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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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 Posted: Fri Jun 28, 2013 6:20 am
 The Rare Slave Quarters
Upon leaving the front lobby with the bellboy as a guide, you will be taken over to a pair of doors to your left. The doors have signs above them stating where they go, the first door showing it leads to the ground floor and up to the third floor only, the next door saying it leads to the fourth floor up to the sixth. Depending on where the slave or slaves of your choice reside, you will be lead down either door only to be greeted by a guard waiting to take you to the first room on your list - if you have a list that is.
You are allowed to sit in the luxury rooms with the slave and talk, get to know them and see if they are right for you. You are not allowed to be intimate in these rooms, and under no circumstance must you let a slave out on it's own. A slave must only leave the room if it being purchased by you, or if a guard is escorting it to the basement rooms to be held in isolation for bad behaviour.
Contents of the Upper West Block:
- All creatures of myth that are very hard to find and tend to hide from society. (note: if we deem your character unfit to be in this thread, we will ask you to re-post it in the proper area)
- Naiads, Nymphs, Driads
- Unicorns, Centaurs, Minotaurs
- Elemental Spirits
- Homunculus
- Phoenixes
- Nagas
- Gryphons, Manticores
- Sphinx
- Dragons
- more may be added here -
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Posted: Wed Jul 17, 2013 7:42 am
Before when she was in her sisterhood with the other dryads, the meaning of light as something different, something mysterious but englightening, it meant an opportunity to grow and to learn, to feel beauty of the earth that they share, too appreciate the daylight and moonlight alike, to guide them in the dark and make them feel safe. Later, they discovered another meaning of light and it is a spiteful one. This light also means something mysterious and something that does not last forever. It's probably the most beautiful type of all because they don't know what it means and its fickle and clever; they lured her as well as her sisters to the source; which resulted in a big fire that nearly killed them. They tried to escape but only found themselves in large nets. The rest went black as their cries of despair drowned.
This is where she is. She was fairly lucky. Even though she has been beaten and whipped occassionally, she learned to obey and be submissive. But they haven't completely changed her attitude. She was still promising business; a rarity they called her. She had a name, Ariadne; like the princess from Greece who was seduced by the wine god. But she was either a number or 'the dryad', one of the rarities. She kept mute. She learned not to ask the whereabouts of her sisters. She learned that she can only hear or feel their despair and cry silently, not a sound, tears must be collected in a small flask and hidden somewhere as a souvenir.
There was another sort of punishment, one where she was forced to just lie down or pace around or aimlessly stair outside the window, feel the little bit of sunlight, the only source of her comfort. But she cannot leave the room. The guards would take her to that horrid room, the room that gave her so many nightmares. Still she managed to stay alive and intact. Perhaps she was only 'allowed' to remain in this condition. She overheard the hunters, caretakers, whoever, they are, she never knew, but then again, they do not keep their 'economic reasons' a secret. She know sthat she will fetch a good price. A virgin with the number of talents on her collar and more. It was strange living like this.
Very few times she would get people to visit her just to get to know her. She never saw them again; she was very bland. But she felt that she could not keep that up anymore. She has to be sold someday. It might be her freedom. Will her master be human? She sort of hoped. Humans die easily. But she will not kill them. She will wait for them to expire and then she can go. But then again, humans are clever with paperwork and she can be inherited like an heirloom. Will her master be one of those winged creatures like devils or angels or nephilims? Will they be a werewolf? Or a vampire? Will they be terrible demons? That would be tricky. But then again, they will outlive her, even if she stays quiet.
The times that she did get visiters, rare as they were, weren't so bad. She was relieved and felt extremely lucky that intimacy was not allowed her. Dryads, nymphs and naiads and nereids, they all look down on immediate intimacy. They are slow to feel it and hard to arouse. Their initial feeling is disgust, perhaps even something called 'instinctive phobia'. Ariadne was very proud to have something like that. It made her feel clever, it made her focus on other things. Intimacy is just so.... embarrassing. Its probably disgraceful even! In any case, she hopes that her future master will be one that is fascinated with a world that is outside the bed. A library is nice. And then there are natural landscapes. Maybe a nice big garden. She never liked the idea of living in the city but if she must... it's not as if she has any choice either.
But the fact that she hopes for these meager things keep her going. Today she isn't punished. This week she has been good. This year she has been good and they were generous enough to supply her books. The books are thoroughly checked for any sign of magic material so that the slave cannot escape. Unfortunately, there is no musical instruments... which she would have liked. But she is stuck with books and that is fine with her. Reading books is the only place where she can at least set her mind free from the chains of the prison, even if its only temporary while her body remains locked in a pretty white room.
