Slave Nation (Mass Acceptance & Enslaving)
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Almost Sparkles
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#1




OOC
- This thread is for anyone wanting to be enslaved in Tortuga, or people wanting to join as Sailors.

- For those wanting to be enslaved : Join the thread and state that you've been brought in by the slaves (most of which will be NPC's so feel free to make your slaver however you want) and you'll be bought by the Tortugans.

- For those wanting to be accepted : Join and state that you're a slaver looking for a permanent home, or just make up something about following them in hopes of finding a pack to stay in. 





The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone
Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind?
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue
"speech" | thoughts
 
Mako stood in the middle of the pass, the sea lapping at both sides of the natural land bridge as the Kraken waited for the slave caravan he'd been expecting. Strangest thing... a bird told him of their coming. He'd never seen the creature before but it seemed to be hanging around his new home and from what he could tell... she was extremely nosy. The thought of keeping her as a pet hadn't crossed his mind but if the day's events went well he was considering using her as a companion. She was just nosy enough that if he gained her loyalty, she might be a decent spy.

In the distance a group of creatures emurged from the forest and started out across the land bridge toward the Kraken. He straightened himself, hoping to be taken seriously even at his young age. Behind him sat the Crafter, Aysu, her bags heavy with trinkets and pelts. On the other side sat Vashe, one of the Surgeons, his bags full of healing herbs. He hoped Cider would show up and give the slaves the once over and help him set a fair price to pay for them. But he could understand if she was too busy with creating her new garden. They would need it. Perhaps Desdemona would show up too...

Mako waited patiently for the others to arrive, observing the slaves as they approached. He hated to say that his reason for buying slaves was spurred by paranoia. If Des became too loved by the Tortugans, she might win them over and force him out. They'd turn their backs on him... and he couldn't have that. His family built this empire and he'd do whatever he could to keep himself a part of it... even if that meant buying loyalty....

"Ahoy. I'm Mako, Kraken of Tortuga. Show me yer wares an' maybe we can make a trade."
 




[Image: makosharkplush1_by_arkyls-dak9646.png]

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[align=center][size=x-small][b][i]The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone
Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind?
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue[/i][/b][/size][/align]
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[align=center][color=#3366ff][b]"speech"[/b][/color] | [color=#ccccff][i]thoughts[/i][/color][/align]
 

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Quote:Fic Trash Rabbit: Baal picks Mako up and pets him aggressively "I shall call him... Mini Me"
Winchester: OMFG
Winchester: DR. EVIL AND MINI ME
Warning, this character suffers Bermuda Syndrome. His actions in no way reflect my personal opinions. If you have any concerns, feel free to PM me*
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Vesta She
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#2

Firedancing Slave of Tortuga         
[Image: www_gifcreator_me_ns9y6j_by_mykalablue-daz83kx.gif]  
"It is with our passions as it is with fire and water, they are good servants, but bad masters."
- Aesop



She came along with the rest of them, strung together like beasts to market.  That was exactly what they were, a commodity to be traded, bought and sold. She did not fight the leather thong that was wound around her neck. She knew it was pointless.  They were grouped together to keep them from running, and she would never be able to get it off in time to free herself from the group before one of their handlers noticed.  Early on some had tried, and failed, and their punishment had served as a warning to keep them in line.  Not even old enough to be full grown, the girl hardly had a chance. So she stayed meek, stayed passive, and had done her best to stay alive.

These traders were not the girl's first masters. Her first master had been a breeder, and she was raised in his stables like any bloodlined pet. He trained his stock to be to be purchased by the wealthy and powerful.  He trained her as a courtesan, taught to dance, to entertain, to serve her master and be a pretty pet.  The second to own her had been a cruel brute, and the  burn scar on her left shoulder was the brand of where his temper struck. A political fall had caused him to lose his power, wealth and status in his pack.  He sold his stock in hopes of regaining some of the wealth he lost.  So she had been bought by these traders, bound for a distant place far from where she had been raised.  But, she thought, not so different a life.  Still a slave, still a possession.  

"Ahoy. I'm Mako, Kraken of Tortuga. Show me yer wares an' maybe we can make a trade."


