Topic: A house into a home

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-07-01 19:47 EST
Five heads tilted to the right. They stood there in various states of question eyeing the grand old Victorian house at the edge of the West End. Lirssa?s lips puckered in deep thought. Michael and Peter exchanged posturing glances. Missy was twisting the hem of her top so hard that the frail cotton was starting to show signs of rending. Old Marshall Turner, a grizzled man who looked like he was made out of rawhide, clapped his lips together and gave a ?Harumph.?

Lirssa did not like the sound of that. ?Now listen here, Mister Marshall Turner, you said you could fix anything.?

Clearing his throat, the phlegm collected and spat out in a gob of tobacco stained yellow smearing an upturned pavestone. ?This needs a miracle, young?un.?

?Won?t that be nice to be able to say that when you?re done.? Hands out as if she were reading from a poster, ?Old Marshall Turner, miracle fixer upper.?

Jaundice yellow eyes made his dark irises like coals. ?Harumph.? He spat again.

?No more spitting. We just have to clean it up,? Lirssa scolded and found herself sounding very much like her mother. ?Now, let?s have a look over, you tell me what needs bein? done, and I?ll getcha the help you need. I already have painters and such, but I suspect there?s some other work needin? doin? first. Not the plumbing though. Got that in writing it?s sound.?

Straggling out behind her like ants, they wall walked to the house as Lirssa chattered on with great enthusiasm for the monstrous project. ?Mister Johnny said he could do some metal work, and I suspect I?ll be looking at gratings and maybe some nice light fixtures. Mister Dark said he?s handy and could do some work. Miss Sheffield and my mom can help with the gardening, and my dad can do some of the work, too. He made my tree house afterall.?

The porch creaked and sighed like an old lady who has her corset on too tight. Not a board gave way though as they opened up the door and went inside with a flurry of sneezing out of Missy who was sensitive to the musty smell. Tired paper on the walls, squares of lighter color where long past frames hung. Touches of excitement danced along her arms and back like little sprites tiptoeing across her flesh and raising goose pimples. Mister Alain had been good to his word, and she was going to be good to hers.

When they all were inside, Lirssa turned to the other children with a wolfish grin. ?Let?s check it out!? And they were off in all directions as struck billiard balls, except Old Marshall Turner who set down his tool box and began his work.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-07-10 20:24 EST
?Listen, kid, I don?t care what the cause is. I don?t give away my wares for free. Now if you want the paint, you?re going to have to pay for it.? The purple blotches on the man?s face more than clearly signaled he had had enough.

?I?ll just be taking my business elsewhere then, and they?ll get the good word about town and you won?t.? Lirssa frowned sharply and turned on her heel for the door. She had discovered her level of cute no longer worked like it used it.

There were a lot of things that did not work like it used to when she was younger, but this was the most aggravating one. The bothersome one of her body having a mind of its own, well, she would conquer that one. The notion that she could not turn a tale and twist a person to her way of thinking was something she could not fix. She would have to bring Missy along with her to seek out patrons. Missy was still young and now that she was cleaned up, fed well, and adding a bit of round to her face, looked rather angelic when she wasn?t all tied up in fretful knots about one thing or another. Maybe getting her to help out and show her things were okay in some parts of the city might give her a little stiffening of the spine.

That would have to wait for another day. Today, Lirssa had the goal of getting paint and for free if she could, dirt cheap the next best thing. The problem was she needed a lot of it. The house work was coming along with some of the street people, other foster homes she had ties to, and new found friends doing what bit of work they could in the time they could spare.

Old Marshall Turner had gone and died. Heart attack the healers said, and she had a firm notion to revive his sorry old carcass and tell him what she thought of that, but those that knew him were set against it. It had been a nice service, though the dress her mother made her wear had been made so to keep her from doing any sort of running.

Now, though, she was in her leggings and tunic, running the errands of the project and trying to keep it going. Paint was high priority with the repairs to the walls and woodwork nearing completion. There were other places to check than that badger of a merchant with his iron heart and steel locked coin chest.

?Lirssa!? Peter ran and caught up with her, panting for breath. ?Glad I found ya. Some folks are stopping by offering to help make some furniture, but we don?t know what all we need.?

