Antares Sibrand

"I grow in what I have been given. What is asked of me, I will accomplish. For myself, there is little else."

1 · 58 views · located in Tarsha

a character in “The BloodOath”, originally authored by The Adversary, as played by RolePlayGateway




Antares Sibrand, 11







A tall, slender and articulate man, with long, graceful fingers, angular features and a lithe build, all combined with his dark, wavy, low-hanging and unkempt hair serve to cement a singular image. On the one hand he can be underestimated as someone who is thin and frail, while on the other he can be seen as an ominous figure to those who lack courage or have seen otherwise. His skin is fairly tanned, accenting the deep color of his hair. His eyes, on the other hand, are a pale, dull green. They are eternally observant, drinking in the world and watching for trouble among the working slaves, or danger from other, more unpredictable forces. His clothes consist of a simple, olive green tunic, white pants and sandals.

Having been raised as a slave, Antares is accustomed to the life and, though some small part of him does yearn for him to be his own man, has grown into role life handed him without complaint. He is disillusioned for this, but not unhappy. Knowing there could be worse masters, Antares is at least thankful that his has seen fit to treat him somewhat human. As such he is neither malnourished, nor is he uneducated. Having come to understand how the society of Tarsha is built upon a foundation of slaves he realizes all too well that this way shall probably never change and believes that he, as a slave, has a duty to help keep that order in place. As an individual, Antares is strict, though not unkind. For his position as an overseer among the slaves he strives to keep those beneath him in line with as little cruelty as possible, though not without a reminder of repercussions should faults be made. He has long been understanding of those he has power over, and has been known to show leniency, but never so much that he oversteps his own boundaries. Above all is his loyalty for his master. If there is dissension among the slaves, he does not hesitate to quell it - fiercely, if necessary. He adheres zealously to the proper conduct of a slave: averting his eyes from his master's, and never speaking lest spoken to. A model slave, some might say - something he has striven to become.

Failure. Drowning. Large dogs.

Intellect. Physical speed and strength. Intimidating appearance. A good leader, and a loyal worker. Adherent to the social conventions placed on the slave caste.

Inability to swim. Fear of bigger dogs.

Roleplay Sample:
It was late. Late in the year, and late in the day. As the sun slipped low, the world growing dark and cold, a figure slipped through the emptying streets as quietly as she could. Keeping a low profile was easy in a city so big that no one cared to pay attention to the little people who dashed about in the daily frenzy, and though some may argue that it was after the sun went down that you were more likely to be seen, it more than suited her needs for concealment. It offered a pensive solitude, giving one room to think. Maybe too much room. The weight of doubt and guilt were suffocating in the vacuousness of the burgeoning night, in the final moments of twilight. The bundle in her arms seems to grow all the more taxing with every fleeting footstep. It was horrible, but it had to be done. That was the mantra she repeated to keep the voice she knew all too well at bay: It has to be done, it has to be done, it has to be done!

She stopped at just another building in a long line of stone monuments to vanity. Heaving a terrible sigh, she freed one of her hands to rap on the door, just loud enough to be heard, but not to wake the child she cradled. Moments passed, and no one answered. Anxiety grew, whisperings to turn around and abort the effort. Surely this was too great a price? Just as her foot seemed about to lift the door opened. The man who greeted her was obviously one of marginal wealth and sophistication. He looked at what she held, and shook his head dolefully. The questions he asked came mechanically and reeked of cold rehearsal. Completely detached from it all. It made the job so much easier when you trained yourself not to care. He made his inspection, carefully, and gave her an offer. She swallowed a sob, fighting back the ache that clawed its way up her throat, and nodded. He called a servant to bring her her money, and after she said her last goodbye the door was shut. Left now with the money she needed, but deprived of her son, she made her way home consumed by grief.

So begins...

