Somewhere in an insignificant, impoverished part of Allégoria, Audrey Sutton drags herself out of the pile of old, moth-eaten rags and sheets on the mouldy wood paneled floor of the tattered one room shack she calls home. She gets dressed and ready for another dreadful day at work, the only thing keeping her going is the reminder that today is the day of the week she would see her family, which consists of three children that her brother adopted off of the streets and, of course, her brother himself. She could feel nothing but pride for the uncanny bunch of misfits that she calls family, but had not always felt this way.
Her frustration had increased every time Charles came home with another little urchin, and although Audrey saw them initially as more unnecessary and easily avoidable mouths to feed they warmed up to her, and soon enough she could not bring herself to regret that they had been brought into their home. This ridiculous charade continued until Audrey had to move out, and find a higher paid job to support their family. Charles' 34 grias a week as an omnibus driver would no longer suffice to meet the needs of the very hungry and rapidly growing orphans in their care - not to mention her own growling stomach and Charles' insatiable appetite. Once a week she would visit Charles bringing food, supplies, money and love and they would make easy, enjoyable conversation over a decent meal. It was truly the highlight of her week.
Not that she didn't enjoy herself in other ways, if not she would go insane working in such a tedious environment without some form of constant entertainment. This, she got mostly from the bar downstairs. She had no money to spare towards any drinks for herself of course, but it didn't stop her from persuading those who did to purchase them for her. The woman who owned the building including the tavern beneath, The Madame, as she was very commonly addressed, let Audrey use the room, not for the pitiful change she dared call rent but rather for the customers she drew. The unspoken agreement was that she show up as many nights as she could, make merry with the barmaids and use all at her disposal - ergo herself - to coax the men (and even some of the ladies who were open to it) at the bar to buy more drinks for themselves and, hopefully, spend money on her if she was lucky. Audrey was usually lucky. This meant many nights returning to her room a little more than tipsy, but she could aways trust those under The Madame's employ to keep her out of any serious trouble. As a principle she never brought anybody upstairs as a principle - but that didn't stop her from engaging in a little light petting once in a while, if she saw someone she fancied. She did quite enjoy herself, however, picking up the most fantastic things to say from the drunken sailors and joining in with their songs and games. Also making fast friends with the waitresses and barmaids and others like herself, essentially hired to entice the customers into spending more money, and learning - with and from them - to hone her ability to convince others to do as she pleased.
Audrey watched the sky go through shades of navy to a soft byzantine purple and finally baby blue as she finally comes to the end of her long trek to work. With a deep breath she steps inside to meet a chorus of loud chatter quickly morphing into hushed voices, accusing looks and barely hidden complacent smirks as people notice her arrival. She doesn't bother to wonder what outlandish accusation they have in store for her today, continuing to her station knowing that if she did, it would ruin her good mood.
First, her so-called colleagues had accused her of bearing a ridiculous amount of children as a result of a ridiculous amount of of promiscuity. This particular scrap of hearsay didn't bother Audrey too much, not as much as some other pieces of gossip. Such as a rumour that never ceased to make her blood boil, even by mere thought of it. An atrocious falsehood in which she had been disowned from her family and had dishonoured their name in a great number of spectacularly impossible and barbaric ways - the stories became more outrageous each time she heard them, she'd soon stopped bothering to keep track. Although some did amuse her a little bit, these mostly consisted of her in some type of supernatural context and helped to remind her of exactly how untrue all these bruits were.
Taking up her needlework she wilfully forces herself into the trance-like state between boredom and resignation, in which she does not react to anything apart from the bell that informed her that her day of work was over and that she needed to collect her daily wages and leave. She knew that this was the only way she could bear to sit all day, in the same place repeating the same action, while simultaneously ignoring the other ladies in the room of whom she was, of course, the subject of their whispered conversations.
However, when the alarm does sound and it comes to her turn in the queue to collect her measly sum of 22 grias she is stopped by the woman who was to give them to her, murmurs rise from the rest of the queue as it starts to trickle into a crowd, and a feeling of dread settles within her.
Ms potter, the woman appointed in charge of responsibilities such as handing out the wages at the end of each work day, and keeping things in check generally, deems it fit to abuse her privileges - only when the factory owner (a somewhat reasonable if not bland man) is not around. One way the woman manages to abuse this power is by occasionally letting an employee go, and she is rarely contested as it means that there are less people to divide the money among. Ms Potter also sees nothing wrong with making a scene when it came to firing workers, in fact she seemed to welcome the crowd of women around and the jeers and murmurs that caused added humiliation to the unlucky woman's already tragic plight.
Ms Potter was a heavy set woman in her mid-forties with an air of smugness that seemed to hang limp and tired around her, much like the dusty wig she wore relentlessly. The woman favoures expensive looking furs and leathers, although the reason she chooses to wear them to the stale and sooty atmosphere of the factory is unknown to Audrey.
