Post by Dacey Mormont on Aug 9, 2012 11:43:09 GMT -5
Character Information
Character Name: ----Dacey Alerie Mormont
Gender: ----Female
Character House ----Mormont
Alignment: ----She is a Stark bannerwoman.
Character Appearance ----
Character's Goals: ----
-Justice for the Starks and the North
-To prove herself as a warrior
-Remove Joffrey from the throne
Character History: ----All of Dacey's life she has been working toward something. Perhaps she hadn’t always known what it was, and perhaps at times she did. But it was always changing, evolving and growing, and finally her mother had to tell her that it was ambition that made her feel so. When she was just five years old, Dacey can clearly remember pushing the stool in the kitchen right up against the cupboards and standing on tippy-toes to watch her mother carefully measure out ingredients for her famous baking. Dacey never expressed much interest in the actual process, but watching her mother’s hands at work was a comfort, and often she got to lick the spoons after. And for the most part this small memory was more or less forgotten, as memories often do when they are deemed unimportant in lieu of other pressing matters. But it is the things of mornings spent baking, and reading the evening paper with her father in his study that make them still alive in her heart -- as terribly cheesy this all sounds.
Her ambition at this period of her life, was to prove herself to her parents that she was old enough to stay up past her bedtime to indulge in swordplay. Of course this never worked, as by the time the 9 o’clock rolled around she was already curled asleep somewhere in the training yard and had to be carried to bed. By the time she was eleven Dacey was determined to follow in her father’s footsteps and become as fierce a warrior as she could. she faced her first disappointment when she first picked up a long sword and nearly toppled over due to the weight.
It was only a matter of time before things changed. And oh how much can happen in a month’s time for an eleven year old. First, Dacey had begun her growth spurt, and she soon towered over her mother. Dacey currently stands at around 6 to 6 and a half inches, and she may grow taller still. It was in this time period that she had inadvertently made her first friend, a mousy sort of boy who liked to pretend he wasn’t looking at her when she could feel his eyes, and would follow her about until she cornered him and demanded to know what he was doing. “It’s just, I don’t see you with anyone else, yeah? And well...I’m a bit of an outcast meself. I figure we stick together.â€
“I don’t need your protection. And I am certainly not an outcast.†she spat
“No, but I need yours.†he said, timidly.
She ignored the boy at all costs, even went out of her way to avoid him. But it was a hard thing to do, given he lived in the same town. Eventually his shadowing presence became second nature, and eventually she slowed her step so that they could walk side by side. This proved to be all it takes to gain the unwanted attentions of two older children. Two 13 year olds found them one day near the forest, and with a quick swipe had knocked their books to the ground then kicked them beyond reach. The boy, stupidly, tried to defend himself, but his voice squeaked too much and this only gave ammo to the assault, and he was promptly punched in the gut. Without a moment's hesitation, Dacey had slipped out her dagger (a small thing, but still an advantage) and had it at the boys throat, commanding him to get off the smaller boy. As she had him pinned, the boy called off the "assault" and the pair ran away yelping and swearing revenge.
Dacey earned her first spanking for that unladylike stunt.
By her thirteenth year the bullying of her friend, and now herself because she was associated with him, became intensified, and yet she regarded it with more boredom than serious worry. Girls her age were more concerned with how she dressed and who she hung out with, while the boys liked to call her ugly and tangle things into her hair. It soon became so much of a problem that even her parents were starting to take notice and kindly asked if they required her assistance in the matter. “Thank you, but no,†she answered simply. “I can take care of myself.†Which resulted in the concoction of the most sticky substance she could mix at the time and proceeding to dump it over the boy’s head from a floor up, and watch as they had to chop the mess out.
It wasn’t until her fifteenth year that she started seriously considering a career path. Up until then she had been obsessed with learning how to fight with a longsword and throwing axes as much as possible and never had a moments chance to consider what it was she wanted to do with all this knowledge, and the amount of skill and strength she had developed with her training. The topic of war was starting to spread through the North, as more of a general discussion than actual fact, but it was prominent enough to worry people.
