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 Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2009 9:56 pm
He had divulged everything that he could think of. Sure, he could have lingered longer to try and get more details, but he would have risked scaring Mikaril off. And besides, Haellara would learn all she needed on her own. It was just her brother and a slave after all.
When Hael instructed the large muscular drow to go and fetch the pair, Nuumia gave them passing glances. He could only imagin how quickly the capture would be now. When Haellara choose to address him though, Nuumia's eyes shot back to her immediatly. Stay or retire? Nuumia clasped his hands upon the bottle, and he lowered his voice a little. "So...does this mean I can stay and be part of your House Matron? I would like to stay please. I would like to see them brought to you definatly."
Kyil's eyes had drifted closed as he wallowed in the comfort of the bed. Hmmm. He had missed sleeping on a bed too. Wriggling on top of the sheets he stretched his arms over his head...and jumped at the first crash to the door. The second crash came quickly, and Kyil scrambled to sit up on his bed. His pink eyes huge at the sight of the massive males that had just bargedin. "What...what are you doing!?" He exclaimed. His eyes falling to the drawn weapons as he pushed himself back against the bed a bit to get a little further away. This had to be..a mistake of some sort of course..but still!"
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Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2009 10:25 pm
Haellara had been so busy revelling in her victory that she had utterly forgotten the promise she had made to Nuumia until she heard his rather plaintive question. She blinked and looked over at him, as though seeing him for the first time. "What? Oh yes, of course; you have done your part well; consider it done." She offered a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but her current feral disposition caused the smile to come out more like a vampire's coming in contact with a fresh artery. "You will of course remain with me to watch and learn. This is after all a momentous occasion, and I wish it to be burned into your mind, not to mention you shall have an idea of how to deal with insubordinates."
The guards did not bother answering the obviously surprised male, but instead one of them reached for him to pin him down while the other placed a burlap sack over his head and tied it off roughly at the neck. The third stayed by the door, warning any that stuck their heads out of their doors with a menacing glare. The male who had tied the sack watched as their captive was roughly pulled off of the bed and made to stand there in his frilly clothes. One of them signed to the other. Can you believe this guy? Dressing in this stuff? Maybe Mikaril makes him do it, the other signed back. The other snorted with laughter and brought his rough, battle-scarred hand up, slowly caressing the soft skin of Kyil's arm. He's pretty soft though; I've been with females who're rougher-skinned. He gave Kyil's arm a little pinch, as though testing to see how much meat there was. The biggest gave him a warning glare. None of that; remember what Matron Haellara said. Unharmed. Grumbling, the other grabbed Kyil and pulled him down behind one of the beds and out of sight, taking the moment to shamelessly stroke Kyil's head through the sack, while his other hand clamped down roughly on Kyil's mouth, preventing him from making any noise. The guard by the door walked into the room and closed the door quietly, hiding in thw shadows with the others.
Mikaril should have sensed something amiss in the way the inkeeper stared so intently at him when he returned, but figuring he was only concerned about him bringing in food from an outside source, Mikaril just shrugged it off. They could probably come down for breakfast the next morning and give him a little extra. No harm in making yourself a desirable customer. He walked up the stairs and to the door, where he knocked quietly. "Kyil?" The door opened, and in he walked.
He never saw it coming. A stinging blow caused him to tilt backwards, and as he dropped the packages he had been carrying, he felt a body like a hook horror's slam into him, and a sack was roughly pulled over his head, covering his world in darkness. "Who are you? Wha-?" he managed to say before another blow came his way, causing him to see stars. Figuring out that talking earned him smacks, he resolved to keep quiet and opened his ears, trying to gather some signs from the noises he could hear. He heard the assailants moving around, three or so heavy sets of boots, and a hesitant shuffle that could only be Kyil. He was made to march forward, and he felt them all going down stairs, past the murmers of a crowd, then out into the open where the noise doubled. He tried to keep from tripping as the burly attackers led him a surprisingly short distance before he felt the ground giving way to smooth stone. The noise of the markets faded and was replaced by echoes as the entire lot of them marched down a smooth-floored area, through a few doors, and into a room smelling heavily on incense. A smell he would know anywhere. Right before the bag was pulled off of his head and he blinked at the subtle change of light, he saw the all-too familiar throne room, and sitting there in the matron mother's chair was his own sister Haellara. He was too stunned even to speak, more so when he saw the same little boy that they had helped earlier sitting at her side, but though he had lost his tongue, he began peering around anxiously to see if Kyil had been brought in also.
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Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2009 11:05 pm
Nuumia's eyes lit up the moment Haellara verbally agreed to accept him. A smile answered her own. Though while her's seemed so predatory, Nuumia's shined with a childs open joy. She said yes. His youthful face had a look of such...relief. It hardly looked right on a drow. But Nuumia hardly cared. With others he played his acts. With Haellara he intended to show her nothing but his eagerness to gain her approval.
The Goddess meant for him to be here. He had delivered something she dearly wanted. This could only serve as a sign. At haellara's direction he edged closer to where she sat and plunked himself down on the floor. He would stay and watch and..wait? What? Deal with insubordinates? Why would he need such learning? Nuumia turned his black gaze back to look up at her. SHe looked to be in such a good mood he could not bring himself to question her now. Such a question would be a distraction from her own pleasure. That is all that mattered right now. So Nuumia shifted a bit in place to get more comfortable and crossed his legs. He would pay attention, and later when Haellara had finished with her pleasures then he'd ask her a bit more. Like...could he have a bed of his own to sleep in? He had spent so much time wedged into that crack it would feel really good to have a place to sprawl out on!
When it was the pair were brought in, Nuumia felt not a moment of sympathy for either males. Despite the obvious kidness that had been shown. Perhaps someday he'd do something in turn, but only if it came up and they weren't all dead by then. Mikaril's eyes slid over him after the sack was removed from his head, and nuumia lifted a hand to give the other male a little wave, accompanied by a queerly gloating free smile.
It all happened so quickly! Kyil scrambled, then writhed as the pair of males bore down on him. "N-no! Stop! Let go!" He cried out at first, but his struggles quickly ceased the moment the sack was drawn over his head. Sightless now, Kyil would not risk struggling frther and harming himself. he had seen the weapons of the males and that had unsettled him. Bound as he was, he was incapable of making use of the touch points that might have evened things between him and the brutes. So instead he stood in sullen and fearful silence. He felt a moment later a hand stroking his arm, and he cringed automaticaly in response. The sense of pain came next as he was pinched. "Nyah!" He called out inside the sack, though he made no more sounds following the pinch. Were they talking now? What were they planning? Were they slavers? Well...at first Kyil would have thought so. Until it was that he found himself directed and pushed down to the floor. Sitting there, he gave a small jerk as he felt a large hand press over the area of the sack where his mouth was. Then...a stroking sensation. What was going on? Surely he wasn't doing this to calm his nerves...ah...it hardly took Kyil long to suspect the male stroking his head was most likely one of those that liked his sort. Well... Perhaps...he could use this? It wouldn't be the first time he had acted after all. Every day in the Black for example.
Kyil tilted his head towards the stroking in a submissive manner. He had no weapons. Perhaps....well... he would make no plans. he would merely sit quietly and put up no sort of fuss. He would even make himself seem accepting of the petting. Actually it wasn't that bad. It could have been far worse. the male at least seemed to be respectful in his holding.
