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Marcus Smithson

~WIP~

0 · 303 views · located in Myru

a character in “No Longer Chained”, originally authored by Deguu, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Marcus Smithson


Gender:
Male

Age:
18

Rank:
Slave


Image


Appearance:
With short brown hair, and green eyes, Marcus is a very fit young man. He is tall, at just over six foot, and with a muscular frame and wide shoulders. He has muscles created from long hours working in various fields, and the sort of windswept look that can't be avoided when you work all day on a farm. His chest and back are covered in the scars from whiplashes, and bruises, but nothing that is at all serious. His skin is tanned from long hours in the sun, but other than that, he is rather easy on the eyes.


Personality:
Marcus, most of the time, is a demure, ideal slave. He will never meet a woman's eyes, and will all but grovel at a woman's feet upon her entrance into a room. He is quiet, and reliable and soft. On the exterior, at least. Otherwise, his eyes carry something similar to a dare in them. He is willing and able to rise to a challenge, but due to disobedience he is often moved from one place to another, with little a care. He can cope in a variety of situations, trusting to his quick wit and sarcastic humour to help him out of a difficult situation. He has questioned the women he works for since an early age, and has always regarded it as a sort of challenge - to stare and watch, to walk the line between disobedience and submission.


[center]Bio/History:
Marcus was born to some woman who had been so shamed by the birth of a male that he had automatically been given away. He worked from an early age, and always resented the women who were in charge. Like any other child, he rebelled consistently and as he grew up, this didn't diminish, so much as take on a different sort of edge.

So begins...

Marcus Smithson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nathan Atery Character Portrait: Pandora Highborne Character Portrait: Jean Odyssey Character Portrait: Gwendolyn Maison Character Portrait: Benjamin Character Portrait: Valera Falen
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It was like a dream, floating and feeling the soft air flow through her fingertips. Oh wait...this was a dream. Maya knew this as well as her conscious. But what what wrong with dreaming? Nothing. Because one moment your falling on clouds the next you wake to the bright sun, Maya hated this feeling and she wished as everyone else did that she could dream forever for this was the place most sacred to her. No one could enter her mind in this state and for once she could get her imagination to turn it's clocks without having to have them be shut off by her mother, for her imagination was crushed when she was but a child. Maya woke to the bright sun, groaning as she tossed and turned over in her soft feathery bed. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she realized her dream wasn't as great as it would have seemed. Maya shook the thought away perhaps it was just the sun heating her skin? As it normally did. Maya knew she was one of the tannest girls in Myru but it was just the hours of training and hunting she had done to make herself this way. Maya's self conscious told her to get up but she could stay in her bed all day if she wished and she did very much wish she could stay. But just as she was about to fall back asleep a sharp knock on the door made her narrow her eyes over at it, a grumble turned into a sigh. "What is it?!" she grumbled as the sharp knocking sounded again. Before Maya could even straighten her mother enterered the room, her eyes narrowed, her chin pointed in the highly directed way, as her eyes drifted on her still waking daughter. Two slaves entered the room, one a dark skinned man that was Maya's slave the other was The Empress's. "Mother? Why do you wake me so early in the morning?" Maya grumbled, covering her self with the sheets as the slaves and her mother entered. The Empress crossed her arms, clearly not amused. "You were suppose to take the hunt patrol out this morning and yet you lay sprawled on your bed like you just fought a war." Her mother said in her high shrill voice. Maya sighed and brushed an annoying piece of hair out of her face, "It feels like I've been fighting a war." she mumbled under her breath, her mother narrowed her eyes and raised a hand to slap Maya but instead clenched her teeth. "Just get dressed and meet me downstairs when your done." she growled and went out of the room. Maya's slave stayed in the doorway watching her with curious dark eyes. "Your dismissed. I don't need help getting dressed." Maya growled and the slave bowed his head and left the room silently. As soon as the door was shut Maya stretched and got herself up and out of the bed, she didn't feel like denying her mother this morning as she grabbed a light chainmill shirt, she quickly put the chain mill over her undergarments and then put a tight pair of leather pants. It wasn't much but it would do for today. She quickly put her hair up into a small bun, looking at herself in the mirror. With a shrug she quickly put on her boots and dispersed down the stairs. "Now what is it?" Maya demanded looking her mother up and down. The Empress took a quick glance over at Maya, doing the same. "Go and do your duties, the patrol is waiting to be taken out." The Empress said with her head tilted high. Maya raised a hand and rubbed the back of her neck. "Yes, Empress." Maya said with a bow, she quickly left the castle she hated so much and before going to where the patrol was she entered the blacksmith's part of the shop. The woman worked quickly and swiftly on a nice looking sword. She looked up, "Why good morning, Maya. What can I do for you?" she asked calmly. A young man came in with a few daggers and sat them down, looking up at Maya but not looking her in the eye. He quickly dismissed himself with a bow from the room and the blacksmith narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Maya looked back at the woman, "You made the belt I presume?" she asked calmly. The blacksmith nodded and handed her a fine black belt with silver edging. Maya smiled at the work and quickly wrapped it around her chain mill, she placed the scabbard and sword in it's place on the belt and did a twirl, the belt looked good. The blacksmith nodded with a smile. "Looks great." she commented. Maya nodded and thanked the Blacksmith as she quickly left the shop, Maya headed towards the patrol, nodding politely to other women as she passed.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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#, as written by Deguu
Marcus stood, scowling quietly at the ground, in the middle of the town plaza. His back smarted sharply, and the dried blood did nothing but invite flies around him, but with his hands tied to the pole in front of him, there was little he could do. He had been here for uncountable hours, and had said not a word in protest as he received by his mistress, his ex-mistress, a dozen lashes to his back for asking sarcastically if she would need help reaching her toes to put her slippers on that morning. The memory of her facial expression, anger and humiliation - mixed with surprise and self righteousness-, made him smile and alleviated a little of the pain his stinging back dealt him.