A windfall for sure, she was skeptical in the heart, but excitement brought a bounce. ?Are they still there??

?Sure. That?s why I was sent to find you.?

Without a further word, she was off at a dash and Peter was at her heels. The streets were full of people, but the two slipped and dove between traffic of wagon, beast, and people alike until Lirssa slid across the cobbles to a halt at the worksite and announced to the strangers, ?Bunkbeds! Lots of ?em!?

Johnny Smith

Date: 2008-07-20 10:20 EST
It wasn?t long past sunrise when Johnny pulled the hired wagon with its rattling, clanking burden into the short drive of Lirssa?s foster home in progress. When he?d heard about the project, he couldn?t help but volunteer; now with Sianna having one of her better days he was finally able to meet the commitment. Dressed for work in battered jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days, with too-long hair pulled back into a tight club to keep it out of his face, he swung off the driver?s seat of the wagon and stood with hands on hips to look at the refurbished building.

It almost shone next to its neighbors, but there was also obviously still some work to be done. Johnny didn?t have the skill for most of it, but some ? some he did. Like replacing the wrought-iron fence that was more rust than iron, adding bars over the windows for security, and ensuring all the light fixtures inside were in good repair. A quick sketch of the day ahead laid out in his mind, Johnny turned away from looking at the front of the house ? and then he jumped.

In the perhaps five minutes since he had pulled the wagon into the driveway, no less than five children of various ages had materialized. One was beneath the tarp that covered the wagon bed (he could only tell that by the giggles and moving lump of a head beneath fabric), one little girl of maybe six was hanging onto the wagon wheel, another girl of about the same age was petting the horse?s nose, and two boys were standing in a similar pose to that which Johnny had been displaying, hands on hips and staring intently at him.

?G?mornin?. Y?all have somethin? ta do wi? this ol? house, here?? Johnny?s open smile and friendly words didn?t seem to cut much ice with the boys, although the girl hanging onto the wagon wheel did giggle. The moving lump beneath the tarp finally pulled off the fabric covering from the wagon bed and revealed another, much smaller boy perched on the piles of wrought-iron bars and fence section that Johnny had brought.

The older of the two boys on the ground narrowed his eyes at Johnny. ?If ya don?t belong here, ya best move on. We got connections, and we sent a runner for the boss already.? There was a distinct jut of a small chin that accompanied that statement. Muddy brown eyes were fierce on Johnny, although the smaller of the boys on the ground gave a doubtful look to the older for a moment before facing the tall man again.

There are times when it doesn?t pay to laugh, no matter how much a man might desperately want to, and Johnny could tell this was one of those times. So he fought down the laughter and the broad grin that wanted to escape, and replied very seriously. ?Nah, I?m s?posed ta be here, bro. Brough? th? stuff ta fix th? fence an? some other stuff. Killer bits fer th? windows an? some ligh?s, like tha?.?

Finally the small boy on the piles of iron spoke up. ?He?s got loads?a junk here. If he ain?t supposed to put it up, the boss will know and make him take it down. I wanna see how all this?s going ta make a fence and like he?s saying. ?Specially since I don?t see any tools but a shovel. Nothin? like a forge for the metal.? Kicking one of the wrought iron bars, the boy looked from the older boy of the trio to Johnny with something between suspicion and eagerness. Hoping for magic but doubtful that it would appear, that was the look.

?Ain? brough? any other tools ?cause I ain? goin? ta need them. Look, here.? Johnny finally broke the standoff to stride over to the wagon bed. The girl swinging from the wheel scampered down to join the girl at the horse?s head, and Johnny picked up the small boy and swung him to the ground. Protests were cut off when Johnny then picked up one of the thicker wrought-iron bars ? all three boys drew back a few steps. A glance at one of the windows to judge its dimension, and then Johnny did something none of the children could have expected. He took a knee on the stone drive and grinned at them.