Antares Sibrand's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Doridex Sonnocingos Character Portrait: Antares Sibrand Character Portrait: Fletchyr Caile

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Antares Sibrand

Even if one had never heard of the Ceremony they would be able to see the added fear in most of the slaves. Many were anxious and agitated, more consumed in their tasks; praying that they would not be chosen as a Bound. That same fear would work against them, making them less attentive to their duties and possibly damaging their chances of being overlooked for the annual ritual. With tensions as high as they were, Antares could only imagine that it would feel like work was just piling up and bearing down on those who couldn't bear the pressure. It was a potential nightmare, but he'd long been adapted to the added stress despite having less to really worry about because of his standing among the slaves. He would have to be stricter; firmer with them in the hopes of keeping things orderly at a time when it mattered most. Deep in his thoughts, his hands twisted tight around the thick wooden rod that served as both a symbol and a tool: a sign of authority, and an implement of either "encouragement" or discipline. He was called back to reality by the voice of a younger slave who approached him quickly, head bowed slightly out of apprehension.

"Miss Edwards wanted you to know that she will be out buying new slaves today, and that you should make sure the house is organized," he launched right into what he had to say, not bothering to announce himself or even make sure Antares was paying attention. "And she said that you and Fletchyr need to make sure the gate is fixed." Antares sighed, that gate was becoming increasingly problematic with age.

"Has Fletchyr been notified, yet?" He asked.

The boy nodded quickly.

"Is that all, then?"

The boy chewed his bottom lip, eyes searching the heavens and the earth for anything he may have missed. "Oh! Miss Edwards also said that Evie must clean the servant dorms 'properly' this time, or else she'll be in for another lesson." Finished with what he had to relay, the boy ran off again. New slaves... Antares felt a tug in his gut at the thought. Any new slaves around this time were more than likely doomed for the slaughter. What horrid luck if they were newly acquired and not just slaves being sold back to the state to be recycled through the system all over again. Purchased only to be used as an oblation. An awful thought, to be sure. But not an important one.

He looked around quickly and, finding nothing glaringly out of order, made his way toward the front gate to see if Fletchyr had already taken care of the problem or found it needed serious renovation. That would be a true nightmare amidst the foray. As he came around the property he spotted the man. Calling out to him to catch his attention, Antares jogging the rest of the distance. "I'm assuming you've already made your assessment," he said, looking towards the gate. "How does it look?"

Doridex Sonnocingos

Hands and feet shackled, Doridex could feel the last threads of his freedom fraying as he was thrown into line. He searched out the others, the soldiers who had been taken along with him into slavery. As the last surviving commander within the ranks, it would have fallen on him to spare his brothers and sisters the shame of this empty life. He had tried, several times, to end them mercifully as was custom, but the Tarshish had found him out each time, and punished him for it with every failed attempt. They looked back, each one of them, silently bidding their farewells. There was no blame when they met his stare. And then they looked forward, holding themselves strong despite all that had happened so far, and all that was sure to come.

They had cut short the hair of the Helvenian men. For any man to cut his hair was a sign that they had abandoned their people, and their heritage. As poetic as it may have been, what with their captors cutting away the last ties they held to their people - other than the chains around their necks, which had not been removed - it only served to enrage and humiliate them all. Doridex had fought hard against them when they tried to hold him down. The blade had slipped and made a long cut just beside his eye, running down to his cheek. It had stopped bleeding some time ago, but was still red and healing. He had since stopped fighting, but there was murder in his eyes when he stared down the Tarshish guards. They could not obliterate who he was so easily.

When he was brought out onto the stage, Doridex hardened his face and stood as tall as he could. He was vermin to these people, and a failure to his own. But the truest crime would have been to let himself be broken, and he refused to give them that pleasure. Some amount of his honor remained, and he held fast to it as hard as he could. Bereaved of everything else, it was all he could do to make himself feel as if there was still a reason for him to let his life continue. If the gods had not abandoned him, as he had begun to believe, then perhaps something would come, soon. The frail hopes of a man with little left, he told himself bitterly. Foolish they may have been, but they were better than emptiness. He could show no weakness, and so he faced the gathered crowd as a soldier, and waited for his fate to be decided by the barbarians.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Antares Sibrand Character Portrait: Fletchyr Caile

