What Can't be Bought
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Autumn Sativus on 22-04-2009, 08:40:19</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>22-04-2009, 08:40:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew Sharpe had been rather surprised to be invited to the esteemed Bridgeman estate for an art auction of sorts. It appeared that the Bridgeman estate master had lost their value gambling, a horrible addiction that was, and could no longer afford to have everything. He was mostly auctioning off the art within the estate, but there were rumored to be some other items. He honestly could not understand why the man of the house would choose to waste his money on such frivolous things as gambling it all away in silly card games. He could easily guess that he was worth more than the entire Bridgeman family, though few people were entirely aware of what his fortune could be.<br><br>The Sharpe household was one of business. What kind of business was not discussed among the public, only among Andrew and his customers and providers. As far as he was concerned his line of 'trade' was a very private sector, and he did his best to keep it out of the eyes of the public and the mouths of the gossipers. The problem with living in a neighborhood for the rich was that the women of the households had nothing better to do than formulate and pass on rumors about the rest of the neighbors.<br><br>Andrew sat down in one of the auction seats, picking up his number, 17, and looking up at the item that was currently being bid on. A painting, it looked like a Monet, but he could see from his seat in the third row that it was not real. His attention was barely on the painting. Before he realized it he looked up and it appeared that four or five items had sold. He wasn't even thinking about anything... his mind was just elsewhere.<br><br>He'd been beginning to wonder where the head of the household was when he heard a very muffled squeal coming from a room off in the distance. He brushed it off the first time, knowing well that there would be plenty of servants and slaves about, he could imagine that he had plenty of women about who's intended purpose was for sex. He shook his head at the thought, disgusted by the idea of it. Women were not objects to be done with as one wished, they were human being with emotions, and they deserved a choice in everything just as much as men did. It was half of the reason that he did the things he did, training women to be proper, but to have their own mind when the time was right. For the right money he would train slaves to do almost anything, though he did have (rather reasonable, in his opinion) limits that would not bend.<br><br>A scream this time, and not one of the people in the room thought to turn their head toward the sound. He growled lowly to himself at the ignorance of people these days, a hand brushing through his curly golden locks as he stepped out of the auction room and moved toward the sound. A security guard followed him out, but a quick glare from the icy aquamarine eyes of the 6'5" man was enough to send the guard back to his place in the auction room.<br><br>Andrew had just hit the stairs when he heard a second scream, picking up into a run, his long legs carrying him quickly up the stairs toward the scream. From the thud he'd just heard, it wasn't hard to pick out the door from which it came behind either. He honestly hoped he wouldn't be interrupting on some enjoyable sex session where the woman had just gotten a little too rowdy.<br><br>He was no longer sorry for breaking the lock as he kicked in the door, coming into a large room to find a man about three quarters of his height holding a girl taller than himself against the wall. He could see a hand grasping tightly at one of her breasts, the look on the man's face maniacal. And this was the impression that he first received of the master of the Bridgeman estate.<br><br>"Get off of her." he muttered as he took five long strides across the room, his hand removing the one on the girl's chest and twisting it up behind the man's back as he took the one from her neck and did the same, his muscles easily holding the short man back from the girl. He looked over at her, his tone of voice changing to something much sweeter. "Would you please wait outside the door for me sweetie?" he murmured, his head turning toward the unhinged door as he twisted on the wrists of her master a little harder.<br><br>"You should learn to have a little respect for women, you know." he growled, pulling both of the mans wrists into one hand as he pulled a large collection of 100 pound notes from his pocket. "I'll take her. This is more than she's worth to you. It's more than you're worth, you filthy scumbag." He dropped the money on the floor in front of the man, pushing him down along with the money before removing his hands. "I expect not to hear another word out of you about this, and the girl will come home with me. Let me tell you something, Master Bridgeman. When you respect your women, they respect you in return. Try it some time, maybe you won't be forced to attempt raping poor innocent women."<br><br>And with that, he stormed out of the room, pausing outside the door where he'd asked the woman to wait and looking around for her. He brushed off his white shirt and black slacks, checking his pocket watch before looking around the hallway again. He could imagine she'd tucked herself into a corner somewhere. "Miss?" he called gently, taking a few steps down the hall to start looking for her. She hadn't looked too healthy, but hopefully she would shine up well with some new clothing, some real food and a hot bath; he did worry now that she wouldn't come out of hiding, her fate was worse than death here at the Bridgeman home. He'd have to wait to find out until he returned home how she would really look, many of the women he'd seen around these parts disguised themselves to be 'unattractive' in hoped that they would avoid situations such as the one that had just occurred. Andrew sighed. Before he could worry about getting her healthy, he'd have to find her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 06:16:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The Bridgeman estate was up in the air. No one was quiet sure what was going to happen, it was all the gossip among the servants within the house, after all there was not much fondness for Mathis Bridgeman among them, he was too cruel and taxing a master. Perhaps a few, the butler, the upper man servants who were allowed to follow the Master's example enjoyed their jobs, including the benefits of molesting any poor maid who could not protect herself. Women did not last long within the house, at least not chaste ones. <br><br>Faith had been told that when she had first been brought into the house, her mother had been a tenant, working as a maid for the housekeeper at one of the summer estates out in the country. After her mother's death the housekeeper had taken her on, to work herself and try to eek out a living. But her luck had turned bad when her elder brother had gambled her away a card game with Mathis. <br><br>Gambling was a wicked thing.