[center] [h2][color=82ca9d]Sorrin Lucielle[/color][/h2] [sub]Interacting with: [color=bc79cb]Adorabella[/color] [@eclecticwitch], [color=9bd9e3]Arden[/color] [@Pupperr], [color=e9967a]Bree[/color] [@Ellion][/sub] [/center] Warmth. It was a comfort that Sorrin had nearly given up on in the stone prison she found herself in. She willed her bare skin to absorb as much of the sensation as possible as she let her body sink into the water. The scene allowed her a moment of rest from the pent up fear that had been plaguing her since their first breakfast in captivity, the first time since she had been taken from her home in the meadows since she was able to relax. Sorrin had blocked out most of the happenings of the previous day, only remembering small snippets here and there. She could remember eating her food and laughing alongside another girl, a pretty girl she had not met prior to that meal. It was a girl she distinctly remembered liking and wanting to be friends with, but in the next moment the girl had vanished. Or was it that her attention had been pulled away? The memories were all mixed up and fuzzy, like trying to recall a dream hours after having woken up. Sorrin could remember a man, a horrible man whose voice alone made her tremble now… Why did she fear him so much, it wasn’t as if he had done anything to her… Ah, but he had, though perhaps not directly. Sorrin had not bowed, she hadn’t even stood up from her seat when the men entered, but her friend had. Adorabella had tried to warn her, but she just hadn’t understood. It wasn’t until the men drew closer that Sorrin bolted up in a panic. Even she did not know if her plan was to run or to fall to her knees and beg forgiveness, all she did know, all she could remember was the pain that followed. She could not recall much of the hours afterward, her mind and body numbed by the shock leaving not even the energy to properly cry. If she did, there was no memory of it. One thing she did not doubt, however, was the presence of a friend who never left her side. She didn’t have to remember it to be certain of it, she had faith in Adorabella even if they had only known each other for a short time. By the end of the day, Sorrin was completely exhausted and more than ready for bed. She allowed Adorabella to cleanse her wounds and care for her before she was forced to return back to her own room where she was forced to spend another cold night alone. Sorrin inhaled the humid air deeply, the heat and the water clearing her mind enough to return a small smile to her face. The whole thing felt strange to her still, having a hard time believing that the same men who had hurt them the morning before would return with kindness and mercy. She wasn’t going to argue it though. Even if it was temporary, even if it was some precursor to something more terrible than the day before, Sorrin didn’t care. They couldn’t take away the feelings of happiness and peace that flowed through her at that moment. She had been allowed a luxury, and nothing was going to change that. Glancing around, Sorrin realized that in her daze she had never met back up with Adorabella. Carefully rising to her feet, the blonde slowly made her way through the springs in search of her friend. It wasn’t until now that Sorrin realized how many girls had actually been taken like her, the sheer number of people in the room making it difficult to locate any one face from a distance. The steam was no help either. Closing her eyes, Sorrin tried to focus on the sound of Adorabella’s voice, hoping that she might hear the girl say something so that she might locate her in the surprisingly spacious room. She had almost given up when she heard it, faint due to the obstacles between them, but Sorrin recognized it right away. Step by step she made her way in the direction that she had heard the voice, moving around a small grouping of girls until she could finally see her target. Sitting just a little way aways was Adorabella who seemed to have made contact with another group. The faces tugged at her memory, but it was the bruise on the stomach of the one girl that really brought it back for her. She was the one that got dragged up in front of everybody and beaten half to death in the name of education. Just the thought made the young girl tremble, her progression towards the group coming to a sudden halt. She stood standing there for a moment before she shook her head and took a deep breath. “[color=82ca9d]I feel bad, I missed you at breakfast.[/color]” Sorrin spoke as she approached the group. She did her best to put a smile on her face, clearly not feeling the best but making the effort all the same. “[color=82ca9d]I’m sorry if I’m intruding, I can go somewhere else if you would prefer…[/color]” [hider=Summary] Playing catch up summary, fuzzy flashback to the previous day. Realizes she hasn’t seen Adorabella since the night before and goes looking for her. [/hider] [hr] [center] [h2][color=f26522]Aurora Liesma[/color][/h2] [sub]Interacting with: N/A[/sub] [/center] Aurora was no stranger to fire, nor was she ignorant of the pain it was capable of causing. For years she had trained with and around flames that were constantly in motion and under the control of another person. She was taught to have trust in her companions, to have faith that they would land their marks and that no harm would be done, but sometimes it just didn’t work out that way. Nobody was perfect, and sometimes her neighbors would get their timing wrong. It wasn’t as if this was the first time she had been burned, but the pain far exceeded even her expectations. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt in practice, and she suspected that it had to do with more than just the fact that these monsters were intentionally doing her harm. Their fire felt of pure malice, though whether it was their gods’ or their own she could not tell. Aurora knew better than to try and fight the pain, however, and let her voice join the chorus of others who were grabbed and burned for their lack of respect. Unlike many others, however, she did not cower back in fear or tremble against a wall for support. She stood up as tall as she could on her toes and marched on, a thin layer of sweat lining her skin in response to the damage done. She couldn’t bring herself to cry, she was far too angry for that. The girl was angry at herself for having not done better, she should have known from their demeanour that they would have expected such a submissive position from their girls. She should have taken a closer look around the room and followed the example of the crowd, as the majority that did bow had chosen a position close to the floor. Aurora was frustrated that she had allowed herself to remain standing so tall when she knew better. It wasn’t just herself she was angry at though, after all, wasn’t it their goal to teach them? How was it fair to test on something they had never been taught, surely the Drakkan knew they had no reason to take up such a position in their homeland unless for prayer. All she could feel was anger, and she was determined to use it. It fueled her through the rest of her day, keeping her on her toes for the longest amount of time she had ever been. If anything, she considered it less of a punishment and more of a training exercise like the ones she had gone through back home. By the end of the day her legs were sore, but she didn’t mind the familiar tenderness. She welcomed it as an old friend and held on to it for comfort as she lay down for the night. [center]~~~[/center] The following morning she could almost walk normally, still keeping her weight forward to avoid irritating the wounds any further. She took note of the sullen faces around her, more broken spirits to add to the pile. It was a shame but there was nothing she could do about it. Aurora could only look after herself if she wanted to survive the hell she had been dragged into. Breakfast was even more dismal than before, many of the Gem dishes having been removed just to be replaced with different Drakkan delicacies. Clearly they were being weaned off of the luxuries of home, silently having their cultures ripped away from them as if the beatings and lessons weren’t enough. She ate in silence, not engaging with any of the others until the warden from before returned. Aurora rose alongside many of the other girls, each promptly taking their place on the floor as they had been taught the day before. Once was enough to get the point across to the brunette, the girl easing her body to the floor so that she might blend back in with the group. She only half-listened as the man mocked them for doing the very thing they had been tortured into learning, the young girl having to bite her tongue so that she would not speak out of turn. Her attention, however, was regained by the mention of a recovery day. The girls would be given a day in a hot springs where they could regain their strength and relax instead of being forced to sit through grueling lessons. At first she was extremely skeptical, not trusting in something that sounded too good to be true… But as the group finished their meals, they were lead down into a cavernous space filled with warm steam and soothing waters. Aurora began to wonder whether or not her injuries had killed her in her sleep. She was slow to undress, surprisingly shy for a girl who performed in front of hundreds of people without batting an eye. However, she wasn’t really one to show of her naked body to others. A midriff was one thing, complete nudity another. She held her towel close to her chest as she approached the edges of the water, sitting with her legs dipped into the liquid. It made her feel better to see scores of girls who hadn’t even bothered to undress yet, proving she wasn’t the only one worried about appearances. Aurora sat back and watched the groups form from afar, listening to the growing chatter and laughter. She didn’t know how they could bond so easily, how they could allow themselves to befriend each other so quickly. Didn’t they know that they were just days away from being split apart once again. These girls were going to have to relive the pain they felt the day they were taken because they couldn’t stand to be alone for just a couple of days. There wasn’t much she could judge them for, though, as she felt a small twinge in her chest looking at them. For a brief moment she wished she could be among them, laughing away the fear of what was to come… But she knew better. Her goal was to survive, to do better than her sister had, and she wasn’t going to do that by making friends and ignoring her inevitable future. “[color=f26522]Such joy… I wonder how long it will last.[/color]” [hider=Summary] Just some reactions, some judging from a judgey-judge…. Aurora don’t need no friends… She thinks you’re all stuuuuupid. [/hider] [hr] [center] [h2][color=8493ca]Azilon Dantanath[/color][/h2] [sub]Reluctant husband of: [color=98fb98]Rya[/color] [@Ellion] Interacting with: [color=98fb98]Rya[/color] [@Ellion][/sub] [/center] Rya’s displeasure at her situation was made quite clear, as if the struggle she put up earlier wasn’t enough of an indicator. The entire walk was spent either dragging her along behind him or twisting to avoid being ensnared by the thread. It didn’t particularly bother him, however, finding her efforts to inconvenience him somewhat amusing. For him, her antics were easily ignored as the family made their way toward the tournament grounds. What started getting to him were the frequent stops his sister Morganna kept making along the way. Eventually the group made it to their destination, the man pausing at the entrance before heading inside. Azilon made his way to a seat so that he could relax, thinking to himself of how much he would rather have been at home. At least at home there was peace and quiet, none of the pointless noise or pathetic squandering. There weren’t any seats for the brides that were dragged along by their husbands, the girls forced to either stand, kneel on the ground, or sit in their husband’s lap. Azilon figured he had tortured Rya enough for the day, leaving any of those options available to her. Whatever she chose, he knew she wouldn’t be happy as she still had to wear the chain around her waist. The man raised an eyebrow at the girl, silently asking her what her choice was on the matter before his attention was regained by his father. Taking a seat nearby, the Salazar had pulled a girl he did not recognize into his lap. Azilon was quick to recognize the attire and branding as belonging to the crown, no doubt the entertainment promised by the invitation they had received. Even through all of her training he could tell how scared she was, her youth giving her away as one of the more rookie girls. His dad sure knew how to pick on the vulnerable. Out of the corner of his eye, Azilon took note of where the rest of his siblings had wandered off too; his two brothers and elder sister enthralled by the fighting, the younger sister he hadn’t met until recently sticking close to Tarkylian’s side. “[color=f4a460]So, Azilon… You still haven’t told me how you acquired such a beautiful young thing, it was to my knowledge that you did not attend these sorts of things.