He sighed then, looking up to watch the various women around him going about their daily business. Damn. This wasn't the best situation to be in. He knew what would happen. It'd happened so many times in his life, if he had been given a coin each time it happened, he'd be the richest man in town. If a man could be rich at all. He knew the drill. Sarcastic comment, punishment, and then forced to stand at the pole until a woman saw fit to take him into her home, and take up a new slave. Marcus knew that it would be hours, if not days, before he was chosen as, if he was honest (and he always was), he'd worked for most of these women before. No one would take a slave that had been kicked out of her house once already.

He remembered his first time. As a child at the age of five, he had stolen an apple from the house kitchens. With childish glee he had consumed it beneath the dining table, and inevitably, been caught. His mistress at the time had spent what seemed to be hours, though they were only really minutes, shouting at him. He had been a 'failure when there was so much potential', and that she knew that this was just the beginning. And for that, he had been turned out, and given the first whipping of his life. Three lashes. Although the woman had been cruel in putting him out, he remembered how she had not had the heart to have a child whipped more than that. Looking back, the lashes hadn't been especially hard, or deep, but the shock of each one on his clean and flawless flesh has burned and scarred more than just the skin. Now, he was almost numb, and his make was a myriad of spider like white flaws.

Marcus sighed again, shifting to dislodge the flies that threatened to settle. So. Here, he would wait. His shirt hand in tatters about his shoulders, bloodied and ragged, and his clothes were almost completely dirtied from the beating he had received from his most recent mistresses favourite man. It hadn't hurt, but now Marcus had to suffer the long, cold, thirsty wait of the unemployed man.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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A day like every others. Valera sighed as she made her way through the middle of the town checking on her businesses. The plaza was no more busier than it was every other day. All of the shops she owned were doing fine. Just fine. She grumbled as she ordered the boy following her to grab her some fruit. So far out of all the slaves at her home only this one had managed to not annoy her while on trips such as these. He came back shortly and then bowed silently to walk behind her again while she munched, watching the crowd go about it's daily business. Quite a few women nodded and smiled at her, and a couple even stopped to say hello and ask how she was. Valera never remembered the names of these women, only that that they had been partners or friends of her mothers. Now that her mothers estate was hers, she was expected to keep up appearances and that was the only thing that stopped her from snapping at the pesky things to go away.

