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happytoiletpaper
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Commented on: Thu Jun 24, 2010 @ 07:31pm


	Gypsy Information Family-- Mother [late]: Nadya Czigany Pepé Father [late]: Simion Theron Pepé Daughter: Talia Adiara Pepé Island names -- Bogbara, meaning foreign (bara) god (bog). Dalbara, meaning foreign (bara) far away (dal). Dalmir, meaning far away (dal) peace (mir). Damir, meaning to give (dati) peace (mir). Domir, meaning home (dom) peace (mir). Bogora, meaning god (bog) mountain (gora). Gypsy Proverbs -- "Flies go to lean horses." "The buyer needs a hundred eyes, the horse thief not one." "Gypsy gold does not clink and glitter; it gleams in the sun and neighs in the dark." THIS IS KINDASORTA LIKE POCAHONTAS.

Commented on: Sun Jun 27, 2010 @ 10:42pm


	Food -- Milks: Cow Goat Buttermilk. Jams: Raspberry Blackberry Gooseberry Strawberry Elderberry Eggs: Duck Chicken Goose Honey: Heather Honey Wildberry Honey Clover Honey Sunflower Honey Lavender Honey Spices: Cinnamon Chamomile & Mint Leaves Cumin Curry Powder Salt & Black Pepper Nutmeg Ginger Sage Parsley Cloves Chicory Thyme & Rosemary Fennel & Mustard Horseradish Veggies, Fruits, Berries &Flowers: Dandelions Rose Petals Marigolds Lime Blossoms Cowslips Oranges Pears Apples (Juice & Cider) Figs & Dates Plums Candied Cherries (Glace) Cauliflower Carrots & Onions Pumpkin Peppers (Green & Red Bell peppers & Hot Sweet peppers) Beets Asparagus Celery Mushrooms Tomatoes Nuts: Walnuts Hazelnuts Chestnuts Almonds Rice & Pasta: Brown Basmati Jasmine Rice Potatoes: All kinds Berries: All kinds Meats & Fishes: Lamb & Goat Pig Chicken, Duck & Goose Rabbit Salmon Freshwater Trout Crab

happytoiletpaper
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happytoiletpaper
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Commented on: Sun Jun 27, 2010 @ 10:44pm


	Brief History of the Island-- *Gypsies originated mostly in India and in Egypt and spread into Europe over time. Approx. two centuries ago, a small band of gypsies (40-50) fled Europe, convinced that their Roma brethren were beginning to succumb to assimilation and, therefore, growing out of the customs and principles by which they'd been raised. Though there was still a number of them, it would not have been safe for the few who remained solid in their gypsy grounds to stay in their homeland when, slowly but surely, they were becoming a dying breed--or an altered, civilized breed, rather. Their raiding and pillaging would become noticed far too easily when there were fewer incidences, and they refused to fall prey to the European government. The band set out to Greece and, once they arrived a week later, hijacked a small cargo ship ports. It would have been a hopeless, dangerous effort to attempt at rekindling the ethnic fire of the gypsies in their homeland so they decided to take the culture elsewhere, take root in an fresher civilization that would be easily influenced, and cultivate the new home into something Roma-oriented. After nearly two weeks at sea, they'd yet to find land. Their resources were dwindling quickly and tension weighed heavily in the small ship. The trip had already taken longer than they'd expected and the gypsies were growing weary of the sea. They hadn't planned on docking on any certain shore--they'd simply left it up to the currents to decide their fates, and many were beginning to regret that decision. It was only after the strongest of the men had nearly succumbed to exhaustion that they crashed onto the island. A straight month on the water had waterlogged the small ship so that when they docked on the island it was crushed, reduced to splinters. Any supplies they still had were lost and a very few of the gypsies drowned from a lack of energy to swim due to exhaustion. The remaining Roma, convinced that destiny had led them to the island, slowly founded the village that they would later refer to as Dalmir, which translates into "a faraway peace."

