The quiet rustle of fabric along the luxurious carpeting, is all but drowned by the Madame’s booming tones. In all her years River has rarely heard Kovarian shriek the way she’s doing now. It’s difficult to suppress a smirk. “I will deal with it.” She assures the woman calmly, dismissing her employer with an airy gesture that leaves the other positively seething. River pauses at the door, listening for any sign of life from beyond it. She at least is here by choice. Clearing her throat, the blonde knocks once.                 “Chandra?”

She knows the Madame had handpicked her client. And Chandra knows why. Later she may chide herself for her swelled pride. But she was far too used to being her own mistress, and she and Madame Kovarian had  not it it off at all. Phantom hands still ghosted across her frame. Insults still rang in her ears. They were supposed to be protected  from overly rough patrons, but apparently she was the exception to that rule.

So she'd blocked the door and seated herself to nurse her bruises and wounded pride. 

But then she hears River, and she lets out a breath.

"--What do you want?"

Strange Shores //Georgian AU// Idlegossipandarchaeology

River watched the exchange in relative silence. While she hadn’t a clue what each strange syllable meant, she could grasp a general understanding from the expression on the younger girl’s face.

Fear did not distinguish between race or colour. She had seen that same look upon the younger girls many a time. All lined up with their backs to the wall, pretty lace dresses swishing against the carpet. Fear of the unknown. No doubt their imaginations were running wild too heightening their apprehension all the more.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, River could sympathise. But this was not the underbelly of London, this was the high of the low as some might put it. These girls should count themselves lucky they were not trawling the back alleyways.

"Ch-Chan" Try as she might the whore couldn’t pronounce the name, forfeiting with an apologetic grimace. "Shall I call you Chandra?" For what was a name to women who hid everything but their bodies?

{Chandra.

Sanskrit: Illustrious.

Tamil: Shining

Hindi: beauty of the Moon. }

If she had an inkling, the whore might have grinned at that. As it transpired, she had none and deftly turned her attentions to the men. Bartering she could very well do, after many years of selling herself. The East India Trading Company would have to think twice if they thought for a moment that they could swindle money from the notorious House of Venus.

A little smile spread across Chandramukhi's face at the shortening of her name. The smile itself felt strange, natural as it was, simply for the fact that it was her natural one -and not some fabrication. She had not smiled like this in a very long time. It was not out of amusement, rather - pleasure. 

A short nod. "Yes." 

Her eyes darted to the carriage behind her and vaguely wondered how the other whore thought she would get the group of them back to the brothel. And even further, Chandramukhi wondered if the dealings of the English brothel would be anything like the dealings of her own. She could not imagine it being much different, sex was sex - but the place, the language, the clothes - even the weather - was already so foreign to her that she wondered how on earth there could be any similarity between her old life and the new.

She supposed the only similarity she could, as of now, foresee, was that she would still be looking at the same sun, moon, and stars. 

Though, as her eyes flicked to the overcast, grey sky, she wondered in creeping despair if she would have even that to comfort her. 

Vanja was still holding fast to her arm, and gently, Chandramukhi pried herself from her grasp only to take her hand and give it a firm squeeze in her own. The girl's skin was ice cold - no doubt from the weather, and that was with the offered shawl. She internally winced at how cold the others had to be. Chandramukhi herself was already masking her own shivers best she could in an effort to appear as infinite and immovable as the stars. 

She could only watch as the other woman turned to their captors - watch as they joked, cajoled, and insulted them in turns, setting the rate and saying that she could not, honestly, be asking very much for a few bitches from India. 

Chandramukhi was already biting her tongue so hard she drew blood, and she was quite glad for the fact that very few of the others understood a scrap of what was being said. 

Strange Shores //Georgian AU// Idlegossipandarchaeology

For a moment, River feared that the woman would give no reply. Perhaps they would have no means of communication, save for a few mimed actions.

Life in Convent Garden afforded no chance to learn a language of the East. In fact, she failed to grasp the concept of the Indian subcontinent having more then a single language. The words, Tamil, Telegu, Gujarati, Hindi or Urdu, had she have heard of such things, would have sounded like pretty, but meaningless terms. Thankfully she was spared this overwhelming lesson as the woman replied in English.

River could not help but raise an eyebrow as the stranger passed her shawl away to one of the girls. The act was uncommon in this part of London. People were far more likely to help themselves before the next person. The whore sensed that her foreign colleague were something else entirely. For a moment she were stunned into silence, an intense gaze directed at the other woman as if seeking out some hidden meaning from the gesture. Finding none she was forced to reply, “Then I ask that you relay my words to the others,” She paused briefly before going on, “I am to escort you back to your new home, on the other side of London.” Another pause followed her words as she glanced back at he coach wistfully. Unfortunately it would not carry the entire group.

"First things first, I have to negotiate your price with the tradesmen" The words were spoken very deliberately. It were vital, she felt, that these girls knew just what sort of a life to expect. A cold dose of reality, while harsh, was recommended.

