A Change in Routine
inventrix‘s Let’s Pretend
Class is in Session
A Brief Reunion
inventrix‘s Unexpected Visitor
Lessons in the Dojo
inventrix‘s from RP logs
Education and Collars
Trouble in Paradise
inventrix‘s Mistakes were Made
He was, not to put too fine a point on it, confused and disoriented.
This morning, he’d been waiting in a cage at the slave market, ready to be sold, because his master – who was a bit of an asshole – was sick of him.
Then the crazy woman with the wide smile had grabbed him, assuring him that everything was fine, they were stealing him.
There’d been a rather wild moment where they tortured and threatened his master into passing his ownership over, the woman and her male companion grinning and acting like this was all a game.
And then his new owner had gotten shot and everything had gone sideways for a bit and the man had stopped smiling and then everything had gone even more sideways a few times. He wasn’t entirely clear on any of that until he and a third man who’d appeared at some point had been stuck on a porch, and the man had declared he was going to get cleaned up.
His new owner was bleeding, possibly to death, and this madman wanted him to get clean. He’d argued, but the madman was a teleporter, and he’d found himself physically moved – over and over again – into a bath until he’d relented and let himself be cleaned.
And finally, finally, a box on the wall had rung and the teleporter had agreed to take him to his new owner.
“Come in, come on.” She was being carried by a tall man with horns, and she looked wan but no longer dying. She gestured up to her door, somehow making it an invitation, and the telporter pushed him inside, like he wouldn’t have gone on his own.
The horned man set her down on a couch, where she proceeded to settle herself as if it were a throne. “Thank you, Apollo. Go back to Leo now.” Her voice went soft. “Take care of him for me, okay?”
He bowed and left, seemingly in a hurry.
She turned her attention to the teleporter next. “Namir, you’re not fired. Unless you want to be, in which case, you’re still not fired, but we’ll talk about it in a few days. Go home, get some rest.”
“Go home, get some rest.” Her voice was strained, but it still had steel behind it. “Try to stay away from Leo for a few days.”
He left. The woman gestured to the floor in front of her. He knew what that meant, and knelt there, facing her.
“Hey, kiddo. Sorry for the mess there.”
He bowed his head and didn’t answer. How did you answer that?”
“What’s your name?”
He cleared his throat. “Gwyn, Mistress.”
“Gwyn.” She chuckled. “Of course it is. Look at me?”
He looked up at her, pale and freckled, her shirt ripped open where the crossbow bolt had gone through her, but whole, uninjured.
“Yeah, I can see it. From Addergoole?”
“No… what’s Addergoole, Mistress?”
“Mmmn. A place you probably have antecedents. Anyway. Hello, Gwyn, nice to meet you. I’m Cya du’Red Doomsday, and you belong to me.”
“…Yes, mistress.” He swallowed. “Thank you.”
“‘Cya’ will do.” Her fingers ran around his bare neck. “Namir took that awful hawthorn collar off, I see.”
“I tried to stop him…”
“It’s all right, it saves me trying to Work hawthorn half-dead. It wasn’t on for long, then? I don’t see any blistering and only a couple pricks here and there.”
He shook his head. “The auction house requires it.”
“Of course they do. All right. Standing orders: don’t attack me or mine, do your best not to do damage to anything that belongs to me. Loose guidelines: Stay in the city, try not to get in too many fights. Those are breakable as needed for your safety, mine, or that of innocent bystanders.”
Gwyn blinked at her. “Mistress? Err, Cya?”
“I know what I’m doing, I assure you.” She winked. “I’m afraid showing you around and things are going to have to wait. Urrm. Why don’t you help me to my bedroom, and indulge me in a nap, and we’ll worry about the rest later?”
This day was definitely not turning out like he’d thought it would. “Yes… Cya.”
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