Soon he heard Mikaril's voice, and of course, as the loyal slave would, he made a muffled sound at Mikaril's voice, and then again at the obvious sound of his master and friend being attacked. He squirmed and emitted a small whimper behind the hand that kept him silenced.
Then...things began to move again. He found himself blindly hauled to his feet and directed. He shuffled along. Stumbling from time to time, but ultimately he tried his best to provide as little resistance as possible.
The trek seemed to take a long time to complete. When it came to a end, the bag was thankfully removed. Kyil blinked his pink eyes to better take in the sights about him. A female dominated a throne, marking her as a Matron of course and...Kyil fixed the boy near to her with a surprised and openly unsettled expression. Well...now he knew why they were there...His head turned then to find Mikaril looking towards him.
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Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 6:42 pm
Looking from both one hapless male to the other, Haellara smiled ferally, savoring the moment. She took a few delicate moments to size up the drow bound beside her brother. Such a handsome male! She had to hand it to Mika, he could pick his slaves. If she didn't have plans for him, and if she didn't know that he would adamantly refuse, she would give him a job picking servants for her house. Such delicate pink eyes, and those clothes; she had to fight to keep from laughing out loud at the obvious girl outfit. It was hard to tell who had the more terrified look, and that was saying something, since Miky had infinitely more reason to be afraid. His little friend seemed easy to frighten, which screamed at her of his obvious weakness and soft upbringing. He promised such fun.
Allowing herself to lapse into a more relaxed pose, she returned her gaze to Mikaril. "It's been a long time, little brother. All that running around in the wilds, getting into who knows what sort of trouble. You would think that with all that, you would have had the sense to stay away. But you have made the worst mistake of your pitiful life, and I mean to make you pay." She laughed at Mikaril's panicked shout, and narrowed her eyes gleefully at Mikaril, intending to savor his reaction like a vintage glass of wine. "Dear mother has.....passed on. I rule the house now, and you know what that means. The forbidding is lifted, and you are now truly mine. You and your dear little friend." Ignoring her brother's followed outburst, she nodded at the drow holding Mikaril. "Take him to the playroom and ensure he cannot get out; I shall be there shortly."
As soon as the pair had left, she rose from her chair and walked smoothly over to Kyil, towering over him as she sized up his delicate-looking body. "Now.....what shall I do with you? How about we start with you telling me where you come from, and how you came to be with my brother."
Mikaril couldn't contain the hate in his eyes as he saw Haellara in his mother's chair. The realization hit him suddenly, and regardless of whether it cost him a blow to the head, he shouted at her. "Why are YOU in that chair!? Where's Matron Dilayne?!" He winced to accept the blow stoically, even as he saw Haellara raise her hand and stay the guard's hand. As he heard his sister's answer, he felt as though he had been hit with a freezing spell. On his insides. His mother.....dead? And judging by the smirk on Haellara's face, it had undoubtedly come about by her hand. "No..." he whispered as he bit his lip to stay the small cry of anguish that had threatened to burst forth. Haellara.....the new matron of House Torlyl.
He knew full well what forbidding his sister was speaking of. When Dilayne was alive, she had forbidden her daughter to inflict any permanent harm on her brothers, lest they become broken and unfit to serve the house. He always knew that Hael had wanted to test her limits with him, but was unable to for fear of invoking the wrath of the matron. But now, the rule had died with the female who had established it, and both he and Kyil were at her mercies, such as they were. As she mentioned his dear little friend, he felt another surge of panic. "Don't touch him! It's me you want; leave him alone!" Through the ringing in his ears at his sudden outburst, he heard Haellara's orders and felt himself being hauled up and made to march toward the door. Turning his head, he called out to Kyil as the door slammed. "Do what she says, Kyil; just stay alive!!"
He saw the door slam and hoped that Kyil had heard him. He walked as fast as he could; two of his strides were easily his brother's one; and he flung a casual glance up at the male he had once known. "It's been a while.....hasn't it?" The large male showed no sign of having heard him as he stared straight ahead. Sighing, Mikaril tried again. "How can you serve her when she's so much younger than you all? If you all worked together, maybe you could-" His words were cut off abruptly as the male's hand reached out and grabbed Mikaril by the throat, turning his head roughly in order to look him in the eye. "You always had such little idea of the natural order of things. Now you're to pay the price for it. Be a proper male for once, and take it." Mikaril gasped for air as he felt his throat released, and he traveled the rest of the way in silence.
They reached the double-doors that Mikaril had hoped he would never see again; large metal doors pitted with rust and had the appearance of old blood along the bottom, as though the doors themselves were bleeding from their own sort of torture. Muscles bulging, the male reached out to open the door, revealing a dark hole and a loathsome smell; like carrion and medicine. Mikaril peered in fearfully, but before he could look at anything, he felt a sudden sharp sting on his neck, and he felt the tickle of feathers as the large dart did its work, injecting its sleeping posion right into his neck vein, making it's reaction almost instantaneous. Devoid of expression, the guard dumped the unconscious male on the floor of the room and shut the door with a grinding boom, leaving Mikaril swirling in a dark dream.
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Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 7:28 pm
Frightened...yes. Kyil was without a doubt frightened. But he had felt fear before. Mostly since he had left his Mistress' House. But..he was getting used to it. And there was always one consistant thing that followed the fear.
Mikaril made things right.
Kyil's eyes were drawn to his master and he took some comfort in the fact that he knew Mikaril would save them from this. He always had before after all. Now surely would be no different. Even when Mikaril made his outburst...and the following gloating that occured... Kyil did not feel too much of a lessening in his belief.
When Haellara spoke of belonging, and included him into her words. Kyil felt his heart leap and fall in his chest. Belong. That was right...He still belonged to Mistress Zariira. Even though she was of another cityt, her House still held a noteable rank. Surely that alone would make another matron hesitate. At least...considering the fact Kyil had not yet done anything to deserve her ire or any form of punishment. The worst that had come about thus far was actually at the hands of her men. Still, he had more faith in Mikaril being the one to get them both out of this situation.
At least...he did until Mikaril was being forceibly removed from the room. Until now Kyil had remained standing clamly. Even the gauging look over he recieved from the Matron had only filled him mild unease. Now though...Now...as Mikaril was being pulled from the room. Well, Kyil could not continue the alarmed start. His lips parted a little in protest as his friend was carried off. His shouted back wods filled him with a deep sense of alarm and he shifted his stance as if he were intending to run after him. "Master!" He called out, and his stomach fell. It was the same feeling he had felt once before. When he had seen Mikaril vanish over the edge of the building and out of his sight.
Then Haellara stood over him. His body felt quite...small..in compare to the towering female. She seemed to have feet over him due to her confidence and surity. Kyil could not resist the slight cringe that developed as she spoke so smoothly to him.
He was given a moment now though...to somehow wriggle himself from this situation though...perhaps?
"I am Ujool Kyil. I am the possession of Lady Zariira Luana, second House of Eryndlyn. I am traveling with Master Mikaril so he may...train me." It wasn't a lie. Not in the least. Kyil had merely choosen to leave out great gaps in his explanation was all...
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Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 9:07 pm
Feeling no telltale vibration from her truth-deducing pendant, Haellara smiled unpleasantly as she leered down at the obviously cowed male. "Train you? In what; becoming tainted with things like compassion, love?" She spat out the last word as though it left a foul taste in her mouth. "Such thoughts make your head as soft as your skin. For us, there is only power. That is a lesson well worth learning, but obviously one my brother failed to teach you. He is a failure in so many other ways; it hardly surprises me that he would be lacking in teaching another the ways of the world. You would be much more wise to place your learning capabilities into more capable hands....such as mine."