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Fletchyr Caile

Blue eyes glazed slightly as they flicked towards the figure approaching. The male blinked slowly as he registered the question. His teeth were pressed against each other, and his lips drew back before he spoke, presenting a half grimace for a few fleet seconds. it took a few seconds to think of a proper sentence, the quickest way to deliver all the words, but he managed to alight upon one. "One of the hinge bolts broke, bottom left. The entire bolt was all twisted up. I made a wooden replacement. We will need a new one within eight days." His voice was soft a sleepy sounding, but then again, Fletchyr only had two voice settings. It was soft and sleepy or a drone voice, both of which were mildly apathetic in tone. "What am I required to do now?" He added the question a few seconds after his final statement. It was a long enough pause to make it seem hesitant, but the look on his face said otherwise. He'd worked here for about eight years, this work was a simple tedium now.

The blonde male folded his hands behind him, his eyes falling back to the ground. He didn't meet anyone's eye unless he had to. It had always been that way. It was part of the reason he didn't have any friends. it was almost disconcerting, the way that he stared at the ground so listlessly. It made one feel like he wasn't listening to them. It wasn't even that he played the, 'look just over your shoulder' game, he would literally point his nose at the ground, hands behind his back and his stance slightly spread.

On the bright side, Fletchyr didn't care much to have friends. Because when things change, friends might become lost. And if friends are lost then quite a bit of pain entails. Mourning. And he had a job to do, he didn't need to complicate anything by becoming involved with anything except for what he had to do. Or at least, that was his justification for closing himself off to everyone.

It had been the same way at the circus. for a year or so he'd pretended to smile and get along with everyone else, but it didn't work like he'd expected it too. he didn't become as happy and carefree as they were. So, he asked himself, what was the point of begin something he wasn't if it wasn't bringing him closer to his goal? he closed himself off slowly, pulling away from the group. They didn't seem to notice. Fletchyr didn't mind. He still didn't mind. He had almost always been viewed as something akin to a light fixture, a door, carpeting, something that one sees everyday but never really thinks about until it needs to be replaced. Like the gate. And little things could be done to it to prolong its life, but it was going to die eventually. It would reach the point in which it would be more of a bother to fix it than to just replace it with a new one that worked ten times better than the old. Fletchyr didn't know when he'd reach that point of his life, but it was his single goal that it wouldn't be soon. Simple because he had nothing else to live for.

Fletchyr's back stiffened suddenly, a movement that was common for him. The rest of his muscles followed suit. it felt like someone was staring at him. His pupils shrank slightly and his head lifted from its downward position so he could shoot a glance behind him. No one. He couldn't see anyone. He looked for a couple more seconds, but still no one. As the flare of adrenaline calmed, the blonde remembered that he was still talking to Antares. Well, awaiting Antares' answer. He tried not to have these type of paranoid fits in front of the other servants, for a variety of reasons he was not willing to disclose. He couldn't help it sometimes, the feeling of being watched just attacked him sometimes. Especially when he began to think about his circus days. Those days were the reason for his paranoia anyway, the audiences, the stress, and the vague memories of a time before the circus.

Shaking his head almost imperceptibly, Fletchyr set himself back into proper order, his head dipping down again. The whole episode had lasted for a little over ten seconds. Ten seconds too long in Fletchyr's opinion.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Antares Sibrand Character Portrait: Iggy Nein Character Portrait: Markelx Seno Character Portrait: Fletchyr Caile Character Portrait: Evie Johnson

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#, as written by Skwidge
Iggy Nein

Iggy blinked once more, finishing off her silent mourning fairly quickly. She had work to do, and to do it well. For the last week she had been doing her best to ignore the whole Bound sacrifice and what not, but she should never ignore something like that. But hey, if she was chosen, she could probably hide off somewhere and die, maybe even escape.... The small girl shook her head before freezing; she could hear voices in the distance. Was Miss Angela back already? No, no. It's just the other servants.... She sighed ever so lightly, wiped her cheeks and forehead and turned, squinting to see if she could discern the figures. They were both fairly tall, both boys. Iggy bit her lower lip softly, her eyes remaining on the somewhat silhouetted form of the blonde-headed one. And she could only tell the hair color because it was somewhat clear in the sunlight.