A slow blink lowered silvery film over Johnny?s eyes, obscuring white and color both. It gave an oddly blank look to his gaze, but he was seeing more than unenhanced vision ever could. All five of the children gasped when they saw the change. But their initial surprise was nothing compared to what they saw next. With no other apparent preparation, with no tools at all, Johnny began to shape the iron bar. The metal seemed to mold as easily as clay in his hands, and it didn?t take very long before what had been a straight rod of iron had assumed the shape of an elongated, stylized dragon. Fire from the mouth bent so it could be driven into the wall, and the tail coiled and hooked for similar purpose. Narrow wings were spread out to allow for another section to be joined on.

Grinning, Johnny looked up at the children through silver film. ?There, ya see? No need fer tools. Figger dragons on abou? a quarter, mebbe half th? windows, roses fer another quarter, an? mebbe pegasi fer th? rest. Somethin?, anyway. Fence?ll be easier, jus? follow th? ol? pattern tha?s there, an? I?ll hav?ta see inside fer th? ligh?s.? The smallest boy, the one who had been so torn before, crept forward to examine the dragon more closely. There was something between awe and greed on his features.

When one small, grubby hand reached for the metal, Johnny had to yank it back suddenly. ?Whoa! Careful. Ya?ll burn yerself somethin? fierce on tha?. Look, ya see m?han?s?? Large palm turned over to reveal the silvery mesh embedded into his fingertips. Unseen, the mesh continued entirely beneath the surface of his hands and well up into his forearms. ?Tha?s how I can shape th? metal, bu? it heats up th? iron, ya see? Same?s if I were usin? a forge. Ain? goin? ta hurt ta touch m? han?, bu? th? metal keeps th? heat longer.? The small boy gave a solemn nod and backed up to rejoin the other children.

So it was with a pint-sized audience that Johnny finally set to unloading the wagon. It would be a long day.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-07-20 19:17 EST
When they arrived out of breath, to the foster home, sweat on her brow and tickling her shoulders, she laughed and waved at Mister Johnny. Before she could even get a greeting out, the children came running to her, explaining, denying, accusing, pointing, shouting to be heard over others, and Lirssa followed it all getting the entire story in a mishmash of exuberant words. ?Surein?, it?s Mister Johnny. He?s gonna help us spruce up this place. But what?s that you say, Sampson??

The small boy who had been so keen on taking the hot metal from Johnny explained with bombastic motions of his hands, ?He did it with his hands! You gotta look! Made a metal dragon just like that! Got stuff on his eyes,? hands pointed to his own eyes, ?and his fingers!? The small palms shot out at her, sending Lirssa back a step.

Sampson wasn?t exactly one for telling tales, but Lirssa had noticed his tendency to take anything the older kids said as sworn, absolute truth. ?Is that so? Well, I don?t suppose you?re much of a help staring at him and all. Give ?im a hand unloading the wagon Val and Sampson, since I can tell you?re all itchin? to see more of his workings. The rest of you all got things to do. Get to ?em. And speaking of things doing, aren?t some of you supposed to be cleaning up that large room? Mister Glenn?s gonna be workin on that banister in a day or two, and we need a room for him to work in that he doesn?t have to worry about trippin? over stuff.?

Two rushed off still in an excitement of what they had seen, but Jess was still showing the horse sweet affection. Lirssa was not about to scold her. That girl was so sensitive. Mother would have called her an orchid if she was going to compare her to a flower. It was going to take a lot of care to get that girl into being whole again.

Lirssa grinned over to Mister Johnny, peering at him as he worked. If Sampson was telling the truth, well, she was as curious as the next. ?Welcome and thanks, Mister Johnny, for coming to give us a hand. Sorry ?bout the kids.? She said the term as if she was not a kid herself. ?Not a trusting sort, ya can understand. You need anything, you let me know. I?ll be ?round for a few.? Most intent on counting what she had earned and setting her mind to figures, which was not her strongest skill. Plus there were the bottles to be cleaned.

Just like Mister Glenn, Mister Johnny needed to at least have the cost of his materials covered, and from what she had seen in that wagon, well?she needed to collect more bottles, that was for certain. Cleaning them was a perfect task for Jess.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-07-28 13:06 EST
Lirssa lay on the grass of the yard, arms and legs akimbo like a broken doll. Though she was not broken; just exhausted. The bone drained kind of weary that sets brain against body to keep going just one more time. A full week of work had culminated in this yard sprawl, baking her body in the bright sun.

