Reclaimed Property

Aimar wrote:It took him a while getting back, the festivities had taken long and he was glad he had gone, though he had missed his cousin and Aasha a lot more than he thought would have been possible...well I expected to miss Aasha, not Anne...he grinned at the thought of saying that to Anne and pictured her devil may care look as he turned towards his home.

He had not been living here but it had occurred to him only on his way back that he had forgotten all about the appointment he had made with that Jack fella'. His door was open when he got home, Pea was rolling in the grass and licking its coat clean alternately and the sight of Aimar probably did not interest her much since she looked up, eyed him and then decided her coat was more important, Mad at me, eh? he mumbled under his breath with an amused look on his face as he made for the door, Aa-- he was about to call out to her since she was the only one who knew Pea was here and he thought she must have let it out but she wasn't the figure standing in his kitchen facing away, ---uhh...wha'? he said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice as he eyed the back of the man with suspicion, My house...no one is going to have any claims on it even if I was not living here for a few days...he pepped himself into a little rage as he walked up into the kitchen...what are you doing in my house? he chewed on the my a little as he spoke...

Thomas of Looe wrote:Gah, but the man was quiet. Thomas hadn't heard him coming. He put his most convincing smile on his face and turned around slowly.

"Good day to ya, sir." Thomas tipped his hat. "Your hog's hanging out back. I's just bringing this wood in and heard that critter in the bedroom."

Thomas waited for the man to relax. From his first impression, Thomas expected him to be embarrassed that he had forgotten the appointment. This could certainly work out to his favor. Dinner? Maybe over at the Balboa place. Or maybe just another job for tomorrow.

Aimar wrote:Oh...ahh...well...thank you, said Aimar, no one had cut his wood for him before since he had left his fathers' home and it seemed odd that the man had actually thought that. Very considerate...poor bloke, he thought of how it must be a family man's second nature as Aimar clapped the man's arm lightly to assure him the sudden antagonism was not just gone from his tone but his heart too, He misses his wife and child probably...

I hope you found everything easily, my intention was to be here before you...all thwarted because I got a late invitation to a wedding out of town...he shrugged slightly, his arm noticeably was no longer in a sling . It was different, he thought of the wedding and he paused for a moment thinking about the sweeping motion...the swirl of the bride's dress and about Aasha...

As his momentary reverie broke as he took a deep breath and a smell other than the usual fresh air reached his nostrils, ugghh! he uttered and looked around for the source before he remembered he should probably pay the man first. Making a mental note to strangle the kitten as promised, he gestured for Thomas to take a seat and pulled his pouch out, counting out the wages with the look of a man who parted with his money after deliberation. Sixteen...hmm...the wood, he bit the inside of his lip to stop a sigh from escaping, he was still trying to get back on his feet after his accident, the losses had been more than just the weak right arm.

I am afraid I have not been living here recently, hence the... he gestured towards the unkempt look of the room, I cleaned it the day before he thought angrily, it was all because that silly cat decided everything was placed there for its entertainment, he smiled after an effort and added a coin to the sixteen, the look on his Thomas's face made him drop another and press the gold on to the man's hand before he could get the urge to add to the coins he was already parting with.

I am sorry I was not here when you got here, I hope you can forgive me for that..., he looked around distractedly for the source of the smell again as he tried to indicate he could offer no refreshments as he would have liked to, and thank you for letting Pea out...he sighed, there must be more than just 'pee' to go with the stench...I have to clean before I sleep... after the long journey, that was the last thing he had wanted to deal with...

Thomas of Looe wrote:The chair creaked as Thomas plopped himself into it, being a common laborer was, well, laborious. He pondered the blisters on his palm as Aimar dropped coins into his hand. Sixteen, seventeen and another. Eighteen. Great, a turnip with my bread and another night in the corner at the inn.

"Good name for your cat." Thomas watched the kitten dive at the fringe of the rug, roll over on its back and kick the offending strings with its back claws before bounding off again. "Arm's better, I see." Smalltalk never came easily to Thomas and he struggled for what to say next. He couldn't get out of here without another job or an invitation to come back tomorrow. It was apparent that Aimar himself didn't have much money, but Balboa, there was money there somewhere.

"Tell ya what, I ain't got nothin going on this week and you got more work that you can do around here with that arm. Two meals a day and a spot to sleep on the porch and I'll come back tomorrow." How could Aimar possibly refuse such an offer? It would be a rough couple of days, but he'd make it pay off.