However her three second daze was broken as he seemed to turn his head and look back, thus causing her to put her hand over her eyes and the small peach blush which was probably mostly sunburn to increase slightly. Iggy then returned to her work furiously, finishing up the tilling of the soil before pushing up from her crouching position and brushing off the dirt from her hands and moving carefully along to the growing patches. Cautiously she poked the bucket that stood against a small fence, and then tensed a bit as she realized it had no water in it. A tiny and shaky sigh escaped her lips before she closed her fist around the wiring, picking up the bucket and carrying it to the pump.

The small girl let the bucket drop onto the ground underneath the spout and shuffled carefully over to the mechanism to draw the water out. She struggled to push it up, and had to put all her strength into getting it to go back down, almost climbing on top of it. It was fairly rusted, but the water came out nonetheless. Iggy didn't dare push it again, lest she get in trouble for wasting water. She could make due with what she had. Just as cautiously she picked up the bucket and waddled back over to the greenery with it, crouching down with her knees and cupping her hands in the water, holding it up and allowing it to slip through her fingers and sprinkle down upon the plants.

After finishing with this, she went to the flower pots in front of the house.

Markelx Seno

Mark grumbled silently to himself, hopping a bit on his left side to prop the doe up more comfortably, walking through the gates nonchalantly. He could feel the blade of his dagger bumping against his shoulder-blade, and remembered it had to be sharpened. "Might as well get it professionally sharpened. I've got plenty o' time." His voice was low and quiet, keeping the noise mostly to himself as he walked along the cobblestones towards the market.

As he walked, he fumbled around with the strings of his satchel before he wrested his knife free, keeping one strong hand around the legs of the doe while tossing the weapon a bit into the air while he walked. Life is so pointless.... He rolled his eyes, watching the dark metal catch the glinting sunlight and gleam. He stretched his legs a bit more, yawning morosely.

Walking up to the vendors, he handed the knife to one of the shopkeepers, as well as a tiny pouch of gold he always carried with him. Where did he acquire such things, what with being a slave? Well, let's just say he didn't give all the meat to Miss Edwards. "Better make it pretty." He smirked at the shop keeper, his eyes cruel and calculated, assessing the man threateningly but laid back. Snobby little wretches. He shrugged lightly, carrying the kill throughout the market while getting a lot of stares from people wandering by.

He froze though, spotting one of the other slaves of his household looking ever so lost. Like a little kid. He huffed through his nose, rolling his eyes and pushing his way through the crowds over to her. Markelx reached out his hand, snatching the paper out of her hand, quickly scanning over it. "Geeze, what's the matter with you, girl? Can't even read such simple things?" He glared at her fleetingly before looking over the food items once more. He shifted the carcass, wrinkling his nose at the girl. "Come on then; but don't expect me to save your sorry ass next time." He snorted indifferently, glancing back at her out of the corner of his eyes.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miss Angela Edwards Character Portrait: Arya Tundra Character Portrait: Doridex Sonnocingos Character Portrait: Antares Sibrand Character Portrait: Iggy Nein Character Portrait: Soren Meade Character Portrait: Fletchyr Caile