<br><br>In all honesty there was no weakness of man she abhorred more. But she had escaped notice for over a year, granted, the treatment was still rough, bad and there were some attempts at molestation, at rape. Faith though knew how to hide her looks, blackening her skin with soot and dirt, passing up food to make her naturally full figure seem smaller, less like the armful men usually looked for when in the mood for a tumble. The raven haired girl had been in a parlor, dusting as she was suppose to, thinking she was safe to be here alone since the auction was taking place. Only that proved to be false. <br><br>A yelp sounded from her lips as she was sized from behind and she spared a moment to wish she had not sent Anna one to the next room to tend. Hard, mean hands clamped hard on her wrists, and she yanked, thinking that perhaps it was Kevin, the persistent footman. Yet as she was turned in her captor's arms she realized it was in fact Mr. Bridgeman himself and she trembled, there were not any good tales of one who came to his notice, unless of course they were the slave girls who enjoyed the type of attention he gave. Faith was not one of them, she had retained her virginity through great effort and cleverness and her heart sank, even as she struggled and let out screams. Someone had to hear.<br><br>But would anyone care?<br><br>She couldn't think like that, someone would save her. Fear filled her and her breathing came fast, erratic as she cried out when the Master's sweaty meaty hand circled her throat and pressed in, the only reason she could still summon the air to scream was because of the metal collar around her neck. The long loathed symbol of her status was saving her from suffocating as his free hand tore at her dress, greedily seizing upon her breast and Faith found herself suddenly feeling like she was growing to throw up. Yet something happened, freedom came suddenly and she dropped to her knees, panting and trembling for a brief moment before scrambling up and away, away from the man who had touched her and the looming figure of her male savior. The slave girl's eyes lifted for a moment, the color a vivid green, like poison, as she stared up at the blond haired angel who had rescued her. At his words, sinking in slowly she nodded and left the room as quickly as she could gather herself.<br><br>Once out in the hallway she realized she didn't know what to do. If she stayed here her lot would be worse come the night, he must know that right? So would he take her with him? Faith raised her hands to rub her temples tenderly before deciding to hide, to hopefully avoid anymore notice. Thankful for her drab gray servant dress she pressed back into the shadows, tucking herself up and away so that no one could easily notice her. <br><br>The angel man appeared then and she hesitated, suddenly afraid she couldn't trust him anymore then any other male. Her father had been a hard hand with her, her brother a touch better, at least physically, but he had not cared what he gambled with that night. But, no matter what he was, at least he wouldn't physically force himself on her like Mr. Bridgeman had and so she slipped out of the shadows, feeling a touch light headed, tripping over her skirts for a moment before catching herself. Perhaps she shouldn't have skipped breakfast after all. Faith was tall for a woman, 5"8, long legs and not amount of dirt and soot could hide the sweet shape of her features, though she tried hard. Her face revealed anxity as she came toward him, eyes on the ground. <br><br>"Yes sir?" her voice was a hushed whisper, with a tone of respect and a touch of fear.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 07:05:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mr. Sharpe sighed thankfully as the woman slid out from the shadowy corner where she'd found refuge. He sighed, moving to her as she tripped and holding out his arms to catch her. She managed to catch herself before she fell, but he'd been prepared to be there if she hadn't. He gently brought her chin up to look at him, pulling his finger away quickly as he didn't want to scare or worry her by touching her after such a traumatizing event.<br><br>The blonde angel raised an eyebrow as he noticed the soot covering her face. She'd been trying to avoid a situation like that. Poor girl. Andrew sighed, shaking his head softly before giving her a small smile, his crystal-like eyes watching her swirling poisonous ones. "You have beautiful eyes, dear." he murmured, mesmerized by them for a moment. When he pulled back to reality he opened his mouth again, trying to keep the smile to reassure her. "My name is Andrew Sharpe. I'm sorry that you've had to deal with such a situation from the one who is supposed to be looking out for your well being."<br><br>He stepped back from her, giving her more space just in case she'd want it before holding out ahand to her. "I'd like to bring you home with me, if you'll come along, Miss..." he murmured, the first acknowledgement that things would be different with Andrew. He would give her choices, let her make her own decisions, her own mistakes. He was not cruel, but his temper sometimes got away from him. Though he would never take a hand to an unwilling woman, in any way, he might frighten them from time to time with a louder tone.<br><br>So long as the woman would not cause trouble, and would follow the orders he did occasionally give, it wouldn't be a problem. He could through the soot that once she'd been properly fed for a while, she would be rather beautiful. Perhaps this one had the potential to become one of his personal servants. His mind was cranking the gears and he thought about it, the potential that she had to be great. He smiled again, his face lighting up with the white of his teeth. A small gesture with his head toward the outstretched hand would be his last offer in such a way, and he could only hope that she would accept the offer. There was no doubt it would be a better life for her.<br><br>Andrew's home was a place of comfort for the people who worked for him. Though they did not receive a salary, they lived a life of luxury, at least in comparison to most in their positions. On the lower levels of the house were the quarters for the staff. Each had their own room, a washroom for each four servants, full access to the kitchen so long as they would prepare and clean for themselves, a leisure area for when they were not working. It was not a bad life, to work for Andrew in his home and office. Though still, he had plans for this one, at least until she was back to health, then he would need to decide where she really belonged. Something told him she was special.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 07:31:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Faith wasn't sure what to make of the angel man. Her eyes were wary, guarded as she looked up at him. Though she was tall for a woman, he was tall for a man, well over 6 feet and she found herself slightly disconcerted by having to tilt her head back to look at him. When he complimented her she realized how much of her face she revealed by tilting her head back and she swiftly lowered it, her eyes stuck on the floor as she clenched her hands in her skirts, hiding the fine tremor that ran through her. She was afraid again, she hated that.