Eternal Rome: A Slave's life M

[Cfavano]

The Motor-cart trundled through the tunnel as the riders were jolted to wakefulness. The sedatives that they had been pumped full of finally are wearing off, and one of the first sensations they feel is the sold air as they find they are naked head to toe. To further they re wearing thick iron collar, and their arms and legs are manacled. Packed tightly, they are, not one bit able to move. Several begin chattering, but none can understand them, for being from different worlds, they speak different languages. A bright light temporarily blinds their still weary eyes as they leave the tunnel, and when their eyes adjust, it is a breathtaking sight.

For now they see Rome. Hover vehicles fly overhead in the massive sky-ways, people walks along bridges that span the gaps between the massive, sky-piercing buildings, all lit up with lights. Bright images dance along the gigantic holo-billboards advertising this or that, though, they were illegible to the riders. It made one think about how small they really are. Someone started sobbing.

They approached a rather nondescript sky-building, at least compared to the others lost invisible against the night sky, had its surface not been reflective. It was a massive pyramid composed of black marble, with the glint of golden mortar between the stones. Both opulent and austere, for no sign or art marked its mirrored surface. As the carriage trundled inside an entrance, the smell of shit and filth assailed their nose, as pens lined the walls, with humanoids, chained in them, of various ages, races, genders, and colors, naked as the day they were born.

With a sudden jerk, the carriage stopped, and guards undid the hatch at the back, and tugged on the chain that connected them all, barking orders they couldn't understand, but whenever one wasn't fast enough, they got a lash, and then it was made clear. It was then that they realized there was more than one carriage, there were seven, all laden heavily. One by one, they were disconnected from the chain-gang, and attached to moving conveyor belt of overhead hooks, pulling them along with their arms up, barely able to keep their footing on the ground. One saw his chance and broke free of the guard, trying to make a break for the entrance. There was shouting and a guard levels his rifle and, with a bang that would startle those unused to gunfire, the man's leg exploded from the knee down. He fell and howled horribly in pin s he held his destroyed leg, but was simply dragged off.

The hooks pulled them into another chamber, where they were disconnected...then the washing began. It was awful, impersonal, rough. Their hair and nails were clipped, body hair was shaven, skin washed with coarse soap and high pressure cold water, they were cleaned inside and out, then came the cosmetics to make their cheeks and lips appear fuller, or their muscles more defined, their skin oiled up and shiny. Finally, something slimy was forcibly inserted into their right ear, and they could feel it wriggling for a few moments before it was still. A changed happened, they could suddenly understand the staff as they talked to each other, as orders were given to them.

Suddenly, they were forced into a crowded room as many people examined them, touching them and poking and prodding them. One by one they were lead to a podium under armed guard...nd to those who understood it, they were auctioned off.

The ones that were bought were loaded into the back of airtrucks, chained, and were driven away One group arrived at their destination, a group containing, of all things, a former member of royalty. They were kept in a cage at first, for a few hours. They were finally allowed food, dehydrated meat and powdered milk, but it was better than nothing.

One by one they were lead into a large gallery, with sevral workstations;

A car needing fixed, a spinning wheel and loom, a series of file cabinets and a desk with files that needed sorting, instead of letters there were symbols, a small kitchen area with fully stocked pantry, small dance floor with musicians at the ready, a selection of musical instruments and a stool, a facsimile of a room needing cleaning, a large man with a wooden sword and a collects of wooden weapons opposite him, and a man and a woman, naked in a bed, relaxing, waiting for something.

Only one simple instruction is given...Do Something.

[Argon Jaden]

Gray-blue eyes squeezed shut as he tucked his head to his knees. The entire ordeal was awful. He missed home, missed his father's, his siblings and the small ice berries they'd pick during frozen summer. The pale youth nibbled his lower lip nervously, shying away from contact is his fellow captives tried to talk. It all sounded like gibberish to him. He remembered the war, the harsh flames and the smell of blood in the air. Lumi visibly shuddered.

Just then, they were forced out, and he kept on his toes, head bent down,though his eyes peered cautiously at those around them. Horror was painted on his hidden expression, but he trudged on, swallowing the taste of bile thickly. The bath did very little to ease his anxiety as fingers pulled and probed, scrubbed and rubbed. The rest of it was a whirlwind of nausea before he finally managed to gather his wits. This destination was a cage, similar to the one he was tossed in. Lumi watched as prisoners (slaves, doesn't really make a difference) we're dragged out one by one. When it was his turn, he managed to stumble at least six times, knees trembling and he weakly tugged himself away.

