What A Wonderful Life

[scarletwitch]

Wanda Maximoff lounged stretched out on a plush velvet couch that sank into the green of their lush lawn. She was dressed in a silk red dress, a rich--dark--scarlet red that shone in the quiet daylight. Gold and diamond earrings glittered in the sun as a "simple" matching, 24K gold bracelet rested on her wrist. Her perfectly smooth and sculpted leg came peeking delicately out from the slit that ran up her dress, leading down into top-line designed shoes of an almost dizzying heel height. She scooped up a plump grape with her long fingers from the tray held by that girl. What's her name? That--That one. Oh-Right, Amara..something. And lazily set it in her mouth.

She rolled her eyes at the talk of her sister, speaking more on their "duties" and "responsibilities" as the chosen, important, kept daughters of their father. They needed to keep up an image. They needed to keep up the name. They needed to--They needed to--They needed to---

"Oh, would you just stop Lorna? You're always business. Always! Do you really think anyone cares? I could spit on a passerby's face and they'd still love me."

Ugh, working this hard won't make Daddy love you anymore, Lorna. Though--I don't really think anything would!

The thought made her smirk slightly as she defiantly looked up at her older sister, still chewing on that hand-picked grape.

[Tag: Polaris!! Magma (if you want and don't mind being treated like a slave!! ^-^) And then..well I guess anyone else if they really want to join ;D]

[magma]

The less intelligent servants would have rejoiced at the sight of the mistress taking her irritation out on someone other than them, but Amara was different. Amara learned from experience. And one thing she had learned - and learned well - was that it was only a matter of time before her mistress's anger would be directed at herself. Thus it was only natural that her body reacted accordingly in preparation, her back growing rigid and her fingers turning into a deathly shade of white as she clutched at the platter of grapes. Somehow, the anticipation of the blow did little to soothe the sting of it; she had learned that too. There were still too many uncertainties: why would the mistress lash out at her this time? Was she standing too close? Was her drab uniform offensive? Did the grapes taste too sour? Not that any of that mattered; knowing her transgression beforehand was a luxury Amara rarely received. And even if she did have a way to discover it before the mistress turned on her, unless she could find a way to rectify the mistake before it was noticed, that too did not matter. Because once the mistress began to subjugate her to her temper, there was nothing Amara could do but bow her head and wait. Explanations were worthless; she knew better than to speak out, to utter words other than 'My deepest apologies; it will never happen again.'

It was in this way that Amara was like every other human, every other slave: fear was an inescapable part of her day. It was awful, wretched, tortuous...

It was normal.

[Kitty Pryde]

When she woke up that morning, Katherine could tell that it was going to be a good day. First sign: the sun was shining; second sign: no headache; and third sign: her favourite dress was clean, pressed, and hung up for her.

But as the morning gave way to afternoon, the daily task of finding something entertaining to hold her attention grew more insistent. She wasn’t content to just waste the day away lounging about like her sisters. It was hardly a trait befitting a princess, but she couldn’t sit still for too long without doing something.

She tried her best to make the effort, though. She was the luckiest orphan in the world to have been taken in by the King himself, and there were certain expectations that went along with that. She had an image to uphold, but there was something she cared about much more than that:

She just wanted to fit in. Wanda and Lorna weren’t her real sisters, and she knew how they looked down on her for that, but made every effort to try to belong.

So it looked like lazing around outside doing nothing was what was on her agenda for the rest of the day. Letting out a deep sigh, she was just about to leave her room when she paused. Hesitating a moment, she quickly grabbed the pocket sized book of poetry from her bureau before rushing from her room. Just in case she needed a break.

Stepping outside, the book hidden behind her, she approached the girls gathered in the garden. She always felt so plain compared to her sisters, and they were definitely rocking the gorgeous dresses today. Catching just the tail end of Wanda’s words, Katherine saw this as her way to jump in. She needed something witty and charming and loving.

“Of course they would!” she exclaimed instead.

[magma]

Had Amara's fear of her mistress Wanda not checked her, she would have danced at Princess Katherine's sudden appearance in the garden. Though she knew she had no business ranking her mistresses, Amara could not deny that Princess Katherine was her favorite for the lady was unlike the others. She did not scare Amara or remind her that she was just a lowly human with the purposeful intent of tormenting her. And although Amara would not be so stupid as to imagine that Princess Katherine ever dwelt on her well-being, for all her superiors were far too preoccupied with more important matters to do that, she fancied that the lady at least never thought ill of her. In her mind, Amara imagined that the princess could acknowledge her hard work and loyalty to her...and maybe even respected it?

This uplifting thought filling Amara's mind, her fingers began to itch to offer the platter of grapes to Princess Katherine. But the reminder that the grapes belonged to another one of her mistresses was enough to stay her hand. She had always had the impression that Princess Wanda was not too fond of sharing, but Amara was far from brave enough to test that hypothesis.

And so, her features as impassive as if not a thought had crossed her mind, Amara remained by Princess Wanda's side.