At the first moment she was signing up to Fight along Robb Stark in his decision to go to war with the Lannisters. The soldier whom she signed up with flat out laughed in her face when she walked through the door, this tall and skinny girl who looked to be dazed and terribly out of place amongst the young strapping lads he had seen come through the door prior. This isn’t easy work,†he warned. To which she proudly raised her chin and chimed, “Then it’ll be worth it.†The soldier sparred with her in the yard, and months of training was a disturbing deja-vu of her first time being bullied, and it was then she knew she would constantly move through life having to prove herself. And prove herself she did, although it was no easy feat as he promised. Most nights she sank herself into an ice bath, biting down cries into a towel as bruises and broken noses and wounds became an everyday part of her life. She woke at the crack of dawn and stumbled into bed well into half of the night. She ran, she honed her reflexes, she trusted her gut instinct, and she practiced, practiced, practiced until she was able to take on five men at once and defeat them all.
Dacey is currently traveling with Robb stark and a group of knights, wherever they need to go, her sword is sworn to him.
Character Personality: ---- the thinker
Many people often thought of Dacey as prudent. After all, she never took part in any of the girl’s gossip sessions, and she often gave reply through a steady stare instead of words. Sometimes her silence was so stifling it drove people away all together, and sometimes, only sometimes, she did so on purpose. Because above all else, Dacey is a thinker. Trapped in her own head and bundled in her precise moral code, she does not allow room for second-guessed answers or wasted air. Conversations are held for a specific purpose, and she is stubborn to figure it out before her initial greeting. And it does make her annoying, especially when she lets the silence seep into every crack until it becomes unbearable to stick around for much longer. Unresponsive, aloof, and stupid are some of the many words people used against her, and in turn, Dacey could dish out quite her fair share of vocabulary pertaining to those so quick to judge.
However, the most peculiar thing about Dacey is her often-times blatant disregard for what is considered ‘social norm’. She is unafraid to speak out when no one else will, to push the least popular vote even if it is the right one. She won’t shy away from being the bad guy if that’s what the situation calls for, and her tough exterior can deliver these verbal blows like a slap to the face. In fact, if anyone really bothered to ask, Dacey would have to say that people simply fascinate her. Their reactions, their lies, their body language, and their stories are all relative, and often she is found with her head tipped to one side, studying these individuals to pinpoint what exactly makes up their character. To figure out why they do the things they do, and perhaps mimic it similarly for when she ventures out into the world.This trait of hers, this simple step in taking the time to fully assess a situation caused Dacey to stand out amongst her peers during the intensive training. When the proverbial shit hit the fan, Dacey proved herself to be calm, cool, and collected in the face of stress.
-----the sarcastic
Eventually at some point in her life, Dacey was forced to interact with other people. And while she may have done her best to prevent it, society claims to have a need to bring people together despite her stance on the matter. And people were so strange to her too. In fact, Dacey found it difficult to really relate to most people and their problems, simply because they were problems she never faced herself. The only area she feels comfortable conversing in is in direct relation to books, current events, and various war strategics, and only because her mind is so deftly trained in retaining facts and dates.
Sarcasm. What was at the time a rare moment in her mouth moving before the thought formulated in her head, gained a few chuckles from those who shared her space. And what a funny thing it did to Dacey, it surprised her. How was she supposed to know that all this time, if she said one thing that obviously implied the other, she would get such a warm welcome? How much easier everything would have been if someone had informed her on this perfect little secret to success earlier. And at first she only used it occasionally, for times when the tension was palpable or the silence unnecessary. But then, she began to use it all the time. In fact, anytime in where she wasn’t holding an intellectual conversation concerning any number of tasks at hand, Dacey reverted herself to sarcasm. It was so interesting to watch how people reacted, and in turn how accepted it made her feel. Accepted! Like she belonged! Oh, Gods, if only she had known just how easy it really was to trick people into thinking she was one of them. So much time could have been saved.
