Slaves in the Warehouse, the RP

"So a pain grows inside and a fear comes alive like you'll never be free..."

Just a few notes before we get started here,

You can still join! I'll try my best to get you caught up via NaNo mail, but please go over to the Sign-Up thread and we'll discuss over there.

Remember the rules. Swearing is allowed because, well, I have a potty mouth worse than a sailor's :)

The setting is currently in the holding center for slaves where masters can drop them off. Feel free to let other slaves/masters converse until I add the drama.

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Katrina snapped her fingers, yellow eyes burning holes into the prison-like bars that held slaves captive. "Luca," She called out, clicking her tongue a bit when he took too long. She pressed down on the button on the remote that controlled his collar, creating shock that rushed through him.

Luca bit back a scream and bucked backwards, bleach blonde hair falling into his eyes. When the electrical currents stopped, he gasped out, "Master. I'm sorry,"

Katrina nodded, holding out her hand. "Good. Now, be good."

The Master paused, glancing around the large holding cell. Of all the places Lady Shard wanted to meet, why did it have to be here -- it was distateful, and more than a touch too crowded for his tastes.

He didn't see her, either. It was just like her to lurk, making him wait. The Master sighed and withdrew a small silver pocketwatch from his jacket. And he was on time, too. Pity. He might have to leave early -- give his regards, of course, such a pity he had to be going -- as he was a busy man, and the Dictator had been making noise about some sort of meeting this afternoon. He'd be expected to attend.

He clicked the watch shut and tucked it away. "Seta, Denada."

At his left, a shadow shifted, grew tense and alert while it awaited orders. The Master waved a hand dissmissively without so much as looking at either woman. "Both of you, feel free to mingle. Keep an eye out for Shard and her slaves, come and report back if you find them. And stay close. I don't want to have to go looking for you."

"Master," the woman on the left nodded, her voice like smoke and whiskey and melted dark chocolate. She shifted out of his shadow and moved off to the left, slipping aorund other slaves-and-masters as if they weren't even there. She stuck out in the crowd, her spine as stiff as an iron poker, her fit figure clung to by black jeans and a black sweater, the bell-sleeves of which brushed against her knees as she moved. Though she wore heavy, steel-toed boots, Denada didn't make a sound.

The Master would be lying if he said he didn't watch her walk away.

Another woman stood to the Master's right, vastly different from the first. For one, she was short and entirely unimposing, with enormous olive-green eyes that seemed to want to take in all of her surroundings at once. For another, she didn't have the other's smooth self-assured stance or movements. Seta jerked mostly, like a spider scuttling across the sidewalk one minute and sitting perfectly still as soon as it found cover. The overall affect was amusing and non-threatening, two words you would never associate with Denada.

When the man addressed her, one little bony hand flew up to her collar to rub it in what was probably a self-conscious manner. "Oh, yes sir Mr... I mean, Master." She gave him a small smile he probably didn't see before taking off to weave through the crowd. "Excuse me, sorry, just coming through..."

As it was, finding one of Shard's slaves turned out to be a fairly easy task. Omaron stood out in the middle of the crowd like a penguin in a flock of pigeons, almost literally. Whereas most of those present wore whatever dirty rags their masters had spared for their use, his clothing consisted of a fairly nice black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. He wouldn't have been out of place among the hired help of an old-time English manner, if his expression weren't so disgruntled. His expression cleared almost immediately, however, when he saw someone he recognized.

"Denada?"

Diablos looked around the holding center, or cell, anxiously. There were so many people here, and as he was currently lacking a master, he knew that one of them would soon own him.

He hated that. Being owned. He was almost a rebel by nature, and having a master fueled that. Plus, of course, his first master wasn't the kindest. Nor did he expect any other master he would ever have to be kind either.

He flexed his knuckles and bit his lip, unable to place which master would be the best to have once the buying took place. It would have to be one that was up for a challenge. Diablos knew he'd be pulling stunts nearly as soon as he was in his new master's hands.

"Excuse me, please-- oh."

Seta blinked at Diablos curiously. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. You don't happen to be one of Shard's, do you?"

Omaron smiled at Denada. It was a slight smile to be sure, but it was a big change from the expression he'd been wearing earlier. "Too long you mean." His grey eyes traveled from Denada's face to her Master, standing back near the cell's entrance and looking impatient. "I expect he's waiting for Shard?"

As though on cue, a slender figure stepped through the door near the man. Shard was well-dressed as usual, her auburn hair just brushing the shoulders of her grey dress. A cup of tea was clutched in her hands.

"Oh hello there dear," she said with a smile. The corners of her big brown eyes crinkled. "Just had to stop by the tea shop you know."

Chris leaned against the back of the cage they were held in, gazing warily around her. Already the rich were starting to filter in and look over her and her fellow prisoners as one might inspect a horse for sale. But that's all they were to these people, beasts of burden.
"Chris," a small voice whispered in her ear. "I'm scared. These people don't look too nice. That lady just shocked that boy, and it looked like it hurt." The voice belonged to Calypso, who was Chris's little sister for all intents and purposes.
"C'mere, sweetie," Chris said gently as she pulled the young girl into her arms. "I'll protect you. I won't let them hurt you." But in the back of her mind Chris knew it was a promise she likely wouldn't be able to keep.

Jessamine sighed, another day of hard work. She went of in search of her master Makayla. She would surely have some horrible task for her to perform.

Diablos looked over at two of the slaves in the cage with him. The one he thought he heard his name was 'Chris.' The little girl that was with her was right to be scared. He was too - but he would never admit it to anyone.

He looked down at the floor and sighed. He didn't know how much longer he'd be in here - how much longer he wouldn't be able to do anything for some fun.