<br><br>Was he going to hurt her now? Demand that she go with him since he saved her? The servant girl shifted slightly, another step back from him, he was too close. Faith glanced up at him, through her lashes and saw him smile, feeling a part of the fear inside her ease a touch as he spoke, he sounded nice, he seemed polite, thoughtful. Mr. Sharpe, she would never be too familiar, never say or even think of him as Andrew, that wasn't proper. He was one of Them, she was a servant, a slave. <br><br>The emerald eyed female watched him warily, rather like a slightly feral cat, certainly there was something slightly feline about the cast of her eyes. When a hand was offered toward her she tensed completely, his words making her freeze. It made no sense, why would he want to take her back to his home? He had to have many servants much prettier and more welcoming then she was, but Faith wasn't going to pass up a chance at a better life, anything would be better then being left here now, the Bridgeman's were not kind people. The young Miss B, Beatrice Bridgeman, was a harsh mistress for seventeen, just a year younger then the tall raven haired Faith, and yet Faith carried many bruises and cuts from her treatment in those slender lily white hands. <br><br>"Miss Faith sir, but me thinks it ain't right for one like me to hold one like ye's hand. Dir'y sir, mu'h too dir'y." <br><br>Her voice was a soft husky sound, one that many man might enjoy hearing, but it was clear her education had been neglected in her upbringing. The words she did say were said slowly, apparent that she was nervous and near crushingly shy of speaking, Faith disliked drawing any sort of attention to herself but she took a step closer to him, fighting the trembling inside her, but keeping her hands hidden in her skirts.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 12:11:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Faith carried many bruises and cuts from her treatment in those slender lily that she was nervous and near crushingly shy of speaking, Faith disliked drawing any sort of attention to herself but she took a step closer to him, fighting skirts.<br><br>Andrew cringed as she spoke, the voice was beautiful, but the words needed to be tamed. He realized that the Bridgeman's didn't care for the education of their servant population either. Sighing softly and shaking his head, he made a note that he'd need to teach her to speak like a lady. Perhaps one of the older women would be willing to take on that responsibility. He wouldn't mind to do it himself, but it might be faster if he had someone else teaching her during the day while he was at work.<br><br>He shook his head softly, his hand moving closer to one of hers, offering once again to take it, to show that she was not just the dirt under his feet. Not to Andrew. His place for this girl was within his own private suite*. At the end of the hall on the top floor a large wooden door locked the regular staff out from his private quarters. Just inside the first door would be a large bedroom with it's own washroom. And on the adjoining wall was the door into his suite, a sitting area, large washroom and similarly large bedroom to accommodate to the needs of himself and if he should ever find one, a wife.<br><br>He waited patiently, hoping that she would take his hand, if for no other reason than out of respect. He wanted her to feel safe with him, and though he knew that it would take a long time to get to the point she needed, a little bit of reassurance and hopefulness would do her well for the time being. Eventually he hoped to have each of his employees fully trust him, he would never do anything to hurt one of them, even if he did get upset from time to time. He'd never done anything worse than raise his voice though, which was a lot better than most master's of their house hold could say.<br><br>Andrew's voice was low, but held some gentleness through the tone. He was careful not to be too rough, because even joking with the wrong added touch to his voice could make it sound rather intimidating for many. Bright eyes watched the girl, Faith, she said her name was. What a beautiful name, he thought to himself before thinking to mention it aloud. "You have a very elegant name, Miss Faith." he murmured, taking a step toward the door and hoping that she would follow. His hand still held out for hers, but he would understand if she did not wish to take the hold of a stranger who was bringing her home. From her point of view he could imagine it would seem life would not be a whole lot better. At least she would know he would never try such things with her body though, that would always be hers alone, to give to whom she wished.<br><br>* ((Picture something like this (http://i406.photobucket.com/albums/pp146/natasha_nikoli/mastersuit.jpg).))
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 19:58:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mr. Sharpe wasn't the type to give up apparently, but he wasn't shouting, nor was he forcing her to do anything. Instead of grabbing her as he pleased and making her do something he was letting her chose. But why couldn't he just take her words and let her go with him? Faith felt uneasy about touching his hand, and her eyes were lowered, though assessing him from beneath her lashes. <br><br><em>Why do he want to hold my dirty hand?</em> She wondered before shyly, slowly, placing that hand in his. Her hands were not badly treated, it was obvious she tried to take care of her skin as much as she could, but there were calluses. The shape was elegant though, fingers easily meant to play piano with their length. <br><br>Faith couldn't help the surprise when he spoke and called her name elegant, she lifted her eyes to him and blinked in shock. Elegant? Nothing about her was elegant, not in the dowdy gray servants gown, not the slightly rusted metal collar around her neck that chafed her skin, not the dirt rubbed into her skin to hide its pale beauty. Yet her cheeks still flushed under the graying effects of the soot and dirt at his compliment before she lowered her eyes again.<br><br>"Me thinks stayin' here mu'h longer wo'd be bad sir."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 20:51:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew gave a short nod as she spoke, the cool fingers in his hand bringing a slight smile to his lips. At least she'd given him a chance. "I think you're right, Miss Faith." he whispered, gently leading her along by her hand. He would lead her through the house back to the auction in the front room, a quick glare from the angel man hushing the guards once more. He opened the door for her like a gentleman, waiting for her to step outside before following.