"A fine dayt'ya Sir!"  Said the trader captain, passing off his string to one of his underlings. "An' fine stock do I bring! Slaves for every occupation..."

He brought them forth a few at a time.  Bulky males, good for hard labor.  Breedable females, proven to increase wealth with their offspring.  Said offspring, barely old enough to travel.  Then the captain motioned, and the tether that held her was pulled, and her string was brought forward.  Like the others before, they were separated, trotted up one at a time while the trader explained the flaws and features of each prospect.  Standing towards the back of her line, Vesta was ambiguous, and could have easily been missed, had she not been  dragged forcefully to the forefront.

"Here'sa rare gem for ya, Sir, I say a real gem! Not tha flashiest o' coats in my possession, but certainly tha flashiest pedigree. A courtesan bred 'n born, from tha stables o' Baal-Ethelreda.  No need fer trainin', neither.  Docile as a doe. A rare gem indeed!"  He boasted.

"Young, and not at all prone to illness. One marring blemish, from a careless owner."

The trader lamented as he pointed out the scar on her shoulder. A nod to the trader holding her rope, and she was yanked along.  She knew the drill, and moved sedately around the circle, picking up the pace when she was told.  They wanted to see her move, so she'd move.

"But it doesn' affect her physically. Natural grace o'a wildcat, and trained as 'n illustrious firedancer!" the captain, continued, motioning them back towards where he stood.

He pulled her lead, yanking her uncomfortably close.  "With water eyes, besides.  Good luck ina place like this, hmm?"

This was in reference to the superstition that the eyes held power over the elements, and that holding slaves with certain colored eyes could ward against disasters.  It was a common enough practice elsewhere, but it was uncertain if it would be a selling point.  She certainly didn't think so, and diverted her eyes away from the face of the stranger, as if she could hide from his gaze by doing so.  The girl didn't like them talking about her like she wasn't there, but she wasn't about to speak up about it.  She knew better.

"Don't get tha likes 'oer oft'n. Can't say I will again, honest."






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The whole world trying, to tame the spark
But we've got fire, burning bright, hidden
Catch the shimmer of showering stars
The sky gets dimmer, and your light shows
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Kauā She/Her
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#3

Kauā inhaled the salty breath of the sea as she walked across the land bridge, digging her claws into the soft sand and leaving behind a set of footprints that were quickly trod upon by the line of slaves she led. The slaver gave a sudden tug on the leather lead that she held in her mouth, and she smirked when she heard a slave stumble and yelp behind her. She continued forward across the land bridge, and as she placed one foot in front of the other, she thought. The cream colored saber inhaled another breath of the ocean air, shifted the leather satchel on her back, and closed her eyes as the events of the prior months flew through her head.

Kauā had spent a number of solitary months in the land referred to as the neutrals, barely coming into contact with anyone as she roamed the woods looking for potential slaves. The saber discovered she had lots of free time to think, and her thoughts usually wandered to her dead father. Her heart would ache then, as she remembered him, teaching and protecting her. Kauā almost drove herself mad with the repressed grief as it invaded her soul, clawing at her thoughts like a persistent itch.

In a attempt to distract her mind, Kauā joined a group of slavers lead by a single wolf, a scraggly, sly man who's only strengths were his quick wit and honey tongue. Kauā usually stayed out of large groups for a number of reasons, usually because she found other slavers very annoying. But she needed the money, and a distraction from the grief, so she joined the group. They travelled towards the coast, capturing and buying slaves along the way, until they finally reached the sea.

Kauā watched as the forms of three wolves appeared on the land bridge, and as the slave caravan drew closer to them, she quickly looked them over, watching their movements. The boy she presumed to be the leader since he stood slightly in front of the others, let out a shout, telling the head slaver to show him his wares. The head slaver immediately replied and started showing off the slaves, displaying them in small groups or by themselves if they were a unusually fine specimen.

