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This wasn't how things were meant to go. Not at all. All he'd wanted to do was get his shopping done in peace and have it ferried over to his island home while enjoying a rare day out. By enjoy, it meant that Kaelan was - for once - left alone by the restless souls that he helped ferry to the afterlife. Sure he was hidden from sight by a long black velvet cloak, the hood so large it hid his face from view completely; the mask he wore on his disfigured side of his face was almost redundant. The only hint of colour on the man was the bright oranges and white of his cat, Pandora. Except Pandora was no longer curled up against his neck like a scarf over his shoulders, no, she was merrily running away from Kaelan, leading him straight up to some hotel that was out on the beach front, a long way from the city. Staring up at the hotel as his cat slid her way inside without much notice, the man groaned softly. Pandora obviously had a reason to scoot inside the large building, was she leading him here for a reason? Hoping to just pop in and out without being noticed, the plan in his head didn't go off the way he wanted - especially when he realised that his cat was sitting on the front desk in the hotel foyer and the ladies behind the counter just couldn't get enough of the fluffy cat. Approaching the desk, hoping to just apologise for his cat just running in and hoping they allowed animals in this hotel, the man was surprised when one woman greeted him like any other person might. Did she not see his mask and hood? Could she not tell that he was a freak? That he was different? Anxiety bubbled in his belly, but Pandora had other ideas.

Planting herself firmly down on the side of the desk Kaelan couldn't reach over to, the man had to stop himself from letting his agitation get the best of him, until he looked around and noticed what the other patrons of the hotel were doing. Realising what this place was (a person leading a normal looking person out by a collar was a bit of a giveaway), Kaelan went from thoroughly pissed off to awkwardly surprised. He'd been thinking about hiring some help to look after his nuisance familiar now that his time was taken up with soul reaping, and although the surprise didn't register thanks to his hidden face as the woman gave him a form to fill out, the man was taken aback. The universe seemed to delight in manipulating him to it's will; he did work for it in a way after all. So what was so weird about them sending a message to him through his cat? Nothing, that's what. And that pissed him off. Kaelan didn't want to be around people, he just wanted to be alone, to live his morbid life without fear. But as his cat purred and nuzzled his arms and hands, he felt his heart tighten and stomach clench - Pandora needed him around, so what harm was there in having just one person share his home? He'd barely see them anyway, right? Filling out the form with the awkward questions - at least, he found the questions awkward - the woman smiled and gave him a list of names and room numbers. Telling him what to do, the man just nodded and walked towards the lifts.

Walking down a hallway accompanied by a guard, he wasn't exactly too sure where he was being shown to. Face covered completely by the mask and hood still, the man kept his head down, favouring following his cat in the brightly lit hallway. God did he hate the light. A guard told him to stop by a door, but Pandora kept going. Frowning under his mask and hood, Kaelan snapped his fingers to make the cat obey, but she didn't. Instead, she circled by a door and meowed loudly. Confused, he clicked his fingers again, and once again, the cat mewed. Huffing, he wasn't game enough to assert his authority over his familiar when someone was close by, but he didn't need to, Kaelan soon understood why Pandora had gone to a different door than the one he'd been offered. His cat knew him better than anyone, so whoever was behind that door was obviously someone that would actually be of help to the man. Given he hadn't really said anything about the person he was after (he had been very vague on the form after seeing the word 'slave'), he'd just assumed the polite woman had picked some of their calmest and politest people for him to see. A thought that made his frustration bubble in his stomach more. He didn't need a kind soul taking pity on him. Picking his cat's preference over anyone else's any day, Kaelan ignored the guard and walked slowly over to the door, the cat mewing happily and pawing at the door like she desperately had to go in. "This isn't the right room, sir." The guard blatantly said, causing Kaelan to simply roll his eyes under his mask. "This is the one I'll see. I've been lead here for a reason." His voice was eerily soft, and incredibly monotonous to the point it was ghostly, but he got his point across and the guard reluctantly opened the door.

