair where he may sit, and Vera politely indicates, "Please sit and tell me of yourself. This place has refreshments if you desire. I think a decided bend towards warm and comforting."

Her own cup of spiced wine seems to have refilled itself and is steaming on a small table next to her within easy reach. Delicious cookies and other treats appear on the table as well. Vera helps herself to some Baklava, the honeyed treat causing her lips to become smeared with the sweet decadence. She licks it off and smiles.
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Valaesin

He smiled as he took the seat she gestured to, "Very nice to meet you Vera, my name is Valaesin," he replied, doing his best not to smirk at her asking the same question twice.  Maybe he looked better in a beard than he had given himself credit for... "Warm and comforting is nice when back home is cold and wet.  Not that I've been there in a while, traveling for work is nice, but often times having your own bed is nice."  Finishing off his tea, he called a waitress over and politely asked for what she was having.    "So what do you do for a living?" he asked, leaning on his elbow - his grandmother would be so angry at them being on the table - and looking genuinely interested in the conversation.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
OOC: My college sweetheart was named Vera, in all honesty.  That's a long, good, but sad ending of a story.

Verasaille

Vera grinned. "Nice to meet you Valaesin. What do I do? Well, I guess the easiest way to put it is I am a storyteller. A writer, sometimes a Bard, sometimes a Seer. Whatever the situation calls for. I am quite adaptable."

Brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, "I like to think I am an entertainer of sorts. What about you?" she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say.
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Valaesin

"A storyteller?" I ask as the waitress delivers my drink, chuckling to myself, "I guess I'm something of a storyteller too.  A sophist, if you might, in the traditional sense.  Not that I'm deceitful, its that I use language and rhetoric to help my clients.  Sometimes they are more... story than truth, but I try to  keep a good kernel in there.  At least I hope," I smile, watching the hair move, "Too often, though, I get stuck doing the rather mundane aspects of any job, in my case mindless written drivel that only another of my type could enjoy.  But it does lead to some rather fantastical revelations when you discover a secret and use it yourself," I smile, flicking my wrist and slightly warming my drink more to my liking.  "Maybe I should just call myself a philsopher and seeker of knowledge.  Or is that too grand to claim on my own?"

Verasaille

Smiling as she sipped her mulled wine, Vera nodded. "There are ways of giving out knowledge that can manipulate the truth without destroying it. I would never tell a falsehood knowingly. A Seeker you shall be known as then. A noble title, and yet humble. For as you seek you acknowledge you do not know everything."

The plate of treats on the table became one of festive cookies with decorations for the coming Holiday. Vera glanced at the plate and then at a blank space in the corner. "You know, we should decorate this place. The Holiday gives us an excuse. I wonder if anyone will bring us a tree? Or there may be one just outside that will do. I will be glad to seek out decorations to use. There might be some in that closet there. Do you think anyone would mind?"
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Valaesin

Gracious about the compliment, it still seem that he's not entirely comfortable taking them.  But he lets it pass and instead becomes focused on the idea of decorating.  "I'd love to help and I don't think anyone would mind.  There might be a fake tree somewhere in here, but since I was a child I preferred the real thing.  We could go out and see if there's a good one we could drag back?  So long as we can find an ax, I have a feeling using a fork," he says, lifting the silverware toward her playfully, "Would take us until next year to get it down..."

Verasaille

Although Vera is not sure how she knows, a conspiratorial grin lights up her face. "I think I saw a tree just off the path in the back. There was an ax in the tree stump next to the woodpile. Come on, I will help. We can bring more wood in for the fireplace too. Maybe I can find some natural decorations in the woods."

She gets up and gets her cloak. Heading for the backdoor out the kitchen. It is a lovely fall day and she spies some ever greens she can clip with the shears hanging on a hook by the back door. "It will be nice to have the smell of evergreens inside the house. I think that nice tree over there would be great!" Pointing to a six foot tall perfectly balanced blue spruce tree in sight of the house.
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.

Valaesin

Following out behind her, he splits off long enough to grab the axe, hiking it over his shoulder before pulling the cloak tighter around him.  "Let me guess, I get to cut it down to prove my manliness, correct?" he pitched, nodding at her choice before glancing at the others to be sure.  Hefting it, slowly walking to the tree while giving a few practice swings, he glanced back at Vera, "You sure this one?  Last thing I want to do is cut down multiple trees..."

Verasaille

#574
Laughing at Valaesin, Vera nods. "It's the only one that looks good. I wonder if we will get help decorating it? Make sure to walk all the way around it, see if the other side is just as full and nice looking."

She begins trimming a few holly bushes and puts the trimmings in a basket she has found by the door. She next trims a few juniper bushes and some grape vines that have dried enough to make nice wreaths.

"How are you doing, my friend? That tree isn't giving you any trouble is it?" she grins at him.

I saw this in a magazine, maybe we can decorate the tree like this?

http://decoration0.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/decor732.jpg
I have gone off in search of myself. If I should get back before I return, please keep me here.