Kauā sat and watched the slave master present the goods after bullying another slaver to hold her lead. As she listened to him drone on about the slaves, her focus drifted, and she set her eyes upon the pirates they were selling to instead. Kauā saw the look of freedom they had to them, with their pelts gently blowing in the wind as they observed the slaves. The leader, though young, had a air of confidence around him, and the saber wondered how a boy could lead what she presumed to be a successful pack.

Kauā suddenly had the strong feeling to join them, and the saber almost shook her head when the thought popped into her brain. She was a loner, she shouldn't be joining any packs. The saber may be desperate to get away from the rest of the slavers, who were loud and annoying, but that didn't mean she needed to join another pack she knew nothing about. But it couldn't hurt to ask and see if they needed any more crew members, right? Kauā sighed and stood, mentally scolding herself for making such a sudden decision.

Kauā would make her way over to the group of purchased slaves, pushing any of them out of the way so she could talk to the person collecting them. The saber cat would firmly stand in front of them, look them in the eye and say, “Are you in need of any crew members other than slaves to work for you? Because I may be that crew member.”

(OOC: Sorry if this seems rushed, I had to write it on my free time while  camping.)
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Kyron he/him
born of sea salt and driftwood
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Location [IC]: Tortuga
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#4





It was simply because he knew something had changed.

Sea storms had ravaged the terrain he'd once lingered and lurked within, keeping as far from the masses as possible. But there was no one to salvage these ruins; in the distance, the remnants of smoldering fires plumed up in thick smoke. The stench of burnt corpses filled the air. Only the charred bones of ghosts remained in this immortal, indomitable domain of pirates. They've left.

This change prompted his return, his curiosity, that itch to figure out just how far these fingers of change stretched and claimed, revealing to him just how far he would step out from the shadows. The tall, leggy brute followed with an idle pace, his intrigue coupled with a reasonable pinch of caution as he trailed the scents of those that remained, the ones who'd left. From tropical coasts and cliffsides, the mutt found himself treading further up the coasts, before finding himself at an impassable strait. Well, not impassable, but surely guarded. Damn clever defense, he mused with a smirk on his maw as he clung to the shadows of massive palms, eyeing an odd bunch as they approached the pass and the trio that blocked their way.

One of them he recognized...

Ears perked and grin spread wide for those pearly whites, the brute borne of sea salt and driftwood strode with a jump in his steps up to the odd gathering of wolves and felines alike. Tipping his proverbial hat to the strange slavers - there may have been a wink in there - he sat a close but conscientious distance from the giant saber, eyeing the young female he had in tow. Her bandana brought pained memories of someone else, someone who wore and rocked a motherfucking fine bandana, but he'd smother that for another day. Instead he turned and faced this split boy, this Kraken, a knowing glimmer in his eye and a shine upon his teeth as the saber spoke beside him.

"Why yes, Master Kraken!" A bright, bold voice that spoke up and spoke out, never breaking eye contact, "Have you need of any extra crew members for this mighty fine island you got here?" Kyron's wit and humor would surely bite him squarely in the ass if Mako failed to remember him, but he'd rolled the dice and placed his bets.

Today was a fine day for a return.




ooc: n/a

text speech: #8e8322


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Emila (RP) she/her
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#5

The worn hybrid wrinkled her nose as she made her way through the Reach. This was where it had all began. El Dorado. A golden pack built upon the stench of the green swamps that she had used to evade her pursuers. Shaking some slime off a paw, Emila checked her reflection in a puddle before quickly making her way through the neutral lands. This land was still thick with the scent of her brethren. Pirates. Her time in Grimsthorpe had been fun but, in hindsight, it had been much too stately for her tastes. Being asked to have offspring with such a pathetic excuse for a "knight" had soured things during her last days there. Emila grimaced at her memory of them. She could not even remember their names, not even Brace - who she had once viewed as a favourite. As far as she was concerned, they no longer existed. It was a part of her life that she was just happy to dump in the Recycling Bin section of her brain. 

Upon scenting the familiar aroma of a gathering of wolves, Emila increased her pace somewhat. The scent did not belong to one pack - it was more or less a variety - so she wondered if she had stumbled upon a band of travellers. Although the idea of joining such a band did not appeal massively to her, it would allow her to put more distance between her and the feds... Or whoever the fuck they were. Self appointed lawmakers of the Straits always had a tendency to ruin her fun. 

