Enslaved (RP)

The unutterable dark of dreamless sleep changed tone, becoming a blackness somehow differentiated in that there were the first faint flickers of awareness returning. The world was a swimming, floating blank, but little sensations sneaked back into that world. His head felt fuzzy, which meant he had a head. His mouth tasted funny, which meant he had a mouth. His ears buzzed, which meant he had ears. He was a he, which meant he had other things. He had a name, but he could not recall it or anything for that matter.


He smelled humans and other unspeakable creatures, the new life and decay of the arena. There seemed every reason to fear. He wasn't dead. His father had been a werewolf, and his mother a wolf shifter. Right now he was, though a bit of an aching one, a very massive MadDog. His eyes opened blearily as he began to stretch and yawn, but startled when he realized those aches were due to things binding him immobile, small flakes of snow clung to his fur like little hitch hikers.


It was then he panicked, because bindings were for prisoners, and he had never been one of those. There had been the freedom of the packs and the snowy forests around it.


He let out a frustrated, rather piteous snarl.


Half-blind, deaf but for the buzzing in his ears, he jerked at his bonds and found he had steel chains around each paw and a massive collar linked to the heavy chain around his neck, he wobbled to his feet. Blinking, he got dizzy, and the buzz in his ears became a roar of a crowd, he looked out his cell and could just see the arena of people cheering on the two dark warriors locked in battle up on the black sands, and there seated high above there where finely dressed humans, with servants holding platters of food and drink surrounding them. He eyes feel to the shadows on the sand as one gave a mighty shout and dispatched the other cleanly, the crowds screamed with delight, MaDog jumped at his bars snarling and snapping.

********

Beast sat in her cell, dosing slightly, her muscles strung tight as her hand clutched her blade why she rested, the shock collar about her neck insured that she remain put, She heard the cheers and knew another warrior had fallen, the snow cold on her cheek iced over like her heart, she puffed a small flame heating her body and drying the snow off her.

********

Flame laid flat over her back, the medic doctoring the wounds on her belly, she snaked her head around to look at him, “How bad off is it?”

The Medic grinned at her, “Any deeper and you would be seeing stuff that was not meant to be seen.” He gave a cackle and spread some antibacterial cream in the cuts .

Flame laid her massive head back and closed her eyes, that had been a close call, these new warriors where getting more dangerous it was time to step up her game is she wanted to stay alive.

Jazzamine sighed and began her usual rounds through her building. She had been a Master for awhile now, enough to accumulate a few Champions and Gladiators, and she loved having her own area to keep them. She smiled into the prison cells, which she kept relatively clean and well furnished, since the prisoners were why she was so rich. She looked into one to see a delicate brown haired girl sleeping, and smiled. Iris Parker, or Moonbeam as she was known to the people who watched the Games, was fast asleep on the cot. Jazz almost giggled, according to her medic ((Who I will make a charrie sheet for later)) Miss. Moonbeam was pregnant, and Jazz knew that Carter Andrews, her favorite Champion, was the father. She kept walking, smiling at a few of the prisoners who would begin their training for the Games to take place.


Iris knew when Jazz had looked in. The Light Fairy was nicer than some Master, but not by a lot. She was pretty with blonde ringlet curls and disconcertingly soft puple-gray eyes, and she was shorter then most Masters. She said she used to be a Champion, but Iris couldn't believe someone so dainty looking good have been a monster. She bit back a sigh and turned over, she was disqualified from continuing in the games for ten months, since she was pregnant with Carter's baby. She always knew she would be, since they first met and he had saved her, but it was still sad that the poor thing would be raised as a killer.

Carter was pacing the cell. He knew what he had to do, and he was thirsting for blood. Ever the accommodator, Jazz had given Carter the cell with the most sunlight. Re-inforced crystal windows lined his cell, allowing the morning sunlight to stream in and cook him, warming him and making him stronger. He grinned, cracking his neck by jerking his head. He may not like being killing things, but he knew how to survive.

Patience Lillian was young, but she'd already been living in this cell for several months. It wasn't the worst it could be. Other than the locked door, she wasn't bound, and it was probably due to her age or her gender or the fact that she looked like a twig that could break if you touched it in the wrong place, she hadn't been called out to fight often, and even then it was against fairly evenly matched opponents. She had not killed, nor had she been forced to watch a death. She liked to think that her master, Jazz, had a soft spot for her, for wasn't going to push it to check.

On the other hand, Bramley Chapel had no idea what was going on. He was barely used to this curse and now he was chained in this cell, knowing that once the moon rose again he would probably be called out to fight, and once transformed he would have no control over what happened to him. He was scared and cold and lonely, curled up on his cot, not sleeping. He hoped someone would come round to check on him soon, then he could explain that all this was a mistake and he wasn't supposed to be here.

Morgan Rook, however, was unconscious, stretched out on the cot, unaware of his surroundings. He had been drugged when they brought him to this place, only a couple of hours ago.