She reached out her hand and stroked Kyil's cheek. "You could always join my household; you may be just a male, but you show promise in being a servant; your pink eyes have a measure of allure to them, not to mention the softness of your body. So long have I been surrounded by males who have bodies like stone, emotions so well hidden. You can serve to placate me, and who knows; if you choose to share the load in that respect, I might be able to go easier on your dear 'master'. With two of you, I would undoubtedly be hard-pressed to divide my attention equally."
Hearing a knock on the door, she looked over and saw the same male who had taken her brother away, standing in the doorway. He gave only a nod. Returning the nod, she turned back to Kyil and smiled. "Consider my offer, boy; I shall be back presently to hear your answer." Straightening up, she looked over at her chair, beside which Nuumia was still stationed. "Keep an eye on him my little one; I shall endeavor to be swift." With a swish of her robe, she exited the throne room and walked the cold stone corridors at a brisk trot, finally opening the rust-pitted playroom doors as though they were made of matchwood. Closing the door behind her, she stared first at the crumpled form on the floor, and then at the rack that dominated the center of the room, where she could almost see the gleam of metal atop the splintered slab. Fairly breathless with excitement, she reached down and moved Mikaril's unconscious form until he was splayed out, then proceeded to remove his armor and clothes.
Once removed, she hoisted him up, marvelling at how little he weighed even after all this time, and walked over to the rack, the gleam of a dozen metal hooks shining in her yellow-tinged eyes. Time at last for the game to begin.
The first thing Mikaril felt when he came to was that his back felt...strange. He knew from the position of his arms and legs that he was on the rack, and from the foul breeze playing along his skin that he was naked, but instead of the feeling of old splinters digging into the flesh of his back, he felt metal, warmed by the heat from his skin, and some of it seemed to be...inside of him, causing his back to throb with a dull ache. He shifted his back, trying to pull his back away from the metal; the resulting pain caused him to cry out and slump back down, whimpering as he felt a shard of metal scrape one of his ribs. "That wasn't a good idea," a voice said out of the darkness, nearly in his ear. Looking over to his right, Mikaril saw the red-yellow eyes of his sister peering out at him from the side of the rack. She appeared to be toying with something beneath the rack itself.
Gasping, Mikaril tried not to move his back as he spoke through gritted teeth. "What...have you got me...hooked up to?" Haellara's head reappeared, a slender tube in one long-nailed hand. "You'll find out in a minute; be patient. It isn't as though you've anywhere to go." She vanished again and after another minute he saw her rise up like a specter, a big smile on her face. "Now to see if it works." She seemed to ponder for a minute, then as Mikaril watched her, she slowly levitated until she was right above him, leveling herself out with smooth strokes like a swimmer, until she was parallel with him, wisps of her yellow-white hair nearly touching his face. She placed a thin hand on each side of his chest and suddenly dismissed her levitation spell, bringing her full weight onto his chest. Pain erupted as he felt shards gouge deeper into his back, slicing their way past ribs and beyond, until he felt himself becoming short of breath, and he felt blood welling up in his throat. His pained scream came out as a gurgle, and his vision danced with spots of black. He saw Haellara's startled face before the black spots overwhelmed him, and he slipped back into the temporary reprieve of unconsciousness.
A sudden jolt brought him back to painful reality, and he tasted dust that hinted of mushroom. He coughed the last of it out and looked around blearily. All was as it had been before, and the flaring pain in his back had once more been receded to a throbbing ache. Haellara was off beside her shelves of potions, admiring a bottle filled halfway with what appeared to be a translucent, red-orange liquid. She moved the bottle, watching the contents swish. He could vaguely make out a smaller, empty bottle clutched in her other hand. He saw her turn his way and wink at him. "Consider yourself lucky I don't intend to do that again; it yielded an impressive amount of pain, but the metal punctured your lungs, and I nearly lost you. Used a perfectly good healing potion on you, and I don't intend to go using those all up. You'll just have to settle for the less life-threatening, more excruciating means of extracting pain."
Mikaril blinked, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "Amount of.....pain? What are you talking about?" He watched her blink momentarily, and then smile as she walks over to him. "Of course; I promised you some answers to that, didn't I?" She reached down below the rack and pulled up a thin tube, the insides smeared with the red-orange liquid. "You see, your back is attached to a metal plate lined with an even dozen barbed hooks, which is in turn bolted down to the rack itself. Whenever I inflict pain on you, this ingenious little device turns your pain into a liquid state, which I intend to use to the absolute fullest." Still taking all of this in, Mikaril winced as he felt Hael's hand jerk his mouth open and drop a few drops of the 'liquid pain' into his mouth. He jerked as he felt it burning it's way down his throat, and further irritating his back. He focused on Haellara, who stood over him with the bottle. "I have some questions for you regarding your little friend; you had best answer, unless you wish to try the entire bottle."
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Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 9:44 pm
The matron seemed pleased enough for some reason. Kyil remained in his slightly cringed state. In the past he had been purchased by domineering females. They had wanted the feeling of power and control with another. Most times it was because they lacked that respect or power in thier own homes or positions. They had been easy to please. He had never been in the hands of a matron though. As a matron she was most likely used to power and control. It would not be so easy to guess what would satisfy the female enough to avoid being harmed. Mikaril had said to do whatever it was that the matron wanted. Just to stay alive.
Haellara's contempt for the things she assumed Mikaril was teaching him gained her a pink eyed blinking. Such vehemence. Such disgust! It was a sentiment he was aware of and used to though. Love and compassion had not been welcome emotions in the Black. They were ued as tools but..to be felt honestly? Oh no. That had never been allowed. Kyil parted his lips, intending to try and word something that would not offend a matron...but his words froze upon his lips in the next instant.
Haellaras hand gently caressed his cheek, and his pink eyes widened considerably. He had not been expecting such...attention...from the matron. His head gave a mall start, and his lips trembled with the effort he made to try and speak. Join her household? Her proposition... the answer was of course No! He was working the word up in his throat even as she continued...and it died upon his tongue.
The alludeing that she would spare Mikaril is what killed it. His master was obviously not in a good position, and though Kyil only had a vauge idea of what it was that would befall him...it was enough to fill him with a painful ache. He couldn't. Oh, he would swear to the Goddess now that he'd give anything to be able to though. Not out of any desire for the female. No, she had already placed in him a healthy desire to shy away from her. But for Mikaril's sake he'd do anything to gain the matrons attention and spare him any pain or unpleasentness.
But he couldn't. His Mistress had been very clear. He was to have nothing to do with other females in that respect. He belonge to her. Her alone...
Through it all Kyil had not managed to utter a word. For this he felt utterly sick. He should have protested or said something...but the female truely was imposeing... And the boy...the little child they had helped...Kyil turned to look at him as the matron sept herself off to amuse herself with his master.
Well...it would have been a horrible lie if Nuumia said that seeing Matron Haellara coming onto the captive slave wasn't something that stirred jealousy in his little heart. Kyil was taller, slimmer, prettier, and more colorful then Nuumia was. As Haellara stroked Kyil's cheek and spoke of soft bodies and hidden emotions, Nuu looked down at his plain black hands and felt a pang of inadequacy. He had to wait months wedged into a crack to become part of her House. And some prettied up delicate toy just had to cringe and bat his pretty bright eyes and she was already welcoming him into her graces.