"Ahoy. I'm Mako, Kraken of Tortuga. Show me yer wares an' maybe we can make a trade."

The voice rang out just as Emila's green eyes scanned various wolves that made up the gathering, some visibly healthy and glossy while others looked like they had had an unpleasant encounter with a mammoth. All cuts and bruises. Slaves. She felt no compassion for such creatures. If you were stupid enough to get caught, you were only good as cannon fodder. Although it was meant to have stirred memories for her, Tortuga was an unfamiliar name. Kraken was also a strange title - she had always been used to Captain - but she only gave a mental shrug and approached Mako with a cunning smirk. 

"Ahoy, Kraken of Tortuga. I'm Emila," the seasoned pirate introduced herself. "You may not know it yet, but I'm kind of a big deal. There's no inch of piracy I'm not a stranger to, especially when it comes to making things mine. Like slaves, for instance."

True, she had only stolen inanimate objects thus far but it was never too late for an old pirate wolf to learn a new trick.




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Tunes of seduction
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The notes soft as honey
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Toth She
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#6

(she's gonna be enslaved :3c)



[Image: f2u_divider___flowers_by_danisaesthetics-dc9jq1n.png]


[Image: black_planchette_by_lacrimon-dat6v8k.png]
#e48400
Well this world is a cold one
But it takes one to know one
And God only knows what you are


The rope around her neck was far too tight, but her captors were still weary of her, the way she just instantly gave herself up to them, didn't fight them as she was ripped away from her home, and pushed into a mass group of other slaves. They were right to hold onto that fear.

As ocean waves crashed ceaselessly against the rocky coastline of the land bridge, bodies packed together and words were screamed over the howling sea. A prickle started in her spine as bi-colored eyes glanced down at the watery depths below, her stomach turned with disgust as the sea soaked air filled her nostrils. There were figures ahead, a young boy crested them, his gaze rolling over all the slaves as he welcomed the slavers to his port.

The pale female would spot a little spitfire girl, the one who held her lead, describing her like some sort of bartering piece. She was far too young, what a shame. Toth was snapped back into reality with a hard yank of her own lead. Bi-colored eyes trailing down to the rope, though her face remained vacant. A hollow smile upon her muzzle as those eyes of her's bounced from the young male to the older one.

"Good'ay 'n blessed be ya travels, sahs!" Came the slaver's accented words, his scarred face flashing them a wide grin as he yanked Toth forward and then halted her with an extended paw. "I've got'ah lil knife for yah. Juss caught this'en less then'ah few days ago. Boys say she's some kindah witch or some'en. Speaks en tongues en ah like. " His red eyes looked from them back to her, looking her over for any cuts of scarring. "Lil small, but that'sah breed, a timbah I think.  She's in dandy'ol condition. More'en capable tah do any work for ya." She glanced away and a hard yank was what she was rewarded with, her attentions back upon the boy and the older male. Pushed aside by a large saber cat and another female. They called him Kraken, how strange, she expected a god to rise from the sea. but instead all she saw was a boy. "I'd be willin' tah partah with'er for one of them pelts."

Worth a pelt? Was that all? She blinked absentmindedly, though within she burned. "Tell'em yah name, lil knife." His words burned in her ears, rip off the rest of his face, you know how. Her body screamed and she felt a beast within her belly raking its claws angrily against her ribs. "Toth." Came a soft, sugary reply instead of the howling, bestial cry that so desperately wanted to escape her.  