"He's been there for a while now."

The redhead snapped to face the current woman speaking to her. Without realizing it, Valeras gaze had shifted to a man tied to a pole in the middle of the plaza. She frowned as she looked back at him.

"What did he do?"

The woman sighed before shaking her head. "Well, knowing him, probably stole something? Or said something out of line. He's a problem that one."

"You speak as if you know him."

"Oh well, not I. A dear friend of mine kicked him out in the street only a few years ago and the stories have just been going around each time he's out there."

"Boy, fetch this woman a drink would you? Then see to it that she has something to eat if she wishes it."

The slave nodded and turned to request what the woman would like. The woman smiled and fluffed herself up, probably feeling important that Saria's daughter had seen to it that she was taken care of. Valera simply ignored her and walked to stand in front of the slave tied up. He was bleeding, the blood drying on his back before it could fall to the ground. He was also taller than her, even hunched slightly like he was. The look of him suggested that he would have been used for physical labor. She frowned again and poked at his shoulder to get his attention.

"What did you do to earn this punishment, and how long have you been here for?" She started examining his facial expression immediately, and when he responded she would examine his tone of voice as well. If she found him to be interesting she would probably just take him back with her. After all she had recently lost 4 slaves to some sort of scuffle with the city guards and they would need replacing.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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#, as written by Deguu
Marcus was jolted rudely from his rather pleasant daydream by a woman, unremarkable just like any other that he had seen passing. In his daydream, he had been dozing in the warm sunlight of an island in the middle of nowhere. The waves had been washing comfortingly around him, while the sun baked his skin a healthy tan. It was like having a bucket of frigid water thrown over him when he was dragged out of his reverie. Her poke to his shoulder made his back twinge uncomfortably, and he immediately felt nothing other than resent for her. He had see her around, of course. Her contacts and businesses were something often discussed.

"What did you do to earn this punishment, and how long have you been here for?"

He looked up at the woman, careful to school his expression into something similar to a mild curiosity, keeping his eyes lowered to his feet. He spoke softly in reply, with a bite and sharp tone to each syllable, but quiet enough so that it didn't sound bitter. He spoke the words that had been his for years. "Forgive me, miss, for I have spoken out of turn, and it is with pleasure that by poor behavior has been righteously punished" The words had a sort of musicality to them, as when someone learns lines at school. He then finished his statement with a short mutter of "Two days"

He then looked away, scowling. The last few minutes had darkened his mood, and he now just wanted to get away from the pole, tend to his back, and get on with some good hard labor. That was something he'd miss from his last mistress. He had hardly ever seen her, except for a 'good morning' if he passed her. He had just been left to do his work. Marcus forced himself to be still, not wanting any more lashes if he somehow irritated this woman in front of him.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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Valera crossed her arms as she listened to him speaking. He sounded monotone, dead, lifeless. To a woman it should be a perfect quality in a slave. And yet it didn't fit him in the way that it should. She also noted that he spoke of taking his punishment with pleasure. This caused her to frown thoughtfully as she nibbled on her lip. 'How can someone take pleasure from lashes and dehydration?' She was intrigued, though she supposed that all slaves were schooled to say something along those lines. She could hear the boy accompaning her come up to stand next to her.

"Miss, the messenger just came, there was a problem with one of the slaves. Would you like for me to go on ahead and see what the fuss is?"

