raychel Chores

Post chores here.

November 19th

*A bounce in her step, raychel surveyed the room. Dishes from the nights serves lay in strewn disarray around that of the cushions and seating places of the Free. Pursing her lips, she shakes her head with a gentle sigh, and walks across the cool floor toward them. Her slim white silk straining about it’s seam, she bends to pick up a silver goblet of half drank water, another gold, empty, and balances them in one arm. Walking along the cushions, ever so often, she stoops to balance another goblet in her arms before she has them all. Nodding, she tosses her messy braid gently behind her, the goblets gently shaking in her arms at the movement. Humming softly, she makes her way carefully across the floor to the kitchen, where she deposits the goblets into the sink. Stretching her arms a bit, she turns on her heel back towards the main room to pick up each pillow and shake the dust from them, her brow furrowed gently in concentration. Nodding, she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Lip twixt her teeth, she fills the sink with cool water, adding a bit of soap, and begins to scrub each goblet. Hands swishing in and out of cups, her mind wandering, she loses herself in the time, being sure each and every dish is cleaned thoroughly. Humming softly, she rinses the goblets, surveying them with the cool gaze of her eyes, seeking to find if any of the dishes had been damaged during the evening. Placing them on the counter to dry, she nods to herself, pleased that she'd been able to bring her pleasure at serving to a new home. Blinking rapidly for a moment, she sighs and turns from the counter. Stepping across to the side of the counter, she bends her frame to the floor, reaching fingers to a stool that will assist her, and lifts it against her breasts. Carrying it gently to the floor where she'd stood moments before, she sets it down, and lifts her delicate feet to raise herself atop it. Then, she picks each goblet up in her hand to place it, in the cabinet above, placing them in a gentle order.

Closing the cabinet door, she lowers herself to her feet again, the silk dancing along her legs as she swiftly moves. Turning from the counter, she replaces the stool in it's home, before returning to the counter for the final time. Pleased, she grabs a rep cloth to wipe the water from the counter, and drapes it when finished on the rack for it to dry. Emptying the water from the sink, she nods to herself, and exits the kitchen to await the arrival of others, or assist her sisters in their chores as well.*

December 4th

Chore

Cleaning the Fire Pit

*Raychel stepped along the cool surface of the home stone, the hook of a broom pan dangling from her fingers as she walked. A single filthy rep cloth draped over the soft inner curve of her elbow, and two logs sat atop it balanced with grace, as she padded gently along, the bells about her ankles tinkling lightly. Her light blue gaze met that of the fire pit, as the early morning sun rose behind it, tinting the sky a light orange as it woke.

Reaching the pit, she squats down beside it, placing the logs next to her. Tapping a gentle hand to the remaining charred log, she notes it is fully cooled. Smiling at this, she rises from the pit for a brief moment. Looking about, she sees her sisters moving around her in their hustle to complete their own chores. Hiking up her camisk a bit, so she does not soil it in the ashes, she lays the cloth beside her on the ground, taking the broom pan tight into her fist. Lowering herself to her knees, her camisk successfully out of the way, she begins to scoop out old ashes carefully, and placing them into the cloth so they will not soil the ground. The process takes some time, for it had been burning late into the night. Really, she thought, it was a miracle it was cool at all, and she lifts the dead and burned log, to place it on top of the ashes and cloth.

All the ashes of dead wood removed, she scoots to the cloth, delicately, and being sure not to spill any, she grabs each individual corner of the cloth, to wrap it about the log, the ashes tucked safely inside. Grabbing the two pieces of wood she had brought with her, she lay's them in the circle, one laying in cross over the other, and rises from her kneel, brushing at the soft, now grey, flesh of her knees. Tongue in her cheek, she makes a face at her dirty knees, shaking her head, but smiles then at the thought that the fire would be kept burning for the Frees comfort.

Nodding, she bends at the waist to carefully pick up the cloth, it's contents unable to spill with her wrapping of it, and walks away from the pit, to dispose of the waste properly.*

Well done girl. Impressive. Looking forward to more from you.

*Looking about, she notes the dessert is near empty. With a smile, the girl walks to the cooking tent. Sure that her Ubara had been kidding about the butter, she thinks to herself briefly that oil would not hurt. She didn't want to burn, and with that thought in mind she moves to the shelf of oils and herbs. Wetting her lips gently, she searches the shelf quietly, tapping her chin as her eyes read the words. Finding a good one, she lifts the small vial into the soft curve of her hand. Nodding, she pulls her curls into one hand, tying them back with a long string, forming a bow. The girl winces softly as she pinches a few of the hairs, but turns her head a bit so that they loosen slightly. Lifting the vial again, she walks back out into the sand and the heat. Her bare feet used to the feel of the sand now, she wiggles her toes as she walks, liking the feel of it, and makes her way around and behind the large tent. A large cloth-like blanket already laid out, she smiles and walks to it. Not wanted to get any sand on it, she does not yet set her feet on it, but first sets the vial on it, the cork still firmly in place. Shielding her eyes, she glances up to the blazing sun, and nodding still, raises her hand to the silk just above her breasts. Pulling it down a bit, she lowers it down her body.

