A livelihood

-Border Forest, near Jocelynn's Brothel. 0 DSTR, Noon-

Cecile’s silver locks were pulled back in a loose bun, the strands held together by a black ribbon. The hardwood floors ached beneath her bare feet as she walked through the dining area. Calling the room a dining area would be an overstatement. Truly, the entire first floor of the house was more open than not.

When an individual entered their home, the first thing they would notice to their right would be the kitchen. Stone countertops ran along the wall for the intentions of allowing more than one project to take place at once. At the center of the kitchen was an ‘island’ with a wooden countertop. Scattered around the kitchen were canisters of dried livers, dried plants, liquids of a wide range of colors, and house plants in small planters. In the furthest corner of the kitchen was a metal fireplace where the flames escaped upwards. The fire could be fed through small metal doors in the front of the fireplace. Sitting over top the open fire was metal grates where pots and pans could be placed on top. The walls of the kitchen had papers tacked to the wood; potions, recipes, drawings from the children that visited time to time, acted as an interesting wall paper. Some of the recipes posted were of the most common! such as a sugar shortbread.

There was an open double wide doorway that lead into the overestimated dining room. The door’s had been replaced by a curtain that had currently been pulled to one side. The dining table was an old eight seater with enough bumps and scratches to assume it had been passed down in the family. Cecile found no purpose in making new furniture if the wood being used had yet to be broken. Along the table were burn marks from pots being set down while they were still hot, and in the center of the table there were three tall, slender candles. In the corner of the dining area there was a long cabinet hutch with a buffet top. The wood was of fine product, most likely the most expensive thing they owned, and the contents were of mismatching plates of different colors and different china’s. The plates were used for their everyday eating, so never mind the quality in which they could be resold. The walls of the dining area were of a plain nature- except one wall. The wall that is being spoken of contained a large bay window. On both sides of the window were paintings of poisonous flowers, weeds, and berries that grew wild around the home, painted directly on the wall. They were the only remaining proof that Celestia had once called the house a home.

Returning to when a guest would first enter the home, upon entering if their sights remained straight, there would a long-ish, wide hallway. To the left was a sitting area, where a built-in bookshelf was filled. Two couches, three sitting chairs, and a large coffee table spread out within the room. Walking past the sitting room, there would be a set of stairs that would lead to the six bedrooms on the second floor. The house was truly one put to great use. Everything was placed in the most efficient fashion, and in the most convenient places.

There was a livelihood about the house. The five women moved about with reason, as if they knew to be expecting someone soon. Carla, the youngest, tidied up the rooms to the best of her ability. All the sisters, had dark auburn hair, and slightly different shades of green eyes. The only thing that could be of great use to tell them apart would be the slopes of their noses and their jawlines. They favored their father’s looks, but contained their mother’s bodily features. From behind, if you replaced their deep auburn hair with the bright shade of red, they all looked like Celestia at different heights. Though their striking similarities, Celestia favored their mother entirely. The only difference between their mother and Celestia would be the color of their eyes, the color of their hair, and their jaw.
“Willow! Could you please put more salt in the grits this time, I beg of you,” chimed out Wendy. Wendy was the second oldest with forest green eyes. She slouched over in complaint as Willow hunched over a pot in aggravation.

“How about you put yourself to use, and help mother cool the bread,” Willow snapped back. The personality of an eldest child is unique. They are pushed to embrace a mothering role while battling to be the sister needed amongst siblings. Willow’s hair was down and in loose waves. All the women wore similar dresses. Different shades of cream colored dresses, stained at the hem with age, and cut off above the elbow.

Cecile stood at the kitchen island pulling at cooked chicken with a grin on her face. Carmon sat at the dining room table with her nose shoved in a book.

“Chicken, grits, and eggs for lunch? They are going to think we are savages,” Carmon spoke under her breath, flavored with sarcasm.

“They are going to be thankful. If you don’t like it, you can very well starve,” Willow yelled out to her in frustration.

“Blah, blah, blah- they are going to choose to starve once they taste your bland slump of what you call grits,” Carmon shot back. Wendy giggled and popped a sliver of chicken into her mouth.

Wendy looked over her mother’s shoulder through the kitchen window. She couldn’t see anyone but she began to feel an overwhelming twinge of hunger. Cecile lifted her head to look around at the girls, and sighed. “Be on your best behavior; I have a feeling they will be on edge.”

Carla skipped into the kitchen, overboiling with excitement. “I just can’t WAIT! It has been a week since it was my turn to practice, and I am dying to spread a little,” Carla as she spoke began wiggling her fingers towards her mother in a playful fashion, “Carla goodness.”

Cecile raised a brow and giggled, “Please, can you just fetch another bucket of water?”

Carla hummed as she left the cottage through the front door, and walked through the garden to the side of the house. A water well covered in ivy stood tall, and inviting. Pulling the bucket from the side of well, she tossed it down and clung to the rope.

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