Quote: "Speech" is in "#604039".'Thoughts' is in '293500'.
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Posted: Mon Jul 22, 2013 9:53 am
xxxComposing herself, Jo stood. An ash blonde with golden-hazel eyes, hourglass figure, and impeccable features, she wore a satin robe tailored to show off her figure, the scarlet fabric embroidered with ornate designs of copper and gold. Soft fingers trailed the metal workings of her collar, the swirls of filigree and a single ruby encrusted just above her breasts. As she studied the alloy brace in a floor to ceiling mirror, small trinkets and orbs whirled to life behind of her. All of them were extravagant gifts from her father, most likely due to a guilty conscience. Books stacked and scattered about, pamphlets, folds of fabric here and there, and miniature chests filled with different jewelry. While the room was large, a grand circular bed lay at the center, commanding domination of the space. Several throw pillows strewn across the silky sea of sheets, and above them were various alignments of hooks and chains. Jo turned, her chain clinking against the marble floors as she headed for the sealed double doors. Just before reaching them, mere inches even, the collar began to pinch. Metal prongs biting into her velvet flesh, if she pressed any further they would draw blood again. This wasn't the first time in trying.
xxxxxWithout hesitation Jo grabbed up a large, hardcover book and flung it straight at the doors. It quickly slammed against the wood-panel and dropped to the floor. It was a pitiful attempt, she knew it wouldn't work. An exasperated sigh admitted defeat. Soon a uniformed attendant would bring her afternoon meal, he was Jo's only visitor, and he made zero conversation. Occasionally he brought small packages wrapped in pretty paper bows, or expensive gowns for her to dress up in, but whatever it was, it would occupy her for a short time.
xxxxxJohana continued to snoop around her alcove, adjusting her eyes to the bright sunshine that passed through a skylight. She peered again at the mirror, "If you surrender, you have already lost. If you refuse to give up, though, no matter the odds against you, at least you have succeeded in trying." Finally, she heard the approaching footsteps of the bell boy and his confounded clinking of the fine china. She grew tense, pondering if a suitor accompanied him. The doors unlocked, swinging open as she held her composure. He was alone, tray in hand. He did not smile, or nod, a blank slate for a face. Carefully he sat her lunch down on the vanities ottoman. Swiftly, he backed out of the room, making no eye contact. Boredom seemed to linger in the air, the young woman collapsed onto the bed, her head turning to study the silver dome and platter.
xxxxxFreedom is an elusive concept. Some men hold themselves prisoner even when they have the power to do as they please and go where they choose, while others are free in their hearts, even as shackles restrain them.
xxxxxHer slitted eyes closed, she lay motionless, but careful not to fall asleep. Each inhale ached like a fire of broken glass, for the most part she looked content but it was an illusion. Beneath the layer of fair skin flowed ancient red-hot flames waiting for a moment of weakness.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 7:10 am
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxYou’re not the only one with a gun for a mouth. "Yeah man, I think I found the place."
A young man stands before the grand hotel. He is dressed casually, tailored black slacks and a button-up tunic, the first few buttons left undone to expose a bit of his chest. Two grungy necklaces hang around his neck and a single earring dangles from his left ear. He looked like a good lad. Perhaps a bit stubborn and bull-headed at times.
"Dude! Shut up! You want me to punch you in the face when I leave here?...I didn't think so. You already know that it is my money, I will do whatever in the hell I want with it. What?! No, you are a shithead!"
Onlookers watched him yelling and carrying on into his cellphone, his wrapped fingers nervously combing tufts of jet locks. Huey was grinning, waving at them as they stared. A few of them gave him judgmental looks, to which, he gave them the finger. Who were they to judge? Bastards were probably sick prevents trying to get with little girls. Or fluffy- lace pansies here because their wife ain't given' them the goods. Freakin' Sickos.
"No, No, John. WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY?! I'M HANGIN' UP! NO, BYE!"
If it wasn't for the fact that most iphones cost more than a car payment, he would have tossed the contraption at the sidewalk and left it there for someone else to clean up. This place looked rich enough that they probably had street-sweepers and what not. Whatever the case, he headed into the revolving doors, going around twice for safe measure. His Doc Martins squeaked and scuffed up the shiny, waxed, marble flooring of the lobby. Not that he noticed or paid any mind as he strolled up the desk. A young red head was behind the counter, freckles covered her upper cheeks and button nose. She wasn't too bad. She couldn't handle this tom cat in the sack, you could tell by her blushing cheeks as he smiled at her.
