TaintedHeart
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2005
- Posts
- 419
A certain radience seemed to be drawn as the centuries of France and England began to drag on. Still the best of friends, the twin countries had a natural feel of royalty. And during this age, while Queen Elizabeth held the throne in England and, a century of lively poets, plays, and interest in music unfolded brightly. And thus spread on, like a title wave through Europe beautifully. What was more, among the streets of France, among the more invisible of places such people began to appear. They were the Gypsies.
And Carmen, well, she had to be one of the most beautiful of all. She was, however, the trouble maker. The heart breaker, seductress, she tended to start the most trouble among them all. Carmen was bad, and she knew it. That was what made her all the more interesting.
Within the Square of the market of lower France, the gypsies would dance, Carmen with her childishness stirring fights among the commoner men, and of course, fleeing before any of the real trouble could start. Among her people she was loved, when she wasn't stirring trouble. And being that she rarely came to the market, it was no surprise to find her there the day only to catch a good word. A word of a ball, a massive party at the Palace of the King himself. True, she knew of the three Princes, and that so many noble of men would be there, but the possibility seemed difficult to grasp.
Poets and musicians had come to simply study them, the gypsies in their dance, their beauty of tanned skin and raven hair, fluid motions of dance and learn of how far they had travelled before settling in France. Of course, Carmen added the mystic, exotic and dangerous to the title Gypsy. But she thought she was only adding spice and fire to give them attention. Occasionally the wrong attention.
Her perch was picked delicately, dressed lightly in the vibrant red dress that clung to her figure, and exposed much of her smooth arms and shoulders when the light material golden shawl wasn't wrapped around her shoulders. Her feet were covered in light gold slippers, easy to remove if need be.That long, raven hair fell in flame like licking waves down her shoulders. Her eyes were a light, honey shade of gold, long eye lashes matching well as a devious smile was placed upon full, red painted lips.
Twin golden hoops hung from her ears. It was easy to tell Carmen among the others. Her skin was fairly light compaired to theirs, but easily noticeable among the other French Men and woman. And much unlike them, her form was graceful, delicate, but with beautiful, quite noticeable curves and such.
So, upon that white wall, with the stands below holding goods and fruits as far as the eye could see, and her people below upon a mat there she could not help but give the smallest of smiles. Half of the gazes of the crowds, be then Cardinals of the French church, Soldiers of France, Commoner men, poets, musicians, or her own people, were placed up there, upon Carmen.
"Oh Carmen, come, won't you satisfy the crowd with a dance?" Perhaps she might. But already she could see, not far from there a horse drawn carriage of regal sort. A Noble, or even the castle dwellers comming to look over their land. What did it matter, they were doing no wrong. Simply trying to entertain and gain a wealth and fortune of their own. She looked down at the man, a gypsy like her, the man who had raised her as her father and mother were no longer around. He smiled up to her.
"Very well..." A cheer rose from the crowd as Carmen gracefully stood, and with a delicate turn of her body in the air, landed carefully upon the soft quilted mat below, colorfully designed specially for dance. Slipping off her shoes, that golden anklet resting there she listened as the music rose and she joined among the dancers, drawing the gaze of many, seeing them all, the poets and musicians, soldiers dressed in uniform and cardinals in red standing by. And her people, so happy to see the red roses falling at her feet as the crowd cheered on and tossed coins upon the mat. That carriage drew closer, but what did she care? She was Carmen.
And Carmen, well, she had to be one of the most beautiful of all. She was, however, the trouble maker. The heart breaker, seductress, she tended to start the most trouble among them all. Carmen was bad, and she knew it. That was what made her all the more interesting.
Within the Square of the market of lower France, the gypsies would dance, Carmen with her childishness stirring fights among the commoner men, and of course, fleeing before any of the real trouble could start. Among her people she was loved, when she wasn't stirring trouble. And being that she rarely came to the market, it was no surprise to find her there the day only to catch a good word. A word of a ball, a massive party at the Palace of the King himself. True, she knew of the three Princes, and that so many noble of men would be there, but the possibility seemed difficult to grasp.
Poets and musicians had come to simply study them, the gypsies in their dance, their beauty of tanned skin and raven hair, fluid motions of dance and learn of how far they had travelled before settling in France. Of course, Carmen added the mystic, exotic and dangerous to the title Gypsy. But she thought she was only adding spice and fire to give them attention. Occasionally the wrong attention.
Her perch was picked delicately, dressed lightly in the vibrant red dress that clung to her figure, and exposed much of her smooth arms and shoulders when the light material golden shawl wasn't wrapped around her shoulders. Her feet were covered in light gold slippers, easy to remove if need be.That long, raven hair fell in flame like licking waves down her shoulders. Her eyes were a light, honey shade of gold, long eye lashes matching well as a devious smile was placed upon full, red painted lips.
Twin golden hoops hung from her ears. It was easy to tell Carmen among the others. Her skin was fairly light compaired to theirs, but easily noticeable among the other French Men and woman. And much unlike them, her form was graceful, delicate, but with beautiful, quite noticeable curves and such.
So, upon that white wall, with the stands below holding goods and fruits as far as the eye could see, and her people below upon a mat there she could not help but give the smallest of smiles. Half of the gazes of the crowds, be then Cardinals of the French church, Soldiers of France, Commoner men, poets, musicians, or her own people, were placed up there, upon Carmen.
"Oh Carmen, come, won't you satisfy the crowd with a dance?" Perhaps she might. But already she could see, not far from there a horse drawn carriage of regal sort. A Noble, or even the castle dwellers comming to look over their land. What did it matter, they were doing no wrong. Simply trying to entertain and gain a wealth and fortune of their own. She looked down at the man, a gypsy like her, the man who had raised her as her father and mother were no longer around. He smiled up to her.
"Very well..." A cheer rose from the crowd as Carmen gracefully stood, and with a delicate turn of her body in the air, landed carefully upon the soft quilted mat below, colorfully designed specially for dance. Slipping off her shoes, that golden anklet resting there she listened as the music rose and she joined among the dancers, drawing the gaze of many, seeing them all, the poets and musicians, soldiers dressed in uniform and cardinals in red standing by. And her people, so happy to see the red roses falling at her feet as the crowd cheered on and tossed coins upon the mat. That carriage drew closer, but what did she care? She was Carmen.