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#, as written by Shané

She'd just finished ordering the two other slaves, though one of them looking ready to collapse; now she just needed her third.
One of the Helvanian's was brought out. Miss Edwards eyes immediately hardened in dislike. The male's arrogant stature was making him fairly unpopular with the Tarshan crowds; who wanted a slave that would quite possibly refuse to work?
No one wanted to start the bid at the price the slave master had suggested. He was getting a little desperate, Angela could tell, as he tried to give more information. Finding himself lacking more flattering descriptions, the man started to describe what they could already see. After hearing his name and his age for around the third time, Angela rolled her eyes.
"I'll give you twenty quins, no more"
There was a temporary silence, everyone turning her way. She glared at them crossly.
"Well someone needs to get rid of him." she said sharply, glancing back up at the slave master. He gave a slight nod, and the sold sign was placed over the man, Doridex's, head.
After she had cuffed him, she turned to all three of them. Studying each in turn. They were an odd bunch to be sure, may the gods be pleased she was getting rid of them.
"Follow me quickly and quietly." She instructed harshly before leading them out of the stuffy market place. When they finally reached her house, Angela spotted Fletchyr and Antares near the gate. She allowed herself a small smile. It seems they were on top of things, that was the reason they would live, not that they were entirely certain of that yet. She strode up the front path, glancing back at the slaves to gauge their reaction to her massive complex of a house, before turning to Antares.
"I'll need you to leave the gate for now, that can be fixed later" she said quickly "These three need to be taken to the servants quarters. All need to have bathed and dressed properly…" she paused slightly "And depending on how desperately you think they need it, fed."
Antares was responsible enough to gather what she meant. If they looked ready to collapse, then they could have half a piece of the stale bread kept in the cellar.
"After that, I want them put to work. Explain the rules you think necessary, familiarise yourself with their names and figure out what they do best. They also aren't supposed to have possessions, as you well know...I think the Syri girl has a necklace that needs removing. As for the work that's needs doing...The dining room needs to be cleaned again, the marble floor scrubbed and the windows re-cleaned and also the feast for tomorrow night prepared...Marklex should be back with the meat before long."
She paused again, thinking of what else needed to be done.
"Oh and Fletchyr, the fireplace needs to be prepared for the branding tomorrow night. Get Callie to fetch the brands from my room and yourself to get the wood organised"
The fire would need to be lit in the Bound room, located under the cellar. The room was more like a sparse cell. Angela also used it for those that needed discipline. The brands themselves were kept in a large box at the foot of her bed. Angela didn't trust most servants near her bedroom, however Callie had shown her loyalty. The brands were long metal rods, with a cursive "X" at the bottom, also made of metal.
Pleased that everything seemed to be organised, Angela was about to go back into the house when she spotted Iggy in the garden.
Her face hardened.
"Iggy, you better have your spare dress perfectly clean to change into." she said the ice clear in her voice "It's lucky I don't have time to bother about you right now...I will later. Your to go help Antares orientate the newer slaves. When he's ready, you can show the female washrooms to the girls, is that clear?"
She didn't bother waiting for a reply, before heading into the house, pleased to see it looking clean and perfect as she wanted it.