"It seems that this is a good time as ever to discuss the terms of your resignation, don't you agree Miss Sutton?" Chirps Ms Potter, louder than necessary. The the condescending smile and pompous tone the woman uses is like gasoline to the fire of Audrey's already simmering temper.
"I was not aware that I had resigned, Ms Potter." Through clenched teeth she mimicked the woman's chirpy tone and mirrored her sickly smile. It took all of Audrey's willpower and then some to keep her her words on the 'sociacially acceptable' side of her vocabulary.
"Oh don't worry, I had it done for you, it has probably already reached Mr Stone." Audrey crosses her arms and raises one dainty eyebrow, waiting for further explanation and not daring to speak for the fear of her words severely damaging the woman's dignity. Ms Potter took the hint and proceeded.
"Although I'm not one for gossip," Audrey notes the blatant lie, and motions for her to continue.
A brief look of surprise flashes across Ms Potter's face, suggesting that she is not used to anyone taking this attitude with her. Despite this she continues, the self satisfied smirk returning to her face, "I've come across some interesting topics of conversation concerning the reputation of this company, in regards to you in particular. It truly does not concern me where your money goes or what you do with it as long as I receive my earnings, but I fear that we may have a decline in business due to a period of negative repute caused by your allowing certain rumours to spread about you. I suggest in future, should you ever find yourself at another position of work, you should be more... discreet in your private endeavours. I'm terribly sorry Miss Sutton, but unfortunately I cannot afford to allow you to keep working for this department of the company."
The unapologetic, even triumphant tone to woman's voice only confirms that she regarded this particular development anything but unfortunate. That, along with the half hidden snickers from her so-called coworkers only serves to heat up the fury that pools behind her eyes. Audrey suddenly saw no need to be cautious of the state of Mrs Potter's dignity.
Audrey did not explode as much as she unleashed, her words a low, smooth torrent of knives that cleanly cut down not just mrs potter, but the whole wretched company and it's despicable employees. The manner in which she expressed her opinions were painfully colourful and mercilessly creative, after all as an artist, what better way is there?
The small satisfaction she gets from horror-stricken look that contorts the otherwise usually smug, complacent face of the woman in front of her and the shocked gasps from the crowd don't begin to compare to the awful sensation of guilt and hopelessness as the severity of the situation dawns on her; the self loathing and remorse she suddenly feels for her overly harsh words when the reality sets in. She should have been begging for her job back, grovelling at Mrs Potters' feet just like the woman wants. She'd lost her job. What would she say to Charles?
Only when she had walked, chin high and shoulders squared, onto the crowded street and down the road, when she is sure that nobody affiliated with the detestable company is around, sure that news of her less than solid disposition would not spread back to her adversaries at her now previous workplace, does she let the tears fall. She stumbles into an alley and slides on her back down the wall, letting the sobs wrack her body and her anguish consume her. Now that she had foolishly gone and lost her job, how would she provide for her loved ones?
"Excuse me?"
Audrey jolts at the deep male voice that echoes down the alleyway."I couldn't help but notice you here... Are you okay?" He seemed then to notice her tears, "Oh um, I see..." The voice is kind although nervous and unsure, yet the hands that hold her are big and strong, and they move deliberately as they pull her weeping self up from the ground.
"Here," he says handing her a folded handkerchief to wipe away her tears. When she is finished, and her vision is cleare she is able to have a proper look at him; with a ghost smirk, she notices that the man is indeed quite handsome. Despite this, he is a little on the pretty side with longish strawberry blonde hair and long eyelashes - which is a surprisingly pleasant contrast to his strong jaw and lean, slightly bulky body. Which, she noticed then, is quite close to hers. With all her grace she sidesteps him, aware of the wall at her back, suppresses a slight blush when she realised that she must have been staring, quickly averting her eyes after a glimpse of amusement in his.
"Th-" Her voice comes out unsteady and she clears her throat before another attempt, "Thank you, kind sir," She meets his bright blue gaze with her violet one and his gaze widens in astonished curiosity.
"Your eyes are purple." He stated lamely.
"And yours blue.." She slightly confused, forgetting that the plum shade of her eyes aren't very common. She quickly recovers from her momentary state of weakness. "I should get going now, I have somewhere to be..." She says more to herself than anyone him.
"Perhaps we'll meet again?" The blue-eyed man suggests hopefully. Audrey doesn't reply, knowing it is less likely than this chance encounter; well dressed respectable men that looked like him only came around these parts of Allé in the dreams of girls like her.
Audrey is already moving towards the main street, she flashes him a roguish smile as she turned the corner, a silent promise for if they ever did meet again. The man can only stare after her as she makes her way out of the alley towards her destination with a newfound fortitude.