The mornings started out dewy fresh with the early rides into town on her parents' wagon. She rode further with it these days as the double team wagon meandered through the streets, the horses flicking their tails and shaking their heads against the chaos. Two to three hours spent working the yard with the various volunteers and children who had a giddy glee in playing in the dirt and brambles warmed Lirssa?s limbs. At the lunch hour, she would share a meal in the half working kitchen with everyone leaving and everyone coming to work.

That everyone might be a total of fifteen people all together on good days and five on bad days did not disappoint Lirssa. There were people working, and that is what mattered. As long as it kept going, even if it was just her on days, the project was that much closer to being complete.

Lirssa already knew the children who would come to live here once it was done. They had already started to help, creeping in from their cubbies and corners on the streets in the dawn and only creeping away at night. Along the way they saw there were some good adults out in the world, too. Some few watched the tradesfolk who volunteered their talents with keen interest.

Mister Glenn had no fewer than two boys and one little girl begging to help and watching him all the time, trying their hands at whatever task he might grant them, no matter how small. Mister Johnny was always the subject of whispers when he arrived and speculation when he worked while Val and Sampson, who was near on idol worship of the man and his mods, did their best to run errands for what he needed.

The walk back to the Marketplace let her food settle before she began her performances to earn the much needed coin to pay for materials. Bending and twisting, she varied the routine every day. The juggling of knives scared too many of the kind hearted adults that she reserved that for when she performed at night. It was more difficult in the uncertain light of lamps and torches broken by moving shadows of patrons, but that also made it more exciting and earned her just that bit more.

Between the two performances, she was back at the house helping the others with painting the rooms. The heat of the day drove them inside typically, but this day, Lirssa was too worn out to move. She had missed evenings at the duels, she had missed dinners with her family. The grass prickled at her neck and tickled her cheek, and she just lay there.

?Lirssa,? whispered Jess close to her ear. A soft poke at her side. ?Lirssa, you bain?t dead, be ya??

?Near enough.? Lirssa sat up slow and rubbed dirty hands over her face, feeling the touch of burn there. ?Butter and beans, I fried myself.?

?Near enough,? Jess giggled soft. ?Miss Sheffield says time for you to go home. Your pa?s come to take you back, and he bain?t lookin? glee?d up.? But Jess did. Jess thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world to have a parent who cared, even if they looked cross when they did it. Lirssa?s parents had volunteered their time and talents often as well when the twins were in school.

?I?ll be back tomorrow.? The fact she did not argue and slumped her way to the horse only convinced her father all the more he had done the right thing coming to claim her.

It was time for a good night?s sleep.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-08-22 15:13 EST
Lirssa stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands at her hips and head cocked to the side. The banister was complete and Mister Glenn had done wonderful work, but most of all it was sturdy. She knew because she had just tested its sliding properties. Of course, she was warning the other children off of doing the same. "I had to test its strength, of course. Don't you all go a-slidin' now." She had told them. Lirssa did suspect some would just the same, but while other adults working were in earshot, she had to toe the line.

The day was warm and most of the workers had turned back to the needs inside the house; particularly that of the kitchen. Most of the children were unable to help there with the stove and pipes, so they were about doing small chores and running errands. Lirssa felt the house was coming together.

Alain had spent most of the day seeing to a project of his own at Greyshott Place only a few blocks away, so he arrived at the new foster home on foot. His better judgment gave him a little nudge in the ribs to put his cigarette out before he approached the house, and with a little limp to his left leg, he wove his way across the front yard, through supplies and building materials, homing in on the sound of honest work. He knocked twice on the door, pushed it open, and called out, "Hello?"

If he was wearing a gun, he had it tucked out of sight.

Lirssa turned just the upper portion of her body at the call, so she was in a strange bit of contortion. But when her surprise turned into a smile, the lower half joined in the turning about and she ran up to him. "Mister Alain! You've come!" She reached to take his hand, but then withdrew and just hopped sideways to encourage him to come further into the house. "Did you see it before when you bought it? Look at it now!"

