Metronome Member
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Most Recent Posts
and elric finally got his ship
Rhone x everyone
it's canon.
it's canon.
but what about
polygamy.
polygamy.
Rhone followed behind his new master obediently. As expected, he showed no signs of trying to escape. After all, where would he go? He had been a slave all his life; living on his own wasn't an option anymore.
He glanced up to see two women approaching them. The tall one that resembled his master must have been Rosa. His daughter, maybe. She was a fair in appearance, he couldn't help but notice, but Rhone hadn't forgotten why he was here in the first place. Speaking with his master's daughter outside of what was strictly allowed was bound to get him punished.
The small woman, he thought she was a dwarf or a gnome (honestly, he couldn't tell the difference), was a strange sight. She barely came up to his hips. And yet still, she spoke of him as if he were an object, showing that, despite her size, she was still over him on the social ladder.
He glanced up to see two women approaching them. The tall one that resembled his master must have been Rosa. His daughter, maybe. She was a fair in appearance, he couldn't help but notice, but Rhone hadn't forgotten why he was here in the first place. Speaking with his master's daughter outside of what was strictly allowed was bound to get him punished.
The small woman, he thought she was a dwarf or a gnome (honestly, he couldn't tell the difference), was a strange sight. She barely came up to his hips. And yet still, she spoke of him as if he were an object, showing that, despite her size, she was still over him on the social ladder.
"He thinks he can," Sasha said with a bitter tone, "Because he's an arrogant piece of shit. He's got people eating out of his hands; his little cult practically worships him. Ever heard of Hitler, sweetheart?"
The man got his arms under him and slowly, gingerly, pushed himself up into a sitting position. He winced as his body complained, but he couldn't stand to lay on his stomach any longer. Sasha turned to look at the woman as he spoke.
"I came here because I'm tired of seeing it. The things he does and gets away with...it's fucked up." He raised a hand to rest on his face, dirt still clinging to his skin. Sasha needed a nice bath and a change of clothes. And maybe something to eat; he was starving. "He's got a few hundred people in his cult, and a couple hundred more that'll do what he says because they're scared of him. I don't know what this 'blessed ones' nonsense is, but a few of them got powers. I don't think the kids do."
Fen listened to the whole thing on the edge of his seat. He looked between Ravenia and Sasha, biting his lip. He'd heard Ravenia's threat to send the children away should they be a threat, and he feared she might actually go through with it. Even if they were spies, they were just kids!
"Uh, Ravenia," He said timidly. "Could I, um. Well I was thinking maybe I could talk to them? To the kids, I mean. Maybe we won't have to...throw them out?"
The man got his arms under him and slowly, gingerly, pushed himself up into a sitting position. He winced as his body complained, but he couldn't stand to lay on his stomach any longer. Sasha turned to look at the woman as he spoke.
"I came here because I'm tired of seeing it. The things he does and gets away with...it's fucked up." He raised a hand to rest on his face, dirt still clinging to his skin. Sasha needed a nice bath and a change of clothes. And maybe something to eat; he was starving. "He's got a few hundred people in his cult, and a couple hundred more that'll do what he says because they're scared of him. I don't know what this 'blessed ones' nonsense is, but a few of them got powers. I don't think the kids do."
Fen listened to the whole thing on the edge of his seat. He looked between Ravenia and Sasha, biting his lip. He'd heard Ravenia's threat to send the children away should they be a threat, and he feared she might actually go through with it. Even if they were spies, they were just kids!
"Uh, Ravenia," He said timidly. "Could I, um. Well I was thinking maybe I could talk to them? To the kids, I mean. Maybe we won't have to...throw them out?"
Rhone waited by the auctioneer as his new master paid his bill. The man was tall, lean, and pale. Most of his masters were pale skinned, so that didn't surprise him too terribly much. Rhone had learned over the years to associate a pale complexion with cruelty and deceit. He'd only met a handful of decent people who had it.