Commented on: Sun Jun 27, 2010 @ 10:46pm


	Talia's Family History-- Simion Theron Pepé was a direct descendant of the head of the very first league of hunters known to the island. He grew up in a large family, with his father the leader of the hunting group. It was custom in the Pepé line for the first born son of each new generation to have the esteemed position of leader placed upon them. As a result, Simion had been told daily, even as a child, that his purpose in life was to marry a woman, make many children, and, once his father passed, take over as the head of the hunters of the village of Abela. A strict childhood made a strict man of him, and Simion soon became revered and feared as a god, due to his potential and the skill he obtained and the speed at which he learned. At eighteen years of age, he married Nadya Czigany, a beautiful island dancer and nearly three years younger than him. They hadn't loved each other, but rather grew to love one another after a time as one loves a brother for knowing all of his secrets. At the age of nineteen, his father died, having been attacked by a mountain lion during the hunt, and Simion took no time in rooting firmly in his position as the head. With a child already on the way, Nadya feared the worst, that he'd share his father's fate and die young, leaving her to care for the baby on her own. But Simion was a strong man, and in some ways wiser than his father. He knew his limits and took into consideration the things that his father hadn't--his well-being and that of his family. Talia was born nearly a month after the day that marked Simion's twentieth year, when Nadya was far into the age of seventeen. It came as quite a disappointment to Simion that his wife had bore a daughter rather than a son to carry out his legacy, and while Nadya adored Talia, her husband remained indifferent about the child, and would until he had himself a son. A thick sheet of tension grew between the husband and wife. Talia was a scapegoat that they both used whenever it would be in their advantage. The three of them lived soundly, but their home lacked the compassion that it once had. Four years later, Simion grew ill. The islanders often caught a fever or a cold, and the doctors had no trouble using their herbs and practices to heal them. But this was a sickness that they'd not experienced before. His body burned with a heat so intense that he often blacked out, and his lungs were filled with fluids so that his chest wracked with coughs that sent such pain through his chest that he convulsed and writhed. For a month, he was in such a condition, and for just as long the doctors attempted to help him, but it was to no avail. He died at the age of twenty-four. From then on, Nadya and Talia lived alone. Nadya was a good mother to her child, but she was distant after her husband passed, never growing near to anyone and keeping Talia close at all times. It was Talia that became her closest and only friend, and once she retired from her life as a dancer to a simpler trade of weaving and sewing, they spent their days together, for the most part. Nadya would create stories and tales to entertain her daughter with, and once she grew old enough, Talia even helped her to create them. It became a game for them, and they'd spend hours at a time perfecting each detail until they believed that they were as true and real as the sun. When Talia was fourteen, the island was attacked. There'd been a celebration that night, a wedding, and many of the islanders were too intoxicated to notice what was happening. Talia and her mother had gone home after the ceremony itself, seeing as neither of the two were sociable, or even had the desire to be, and as a result, they had a few minutes notice where the other villagers were caught completely off guard. The two women had been sitting by the fireplace, Nadya knitting a sweater, for the cold seasons were approaching, and Talia struggling to piece together fragments of a tale that she and her mother had created long ago, when they heard the first of the chaos begin. Shrill cries and frightened snarls echoed throughout the streets, warning the islanders of their near demise. It was conceivable, in a pessimists eyes, that they'd eventually find themselves under siege, for the island had survived many decades unscathed. An attack was inevitable, though they'd taken every precaution possible to prevent it, and Nadya took action immediately. Her first priority was Talia, so she hid the girl away in a cupboard, sheltered by a layer of rags that would turn the pirates away, for they would not waste their time pillaging through old, twine blankets. A knock at the door announced the pirates' arrival. They'd been polite enough to knock before breaking through the door and murdering Nadya who'd only just finished concealing her daughter away. A gasp from Talia gave her away, and the pirates, rather than killing her, decided to take her hostage. They'd tied her to a post meant to keep horses in place while being auctioned off along with a small group of young women that they'd deemed worthy of living a short while longer than the others. Defiant behavior from Talia and a sharp tongue as they'd worked to tie her up earned the young woman a knife wound that had nearly cost her her life and a scar that, to this day, remains as a reminder of the fate she nearly suffered. Talia was nimble with her hands, having spent many afternoons learning to sew and weave alongside her mother, and didn't stay tied up for too long before she'd escaped. The girls hadn't appear to pose much of a threat so the pirates had left them unsupervised, which gave Talia the few minutes she needed to assist in untying the other young women. Unfortunately, she'd been noticed, and though they all fled, she was among the three that actually escaped. The others were killed. The girls each took off in their own directions--Talia and one of the others, Rye, to the forest, the other, Alexandria, to the caves. All night, they stayed hidden in the shelter of the underbrush, listening until the screaming and crying of the dark turned into weeping and moaning in the morning. When they reached the village, or what was left of it, they were greeted with the scent of smoldering fire and deep, rotting decay. Rye's younger brother and father had survived--her mother had died when she was young. Talia had no need to check up on her family--she'd heard her mother's death and seen her corpse as she was dragged from her home, which was now nothing but a scorched foundation sprinkled with dark splinters and ashes. She'd lost her mother, her belongings, her life. She was an orphan now, and a homeless one at that, all because a few sea-going vagabonds had decided that their island was suitable for pillaging. From then on, Talia lived on her own. Until homes were rebuilt, she'd stayed with Rye's family. Their house had suffered minimal damage, as it was nearer the outskirts of the village, and she spent her days there entertaining the young boy with stories, whenever she could muster the will to do much of anything. There was a sort of distance that had come between Talia and the rest of the world--a wall of emotion, or perhaps the lack thereof, that kept her from growing genuinely close to anyone. Once her home repair was complete, she moved back to her house. The village accepted and even encouraged her solitude, for it was custom that an orphan be left to fend for themselves. A child without parents was not deserving of any sort of attention, for their reputation had died along with their parents. In spite of all this, Talia made quite a living for herself, and soon became known as the village minstrel. She and Rye remained friends, despite her reputation, and most of the villagers often overlook her social status, though she's hardly considered an acquaintance to any of them.

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