Nuumia dropped his hands to his sides as he caught Haellara turning towards him out of the corner of his eyes. Looking up at her, he nodded his head at her direstion. "Yes Matron. I'll be happy to!" No..actually he'd be happier to push the pink eyed male into the nearest drider web and watch him wriggle for a bit. But...it's what she wanted. So he turned to look at the other male.
He could see the look of betrayal easily in the males eyes. Shifting to his feet, Nuu crossed his hands behind his back and meandered his way to where the taller male was standing and looking as if he might just collapse with a poke in the right place.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 7:09 pm
"You have but to answer my questions and I shall remove it. Why has this male come with you to my House? Why has he left his own?" Mikaril knew his sister was trying to make her voice sound soothing, but she wasn't fooling anyone with the strain in her voice or the maniacal gleam in her eyes. He gritted his teeth for what must have been the thousandth time as he felt a fresh wave of searing heat on his stomach. He remembered for perhaps the hundredth time why when he had received his first set of armor, he had taken extra pains to reinforce the front with his gleaming purple and gold plate. Because the stomach had so many pain-receiving nerves, and hurt the most when all manner of things were done to it. Even now, as he inclined his head a fraction to catch a glimpse of the creature crawling about mindlessly on the softest part of him, he wished the fire slug would think within the confines of its mushy brain to ooze further up and back onto his chest, where at least it didn't hurt as much. But the thing seemed content to slither in circles around his stomach, leaving intricate burn marks and charred flesh. Seeming to be made entirely from a gelatinous blob of pure magma, Mikaril did not question how his sister had come across the creature, only wishing with every fiber of his being that he could shake the creature off and grind it into the floor with his foot.
Grinding his teeth until he was certain they were beginning to crack, he spoke. "I don't know-" He saw the pendant at his sister's throat vibrate instantly, and her eyes snapped open wide in rage. "LIAR!" she screamed, striking him across the face and leaving a wake of red streaks from her nails. "I know you know more of that male than his House, and I WILL have an answer!" She wirled on her heels and stormed off toward the back of the room, where her garden was. She could hear her muttering darkly to herself, and he wondered just what it was that she was planning. The lines on his cheek were beginning to smart, and his vision to blur. The fire slug was finally finished with its tail-chasing and was seeing how much of the skin on his leg it could burn its Hellish pattern on.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment trying to focus his mind away from the pain, and suddenly a familiar scent wafted past his nose. It was the scent of the soap that Kyil had used at the bath house. His eyes snapped open and there he was; standing beside the rack with a serene look on his face, his pink eyes shining with happiness. "K-kyil..." he whispered, his right hand moving within the confines of the leather strap. His eyes widening, he gasped out at the figure. "I don't know how you got in here, but you have to leave, before she-!" A shadow seemed to fill his vision, and Kyil was suddenly whipped away from him in a whirlwind of blue cloak. He saw Haellara back away from the rack, her long-fingered hands gripping Kyil by his arms like a pair of spiders. "Before I what, little brother? Before I do something like...this?" Seeming to barely move, she released her grip on one of Kyil's arms while pulling the other one out to its fullest natural extent, and brought her palm savagely against Kyil's elbow. The snap sounded like a toothpick breaking, and Mikaril's eyes widened as he saw Kyil's face contort in pain, pink eyes looking pleadingly at Mikaril. "M....Mis.." Haellara's hand shot out and grabbed the slender neck, digging her nails in deep. "Shall his neck be next? Tell me what I wish to know, and quickly; every second you pause I shall inflict more suffering upon him. How much can he take, I wonder?"
Fighting for breath, and not caring that his panicky heartbeat was drawing the interest of the fire slug, Mikaril made his mind race to try and tell Haellara what she needed to placate her. "He....we met in Eryndlyn, his home city. He was a part of a house there-" Haellara cut him short. "I know this already." He cried out as he watched her pick up the other, unbroken arm and begin casually to break the fingers like so many sticks of brittle graphite. "Stop! He was from a pleasure house, the Black Bottom! We met there because I tried to rob him long ago! We became comrades!" He saw the pendant around Hael's neck remain a bruised purple, but as though sensing that there was still more, he saw her raise a long finger and bring it close to one of the wide-open, pink eyes. "And?" He paused to force his mind to think of what else she wanted, when he saw her finger jab and the resulting splash of red, hearing his friend's wail and seeing him thrash about in Haellara's iron grasp. Blinking back tears, Mikaril shouted, "He was cast out of his pleasure house for helping me. His Mistress, Zari, thought it was a sign of imperfection! I've been helping him survive so that he can return there someday! All he wants is to return there and serve his mistress, like any good male!"
He watched in anguish as Haellara released Kyil, watching him crumple to the floor like a discarded, bloody rag. At least she had let him go; perhaps now she would heal him, and even if he was made whole only to suffer more, it would give him a chance to hide, even find a way out. He strained his neck to look down at the sobbing heap on the floor. "M....M-" Her face contorting into a sudden mask of rage, Haellara yanked the figure up by his hair, pulled out her weapon and jabbed the drow's back with all of her might, the barbed tips of her weapon sticking out of the bared chest like a cage around his heart. Mikaril could feel his own heart stopping as Haellara yanked her weapon free with a sickening crunch, and the body slid down to the floor, blood stains rapidly spreading through the delicate pink silk. Unable to take his rapidly tearing eyes from the sorry little heap on the floor, he didn't even notice Haellara coming over and removing the fire slug, nor did he notice her leaning over beside the rack and straightening up with another jar of the thick red-orange pain essence. He then had little choice but to divert his gaze when his sister forced his mouth open and poured the entire contents of the jar into his mouth, causing him to gag, and making the usual movements to get him to swallow. His world exploded into a wash of nightmarish colors and sounds, and as his body began to thrash like a frightened child caught in a blanket during a nightmare, his eyes rolled back into his head, and the world turned black; the only moment of peace he would have all night.
Repositioning the empty jar below the rack, Haellara smiled grimly at the unconscious male; he was in for a rough night, being drugged on his own pain, and who knew; with what he had just seen, he might never want to wake again. She walked over to the bloody pile on the floor and prodded it with her toe. The pink rags were vanishing, the white hair retreating into the skull, and smooth ebony skin turned rough and crusted with dirt, in spite of the additional illusion of scent. The drow was fast becoming a goblin, his face still a mask of shock as she turned the limp body over. She glared down at its ruined face; it had almost ruined everything! She thought that spell she had cast upon it would have kept it happy and silent, but as she had inflicted her small pains upon it, the stupid thing had begun to come to, crying for his mistress. She had had to move against it quickly before it could complete the word, but judging from the look of despair on Mika's face, he had fallen for the ruse just the same. And now with the first of what was to become a nightly dose of nightmare and pain-enducing drugs of his very own making, she would be able to pull the same illusion again and again, with him never knowing which wouls really be his friend.
With a final puff of residual magic, the illusion faded, leaving the goblin in a bloody mess on the floor. "I must summon a servant to clean this up," Haellara mused to herself, and she turned to leave when suddenly, she heard a second, much smaller sound of a magic dispelling. She whirled around and peered at the surrounding darkness, but no one was there. Still, she was certain she HAD heard something..... She stalked over toward the rack and the writhing form on top of it; had Mika been able to do something even in the throes of a drugged nightmare?