Lumi looked left and right, taking a step back as he took in his surroundings. He wanted to cry, wanted to return to the safety of his cozy home. A small sniffle broke past his lips, but he pushed it down, opting to walk towards the stack of papers. He didn't want to approach the man with the swords, and unless he was washing the dishes, he was off-limits in the kitchen. Then, there were those... People lying in that bed that completely sent chills up his spine. It hasn't really sunk in yet, but as his fingers touched the first parchment, tears dripped down his face.

He was scared, completely terrified, but despite that, he was visibly clenching his jaw, refusing to let the tears fall any further assistance he stared intently at the letters. If these were to be organized, then, there must be an instruction manual, or to whom. Anything for him to distinguish what went where at least. Finally, he decided to just group them by symbols, all while looking for something to help him decipher the words. Tears bit at the corners of his eyes, but he pulled them back.

"This goes... Here?" He murmured softly to himself, shaking the emotions off to one side so he could focus on analyzing what was in front of him. He can cry about all this later, when he's alone.

[lain]

Alessia

The air in Rome seemed hostile, cold, and afraid. The lights of the city flashed happily, but it was a hollow happiness. How could this place even exist? How was this city the center of all the worlds when it was so incredibly horrid? Slaves were poked and prodded like cattle, stripped of their clothes and all dignity alongside that. Most had a dejected and ashamed expression. Save for one young Elven woman. Through the stripping of her clothes, the beating, the washing, the invading of all personal space, she held a dignified expression, mentally making a note of all the people that were wronging her. She did not turn her head down, but held it high. She was determined to not be broken by these monsters. Her people had called her a monster when a place like this existed? Preposterous.

Emerald eyes scanned the dark and dingy place from a cell, through the bars. A slaver, she assumed, walked up to her cell and looked her up and down before asking her name.

"Alessia," the young Elf replied, leaving her surname out of it. Likely, it wouldn't matter, anyway. The man nodded and wrote something down, walking away at least for the moment. Shortly after, a dish of dehydrated food was given to her through a slot in the door. It looked less that appetizing. Alessia had never been less hungry. She stepped back with a grimace, holding her nose.

"Ugh..." she cringed, now holding her arms over her bare chest and looking around for some kind of cover. A blanket, curtains, anything! There was nothing. They had even chopped off her long golden locks, so she couldn't hide behind that either. She reached up and felt her hair. It was so short... She was sure she looked abhorrent. But, so did everyone else.

Looking down at the ground, she saw a small puddle. She dropped onto her knees and peered over it, seeing her reflection. What she was was a porcelain skinned, emerald eyed, Elven woman with chopped off hair. She flared her nose and huffed at her reflection, resisting the urge to splash the puddle. Doing so would only splash water on herself, though, she reasoned.

"Hmph..." she stood up again, folding her arms to cover herself somewhat. Perhaps she shouldn't have sent so many people to the gallows for simply saying they didn't like her or her mother.

"No. They all deserved it. Disobedient swine." she thought, shaking her head slightly, "I don't deserve to be here for giving them what they basically asked for."

These people thought they would break her by taking her clothes and chopping her hair. It would take more than that. Much more; and Alessia intended to escape here before they figured out what would break her. She only needed to wait for the right moment.

Absentmindedly, Alessia let a small amount of magic leave her clenched fists in the form of a glowing light. She was picturing conjuring a knife and stabbing the guard outside her cell. But, now was not the time. There were far too many people around.

Eventually, the light faded and a look of realization came upon her face as she looked around again. She would never be alone again. There might not ever be a 'right time'. That musing irritated her, so she grabbed the bars of her cell and glared at everyone outside with gritted teeth. What she saw continuously were slaves being beaten and pushed around until blood would appear. Then, somehow, the slaves would find the understanding and strength to do what they were being told. She watched with a lack of empathy for them, assuming they deserved every strike and blow even as they whimpered, her eyes cold and judgmental.

With another grunt, she pushed away from the bars and then sat on the ground, pulling her knees into her chest and locking her arms around them so that she would be covered. She felt the leering eyes of men on her, no doubt picturing her doing things to them that she would rather not think of. She would rather die, she concluded. Or, more likely, kill them first. These people had no idea who they were dealing with.