<br><br>An elegant horse drawn carriage pulled up to the door in front of them and the driver held the door open. He smiled and nodded his thanks to the man, helping her up and in before sliding in beside her. He settled back on the seat but left her plenty of room to ensure that she was comfortable. He would've liked to pull her close and hug her, to tell her everything would be alright, but he knew that would not help the situation right now.<br><br>Once they'd both found refuge in the carriage the door was closed and a slight jerk was the beginning of the short trip to his home. It was only about ten minutes down the road from the Bridgeman estate. He looked over at her now that they were safe from other eyes and people and gave her a quick glance-over. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you badly anywhere?" He poked around in his coat pocket for a moment before removing a handkerchief and offering it to her, apparently wanting her to remove the dirt from her pretty face. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 21:23:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She didn't know why her giving him his hand made him smile, Mr. Sharpe surely had many reasons to smile, much better then her, and surely had many females wanting to hold his hand. Yet, as they moved through the house she stayed silent, relaxing as they left the oppressive household for the sunshine. Faith paused for a moment as the carriage appeared, to caught up in the feeling of the sun of her face to realize how odd it was to have a gentleman being polite to her. She was of a much lower caste then him and part of her was horrified, but sunshine, it felt so wonderful.<br><br>Faith was almost sorry to get up into the carriage, shrinking away from him after he helped her in. She didn't like to be touched, touching had been a bad thing to have. Part of the girl, deep down, wanted to be hugged and reassured, to be cherished, but after the last few years of her life, and even her childhood she had learned that there were not many gentle touches to be had. And the painful ones were not worth it in exchange. Her vivid green eyes regarded him with a somber wariness, it would be hard to believe that the girl was only eighteen with the way she held herself.<br><br>But she didn't rejected the handkerchief, taking it gravely and neatly cleaning off her heartshaped face, revealing the pale creamy skin beneath the grime. Was she alright? Faith didn't rightly know, and his well formed words made her more aware of her own ill spoken words. The vise like grip of her old Master had left faint discoloring just above and below the metal collar clamped meanly around her slender neck, but it was her breast that felt the most sore. She would not be surprised to find bruises there, but she was not about to admit that to this stranger, even if he had taken her away from the old life and was in fact her new Master as it were. She didn't want to bring up her breasts with any male.<br><br>"I've had worse." she murmured finally, carefully speaking each word to try and match his easy eloquence. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>25-04-2009, 11:07:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew gave a short nod at her words, smiling and feeling a little bad at the way she was careful to pronounce her words. At least she was eager to learn, but it made him want to dull it down a little so she wouldn't feel bad about it. He looked over at her, again wanting to hold her, but managed to suppress the feeling. "If you're sure. If you don't want to talk to me about it, I'm sure that the 'Mother of the House' as I like to call her would be able to help you. She's one of the heads of my staff." he smiled softly. "I don't want you to be in pain, dear. If you're hurting, it can be made better."<br><br>He really didn't want to see her suffering. She seemed such a sweet soul under her exterior. Even her exterior would be beautiful once she'd put on a healthy weight and cleaned herself up nicely. He'd show her to her room as soon as they arrived, giving her a chance to bathe and rest if she so wished. For the time that she recovered she would be waited on hand and foot by other staff, more than willing to help a poor maid out after what she'd been through, many of them having had similar treatment upon arrival to the Sharpe estate.<br><br>The carriage ride was smooth, and before long they'd arrived, his home much smaller than the Bridgeman estate, and much more well kept. The insides were decorated with warm rich colors, instead of the uninviting white tones of the Bridgeman house. Her room was decorated in a deep royal purple mixed with gold hi-lights, soothing for most. His only hope for the time being was that she would begin to recover from the incident soon, he understood what she would go through, having helped so many in similar places.<br><br>Andrew exited the carriage when the door opened, smiling and nodding again to the driver before helping Miss Faith out from her seat. He gently took her hand again, and had it not been covered in soot he would have kissed it like a true gentleman. He led her up the stairs to the house, removing his shoes just inside the door along with his overcoat. Taking her hand once more, he led her up the grand staircase and down a short hallway, opening the first door, and then the one to her room. "Call it home, until you are feeling well again." he murmured, leading her inside and showing her the washroom with a bath waiting for her to use.<br><br>"You'll have staff check on you every so often, please don't be afraid to use them, they are paid well for their services." He turned for a moment as he thought. "I'll be back in just a moment." he murmured, moving into his master suite and returning with a few items of clothing for her. They looked to be just her size, a pair of night clothes, casual clothes, and an elegant dress. "For you, of course." he murmured, hanging the items in the closet before bringing down a towel for her. "Why don't you get yourself cleaned up and relaxed, change into the casual outfit, and I'll take you down for a tour and dinner?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>26-04-2009, 21:20:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Faith couldn't understand why he would care so much if she was hurt, all slaves were hurt, it was common knowledge. They were the lowest caste, so why would he care if she was in pain? The girl shifted on the seat and shrank back from him a touch more, her eyes showing a clear wariness and confusion. She wanted to believe in the person she thought she saw before her, but wasn't sure that she could, men, in her experience, were cruel. Why let her guard down? There was no reason to.