"Can I help you sir?"
"Uh, yes Ma'am," Huey flashed her a cheesy grin while leaning in to give her a closer look. "I'm suppose to sign in? Somethin' along those lines...I'm not quite sure. It should be under Mister Guess, don't worry. Take your time Miss. I got all the time in the world for you." His eyebrow arched up.
"I, uh, just a minute. I have to check the system." Fingers fluttered over the keyboard until she found his reservation. "Hugh Guess-"
"Huey, Babe. Just Huey."
"Yes, please follow Phillip. He will take you to the correct room."
"Gotcha. See ya later."
Huey nodded towards the bell boy, being sure that he was the right one since many were guiding guests around. Silently he followed, gazing at the fine artwork covering the walls. Crystal vases neatly placed every so often. The place was definitely ritzy. Big time, upper class. Some of these people didn't look like they worked a day in their lives. Probably wall street and politicians. Or rich brats spending their daddy's money. Usually the latter.
"Here you are, Sir," Phili-boy began to unlcok the door. They sure kept their bitches in line. He hoped she wasn't crazy or one of those bondage slave types. They were just too weird for him. He wanted a down to earth kinda girl, the take home to Mum type. Hopefully she looked cute! Casually he tried to look cool, his turquoise eyes, lazily slitted for a sultry survey. Sweaty palms were quickly tucked into his pockets as the door swung open. A sweet, summer breeze of lavender and rosemary filled his nostrils. It was overbearing but not bad. At least she won't smell bad! "Thanks man! Uh, here ya go. Don't spend it too quick," as the bell boy stood there, Huey handed the man a crinkly twenty dollar bill. Phillip did not look amused but took the tip none the less. Huey then took a step inside, "Oh, wow you are cute. A little young looking though. Uh, sorry. I'm Mister Guess, you can call me Huey though." Awkwardly he stood before her, waiting for permission to fully enter. "I, uh, wasn't told your name...I guess it is part of the mystique or whatever." s**t. Stop rambling.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 7:18 am
He missed the sea. He missed the ocean, the icy salt waters of the deep Atlantic, the glaciers of the northern Arctic he had swum to once because no one lived there. The Arctic was beautiful. This place wasn't beautiful. This place was terrifying, lonely. He decided that the bathtub was getting warm and pulled out the drain plug, watched the water swirl away. Water didn't do that in his home. Water moved, spoke. It sang stories of times past, whispered hints of the future. It didn't drip away, it wasn't still and silent and dead like this water. He turned the tap on as cold as he could and curled up in the center of the ablution trap. It didn't smell right, taste right.
He knew feeding time was soon. He wasn't hungry. He'd stopped eating three days ago. He wanted the ocean back. He wanted to swim. He would even interact with his own kind if it meant a chance to escape. He would learn to speak, so shout, to scream to the gods in prayer. It didn't matter that he didn't believe. He wanted to go home. He would do anything for a proper chance to go home. A quiet sob escaped the boy. He pulled his knees tight to his chest. He had sworn he wouldn't cry. Look how well that turned out. At least they didn't force him to keep his curtains opened. He liked the darkness. It reminded him of home.
He shut off the tap, sinking into the freezing water and submerging his head. It was just big enough. Small bubbles rose to the surface as he inhaled, exhaled, inhaled. He wondered what it felt like to drown. He couldn't imagine it. He knew he wasn't allowed to stay in the bathtub and sulk like this. There was a more-than-likely chance that he would be punished for it. He didn't care. He would stay in that place where there was no curtains, where the bright lights threatened to blind him and burn his skin from his body. He would gladly stay in there. He would happily stare into the burning glare of the sun until his retinas were seared and all that remained was darkness. He liked the darkness.
That room couldn't hurt him anymore. It just made him 'violent,' whatever that meant. The human language was so similar to his own, but so different. There was no beauty to it, just harsh noises tearing through the air. No, the water was a better place for it. The water enhanced. The water made beauty out of a dead man's tongue. He wanted the ocean back.
The boy's name was Andara. Andara wanted to die.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 10:32 am
She gulped and balled her hands into a fist as she looked at the box which contained her attire.