A smirk slowly curled onto Alessia's features, "Just wait. You will all see. I will be running this place in a month."

No sooner did that thought cross her mind, than was her cell barged into and she was escorted to, yet another, place. She saw what looked to be a training area for battle, an entertainment area for musicians, and... another 'entertainment' area. Alessia wrinkled her nose at the notion when suddenly she noticed a boy. He was pale like her, but not quite Elvish. He looked terrified. He tried to hide it, but it was plainly written on his face and in his body language.

As she pondered his existence, she was shoved towards the stations, the slavers implying that she was to show off some kind of skill. She rolled her eyes, thinking of how they did not deserve to see such skills. But, she would have to oblige at the moment. They could be asking her to do worse things, she figured. As she walked by the boy who was upset and towards the weapons station, she whispered to him, "Weakling. You cry, they'll give you a reason to cry that's worse than the first reason you were crying. Show them nothing. They don't deserve to see us broken."

When she reached the weapons station, she picked up a bow and quiver, slinging the quiver into her bare back-- which felt very strange. No matter, she readied an arrow and shot a bulls-eye on the practicing target with seemingly no effort. She looked back with a quirked brow at her captors. They seemed mildly impressed at the feat. At that, she smirked and readied another arrow.

Standing tall and graceful with a rather proud expression, she let another arrow fly. It split the first in half straight down the shaft, causing the wood of the arrow to curl outwards in splinters.

"What do I get for that? Perhaps a tunic for my naked body? Perhaps food that doesn't look and taste like fecal matter?" She asked, attaching the bow to the quiver on her back and turning to face them, "Or do I simply get to keep living?"

[Blazing Falcons]

Sparrow's eyes took in everything. Other slaves, so many of them cowering and sobbing, breaking down emotionally in immediate acceptance of their fates. And that one that tried to escape acted so incredibly stupidly. Sparrow would bide time for now, but not without giving his captors hell.

And give them hell he did. Everywhere they forced him to go, every treatment they'd forced on him thus far, were not without the air around him being filled with obscene language, hand gestures, and spitting. In fact, one of the few times he wasn't swearing or spitting was when his face was being washed, in which case his offensive gestures multiplied greatly. Despite his intentions to flip off everyone and everything, the occasional knife-hand was sent towards someone instead, the middle finger being pointed right between the eyes of whoever it was directed at as though it were guided by a laser.

A room full of "vocational" props. One station in particular not only spoke to Sparrow, it demanded his attention. A big man with a wooden weapon with a bunch of others offered to anyone that dare confront him. A staff caught his eye. It could be a little like pugil sticks training. He shoved past a smaller, less decisive slave and grabbed for the staff, not taking his eyes off his soon-to-be-opponent. Upon standing up straight again, his stance was casual for just a moment, and then he charged with a ferocious battle cry.

[AngelDellaNotte]

Waking up Alice, had the strangest feeling in her head, it felt like she was experiencing being drunk and hung over at the same time. She was loopy, her head hurt and she felt like she was going to vomit. Wherever she was rocked back and forth as if moving, doing nothing to help how she already felt. She was pressed up against on all sides. It took a few moments to realize it was other people. There was a woman pressed against her back and she was smashed against a huge man's back. The next thing she noticed were the restraints on her and the fact that no one was wearing any clothes. Before she could even begin to think about what the heck was going on the vehicle came to a stop, bright light blinding her as she felt a tug on her chains seeing she was bound to the man and woman. The tug came from the woman's side as they were forced out of the vehicle. The woman before her was quite a bit older and seemed to have a hard time keeping the pace with her chains, she stumbled falling to the ground. Without really thinking Alice stopped to help her up.

The woman was barely to her feet when Alice felt a burning sensation across her back. Letting out a hiss she looked over her shoulder seeing a guard holding a bloodied whip and shouting at her but she couldn't understand him. When she didn't move he raised the whip again striking it against her back once more. Alice got the message and started moving again doing her best to help the old woman. After a short distance of walking she was unhooked from the old woman and the huge man. The old woman was first to be hooked to the conveyor belt and was so short she just hung there her toes barely dragging on the ground. Alice on the other hand was tall for a Vothastani woman and was able to walk normally though the pace was fast and having her hands forced above her head pulled on the whip marks on her back.