Others of the working household came to see about Lirssa's excitement, but stood off at the edges of doorways and down halls. Two small heads peaked from the landing at the top of the stairs. None of the children came near, at least, not yet.

He followed after her, a smile crawling onto his lips - he regarded the peeking heads briefly, but paid the most attention to his surroundings and Lirssa's tour. "Yes, I did - are you sure this is the same place, Lirssa?" The smile turned into a grin, and he gave the new railing an appreciative pat.

"Yes, sir. I promise. Folks bein' doin' tons of work, and we got kids already lined up to make this their home." She patted the railing, too. "Didn't Mister Glenn do good work? I'm glad you mentioned him, because he was awful nice, though he's sorta quiet, too, but I suspect that's just his nature. I mean, not everyone can be all talkative. Wouldn't that make just the most horrible noisy place?" She smiled and laughed, knowing full well she talked enough for three or four people when excited, rather like now. Her eyes were bright with eager anticipation for him to see the home. "Come upstairs and you can see some of the bunkbeds and what Mister Johnny's done with the windows. He made killer fantastic lighting things, too." She did not know to call them fixtures.

She had, however, noticed Mister Alain's slight limp when he made his way further in, so instead of scampering up the stairs she took one step at a time and kept careful eye on his progress. "Did you hurt yourself, Mister Alain?"

"Had a little spill the other night - I'll be okay," Alain said, hoping not to dwell on it. Her excitement, though, had his grin widening. She reminded him of Shannon, just a little, when she was much younger. A steady hand on the sturdy banister had him going up slowly, but not too slowly, after Lirssa. "Glenn's a good carpenter and an honest man -- Kacilla Lynne's another carpenter you can use if Glenn's booked. Anyway, he did a fine job here, and believe it or not, I heard a thing or two about what Johnny's done..." A little shine grew in his eyes just then, wondering what the good-humored bartender had done with the place. "Looks like you've gotten things organized pretty well -- you don't need any extra volunteers?"

"A spill?" A shake of her head set the ribboned hair to bobbing again. "That can be a tough goin'. I hope you get all better soon." She gave him a smile while conducting him down an empty but well refurbished hallway with new light fixtures at corners along light creme printed wallpaper walls.

She noted the name of Kacilla Lynne, tucking it in her head for any work in the future. Then at his hint of hearing about Mister Johnny?s work, she laughed and brought him into a room that had two sets of bunkbeds on either side. They had mattresses, but no sheets or other adornments. In fact, except for the windows and beds the room was bare.

The windows were done, the figurine of a dragon on the protective bars helped to keep the ominous feeling at bay. The room was a dusky dawn blue, and Lirssa cheerfully announced in case Mister Alain could not guess. "This is one of the boys' rooms."

"As to volunteers, well..." she was giving it due consideration, "I'm thinkin' we could use folks maybe want to volunteer some of their linens or other workin's to decorate it up and stuff. I'm still earning coin to pay off some of the stuff, but donations of new linens and things, that'd be a good thing. And if folks got time to spare, well, we still need to fix the pipes in the kitchen. They're bein' terrible ornery." And as if on cue, a groaning sort of shuddering sensation could be felt through the house. It did not frighten Lirssa, and in fact she gave a big grin as the house proved her point.

Alain paused to listen to the pipes and listen well. He was not as mechanically inclined as some of his friends, but in fixing up a few places himself, had learned a thing or two. He took a look around the room, eyed the dragon, and said, "Wish I'd known Johnny when I was a little boy... these dragons are too cool..." Fingertips drift lazily over the metal, and he turned back to her. "There are people who work for me as well as friends of mine who'd be only too happy to help out. I know some of the wives out in Esperance who could fix you up with some pillows and good linens and blankets..." He considered, thumb resting to one side of his chin.

Another thought that had occurred to him before bubbled back to the surface, and he gave it voice. "Given thought to how this place will be supported once you get it up and running? If you've got plans already, that's fine -- and if not... House DeMuer, my family, would like to support it, if that's okay with you."