<br><br>The estate seemed pretty, warmer, more inviting then the Bridgeman one, and she was shocked when he helped her down. He liked touching her, she didn't like him touching her. Faith wanted to be left alone but she stayed silent and followed the angel man up the stairs and let him take her hand to guide her. She was unclean, beneath him but still he treated her like a lady. It made no sense to her rather bewildered mind. Would he try later to take what Mathis Bridgeman had been after? She hoped not, she wanted to believe in the angel man. <br><br>When she was shown to the lovely room, she blinked in shock and half shrank back against the wall, trying to get her hand out of his. It was much too fine for her, much to pretty, too beautiful. Everything was gorgeous, she had to wonder if she was dreaming, that surely must be the only explanation for the day. When he finally left her alone she drew in a deep breath and folded her arms around herself, pressing her hands into her stomach, trying to settle it, trying to make sure she was real. <br><br>The girl started when he came back with clothing, much too nice for her and she took a deep breath as she handed her a towel. "Um...I'm a servant, a slave. I ca' be stayin' in this room. It mu'h too fine Sir. I'd dir'y them clothes..." She wanted to wear them, part of her really did, and to stay in this room. But that wasn't realistic, not for a slave girl. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>27-04-2009, 00:34:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew shook his head at her protests, leaving the closet open as he slid into her bathroom to run her a hot bath. "Miss Faith, please listen to me. You are as much a human being as anyone, and you deserve some time to recover. You're not a servant anymore, not to me, not to the people who live in or visit my home. You are a woman, and you shall be treated that way." He motioned her into the washroom once the hot water had filled the tub. <br><br>After setting the towel in his hand down beside the tub, he made his way to the door, a hand resting on the handle as he would pull it closed when he left. "You will stay in this room, dear, and you will wear the clothes I brought you. You're not dirty, and I won't have you arguing with me over that. Once you've had a bath, you'll be as clean as anyone else, and I don't want to hear another word of you being too dirty for something, alright?" He smiled softly.<br><br>"Whenever you're ready, just knock on the door on the right and we'll get you fed." With that, he pulled the door closed, leaving her to her privacy to let her bathe and clean herself up in private. If she was there too long he'd give a knock to make sure she was alright, but aside from that he wouldn't disturb her.<br><br>As he closed the second door, Andrew would leave the Master Suite for a moment to head down to the kitchen. He ensured that there was some good warm food about, and asked that when he came down two dishes be set out with whatever the evening's dinner would be. Once he'd done that, he headed back up to his room, closing the door to the suite and acknowledging that her door was still closed before heading behind his own, leaving it open halfway as he moved into the sitting area to pick up some reading material. He sat down in a comfortable wing back chair of royal blue and gold, opening his book and relaxing into the chair to give her some time to relax. The reading would help his patience.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>30-04-2009, 07:09:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Not a servant? She had to blink at that, extremely confused. She had always been a servant, she was born a servant. And he was running her a bath, it felt like the world had been turned topsy turvy. But what he was speaking of, she liked the idea, felt a stirring of hope inside her breast. But it would be a lie, it had to be.<br><br>She shook her head and followed him into the bathroom, looking at the tub with naked longing in her eyes. Servant girls were never allowed to use tubs, it was a quick wash. Oh what a luxury. She trembled slightly as he spoke, staying in that room, being taken care of, wearing nice clothing. It was overwhelming and she wanted to hide away from it all, because if it wasn't a dream, or rather if it was then waking up would be horrid. She rubbed her temples as he left her, figuring that she should at least obey him, he was male and he was of the high class. Besides, in this case, it wouldn't be bad to obey.<br><br>So Faith stripped off her dour servants gown, slipping out of her worn underthings and slid into the hot water of the bath. She let out a low, happy moan of pleasure, deep and shivered in delight as the hot water incased her. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She moved, shifting lighting and let out another faint sound of delight, this was amazing. She soaked for several long moments, lost in the wonder of it before she realized she should actually wash herself clean.<br><br>Faith reached for soaps and bottles, cleaning herself quickly, neatly, picking earthy scents rather then the sharper tangs of florals. Eventually, only after the water cooled enough that it didn't feel divine to languish, she left the tub and dried herself off with fluffy towels, blushing hard at the high quality of everything. Cleaned, she appeared a whole different female. While she was still a touch too thin for her curvy frame she was lovely, pale nearly flawless skin, vivid green eyes and shinning waist length long wavy hair. She twined a lock around her finger, realizing it was still damp and then wrung the whole length out again before emerging from the washroom into the lovely bedroom he had given her. <br><br>Her green eyes went to the closet and she bit her lip before sighing and moving forward to take the clothing he had indicated earlier down, dressing and blushing furiously the whole time. It was made of silk and satin and lace, a garment for a lady, a 'day' gown. She pulled it on after the pristine white undergarments had taken their place, the dress a pale soft cream that went with her pale skin and set off her poison colored eyes and dark hair. Crimson with her blush she finally went to knock on Mr. Sharpe's door.<br><br>"Mr. Sharpe?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>01-05-2009, 22:45:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew heard the knock and the soft voice at the door calling his name. He marked his book and set it down on the table beside his chair before moving to the door. He pulled it open and smiled, giving her a quick look and a nod. "You look wonderful dear. I hope you feel almost as good." he smiled a little, his eyes studying her beautiful face now that it wasn't covered in soot and dirt.<br><br>Andrew smiled, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips, very softly kissing it. "You're beautiful, Faith." he murmured, holding her hand lightly in his as he began to lead her out of the suite and toward the staircase. He was quiet for a moment as they walked before looking over at her. "Please, call me Andrew." he murmured, not expecting such formality, nor enjoying it. There were a few of his staff who refused to address him as Andrew, but usually once they learned that they were a small minority, most would change their mind and call him what he asked. <br><br>He took her down the grand staircase, leading her to the dining room with ease. It wasn't a long walk, only a minute or two. He led her to the head table, pulling out the chair on the right of the head of the table and letting her seat herself before tucking it in under her. He smiled as he headed for the kitchen, getting them both a glass of cold water and checking out what would be for dinner. He nodded to one of the kitchen staff if they asked if he'd have it brought out, and he asked for two plates. <br><br>They wouldn't wait long for a nice dinner of chicken, potatoes and vegetables to be brought out to them. "Hopefully you'll enjoy this..." he murmured, unsure of the foods that she would like, but he was sure after not eating properly, and slave dinners at that, it would be a welcomed luxury. He wondered if she knew how to use utensils, absently, and hoped that wouldn't be too difficult for her as he picked up his fork and knife and begin to cut the chicken. He'd wait to see if she was able before making a fool out of himself and offering to do it for her. He didn't want to embarrass her by asking.