Instantly, Pandora darted in. Barging his way in, Kaelan had to put his hand up to stop his hood from falling off. "Pandora! Get back here." He hissed, his voice quite deathly now; the joys of being technically "undead". The cat on the other hand, was more content to sniff about the soul occupant of the room, a female. Mewing with great delight, Pandora was quite proud of her find, and nuzzled and rubbed up against the person as much as she could. There was something that Pandora liked about the girl in the room, and she wasn't going to give up this person without a fight. Feeling incredibly tense and nervous now, Kaelan moved on the spot barely past the doorway, not wanting to get close to the person in case they caught a glimpse of how he looked. "Pandora, stop it. Get off her." It was a poor effort to get his cat under control, but Kaelan wasn't game enough to get any close to this person, even if his cat was already smitten with her. "I'm... Sorry." Was all he managed to get out, directing the hesitant apology to the female, his head bowed to his feet. This, all of this, was making him feel incredibly low and worthless. He just wanted to go home and hide. He was a freak of nature, cursed forever to walk amongst beautiful people during the daylight, his curse forever written on his body. At night there was reprise, but no-one ever saw him at night. It had been so long since Kaelan had actually looked at himself in the mirror at nighttime that he'd begun to forget what he truly looked like. The Irish man forever now saw himself as nothing more than a beast; a beastly looking being with a beastly occupation with a beastly curse engraved on his body. Pandora was the only thing beautiful about him, and she was currently making it very hard for him to stay calm, seeing as the female occupant of the room was the first (living) female he'd spoken to for a long time. Well, first living female within his (permanent) age bracket.

It wasn't fair. For once he hadn't wanted trouble, and just this once he had wanted to try and do something to make his life a little easier, to take the pressure off himself so he could focus on his task he was doomed to repeat evermore. But, as usual, the universe and his blasted familiar had other plans. Trying his best not to stare at the crouching female, his hooded cloak and mask made it easier to sneak glances at the woman who occupied the room. Pale, soft complexion, long hair and her eyes... Clear, and with a pale colour. Her eyes had been close to that colour; this girls was silver-white, but hers had been silver-blue. The colour of the Heavens, in Kaelan's eyes. This girl had the pale complexion to rival and good Irish woman, and he was starting to feel the tingle of nerves and the twist of annoyance in the pit of his stomach. This game was cruel and unfair. They knew his problems with people, and with Pandora leading him to this woman out of all of them? Screwing up his eyes in an effort to control his emotions, her voice filled the quiet void.
"Are you afraid of me?"
The idea that he was afraid of her was laughable. In his mind he was screaming - 'you think that it's you I'm afraid of? How stupid...' - while his body stayed frozen on the stop, feeling a slight brush of air as she got to her feet. He could hear Pandora purring now, it was quiet, but he could hear his precious cat purring in the arms of this girl.

Quiet footsteps indicated the girl was getting closer to him, and drawing in a deep breath through his nose, he stood up tall and shut his eyes. This was torture he was sure. What did surprise him was the sudden albeit rather cute scalding that Pandora was given by the girl. Turning sharply to look at the girl, his eyes wide behind his mask and under his hood, his cat was offered back to him and the girl admitted that she wasn't going to take his cat away from him. Exhaling slowly, his eyes shutting, his anger and nerves subsided. He still felt jittery and all kinds of anxious, but not angry anymore. Pandora had her reasons for leading him to this godless place and to this overly pretty female dressed in shabby clothes, so who was he to argue when he was most likely going to get punished for ignoring such clear signs. "It's not someone taking my cat that worries me." Finally speaking in a voice that, while it still held an Irish lilt, sounded ghostly and quiet, he extended his bare hands (why oh why hadn't he worn gloves today?) and took his cat from the female. Quickly climbing up his torso to sit on his shoulders once more, a few locks of his wavy copper hair became dislodged and hung around the sides of his face. Pushing back his hood the smallest amount so the light from her room made his mask and the outline of his face clearer - his golden scars still hidden but it was harder to hide his ruby red eye - he finally took a better look at the female.