Aimar wrote:Hmm?...ahh...alright...he was distractedly looking for the source of the smell while trying to keep it from being too obvious. Cleaning Pea's poo was not an inviting business, hmm...if you can keep the cottage clean, you can use it for two days...two days only though...then I am shifting back in so you will have to hunt for a place after that...alright? Two birds with one stone! he thought and bit back the grin that would surely have been indecent, he could help the man and get the cottage cleaned, his arm was already hurting.

Is that alright with you? It won't be hard to find a good cottage here, and I have pigs ready for slaughter, you can work all eight when they are ready, I don't mind, he had not even looked at the job the man had done on his first pig but...he will do fine, he did cut the wood too...Aimar smiled at the man, waiting for a reply; whether he agreed or not, Aimar just had to go see Aasha, and he was starving!

Thomas of Looe wrote:Two days was all the man had given him, two days to straighten the mess that damn critter made, two days to stew and wonder how the man became so tight. The cat was named right though, it took to peeing on Thomas's shoes on a regular basis. If he didn't need the money, and didn't know the Balboa name meant he'd get some, he'd have killed the mangy critter the first day. It had given him plenty of time to go through Aimar's things, but with so little here, there was nothing he could take for extra cash. Can't do that, things going missing would only make him suspicious.

The cottage looked a hell of a lot cleaner now than it had when he first walked in. Other people might be proud of their accomplishments, but not him. He only resented the lass more. None of this work was something he should have to do, these were the types of things she was for. Just wait till I get my hands on that lass. I know she's here somewhere, and I'll make sure she has nowhere to run.

But the cottage was small, so he had plenty of free time on his hands. Part was spent in the taverns, you never knew when someone might be feeling generous and share their rotgut. Part he spent looking for the girl, and making nice with Aimar. He even took to following the man, who knows, he was a Balboa. He should have contacts all over, he might even know her.

Thomas of Looe wrote:His luck finally changed, but not until after Aimar moved back into his house, forcing Thomas to hole up in a dingy room that cost him too much money. He'd gone over to slaughter the pig the next day. That's when he'd seen her walking over the bridge from the man's place. Well look at that, under my nose the whole time. I'll make her miserable before I take her home. She'll regret the day she ever left.

Following wouldn't be a good idea, but he knew where she was now, he could systematically destroy her life first. A menacing smile crossed his face, and for the first time in a long time, he enjoyed his work. Her face flashed in his head every time the knife sliced through the pig's flesh.

The satisfaction lingered long after he'd cleaned up and put the meat inside the man's house. Catching sight of her after dusk, he followed at a distance, and was shocked when she went to Aimar's cottage. What's that fool girl doing there? He stayed in the shadows and watched as they talked outside. He couldn't hear them from a distance, but could see affection between the pair. Something to use against him later...and her. A wicked smile crossed his face, his attention never leaving the couple.

That same smile faded quickly when he saw the kiss. Rage consumed him. That insolent pup thinks he can lay hands on my property? Trying to claim her for himself? No way, I won't stand for it. She's mine, and she damn sure better know it. Thoughts of slowly poisoning her relationships here were forgotten in his moment of madness, the only thing that consumed him was a desire to lash out. Had she been close, he could have easily taken satisfaction in kicking her repeatedly. Lucky for her she was not, and his rage was directed elsewhere, to this whelp of a man who'd dared to mess with something of his.

His eyes tracked Aimar back to the cottage. That idiot didn't even make sure the door latched proper. Eyes narrowed, Thomas stalked in, following him to the kitchen. Blinded by fury, consumed by fire, Thomas grabbed a pot and hit him, as hard as he could. "She's MINE, not yours! You stay away from her you idiot. Don't be touchin' my property!"

It wasn't until the body hit the ground that Thomas noticed the blood. Lots of blood, and the man lay unmoving on the floor. Everything he'd planned, everything he wanted, it could all be ruined by this one rash act of rage. You blew it! No, its that fool girl's fault, not mine. He'd covered one murder, another would be just as easy. Let her find him. Let her know she destroys everything she touches. She'll never find happiness, I'll make sure of it. A smear with a rag on the counter made it look more like an accident. He dropped the pot carelessly into the puddle of blood still forming, then walked out the door, leaving it ajar. I'll have to disappear for a while, but I'll be back, and when I do, she'll be sorry.

The__Rider wrote:The room was rank from the now dried gore. The body was gone, but its stench danced in the air with fumes from the lamp oil and pitch. The pallet and floor were soaked with the stuff. Blood mingled with oil and glistened anew, and the scents formed a new perfume. One that brought The Rider a terrible thrill.


He tossed a lit torch into the room and left for the bridge.


Behind him, the last of Aimar Balboa burned brightly in the night.