Removing the silk, she stands in the sand, naked as the day she was born, and places it atop the blanket gently. Lifting the vial once more, she grabs the cork between two strong fingers. Pulling gently, she pours a very small amount of oil into her hand. Raising it to her body, she sweeps it over her skin, sliding warm hands full of oil over her body. It's slick, she thinks briefly, and she moves her hands over her breasts and down the dip in her belly. Lowering then, she slathers oil liberally over the length of her legs, sure to cover ever inch of skin. Smiling, she lifts the oil to her face, and very very carefully places a few dots of it on her skin. Her body now covered, and protected, she replaces the cork in the vial and sets it down.

Lowering her frame to the blanket, she lays under the warm sun, happy that she'd drank quite a bit of water before the chore, so she posed no risk to her hydration. Laying back, and flat, she closes her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun already on her skin. She'd no longer look like pale milk, but she didn't wish to look like a leather sack either, and with this in mind, she begins to mentally count out time. Not wanting to fall asleep, she counts, parting her lips gently with each count, though no sound was released. After about 15 ehn, she raises her body again, lifting the vial. Pulling the cork once more, she rubs the oil now onto her back, and the firm round flesh of her ass, curving her body so all flesh receives the protection. Pleased, she moves and lays on the taught flesh of her belly, raising her back to the heat of the sun. She begins counting again, her hair curved over the slim round of her shoulder so her back may, too, be tanned.

Smiling as the time comes to an end, she rises from the blanket, lifting her silks into her hand, allowing them to dangle lightly between her fingers. Lifting the vial, she begins to return back to the hut, to replace it. The sand bends under the weight of her feet, as she, bare with head held high, steps along the camp, her breasts lightly bouncing with the motion. Finally reaching the hut, she replaces the oil on the shelf, before turning on her heel, bells tinkling. Reaching up, she pulls the string from her orange locks, allowing the curls to spring free once more, and dance about her face. Silk still in hand, she begins to walk to the stream, to wash the oil from her body.*

Your chores are as amazing as you mine

Thank you kindly, my Ubara. ^.^

wonderfully done sister

your chores are very pleasing girl keep it up

Thank you, First Girl.

Thank you kindly, Mistress.

WOW YOUR DOING SO AWSOME GIRL - HAD TO READ ALL OF THEM - AND VERY WELL DONE

*Brushing her hair behind her head, Raychel ties it off into a tail, eyes shot from the days work. Much was still to be done before the day could begin for others, however, and this in mind, she set to work. Lifting the nearby basket to the opening of the Vulo cage, she pushes it aside, attempting not to get her hair tangled in the sharp netting. Entering, she stoops low, the Vulo still sleeping as the sun hand not yet begun to rise. Her sister bustled about the camp, awake as well with the morning chores, and she shivered at the chill the night air always brought in the dessert.

Stepping down the line of Vulo, she stops at the end, where the hut was closed on all sides. Sure to be gentle, she rubs her hand on her silk so that it would be warm, and not wake the vulo sending it into a frenzy. Pressing her hand to the soft feathery breast of the animal, she sneaks her hand beneath it, the soft flesh of her palm circling around a small egg. Using her fingers beneath the animals bottom, she grabs another in the same hand, for the eggs were small, and pulls them gentle still from beneath the feathers. Placing them in the basket, she continues down the row.

Fighting the urge to hum during her work, for she didn't wish to wake the rows, she continues to collect the eggs, leaving a few here and there for the new spring stock that would be coming soon. Making her way to the last bird, she turns her gaze, hearing movement. The animals were beginning to wake. Cursing herself, and knowing she'd have to get up earlier the next time she completed this chore, she exits the hut, ducking her head beneath the opening. Basket sitting on her arm, she moves across the dessert, sand cool on her feet for the sun was just now beginning to rise. There was still so much that needed doing before the day began, she thought, and with this in mind. she begins to move faster along the Oasis, to complete her morning duties.*

*Sighing, Raychel exits the enclosure swiftly moving toward the gardens. In order for the food to be made, she knew, they would be in need of all the fruits and vegetables the garden had to offer. Her sisters still mulling about with their own tasks, she takes up the chores she most enjoyed, dealing and working with the plants. Stepping into the area, she lifts her leg, brushing the flesh over the curve of the fence. Her face flushes at the movement, but she makes no sound as she continues toward the leaves.