She peered down at the male, at the beads of sweat running down his chest, the hands clenching and unclenching, the fevered flush creeping up all the way to his ears, the.......wait. Haellara squinted at Mikaril's face, using her infrared to peer at it. Why were Mika's ears so white-hot? Was it an after-effect of the liquid pain? Acting on a sudden thought, Haellara turned around and strode swiftly toward her shelf, selecting a candle and lighting it with a whispered word. Squinting against it's harsh light, she walked back to the rack and held the candle up to Mikaril's face. What she saw caused her to gasp, take a full step back, and drop the candle, where it fell to the ground and went out with a sullen hiss.
Her brother's ears....they were....how could it be? They were white almost all the way down to the lobes, and was that FUZZ around the edge and poking out of the canal? For Lolth's sake, her brother had the ears of a....of a unicorn! What in the Nine Hells?!......She let out a gasp, which echoed in the now lightless room. It came back to her in a rush; the vivid menory of a stolen spell from a forbidden book, her taking it to the chapel to try it out on her puny little brother.... She had wanted to turn him into a unicorn and turn him over to Dilayne as a sacrifice, but it hadn't worked. Nothing had changed, and after her initial tantrum, she had come to the conclusion that the spell had been too difficult for her fledgeling skills.
Until now; apparently a part of it HAD taken hold, and was changing him slowly, like a flesh-eating virus. After all this time; the cloak, the insistence of keeping his head covered, his chosen profession which kept him always in shadow....all for this. She smiled as she stroked one of the fuzzy ears, enjoying the softness in spite of herself. "You are more clever than I thought brother, to hide such an ailment for so long....." This was an entirely new and unexpected development, and she needed to think long and hard on how best to exploit it. But first, she felt as though she had taken far too much time already; she must use her newly-found information and use it glean a little more. She grabbed a smaller bottle of the liquid pain and exited the playroom, heading for the throne room. It was time for Kyil to tell her a little bit more, provided little Nuumia had had the sense to leave enough of him for her to question.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 7:45 pm
Nuumia stood before Kyil. Looking up into the males face was easier then looking into matron Haellaras. For only because Kyil was a good head shorter then the matron herself. That did bring him down closer to Nuumia's own height. Still..being only barely three feet tall was frustrating. Particularly in this instance.
Kyil peered down at the boy, the jealousy in his black eyes was as easy to detect as a candles light in the darkness. It actually was a bit disturbing to see it int he eyes of one so small. "You...your the one who..." Kyil began to speak.
Nuumia cut him off by nodding his head curtly. "Matron Haellara wanted me to watch for Mikaril's return." Kyil's head tilted a little, the hurt expression was still so easy to see in his features. "But we helped you. Why would you..."
Again Nuumia cut him off. Lifting a hand, he waved it between himself and Kyil. "No. You were taken in like a pair of soft hearted saps. I set up the whole thing." Yes, there was a definate note of gloating in Nuumia's voice as he spoke.
It confused Kyil actually. The boy he saw before him was smileing as if he had been given a new toy. A innocent smile, but when he looked into those eyes he saw something ugly hidden beneath he black pools. "Why though? If your doing this just because you have no choice..."
Once more Nuumia shook his head. "No no. I did it so Matron Haellara would accept me into her House. You should count yourself lucky that she wants you. She's giving you a easy way in." Actually the words felt bitter on Nuumia's tongue as he spoke them.
"I do not want to be part of her House. I.... I certainly do not want what she is suggesting." Kyil softly spoke. His pink eyes fell to his feet, so it was that he did not see the slap coming until it hit.
Nuumia's lips curled into a feral and angry snarl as he would hear Kyil's words. His hand came up, opened rather then closed, and he smacked the stupid soft skinned male across the face. Kyil's head lifted up, his pink eyes blinking. Nuumia could see his slap had hardly phased Kyil. In fact he was sure it hardly even stung, which angered the small male even more. "Stupid male! Matron Haellara is just...just handing you a wonderful opportunity. You should be thanking the Goddess that she would find you interesting enough to even make such an offer!"
"I..Don't want it. I don't find women that are like her interesting in the least. Besides, I already have a Mistress. She's given me my orders and I will not disobay them." Kyil thought best to keep silent about his own views about the Goddess and what sort of things he ought to thank her for. Still. his answer hardly satisfied the small male.
Nuumia backed away a few steps from Kyil and he crossed his arms over his chest. he wanted to just...stab him. Poison him. Hurt him. But Haellara had told him only to watch him..so...watch he would. As time would pass Kyil shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Mikaril had been gone for a long time..and he feared the worst for his master. Time and again he glanced over towards the door. His pink eyes desperatly willing them to open and reveal mikaril slinking through. Surely he would escape...and surely he'd come save him. He could not see Mikaril just abandoning him here. Not if his sister was so terrifying....
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 8:48 pm
As Haellara approached the throne room, she could vaguely hear the faint shouts of one of the males she had left behind in the throne room. It sounded like Nuumia. She smiled a happy smile and picked up her pace. It sounded like the boys were getting along quite nicely. Hopefully all Nuumia was doing was yelling; a few little blows wouldn't have been a big breach of her instructions, but she would rather wait for Kyil to answer her questions before seeing any harm come to him.
She entered the throne room and her eyes fell immediately on the pair. Nuumia was standing there, arms folded, looking as though he were trying to melt Kyil into a puddle of ooze with his menacing glare. Kyil was standing up as well, but he looked fidgety and uncertain. Judging from the lingering heat signatures on Kyil's face, he had been struck a few times. Doubtless Nuumia had vented out some of his frustration on the handsome male, which was like soothing ointment to her lingering euphoric burning that she often felt after a great round of play.
With a wink and a nod at Nuumia, she walked up to Kyil and stood before him, feeling every inch of herself as tall as a stalagmite. "So...have you considered my offer? What then is your answer? Speak. Now." She gave the last word a very deliberate air of menace to it, wondering what the forthcoming answer might be. Was he to show a shred of common sense and take the route that would undoubtedly keep him alive, or would he act the fool and refuse for the sake of his mistress, or master. She wondered for an instant which the pink-eyed male would follow should he be given a choice of only one; his mistress, the ruler of the pleasure house, or her pathetic brother, who was the last drow in all of the Underdark worthy to receieve the title of master? Hopefully Nuumia's less than gentle touch had enlightened him of the situation in which he had found himself. And if not...... She smiled as she fingered the small vial of liquid pain she had concealed in her robe. If not, he could always sample what anguish awaited him should he choose to display any sort of pigheaded heroism.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 9:09 pm
Both males turned their heads as Haellara opened the door. Kyil's features flickered with dissappointment. He had been hoping terribly that Mikaril would be the one to return. Nuumia however fought to smooth his features out. Now that the matron was back, he needed to regain his composure.
Nuumia took some satisfaction in the wink and nod gained from Haellara. His lips curled upwards into a pleased smile and his eyes gleamed. She obviously looked happy and satisfied. Whatever she had been doing had put her into a cheerful mood. This was good. This was as it was supposed to be. When haellara stepped before Kyil, Nuumia flanked her. Standing a bit close, like a eager pet, waiting for just any small sign of a command or opportunity to impress upon her his devotion.
Kyil, on the other hand, found himself once more caught under the hard gaze of the female. "Where is Master Mikaril?" He started to question. His voice soft and his pink eyes searching as he glanced once more towards the door. Where was he? What was going on with him? Why had he been taken away? This playroom...what was it?
But the words spoken to him were directly about him, and not Mikaril. Kyil turned his pink eyes back upwards to Haellaras face. She spoke in a manner that certainly seemed warningly...
