ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
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Literature Text
When someone is mask, how will you ever see through them?
The steps seemed so daunting. If I step down, she will know I am coming. She’ll know what I’m for. But… I can’t sleep. Not on this. The maid’s foot wavered as it moved forward, gravity pulling her back even if her reach is determined. She gripped the railing, just to be sure she didn’t lose her chance to choose. She couldn’t allow herself to be reckless. If she were talk to Elizabeth, she would need to do so with a ready head. Elizabeth may as well have been the queen of conversation. She would see right through me if I rushed this…
Another laid in bed perfectly awake. Still, covers drawn, head on pillow, looking up, and yet perfectly awake. Her eyes did lower, but they would not close. In all her being, she tried her best to feel her connection to this place. The bed which was provided for her, the special role she was given, the love and affection she received… could it really be shared and still mean something? Even in your assurance… how could I know?
Footsteps… the sound was undeniable. Elizabeth collected herself as she sat atop the leather couch, the clouds of her melancholy mind dissipating as she heard the steps come closer. Her vulnerable state must be maintained. Her eyes must show tears. Her posture, hair, all must be in perfect condition. Her mind must be ready, and her spirit must be strong. The seamstress sat flawlessly atop the leather couch, a vision to be both admired and wept for.
Oh gosh… she’s so calm and poised. I must look like a mess. The maid lingered behind the stairway a bit before she was spoken to.
“There are many seats, despite the lack of furniture.”
Elizabeth spoke, her vibrant, violet eyes locked to the maid’s struggle. The seamstress waited with patience as her maid came in and took her spot on the floor, moving closer to Elizabeth after being beckoned to like a cat. I lost my words… I don’t think I can hold together much longer…Elizabeth directed her maid between her legs, her head resting between her knees. It was easier to talk this way.
The two were silent. Nothing but the creaking of the unused chains from the chandelier made a sound in the room as Elizabeth gently massaged her maid’s scalp. Both silently mourned, though only one would admit it visually. Elizabeth could feel her maid’s body shaking. It was not unexpected. If only to move forward, Elizabeth spoke.
“Life is unfair to dreams…”
The maid lifted her head slightly, feeling Elizabeth’s legs close in around her form, as if to cling to her and embrace her. She trembled, though she may not have realized it. It was unexpected.
“We are passionate creatures. We are dreamers. The cruel irony is we can only partially bring those dreams to life. The reality of those dreams is often distant from what we hope for… even if we feel it to be true.”
“She’s not coming back, is she…”
Elizabeth paused. Think it all she wanted, she couldn’t stand to hear it out loud. Today, she lost one of her dear dolls to the ignorance of the world. Taken from her in her own shop. Not dead, but close enough to where it stung just the same.
“I don’t know… however…”
Her maid seemed to physically respond to that word in a way that couldn’t be described.
“I am still a Mistress… I’m a dream weaver… a protector… a mentor… I may not have the authority to save everyone from ignorance, but…”
Her legs trembled. She had kept a strong composure for most of the day… but it was getting late, and she was tired. She clung to sanity and her sageness, but it would all be fabricated the more the thought lingered.
“…things can be taken from me too. I am not above reality.”
“Mistress?”
“Yes, Dear…”
“My question… my reason for coming down here… you seem deeply broken over one sub missing. She did visit often, and we all loved her lots… but I’ve watched you. You’ve been down here all night…”
“Pick one of your childhood toys to give away to a kid that breaks them.”
The maid paused… it was so elegantly put that she couldn’t think of a thing to say back to it.
“I… couldn’t.”
“Neither can I. I’ve built a special world around my dolls, my subs, everyone in this shop. If you take one from me, I will fight for it, and I will cry when it’s taken.”
“You care for us this much… even if you haven’t known us for that long…”
“Sweetheart…”
Elizabeth hugged her dear maid from behind, resting her cheek upon her head.
“Love does not work in quantities. It just is.”
Silence filled the room once more, both silently mourning together now. Somewhere above the stairs, another maid now slept soundly.
The steps seemed so daunting. If I step down, she will know I am coming. She’ll know what I’m for. But… I can’t sleep. Not on this. The maid’s foot wavered as it moved forward, gravity pulling her back even if her reach is determined. She gripped the railing, just to be sure she didn’t lose her chance to choose. She couldn’t allow herself to be reckless. If she were talk to Elizabeth, she would need to do so with a ready head. Elizabeth may as well have been the queen of conversation. She would see right through me if I rushed this…
Another laid in bed perfectly awake. Still, covers drawn, head on pillow, looking up, and yet perfectly awake. Her eyes did lower, but they would not close. In all her being, she tried her best to feel her connection to this place. The bed which was provided for her, the special role she was given, the love and affection she received… could it really be shared and still mean something? Even in your assurance… how could I know?
Footsteps… the sound was undeniable. Elizabeth collected herself as she sat atop the leather couch, the clouds of her melancholy mind dissipating as she heard the steps come closer. Her vulnerable state must be maintained. Her eyes must show tears. Her posture, hair, all must be in perfect condition. Her mind must be ready, and her spirit must be strong. The seamstress sat flawlessly atop the leather couch, a vision to be both admired and wept for.