Shazra watched the sun rise in Carters cell, and quickly stepped further back into the darkness of Shazra's own. Shazra's bloodthirst began to rise again, despite having fed just the night before, and Shazra started to avoid meeting the gazes of anyone who passed by the cell. If Shazra caught them, they would be paralyzed and Shazra would have to feed. Shazra didn't like feeding on those of simple class. Shazra prefered to only feed on those Mistress Jazzamine had approved.((I've decided she only refers to herself in the third person.))

--

Lycon and Leon awoke, accross from each other in cells. The looked at each other, once again exchanging the silent greeting they had for the past fifteen years. They hadn't spoken in that long, deciding they didn't need to. Spending most of their time as wolves, they didn't have the ability to do so anyway. The sun was arrising, and it brought with it the herald of more fighting. The brothers sat up and waited for their morning meals.

Jazz smiled as she neared the cell of Shazra, "Hungry again dear?" She called, "You poor dear," She smiled at the guard, "Bring her Prisoner number 2, she's the witch with the gray hair," Jazz turned back to Shazra, avoiding her eyes, "She's a bit old dear, but powerful enough for you."

She glanced at the cell next to her, "Patience," She nodded to the girl, "Glad to see your up. Hungry?"

Patience looked up, nodding. "Morning," she said, a little too enthusiastic for someone in her position, but it wasn't like her to be shy.

Jazz nodded, "Guard," She called again, "Bring around the breakfast please, our guests are hungry."
The guard nodded. Another rule of Jazz's was to keep her slaves well-fed. Their breakfast was a eggs, bacon, and a fruit, their lunches a sandwich of some sort, and their super was some heavy meat, potatoes, and a vegetable. They were served water with everything but supper, where they were given wine or juice.

Patience smiled, accepting the food. She was better fed here than she had been back home, scavenging half the time, eating heavily salted meat and bread the rest.

Jazz gestured for a chair to be brought and sat down beside them, "Carter, Iris is officially pregnant," She told the Champion, "And you are the happy father. I believe this baby will be the best," She smiled at her three guests, taking a tiny sip of her water.

"Who will be fighting today?" asked Patience.

"Thank you, Mistress," Shazra said. Shazra watched the guard bring the elderly witch into Shazra's cell and eagerly decended upon her. As soon as Shazra finished, the elderly woman feinted into the gaurds awaiting arms and was dragged out. "Shazra thanks you for your donation," The Dark Lady told the unconcious witch before moving back into the darkness.

Omega sat in his cell, glaring daggers at the floor. There wasn't much else he could do without X's permission, and he despised that fact. It wasn't like X actually cared about him, no, that definitely wasn't it. X had always preferred Omega's elder brother. The obedient one, the one who Omega secretly feared because the boy was so horribly broken.
~~~~~
Alpha sat cross-legged in his cell, happily grinning at the wall. That had been his order, and he was all-too happy to obey. Just stare at the wall and be quiet until he was needed. It wasn't too hard of an order, though Alpha was anxious to be out and fighting, if only to prove his worth again and again to X.

Jazz shrugged at Patience, "I'm not sure yet dear," She smiled, "I have sent letters to the other Masters to see if they want to battle today, and I await their letters," She grinned at Shazra, "Feeling better dear?" She asked.

Aspen fluttered to and fro in his spacious cell. He uncomfortably fiddled with his pouch of dust, unknowingly spilling it all over the floor. This whole situation was very unnatural to him. He had never been without the presence of his friend Rashon, whom he might be world away from by now. He had never been taken prisoner, either. The bars of his cell were too small, even for a pigmy fairy like himself. He settled down on his human-size cot and sighed in defeat.

X stared at the now-crumpled letter clenched in his fist. A challenge? This could be a perfect opportunity to let the brat out of its cage. I accept he quickly wrote Name the time and place as well as the number of challengers. Personally I prefer one-one-ones, but I will be chivalrous and allow the lady to decide.

Jazz nodded as the servant delivered her a message from X, she laughed, "Please tell Mr. X that the place will be the Arena, obviously, the time will be the second time slot, and the number will be one on one. His chivalry is much appreciated, and duly noted," She smiled, "Then tell the Arena Board I request the second time slot for a one on one bottle."
The servant nodded and ran off. Jazz smirked, she had no need for wasting paper now that she had a challenger.

"Much better, Mistress," Shazra grinned, teeth visible despite the darkness of her cell.

Jazz nodded, "Shazra, I want your opinion," She demanded, "Be honest, what do you think of Miranda, the new girl?"

((Kitty, your getting someone you can kill!))

"The new girl?" Shazra asked. "Shazra beleive's she will die in her first match." Then again, Shazra beleived that of everyone. Except for that pair, Leon and Lycon. They hadn't come close to mortal wound in the fifteen years they had been here.

"Not everyone has to die in their battles," Patience pointed out.