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>10-05-2009, 06:42:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When he looked at her and complimented her Faith's pale cheeks burned with a blush and she kept her eyes fixed on the floor, her hands hiding in her skirts as she fought the urge to tremble and break into tears and flee back to the room he had said was hers. She didn't want to attract so much attention, was he dressing her up to take advantage of her later? She hoped not, Faith wanted to believe in the angel man, she really did.<br><br>Her eyes widened to a nearly painful point as she glanced up at him when he kissed her hand, the limb he held in his hold trembling softly. Why was he being such a gentleman? Her bright green eyes flashed with wariness and something else, something beneath that, a longing to believe in how he was acting, what he was saying. It must all be a dream. And she would not call him just Andrew, that would not be respectful enough. Mr. Andrew maybe.<br><br>She followed him, shy and shrinking as they walked through his nice, rich house. She was much to small and meek to live in a place like this, in the bedroom he had given her, Faith wanted to ask him why the world he was doing this, but she couldn't find the courage to do so. Instead she just followed, biting her tongue and wanting to shrink away the whole time. The girl sank into the chair, slightly limp from disbelief. It was good to have a moment alone to herself as he disappeared into the kitchen, or what she assumed was the door that led to the kitchen.<br><br>One hand had lifted, nervously playing with a stray lock of her dark hair, then a plate was brought out, to her and she slowly lifted up a fork, she knew enough of how to eat properly, thanks to the slight tutoring from her mother back before she had passed away. She slowly, painfully used the utensils, afraid of doing wrong and fighting the urge to just eat quickly and with her hands. The poor young girl was trembling as she moved slowly to eat, with an exaggerated delicacy,&nbsp; not wanting to offend the angel man.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>10-05-2009, 22:58:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew could only smile as the girl began to blush from his compliment, the red on her cheeks showing what she might look like with a little more color. He liked it, she could be a very beautiful girl if she was healthy, he was sure of that. And there was something more, something in her eyes.... He knew that she wouldn't be just another. He nearly laughed as he felt her fingers begin to tremble within his hand, a smile lightening his face once more as his thumb gently rubbed over the soft skin of the back of her hand.<br><br>He returned from the kitchen to take his own place, his meal slowly beginning to disappear. But he quickly noticed that she was being ever-so-intentionally delicate and slow with her meal, a bit of a chuckle leaving his lips as he shook his head. He lifted himself up from his seat, moving his chair beside hers&nbsp; and bringing his plate along. He took a quick sip of his wine, gently taking her knife and fork and beginning to cut the chicken into bite sized pieces for her. He smiled once he'd made everything small, setting the knife down and adjusting his position once more. <br><br>The angel man would pick up a bit of the whipped potato and a small piece of chicken on her fork, offering it up to her lips. He was much quicker with the utensils, his movements flowing easily from repeated practice. She would get the hang of it with enough use, but he could see the flash in her eyes that she was just starved and wanted to get the food in her belly today. Andrew didn't mind giving her some help with that. As the first forkful disappeared he would quickly scoop up another, having it ready for her as soon as she wanted it.<br><br>When he'd cleared off her plate, he set the fork down and gently dabbed at her lip with a cloth napkin. He wrapped his arm around her slowly, picking up the glass of wine in front of her and offering it to her lips if she'd like a sip. He murmured softly to her as he did so. "Are you full now, or would you like something more? There should be dessert, but if you'd like more of the food I can get some for you." He set the glass down, squeezing her shoulder gently. He wanted to hold her, but he feared that she would think he would try to do what Bridgeman had.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>13-05-2009, 04:52:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her hands were trembling hard as she made herself eat slowly. Faith licked her lower lip as she tried to cut another piece of meat, wanting to just tear into the food but restraining herself, if just barely. When Mr. Andrew moved though she stilled, watching him slightly warily. But then he was sitting by her, cutting her food into the small pieces that she could easily eat. <br><br>The girl let out a sigh of relief at that, her nervous, tight energy relaxing as she watched him. And then her cheeks stained with a bright blush as he laden her fork with food and brought it to her lips. Faith had never expected this, but she opened her mouth in welcome, taking the bite and chewing quickly, soft sounds of delight and pleasure sounding from her without thought at the rich taste, at the deliciousness of the food. She eagerly took what he gave her, finishing off the food before relaxing back slightly, blushing as he touched her lips with the napkin. <br><br>As the angel man circled his arm around her and tilted the wine glass to touch her lips, she sipped happily, relaxing into his hold. The minute the glass was set aside she licked her lips and smiled softly, leaning into the squeeze he looked at her. <br><br>"Um...dessert, I don't think I can eat too much more, its not bad to eat a lot after not eating very much..." Faith ventured a slight smile and let her head relax a touch, leaning into his arm. If he was going to touch her she would enjoy it as she could, and this touch wasn't bad.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>13-05-2009, 10:54:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew let her finish and nodded, rubbing her shoulders gently as he noticed she was leaning into his touch. Well, that was good, at least it seemed like it. He let his free hand go to her glass again, offering it up to her lips if she'd like more, his other hand still gently rubbing her shoulder. He looked over at the door to the kitchen, shaking his head to himself, <br>no way he could leave her now.