08-20-2022, 09:20 AM
[CW: prostitution; reference to sexual assault; reference to violence]
She couldn't stretch her stay with Elijah's much longer and that bastard Willaby would string her along forever. It was a nice place but a little too close to trouble, anyway. She felt uncomfortable when she thought of the possibility of running into Rose.
And so she had dropped her children off at her parents' place and was making her way to the Diamond Pony. She hadn't run into Lory anymore, and she hadn't heard from her. Never mind, she'd arrange it herself. She heard there was a new owner. Might be new in town. Might not know how to recognize a Longbottom. Might hire her. She didn't mind having men for money. It was easier than domestic service, where you still had the chance of the boss putting his hands wherever he liked anyway, and you had to slave about all day. But she wanted to get off the streets and do it somewhere save.
Beryl Silver was the name she had chosen for herself. 'Ruth Longbottom' would probably not even get her inside. But she had had a hard time coming up with a suitable name and so she had settled for a rip-off of Lory's. She had first considered 'Pearl' for gem, but maybe the Carringtons were still somehow involved with the Pony, and was this 'Pearl Carrington' that everyone was talking about. Beryl it was.
She was dressed in an old-fashioned, red, low-cut evening dress that she had found seventh- or eight-hand at a bargain. Her black curls were washed and oiled and up in a high, loose bun, with a few curls playfully framing her face. It was the day after she had taken her bath, and she had taken great care in washing this time. Her nails had never been cleaner. She had even managed to nick some perfume and had richly sprayed her neck, bosom and wrists - there was a whiff of it down there as well, in case the new boss wanted a test round. The bruise on her face had healed and she hadn't gone back on the streets at night since arriving at Elijah's. Her now clear cheeks were powdered. Her lips were red with paint.
The only thing about her appearance that now betrayed her lowly state was her somewhat sunken face and poor teeth - a few comfortable weeks at Elijah's could not counter years of rough living and malnourishment - and her worn down boots, though the dress covered those if she didn't move too fast.
It was getting dark when she approached the Pony, trying to walk confidently but slowly enough to keep her boots hidden under her dress. There was a bouncer out there, as she had anticipated. A handsome one too. Maybe she'd let him have a test round too, after his shift. Ruth smiled sweetly at him.
"Hello, my darling," she said in a ridiculous parody of a posh voice. "My name is Beryl Silver. What's yours?"
She couldn't stretch her stay with Elijah's much longer and that bastard Willaby would string her along forever. It was a nice place but a little too close to trouble, anyway. She felt uncomfortable when she thought of the possibility of running into Rose.
And so she had dropped her children off at her parents' place and was making her way to the Diamond Pony. She hadn't run into Lory anymore, and she hadn't heard from her. Never mind, she'd arrange it herself. She heard there was a new owner. Might be new in town. Might not know how to recognize a Longbottom. Might hire her. She didn't mind having men for money. It was easier than domestic service, where you still had the chance of the boss putting his hands wherever he liked anyway, and you had to slave about all day. But she wanted to get off the streets and do it somewhere save.
Beryl Silver was the name she had chosen for herself. 'Ruth Longbottom' would probably not even get her inside. But she had had a hard time coming up with a suitable name and so she had settled for a rip-off of Lory's. She had first considered 'Pearl' for gem, but maybe the Carringtons were still somehow involved with the Pony, and was this 'Pearl Carrington' that everyone was talking about. Beryl it was.
She was dressed in an old-fashioned, red, low-cut evening dress that she had found seventh- or eight-hand at a bargain. Her black curls were washed and oiled and up in a high, loose bun, with a few curls playfully framing her face. It was the day after she had taken her bath, and she had taken great care in washing this time. Her nails had never been cleaner. She had even managed to nick some perfume and had richly sprayed her neck, bosom and wrists - there was a whiff of it down there as well, in case the new boss wanted a test round. The bruise on her face had healed and she hadn't gone back on the streets at night since arriving at Elijah's. Her now clear cheeks were powdered. Her lips were red with paint.
The only thing about her appearance that now betrayed her lowly state was her somewhat sunken face and poor teeth - a few comfortable weeks at Elijah's could not counter years of rough living and malnourishment - and her worn down boots, though the dress covered those if she didn't move too fast.
It was getting dark when she approached the Pony, trying to walk confidently but slowly enough to keep her boots hidden under her dress. There was a bouncer out there, as she had anticipated. A handsome one too. Maybe she'd let him have a test round too, after his shift. Ruth smiled sweetly at him.
"Hello, my darling," she said in a ridiculous parody of a posh voice. "My name is Beryl Silver. What's yours?"