Oh gosh… she’s so calm and poised. I must look like a mess. The maid lingered behind the stairway a bit before she was spoken to.
“There are many seats, despite the lack of furniture.”
Elizabeth spoke, her vibrant, violet eyes locked to the maid’s struggle. The seamstress waited with patience as her maid came in and took her spot on the floor, moving closer to Elizabeth after being beckoned to like a cat. I lost my words… I don’t think I can hold together much longer…Elizabeth directed her maid between her legs, her head resting between her knees. It was easier to talk this way.
The two were silent. Nothing but the creaking of the unused chains from the chandelier made a sound in the room as Elizabeth gently massaged her maid’s scalp. Both silently mourned, though only one would admit it visually. Elizabeth could feel her maid’s body shaking. It was not unexpected. If only to move forward, Elizabeth spoke.
“Life is unfair to dreams…”
The maid lifted her head slightly, feeling Elizabeth’s legs close in around her form, as if to cling to her and embrace her. She trembled, though she may not have realized it. It was unexpected.
“We are passionate creatures. We are dreamers. The cruel irony is we can only partially bring those dreams to life. The reality of those dreams is often distant from what we hope for… even if we feel it to be true.”
“She’s not coming back, is she…”
Elizabeth paused. Think it all she wanted, she couldn’t stand to hear it out loud. Today, she lost one of her dear dolls to the ignorance of the world. Taken from her in her own shop. Not dead, but close enough to where it stung just the same.
“I don’t know… however…”
Her maid seemed to physically respond to that word in a way that couldn’t be described.
“I am still a Mistress… I’m a dream weaver… a protector… a mentor… I may not have the authority to save everyone from ignorance, but…”
Her legs trembled. She had kept a strong composure for most of the day… but it was getting late, and she was tired. She clung to sanity and her sageness, but it would all be fabricated the more the thought lingered.
“…things can be taken from me too. I am not above reality.”
“Mistress?”
“Yes, Dear…”
“My question… my reason for coming down here… you seem deeply broken over one sub missing. She did visit often, and we all loved her lots… but I’ve watched you. You’ve been down here all night…”
“Pick one of your childhood toys to give away to a kid that breaks them.”
The maid paused… it was so elegantly put that she couldn’t think of a thing to say back to it.
“I… couldn’t.”
“Neither can I. I’ve built a special world around my dolls, my subs, everyone in this shop. If you take one from me, I will fight for it, and I will cry when it’s taken.”
“You care for us this much… even if you haven’t known us for that long…”
“Sweetheart…”
Elizabeth hugged her dear maid from behind, resting her cheek upon her head.
“Love does not work in quantities. It just is.”
Silence filled the room once more, both silently mourning together now. Somewhere above the stairs, another maid now slept soundly.
I'm going to be doing something a little different.
In case you don't know, I have a story/comic I'm steadily working on for Elizabeth and the verse she lives in:
blackroseelegance.deviantart.c…
I've been working on it for a while, but there's a certain quality that's lost when you try to do everything for a series in comic form by yourself. You're more inclined to sum up scenes rather than draw them out, skim over certain "chapters" for the sake of moving along with the story, etc. BRE is a very conversation-heavy series, and a lot of it depends on these relationships between the characters. These little moments that are hard to direct on pages without the "talking heads" trope, and some scenes would honestly be better in short-story form, so that's what I've decided to do.
Read the comic for the base storyline and connections. Read the archives for the deeper connections, side stories, conversations, etc. If this does well here, then I'll be sure to make more. I'll probably do the art for them much like this one: just a quick sketch with added values for the sake of visual. If someone wants to adopt it, feel free. If not, I'm fine with what I've made.~
This story stems from the end of Chapter 4 in the comic, so if you want further context, read up to that point. It's a little brief, and other archives will likely be longer. I just wanted to test the waters a bit since I know a good majority of my fanbase just wants to see the next pink diaper pic.
Nothing wrong with that. I just need to know whats the best use of my time.
Until next time~
~Rosie
In case you don't know, I have a story/comic I'm steadily working on for Elizabeth and the verse she lives in:
blackroseelegance.deviantart.c…
I've been working on it for a while, but there's a certain quality that's lost when you try to do everything for a series in comic form by yourself. You're more inclined to sum up scenes rather than draw them out, skim over certain "chapters" for the sake of moving along with the story, etc. BRE is a very conversation-heavy series, and a lot of it depends on these relationships between the characters. These little moments that are hard to direct on pages without the "talking heads" trope, and some scenes would honestly be better in short-story form, so that's what I've decided to do.
Read the comic for the base storyline and connections. Read the archives for the deeper connections, side stories, conversations, etc. If this does well here, then I'll be sure to make more. I'll probably do the art for them much like this one: just a quick sketch with added values for the sake of visual. If someone wants to adopt it, feel free. If not, I'm fine with what I've made.~
This story stems from the end of Chapter 4 in the comic, so if you want further context, read up to that point. It's a little brief, and other archives will likely be longer. I just wanted to test the waters a bit since I know a good majority of my fanbase just wants to see the next pink diaper pic.
Nothing wrong with that. I just need to know whats the best use of my time. Until next time~
~Rosie
© 2016 - 2024 Rosie-BRS
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Such beautiful writing and character building....