Family Members or Important People: ----mother= Maege Mormont
Father= Merrick Snow
Sisters: Lyra, Alysane, Jorelle, Lyanna
Cousin: Jorah Mormont
Other Information
Do you have another character with us? naw
How did you find us? RPGD
RP Style: ----Um, multi-paragraph I think.
RP Sample: ---- Dorcas couldn’t believe the face she saw in the mirror. Automatically her hand flew to her hair, eagerly sinking her fingers into the severed ends and curiously it all felt foreign. She didn’t recognize the girl looking back at her, those eyes wide in silent awe at how a simple change in hairstyle transformed her entire existence. She had just been herself not a moment ago, the same Dorcas she always saw in the mirror. Hair so long it touched the hem of her shirt, and color so fair it nearly washed out her entire face. But she had always liked that about herself, because it served as the perfect platform for fading into the background. She was utterly unmemorable, and she had built her entire psychology around it. But now things were different.
The stark black was the most shocking of it all, so dark it sucked the light out of the air and killed it on the spot. And its length was such that she never in a million years thought she could pull it off. Dorcas stared at herself, and thought she looked almost stunning. Not in a glamorous way, but simply in terms of contrast. This hair made her stand out and caused her heart to beat erratically . The eyes in the mirror showed someone else, someone who held a great deal more confidence than the long hair version. Confidence to want to be noticed. To purposefully draw eyes toward her and make some sort of statement.
She hardly thought long about banging on Thomas’ door so late at night.
It opened to the smell of herbs and good wine drifting over her face, only to be filled with the face of her instructor who was very confused indeed about her being there. Then his eyes went to her hair. They widened considerably, with a short burst of air that sounded a lot like disbelief.
“Holy shit,†he uttered, perfectly frozen and content with just staring at her. Dorcas bristled, literally feeling his gaze as it trailed over every inch of her, and it felt like the most humiliating thing of her life.
“May I come in?†she asked. He nodded, idly moving to the side without dropping his gape much to her growing annoyance. He shut the door promptly and turned to fold his arms, and thankfully the look of startlement was wiped from his expression. It was quickly replaced with his usual calm demeanour and inquisitive glances most often found in his lessons. “I see you’ve been working on your spells,†he remarked casually, then moved without further invitation into his home toward his kitchen. Dorcas had no choice but to follow at a far distance.
“Yes,†she answered hollowly, taking in her surroundings with the similar attention to detail one would associate with someone who was looking for something. Anything out of the ordinary. “Thought you might like to see my progress.â€
Thomas had disappeared behind open cupboards, and she noted that he seemed to be in the middle of making himself some supper. A pot boiled away on the stove, and he was in the process of pulling warmed baguette's out of the oven, the scent of garlic warming her tongue with fragrance. “I must congratulate you, it usually takes the guys a couple more weeks until they get beyond the initial change in length. You look good with dark hair, I might add.â€
Dorcas bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t accustomed to such open statements concerning her appearance. In fact she was rather used to negativity being thrown her way that it shocked her dumb when something nice was even offered in her direction. She found she didn’t know what to do in a situation like this, so she opted for silence and turned away. Instead she found herself being drawn to the shelves of his personal library resting in the corner. His collection held the works of several that lined her own, however it looked not to been touched for a while given by the state of the dust. She pulled out his worn copy of Fahrenheit 451, running her fingers over the cracked spine and battered cover. It felt well loved, which mirrored the state of her own at home.