She waited patiently as she finished off the last white decorations in her hair and sat like a doll on the love couch. Tea pots and cups have already been brought into the room. Her eyes glided in some level of boredom to the man who finally arrived. She resisted the urge to quirk a brow and decided that she can let her silly little pride slide for now. The last two times she only 'misbehaved' because those men were repulsive and it did not matter if they were filthy rich. This one, however, was somewhat decent. She wondered if he is one of those crass types that are sons of rich bastards using their daddy's money. She stood up and gave one of her mildest smiles and said, "Thank you for your compliments... Huey. I am, however, cursed with a body that doesn't age. It seems to have stopped three years ago," she said wryly.
She has no intentions of being the 'goody-two-shoes' who will mewl pathetically at any man in front of him as is evident when one can feel a pinch of acidic bitterness and sarcasm when she talks, just a pinch. But she has been polite nevertheless. This man however, isn't exactly like one of the visitors. "My name is Ariadna. Would you like to sit next to me and have some tea, Huey?" she asked beckoning to the love couch. Normally she didn't have to ask this because the other visitors already order her about, never needed an invitiation on the couch.
She hopes that this man remembers the rule about no intimacy in the chambers as she gets ready with the tea pot to poor some for him. "We also have a ninety year old scotch coming soon." she explained. 'Who is this guy? He lets him call him Huey. He is not wearing designer clothes from Prada, Gucci, or Issey. The way he talks isn't, say, aristocratic... ah, but he's a boxer in the cages. A celebrity master. Sort of scandalous.' she thought while regarding him a bit.
Quote: "Speech" is in "#604039".'Thoughts' is in '293500'.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 11:14 am
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxYou’re not the only one with a gun for a mouth. "Well, ain't that some s**t? I bet finding clothes must be a pain." Not that him finding clothes was any easier. He only had three outfits in his small closet. The rest were all his shorts and gloves. "Ariadna. Sounds like the name of a flower. Oh! HA! Nah, I can't stand tea but uh, I will just pull up a seat." He may not be one of those snotty-nosed pretty boys but he did have manners. Plus, he'd rather be able to look at her without using sideways glances.
"You look kinda like a doll. Do you like that sort of stuff?I mean, they didn't tell me really anything about you besides no kissing or touching. As if I would kiss you. I mean, ...yeah." Shut up, SHUTUPDIPSHIT. Carefully he sat a stack of books on to the floor and pulled up a velvet pouf chair with carved designs along its back. "Are they gonna bring some food? Goddamn I hope so! I'm hungry and their piddly cheese and crackers ain't gonna cut it. You hungry? I can make the shithead outside the door get something..." Huey cocked a wide grin, "Pardon my french."
"Maybe we can go out even. If..you know. You don't mind? I mean, unless you are allergic to the sun or spontaneously combust." He looked around her room, making light conversation. It was hard to imagine someone living in one single room for their whole life. It was almost damn near depressing. His attention turned back to the young woman before him, the calm seas meeting grassy summer fields. She is like a flower, stuck in a shitty pot sitting in a stupid shop. From her eyes the subtle onlooking ventured to the brown tresses that framed her oval face, and as her lips moved, forming words, they thinned then puckered. The nervous placement of her porcelain hands. It was part of his genetic coding to study an opponent, it was how you could catch them off guard and take them down. Not that he wanted to throw her down. Good lord, what kind of man would I be? Unless she liked that kind of play? Nahhhh. No way. She is completely different.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 12:05 pm
She was deep in thought as she kept a bit of eye contact with him. 'Why would someone like him be here in the first place? He doesn't even speak like other aristocrats. He certainly seems more humble and less spoiled than the others. Doesn't want to exercise too much power... But not exactly afraid of power either.' In the end she couldn't contain her thoughts to herself. She softly muttered, "Why would someone like you want to buy someone like me? I... I mean. We slaves, we cannot go out unless we are purchased and accompanied by our new masters. Therefore I have no say in the matter. It is up to you. As for my welfare in the sun, no I don't combust. I sometimes feed off of sunlight to keep my wellbeing stable. I'm a dryad. Have they not told you?"
She considered him again and she sighed, she could really use some tea. When she caught her emeralds for eyes meet too deeply for his turquoise eyes she looked away and asked quietly, "Sorry, um. You can ask them for lunch when the man who will bring you the scotch arrives... Would you mind... Huey, if I ask you something?" There has been something nagging her about him and she has to satisfy his curiosity. She needs to do a little background check and there is so much difference between him and what she expected. "You see you aren't what I had expected like all the other masters that had hoped to buy me. They look at me as if I am a privilege to have. A prestige. This place is very different. Is this the first time you have been to Hotel des Esclaves? French. Literally translates to what it is: Hotel of Slaves".