<br><br>"Abigail?" he called out gently, the glass now set on the table, though closer to his hand now. He slid his now free hand up her arm, letting them both rub her shoulders as he watched the door to the kitchen. Soon enough a woman appared and smiled. <br><br>"Yes Andrew?" she would ask, watching curiously as he rubbed the new woman's shoulders.<br><br>He smiled back at her. "Would you please bring out a bit of whatever dessert is, for the lady?"<br><br>The woman nodded her head. "Of course." she murmured, slipping back into the kitchen before appearing with a dessert plate, a small slice of a rich chocolate cake resting delicately upon the china. After the man thanked her she nodded. "Not a problem, Andrew, and welcome to the home, Ma'am." The woman shortly after disappeared.<br><br>Andrew watched the woman go before settling himself, albeit reluctantly, back into his chair. He picked up the second fork near her plate and cut off a bit of the cake with the edge, holding up the utensil to her lips again. He smiled a bit as he watched her, his free hand coming to rest on her shoulder once more as he fed her dessert. "You'll make a fine woman, Faith. I promise that you won't be a slave a day longer." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>16-05-2009, 10:38:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The girl blushed at herself, she was being rather forward, but Mr. Andrew was hard to not want to curl into. She pulled back a touch, but he wanted to keep touching her. So she stayed still and acepted the glass as it was put to her lips, wondering if she should be wary or annoyed with the tender treatments and the feeding. But it felt nice to have so much attention focused on her, so gentle. <br><br>Faith stiffened slightly when he rubbed her shoulders, her green eyes showing uneasiness but she stayed still and didn't pull away. Her eyes watched the woman come and go. When a slice of cake appeared she inhaled shakily, smelling the chocolate, so rich and moist and she couldn't help but lick her lips. She had always wanted to taste chocolate. And now it was being served to her. <br><br>It felt like she was in a whole different world. <br><br>The servant girls lips parted eagerly to take that first bite and she gave a soft sound of pure pleasure as she savored it, eyes fluttering shut at the richness of it. "Oh...its as divine as it smells....."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>16-05-2009, 20:28:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew was surprised that she had never tasted chocolate before, but it was understandable. Most of his servants had managed to steal a taste from a leftover plate here or there, they were always more aware of what each thing would taste like, but the occasional one slipped through that. He smiled as she savored her first taste of luxury. "I'm glad you like it." he grinned, lifting another piece of the moist cake to her lips.<br><br>It didn't take long for the dessert to disappear, and after setting her up to finish her wine, he went back to his dinner, finishing it up fairly quickly. Once he'd had his own dessert, he stood up from his chair and offered her a hand. "How about the grand tour?" he smiled, chuckling a bit as he handed her her glass of wine and filled it up, topping his own off and letting it slip into his free hand as he nudged her chair back into place.<br><br>"There's plenty to see, you might enjoy some of the rooms, I think." he smiled, wondering if she could read. She seemed like the type who would rather enjoy some fiction... it was a thought of helping her relax. If she couldn't he could always read to her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>22-05-2009, 07:52:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She blushed and took the next bite of cake, her eyes watching him shyly as he fed her. She was grateful that he would do so since she had such issue with the cutlery, but hopefully that wouldn't last for long. Faith didn't want to make the angel man impatient with her progress in this new life. She sat meek and silent as he finished his meal and desert, her hands clasped tightly and her green eyes trained downward. She felt so out of place in the fine dress and in the fancy room but it was her life now apparently. <br><br>When he offered her his hand she shyly gave him hers, remembering he had disliked her fear of being dirty before. Faith nodded at his question, taking her wine glass in hand as she stood with him. The girl didn't quiet understand why he wanted to share his world with her but she wasn't going to argue with him. <br><br>"As ye wish Mr. Sharpe, I be happ' to see an'thin ye wish." she murmured shyly, cursing her street speech slightly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>26-05-2009, 12:37:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew smiled as Faith took his hand, gently lifting it to his lips and kissing it very tenderly, his lips lingering for a moment before he lifted his head to smile at her again. "Come then, but please dear, do call me Andrew. Mr.Sharpe is much too formal for my liking." he murmured, leading her out from the dining room with the knowledge that someone would be along soon to pick up after them. <br><br>He led her from the dining room down the hall a short ways before opening a door that was quite hidden among the woodwork. A small chapel rested within. "I'm not sure if you're a woman of faith..." he chuckled a bit "...but the chapel is here should you wish to use it." It was a quick glance through the tiny corner of a room before he let the door close, leading her on to the room that sat just across from the main entrance. "The library..." he murmured, leading her in down the couple of steps to see the sitting area, and the balcony that held a nice view of the lake the home was positioned on. <br><br>He brought her to the doors, opening them and slipping out onto the large semi-circle slab that made the foundation for the balcony. He pressed his chest to her back lightly, his hand slipping from hers to settle gently on her waist. He sipped from his glass as he looked out over the view, the sunset just glinting on the pink horizon as evening embraced the world. "It's beautiful, don't you think, dear?" he murmured in her ear gently, curious if she'd ever seen a site like it before.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>29-05-2009, 19:07:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Faith's cheeks were red when he kissed her hand and lingered over it, at least she was completely and utterly clean as his eyes met hers. The girl found her breathing was erratic and she hesitated in the room, unsure about leaving while the table held dishes. She had been a servant far too long to be at easy with ignoring the mess they left. But the angel man pulled her forward and she followed him.