Philomel
05-16-15, 05:45 AM
Closed to Gemstone.
IMPORTANT OOC NOTE: This is set 11 months prior to the initial writing of this, back in time just as the Gilded Lily had first been born, prior to when it became an Informant Guild. At this time it was more or less called the Ladies' Guild Writing it with the lovely Gem <3
They called her "Miss." They called her "Madam." Hell, some even called her "My Lady," and that was good, so energising, so magnificent, so powerful .. but it still lacked. As the few women Philomel had brought around to her way of thinking - "freed" she called it - exonerated her, gathered around her, and smiled whenever she walked into their brothels, she couldn't help feel happy, yet distant at the same time. The whores, for that was what they were, thanked her duly, yet they spoke kind words and then left. Gifts were bestowed, a few heads bowed, but then they all would turn and get on with their lives. Philomel lifted them from the oppressive bonds of their pimps and patrons, that was the purpose, after all, of the Ladies' Guild, to bring about empowerment to otherwise lost souls.
But beyond that the faun-whore was useless. She had a few rooms in the Sultry Satyr, just a stone's throw away from the Fire Hall, the herbalist barn where her friend Mister Draak lived, but they weren't used much. Only her personal private clients came there, there was not the onrushing crowd of brothel wenches like Philomel had imagined, begging her to come and save them in exchange for their undying servitude. Instead there was just a peep from a girl every couple of days, who had heard that she "helped women" and needed help finding her lost cat.
So as she sat, depressed and lonely in the rough room she was forming into an office, with its hardy desk randomly angled and a group of mismatched chairs in the middle, Philomel realised she needed to up her game. Freeing whores from pimps was great, but as things proved, it would only get her so far. Only get her so much loyalty. And loyalty, the undying type from people like her constant lovers, was what she needed if she was going to truly break bonds and rise in power to a figure not dissimilar to that of a matriarch.
Which was a good word. Blinking, she sat up as it crossed through her mind, and she began to nod.
Matriarch Philomel. It was a good name. All she needed was an avenue to get to it.
"Right!"
She stood up, sharply. Veridian, her ever attentive beloved fox-form spirit companion sat up, startled from his nap on a chair. He watched with surprised curiousity as she crossed the room and grabbed a quill from the bundle at the desk. After dipping it messily in ink she began to write on a crushed piece of paper, scrawling a note of little neatness and great enthusiasm, before he yawned and she shouted.
"YES!" yelled she, and turned to him. She held out the papar roughly in front of her and he had to squint in an attempt to read the child-like script. 'The lords ...nipulate ... gala ...morrow' he could not read the rest. But she still bounded as he showed his bemusement.
"Don't you get it?" she said, "The lords! Tomorrow!"
Veridian huffed, before pulling himself up onto his haunches. He frowned a little, or as much of a frown as a fox face can, before padding his paws, raising his snout and making a mental connection to begin to ask her, What are you on about?
"Oh do catch up!" she yelled, but with a grin. "Tomorrow is the aristocratic gala, Veridian! I can easily get myself invited by one of the lords, maybe Junister in fact ... Hmmm ..." she turned, placed the paper down and began to scribble more words.
Why even write them down when she was going to just speak them, Veridiain did not know, but maybe it was to keep her plan, to remind herself of it later ... something. He admired her enthusiasm, but still was none the wiser. Nevertheless, he retreated his questions for now and let her continue to prance around the room on her eager goat legs. He was sure she would explain her plan later. Something about lords, something about the gala that was a gathering of all nobles in Radasanth tomorrow, something about -nipulating them. Perhaps manipulating?
He just sat back, and watched her get more and more excited. After all, it was rare he saw her with so much joy these days, and thus this time - he was happy.
IMPORTANT OOC NOTE: This is set 11 months prior to the initial writing of this, back in time just as the Gilded Lily had first been born, prior to when it became an Informant Guild. At this time it was more or less called the Ladies' Guild Writing it with the lovely Gem <3
They called her "Miss." They called her "Madam." Hell, some even called her "My Lady," and that was good, so energising, so magnificent, so powerful .. but it still lacked. As the few women Philomel had brought around to her way of thinking - "freed" she called it - exonerated her, gathered around her, and smiled whenever she walked into their brothels, she couldn't help feel happy, yet distant at the same time. The whores, for that was what they were, thanked her duly, yet they spoke kind words and then left. Gifts were bestowed, a few heads bowed, but then they all would turn and get on with their lives. Philomel lifted them from the oppressive bonds of their pimps and patrons, that was the purpose, after all, of the Ladies' Guild, to bring about empowerment to otherwise lost souls.
But beyond that the faun-whore was useless. She had a few rooms in the Sultry Satyr, just a stone's throw away from the Fire Hall, the herbalist barn where her friend Mister Draak lived, but they weren't used much. Only her personal private clients came there, there was not the onrushing crowd of brothel wenches like Philomel had imagined, begging her to come and save them in exchange for their undying servitude. Instead there was just a peep from a girl every couple of days, who had heard that she "helped women" and needed help finding her lost cat.
So as she sat, depressed and lonely in the rough room she was forming into an office, with its hardy desk randomly angled and a group of mismatched chairs in the middle, Philomel realised she needed to up her game. Freeing whores from pimps was great, but as things proved, it would only get her so far. Only get her so much loyalty. And loyalty, the undying type from people like her constant lovers, was what she needed if she was going to truly break bonds and rise in power to a figure not dissimilar to that of a matriarch.
Which was a good word. Blinking, she sat up as it crossed through her mind, and she began to nod.
Matriarch Philomel. It was a good name. All she needed was an avenue to get to it.
"Right!"
She stood up, sharply. Veridian, her ever attentive beloved fox-form spirit companion sat up, startled from his nap on a chair. He watched with surprised curiousity as she crossed the room and grabbed a quill from the bundle at the desk. After dipping it messily in ink she began to write on a crushed piece of paper, scrawling a note of little neatness and great enthusiasm, before he yawned and she shouted.
"YES!" yelled she, and turned to him. She held out the papar roughly in front of her and he had to squint in an attempt to read the child-like script. 'The lords ...nipulate ... gala ...morrow' he could not read the rest. But she still bounded as he showed his bemusement.
"Don't you get it?" she said, "The lords! Tomorrow!"
Veridian huffed, before pulling himself up onto his haunches. He frowned a little, or as much of a frown as a fox face can, before padding his paws, raising his snout and making a mental connection to begin to ask her, What are you on about?
"Oh do catch up!" she yelled, but with a grin. "Tomorrow is the aristocratic gala, Veridian! I can easily get myself invited by one of the lords, maybe Junister in fact ... Hmmm ..." she turned, placed the paper down and began to scribble more words.
Why even write them down when she was going to just speak them, Veridiain did not know, but maybe it was to keep her plan, to remind herself of it later ... something. He admired her enthusiasm, but still was none the wiser. Nevertheless, he retreated his questions for now and let her continue to prance around the room on her eager goat legs. He was sure she would explain her plan later. Something about lords, something about the gala that was a gathering of all nobles in Radasanth tomorrow, something about -nipulating them. Perhaps manipulating?
He just sat back, and watched her get more and more excited. After all, it was rare he saw her with so much joy these days, and thus this time - he was happy.