This wretched mischief is now coursing through your souls
Never to let go
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#7


The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone
Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind?
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue

"speech" | thoughts
 
The group neared him and he eyed them all carefully, watching for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. The first slaver approached and began talking up his slave. Mako had never seen a slaver from the outside before but he was certain that this guy was the best he would ever see. He knew exactly what to say the catch the Kraken's attention and by the time he'd finished his speil, Mako was grinning, eyes narrowed at the slave. He wanted her. "Aye, she'd be a fine addition. How does two pelts and a croc skin pouch sound?" He was willing to give more for her, but he was curious as to how the slaver would handle the current offer.
The next was a saber, requesting to join Tortuga. Mako eyed him over, tilting his head as he considered. The creature looked to be in good condition and he was already versed in his job; versed to the outside world. "Aye," he nodded slowly. "I've room for ye."
Mako's eyes drifted from the saber to a familiar form. At first he froze, trying to decide whether or not he should openly say that he knew Kyron from when he was little. He choose to keep it quiet for the time being. He spoke loud and clear, making himself known. Mako nodded, the hint of a grin playing on his lips. "I have a place for ye. Matter o'fact... I'd like ye ta meet with me later," he said, turning his attention back to the slave caravan.
Orange eye cut over to Emila, blue eye following blindly but they both narrowed as she spoke. "So, yer a big deal, eh? What makes ye so?" Surely she had a reason for making such a big claim and he was curious to hear it.
The last was a slaver with a thick accent, the likes Mako had never heard before. He didn't flourish his words quite like the first slaver did and he only wanted one pelt for his slave. Mako nearly laughed but instead he stood and approached the slave. "One pelt for ye. Tell me, what do ye think yer life is worth, hm?"




[Image: makosharkplush1_by_arkyls-dak9646.png]

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[align=center][size=x-small][b][i]The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone
Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind?
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue[/i][/b][/size][/align]
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[align=center][color=#3366ff][b]"speech"[/b][/color] | [color=#ccccff][i]thoughts[/i][/color][/align]
 

[/customsoftbox]


[/customsoftbox]
Quote:Fic Trash Rabbit: Baal picks Mako up and pets him aggressively "I shall call him... Mini Me"
Winchester: OMFG
Winchester: DR. EVIL AND MINI ME
Warning, this character suffers Bermuda Syndrome. His actions in no way reflect my personal opinions. If you have any concerns, feel free to PM me*
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Vesta She
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#8

Firedancing Slave of Tortuga        
[Image: www_gifcreator_me_ns9y6j_by_mykalablue-daz83kx.gif]  
"It is with our passions as it is with fire and water, they are good servants, but bad masters."
- Aesop
[Image: 7316073_5MGA72d6LUs8kCR.png]



She watched the Kraken out of her preferential, keeping her eyes downcast to avoid locking her gaze with his. His maw curved into a grin, and she knew that her handler had him on the hook.  Now it was just a matter of price.  Vesta stood beside her handler, the lead between them slack.  A taunt line may be viewed as resistance, and so she kept enough in it for him to see the bough. If she had not, it was possible the young king may not be as interested.  She was a creature of pedigree, of prestige.  Her mother had been a favorite of the Baal's, and Vesta's original price at auction had been a fortune.  She wasn't used to traveling with working slaves, and it had only been her master's desperation that had landed her in this mess in the first place.  The little firedancer was tired of these slavers, tired of living it rough strung together with this ragtag band.  So she stood with slack in the line, doing anything to subtly encourage his bid.  Easy enough for the grass to be greener when all she'd been doing was trudging through the mud.

"Aye, she'd be a fine addition. How does two pelts and a croc skin pouch sound?"

"Ah ha!  A good offer, ta' be sure. For a regular pretty, a good, sound price."

The slaver exclaimed, pleased to have found someone who threw out the number first.  If slavers loved anything, it was haggling.  Vesta wanted to roll her eyes as he cocked his head, as though considering. He pretended to think, but was not silent for very long. Shaking his head, he began his feint of regretful disagreement.

"But for tha Ethelredan girl... With all her trainin', she's worth more than tha.  I certainly could sell 'er on auction and get her value, with some extra journeyin'..."

He glanced sideways at her, but Vesta kept her head down, refusing to look at him as he leered at her.  This slaver had just come from a market, and the next one was far away.  If he didn't sell her here, he'd have to travel further.  Trader 101: unload your wares with the least amount of effort and the most amount of return.  He had not gone further into the territory of the Baal's, nor traded with any of his generals, but had come this direction instead.  They had found small packs on the frontier, easy pickings for his raiders.  They had snatched slaves like greedy children took unattended candy. A mistake, he realized.  He had not brought enough hands, had not accounted for so many mouths.They had run out of provisions a day ago, and if he didn't make a few sales and lower his numbers, they wouldn't be able to keep all his wares corral-ed long enough for a proper hunt shift.  More cost effective to keep his men than one expensive slave girl.  They had even joined a caravan of travelers to help share the work, but it would not be enough.  He was more desperate to sell than he let on.  