Arya glanced at the two that were also new to slavery. The male seemed strong and intimidating, with a rugged, unkempt look about him. Doridex, they had said, and Arya assumed he had come from the south as she had heard tales of wild tribesman that roamed the unnamed land below Tarsha and Syra. She looked over at the girl, and couldn't help but stare at her long, golden hair. She'd heard of people that had it of course; but she herself had never seen it before. It was exotic and beautiful to Arya, though she kept her face blank, hiding her true feelings. No doubt her deep, green eyes gave her away though. The saying eyes were a window to your soul seemed true in Arya's case, as her eyes always showed her emotion without fail.
It was so hot in Tarsha, but also strangely pleasant to not have your face frozen all the time as in Syra. Arya bit her lip, trying to focus on walking rather than the situation at hand. Her mistress continued to walk, twisting in and out of the market place, confusing Arya on their route until they turned into a rather broad lane. Evidently this was one of the richer parts of the city. Arya couldn't help but stare as they turned to a huge structure. She managed to keep herself from gaping, though only just.
She'd only heard of fixed living space, her people preferring tents you could move into other, better suited areas. Here all the structures were fixed, but this was massive. She quickly turned her eyes away as her mistress started speaking to two men. Both were evidently servants too, from the silver cuffs, but Miss Edwards seemed to have less of a harsh tone with them than she had with her newer ones.
There was a commanding, leader like quality from one. He had similar features to those of the Syri, with dark black hair and even soft green/hazel eyes, though his skin was far too dark for that to be possible. Arya observed him silence, finding herself a little intimidated by him, no doubt her eyes showing her fear of both her mistress, the other slave and the new situation.
The other male, next to him had blonde hair like the female, Soren. Both had bright blue eyes, though this wasn't overly common in Syra, it certainly wasn't unheard of. The male had a bit of a distracted air about him, but also appeared rather cold and distant.
Miss Edwards instructed the first male to take herself and the two others to the servants quarters. At the mention of food her stomach tightened and Arya desperately wished the man would agree they needed it. That was when the necklace was mentioned. Arya visibly stiffened, her fingers unconsciously brushing against the whittled wooden beads. Her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, she'd only had it for three months, and now it appeared they had to take one more thing from her life. It seemed she wouldn't have a choice, so she'd deal with it. Her mother wouldn't want her beaten for it. Even so the tears automatically pricked her eyes though she desperately blinked them away…
She tried not to think of the other items tied carefully to the inside of her dress. Those she wouldn't be giving up. Beside, Miss Edwards hadn't mentioned them, so hopefully they would go unnoticed. She glanced back at the male, praying he wouldn't notice the others...she didn’t' like to lie, but if he asked she would have no choice. To Arya, they were worth more than her life, they couldn't have them.
After giving a few other instructions the Miss Edwards appeared to leave before catching sight of a small figure near the garden.
The ice in Miss Edwards voice made Arya flinch slightly. The small girl was also ordered to "orientate" them. Arya was secretly pleased. She felt a lot more comfortable with the younger, pretty female than the male in front of her.
After Miss Edwards had left, she turned back to the male, waiting for instruction.
She didn't dare open her mouth, lest she be punished as they'd assured her on the ship she would be.
She silently begged that there would be food before she was forced to work. Work. The word gave her a sinking feeling. This was now going to be her life, to work everyday for a mistress she already mistrusted and disliked...those opinions were going to be carefully guarded and mentioned only to herself.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arya Tundra Character Portrait: Doridex Sonnocingos Character Portrait: Antares Sibrand Character Portrait: Soren Meade Character Portrait: Fletchyr Caile

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Fletchyr Caile

Before the other could respond to his inquiry, another answered it. His body, which was already straight, visibly straightened more as he heard another approach, Miss Edwards. She spoke to Antares first, so Fletchyr took the opportunity to gauge the threat level of the other three people. New slaves, from the looks of their wrist band, identical to the one around the wrist of virtually every living body in the house. The man, rugged and defiant looking, made the corners of Fletchyr's mouth twitch downwards slightly. He would keep an eye on that one, he didn't trust him at all. He looked like the type the Lady would merely send out to die, but from the look on his face he was going to put up a good fight. Well, that was one space open for the bound positions. Fletchyr, while those such going ons made him slightly twitchy, harbored a mild apathy towards them. He wasn't one to fret over them, especially since he'd never participated in one of the 'games' before, and he assumed that he wasn't going to in his lifetime. Hopefully. Even taking part as one of the 'Hunters' was dangerous, it was easy to get oneself killed. Too easy.

The two females were not threatening at all. The blonde girl looked fragile as a bird, and the other girl seemed only in slightly better condition. It was very likely that they would be 'Bound' as well, he decided. Which would leave one spot open, if the Lady saw it fit to completely fill the quota, which she usually did. Fletchyr didn't have anything to worry about, he decided. Luckily, that didn't stop him from doing his job properly.

Finished with his silent examination of the three, his gaze returned to the ground. Miss Edwards had finished speaking to Antares. He'd payed rapt attention to what she was saying, all the work that would need to be done, and he was musing vaguely about which ones he'd pounce on before anyone else could get to them, when the Lady spoke his name. His chin lifted up slightly, to show that he was listening, but his eyes didn't leave the ground again. He bowed wordlessly in deference, his new objectives in his mind. he started off shortly after the Lady was out of sight, leaving the new slaves with Antares.