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-08-22 15:14 EST
Lirssa was without words. Her mouth dropped open slightly as her mind churned around all that could mean. It was the creepy, crawly old man suspicion in her that closed her mouth, crossed her arms, and looked up at him with a narrow eyed study. "I don't mean no disrespect, Mister Alain, but you done a heapin' more than most. I mean, you bought the place, and that couldn't 'a' been killer cheap. So, now I'm a wonderin', just where you get all your money? We're not a drop in the bucket. High money it takes. Most foster parents I work with so far, well, they pay the way. Now," she was working it through while talking out loud, and poor Mister Alain was not getting much of a chance to get a word in edgewise, "this place is a good deal bigger, and sure is going to take a bit more. The family I got thinking of taking it on sure have been looking worried the faster this place got together." Arms uncrossing, but she's still skeptical. "You sure, Mister Alain? I mean, I intend to help out how I can like I do all the places, but I sure can't provide for this place as much as they need." She had come full circle like a whirlwind of words and emotion.

"I own Zeppa Soda Co. and the Silver Mark Pub & Brewery, and I have a fifty per cent share in SPI, the Security Division, and Kaldi Gourmet Coffee Imports." His posture mirrored hers, his arms were folded, except he was grinning, just a little. "I'm a businessman, a pretty well-off one, and my House has connections with other businessmen who'd be more than happy to help out. As much as we've gotten out of RhyDin... it's only fair we give some of it back."

The list of businesses, some she had heard of, some she did not understand like percent shares, but each one raised her brows that much higher into her hairline, until she stood there completely gobsmacked with arms loose at her sides and hanging forward. "Butter and beans, Mister Alain! You're a well propertied man. You best be careful out there in the streets. Folks are liable to clean pick you apart if they knew how rich you were!" And as she suddenly realized how loud she was speaking, she clapped her hands over her mouth.

A moment passed as she looked at him with something mixed with shame for blurting that out loud and giddy delight at the prospect of having a wealthy patron for the foster home. Finally, secure she could speak in a normal voice, she declared. "Sure, Mister Alain. Only fitting Alain House should be your charity of choice." Her own inner salesperson, what helped her earn coin with merchants, bubbled up. "Of course, we don't have to call it Alain House, though I think it has a nice ring to it, rather like poetry." She turned about to spy those same two children now gazing at them around the corner, only to fright away at being spotted. Lirssa turned about and with a cheeky sort of smile, "Don't suppose you want to adopt a kid or two, do ya?" But she was rather certain he did not. From what she had seen of him, he was one of those lone wolf sorts.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Patronage I can do, but being a father... time will tell." Alain put a hand up, though. "As far as naming this place after me..." He shook his head. "Alain House does have a good ring to it -- it's my favorite name in the whole world, after all -- but maybe name it something the kids here like? It's their place, after all..." He wanted to articulate how naming it Alain House might, horrifically enough, make this foster home a target to some, but instead he offered, "Maybe name it after Mister Johnny's dragons? The Dragons, Dragon Place, Dragon on the Hill... I'm thinking the boys, at least, like those dragons an awful lot." And his grin returned in full.

"Your favorite name in the whole wide world?" She had to laugh, but at least had the good grace to hide it behind a hand. "Mister Alain, you're so funny." At his alternate suggestions, she gave a nod. "I guess we'll make it the thing to do. I'll take those suggestions to the kids and see what they'll have." Leading him to another room, they passed two bathrooms, looking mostly complete. The next room was a soft peach pink, like the change of a ripening fruit. It, too, had two sets of bunkbeds and was just as barren. "Girls room. Most upstairs is the living spots. Downstairs the parlor, the kitchen, the dining room, which is big," she grinned as if that was absolutely imperative to have a big dining room, "and another bedroom, though I don't know what they're gonna do with it, because we set up the parent's room up here."

"Guest bedroom, maybe? Or a place for kids who are in trouble to stay until they can find something else..." He rubbed his chin again, looking at the different rooms he was shown. "Big dining room is good, this'll be a big family - two parents, eight kids? I like the paint jobs, by the way... And are you guys short on furniture, or just haven't moved all that in yet?" Alain spoke at an easy pace, almost as easy as a man from the Deep South, though his voice held none of the twang, only a faint French accent.