A passing woman voiced her disgust at the slave speaking freely but Valera ignored her and nodded to the boy without breaking her gaze from the slave in front of her. "Yes. But first untie him. He's coming home with us." If the boy was surprised he didn't show it, simply untied the rope and bowed before rushing off to the estate.

"You will come with me. You will have time for your lashes to heal, with food and water and then I will find you a job to do. I assume you prefer physical labor to cleaning houses?" Her lips lifted in an amused smirk as she waited for his response.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jean Odyssey Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Korbyn Macintosh Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson Character Portrait: Maya Dürthven
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(OOC: Hey Guys Sorry for not posting for a while! I've had some work lately and mostly because of being lazy. XP)

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Maya continued to wonder through the town, she recognized a few women from here and there. She recognized Jean as she helped a young girl and her brother get some medicine. This was life and now that Maya could finally breathe her steps were taken in stride. This was life and to Maya it seemed things couldn't get much better than this. Though she noticed on her way to the patrol a young man tied to a pole, she also noticed a women whom she didn't know quietly talking to the man, Marcus, Maya believed was his name. She'd heard of the trouble maker and thought nothing of him, only the wish to beat that usual smirk off his face. But it wasn't much of a rule for men to smile though it made Maya rather irritated. Still Maya continued towards the patrol, she found her small patrol waiting and indeed they were ready. "Good morning, Maya." some would say, others would nod politely. Maya would occasionally return the gesture but sometimes she would not. Maya looked over to see her dark roan colored stallion waiting as one of the women soldiers held a tight grip on the reins. Maya didn't like men very much but for some reason male horses were a bit different they were kind and sweet, Maya liked a good battle once in a while with trying to ride Asher. Asher pricked his ears and looked over at her, whining softly as he began to paw at the ground. "Easy, Asher." Maya cooed, patting the horse affectionately on the nose. Some of the women in the patrol would smile or just shake their head in disapproval at Maya's affection for the horse. It wasn't against the rules for Maya to show affection with the horse she grew up with. "Alright, ladies. Let's see whats waiting out in the woods for us today shall we?" Maya said and with a graceful swing she climbed atop Asher, placing her self on the saddle and gripping the reins with one hand. Murmurs of agreement followed after and soon Maya was galloping off towards the woods, across the field as the others followed shortly after they mounted their horses. Maya and the patrol had found nothing for a while, they passed the creek and an occasional knocked over tree blocked their path. Signs of some of the large beasts that roamed Myru were spotted but Maya wouldn't take much heed to worry so much about them. Tall tales were some of the most recent stories, Maya could remember thinking they were but a myth. But Maya had seen some of the beasts and they were not to be trifled with.