"My answer is No matron." Kyil begain in that soft voice of his. "Mistress Zariira commanded me to have nothing to do with any other females. I can not accept your offer even though I may wish otherwise. I'm a good trinket. I will not disobay her."
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 10:13 pm
Haellara's eyes narrowed at Kyil's answer; she had half-expected it, but a small part of her had honestly hoped that this pleasurable little tool would want to serve her as readily and with as much devotion as he had with her brother. Ignoring the inquiry about that same drow, she allowed herself a sigh and peered down at Kyil. "That's really a shame; I had hoped you would consider the option that was for the best of your health. Still, I believe that sooner than you think, you might find your options to be...somewhat fewer." She turned to Nuumia and allowed one of her truly lovely smiles to show to him. "I shall be going out presently; I want you to 'take care' of him for me. I'll leave you with a pair of healing potions, but I must ask you to leave him coherent for when I return. But keep him here; he is not to go outside of this room, is that understood?"
With that, Haellara exited the throne room, slamming the door behind her. She flagged down her bodyguard. "I am making a trip to Jenn'Yxir. Come with me." After a quick detour to the House treasure room, she walked out the door and was soon out going through the marketplace, scattering riff-raff every which way with her presence. Her bodyguard traveled stoically beside her, sometimes moving a ways in front to drive a wedge in the crowd for his matron to pass. Soon they left the marketplace behind and approached a building that she knew contained a portal connecting to the segment of Undrek'Thoz known as Jenn'Yxir. She looked critically at her bodyguard, who had all manner of metal implements decorating him and protecting him. He would not make it through the portal that way. Pursing her lips, she pulled out her weapon and handed it to her bodyguard. "Remain here. I shall be back presently." With this, she walked forward and boldly stepped through the portal.
She emerged in a bustling world of noise and stink. Jenn'Yxir was the segment known for its slave trading, and as a result, the air was filled with cries of pain and shouts of auctioneers, and the smell of sweat, urine and things even worse. She had only been here once in a search for potential servants, and already it seemed as though she had just stepped away and been made to return. At least she knew this would give her precisely what she needed to give herself the ultimate edge in breaking Kyil.
She walked past countless auction blocks, dozens of cages and hundreds of figures being marched along in chains, until she came to a most prestigious-looking building in the center of the marketplace square. She stepped inside without hesitation and moved to a section where what looked like scrying mirrors were set up. Muttering an incantation that had been provided upon a scroll beside the mirror, with a few specific words of her own added in for the desired effect, she watched as it began to glow and then hum. She peered intently into the mirror, as though willing something into focus. Finally, she smiled as she saw what she had hoped. Clearing her throat, she addressed the mitrror, or rather, the reflection of the same. "Greetings Mistress Zariira. I am Matron Haellara Torlyl of House Torlyl, sixth house of Unrek'Thoz. I have come across a valuable of yours that appears to have gone astray....."
Nearly an hour later, Haellara reemerged in the filthy streets, unable to contain her smile. She had proven herself learned enough to use one of the magic mirrored communicators that Jenn'Yxir had set up in that very building solely for one purpose; the making of deals and the purchasing of slaves over long distances. She had lost the pouch of fine cut diamonds that she had carried in with her, but now she held something well worth it; a piece of paper backed by cloth, with all manner of scribbles on it. It didn't look like much, but anyone who dealt in the delling of slaves would recognize it instantly; the contract of a particularly valuable slave.
As she walked back to the portal, she went through the transaction once more in her mind. This Mistress Zariira had seemed genuinely surprised that her precious servant had made it so far from home, but it was obvious in her manner that given the right price, she would be willing to transfer him over to another mistress, one whom he would hopefully not disappoint. Still, in spite of her words, she had asked quite a high price for the pink-eyed male; it had come up to just about her entire bag of payment. She had gone ahead and given up the entire contents, just to ensure that the deal was done. The transaction had of course been magically done; both items replacing each other in an instant, and now she had what she knew was worth a measly bag of diamonds; the power to bend Kyil to her will; to break him if she so chose, and mold him to whatever she desired. A plaything, to be enjoyed for as long as he proved interesting. She always HAD pined for the best when she was a child; her toys were no exception.
She stepped through the portal once more and found herself breathing the cleaner air of Brudag. Her bodyguard stood waiting, almost precisely where she had left him. He snapped to attention upon seeing her, and she waved a hand as she approached him; the hand clasping the paper. "It's done; let us return." A smile found its way to the guard's face, and for once Haellara let it slide. Kyil's new ownership meant that there would be times when the soft male would find himself preyed upon by the other, stronger males of the house; something they had missed since Mikaril had left. But once again, only if Nuumia left enough of him behind. Reminded of the young future-matron and her orders to roughen up her new slave, she quickened her pace and was soon striding down the corridor toward the throne room, eager to gloat mercilessly to her new acquisition and see what her little future matron had done in her absence.
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 4:08 pm
The disappointment on Haellaras part was expected by Kyil. No female liked to be told no. Usually it was a invitation for punishment. Still, he would obey his Mistress. Even at the sake of displeasing this other female. Her resulting sigh had the effect of making Kyil's head bow in a outwardly sign of shame. It seemed terribly easy to slip back into this particular role. Perhaps all of his time away from the Black had not had a detrimental effect on him after all. he had feared that his growing ability to think and act more in his own interests had been a sign that he was forgetting all that he had been. That somehow he was losing that part of himself. Yet here he was, peering down at his toes and openly exhibiting the appearance of a chastised male. Even as Haellara was speaking of the limitation of his options...he felt he knew what that meant. She would be taking his choices away from him, and oddly that made him feel better. If it was he honestly had no choice, then he truly would be blameless in whatever happened.
She spoke then to Nuumia, and now Kyil's head lifted. His pink eyes flickered over to the small dark male. Two potions? Conscious? Kyil shifted back a step from Haellara as the unsettling meaning behind her words fall on him. Well..he was expecting punishment of some sort for telling her no. Truthfully, as much as he wanted the choice taken away from him, in order to make his situation easier to deal with, Kyil had less then no interest in agreeing to don the matrons bed. He could only imagine how terrifying it would have to be.
Nuumia of course had stood still and lingered near to Haellara as Kyil gave his answer. he already knew what it would be, so the resulting response from Haellara had been a bit disappointing. Nuumia had found himself hoping to see Haellara punishing the male for being such a fool.
Then again...
Nuumia found himself wondering. If Haellara had ordered him not to touch another female,and he was in Kyil's situation...would he have responded the same way? The sour answer would have been a yes. Regardless of the punishment. Well..that was a bit disappointing. He had to admire Kyil's loyalty and devotion to his one true mistress. That made it hard for him to keep hating him as much.
When Haellara turned after her brief exchange with Kyil, Nuumia stood up a bit on his toes, so as to make himself a little taller. The smile she favored him with was returned upon his own face immediately. Her instructions were quite clear, and regardless of the fact that he had gained a smidgen of respect for Kyil...well... quite the feral grin replaced the eager one he had shown to Haellara.
"Yes Mistress!" He chirruped immediately following her words. Oh, he would certainly take care of Kyil for her!
The door had not even closed on Haellara's retreating steps when Nuumia lashed out at the frightened and stationary Kyil. Nuumia had little strength to back up his blows, but he knew that a kick behind the knee's is all that was needed to make a bound individual fall. Kyil cried out at the kick, and topped forwards. His knee's landed with a sharp crack on the stone floor, and his body followed with a duller thud. Alone in the room now, Nuumia had no hesitation in pouncing the helpless male.