<br><br>"As ye wish Mr. Andrew." <br><br>She followed him down the hallway, listening to him as he pointed out things and nodding. She had never been much for chapel, but the mention of a library made her hopeful, she loved listening to the stories int he books. But she couldn't read herself. Faith kept up with him, looking around herself curiously before a gasp of delighted surprise came at the sight of the sunset from the balcony. She could feel him behind her, so close and she nodded "Oh...yes Mr. Andrew, its thee the lov'iest thang I've ever seen."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>05-06-2009, 12:27:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew settled his glass on the flat railing, his hands gently slipping to Faith's waist as he leaned over her shoulder with a smile, looking out at the view of the sunset of the lake. "Have you ever been swimming Faith?" he asked quietly, wondering if she'd have the fun of childhood or if she was one who was quickly introduced to the boundaries of the servant quarters. He sighed softly, content as he watched the beauty of nature. It was something that most people took for granted - the beauty of a sunset, though he knew it was far from it. <br><br><br>He was quiet for a while as he waited for dark to come in, his hands simply resting upon the gently curve of Faith's waist as he watched the scene and let her take it in. Eventually as dusk came and the cool of night began to settle he would pick up his glass, leading her back inside and closing up the door and curtains slowly. He moved to the book shelf, having her follow along, reaching up to bring a book down that he would later share with her. "Do you read, love?" he asked quietly, doubting the answer but wanting to be sure.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>10-06-2009, 18:15:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The girl froze slightly, feeling his hand around her waist and his body flush against hers through her clothing. Why was he so familiar? And why did she like it? She had only felt fear when Mr. Bridgeman had touched her, but when Mr. Andrew did it it was..rather nice. Faith's green eyes went to the lake and she shook her head. "Oh...no Sir, only wading and that no' much."<br><br>Her eyes focused on the lake, the reflection of the brilliant sunset, her breathing was a touch quicker then normal but nothing overly bad, it was just hard, to not let her heart race as his hands rested around her, as he all but held her. Was this normal? For him to do such with a servant, a slave girl? She honestly didn't know. But she didn't think it was a bad thing for the angel man to do.<br><br>When he guided her inside she looked up at the books and shook her head, her eyes going to the floor as she blushed. Another thing she couldn't do, just like speaking properly. "No Mr. Andrew, I cannea."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>11-06-2009, 03:02:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew was becoming rather annoying with being called Sir or Mr. Grumbling quietly to himself he pulled down a book, tucking it into his pocket before he turned to face the girl again. "Please, Faith, just call me Andrew. It is what I ask of you, by continuing to call me Sir and Mister you are not giving me the type of respect that I want. I don't want to be the one higher than you, alright?"<br><br>He gave a gentle stroke to her cheek as he took her hand again, leading her away from the library and a little farther down the hall. "The Billiards room, and one of the washrooms." he pointed out slowly, continuing along past a closed door and into the wide expanse of the living room. "The living room, and the bar." he motioned toward one of the back walls of the room, a section that adjoined with the door they had just passed.<br><br>"And that's basically the main floor." he smiled, standing with her near the door to the living room. "The staff quarters are below us, along with the games room and the spa. And upstairs, well, you've seen it. It's mostly just bedrooms... there's another balcony above the one in the library, but that's about it. Would you like to see the downstairs, or to head up toward bed?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>31-07-2009, 01:37:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Faith's vivid green eyes watched him curiously, noticing him touch a book. She wanted to know how to read, she was afraid that her negative were beginning to wear upon Mr. Sharpe, yet his words were to the opposite. Her eyes widened and then dropped, downcast as she nodded. Could he not understand that every male had always been Sir or Mister to her? Even her father, 'Yes Sir' was all she could really remember saying to him, or to her brother. Things were so different for their different castes. But she didn't want to annoy him, so she decided to simply speak as little as possible rather then forgo to the respect of the titles. <br><br>Her eyes moved upward for a moment as his hand caressed her cheek and she found her breath catching at the look in his eyes. No, Mr. Sharpe was nothing like what she had known before. Her hand went easily into his and she followed him down the hallway, listening but not speaking. His home was so large, even in comparison to the Bridgefords it wasn't menial by any stretch of the mind. <br><br>"Si...um..Andrew...I...isnea me room downstairs? W'th the servants?" She asked, stumbling over her words slightly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: What Can't be Bought</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Autumn Sativus</strong> on <strong>06-08-2009, 07:00:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Andrew smiled and shook his head gently. "Don't you remember, I showed you your room earlier on? You'll be staying with me for a while, dear." he nodded gently, not wanting her to doubt her place or question it. "I want to be close to you in case there are any troubles. You'll be more comfortable than you've ever been in your life... don't deny yourself the privilege I offer, alright?" he smiled again gently, his hand softly touching the small of her back.<br><br>"I already told you Faith, things with be different here. You are not a slave anymore." He took her hand gently, leading her toward the grand stair case. "Surely these must be things you dreamed of as a child. To be treated as a Princess?" he smiled to her. "Let this be the time for those dreams to come true, Faith. Just enjoy your time being treated like the Princess that you are." His arm tucked gently around her waist as he led her upstairs again, bringing her to her room and going to the dresser. He lifted a set of silken pajamas that looked to be just her size, perhaps a bit loose but that was a comfort in pajamas. After laying the material out on the bed, he pulled back the blanket and motioned to the bed clothes and the bed.<br><br>"You get yourself comfortable, Faith, and when you are call for me. I want to read to you." he murmured, knowing it would be a small pleasure that she would greatly enjoy. The tales of books were always something mesmerizing to those who had not had them.
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>