[/color]” The man spoke with a smirk, barely paying attention to the person he addressed. Instead his attention was seemingly preoccupied with the girl in his lap, his not so gentle hands ever wandering about her form. Azilon chose to ignore the display, tuning out any sounds the creature made. “[color=8493ca]I fail to see how it matters to you how I got her. The how does not change that she belongs to me now and will continue to belong to me.[/color]” His response was rather short but his tone was sharp, clearly warning the man to stay away. “[color=f4a460]Seems that your grasp on manners has slipped quite a bit since you moved out, need I remind you who you’re speaking to?[/color]” Salazar glanced over, his eyes piercing into Azilon like daggers. He would not be deterred so easily though, he knew how to handle his father. There had been no fear of the man for quite some time. “[color=8493ca]Manners are for those who deserve my respect. Needless to say, you don’t make the cut.[/color]” Azilon nearly hissed his words, eyes rising up to meet the challenge his father threw him. The tension in the air grew, the small girl yelping in pain as the man’s hand squeezed too tightly around her sensitive chest. “[color=f4a460]I see… Guess I will have to remind you after all.[/color]” He smirked, taking note of the servant beckoning to them. Their turn in the tournament had come, an underhanded trick of his to be sure, entering them the night before without Azilon’s knowledge. [center]~~~[/center] It didn’t take long for the pair to find themselves at the center of the arena, plenty of faces looking down on them, eager to see the results. Salazar was no push over, a skilled fighter with a pension for cruelty. Many knew his name and just as many knew his face, Azilon was not so famous. He was practically a ghost, a living myth to those who knew of him but hadn’t seen him in years. Up in the seats, Morganna had been left in charge of Rya’s leash, the woman lounging in Azilon’s seat without a care of what was happening between the boys. She had seen it happen a thousand times and a thousand times Azilon had lost. Morganna had to give him credit though, as he had vastly improved over the years, she wondered if it were possible for him to finally win one. “[color=ed1c24]You there, chew toy.[/color]” She barked, giving a strong tug on the chain to get Rya’s attention. “[color=ed1c24]Go to the edge there and watch the fight for me…. Oh, and don’t worry about Azi, if he dies I’m sure father will claim you. You’ll be well taken care of.[/color]” Morganna chuckled, swishing her hand dismissively as she lay her head back to relax. By this point the men had chosen their weapons, Azilon fighting with his preferred dual blades. Salazar, much to the surprise of his son, waived his right to a weapon so that he would be fighting with his bare fists. He wasn’t the type to take unnecessary risks in battle, everything that he did was calculated and served a purpose. Azilon figured his father was trying to intimidate him, he wasn’t going to let him do so. Azilon moved quickly about the field, keeping to his toes and quick to dodge many of the blows his father threw at him. Several times he felt his blades strike flesh, the scent of blood continuing to fill the air, however he knew that each of his strikes were too shallow to do any real harm. Salazar barrelled forward, an unrelenting force that allowed Azilon no moment to rest or regain his bearings. The two kept moving, one throwing punches that knocked the air from his opponent, the other slowly chipping away at his father until both were heaving for air. Azilon was the first to falter, Salazar seizing the opportunity to wrap his arm around the boy’s neck cutting off his access to air. Struggling against the grip, Azilon tried to break away but he found there was not much in the way of escape with his current state. Striking outward, Azilon brought his arms back and down digging his blades into Salazar’s legs. Salazar groaned with pain but it was not enough for him to loosen his grip on Azilon’s neck, the boy’s vision beginning to blur as he fought against him. Not yet willing to give up, Azilon slammed his palm into his father’s nose with a force that surprised even him. The impact stunned the elder man just long enough for him to break away, quick hands retrieving his blades from his relative’s flesh before kicking the man over. Eyes blazing with rage, Azilon stood over the body of his father, clearly poised to strike once again. He brought his blade down quickly, the intent to kill quite clear in his demeanour as he moved to strike. Steel was met with steel, Azilon glancing up angrily as he locked eyes with the warden who had stepped in with his own weapon to keep him from killing his opponent. “[color=gray]Do not disgrace your win.[/color]” The man grunted, Azilon growling as he stepped back. Glancing back down at Salazar who was already recovering, brushing himself off with a laugh as he stood back up. “[color=f4a460]You’ve improved a lot. A few more years and you might be able to stand up to Morganna.[/color]” Azilon rolled his eyes and turned away, taking his leave of the field to return to Rya. Morganna opened her mouth to say something but was silenced by the look in his eyes, the man tearing the chain from his sister’s hand. “[color=8493ca]Come on Rya, we’re leaving.[/color]” He growled, not giving her much time to react before he started dragging her toward the door. [hider=Summary] Saltyness… Some nondescript inappropriateness… Fighty fights happen. Angry winner stomps away. [/hider]