Thomas returned into his main living area, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to disturb you during dinner,†she clarified quietly, focussing her efforts on returning the novel back to its rightful place. “I’ll go.†She turned then and made her way back for the door, pausing beside him -- although felt too strange to lift her eyes, so they remained trained somewhere in front of her feet. Suddenly she felt a hand on her head, and a set of fingers idly messing up her hair. She started, eyes snapping to attention on his face and taking in how he petted her like she was some sort of pet. Without a second to think, Dorcas pushed herself up onto her toes and kissed him. He stilled beneath her touch, his hand falling away. She pressed herself closer against his body, feeling the heat he gave off and the firm muscle beneath his shirt. She fitted his bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a bite to coax him into a response, yet he remained still and inhaled sharply. A gentle pressure pushed her away by the hip, and she stared at him imploringly, wondering if she was perhaps doing this seducing thing all wrong.
“Dorcas, I--â€
“It’s all right,†she shrugged and took a step back while removing her coat. She dropped it to the ground and grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting it off over her head and letting it join the coat. She stood in front of him clad in her bra, and felt defiant. “I want you to touch me.†It was a demand, and as she closed the space between them again she lifted his hand and placed it over her breast. His fingertips sent sparks racing through her skin, and cautiously they shifted an inch. Dorcas grabbed him and kissed harder this time around, sliding her body right up against his while guiding his other hand to other areas of her body. He made a sound of protest and pushed her off once more.
“I don’t feel this way about you,†he stated calmly, although his eyes held a certain amount of panic. “I’m truly sorry if I ever gave you the impression, but Dorcas...I’m your instructor!†He stepped back twice, leaving an open wound between them that made her feel more and more vulnerable. “Nothing is going to happen between us.â€
Dorcas watched him intently, searching for all the signs that might tell her a different story. But she couldn’t find them, just like she couldn’t find what it was she was first looking for when she entered his flat. Some semblance of deeper emotion. The sudden overwhelming sense of shame made her eyes heavy and she picked up her discarded clothing at her feet. Her fingers fumbled with the fabric as it was all pulled back on, the entire time Thomas was unable to look at her though she spared many glances at him. Tightening her hold on her coat across her chest, she moved quickly past him and out the door. When she was halfway down the hall she heard the lock bolt into place.
Read more: winteriscomingrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=join&action=display&thread=17#ixzz234DLpkSV
Character Name: ----Dacey Alerie Mormont
Gender: ----Female
Character House ----Mormont
Alignment: ----She is a Stark bannerwoman.
Character Appearance ----
Character's Goals: ----
-Justice for the Starks and the North
-To prove herself as a warrior
-Remove Joffrey from the throne
Character History: ----All of Dacey's life she has been working toward something. Perhaps she hadn’t always known what it was, and perhaps at times she did. But it was always changing, evolving and growing, and finally her mother had to tell her that it was ambition that made her feel so. When she was just five years old, Dacey can clearly remember pushing the stool in the kitchen right up against the cupboards and standing on tippy-toes to watch her mother carefully measure out ingredients for her famous baking. Dacey never expressed much interest in the actual process, but watching her mother’s hands at work was a comfort, and often she got to lick the spoons after. And for the most part this small memory was more or less forgotten, as memories often do when they are deemed unimportant in lieu of other pressing matters. But it is the things of mornings spent baking, and reading the evening paper with her father in his study that make them still alive in her heart -- as terribly cheesy this all sounds.
Her ambition at this period of her life, was to prove herself to her parents that she was old enough to stay up past her bedtime to indulge in swordplay. Of course this never worked, as by the time the 9 o’clock rolled around she was already curled asleep somewhere in the training yard and had to be carried to bed. By the time she was eleven Dacey was determined to follow in her father’s footsteps and become as fierce a warrior as she could. she faced her first disappointment when she first picked up a long sword and nearly toppled over due to the weight.
It was only a matter of time before things changed. And oh how much can happen in a month’s time for an eleven year old. First, Dacey had begun her growth spurt, and she soon towered over her mother. Dacey currently stands at around 6 to 6 and a half inches, and she may grow taller still. It was in this time period that she had inadvertently made her first friend, a mousy sort of boy who liked to pretend he wasn’t looking at her when she could feel his eyes, and would follow her about until she cornered him and demanded to know what he was doing. “It’s just, I don’t see you with anyone else, yeah? And well...I’m a bit of an outcast meself. I figure we stick together.â€
“I don’t need your protection. And I am certainly not an outcast.†she spat
“No, but I need yours.†he said, timidly.