A few minutes later Maya climbed down Asher's back, she tied his reins to a fallen tree, patting him on the nose once more before she left and went over to the other women who had climbed off of their horses back's as well. "We should split up, in case we missed something. Go over the area once more and make sure nothing gets past our borders." Maya said, heads were nodded in agreement and soon Maya found herself getting back on Asher, riding off in a different direction with 4 other women following. A distant howl sounded and Asher pricked his ears, prancing nervously around on the ground and making some of the dirt clumps come up from the ground. "Easy, Asher." Maya murmured softly in his large ears. But still Asher continued to prance. Maya signaled to two of the women as they both jumped down from their horses, swords drawn as they entered the bush. After a few seconds of silence Maya practically jumped as a scream sounded. In a flash Maya sprang down from her horse and ran over into the bushes to see what was amiss. A large wolf, the practical size of a horse was close to a young man, it's fangs were bared a knife was stuck in its shoulder. Maya had already drawn her sword as she narrowed her light hazel/green eyes in it's direction. The two women that had gone into the bushes surrounded the wolf, they cared more about defeating it then protecting the boy. The boy's chest was bleeding, badly as blood flowed down the open scars on his chest, his shirt torn and ragged. Maya felt the tension in the air as the wolf lunged for her and she rolled swiftly out of the way, however the wolf had turned his head and caught Maya's back. A warm flow of blood trailed down Maya's back as a large gash was formed on her back. Maya felt pain spread up her back as nerves went nuts to try and figure out where the pain was coming from. Maya was now alive and awake and she felt battle ready. Getting her footing right Maya turned her feet and quickly met face to face with the large grey wolf, she could feel it's hot breath against her face. Maya stared into the wolf's eyes as she lunged and felt the sword thrust into the wolf's heart, the light grew dark in it's eyes as it feel beside Maya, soon it's eyes glazed over and it was dead, no longer alive. Maya drew the sword from the wolf and wiped the access blood on the grass beneath her. The boy with the scars looked frightened and Maya looked over at him, her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing out here? You know slaves aren't aloud to be out here, especially not with a knife!" One of the women screeched and back handed him across the face. The boy winced as he felt no tears run down his cheek for he had spent them all on the pain of the scars. Maya raised a hand, "Enough! We will take him to the village. If someone claims him then he will be theirs if not he will be on auction." she grumbled. The women who back handed him nodded, narrowing her eyes at the boy and feeling she wanted to hit him again. But she refrained herself and grabbed the boy by his collar and throwing him on her horse, he looked like something the girls had shot and was taking to the village to be sold. Maya smirked at her own thoughtful comment but quickly climbed back on Asher as the patrol got back together and rode off towards the village.

The patrol reached the village in a short few minutes, the boy was put into a cell in the castle, until they could do further with him. Maya was about to sit and eat something when a women of the castle came over and whispered about Korbyn and what he had done. Maya's rage turned into quiet frustration. She nodded and thanked the women for telling her. Maya made her way down to where Korbyn sat, his arms were shackled and he sat quietly in the cell. "I won't always be here to cover for your mistakes." Maya murmured calmly to Korbyn, she'd had a long day and didn't want to stress over a small cup spill. If it had been any other women Korbyn probably would have gotten good lashes. But to Maya Korbyn was a faithful slave whom she'd practically grew up with. She had no other feelings than slight pity from time to time but in occasion's like this it was rare. "Your off the hook this time, just don't slip up again." she growled between clenched teeth, for a good measure Maya gripped his wrist tightly as she took off the shackles and released the royal slave. "Get back to work." she grumbled and walked past him, going back up the stairs, clearly not happy with the situation. As Maya arrived back up the stairs she soon found her mind reeling back to the boy they had found in the woods. She had so many questions and she decided to take a visit. Maya turned to find herself looking back for Korbyn. She found him in a matter of minutes. "Come with me. I have a job to do and would like you to be present." she murmured, giving no hint of emotion. Without waiting for a reply Maya headed back down the stairs and towards the cell the boy was in.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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#, as written by Deguu
Marcus straightened with a grateful sigh, standing at his full height of 6'2, and rolling his shoulders back. The dried blood cracked as he stood and rubbed his wrists, sending the pole he had been tied to a hateful glare. He looked back at the woman, his new mistress, as she spoke. Well, he looked down on her at least.

"You will come with me. You will have time for your lashes to heal, with food and water and then I will find you a job to do. I assume you prefer physical labor to cleaning houses?"

Her smirk made him smile, and his natural cocky nature returned as quickly as the blood did to his fingertips. Daring to glance up into her eyes for the briefest moment, he humbly replied "Yes, thank you, ma'am, physical labor is what I do best" He smirked, staring resolutely at the ground at his new mistresses feet. Even as he stood there, he became aware of his own thirst and mild hunger. As he stood there, he was aware of the punishment for indecent exposure in front of a woman, especially in public, so began to attempt to draw his tattered shirt around him.