This man, however, seemed nice enough. He insisted that the shackles be removed from Rhone, freeing his wrists and ankles from the rusted metal. He gingerly rubbed his wrists once the weight had been removed from them, cautiously reminding himself not to let a small act of kindness win him over. It wasn't a new trick. A master would act kind to him at first, try to win his trust, but when they lost their patience with him, they were like all the rest.
Rhone kept his eyes downward as the man introduced himself, trained to never look his master in the eye. He was taught that they weren't equal; he didn't have the right. He was taken aback when the man, Lucien, offered his hand. Rhone stared at it. His own hands were dirty and calloused. No other master before would have let him touch them with such filth. But to openly defy the man by refusing the gesture was asking for a beating.
Rhone slowly reached out and took the man's hand, only for a second, and them quickly returned his own by his side. "Rhone," He said simply, his voice lightly accented. He hadn't spoken his native tongue in a long time, but there was still a light trace of it when he talked. Occasionally, he would meet another Sudalian slave to converse with, but it was rare. Most of the time, they were beaten for speaking in any other language than English.
This man, however, seemed nice enough. He insisted that the shackles be removed from Rhone, freeing his wrists and ankles from the rusted metal. He gingerly rubbed his wrists once the weight had been removed from them, cautiously reminding himself not to let a small act of kindness win him over. It wasn't a new trick. A master would act kind to him at first, try to win his trust, but when they lost their patience with him, they were like all the rest.
Rhone kept his eyes downward as the man introduced himself, trained to never look his master in the eye. He was taught that they weren't equal; he didn't have the right. He was taken aback when the man, Lucien, offered his hand. Rhone stared at it. His own hands were dirty and calloused. No other master before would have let him touch them with such filth. But to openly defy the man by refusing the gesture was asking for a beating.
Rhone slowly reached out and took the man's hand, only for a second, and them quickly returned his own by his side. "Rhone," He said simply, his voice lightly accented. He hadn't spoken his native tongue in a long time, but there was still a light trace of it when he talked. Occasionally, he would meet another Sudalian slave to converse with, but it was rare. Most of the time, they were beaten for speaking in any other language than English.
Rhone shifted on his feet as the bidding began. He'd done this several times; it was nothing new to have a price put on his life. Sometimes that price was depressingly low. When Rhone was young, he was lucky to sell for 10 pieces, and once he had been given away as a mere gift. The bidding began slow and hesitant. He could practically feel the crowd staring at him, judging every inch of him. He could feel eyes wandering over his bruises, wondering what he did to deserve them.
After a few of the bidders dropped out, two remained. From where he stood, Rhone could see an very short female and a tall aristocrat with his daughter. Neither of the two appeared to be the type to want a dirty field slave. The prices they drove were almost ridiculous. Rhone wondered why they kept going up. It almost gave him a bad feeling in his gut. A mere field slave was worth nowhere near what these two parties were willing to pay, so what did they want him for?
The bidding finally maxed out, with the aristocrat and his daughter winning. Rhone briefly looked up from the ground to give his new owner a curious glance. The auctioneer was beaming with joy at the ridiculous price for which he had been sold as he shook the new master's hand and unchained Rhone to hand him over. The shackles remained around his wrists and ankles, in case he tried to run.
After a few of the bidders dropped out, two remained. From where he stood, Rhone could see an very short female and a tall aristocrat with his daughter. Neither of the two appeared to be the type to want a dirty field slave. The prices they drove were almost ridiculous. Rhone wondered why they kept going up. It almost gave him a bad feeling in his gut. A mere field slave was worth nowhere near what these two parties were willing to pay, so what did they want him for?
The bidding finally maxed out, with the aristocrat and his daughter winning. Rhone briefly looked up from the ground to give his new owner a curious glance. The auctioneer was beaming with joy at the ridiculous price for which he had been sold as he shook the new master's hand and unchained Rhone to hand him over. The shackles remained around his wrists and ankles, in case he tried to run.
Sasha gulped down the water offered to him quickly. His mouth was dry like sand, and one glass of water did almost nothing to help. He licked his dry lips, considering whether or not to talk to the woman before his demands were met. In the end, he decided that he should probably tell them now before something or someone came in here and offed him.