She ignored the boy at all costs, even went out of her way to avoid him. But it was a hard thing to do, given he lived in the same town. Eventually his shadowing presence became second nature, and eventually she slowed her step so that they could walk side by side. This proved to be all it takes to gain the unwanted attentions of two older children. Two 13 year olds found them one day near the forest, and with a quick swipe had knocked their books to the ground then kicked them beyond reach. The boy, stupidly, tried to defend himself, but his voice squeaked too much and this only gave ammo to the assault, and he was promptly punched in the gut. Without a moment's hesitation, Dacey had slipped out her dagger (a small thing, but still an advantage) and had it at the boys throat, commanding him to get off the smaller boy. As she had him pinned, the boy called off the "assault" and the pair ran away yelping and swearing revenge.
Dacey earned her first spanking for that unladylike stunt.
By her thirteenth year the bullying of her friend, and now herself because she was associated with him, became intensified, and yet she regarded it with more boredom than serious worry. Girls her age were more concerned with how she dressed and who she hung out with, while the boys liked to call her ugly and tangle things into her hair. It soon became so much of a problem that even her parents were starting to take notice and kindly asked if they required her assistance in the matter. “Thank you, but no,†she answered simply. “I can take care of myself.†Which resulted in the concoction of the most sticky substance she could mix at the time and proceeding to dump it over the boy’s head from a floor up, and watch as they had to chop the mess out.
It wasn’t until her fifteenth year that she started seriously considering a career path. Up until then she had been obsessed with learning how to fight with a longsword and throwing axes as much as possible and never had a moments chance to consider what it was she wanted to do with all this knowledge, and the amount of skill and strength she had developed with her training. The topic of war was starting to spread through the North, as more of a general discussion than actual fact, but it was prominent enough to worry people.
At the first moment she was signing up to Fight along Robb Stark in his decision to go to war with the Lannisters. The soldier whom she signed up with flat out laughed in her face when she walked through the door, this tall and skinny girl who looked to be dazed and terribly out of place amongst the young strapping lads he had seen come through the door prior. This isn’t easy work,†he warned. To which she proudly raised her chin and chimed, “Then it’ll be worth it.†The soldier sparred with her in the yard, and months of training was a disturbing deja-vu of her first time being bullied, and it was then she knew she would constantly move through life having to prove herself. And prove herself she did, although it was no easy feat as he promised. Most nights she sank herself into an ice bath, biting down cries into a towel as bruises and broken noses and wounds became an everyday part of her life. She woke at the crack of dawn and stumbled into bed well into half of the night. She ran, she honed her reflexes, she trusted her gut instinct, and she practiced, practiced, practiced until she was able to take on five men at once and defeat them all.
Dacey is currently traveling with Robb stark and a group of knights, wherever they need to go, her sword is sworn to him.
Character Personality: ---- the thinker
Many people often thought of Dacey as prudent. After all, she never took part in any of the girl’s gossip sessions, and she often gave reply through a steady stare instead of words. Sometimes her silence was so stifling it drove people away all together, and sometimes, only sometimes, she did so on purpose. Because above all else, Dacey is a thinker. Trapped in her own head and bundled in her precise moral code, she does not allow room for second-guessed answers or wasted air. Conversations are held for a specific purpose, and she is stubborn to figure it out before her initial greeting. And it does make her annoying, especially when she lets the silence seep into every crack until it becomes unbearable to stick around for much longer. Unresponsive, aloof, and stupid are some of the many words people used against her, and in turn, Dacey could dish out quite her fair share of vocabulary pertaining to those so quick to judge.