He'd find Callie first, utter the three word imperative, "Fetch the brands." and not waste any other words. Then he'd collect enough wood, and bring it down to the 'cellar' beneath the true cellar and set it up in the box, where it would stay dry until the next night. Then he would clean all the soot out of the fireplace until it was completely clean, even the slight gaps between each brick were free of the black substance. He sought out the tinderbox and left that on top of the wood box so it would be found easily. He'd come back and start the fire later, after the sun set, so it could grow hot enough without wasting too much wood. Until then, he needed something to occupy himself with.

The blonde found himself a bucket and set to scrubbing the floor, one of the more undesirable jobs. But it needed to be done, and Fletchyr wasn't one to ignore a job that needed doing. And it was a lengthy job, so it would eat up plenty of time. It was better than having to show the new 'servants' to their quarters, or cooking, because it required no thoughts. Just a couple hours worth of intensive work, which Fletchyr could do with his hands tied behind his back. Well, not really behind his back, per say, but you get the idea. He pushed his sleeves back up over his forearms again so they wouldn't become dirty, but there really was no helping his pants, if they so chose to get wet. he'd just have to change into the single other pair he had, which was no trouble, really. They were clean, at least.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miss Angela Edwards Character Portrait: Arya Tundra Character Portrait: Antares Sibrand Character Portrait: Iggy Nein Character Portrait: Markelx Seno Character Portrait: Soren Meade Character Portrait: Fletchyr Caile Character Portrait: Evie Johnson

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#, as written by Skwidge
Iggy Nein

Iggy froze immediately, straightening up and folding her hands nervously together as her Mistress spoke to her. She kept her gaze down on the ground, the small silver band around her arm glinting harmlessly in the sunlight. "Yes Miss A-Edwards." She played off the mistake of mixing off the first and last name by shifting the vowels quickly, causing it to seem like her accent was flaring up just a bit. She made a small curtsy as she walked off and then sighed, slumping down and looking at her dress with a frown. Momentarily, her gaze turned to watch Fletchyr leave to go inside, and mentally shrugged. She then turned her gaze cautiously to the new slaves, her eyes timid and fleeting, much like a deer's would be.

The small girl fiddled with the band, looking up to Antares and waiting for his signal. It would be foolhardy to go and change now while she was just given a job that should be completed soon after it was given. She let out a quiet, shaky breath and turn back to the windows, finishing off the rest of the water on the plants before returning to the small group.

Markelx Seno

Mark rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure~" He smirked passively, walking through the crowds to get to the stalls which had stock of the things listed on the parchment. "You're a pretty horrible sounding cook if you don't even know what these simple ingredients are." He eyed her with hard eyes, shoving one hand in his pocket while supporting the carcass with his other. He shifted a bit to cause the weight distribution to be a bit more comfortable, and then stopped at the first stall, pointing to a couple of things. "Most of the ingredients are pretty self explanatory by any means. You can pretty much relate them to the shape they sound closest to."

Once more he rolled his eyes, taking the dagger out and tossing it once more. "This thing? I borrowed it and shined it up. Much better than the foam crap Miss 'Edwards' gives to her hunters. Why? You nervous 'bout it?" He said so flatly, yet one could tell he was teasing without much effort. "Anyway, I'm sure you're in the household as well, considering the bracelet's design." He tapped his engraving with the dagger, the two metals clinking from impact on each other. "You must be pretty screwed if Miss Edwards sent you out to get these ingredients and cook with them, what with your nervous air and being so lost. It shows you don't know much, and you're probably going to end up bound." He chuckled darkly at her then rolled his eyes. "Heck, I have no idea, I'm just pulling your leg a bit. But you better hope that you and I don't get stuck as enemies." That cruel smile lit up his features eerily before he chuckled once more.

"I hope Miss Edwards gave you the money to buy this stuff. If not...." He trailed off then grinned. "We'll have to tell them to put it on her tab." He waved to the man carelessly, moving on to the next stall and leaving the girl to pick up the stuff and carry it herself.