Each aisle of growth was laid out and properly labeled. Thanking her past Mistress for allowing her to learn to read, she thinks, tapping a single long finger across her chin in thought. The radish would need to wait, not yet enough growing there. But the carrots seemed to be done, she noted. The kort and melons as well. The katch was a bit on the greener side, telling her it hadn't been drawn away from the gardens for new growth in quite some time. The turnips, like the radish, too needed more time, but the beans were well ready for picking. Turning her gaze to the bush at the end of the garden, she frowns at the abundance of rep on the leaves. That too would need to be taken care of.

Sighing gently, she steps to the end of the rows, lifting the basket for gathering gently into both of her hands. Moving along the area, she lowers to her knees before the food. Reaching a hand forward, she wraps her fingers around the leaves of the first carrot, easing it out a bit slowly, before viciously yanking it from the ground. A good 7 inches in girth, she smiles as her thoughts travel elsewhere. Shaking her head at her errant mind, she places the carrot gently in the basket and reaches for another. Pulling each carrot in the same manner, she gathers many in various size and shape, a smirk tickling her lips at the thoughts running through her skull. There was a reason they were referred to in vulgar manner on occasion, she thought.

Edging her way down the line further, she begins to wrap long fingers around strong melons. Cursing her brain, for she couldn't seem to get it under control, she lifts the first large melon into her hands, placing it gently in the basket, next to the carrots so they weren't harmed. Giggling further still, she lifts a second, then a third, before leaving the rest, smaller in size, in their place. Those would need more time, she gathered.

Still moving along, she reaches the kort. Without control, she begins to laugh aloud now, as she lifts an oddly shaped, 7.5 in kort into her hands. It curve at the top, making the imagery far too much to bare. Holding her side with one hand now, she rolls with laughter, cursing herself silly and foolish. At least, she thought gently, she was enjoying her chore. Placing it, and several other and equally oddly shaped korts into the basket, she moves further along to the katch.

Shaking her head once more, she says nothing, tears still light on her face from her laughter. Lifting each rounded bunch of katch, she places it a top the melons, each planted food balancing out nicely in the basket. Leaning over slightly, she begins to pick the beans, their small but long shape doing nothing to quell her errant and silly thoughts as they run rampant and out of her control. Giggling further, she lifts several beans into her hands, placing them too in the basket. Her sisters were staring at her now, as they passed. Guards were looking at her funny as well, for it seemed they knew not what was so funny about picking vegetables.

Finally, the girl rises up, moving to the rep bush. Lifting the small pods into her hands, she begins to dump them into the basket. It would be good, she thought idly, to have more cloth made. With the cloths used for sand wiping, drying of hands, of dishes, and various other uses, it would be pleasant for their growing city to have more. Finally, she dumps the last bit of rep into the basket. Scooping a hand firmly under each handle, she lifts it, frowning at the weight, and begins to carry it toward the food hut.*

*Walking into the tent, Raychel ticks her tongue in her mouth. It would not do, she thought to herself, to have the Free sitting in sand covered chairs. Sometime in the evening, the opening to the tent had blown with the wind, tossing sand about the throne room. It looked awful, she thought, and if it was not presentable in the mere Ahn that all would be awake, all girls would most certainly take the heat for it. Not wanting this, and wanting the Free to be pleased, Raychel exits the tent swiftly, moving to the kitchen hut. Lifting a bucket from near the door she smiles as it was still full of cleaning water, only slightly soiled. Pleased, as one did not waste water in the desert, she grabs two cloths and returns, the walk not really fun with a large bucket of water, back to the tent. Placing the bucket beside the first throne, she begins to wipe the sand away, the dry cloth in hand.

When the sand is removed, she drapes the dry cloth across her shoulder, and places the other cloth into the bucket. Lifting it atop to the throne, she begins to scrub at the caked sand that desecrated the chair of the Free. Irritated, she scrubs at it with strong fingers, pressing into each granule with a vengeance. Finally, the sand begins to lift away, and she smiles. The chair shone like it should, and she lifted the bucket to move to the second.

It was a long strenuous process and time was not in her favor. Half the Ahn already passing by, she groans as she makes her way halfway through the circle, the dirty water shown from the fact that these thrones were simply not washed enough. Placing the cloth back in the bucket, she lifts it into her hands, turning it in a twist to release the excess water from it. Lifting it to the chair of the throne once more, she brushes away the last of the sand. Tossing the cloth back into the bucket, she places her hands at the small of her back, stretching her body, arching her frame, pointing the roundness of her chest toward the ceiling in her stretch. Pleased with herself, she glances back to see all the now shining and glistening thrones, fit for the Free to sit in.