However, the most peculiar thing about Dacey is her often-times blatant disregard for what is considered ‘social norm’. She is unafraid to speak out when no one else will, to push the least popular vote even if it is the right one. She won’t shy away from being the bad guy if that’s what the situation calls for, and her tough exterior can deliver these verbal blows like a slap to the face. In fact, if anyone really bothered to ask, Dacey would have to say that people simply fascinate her. Their reactions, their lies, their body language, and their stories are all relative, and often she is found with her head tipped to one side, studying these individuals to pinpoint what exactly makes up their character. To figure out why they do the things they do, and perhaps mimic it similarly for when she ventures out into the world.This trait of hers, this simple step in taking the time to fully assess a situation caused Dacey to stand out amongst her peers during the intensive training. When the proverbial shit hit the fan, Dacey proved herself to be calm, cool, and collected in the face of stress.
-----the sarcastic
Eventually at some point in her life, Dacey was forced to interact with other people. And while she may have done her best to prevent it, society claims to have a need to bring people together despite her stance on the matter. And people were so strange to her too. In fact, Dacey found it difficult to really relate to most people and their problems, simply because they were problems she never faced herself. The only area she feels comfortable conversing in is in direct relation to books, current events, and various war strategics, and only because her mind is so deftly trained in retaining facts and dates.
Sarcasm. What was at the time a rare moment in her mouth moving before the thought formulated in her head, gained a few chuckles from those who shared her space. And what a funny thing it did to Dacey, it surprised her. How was she supposed to know that all this time, if she said one thing that obviously implied the other, she would get such a warm welcome? How much easier everything would have been if someone had informed her on this perfect little secret to success earlier. And at first she only used it occasionally, for times when the tension was palpable or the silence unnecessary. But then, she began to use it all the time. In fact, anytime in where she wasn’t holding an intellectual conversation concerning any number of tasks at hand, Dacey reverted herself to sarcasm. It was so interesting to watch how people reacted, and in turn how accepted it made her feel. Accepted! Like she belonged! Oh, Gods, if only she had known just how easy it really was to trick people into thinking she was one of them. So much time could have been saved.
Family Members or Important People: ----mother= Maege Mormont
Father= Merrick Snow
Sisters: Lyra, Alysane, Jorelle, Lyanna
Cousin: Jorah Mormont
Other Information
Do you have another character with us? naw
How did you find us? RPGD
RP Style: ----Um, multi-paragraph I think.
RP Sample: ---- Dorcas couldn’t believe the face she saw in the mirror. Automatically her hand flew to her hair, eagerly sinking her fingers into the severed ends and curiously it all felt foreign. She didn’t recognize the girl looking back at her, those eyes wide in silent awe at how a simple change in hairstyle transformed her entire existence. She had just been herself not a moment ago, the same Dorcas she always saw in the mirror. Hair so long it touched the hem of her shirt, and color so fair it nearly washed out her entire face. But she had always liked that about herself, because it served as the perfect platform for fading into the background. She was utterly unmemorable, and she had built her entire psychology around it. But now things were different.
The stark black was the most shocking of it all, so dark it sucked the light out of the air and killed it on the spot. And its length was such that she never in a million years thought she could pull it off. Dorcas stared at herself, and thought she looked almost stunning. Not in a glamorous way, but simply in terms of contrast. This hair made her stand out and caused her heart to beat erratically . The eyes in the mirror showed someone else, someone who held a great deal more confidence than the long hair version. Confidence to want to be noticed. To purposefully draw eyes toward her and make some sort of statement.
She hardly thought long about banging on Thomas’ door so late at night.
It opened to the smell of herbs and good wine drifting over her face, only to be filled with the face of her instructor who was very confused indeed about her being there. Then his eyes went to her hair. They widened considerably, with a short burst of air that sounded a lot like disbelief.
“Holy shit,†he uttered, perfectly frozen and content with just staring at her. Dorcas bristled, literally feeling his gaze as it trailed over every inch of her, and it felt like the most humiliating thing of her life.