--The__Rider wrote:Messrs. ------------------,

I have found your misplaced property. However, I'm afraid the going rate has increased. Send your man to Ludlow on the 5th to discuss terms.

Your's in Jah,

Z

--Thomas_of_Looe wrote:Patience had never been Thomas strong suit. Disappearing was a necessity, not a choice, one he resented deeply. It wouldn’t do for her to see him before he was ready, he couldn’t afford to tip his hand. So he waited, staying hidden. Disappointed when she bounced back too quickly, the support she seemed to gain from friends showed a strength he was not happy with, one he was determined to destroy. It only firmed his resolve, she was undeserving of happiness, he would see to it that she remembered that. How dare she think otherwise! She is mine, I will make sure she never forgets.

The more Thomas thought of her newfound strength, the more enraged he became, until all he could see was her lying broken at his feet. A subtle word here, a whispered rumor there, and he watched with satisfaction as one by one the people she was close to fell away, chucked with glee at her losses. He was poised to strike after Tiffanyanne died, finally ready to destroy that which he couldn’t understand. Confident that her support system no longer existed.

The grim reality was that she bounced again, the wolf entering her life at the wrong moment, disappearing from his sight after that reception. He was kicking himself for not moving faster, he should have taken her before she arrived, not waited until it was over. By the time she reappeared in Shrewsbury later, he’d worked himself into a fine rage, wanting to act recklessly and kill her then. But he’d heard too much of this man with her, opportunities hadn’t arisen when she moved in with him. He couldn’t go up against Donnor directly, not trusting his strength in a direct confrontation. He could only follow and watch vigilantly, waiting for fate to intercede.

He thought he’d found his chance after the battle in Chester, even spent the last of his coins on an assassin. A colossal waste of money, the idiot had failed him. The couple escaped to Ireland before he had a chance to regroup and try again, Donnor regaining strength too quickly to suit him.

With barely two pence to rub together, clothing now ragged and stained, he was forced to sell his horse for passage on a ship. Thomas was livid, he would make her pay for these indignations. Forced to walk, his every step fueling a desire for revenge, he vowed anew to ruin the chit. To forcibly remind her who was boss, who she belonged to, who she owed her life to.

Yet he still hesitated, determination wouldn’t give him enough power to face her husband, Thomas never saw her alone. Finally, the break he needed so desperately was realized. He winced as he witnessed them kiss, the depth of his hatred and bitterness growing, reflecting clearly on his face. Sticking to shadows, he followed the couple until they split up, and evil grin crossing his lips. Rubbing his tongue across the jagged edge of his tooth, he followed until she was out of sight of the town. The road to the university empty in the early morning light.

The time he’d spent had not been without cause, he knew her habits, assured him of his own strength if he could get her alone. No one would expect her for hours, by then they would be long gone. The knife in his hand gleamed dull, his footsteps silent as his bulk stepped behind her. The blade drew tight against her neck, his other arm wrapping around her tightly. Fetid breath washed over her neck, cruelty rang in his whispered threat; You thought you could run from me? I own you girl. Don’t move, or it’ll be the last one you make.

--Thomas_of_Looe wrote:Even with his careful planning and the calculations he'd made on when her husband would come looking for her, Thomas was nervous. He ignored the blood dripping from her head, moving quickly, trying to put as much distance as he could from the point he took her. The head start may be all he had, he couldn't afford to slow down or stop until he had her hidden, the plans he made to punish her swimming in his head.

It was full dark when he finally slowed. She still hadn't stirred, he must have hit her harder than he had intended. He wanted her awake, aware when he began. The run down shack was well hidden, far enough away from any towns thatno screams would be heard. His eyes lit with malice when he threw her to the ground, the satisfaction at the thump her head made when it bounced on the wooden floor short lived. He was hungry and tired, forced to do too much work, and it was all because of her.

--Thomas_of_Looe wrote:His look was incredulous when he met her eyes. He couldn't believe the chit had the nerve to ask him why. Yer my property, told ya that long ago. You shouldn't have forgotten it. Ya left me having to do everything girl! You're lucky I don't just hand you over to the marshals and let them string you up for what you did. You had no right to give yourself to someone else. NO RIGHT! Throwing yourself at him like a cheap whore! I'm in charge, I'm your boss. Not him, not nobody else!

The kick was well placed, hitting the exact same spot his boot had landed only a moment before. He took satisfaction in the pain he saw flash upon her face. His other foot still on her hand meant she couldn't roll away from punishment, couldn't ball up and only present her back. He had lots of time to make up for, and planned on doing it, one sadistic moment at a time.