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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Nodding and tapping her chin with her finger she gave him a critical look. He was rather tall and muscular, all of the slaves on her estate were smaller than he was, even the ones that worked in the fields. He looked to be more suited to the role of a soldier or guard. But she hadn't heard of a man being used for such purposes...her mother certainly hadn't. Valera, however, tried to find what work her slaves were best suited for. Saved her wasting time on pointless punishments and also increased the productivity of her work. It was all basic common sense really. Her mother had said... she shook her head. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things. Her mother was dead and the estate was hers to do with as she wished - that included the slaves.

"Hmmm... perhaps to save drama we will get you something from a tailor before going to the estate, it's a fair hike from here. Follow me and we'll get you something else to wear so you're properly covered." She knew the closest shop was one she owned and started to walk in the direction. It was only at the edge of the plaza and the owner stared in surprise at seeing her in there for the second time that day. "I need some clothes for a servant I just acquired. Please take his measurements and fit him with clothes appropriate for physical labor." The tailor nodded and hurried to grab the tools needed for her work. Valera turned to face the man.

"I do not know your name, mine is Valera. You may call me whatever title you have given to your previous mistresses." She gestured to where the tailor was waiting to measure him for the clothes. "Once you have something to wear that isn't completely ruined we will head home. There is something I need to deal with." She bit her lip in annoyance, why couldn't things run smoothly lately? If this was the same boy that had caused trouble last month she would have to punish him more severely than last time and that would be troublesome.

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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#, as written by Deguu
Marcus found himself nodding as his new mistress told him about finding new clothes. He sighed. No doubt that was a debt that he would have to pay off later. That meant long hours and hard work. It wasn't that he was lazy, not at all, but he just didn't enjoy the feeling of exhaustion that came from standing in a field all day long. He thought about what the payment would be as he followed her demurely to the tailors shop, where he stood awkwardly.

"I do not know your name, mine is Valera. You may call me whatever title you have given to your previous mistresses." Marcus wondered if she was asking his name, or simply stating the fact she was ignorant to that knowledge. And, he could think of many titles he had awarded previous mistresses that would get him send straight back to that thrice damned pole and the lash. He smirked nevertheless and decided he would reply to the statement. "My name is Marcus, my lady"

He had always hated calling women 'my lady', and he spoke the words with an attempt to hide the disdain behind them. He hated that he must assume each female he came across was nobility, or held some title. "Once you have something to wear that isn't completely ruined we will head home. There is something I need to deal with." Marcus saw her gesture to the tailor, who he had approached wearily before allowing himself to be measured. He remembered being a tailors assistant once. It had been his sole pleasure 'accidentally' poking customers with sewing needles when they weren't looking.

"Yes, my lady"

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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'Marcus....yes the name suits him.' While the man- Marcus stood for his measurements Valera let her mind wander to the matters with her slaves. They had been restless lately. A murmur here, a hidden glance there, a quiet that spread through the room once she entered. Sure, they had always showed her respect. She clothed them, fed them, made sure they didn't get sick and if they did she sent for a doctor. Her mother had always told her not to waste her time in such ways, if a slave dies a slave dies. But Valera hated 'shopping' for new workers and if hers were content and healthy then what was the problem? She began nibbling on her thumb while she stared out the window in thought.

She had to figure out what was going on before the empress caught word that she could control her estate. Several of the older women already thought that her being in charge of so much was a ridiculous notion and if she were to lose it all over some silly rebellion then how would she be able to regain her memories with no money, no resources and no power?

"Miss?"

Stupid people. Sure the world was always bound to change in one way or another and they should be capable of adapting with little bloodshed. But couldn't it wait until she at least remembered what was so damn threatening to her mothers position??

"...Miss Valera?"

She was shocked out of her thoughts and bit down, drawing blood on her thumb.

"Miss!" The tailor gasped but Valera just gazed at the drops of blood running down her thumb. She sighed and closed her eyes, the headache already forming.

"Yes?"

"...I've finished measuring him, I just need to get his clothes from the back. Is there anything else?"