“May I come in?†she asked. He nodded, idly moving to the side without dropping his gape much to her growing annoyance. He shut the door promptly and turned to fold his arms, and thankfully the look of startlement was wiped from his expression. It was quickly replaced with his usual calm demeanour and inquisitive glances most often found in his lessons. “I see you’ve been working on your spells,†he remarked casually, then moved without further invitation into his home toward his kitchen. Dorcas had no choice but to follow at a far distance.
“Yes,†she answered hollowly, taking in her surroundings with the similar attention to detail one would associate with someone who was looking for something. Anything out of the ordinary. “Thought you might like to see my progress.â€
Thomas had disappeared behind open cupboards, and she noted that he seemed to be in the middle of making himself some supper. A pot boiled away on the stove, and he was in the process of pulling warmed baguette's out of the oven, the scent of garlic warming her tongue with fragrance. “I must congratulate you, it usually takes the guys a couple more weeks until they get beyond the initial change in length. You look good with dark hair, I might add.â€
Dorcas bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t accustomed to such open statements concerning her appearance. In fact she was rather used to negativity being thrown her way that it shocked her dumb when something nice was even offered in her direction. She found she didn’t know what to do in a situation like this, so she opted for silence and turned away. Instead she found herself being drawn to the shelves of his personal library resting in the corner. His collection held the works of several that lined her own, however it looked not to been touched for a while given by the state of the dust. She pulled out his worn copy of Fahrenheit 451, running her fingers over the cracked spine and battered cover. It felt well loved, which mirrored the state of her own at home.
Thomas returned into his main living area, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to disturb you during dinner,†she clarified quietly, focussing her efforts on returning the novel back to its rightful place. “I’ll go.†She turned then and made her way back for the door, pausing beside him -- although felt too strange to lift her eyes, so they remained trained somewhere in front of her feet. Suddenly she felt a hand on her head, and a set of fingers idly messing up her hair. She started, eyes snapping to attention on his face and taking in how he petted her like she was some sort of pet. Without a second to think, Dorcas pushed herself up onto her toes and kissed him. He stilled beneath her touch, his hand falling away. She pressed herself closer against his body, feeling the heat he gave off and the firm muscle beneath his shirt. She fitted his bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a bite to coax him into a response, yet he remained still and inhaled sharply. A gentle pressure pushed her away by the hip, and she stared at him imploringly, wondering if she was perhaps doing this seducing thing all wrong.
“Dorcas, I--â€
“It’s all right,†she shrugged and took a step back while removing her coat. She dropped it to the ground and grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting it off over her head and letting it join the coat. She stood in front of him clad in her bra, and felt defiant. “I want you to touch me.†It was a demand, and as she closed the space between them again she lifted his hand and placed it over her breast. His fingertips sent sparks racing through her skin, and cautiously they shifted an inch. Dorcas grabbed him and kissed harder this time around, sliding her body right up against his while guiding his other hand to other areas of her body. He made a sound of protest and pushed her off once more.
“I don’t feel this way about you,†he stated calmly, although his eyes held a certain amount of panic. “I’m truly sorry if I ever gave you the impression, but Dorcas...I’m your instructor!†He stepped back twice, leaving an open wound between them that made her feel more and more vulnerable. “Nothing is going to happen between us.â€
Dorcas watched him intently, searching for all the signs that might tell her a different story. But she couldn’t find them, just like she couldn’t find what it was she was first looking for when she entered his flat. Some semblance of deeper emotion. The sudden overwhelming sense of shame made her eyes heavy and she picked up her discarded clothing at her feet. Her fingers fumbled with the fabric as it was all pulled back on, the entire time Thomas was unable to look at her though she spared many glances at him. Tightening her hold on her coat across her chest, she moved quickly past him and out the door. When she was halfway down the hall she heard the lock bolt into place.
Read more: winteriscomingrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=join&action=display&thread=17#ixzz234DLpkSV