"There's another group of people a few miles out from here, settled in the city. They're led by a man who calls himself 'The Leader'; a crazy son of a bitch. He wants to come and take this place over for himself. He sent those two brats out to scout the place. Knew that if he sent kids, you'd let them in. Probably told them that he'd kill them if they didn't do, because that's the kind of guy he is. Tried to kill me when I decided to come warn you."
(short post. feel like shit. will post again tomorrow)
"There's another group of people a few miles out from here, settled in the city. They're led by a man who calls himself 'The Leader'; a crazy son of a bitch. He wants to come and take this place over for himself. He sent those two brats out to scout the place. Knew that if he sent kids, you'd let them in. Probably told them that he'd kill them if they didn't do, because that's the kind of guy he is. Tried to kill me when I decided to come warn you."
(short post. feel like shit. will post again tomorrow)
may have fucked up the time in my post
may be too lazy to fix it
may be too lazy to fix it
The town center was bustling with traffic. People going to market, children running around and playing, horse hooves falling on cobblestone, and a slave trader running an auction off to the side. The auction had gathered a crowd, some just curious, and some coming to buy. The slaves were stood behind the auctioneer, shackled and chained in their rags, waiting to be shipped off to a new master. It was an unfortunate life that they lived, but almost no one gave them any pity.
Rhone was among the men in chains, his bare feet hurting as he stood on the rocky ground. The chains around his wrists and ankles were heavy and rusted, chaffing his skin. The sun beat down on his bare shoulders, tan and dirty from his days outside. When was the last time he'd had a bath? He couldn't even remember. His feet were filthy, his hair sweaty under his head wrap. Slaves weren't particularly known for their hygiene, not that he could help it.
The man watched as an interested buyer came up to the slave beside him, looking him up and down and checking his teeth as if the man were a horse. Rhone gave the buyer a pointed sneer. The buyer looked over to him with a raised eyebrow, and then Rhone felt the slave trader behind him grab the back of his neck and force his head back down to look at the dirt. He wasn't allowed to make eye contact with people of higher status, much less scowl at them.
The buyer decided to purchase the slave and went on his way. Rhone was up next. The auctioneer began spouting his estimated weight, skills, age, and health. He was a good field worker, was handy around the house, was in good health and fairly young. His face and body showed clear signs of his last beating, bruises on his dark skin and one eye blackened. A beaten slave was a clear deterrent, usually because owners didn't beat their workers without reason.
When the auctioneer asked for bids, a couple hands went up. Rhone didn't pay attention to the interested buyer. He was sure that, no matter who bought him, he was dislike them regardless.
Rhone was among the men in chains, his bare feet hurting as he stood on the rocky ground. The chains around his wrists and ankles were heavy and rusted, chaffing his skin. The sun beat down on his bare shoulders, tan and dirty from his days outside. When was the last time he'd had a bath? He couldn't even remember. His feet were filthy, his hair sweaty under his head wrap. Slaves weren't particularly known for their hygiene, not that he could help it.
The man watched as an interested buyer came up to the slave beside him, looking him up and down and checking his teeth as if the man were a horse. Rhone gave the buyer a pointed sneer. The buyer looked over to him with a raised eyebrow, and then Rhone felt the slave trader behind him grab the back of his neck and force his head back down to look at the dirt. He wasn't allowed to make eye contact with people of higher status, much less scowl at them.
The buyer decided to purchase the slave and went on his way. Rhone was up next. The auctioneer began spouting his estimated weight, skills, age, and health. He was a good field worker, was handy around the house, was in good health and fairly young. His face and body showed clear signs of his last beating, bruises on his dark skin and one eye blackened. A beaten slave was a clear deterrent, usually because owners didn't beat their workers without reason.
When the auctioneer asked for bids, a couple hands went up. Rhone didn't pay attention to the interested buyer. He was sure that, no matter who bought him, he was dislike them regardless.
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