She gave a small chuckle when he said he wouldn't kiss her but then dismissed himself in case he was being rude.
She swallowed a bit wondering if she has already asked too many questions. "Well it's just that... the others they are not exactly... you. I mean, you let me call you buy your nickname. I can tell Huey's not your full name. And you don't expect me to call you Master. That would earn me a punishment or a warning. You let me ask you questions and talk a bit. And... your speech is more direct than the others."
She interrupted herself when she saw the door open and the waitor, Phillip came with some Scotch. "Ninety year old Scotch and our finest. Courtesy of Hotel des Esclaves, sir." he said in monotone.
Quote: "Speech" is in "#604039".'Thoughts' is in '293500'.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 1:34 pm
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxYou’re not the only one with a gun for a mouth. She maneuvered herself, exposing the collar and explaining how she ended up with a second one instead of the delicate lace. "Lace is for pansies. You gotta be tough and not let them break ya." He knew that she had a velvet collar, it was one of the few details they explained to him. He accepted it, it made her more...tangible? Some part of her still held defiance. Ariadna is a fighter.
He grew serious, his face drawn as he contemplated questions. "You are not a doll. You shouldn't be here. I can't say I was pleased with the idea but my publicist suggested it," a storm was brewing behind the tranquil seas. "I have lost just about everything I have loved. Life is fleeting, Ariadna. It scares me shitless but I fight through it." I'm going to buy your freedom. "I tell ya, I'm not a knight in shining armor and you probably deserve some half cocked piece of...." Huey rose from the seat, pacing behind it. "I will tell you this. I can only afford high interest payments on you. I can eventually buy you. I don't want to make your decisions for you! For Christ sakes! You need the sun and they keep you locked away from it.. Yes, yes, I see the window. That ain't a window! It is a hole in the wall that ain't even fit for a woodpecker."
I mean, you let me call you by your nickname.
Hugh was his father's name. Huey wasn't a painful reminder that he was gone.
"If anyone gives you grief because you call me Huey, you tell me. You can call me whatever you damn well please..." By then Peebrain Phil sashayed in. A pleasing grin on his ugly face as he announced the scotch like it was a blue-ribbon winning horse. "Ah well thanks old chap. Be a dear and fetch me and the little lady some grub. She looks ravished and I tell you this, I can't have her floating away on a Dorito."
Grimacing, Phillip sat the tray of ninety year old- who keeps a bottle of liquor unopened for ninety years? He promptly about-faced, almost marching out the door. I swear if he spits in the food, he is gonna get a ninety year old scotch enema. Huey turned back to her, "You do whatever you want." It was a genuine smile, soft, and childlike. "Now, what is the dryad? I swear they said druid. I half expected some banshee-haired crazy lady. You must be powerful." He crossed his arms, studying her as she continued.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 2:31 pm
Like she predicted he brewed up a speech about how she deserves better. She listened to what he said but the words went from one ear and left through another. Her eyes went slightly hallow, or at least she had a flicker of hope but it quickly died down, showing only a little regret and sadness through them. But she decided to bring her humor up and said, "Are you sure a man like you with such morals should come here? People who come here, well, there are many reasons why people come here and buy slaves. Some want power. Some want company. Some do simply because they can... you. If you are looking for a courtesan rather than a slave, which I have no complaints, but this is Hotel des Esclaves."
She let out a small bitter laugh and said, "This is where all broken dolls come or all dolls come here to be broken by others. But if you tell me that I should keep my spirits up then for you I will." she said, willingly but she still doubted that he has the capability to buy her off the market. Its a romantic thought. When the waitor came, she smirked inwardly when he gave her orders. After he left, she scooted closer and whispered, "Its... famished. Not ravished."
Seeing the waitor go she said, "If anyone gives me grief there is no one I can really call. But I'll think of you, Huey. You are different from the others. I don't think I have recieved this much of kindness in a long time." she said.