With the formalities now out of the way River offered her hand to the woman, “River Song, pleasure to meet you” A backwards sort of introduction perhaps,but these were unusual times.

Chandramukhi could sense the other's surprise as she had given the shawl to the younger woman. She was, to be quite honest, unfazed by it at this point. Most reacted to her nature in similar ways. She did such things without thinking. She was odd, she supposed, and she knew others thought her so. Not that she minded. If one spent their life worrying about what others thought, life would be far more stressful and harried than needed. She met the gaze, struck by how very blue the other's eyes were. It wasn't a flat blue, more a blue rimmed with green and flecked with gold. Beautiful and dynamic. This woman definitely had her own charm. 

Her chin lifted, a little, as the blonde spoke again with the intent to make their situation very clear. Chandramukhi, of course, had known since they had left the shores of India what she should expect. She had been in the business of prostitution for many years, and had worked from the bottom up. She knew what the depths of Indian brothels were like and hardly thought that English brothels could be any better. Sex, like people, was Universal. So the business of it must be. And a courtesan was in the business of both sex and humanity. 

Her eyes dropped and then closed for a moment as she considered how to best translate- whether to do it gently, or to simply be as blunt as possible. She knew some of the other girls had no idea why they were here. They had no clue of what was to come, what was to happen to them. Her heart dropped into her chest at finally having to be the one to explain it to them. 

Chandramukhi looked up, catching Vanja's eyes. The young woman had the shawl wrapped around her shoulders and she looked at her with such expectant trust it hurt. 

She took a breath, turning back to the blonde, giving her a nod. "Chandramukhi." Half a moment, then she took the other woman's hand and shook it. 

Now, the time to face the prospects- and so she turned back to her group and wrapped her arms around herself, quietly explaining what was to happen - what she had known for months, what they were only just now to discover. 

Her explanation was met with tears, with exclamations and stony silence in turns. A hand brushed her own and she met Vanja's eyes yet again. The teenager was ashen-faced, eyes wide and wet and hurt.

          "--I'm never going home, am I?" 

Her breath hitched and she pursed her lips.

           "--no. You're not." 

Belle Official Trailer #1 (2013) - Tom Felton, Matthew Goode Drama HD 

aka up coming movie that takes place and is centered around an interracial couple in the 1800s 

  She’d heard there was a newcomer. In the back of her mind, Chandramukhi had wondered of her age, her experience - wondered about how frightened she might be. 

So, so she’d gone to see, and here she was, peering around the side of the door.

"Hello." 

Meg relaxed slightly giving a smile as she saw another woman. “You can come in if you like.”

She smiled, stepping into the room, fingertips lingering on the doorframe. 

"Chandramukhi," she introduced, giving the other woman a nod.

Meg looked up as she heard footsteps she hadn’t been working here for long and she wasn’t aware of who was who. “Hello? Is someone there?”

She'd heard there was a newcomer. In the back of her mind, Chandramukhi had wondered of her age, her experience - wondered about how frightened she might be. 

So, so she'd gone to see, and here she was, peering around the side of the door.

"Hello." 

  [Melody looks at the elder’s hand, then to her face to gauge whether she’s trustworthy — though Melody isn’t that good att trusting fold anyway, so there’s no real point in doing so.]

[But the stranger’s words are convincing enough and she reaches out, frail hand curling around Chandramukhi’s.]

Where you going?

[She smiles when Melody takes her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and rising back to her feet.]

What kind of food do you like to eat? 

[She's planning on getting her something. Bread is hardly the most nutritious item.] 

7 Word Poem (via incoloure)

/{ Open }\

"Was he really standing there bare naked?"

"Yes." 

/{ Open }\

"Sadly, I don't think he is." 

[Now Chandramukhi’s more worried than curious. She sinks to crouch.] 

       I’m not going to hurt you. 

           [She reaches for one of the pieces of bread and holds it out to the child. She’s worried, yes, and it’s very obvious that the food’s stolen, but in her mind- if one takes something, fair and square, it’s theirs.] 

[Hesitantly, she reaches out to take the bread, gathering the rest and holding it to her chest. She’s starving. She’s unwell.]

  No tell ba…uh…bread man

I won't.

[She wants to help, desperately, but a brothel isn't a place for a child, so she can hardly bring her home.] 

Come, let's leave, hm? Don't want him to find us. 

[She offers her hand, hoping the little girl will take it.] 

[She’s more than surprised when a small body runs into her.]

—And where are you off to, little one? 

[And she’s stumbling backwards fearfully, eyes wide as her backside hits the floor and several pieces of bread fall to the ground.]

No.  Please—

[Now Chandramukhi's more worried than curious. She sinks to crouch.] 

       I'm not going to hurt you. 

           [She reaches for one of the pieces of bread and holds it out to the child. She's worried, yes, and it's very obvious that the food's stolen, but in her mind- if one takes something, fair and square, it's theirs.] 

[Handful of bread stolen? Check.]

[And now she’s running, and running fast.]

[She's more than surprised when a small body runs into her.]

"--And where are you off to, little one?"