"Well," she hemmed and twisted one foot about on the ankle, "we're working on the furniture. I still gotta make one more payment to Mister Glenn for his materials, and then I gotta pay Mister Johnny." Before he could say anything though, she held up her hand, "and that's my end of the deal, Mister Alain. I'm supposed to get this place up and runnin', so no money from you yet. I'll get it there, I promise." And then with a giggle, "And it's gonna be eighteen kids. We still got one more room beside the parents on this floor, and two more rooms up on the third floor." She pointed up at the ceiling. "For the older kids."

"Saints alive, glad I've got friends in high places," he said, though with a smile, at her mention of eighteen kids. Then he nodded to the ceiling. "Can we take a peek at the third floor?"

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-08-22 15:16 EST
"Sure thing, Mister Alain, if your still alright ya know with..," her voice trailed off as her hands gave a vague motion to his body, not sure what his endurance was when recovering from injuries. "It'll be just this way."

"Think I can handle one more flight," he answered her with a grin and pushed off - carefully - from his lean. He placed more weight on his left foot, then on his right, and gave her a smile as if to say, See?

"You know," she began as she took him at his word and began to lead the way to the second flight of stairs. It was a bit steeper than the first, with a tighter curl to its climb, but also a bit shorter as the ceilings of the second level were not as high as the first, "I betcha this place has some killer good secret hiding places. I gotta find 'em all first, so I know where the kids might take a sneak about. Did you sneak about as a kid, Mister Alain?" She arrived at the third floor. It was much simpler. A short hallway, one room door to the left and another to the right.

"You mean centuries ago?" His grin took a teasing turn - he was about as old as he looked, really. He followed her up at a slow but steady pace. "I did. Still do, a little. We had cabinets that connected the study to the utility room, I used to love slipping back and forth through there, when my father wasn't in the study."

"Oooh, that sounds killer grand. And no," she laughed, "not centuries ago. You've not got centuries in your eyes, Mister Alain." She tilted up to peer in them as if to make sure she had not missed a secret aging or could read his soul, which she could not.

Satisfied, she went to flat feet again and nodded, "I've sneaked some when I was a kid, too, but mostly for the good."
She turned her gaze up to the ceiling, a finger scratching at her temple before her hand pushed back an errant curl, and then she dropped her gaze to Mister Alain. "So, Bubber says folks never do things for nothing. It's just you and me, Mister Alain. Whatcha gettin outta doin this, hm?"

"Honestly? I'm just doing my part," Alain answered her, and looked around the room thoughtfully, hands in his pockets. "...Things didn't go so well where I came from, Lirssa, for a number of years, and I picked my battles, but didn't pick too many fights against human suffering. I regret it... so, maybe it's my conscience?" And then he looked down at her, and added, "Just between you and me."

There was not a beat lost between his gentle nudge to keep that confession just between them, and being such a glutton for secrets with adults, she nodded fast and firm, and gave her oath, "Not should giants pluck my eyes or vampire rabbits eat my heart, I'll not tell a soul, body, living nor dead."

Her hands out from her, she pointed to the end of the hallway's window. "That looks out front and you can see a fair ways. Wanna look?"

The little oath made him grin. "Sure," he nodded, and walked down the hall towards the window to have a better look at the rest of the West End. "...More beautiful than a lot of people say it is, isn't it." Meaning their district, the run-down section of RhyDin City.

She smiled up at him. So few she thought saw the beauty. "Yes, sir." She looked out over the buildings, crouching together like a huddle of refugees, strong in spirit though somewhat shabby in appearance.

"You're a lot like Bubber, Mister Alain, though, well, younger and cuter, and you have all your teeth," at least she did not remember any gaps, "but you see past things, ya know? Not many can. Like me. You let me run this and had faith in me. I haven't had that since my parents that adopted me." She gave him a smile that she poured all her thanks and heart into. "Thank you."

Alain turned his head to cast a rare warm smile on Lirssa. "Some people have a... special strength, Lirssa, and I'm thankful when I'm able to see it. And you have my thanks for what you're doing with this place - I thought I could have faith in you, and, well... you've proven me right." The smile turned to a grin, and then he looked back down the hall. "Come on... let's head downstairs. Please tell me you have some iced tea or something?"