"What... What are you called? What's your name?" Wanting to smack himself in the face for sounding like an utter idiot trying to ask her name, Kaelan finally moved away from the door and hesitantly made his way over to the two chairs and table set up in the room. The whole room was so light, it was rather off-putting. Not a sterile crisp white, thank god, but still far too pure of a colour to suit a monster such as himself. Sitting down with a heavy sigh, Pandora snaked her way down from his shoulders to sit in his lap, stretching up every so often to butt her head against his chin. Pale fingers threaded their way through her long fur, his gentle strokes a dead give away for how much love he had for his cat. "If.. If you want, would you mind sitting? I wouldn't mind.. If.. If it's okay with you... I'd like to talk... Find out what you're like." It was clearly strange for the man to even initiate conversation, but the effort was there. Minute, but there. "I... I'm looking for someone who can look after Pandora.. My-My job often keeps me away from her at night so... I don't want her to get ill and hungry because of me." Of course, his true paranoia about leaving Pandora starving and hungry in the cold winter was all thanks to his past, the reason why he was to roam the earth forevermore, but it was something he couldn't admit because he wasn't overly aware of it himself. But even still, finding a person with the same care and compassion he felt for his cat, that was hard. They had to be loyal, be kind and thoughtful. Pandora obviously liked this woman, but he had to know for himself, he had to find out and see it for himself, even if she would never see his true self. Ever.

Expecting the girl to sit opposite himself, Kaelan got a mighty surprise when the fair-haired maiden sat down on the floor before himself. While it made him feel more confident to look down at someone rather than have them eye-to-eye, the man was highly aware of the female being able to see him clearer from her lower position. A good start was she'd told him her name - Keishara. An old name, one that meant purity in some languages, or Keeper of the Keys if you were to ask the Celestials he served. Still, her fair hair, eyes and dreamy nature almost seemed like she'd been named for a reason. The title 'sir' at the end of her answer made Kaelan freeze, his eyes growing a little wide in surprise. Such manners, especially in a place like this. Was this a forced behaviour? A show they were all asked to put on so they would get out? Her reactions seemed genuine enough, her questions and voice blatantly honest, especially the statement she just blurted out.
"I don't think you want to talk."
Well of course he bloody didn't. But unfortunately, talking was the only way you could get to know someone, considering there wasn't that many mind-readers around to help them all out. It seemed like this woman, this Keishara had a habit of just blurting out thoughts. To an extent he could see the usefulness of this - at least she'd be honest with him - but the quietness of his house would be quickly shattered. Not like it was that quiet with Francis around, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Frowning out of curiosity, her hand gestures almost faintly resembling some summoning movements, but the finger touch to the spot just under her collar bone made him stare in a most curious manner. What.. Did that mean? Was it just a completely obscure gesture or was there some deeper meaning to that touch? Either way, his eyes quickly returned to the female's, the fluffy cat now calm in his lap, chin rubbing on his knees. She was very thoughtful, and completely spaced out at the same time. There was this air around the girl that was almost.. Calm. Like she had very little concern over his mask or his secretive appearance. Or, at least if she did have any worries she was very good at hiding it.
"Those left behind never forget but fear those who left shall forget to return, and those who leave fear those left behind shall not be as they are when they return."
Fingers stopping in Pandora's fur, all Kaelan could do was stare. It like like in one sentence the girl had summed up all the fears that a large portion of the souls he saved felt. It was like right at that moment, there was a deeper side to Keishara that the man hadn't predicted. Her question made him shake his head to clear his thoughts before frowning slightly. It sounded like she was asking if he was some kind of vampire. Yet again though, he was surprised by the next tangent the female went off on as she started talking about Pandora, eventually reaching out to stroke the relaxed cat's fur. The comparison she gave was hitting too close to home to be comfortable, but she was so horribly correct it made his chest ache. Pandora was indeed the closest thing he had to a family member these days, and while he did feel the same kind of desire to protect the feline like he did his own dear children, the thought had never crossed his mind.