The anger he felt before was easily rekindled. All Nuumia had to do was revision Haellara's hand gently stroking Kyils cheek. he could imagine the lust that was probably already flickering to life for the pretty male. Nuumia felt a sever sense of inadequacy now....Looking at Kyil's softer grey skin and his long soft white hair...Seeing the strangely exotic tattoo on his shoulder and arm. Just looking at his delicate style of dress...
Kyil kicked his legs as he felt the small weight on his back. And Nuumia responded by pulling one of his slim daggers from his waist. He was already facing Kyil's feet, due to his pounce, so it was a easy matter to take his dagger and slam it down into the soft muscled area behind a knee. Kyil's resulting scream had a pitch higher then any Nuumia had heard and remembered. Nuumia blinked in surprise, then merely smiled as he placed his hand on the back of Kyil's thigh and jerked his blade back out. The resulting gush of blood washed over the pink material, ruining it Nuumia hoped, and began to stain the floor. Well, that was one leg Kyil would no longer be kicking.
Nuumia was quick to follow through and jabbed the dagger a second time into the back of Kyil's other knee. Again he heard that pleasant high pitched wail from the male under him and the leg stopped kicking. "Let's see you stand up now." Nuumia hissed as he shifted off Kyil's back. He dropped his dagger to the floor, and grabbed Kyil by the hair to begin hauling him upwards.
The pain Kyil felt already was...mind blowing. Even in the Black, the amount of pain he had ever been in had been mild. Soft whip lashings, nail scratching. Things of that sort. Sure he had suffered a kick in the tender area of all males more time then was proper...but none of that pain had ever resulted in this sort of continuing agony. His face was already well streaked from painful tears. So when Nuumia lifted him up by the hair, he was astounded by the ugly hateful expression on the small boys face, which quickly changed to outright disgust.
"You...your a soft, weak, pathetic male." Nuumia spat the words like sour seeds at Kyil. "All your loyalty is nothing if you can't endure for it!" Kyil could not quite understand what it was Nuumia was speaking of. Nuumia again gave his hair a vicious twist, and he started to drag Kyil across the floor. "Come on! Get up! Stand up you worthless male!" Nuumia taunted as Kyil attempted to shift his legs. The most he could do was get to his knees, but the resulting pain left white spots in his sight.
"Please! I can't! Stop please!" Kyil cried out as he was pulled along the floor. Dark red streaks followed where his knee's were dragged. Nuumia ceased dragging Kyil, not out of any moment of compassion for the pleading. No..the begging cries only further agitated him. This...this worthless slave....
Kyil slumped to the floor of the throne room, his knee's in such agony. Nuumia had said nothing, but he did not need to. No, Nuumia was allowing his actions to speak for him, and at that moment his action was to kick at Kyil. Nuumia drew back his leg and swung a viscious kick into the face of the prone male. Kyils head snapped upwards, and he heard a faint crunch sound accompanying the blinding agony.
Nuumia saw the blood start to pain the pretty males face, and he felt a surge of satisfaction. "Not so pretty now are you? Not so attractive anymore huh?" Kyil tucked his chin to his chest. he could not see! His ears were ringing at this point and his legs were fast losing any sensation in them. He became aware of a weight on his back again. Nuumia had sat himself down between Kyil's shoulder blades. Reaching down he grasped the rope binding Kyil's wrists together. Bracing his feet against the stone..he hauled backwards as hard as he could.
Kyil felt a moment of flaring pain once more, and again he began to scream. His cries rose higher and higher as Nuumia threw his head back and strained. Sweat beaded upon his brow and he gave a grunt...which was followed by a pair of sharp snaps. Kyil felt his elbows give under the pressure Nuumia was placing upon them, and his howl reached a new pitch. Nuumia released the now too limp arms so they flopped back against Kyil's back.
He had not yet used one of the potions. Now seemed like a good time though. Nuumia looked at the blood that had spread into a wide pool on the floor. he had not realised that Kyil would bleed so much from the legs. Shifting off Kyil, he casually crossed the floor to collect his dagger and one of the bottles. When he turned though, his steps changed to a hurried scamper.
Obviously Kyil had not undergone such torment before. Either that or Nuu had unwittingly struck a vein that was important in Kyil's legs. Now the pretty and bloody male was lying on the floor shaking. Nuumia knelt by Kyil and pushed him over onto his back. Uncorking the bottle, he shoved the mouth past Kyils lips. Pinching Kyil's nose, he watched as the male swallowed in reflex. A shame...he had worked pretty hard to break those arms...well..
After he heard the snaps of the arms, and after he saw that pretty nose un-crumple, and the bleeding cease from Kyil's knee, Nuumia rolled Kyil back onto his chest and dug his heels into the floor again. Kyil's mind had cleared with the healing and the removing of the pain from his body. So when he felt the weight between his shoulders again, and he felt his arms being bent back once more, he issued a scream.
"No no! please! Not again!" He did not want to feel that pain again. That terrible agony! With his legs healed he was able to kick and squirm anew. Nuumia responded by adjusting his placement of his feet on the stone floor so he would not be knocked off. "Fine." Nuumia coldly replied to the begging. If Kyil did not want his arms broken...
Nuumia grasped one of Kyil's fingers and gave it a vicious wrench. Well, these bones were not so hard for him to break..and the resulting scream from the male under him was just as satisfying. Two...three...four...of those fingers he snapped without hesitation. Kyil's head bowed against the stone, his forehead pressing against it as he tried to deal with the pain. Kyil felt his arms being pulled back again, and all he could manage was a dry throat cry of protest.
For a second time Nuumia strained until he felt both of Kyil's arm's breaking under his efforts. While the male under him continued to scream, Nuumia bowed his head and found himself rather short of breath. 'Taking Care' of Kyil was rather hard and tiring work! Particularly when all he had was what was on him to make use of. Nuumia reached down and with the same bloody dagger that he had stabbed Kyil with before, he slicked through the rope binding his wrists. With Kyil's arms bound securely he wouldn't be able to move the broken bones as much, meaning the pain would be limited a bit. Now, with his arms free he could feel the grating of the bones and feel even more helpless.
Nuumia looked down on Kyil and frowned.
Kyil's eyes flowed with tears from his pain. His lips trembled as he looked upon his tormentor. He had never believed that such a small and innocent looking boy could harbor such hatred. The contempt in his face was truly frightening. He shifted, pushing his heels into the stone as he tried to push himself away from the looming Nuumia.
Nuu followed the slight and pathetic attempt of Kyil to put some sort of distance between them. Shifting on his feet, he brought himself down on Kyil's chest again. With his arms incapable of helping him at this point, all Kyil could do was writhe and whimper. His voice sounded a bit dry and hoarse. Nuumia considered feeding the final bottle to Kyil. It had only been almost a hour really. He didn't want to stop hurting the male, and he was not certain if the second bottle had been meant more as a back up in case he went too far, or to clean Kyil up once the Matron returned.
Nuumia decided it was most likely for the latter. In which case Haellara would be able to have her own fun with Kyil. She certainly seemed happy when she had come back from her playroom....Nuumia looked down at the whimpering Kyil and he leaned forwards.
"Your pathetic. I've hardly done anything to you." Kyil blinked up at Nuumia and pressed his blood tinged lips shut tightly. "Matron Haellara has probably inflicted a hundred times worse on Mikaril. He'd have shrugged all this off easily. But look at you. Begging like a surface elf and crying like a child." As he spoke Nuumia reached into his vest and started to open pockets.