She could feel the blood running down her back and to her legs. Not far from her she saw a man try to escape and was shot then dragged off. The lashes on her back didn't seem all that bad now. In the next room they were hosed down and scrubbed with brushes. It felt like they were scrubbing so hard it would rip the skin right off her. Once all the grim was off her body she was forced to the ground laying on her stomach. Both her hands were pinned above her head as more soap was poured onto her hands and they were scrubbed more. Good luck getting that grease off of her finger nails, and the skin around them. It was so caked on it might as well of been tattooed on. While the guards worked on her hands she barely noticed another come up behind her with a jar of green gel. He knelt next to her taking a scoop of that gel and wiping it along the lash marks on her back. It burned as it touched her but Alice didn't cry out in pain she merely gritted her teeth.

The guards working on her hands seemed to give up gesturing to a woman with a makeup case. She came over looked at Alice's hands and shook her head pulling out a bottle of tan colored polish. The woman coated Alice's nails hiding a good amount of grease but the edges were still black. She tended to Alice for several minutes. Alice wasn't the type to really wear makeup and felt strange by the time she was finished. She wondered when the last time she had ever been this clean was. The guards shoved something into her ear but there was nothing she could do to stop them. Yet another strange feeling but when it finally subsided Alice looked at the makeup woman who said, “Suppose that is the best I can do.” Alice was surprised that she could understand the woman a moment ago she had been talking gibberish. She was about to ask how when the woman waved her hand and the guards pulled her into another room.

People in fine clothes swarmed her, all of them touching her and examining her like she was a prize animal at a fair. She could see others being pulled off to a podium where they were bid upon. She was a prize animal at a fair. Alice recalled reading about this in history classes. Both the Vothastani and the Coswilan had abolished slavery a century ago but at one time they had markets just like this. Alice finally realized she was being sold as a slave. Letting that sink in she lost focus of all the people poking at her until she felt someone come up behind her and grabbed her rear. The hands moved up to the lash marks on her back tracing down them. Whatever the green gel was dulled some of the pain and she noticed she wasn't bleeding anymore. The person moved around to the front of her and she could see that it was a woman. The woman grabbed her hands looking at the scars on them then tracing the outline of the grease around her nails. She scratched at the polish flaking a bit off and seeing the grease there. A smile crossed her face as she dropped Alice's hand, her own moving up to cup her breasts. She squeezed at them and traced her fingers around the nipples making Alice take a deep breath before she pinched each one. Alice hissed again but did not cry out in pain. “Vhat are yoo doing?” Alice said, her voice throaty and crisp, sounding heavy on the consonants as she pronounced each word individually.

The woman stepped away from Alice and looked over to one of the guards standing next to them. The guard stepped forward and back handed Alice, splitting her lip open. “Do not address your superiors.” The guard chided. Alice just stood there and took the blow not even looking at the guard but instead to the woman who smiled and nodded her head. She stepped closer to Alice wiping her finger across the blood on her lip then used that same finger to push her head to the side looking at something on her collar. The woman jotted something down on a sheet of paper then walked away leaving a blood smeared finger print on Alice's cheek. Alice reached up to the collar feeling it and realizing there was something etched onto it. She was thrust to the podium where she was auctioned liked the others then moved to another vehicle.

When she finally stopped being dragged from place to place she ended up in a small cage barely enough room for her to stand and take a couple steps. She had been locked away before actually had spent the last several weeks in a Coswilan cell eating meager rations like this but at least the Coswilan had given her clothes. It felt like hours later when she was finally let out of the cage after much pacing back and forth much like she had done in the Coswilan brig. She was led a large room with all kinds of strange set ups in it. She noticed the beds with the equally naked men and women on them though they looked like they were treated far better than she had been. She could see that the man was well endowed and looking to be ready to go while the woman was equally impressive and voluptuous.

Her eyes scanned the room hearing the guard say, “do something” and then stopped on the car. She walked toward a car, it wasn't like the normal cars she was used to. It was more slick looking and coated with armor. She traced her hand along the side of it until she reached the hood noticing what looked like a gun mount. Sitting down in the driver's seat she saw instead of a place for a key there was merely a push button. Stepping down on the break she pushed the button but the car only made a crunching hiss sound. She got out of the car and popped the hood instantly seeing why, who ever had put the engine together was an idiot. “Vhat did Coswilan apes assemble dis vhile blindfolded?” Alice said aloud, then dug into a tool box next to the car. Several hours later the grease that had been washed off her was back. Alice stepped back from the car and went to wipe her hands on her pants remembering that she was still naked. She had never worked on a car in the nude before. Shrugging and strangely getting used to being naked she sat down in the car again pushing the button, the car purring to life with a roar.