All Kael could do was sit in silence. This girl had figured him out pretty well. While he did genuinely want someone to watch after Pandora because he was quite often away for a few nights at a time if he passed out in his sanctuary, but because the tether between himself and his cat was rather strong; because he gave his own life force to save the kitten, a part of him lived in her. While he was immortal thanks to the Celestials, if Pandora was hurt or worse, he felt it. Almost like the cat understood what was going on, she sat up and let out a little mewl of happiness before jumping down into Keishara's lap, butting her head against the girls chin. There wasn't much more he wanted to know or ask, mostly because Pandora had clearly chosen this girl and there was no way the cat would go for someone else. The man didn't totally want to admit that looking after Pandora wasn't the real reason he'd come to find someone to share his house, but he couldn't tell the girl the real reason lest he want to void his contract. Still, at least this way he might remember to eat if there was someone else in the house. Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, more of his wavy copper hair falling over his shoulder - it was now quite clear he had a lot of hair and it was definitely not shorter than shoulder length - the man let out a soft sigh. He'd been quiet the whole time, letting the girl speak in favour of speaking himself. It wasn't out of the ordinary, but conversing with the living was a lot more infuriating than conversing with the dead. Or Pandora.
"People can still fall ill and die regardless of how much love you give them."
Speaking, finally, in his ghostly Irish voice, there was even less emotion in that small sentence than ever possible. Of course he spoke from experience, of his past, but the girl didn't need to know that. She didn't need to know that love drove him to the dreadful deeds he committed, only to watch everyone he loved dearly die anyway. Turning away and shutting his eyes, pain clear in his body language, he started a little when Pandora abruptly left the girl's lap to comfort her Master, sensing his pain.
"You're coming... No... We'd like you to come home with us." Changing his tone, going from giving the girl no choice to actually having one, Kaelan let Pandora climb back to her hiding spot before slowly standing up. Turning to walk to the door, a sharp meow made the man stop - he hadn't introduced himself yet.

"O-Oh... K-Kaelan. The name's Kaelan. But you can use 'sir' if that is more comfortable for you."
It was mumbled, but at least he hadn't been totally rude in the end as he stood by door, leaning a shoulder on the wall while he waited for the girl to make a decision or pack up her things.

These were not the kind of bars he'd feared he'd end up behind.

Well, they weren't bars at all, technically. They were walls. And prisons generally had walls too, equally difficult to penetrate. Probably quite similar to what you've find in a prison, give or take some wallpaper.

This wasn't a prison though, was the point. At least, not for criminals. At least -- not exclusively. He was a criminal, but that was beside the point, unrelated.

Mostly. Actually, if he hadn't been a criminal, he wouldn't have been in here at all, come to think of it.

Probably. He had no way of knowing.

But it was not a place for criminals.

It was a place for slaves. And that was an even more sobering thought than the alternative.

Prisons were bad. Horrible. Claustrophobic, your every movement regulated and monitored. No freedom, no life. But they weren't all that bad. If you were lucky -- which he happened to be -- you managed to stay under the radar, get through without too much trouble, maybe even make a few friends, and then you got out, and you moved on. Because that was the thing about prison, it wasn't forever. Not for his type of crime, at least. His record was clean -- you know, metaphorically or whatever. No blood, no dirty stuff. He hadn't stolen from any charities or soup kitchens or anything. Assuming they only managed to pin him with a single crime, he'd be out in a few years maximum for grand theft. Not a long time, for an elf. He wouldn't even be particularly resentful. He didn't like rules. He wasn't a rules kind of guy. But he understood them, they made sense. If there were no rules, well, he wouldn't be able to break them, and where would be the fun in that? -- but seriously, he understood the need. He wasn't an anarchist... he just didn't see the point in following rules you could get away with breaking.

This, though, there was no justice in this. He didn't deserve this -- he didn't know if he would have had it in him to judge that anyone did. Anything could happen here. Sure, maybe most just wanted someone to order around, do their every bidding without pay, with the understandings and capabilities of a person and the treatment standards of a pet; respect and common decency optional. Maybe a pretty or handsome face as a bonus. But then there were those who wanted sex slaves. Pets to fulfill their every fantasy, and his imagination was pretty limited there, but he definitely knew that wasn't something he wanted a part of. It got worse, though, because then what if he was just bought by a total psychopath? He could be looking forward to a painful and very, very short life, if he drew the attention of the wrong sort.