How much time had she been drifting away? She pulled out her coin purse and set a few coins down on the counter for the purchase. "No. Marcus once you are dressed, meet me outside." The room was starting to cave in on her. Perhaps some fresh air would help to chase this headache away.

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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#, as written by Deguu
Marcus stood, demurely allowing the tailor to do his tailoring thing. He payed the measurements no attention, and stood, and moved as directed. On some subconscious level, he smiled to himself, quietly proud of the muscle that the tape measure revealed with its numbers. He gazed around the room, growing bored quickly. Bolts of cloth in every color imaginable lined the walls, and tables were set at regular intervals, each with its own sewing station. Marcus rose a brow and let his gaze fall upon his new mistress.

She appeared deep in thought, and her brow was furrowed very slightly as though she had been presented with some sort of puzzle to figure out, and she didn't notice his observances. A sharp poke of the needle made him scowl and jerk away with surprise, and he sighed gratefully as the tailor stepped away to address Valera. It took a few moments, and her absorption in her own thoughts made him smirk.

He nodded obediently as he was spoken to directly. "No. Marcus once you are dressed, meet me outside" He replied quietly, "Yes, ma'am" and scuffed his feet on the ground a little.

As the tailor scuttled away to fetch his clothes, Marcus stood awkwardly alone in the room.

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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The fresh air did help to wash her headache away; it took the edge off of that suffocating feeling in her chest as well. Valera sighed as she thought about what her mother would say. Taking on a slave that had been tied to a pole in the marketplace. Her mother would turn her nose up and say in a haughty voice "disgraceful." But her mother was dead. And Valera could do whatever she wished.

Once Marcus was dressed and they were ready to leave Valera headed in the direction of her home. It was a large estate but it wasn't too far away from the center of town; perfect walking distance. Which was great because the less time she could spending riding a damn horse the better. The walk was roughly about 15 minutes and the estate was mostly hidden from the frontal view by large hedges and a black iron gate. The man at the gate saw his mistress and quickly opened it, bowing lightly.

"Miss Valera, Shaun is dealing with the problem as you instructed." She nodded and continued to walk up the paved entrance to her home. There wasn't much space out front, a stable for some horses and a large garden, the majority of the property stretched out behind the manor. There was a servant waiting at the entrance to the house and he bowed before she waved a dismissive hand at him. Giving a small smile he straightened up and walked behind her to the dining room, speaking in a polite, though strained, tone of voice.

"We have him sitting by the door, I've made sure none of the furniture was damaged and there is no blood on the carpet."

Valera raised an eyebrow, having already relaxed a great deal since entering her own home. She made sure that Marcus was following. "Furniture can be replaced and blood can be cleaned. I do not however wish to be looking to find someone else to do his jobs while he recovers, so I trust that no one was overly rash in my absence?"

He twitched his lips at a small smirk before wiping it off his face and shaking his head. "No miss. He's been hit, but not injured."

"Good. When we are finished here see to it that our new addition receives some medical attention and a wash. His back is cut and covered in blood."

They entered the dining room and the boy from earlier, Shaun, bowed and smiled at seeing his mistress there to solve the problem. "He caught attempting to steal a bunch of food and weapons."

Valera nodded and walked forward to look at the man being held by two slaves. He had red hair, matching the blood on his face nearly, and his eyes were down on the floor. This man had only recently come into her service, maybe only a year ago. "Look at me." He obeyed hesitantly. "I give you food, clothes on your back, shelter and work. I tend to any wounds you have and I take care of each of you if you are sick. I remember all of your names and I would like to think that I give out fair punishments. So why, why would you try to steal from me?"

He bit his lip and looked away. She glared and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look in her eyes. "Why Ian?"

"...I have no reason, Mistress."