Like a pendulum swinging from one side to another, the somber emotion was given up for the springing bounce and glee. "Oh sure! Iced tea, lemonade, even have some beer, though I'm not sure you'd like it much. We tried the recipe, but some of the bottles exploded, and then there was that overheating in the sun the other day and I swear to you, I think the grass turned brown at the smell of it." If the girl required breathing, it was hard to tell when after such long strings of words. Its lack did not keep her from hopping down the steps, keeping a careful look back to Mister Alain from time to time.

He followed after Lirssa at his own slow pace, laughter in his eyes at her excitement, and he answered her, "I think I'll just stick to the tea..."

(adapted from live RP with many thanks to Alain's player)

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-08-26 14:33 EST
?Yes, that room is yours, and no squabblin over who?s got top bunk.? Lirssa pointed with the hand holding the paisley print linens for the Jess?s bed.

?I?m not squabbling,? Jess pouted, snatched the linens as if they might disappear the instant she touched them, and held them close as she wandered down the hallway to her room.

The house was done, except for a few extra touches Mister Johnny wanted to finish up over the next couple of weeks. The Victorian style three story home, if one did not count the deliciously creepy cellar, was a gem freed from the rough of its outer shell. Ramshackled boards replaced and painted. Windows peaked their inner curtains and their shine behind protective bars, the austerity of such a necessary precaution lessened by the fantastical creatures that adorned them. A long, lazy and inviting porch held two rocking chairs and a swing. From the iron gated front yard led a pleasantly curved walkway, its paving stones devoid of weeds between the spacings, to that porch, dividing the recovering grasses into wide patches eager to be rolled across by children.

Inside, the house had its finished woods, a safe and sturdy banister of fabulously carved wood, painted and papered walls, and the chaotic bustle of the first day the family and their foster children would officially call it home. Mrs. June was smiling and helping hand out the donated blankets and linens with Lirssa. She was a soft figured lady with gray tickling at the temples of her black hair and wrinkles sneaking in at the corners of green eyes. The woman had mother written all over her, but she lost one of her children to a sickness and another to a war. So, she and her husband, Mr. Ephram, had taken to fostering. This, however, was the biggest group they had taken into their caring, but Mrs June no longer looked worried a bit.

The worry had gone away when Lirssa had shared the good news of House DeMuer supporting the foster home in their needs. They would not have to fully rely on Mr. Ephram?s income as a veterinarian. Now, Mrs. June was in a delightful mood, giving hugs and touches of affection to children starved for it, even if they didn?t know it just yet.

?I?m sure glad you told me that you all had turned off the water in different places while you were getting the gas pipes fixed.? Lirssa grinned as she started handing off bathtowels to each child on the second run of the eighteen getting their belongings. ?I was darn near close to sharin? a few words with that lady what brought me to this house. She had sworn to the plumbing being sound.?

Mrs. June touched Anasta?s hair as she offered out the soft towel, answering Lirssa, ?Yes, the plumbing has been sound all along, but with the gas pipes being checked, well, they didn?t want to risk a flooding should one of the pipes get damaged in the work. It is why some areas had water running at different times.?

?I shoulda thought of that, but well, it?s done now.?

Mrs. June nodded and sighed as she looked up and down the hallway. Sounds of children laughing and playing in their rooms, some few arguments that rose and fell, bounced down the corridors. Lirssa turned to check on the room, but Mrs. June put a hand to her shoulder. ?Wait, Lirssa. Let?s see if they can work it out on their own for a moment.?

As nice as Mrs. June was, she still had some things to learn about street kids, the loyalties they make and the territories they draw. Lirssa was skeptical, but in a moment the bickering subsided and all that was heard was laughter. ?Well, I think the best next thing is to get ?em all washed up. You may never know what you really got under layers of dirt, and I gotta be goin.?

?You?ll be back for our first supper, yes??

Lirssa slid down the rail and hopped off the end with a wave back, ?Killer good. See ya!? and left the home with such a glow of pride that she near felt like she was walking on air.