[Ushima]

They didn't find him. He found them. Turan Kirkmun would not go quietly. The angry quarter orc was dragged in kicking and screaming. "Lok'tar Ogar!" Several times his captors thought to just put him down. That he wasn't worth the effort to drag in to the auction. Eventually they managed to subdue him and drag him in. A needle was stuck into his neck and he was pumped full of something he couldn't identify. It only served to rile him up even more, struggling against his restraints. They stuck him again and this time the crazed man fell silent. No more sharp gnashing teeth and loud curses. Another one for the market was tossed into the cart and hauled off to be sold.

By the time the cart stopped he was already awake. He had been stripped of his clothes and was packed in with other people. Someone was pressed against his back, female from what he could tell. But he had more pressing matters. They were being dragged out and into a large building, a large black marble pyramid with golden accents that did little to impress him. He was used to simpler things. By his restraints he was hooked to a moving conveyor belt. One man took a chance at freedom and ran but he was taken out almost immediately. He thought the man a fool. Of all times to attempt to flee now was possibly the worst. Guards were practically everywhere. Even he, who was more adept to carve his way out of most places, knew better.

Next he was pulled along to another chamber where he was scrubbed down. Dirty and grime were washed away, even some dried blood from a guard he had smashed resisting capture. His facial hair was trimmed but then it was decided to shave his face entirely. The thick wild black mane of hair was chopped short and buzzed down. They even shaved his body hair. Now he was smooth everywhere. Next they came at him with finer tools. People tried to cover up his scars which he didn't like. He yelled at them, asking what they were doing. "Whaav ayh lat doaumn!" He couldn't understand the reply but a guard grabbed him by the back of his head, holding him still. Something slid into his ear and it caused him to shudder. "What did you do to me!?"

Again they tried to hide his scars, applying a green gel but he resisted. Baring sharp canines. He was poked with a staff and hit with something shocking but it only served to anger him more. In the end they left his scars alone, saying it added to the image as there was only one use for someone like him. Next they oiled him up which was something familiar too him. It was something warriors did before they dueled before their lord, making themselves more presentable. His muscles bulged and now his tribal marking stood out due to the shine his body caused.

Turan was dragged along to another room where finely robed individuals came up to him. Men and women were inspecting him. Running hands over his muscles, tracing his scars and tribal lines. One woman even got bold enough to handle his genitals. He was on display for these people. Goods to be hauled off for the right price. And from the smile on her face he seemed to worth a good amount of coin. His turn finally came to stand on the podium and he brought himself to his full height. A vicious snarl on his face baring fangs. His price went high and he was pulled off and shoved into another cart with others.

With the others who were bought with him they were led to a room and housed for several hours before being given food and drink. Then he was led to a large gallery. It was obvious to him that everything that was set up was to test what they were capable of. Back home at training camp they had something similar but only with weapons. Then he had picked up a heavy two handed axe, his mother had trained him since he was little. He was part orc after all. But this was different. This was different. It's where they'd be assigned. And Turan didn't waste any time. Didn't even grab a weapon even though they were all very appealing to him. Charging the man fast he tackled him to the ground, roaring loudly.

He was a monster and he proved it. Something wrapped around his neck and pulled. Turan stepped back from the downed man and grabbed the whip. He pulled back, dragging the guard closer to him. Two more came out and pried him off, a little difficult as Turan had bit into the man's neck. Orcish fangs were a weapon themselves and he had the scar on his neck to prove it. He struggled against the men, prying his right arm free and headbutting the one on his left hard. Now free he tackled the third to the ground. He felt the shock again and even more men grabbed him, forcing him to his knees. Now he was sweaty and bloody. They wanted a show. Wanted him to do something. So he did.

[Cfavano]

The testing went...better than expected. There were many who seemed promising, and the Patrician tapped his cane, smiling as he nodded his head. "Move on to phase two." He said, leaving the security booth, his cane tinking against the stone floor.