She hummed and released his chin, beginning to pace in front of him. "If I recall, I took you into my service after your previous owners caught you stealing. Now...I have seen slaves die from stealing a loaf of bread, and lets not get started on the punishments for stealing weapons. I don't wish to bring my headache back thank you. What to do with you." She paused, glancing briefly at Marcus before frowning and facing Ian again. He looked terrified and she smiled softly, she hadn't even done anything. "You will sleep in the cellar tonight, without dinner. Tomorrow we'll see. I'm too tired to deal with this anymore." The wait should be enough to scare him a bit more while she thought of a suitable punishment that didn't require her to find a new servant. "Shaun, see to it that he is put downstairs immediately. Also, I don't want anyone outside my estate knowing what he has done."

"Yes miss."

She walked out of the dining room, turning to Marcus on her way out, fighting not to appear tired. "You will have your wounds cleaned and dressed. Do not give anyone any trouble." She walked the rest of the way to her bedroom. Once behind the closed door she pulled out a book hidden in her bookshelf and began writing. She had discovered something extremely interesting today.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Valera Falen Character Portrait: Marcus Smithson
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#, as written by Deguu
Marcus obediently followed his new mistress from the tailor's shop. It felt good to be clothed again, and he carried a small package full of other spare items of clothes too. So. It seemed that this woman, Valera, was one of the kinder mistresses in the town. Marcus smirked as he dutifully walked three paces behind her, his eyes respectfully placed on the ground before him. He didn't talk, or speak, as was custom for slaves.

As they walked through the gates to her home, Marcus stole glances up and around at the buildings. A stables, and a garden. The stable peaked his interest. He had always enjoyed working with horses, and in particular he enjoyed working with those that would be put aside for being too willful, or too risky. He had always had a good hand with animals, finding the solace in them that he would rarely find in another person. Perhaps it was just because they didn't mind if he met their gaze. But no doubt he'd be put to work in a garden. He had worked well enough in gardens before, but had a tendency to pull up flowers, accidentally mistaking them for weeds. He smirked as he thought of it.

Marcus glanced up as his mistress was addressed by another slave.

"Miss Valera, Shaun is dealing with the problem as you instructed." The man said submissively. He instantly irritated Marcus. So demure, and so quiet. As though he had no personality of his own. Marcus' lips twitched as he followed, listening to the conversation. So a slave had rebelled? Stolen something? It all sounded very familiar. In his previous places of work, Marcus would have been promptly slapped by the mistress and sent straight out to that god damned pole in the center of town. The memory of it made him scowl.

Entering the room behind Valera, he saw the slave in question and bit his lip. His hair was red, the colour of the blood that stained his skin. He had known a mistress once who had been so adverse to red heads that if she deigned to have one work for her, he would be shaved first - from head to foot - regularly. The memory of one of her bald and hairless was incredibly amusing for him. And he coughed quietly to push away the laughter that would probably get him beaten.

This slave, Ian, seemed to be frozen with terror looking at his mistress. To Marcus, his mistress didn't look at all threatening as she regarded the rebel before her. In fact, she looked almost distant from him, until she snapped at him and grabbed his chin. The sight was almost comic as the slave recoiled. The abrupt change in stance from the woman herself though was what interested him. Either she was a very cold and calculating person, which he very much doubted, or she knew that fear was often the best tool for making a slave obedient. Either way, she was good.

Marcus quickly wiped the thoughtfully amused smile from his face as his mistress glanced at him.

"You will sleep in the cellar tonight, without dinner. Tomorrow we'll see. I'm too tired to deal with this anymore. Shaun, see to it that he is put downstairs immediately. Also, I don't want anyone outside my estate knowing what he has done." The mistress spoke, and she looked tired. Marcus observed this silently, his gaze fixed downwards. As she passed him and told him that he would be fed and looked after, he muttered a soft "Yes, my Lady. Thank you, ma'am"

As soon as she had left the room, Marcus looked up and stretched, and winked at the red head in front of him before following one of Valera's older slaves to his quarters, and allowed his back to be cleaned and seen to by another slave. He then enjoyed a hearty meal to fill his belly. Maybe his new mistress wasn't so bad after all.