"A dryad is a nymph. But we are dryads because we live in forests and mountains and springs and fountains. We are mortal goddesses because our ancestors were a mix of immortals and humans. That's why we stop aging at a certain age. Yes, I have powers. My element is earth but again, my collar. Otherwise, I would have freed myself a long time ago. I was born in a sisterhood you know. Well they are not sisters but they are to me by spiritual bonding. Now sometimes, I get nightmares of what has happened to them. I don't know if they are in the same building as me or if they are taken some place else. Normally the later is the case. I do miss them..." she thought to herself miserably. "Life was about purity then."
Quote: "Speech" is in "#604039".'Thoughts' is in '293500'.
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 3:18 pm
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxYou’re not the only one with a gun for a mouth. "Most likely intentional. I have that strange ability to piss off people. I never understood why," he jests.
He noticed the subtle change in her expression, a far off stare but said nothing of it. "Look, I don't care if this is Hotel des Eatshit. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for! I'm still trying to figure things out myself and you obviously know more than me, Miss Famished. Smarty pants over here."
Huey scowled, ruffling the tufts of hair that were already in disarray in slight frustration and humour.
"You could call me. Do they not allow you a phone call? ...No, of course not." He drifted off, lost in thought. Kindness. "I suppose if I buy you, I become just like the filthy pigs that put you here in the first place. It is a sick game of men trying to play God; however, I have plans. My publicist suggested this," his hands gesturing to her. "Like some charity case to sweep you off your feet. I have to continuously work to win, just to cover each payment and maintain my other priorities. You know how many punches that is? A hellvalot. So let's make this worth it." No one ever said he was a dreamer. He never backed down and this wasn't the time to start.
"You were all family and they were ripped away in a blink of an eye," he understood the pain of that. That instance forever shaking the very foundation that one builds upon. "They may be alive, though. At least you have that hope." Huey sat down again, "Sometimes hope is all that you need..." She looked miserable! "I think for our next date we should go to the Archer's garden. That is if you want to? I'm sure they will have guards but at least you can get out for awhile." You are putting too much on the line. If she escaped they'd think he planned it. Most likely he'd die unexpectedly. Probably some car crash. They'd find her and this would look like a Macy's parade compared to what they'd do to her. Huey locked his features to not show even the slightest concern. Soon good old Philly came waltzing in. "Famished smamished." He chuckled, shaking his head.
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Posted: Wed Jul 24, 2013 9:01 am
"Archer's Garden?" she quirked her brows slightly in a bit of a surprise. "Certainly. I don't remember the last time I had the opportunity to step on open face and have some fresh air than the air trapped in between these walls," she murmured as she looked around her room for a while. It was beautiful, white and luxurious with crystalline chandeliers. But she never appreciated this kind of life. "You will have to ask my masters for that," she stated finally.
She hoped that what she had said there doesn't sound too shameless when coming from her. "Is your publicist by any chance not trying to make you win me for him? Because if that's the case, then I'm a present and I should be wrapped head to toe," she commented dryly. "I have been told that you are a fighter. How interesting. I have seen military men, rich aristocrats and their sons, posh businessmen and but you would be my first guest that goes in the celebrity category... Say are all fighters like you? Can they hold a nice conversation like you can?" she asked.
The waitor, Phillip, finally arrived with a large tray holding up two different dishes. One for the guest and the other for the slave girl in the room. He gently placed the try on the table and said, "Croque Monsieur with some fries and salad, a French cuisine, sir. And a lovely Ceasar salad for the lady." he said primly before he left but just as he stood outside the door he said, "If you need anything else, feel free to summon me, sir."
With that he left.
"Ah, before you start complaining about why I have only salad, I have to let you know that I am vegeterian. You know, dryads. Nature sprites. Tree huggers, us lot. We don't eat meat or fish. We live on fruits and vegetables and sometimes flowers. We also don't eat as often as humans do." she explained gently.
Quote: "Speech" is in "#604039".'Thoughts' is in '293500'.
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Posted: Wed Jul 24, 2013 5:42 pm
 ██████████████████████████████████████████████
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNothing is good enough.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxSangki
██████████████████████████████████████████████ INDENT Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
INDENT Just pretend it is the sound of a bug. Just pretend that everything else in the world has died except for that one bug.
INDENT Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
INDENT Just pretend it is that one bug, in a void of nothingness, forever in vain calling out for a partner.
INDENT Tick. Tick. Tick.
INDENT Admire its tenacity.
INDENT Tick.
INDENT Tick.
INDENT Tick.
INDENT Tick.