"Tell'ya what I'll do fer ya, Lord Kraken, since I like ya so much.  I'll give ya this lil' prize at your steal of'n offer, if you'll raise it to include rations for me and mine.  My wheel must keep a turnin', and a full belly goes a long way in soothin' the heartache of a light purse, Aye?"

If The Kraken decided to pass her by, the slaver would have to sacrifice some of his other wares in order to keep her fed and looking presentable enough for the next auction.  While she was valuable, he would have more chances with a variety of buyers than betting on one auction. Vesta stole a glance through half-hooded eyes at Mako, wondering if he would accept.







         Profile ⚶ played by EhwazAzi
The whole world trying, to tame the spark
But we've got fire, burning bright, hidden
Catch the shimmer of showering stars
The sky gets dimmer, and your light shows
vixxie's codes







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Toth She
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#9
(This post was last modified: May 30, 2018, 02:38:35 AM by Toth.)



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[Image: black_planchette_by_lacrimon-dat6v8k.png]
#e48400

Her attention drifted once more as the boy threw around his words, golden and blue eyes looking at the ocean waters that lapped at the sides of the land bridge. She wondered if when the tide came in it drowned this small scrap of land, and then silently prayed that it had.

She turned slightly when the younger girl's slaver spoke again, his accent almost as harsh on her ears as the oaf that held her lead. Eyes traveled up to the boy and she snorted at the greed that stretched his face into an ugly, impish grin. What a greedy thing, what a wicked boy. But one would have to think, Toth, isn't that a little hypocritical?

Where Vesta's slaver took pride in his catch, his little prized chip. Toth's wanted nothing more to be rid of her and her little tricks and shadowy words. There was a metaphorical veil that draped her, and it seemed like he was able to pick up on it despite how fair tempered she'd been thus far. If Vesta was a gem, she'd be a ruby, while Toth would be obsidian or opal. Multi-faceted, the perfect storm.

The boy hopped down from his rock on high, the movement caught her attention and she could see the way he sneered at her, they all thought it. Some slaves were just worth more than others, I'm afraid. He came to a stop, towering over her, but she didn't shy away from him., the woman's keen gaze studying his face. There was that obnoxious tug as her slaver bowed his head happily at the outcome of their transaction.

Spoke, his voice a smooth rumble, like the far off echoes of thunder. Her lips tugged upward and she offered him a sweet smile, stepping forward toward him to close the distance between them. Personal space and rank meant very little to her, even now when her life hung in the jaws of a whelp. "Careful, that seems like a loaded question to me, doesn't it to you?" Her head tilting slightly, her voice a whisper against the roar of waves that collided with the rocks. She was here now, she belonged to this sea soaked place, what did it matter what she thought she was worth? Toth was one of many in the grand ol scheme of the Empire, their Empire.

She challenged him then with her own question. "Why do they call you Kraken?" It was asked as softly as her previous remark, dipped with actual curiosity. Though the boy might take it as an offhanded attempt to wound his pride, ah well.





This wretched mischief is now coursing through your souls
Never to let go
« profile played by: waka »



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Kyron he/him
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#10
(This post was last modified: May 31, 2018, 03:04:39 AM by Kyron.)





Others filed in, one after another, after the brute had decided to show up.

With a quirky face and a curious eye he'd glance them over, giving them a good one-two before summing up his own interpretations. There was miss big-shot with the feathers in her hair, whom Kyron couldn't tell whether he was amused by or annoyed with. An interesting conundrum. But with a roll of his shoulders his burning golden gaze settled upon the wee pale girl, bound by rope and at the whims of her master. Though he kept that wisecrack grin intact, there was a twinge tugging at him. When she was summoned forward, like the fire girl before her, Kyron shifted his forelegs as he thought better of approaching the offering. This was between the alpha and the trader, he knew, but still.