Turning away from the room, she lifts the bucket into both hands, to begin the walk back to the hut, for she needed to replace what she'd taken, and make sure the cloths were washed.*

*Entering the kitchen gently, she glances about swiftly to see what else could be done. Smiling, she notes that in the hustle and bustle to complete daily chores, the dishes had been forgotten. Not forgotten washed, no this was a simple and thorough task. Nay, they had not been put to rest in their proper homes. Tsking once more, she moves to the counter, eyeing the several goblets, bowls, and trays sitting on the counter, needing homes.

Taking the goblets first, she lifts two, resting them between her arm and her breasts. Stepping up, she takes a third into the curve of her Free hand, and a fourth in her pinkie. Sidestepping, like some sort of wobbly animal, she smirks as she makes it to the counter. Lifting the hand not pressed against her chest, she places the two goblets on the shelf above, reaching, the openings on the sides of her legs brushing against her soft flesh, tickling her slightly. Though she craved to itch, she dare not, and drop the precious drinking cups.

Lifting the others, her second hand now free, she replaces them as well, lowering her body back to her flat feet instead of her toes. Moving back to the sitting dishes, she begins to stack the bowls together. 3...4...5...6...7...She dare not go higher, and thanked the Priest Kings that there had not been more. Doing another awkward dance, she steps to the counter again, very gently, very carefully, lowering her frame to bent knee. The bowls wobbled in her hands as she sets her frame on the floor. Dangling the bowls in one hand, she fills skilled, as she takes the other hand to replace the bowls one by one. Oh, how the wind danced against her Chalwar, making the tanned skin of her flesh itch.

Brushing the feeling aside, she replaces the last and final bowl. Rising for the last of it, she makes her way back to where the trays rested. The easiest of these, she stacks them one over the other, they were light in their weight, and she moves across the room to bend at the table. Resting her knees against the floor, she replaces the trays, stacked on their sides, organized, one by one. Again, the wind passes through the opening, torturing her flesh, pricking at her skin. Finally, she lays the last try to it's place.

Rising up, the girl glances behind her to see if all the dishes were in their proper place. Noting they were, she looks towards the opening of the hut. Seeing no one, a small smile would build on her lips, and without warning, she would bend down and begin to scratch at her legs where the open chalwar consistently brushed against her. This would take some getting used to, and she would, but until then?

"Aaaaaahhhh...."

I absolutely love your details outstanding

sister rachel, First Girl applauds you.. seeing you wanted this bad enough to get all that was required, and in a very very timely manner. sorry girl doesnt have a gold star.. but here's the next bext thing.. *smiles*

girl wanted this badly. She wanted this more than she ever wanted anything before. As far as role play. She's happy to have you all for a family. And happy to have you all period. Girl wants to be a member of the city. This is the first time she's felt home in a long time in the role play.

girl cannot explain how much she's wanted this. Sh's happy to have all of you.

also yay star!!

Your desire shows girl. We are indeed happy to have you here with us as well. This is your home and you continue to impress and grow. Well done!.

woop woop go raychel you got this

your doing very well ray - very pleasing to read

wonderful job sister now lets keep the momentum going as far as sister can tell your cuaght up through the 12 /23 week and now owe for the week 12/30 and 1/7 have fun as girl knows they will be impressive and a good read.... miss you

good job ray.

*Raychel entered the chamber of her Ubara, eyes bright, surveying the room. It was clean, as usual, for her Ubara wasn't one to make a mess, but she did have a few things here and there that needed doing. With this thought in mind, she moves across the room, her bells tinkling lightly in the silent of the chamber, and she steps forward to the bed. Tapping her finger against her chin, she then moves her hair across to the side of her neck.

Reaching forward, her fingers clench together in the top fur, and she lifts it into her arms. Taking it from the soft bed, she smiles, turning her body to walk back to the door. Placing the fur into a basket, she turns back, chalwar brushing delicately against the creme of her thighs, and steps to the closet. Raising her hands, she grabs another large fur, brown in color, warm in her fingers, and throws it over her shoulder.

Walking from the closet, she pushes the door closed behind her and walks back to the bed. Smiling, she spreads the fur across the bed, tossing it into the air, and watching it fall delicately on the bed. With skilled fingers, she pulls it straight across the surface, moving to the head of the bed to organize the pillows as they needed to be. Nodding her head, she turns from that task to do what else needed doing.*

very nice sister Smiles