The household was in a flurry of movement, like a well-oiled machine. The tested slaves were removed from the testing room...,and given clothes, light tunics there were an inch or two too short, as well as thin rubber bracelet which cinched tight, but not choking, around their wrist. Attempts to remove it would fail. They were then lead into a comfortable room, with little cushions to sit on, curtains on the walls...and a table leaden heavy with fine food, ad several kegs of varying alcohols stood tapped beside it. One wall opposite the food is bare, and a dark-skinned thin man stands before it. "Our master welcomes you into his household." He says. "He was very pleased when he saw how skilled you all are, and would like to give you a good welcome. Please, eat, drink, be merry...and enjoy the entertainment, a tale from another world. With that, I bid you farewell." With that the man disappears...a hologram he was.

From another room, the Patrician stood watching screeds, cameras, hidden in the room, pinholes, too small to see, embedded high in the room, watching their every movement. "My lord, their bracelets are active, we are getting a live feed of their vital signs, and current emotional state." Says an attending computer tech.
"Good, begin the show." Says the Patrician

With that, the blank wall flashes to light, and visuals begin to play, sound emanating from all other walls surround them, making them feel as if they are there:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3KktTNz33c

[Argon Jaden]

He had managed to get the letters sorted, with help from the memo hidden underneath the pile. This symbol went here, that one went there. These letters there. A soft voice whispered close to him and he shuddered. It may be soft, but there was cruelty and coldness hidden in the words of wisdom. Blinking up at the woman, he shrunk slightly away from him.

"O-okay." Whatever accomplishment he felt from managing to sort the letters fled him as dread returned to his person. He had forgotten he was a slave for a short moment, and the words had him crashing back to reality. Swallowing the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, he continued his work. This letter went to this pile, that one went here. He vaguely wondered if these were from their owner's family? He shuddered.

It was far simpler to accept his fate, but he didn't believe he was so helpless. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he concentrated on his task, ignoring the way his legs trembled. Lumi swallowed and closed his eyes. Time passed by and five, neat, arranged piles of letters were arranged on the table. He exhaled, looking up after a while. Then, there was movement.

He shied away from the touch, remembering the rough bath treatment and flinched at he was dressed. It was shirt, and had him tugging at it to make it roomier. Then, there was something strapped on his wrist. He attempted to shake it off, but it stuck on tight. Lumi swallowed, looking alarmed at they were escorted into a rather lavish room. He felt nervous, and the food in front of him did little to relieve his nerves. Hesitantly, he sat down and stared at the food. Was it poisoned? Is this a test? Deciding they should eat, he took the blandest looking thing he could eat.

The war was never very good to them. His family was never lavish to begin with, and he was easily content. The rather small bowl of fruits was enough to keep him sated as sounds and video showed on the screen. His first reaction was awe, tension seeping from his shoulders as he relaxed. At times, he even forgot to eat, though when he realized that the Attorney was in lust with his adopted daughter, a small grunt of disapproval escaped his mouth. And when he realized what the so-called meatpies were made out of, he pressed his lips together and pushed the half-empty bowl of fruits away.

The youth was entranced, leaning forward, and sometimes clapping along. Mostly, he was quiet, trying to absorb the entire play. His gray-blue eyes were wide, clearly enjoying the entire play. It was hard to distract him from it, though he would shift every now and then. By the time it ended, he was clapping softly at the talent of the singers. He could never sing that well. The entire ordeal had relaxed him completely, all traces of unease gone with the wind.

[lain]

Shortly after Alessia had showcased her abilities as an archer, she saw two more men and a woman. One of the men simply started sparring. The other acted in a rage that was akin to a wild animal and had to be apprehended by several guards to keep him from killing someone. He looked to be a cross breed-- of what, she was unsure. He looked like an Elf, but no Elf would ever act that way. She quirked a brow, watching him be restrained. Then, a small laugh escaped her lips.

"Orc cross breed," she muttered, shaking her head in a pitiful kind of way, "Such tempers."

She now noticed that the other woman besides herself had gone to tend to a vehicle of some sort. This was an awfully strange group of people to be in one room... naked together.

Just when she had become aware of her nakedness again, a tunic that barely covered her bottom was pulled over her head. Well, it was better than nothing. She looked at the strange band on her wrist now. It was of a strange material that she had never had the displeasure of touching before. She scowled at it, but it didn't look like she would be able to take it off any time soon.

Soon enough, her and these other people were whisked away again. Now they were in some kind of banquet hall. A man greeted them and told them to enjoy themselves.