But as Mako turned and noticed his grand old great-uncle, that wicked sneer spread wide on his thick maw, teeth poking out through blackened gums. "I have a place for ye. Matter o'fact... I'd like ye ta meet with me later," A dramatic dip of the head into a deep bow and the fringe mutt clicked his tongue in jovial response, "Well now, who'd I be to deny the Kraken's request, hm?" It took all but his entire strength of will not to wink at the boy, "Guess you'll see me there~"

Only after the leader turned and continued on his merry way, judging the recruits and offerings alike, did Kyron stand back up, straightening himself out. If someone dared to pay close enough attention they might just see a twitch in his grin, wide and welcoming as it is. His gaze once again settled on the tiny timber girl, the one with double-blessed eyes. Slavery was the way of the world, no matter where one went, but it didn't all have to be the same. At least, it didn't have to be what he'd experienced. It could be different. Better.

With a deep inhale, the new Tortugan approached as Mako came up to the girl who'd quietly called herself Toth. While the Kraken brought forth his own inquiries, the elder of the group eyed the girl, studying her actions, her reactions, her cues. She couldn't have been captive for long, like her handler had said, with how she disregarded the subtle calls for humility and submission. Instead she maintained eye contact and drew closer to those around her, including the Kraken himself. And then she spoke.

Gods he had to refrain from laughing, it took everything he had just to maintain his current face. Curious as to how Mako would react, and partially worried the girl had just landed herself in a world of hurt, Kyron bounced up, this time letting out a wickedly bemused bout of laughter as he came up, becoming that terrible third wheel. "They call him Kraken, dear girl, 'cause where we're from they're the demonic beasts that lurk the shadows, snatching the damned and pulling them kickin' and screamin' to their deaths!" The volume and frill in his voice made it out as the grandest of tales. This was a show, after all, for the recruits, merchants, and inbound slaves alike.

With a quick glance to Mako he'd continue, a bit quieter this time, "This Toth here has got some bite, no wonder she's called knife," A quick glance to the girl in question, "If you ain't got any plans for her, I'm sure I can put her to use..." A lulled shrug of his shoulders, smothering down any subtle anxieties over whether he even had the right to try and claim a slave. But this was a need. A yearning. For a moment, as his eyes turned over to the pale little girl, one might even have seen pity. Empathy.

Might have.




ooc: n/a

text speech: #8e8322


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Emila (RP) she/her
Almost Sparkles
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#11

Of course, there always had to be some legitimacy when one boosts like Emila. Except the pirate wolf had experience to back up her claims, not like the slaves or the tenderfoot that had to use said slaves to prove they could take something of value. She did not flinch when Mako's eyes narrowed. She knew the Kraken was merely sizing her up, trying to figure her out. Rita had always given her the same gaze whenever she had spoke about her exploits. It had been discouraging at the first but the elder wolf had merely put it down to jealousy, even though the true message behind them was quite clear: you're full of shit.

Except Emila had a reputation to uphold. She merely raised an eyebrow when Mako spoke.

"So, yer a big deal, eh? What makes ye so?" 

The answer - to Emila, at least - was obvious. "For starters, I've been at this game for years, Kraken, and I know it's not just these slaves you want," she told him, looking around at the pitiful creatures. "I won't lie, they're very handsome and thoughtful gifts... when they're not snacking on your grub. We both know my claim cannot be backed up by even more claims and that this little setup you have going is far more worthier of that, so why don't you give me a little test? Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you. I think the most important code in piracy is to make what is another's yours, and that's something I'm extremely good at."

With that, she showed off her trinkets with clear pride. They had been stolen years ago from various human villages that used to inhabit the land around her and Rita's home. It had been something of a competition between the two, to steal as many valuables as they could. Emila suspected she was a bit rusty after a few years of being on the run from mercenaries, so this was an ideal opportunity to get back on the bike again.




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Tunes of seduction
Filling the air so sweet
The notes soft as honey
Blessed this fiddler be
vixxie's codes
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