INDENT With the silence of a perfect killer, the nearest object was hurled across the room at that wretched contraption. One of those stupid white (everything was white or ivory and unnatural) pronged things, used to hold candles, was the unfortunate object that had been flung into the clock hanging on the opposite wall. The glass shattered and the clock's face dented, squishing important cogs and gears and finally halting that grating, unnatural clicking.
INDENT It was the first clock he had broken, but the third object overall. The first and second to be destroyed was the vase of fake flowers. What an abominable mockery of the natural world! The vase had been smashed against the clear panels in the walls that teased him with the sight of the world outside without letting him experience it. Once the vase had shattered and the wall remained intact , the abhorred synthetic flowers were then ripped up. Only halfway through the dozen or so did a guard come in and try to intervene. The guard was yelling something in their tongue, and soon another guard joined. There was a skirmish between slave and staff that ended with the slave being dragged away by a posse of guards to some dark room underground. It was a week later when the slave was finally brought back to the white room. The vase of fake flowers had been replaced. Before the door was shut the guard left some parting words:
INDENT "Be a good slave, Sangki."
INDENT And yet again, the once-proud leader of the Huang tribe, Sangki, was left alone in the unnatural white landscape of human design. No more than an hour later the guards once again were called in to the room to wrestle the "defiant man," immobilize him, and carry him off for another week of the underground chamber and the strange things the humans did with him.
INDENT Week three of being in the hotel ended with him being once again brought up to the white room. This time, there was no vase nor fake flowers. He had managed to endure that horrible clicking machine for almost half the time of the day's sunlight but eventually had no choice but to stop its sound. He was going to go crazy - crazier, that is - if he had to listen to it any more. It was worse than listening to silence. At least in silence he could think of how he could possibly escape without the use of his powers. He didn't have long to enjoy the silence; a posse of guards flooded into the entrance of the room, ready for another fight. They looked at him, sitting in front of the window benignly, and they looked at the broken thing. They must have deemed that it was not worth the commotion or perhaps it wasn't as big of a deal as the fake flowers because after some chattering in their barbaric language, all but a few left. The machine was removed from the wall and all its fragments were collected. They left him alone once again, trapped in the room of white.
INDENT Sangki gazed through the transparent part of the wall. He looked at the trees, so different from the ones of his home. He looked at the grass. He looked at the soil. He looked at the flowers. He looked at the sky. He looked anywhere except this suffocating white prison he was forced to exist in, devoid of anything he could call familiar and he had no idea why. They had not fed him and the liquids they presented him with looked and smelled strange. He neither ate nor drank anything. He did not sleep. He did not talk. He did not give them anything other than defiance at every opportunity - though he made a point of never initiating an attack or fight with a human. They were aggressive enough to start it first. He could tell when they were going to start getting aggressive - they usually raised their voices to him, using words he did not understand.
INDENT Why were the humans keeping him there, all alone? Is this what happened to the few others of his kind that had gone missing? Where had the three others he had been fighting with gone to? Were they suffering a similar fate in some other white room? Was this the humans' retribution for their attacks on the human settlements? It wasn't as if anyone could give him answers; at least the humans that lived on the outskirts of his homelands spoke a language that he could vaguely understand. The language that these humans spoke was entirely different. Even if they could communicate and explain to him what they wanted from him, he doubted they would even bother. They probably thought it was entertaining to try to make him struggle and suffer and succumb to whatever the purpose of all this was.
INDENT They were all truly insufferable inferior beings.
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Posted: Thu Jul 25, 2013 8:16 am
 ⊱⊱ D ▸ A R E I O S ⋮ The Reformed Slave
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ Stepping out the taxi that had taken the white-haired man and his African daughter from the train station to the beachside Hotel, the tall man blinked up at the beautiful building. An excited sound that was a mix between a child's squeal and a happy noise from a large cat, the man looked down to the child tugging on his hand. "Opskud pa~" She practically demanded in Afrikaans, a large grin on her face. "Hurry up dad!" Thankful that in the end he didn't have to attempt to guess what she was saying - the man still hadn't grasped the little girl's native tongue - he gave a wary kind of smile and allowed the dark-skinned girl to drag him inside. It had been a long time since Dareios had been to a place like this, and it still didn't bring back nice thoughts. Dareios was a reformed slave, a man that had earned his freedom and thankfully bore no scars from his years in servitude. Snorting through his nose and shaking his head, the little girl turned around and promptly laughed. "Nee! No horse noises pa. You don't need to be scared." Now 'nee' was a word that Dareios had learned pretty early on, and it's what lead him to discover what language the girl actually spoke. It meant 'no' and it was one of the few words that were firmly stuck in his mind. His current goal was to learn to speak Afrikaans better, and so far all he'd really learned was that it was a Dutch-based language that was mainly spoken in South Africa and Nambia these days. Allowing himself to trail off down this thought path was a good distraction for the moment, as the hotel suddenly didn't seen so scary to the somewhat skittish Unicorn.