He didn't normally let his thoughts go down such grim paths, an optimist at heart, usually trusting in himself and the odds that everything would turn out okay... but he had to face it, this was definitely the tightest corner he'd ever found himself in. As much as he wanted to have faith that everything would turn out alright -- because his confidence in his ability to escape even the stickiest of situations was not unfounded -- there was still that little possibility that things could go horribly wrong, and having to wait around indefinitely in this little, excruciatingly boring room was giving him much more time to worry than he normally liked to have.

He'd been caught off the job, and thus didn't look particularly criminal at the moment-- not that he normally, like, advertised it. In fact, he barely looked sixteen, not that his actual maturity clashed especially with that impression-- just his intelligence. It was hard to stay clean in this day and age, when things such as slavery were socially acceptable, but somehow he'd remained young at heart. His clothes expressed more than a hint towards that nature, colors vibrant and style playful, relaxed. He'd whimsically worn a pair of loose cargo shorts over another pair of equally baggy pants, strapped tight from sagging off his hips by a cloth, sunset colored belt. It was concealed by a long, droopy turquoise cardigan, colorfully patched in places and rolled up to his elbows, over an old Power Puff Girls t-shirt. His arms had once boasted an impressive assortment of colorful candy bracelets, but those had been confiscated. Small parts, choking hazard, not recommended for those under four, you know.

He had a thick mane of chestnut red hair, as wayward as he, straight but scruffy, and currently bundled up in a haphazard bun, bangs left free. Two tiny, colored crystal studs pierced his right ear, near the tip. Even his socks were colorful -- mismatched, one proudly advertising Adventure Time.

If he'd known, yesterday morning, that an over-zealous security guard was going to snatch him out of an underground parking lot and turn him into a slave-trader, he would, perhaps, have dressed a bit more discreetly. Also parked at the curb. He wasn't exactly blending-- and he hadn't decided yet if that was a bad thing or not, but instinctively he really didn't feel like drawing attention just then, even if he knew it was his only way out of there, and it was bound to happen eventually. He just hadn't gotten his head around all of this yet. At the same time, he'd had way more time to dwell on it that he would have liked.

The room had been absolutely upturned within hours of arrival, every nook and cranny scoured for any weakness, anything he could use. Unfortunately, it was disappointingly troublemaker-proof; they'd thought of everything, and his first escape attempt was short-lived and uneventful. After he'd exhausted the possibility of escaping until he was released from these walls, he was left with... boredom.

It wasn't like what you imagined, from post-apocalyptic movies and stuff; creepy cages hanging from the ceiling and guards with whips and leering buyers. He had a bed to sleep in, and privacy. At least from an actual cage, though, he would have had something to look at, something to keep him occupied. He hadn't gone this long without WiFi access since he could remember, and he was bouncing off the walls. Less than forty-eight hours in captivity, not a single visitor besides food delivery, and he was losing it.

He'd made a tent fort from his bedsheets and the shower curtain. He'd doodled on the bathroom mirror and vanity extensively, choosing from a selection of toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner for his colors. He'd smudgily written a full j-pop album's worth of song lyrics on his huge window with his fingertip and breath, to remain invisible until some poor, doubtlessly very confused future occupant chanced to notice them. He'd bounced on the bed, growing less and less concerned about the possibility of being walked in on as the hours passed without company. He practiced handstands, sang until the lonely sound of his voice in that empty room felt depressing, and tried to learn beat-boxing.

He attempted, and failed, to dissect his bedside lamp, though he did accidentally succeed in getting it to stop turning on.

They really had thought of everything.

He was a master at daydreaming, but here, in captivity, his muse was sorely lacking, and the mood was all wrong. He was antsy and restless, and couldn't zone out properly.

Late morning of his second day of slavery found him sitting on the floor. Well, sort of. Technically, it might have been more accurate to say he was sitting on the wall, and lying on the floor, legs criss-crossed, arms flopped out to his sides and bright, chestnut red hair sprayed in a halo on the carpet around him, staring spacily up at the ceiling, willing it to become interesting. He wasn't even really nervous anymore. You couldn't be nervous when you were this bored.