(Untitled)

[i_martha_adams]

Martha is, again, in to check for messages.

There are, again, none.

However any night she doesn't have to cook for herself in a house that was supposed to hold two or more people is a good night. She orders a dinner, finds a table, and commences watching the stars die.

There are two plates, if anyone is interested in keeping her company.

Comments

[simple_tool]

Tool had been allowed to leave the Australian abode for a time. Which was, perhaps, a good thing. It seemed she unnerved the people there, no matter their good intentions...and there was a babe on the way now...not a good thing to have a soulless around.

So she was delivering a note, held carefully in her hands. She certainly didn't note the chill in the air as she walked, nor how upon occassion people stepped away from her, she simply did as bid. "For Mistress Martha" she spoke quietly to Bar, raising gracefully onto her toes to see the polished surface.

Stubbornly though, Bar did not accept the note, instead offering a seating chart with table marked. Tool curtsied to the Bar and walked off, coming to a silent stop at a nearby table "Mistress Martha?"

[i_martha_adams]

"My name is Martha."

She blinks, and turns to look at the girl,

"Mrs. Martha Adams. Can I help you?"

This has to be Tool. She's so...empty. At least I hope this is Tool, because otherwise there are two terribly broken little girls around. Which may be why I found this place, but what a terrible reason for a blessed event.

[simple_tool]

Tool curtsied once more, not at all graceless in her OshKosh overalls and patterned blouse. Perhaps it was the hair, sweeping to the floor at the movement. "Master Arithon bid I delver a note"

Said note was offered smoothly without her even looking up.

[i_martha_adams]

She takes the note, but doesn't open it yet,

"And who are you? I like to know the names of those I speak to."

Mild, non-accusatory, and expectant. She's certain that she knows the answer, hopeful that it is the right answer, and bleeding for the child.

[simple_tool]

"I am Tool, if it pleases" she noted calmly, not at all disturbed by her naming, though she had been gifted with another.

She had not been bid to return immediately, so she sank to the floor beside Martha, much as any hound would sit by a Master, expecting to be petted, or to just be close. She would await a response perhaps.

[i_martha_adams]

"I will not call you that."

Quietly, but firmly,

"Give me a name to call you, not a description."

And she finally reads the note;

Lady Adams,
My kath asan assures me that you are the best to take care of our wounded flower. I send her to you, thus, that you may see the extent of damage before she is whole again; and know what would be in store for you did you choose to take her on.

When you have made your choice, please send her back with it that we may continue our attempts at reuniting soul and body.
~Arithon s'Ffalenn

"It seems that we are to talk for a while. Please join me for dinner."

[simple_tool]

Tool rose as silently as she had seated herself, slipping into the empty chair, but not touching either plate or cup yet. "Tool is my only name. Suited for my existance." she offered, eyes fixed firmly on her plate.

"Master Wellard has also refused to call me such as is proper, and insists upon a Mistress name. I believe it is Elizabeth. Or Lizzie as the Master prefers"

[i_martha_adams]

"Tool is a description."

She will not bend on that, and nods sharply,

"Elizabeth it is. How old are you, Elizabeth?"

She may not be whole, but I will not have her with any memories of me treating her any other way. I will not.

[simple_tool]

"All names are descriptions, Mistress" she noted softly.

Then she tilted her head to the side, the perfect, doll like picture of curiousity without any feeling behind it. "Physically Mistress? Or how long I have existed?"

[i_martha_adams]

"Some are acceptable names, some are not. I like Elizabeth, it is a name that is also a blessing. Tool is derogatory. I would prefer you not refer to yourself as such around me."

Quiet, calm, and firm. Not an order, but a statement of preference. She raised a boy to adulthood, her tone is motherly,

"First, how old do you consider yourself? And then the others."

[simple_tool]

"As Mistress bids" she nodded, still not touching the meal.

"I do not consider myself. Twelve. A little over nine centuries. I apoligize for the lack of precision in time....I do not recall much of my early arrival at Master Gaunts."

[i_martha_adams]

She won't order the girl to eat, because she is not her mother.Yet.So she nods, and thinks for a while,

"Have you ever lived in the country? Away from a city, I mean."

[simple_tool]

She simply does not eat because Martha herself is not eating. She is well trained enough only to eat as the Master of Mistress does.

"I do not know. I do not recall aught before Master Gaunt's Manse."

[i_martha_adams]

"Do you want to?"

She asks it almost off-hand, beginning on her supper (roast chicken, mashed potatos, fresh vegetables).

[simple_tool]

"If it is Mistress's desire"

It's uncanny, Tool's echoing of Martha. Each portion the same as the womans, each forkful and knife cut...

[i_martha_adams]

Mrs. Martha Adams, Widow, is ignoring that,

"That isn't the question I asked you, Elizabeth. Mr. s..."

She trails off, then gives it another try,

"Sfallan wants you to have a good home. I want you to be happy. Please think about it."