"Now, this is more like home," Alessia said, having no problem taking of the extravagant banquet of food set before them. When she sat down with a plate, the room started making noise and now people were appearing on the wall, moving about and singing. She quirked a brow and watched, figuring it was some kind of other-wordly technology. That being said, she looked slightly curious, but unafraid. It was simply watching a play on a wall. She had seen stranger things happen by use of Magic in her world.

Leaning back on a sate, she crossed her legs and continued to eat while watching this play and also the other people around her. The boy, again, seemed emotionally fragile about the whole thing as he watched it intently. While he cried when people died, Alessia felt herself smiling or laughing. The whole thing was ridiculous to her. She found herself very disinterested in it. She was more curious about the people in this room with her.

As the play came to an end a couple of hours later, she figured she would try and figure out some things. But first, she found it proper to introduce herself.

"My name is Alessia. It seems, unfortunately, that we have been bought by the same person." She stood up and leaned on the banquet table, holding her head up and looking down at all of them in a condescending type of way, "You," she gestured to the man who had nearly killed another one back at the 'orientation', "You would have made a nice pet for me to watch back in Nefayren," she smirked, looking him up and down, "Very nice to watch," she added with a satirical snicker, now holding a bunch of grapes over her head and taking a single grape off with her teeth, all the while staring at the man, "Then when I was done with you or you lost your edge, I'd send you off to the gallows," she said, obviously trying to get a rise out of him.

"It is a displeasure to make all of your acquaintances. Wouldn't you say?" she picked up a goblet full of wine and sipped it, swishing the liquid around in the cup before each sip.

[AngelDellaNotte]

A few moments after starting the car up a pair of hands reached in and roughly pulled her from the vehicle. What did they think she would try to escape? There wasn’t anywhere she could drive this car, they were inside. Still she was forced away from the vehicle by the guard where a long shirt like hospital patients wore was thrust onto her. It was nice to have something to wear finally even if the material was a little scratchy and too short. She also noticed that a rubber bracelet was placed on her wrist before being pushed into another room. It was nicer than anywhere else she had been. Alice notice probably for the first time since leaving the transports that she wasn’t alone. There was only one other woman who had very fine features along with a boy that did was well. The brute that she had been chained to earlier was there too. As was another man that had the look of a soldier to him. She had been around enough to know the way they carried themselves.

Walking further into the room Alice played with the bracelet on her wrist. She would not have thought about using rubber in this manner. She was used to it being used in tires, hoses and other parts. Something was strange about the bracelet when she pulled at it the material didn’t give much and she could feel that there was something inside the rubber. It almost felt like a little circuit board. Alice wondered what the purpose of the bracelet was but before she could think more on it someone started speaking to them. He offered them refreshments and invited them to watch the entertainment before disappearing.

Alice was very curious how he had been able to do that. The screen lit up with people on it making Alice think he must have been part of the flicker. They had these back home, films that could be projected onto a screen. This was much clearer than the flicker she was used to. Flickers was what people called the films due to the way the footage seemed to flicker especially the older the film got. Looking behind her she tried to figure out where the projector was also, thinking they hadn’t dimmed the lights like you had to do with flickers. She had figured out with the car that wherever she was had more advanced technology than she was used to.

She spent several minutes looking around the room trying to figure out the source of the flicker seeming more interested in the how than the what. Finally she moved closer to the wall and touched it feeling a glass like material. The images were coming from the wall not being projected on it. Moving to the edge of the screen she found a small panel box and tried to open it but couldn’t. She went over to the table picking up a butter knife and a sandwich before heading back to the panel. With the butter knife she was able to pry open the panel seeing circuits unlike anything she had seen before. Alice wanted to touch them and examine them more hands on but didn’t want to disturb the flicker that some of the others seemed to be watching. So she sat there eating her sandwich and looking at the circuits trying to figure them out. Flickers never really her thing she had a hard time sitting still in them unless the story line was very interesting and that was rare. Usually she got bored too fast and became fidgety.

The flicker ended a couple hours later proving to be much longer than she was used to even if you added in the News Reel at the beginning and the credits. When the screen turned off she was about to reach in to play with the circuits but the other woman spoke. She was very haughty, Alice had seen the type before, aristocrats that were born into money and never had to work in a day of their lives. She walked over to her as she introduced herself and prattled on. Once she was done Alice reached out her hand and shook the woman’s hand not noticing that she had grease on her hand that transferred on contact. “Alice Von Cooper.” She said, with a smirk on her face realizing the grease she left behind. The woman had probably never gotten her hands dirty before.