"Maybe no one will want us!" Cally said hopefully.
Chris just shook her head. "Calypso, have you seen yourself lately? You're a good-looking teenage girl, someone will want you."
"They'll want you too," she said seriously. "You're pretty, and strong, and you can fight. Maybe someone will take us both."
"I hope so," she murmured. "We've been here awhile, we've only survived this long by staying in the back but they'll want to get rid of us."
((Would there be people who would force them to go up front so buyers could see them?))

Seta frowned slightly when Diabolo didn't reply to her, but oh well. Maybe someone else would be more talkative. She went back to milling through the cell. It looked like Shard had already arrived anyways.

Shard smiled before taking a sip from her cup. "Very. But yes, you're a practical man and I'm sure you'd rather I got to the point of our meeting." She tilted her head in her odd birdlike way. "I talked with Urungor the other day. I mean, the dictator. Strange man, asking us to address him by his first name like that."

"Leaving soon? That's unfortunate." Omaron fiddled nervously with his collar-- blasted thing, he never would get used to it. "I've been as good as can be expected. I think I'm starting to get used to this... occupation. Never thought I would." His smile was a little weak. "How have you been?"

The Master offered a shrug and a wry smile, "People will have their quirks -- and really, I don't think I'm the one who gets to cast stones about what someone wants to be called. But you spoke with him? About what, if I might ask?"

Denada kept a careful half-eye on her Master, in case she was needed. She turned to face Omaron more fully and inclined her head slightly, thoughtful. It seemed to draw the eye to the collar clasped around her slim throat. She was comfortable in it -- after twenty years of wearing it, she should be.

"That's right," she said, more to herself, "I'd forgotten -- you haven't been wearing the collar long, have you? I'm glad you seem to be adjusting, then. It makes things easier. I've been... well. Busy, but well. There's a trip planned in a few months time. My master wants to see the South."

She offered a faint shrug -- who am I to question my master or his whims?-- and curled her fingers into loose, unseen fists. "I expect it will be a group holiday."

Delta wrinkled his nose as he looked around the holding cell. How... there were no words. He felt almost reluctant to leave his slaves here. His finger twitched and he could feel a familiar presence come obediently to his side.

"Shale." He turned to look at his favourite, his admitted obsession. "Look out for the little one. Remember your discipline. I find out you've caused any mischief, and we'll have an extra long... session tonight. I might even branch out and work on your little pet."

"Yes, Master." Shale bit out. Behind him, Ryker cowered, shaking at the thought.

"Good boy." Delta said absently. "Still so defiant though, pet. Will you ever break?"

Shale blinked up at him, not sure if an answer was expected.

Delta smirked. "No matter. Feel free to show the little one around. If need be, you may protect him. No one touches my pets."

Shale inclined his head. "Of course, Master." Pulling the shaking Ryker behind him, he left to join the other slaves.

Delta watched, licking his lips. When the crowd had swallowed his slaves, he turned to examine the other masters, as well as to cast an evaluating gaze on the other slaves.

((Buggy, is there some particular way you want me to wiggle Quinnie in here, or should I just have her report to Shard?))

Mikayla leaned against the wall, watching the slaves without humor. A somewhat derisive smile slid onto her face, as her gaze flickered from masters to slaves and back. "Jessamine," the fifteen year old lifted a hand, motioning with her index finger to come closer. "C'mere," though her smile remained, her gaze was steely, "Now."

"Oh, this and that..." Shard looked down to idly examine her fingernails. "He's a businessman first and foremost you know, so the bulk of it was just figures as to how the economy's improving and what he can do to improve trade, that sort of thing. But you know, he did say a bit about concern over..." She glanced at the crowd and lowered her voice. "The idea of rebellion, dear."

Omaron's pale brows rose. "A holiday? That should be... it could be fun, I suppose." As much fun as any of us are capable of having in this condition, he thought a bit bitterly. "Have you been to the South before?"

Jessamine looked down, at her feet, and whispered, "Yes master." Jessamine came closer her blonde ringlets bouncing as she took a couple steps forward.

Diablos stood fully up and walked to the front of the cage, edging between every other slave packed with him. He could now see the majority of masters - and owned slaves - who were there, and it was a lot. All of them flaunted their social status - or seemed to - and he couldn't wait to be given the opportunity to take one or two of them down a notch.

((Oh my, I forgot this started today! Um...I don't think I can post until Lady shows up...so I'll just be lurking.))

Shard looked thoughtful. "Oh, he was trying to get some harmless bills passed, just to secure some basic rights for slaves, but unfortunately he said some rather unwise things to the wrong people... Urungor got him for treason in the end, but everyone knows he was looking for a way to shut him up for a while. Omaron was an annoyance. Fortunately for me he makes a rather striking butler. An indentured butler of course, but still... Anyways, as far as quieting things goes, he was considering a sort of compromise. He's not about to free anyone, which is what that irritating little faction wants, but he's thinking about making severe beatings and other mistreatments illegal. It's just a thought though; he needs more information, a better feel on the public mood."

Shard finished off her tea and snapped her fingers. "You, girl... oh what was her name, Quinnie? Yes, Quinnie come here."

"Really?" Omaron looked rather pleased at the prospect of going South at the same time as Denada. "She'll probably have be doing stupid little errands for her the entire time though."

Katrina looked around at the slaves conversing. How dare do those masters let them talk? "Don't you speak to anyone," She hissed at Luca, pushing him into the cell. "I will know if you do. Only speak unless you are spoken to by someone without a collar," She grabbed his hair forcefully and leaned up to his face. "You know what will happen if you disobey me, baby boy."

"Is there anything you need ma'am?" Jessamine asked Makayla looking very upset.