The lady at the front desk was rather kind and incredibly cute with her button nose dusted with freckles, and even though he filled out the form in what he was sure was rather quick, she didn't seem to judge him as she processed it quickly. Laying out a few files, the man just stared. Sensing his trepidation, the redhead took the files and with a few quick scribbles on a number of small pieces of paper, the click of a stapler sounded and with a smile the man was handed the small booklet. It contained the names, room numbers and the smallest dot points about the slaves they matched to him. Flicking through the booklet, the male sighed slowly, trying to keep it from sounding like a horsey snort. This was quite a huge leap for the male, but like he'd told most of his patients "you have to start somewhere". 'You can do this. It's just like exposure therapy. If you can get just one out of here and show them there's a life past this one, that old lady didn't die in vain.' Making sure that Ikinya was by his side and not trying to catch koi fish in the pond, he took up her hand in his and followed the bell boy th the first wing they were going to. The list was entirely of the females that ranged from plain old human to a few rather gentle rare beings. The main factor was how comfortable he felt around them, and how comfortable they felt around Ikinya. She wasn't exactly a calm child, the spirit being inside her quite active and energetic, so he really needed someone that could handle both sides. Following the guard to the first room, this was really happening.
A couple of hours later and Dareios was feeling like a nervous wreck. This was just wrong, how could he justify being here when he was once one of these people? Stepping out of the room of the last lady on the list, he rubbed his face and let out a defeated groan. None of these ladies meshed well with his energetic little furball, and hearing her growl as they left the room just cemented that fact. "Come on baby, this was a bad idea, we should head home..." Running his fingers through his hair and forcing them through a knot in the ends, he waited for a reply from Ikinya, but got nothing. Looking at the tuft of black hair, he stared at her for a moment. "Kitten? What's up?" Watching the girl look around and take a deep breath in, Dareios shut his mouth. Something was going on, and he wanted to see it play out; he wanted to see if his darling Spirit Guide daughter was going to save the day. "Don't fret pa, we're not meant to leave yet." Shutting her eyes and lifting her hands to the sky, her golden jewellery, the girl made a chirping sound like a young cat discovering something amazing. "Trust me pa, we're meant to be here!" With a happy and slightly excited roar - well, something that barely classified as a roar - the girl took off down the halls of the Rare wing in the most upper floors. Staring for a moment, the little energy ball was off before he could stop her. "Ikinya!!" he called out, but she was gone.
There was a scent in the air, and the panther had smelt it before. It was the same smell that had drawn her to Dareios along with the guiding spirit that helped out the youngest guides. It was sweet and uplifting, and it was the one she'd been looking for in all the rooms. Ikinya needed to find the point of the scent, or she knew her father would never be able to relax and would get stressed. He was so busy, and she understood what he was doing even if she was supposedly too young to know. Excitedly dashing through the halls, the brightly dressed girl felt drawn down a hall she didn't think she needed to go down. But going with her gut was a part of being a Spirit Guide; if she didn't take the signs that were given to her then she would be a failure. Taking the hallway, the girl calmed down and walked up to a door. Staring at it, and with no guard around, the girl simply opened it without much thought. Peeking in, large brown eyes wide with anticipation, she spied a woman inside with flowing red hair like a sunset. "Hallo. I'm Ikinya? What's your name? Jy is mooi~ Wow, you're so pretty!" With the innocence of any good eight year old, she walked right up to the woman and circled her, a small purring noise coming from her. Grinning up at the woman, she had no idea that her father was frantically searching for her, worried that his precious little girl had been taken by someone and he'd never see her again. Spying a guard who was looking for the African girl too, he took her to where she'd last been seen and they began to look there. They were only a few halls away from the room Ikinya had barged into and was staring in awe at the woman with the bright red hair.
[translations: Opskud pa = Hurry up dad. Nee = no. Jy is mooi = you are pretty.]
[outfits]
Color Me Fubar OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE. Dareios will probably appear pretty soon, if you want you can shove him in at the end of your post :3
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N o i r Wafflesaurus Vice Captain
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