Kyil swallowed heavily, and his pink eyes shifted to look at the door. The pain etched into his features took on a different aspect now. One that Nuumia was even to pick up on. Worry. Concern... Nuumia's lips turned upwards into a smile as he found a vial with a metal rod inserted into the cap. Humming to himself, he unscrewed the top and placed the bottle on the floor next to Kyil's head. Kyil's eyes shifted to the bottle, and he watched as Nuumia pulled the cap off. A small bundle of what seemed to be hair was attached to the end to form a brush and glistened wetly. Nuumia leaned forwards end placed his fingers over one of Kyils eyes. Prying the lids open of his eye, Nuumia leaned forwards and murmured.
"Now hold still. You don't want me to jab you with this and pop that pretty eye. I'm sure matron Haellara will want to do that herself." Kyil made a small sound in the back of his throat, that soon turned to a renewed scream of fresh pain. Nuumia lightly stroked the hair brush over the delicate membrane of Kyils eye. The venom immediately left a angry red streak in it's wake, and the bright pink became cloudy. Water welled up in Kyil's eye to wash away the poison.
Nuumia smiled as the body under him began to buck violently. The poison acted so quickly when inserted through the eyes... Kyil's screaming grew once more in pitch as the burning became white hot. It seemed to stretch all the way into the center of his head. Nuumia remained bending over him, holding his eye open so he could watch the organ rolling wildly in it's futile attempts to cleanse the poison from it's surface.
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 8:03 pm
The first thing Haellara noticed when she walked through the doors of the throne room was the aromatic scent of freshly spilled blood mingled with the lingering smell of drying blood. Patches and streaks of it lay everywhere, causing her a momentary twinge of panic. How throughly had her guards searched Kyil, the pink-eyed male? Had he been carrying a hidden weapon and thus used it to carve her little Nuumia to bloody strips?
But then she saw the pair of them, neither of them looking as though they had bled as much as the blood that congealed on the smooth stone. Nuumia must have really gone to town. She began to smile until she saw the vial, the brush, and the way Kyil's eyes seemed to burn with heat, at least twice as much as usual. She bit back a curse; she ought to have told Nuumia not to mess with the eyes; not only were they exceptionally delicate and harder to cure, but infusion of eyebright; her preferred eye-curing medicine; was horrendounsly expensive and hard for her to come by; doubtless because of the fragility of the flowers that bore the same name.
She trotted forward, pulling a tiny bottle of milky blue liquid from a robe pocket. Opening the lid and revealing a delicate glass dropper, she lightly touched the dripping tip to each of the male's clouded pink eyes. As she watched them sharpen and lose their haze, she whriled to face Nuumia, fighting to control her mounting anger. "I admit my neglect in telling you, but from now on, avoid harming the eyes when you play. I....do not wish to be burdened with the chore of healing such delicate instruments." Which was actually true; she was shamefully inept at healing eyes, but she tended to use other reasons for deliberately avoiding abuse of the eyes: that she wanted her victims to see what she was doing to them, or that she found the process trying, like she just had.
Once she was certain Kyil could see her, she leaned over him and smiled her most haughty smile. "Did you have fun with my future patron? It seems as though he really did a fine job showing you what he is capable of. I have had a most profitable excursion, and I think you ought to be the first to see the fruits of me labor." Whipping the paper out with a flourish, she held it close to Kyil's face, enough to nearly fill his vision. "In case you cannot read it, this lovely piece of paper represents you, from your shortest head-hair to your biggest toenail. I was able to confer with someone known as Mistress Zari and with a little persuasion, she was willing to give me this paper in exchange for payment. In short...." she withdrew the paper and brought her face close enough to Kyil so that they were almost nose-to-nose. "You belong to me now. No longer are you owned by Mistress Zari of the Black Bottom of Eryndlyn. You are now owned by Haellara Torlyl, matron mother of House Torlyl, sixth house of Undrek'Thoz."
Waiting for the words to sink in, Haellara straightned up and peered down at him. "In time I shall find a use for you in this household. Prove yourself worthy to be kept and you shall be; fail and you shall become a canvas for one of my wonderful Lolth-inspired works of art. Of course, I'd have to do away with Mika to make room for you on the rack, so do try and stay interesting for a while, will you?" She pulled out the jar of liquid pain that she had saved before leaving, and walked over to Nuumia, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Should he regain enough spirit to give you trouble, feel free to give him this; as much as you like. And should he persist, feel free to tell him what it is he is swallowing; his master's liquified pain. When I am not wanting him, do what you wish with him, but do nothing severe without first asking for a healing potion; he was expensive, and I would look at him for a while." She turned around and walked toward the door. "If you need me, you know where I shall be."
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 8:56 pm
Hearing the door open. Nuumia lifted his head from where he had been watching Kyil's agony. Kyil's body was still shaking under him as a result of the toxin, and honesly Nuumia was rather enjoying himsef. Haellara's return though mean his attention was fast taken elsewhere.
When haellara came forwards and knelt down, Nuumia pushed himself back off Kyil and stood. Her instant attention to the eyes that he had temporarily blinded sparked off a nervouse gut clentching feeling. Which was only validated when Haellara turned to look down at him. His black eyes grew wide, and he dared not contradict her when she was obviously upset. He had only just gained her favor after all, he had no desire to lose it now! No no! So he only nodded his head at her in acceptance of her instructions.
The pain Kyil was feeling did not vanish with the healing of his eyes. The toxin had trickled to the backs of his eyes and entered that sensitive area that continued to cause him the sensation of burning flame in his skull. By the time Haellara had turned her attention back to him, Kyil was able to see clearly, but his features were still a mask of pain. His breathing came in quick short gasps and his body still twitched.
However, he was able to focus his attention on Haellara beyond the pain. The pain he felt was...just nothing he was certain. Nothing in compare to what poor Mikaril had suffered. He laid and listened to Haellara speak. With his arms and most of his fingers broken he was not willing to move from his back too much at this point.
A paper was unfurled before him, and Kyil's eyes slipped over it. He..could read...and what words he did pick out made his heart plummet out his back. "No." He whispered faintly. Oh...Oh no no...no...
Haellara brought her face down to his own, and he could see the gloating delight in her face as she informed him that he was now hers. Mistress Zariira had sold him? Sold him... Those two words just...struck Kyil in a manner much like a death wound. All this time he had been speaking about returning. Sharing his heartfelt hopes with Mikaril. And she had just...sold him? Had he really been that flawed? Incapable of being fixed?
He almost missed the next words spoken while Haellara stood proud and sinister over him. The lingering threat to replace Mikaril..well...that cut him terribly. To fail Mistress Zariira so utterly..and then to fail Mikaril on top of it...He couldn't even cover his face in his emotional agony.
Nuumia had stood silent and meek during Haellara's time speaking with Kyil. her mentioning of him being her future patron had sent a soaring eagerness within him, but it was quickly dampered. She could only be saying it. He couldn't really believe it until the cermony was performed. But OH! How he would like to have it done soon! Nuumia accepted the bottle with a heart felt eagerness. His black yes alit with dark glee. So...despite his err, she was still going to let him torment Kyil? She couldn't have been too mad then.
"Oh Yes Mistress! Of course!" Nuumia eagerly replied. His hands clasped the vial as if it were his own personal love letter and watched as haellara led herself out of the room again.
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