The Aristocrat

Collector of Fine Goods. [Zvi]

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

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The Aristocrat

Postby Lazybones on February 3rd, 2012, 7:05 pm

Shannon's fist squeezed his cane until his skin blanched from the pressure. For a moment, it looked almost as if the aristocrat would strike him with it. The falcon's head ornament was crafted with a sharp beak; it could probably kill in a single strike. He didn't, though. The item remained steady at his side, and eventually he loosened his grip.

The noble dispatched one more onceover at the Ethaefal's perfect structure. Even having no sexual attraction to him, Shannon could appreciate the man's flawless body, angular features, and soft hair. It had made him jealous, but for the differences in their caste. What a waste. He was truly a work of art. "Men of conviction are my least favorite sort. " Huffing a disappointed sigh, he made for the door while he fished for the key inside his pocket. "Come, then, let's return you to where you belong."

A small noise erupted from Ares' throat. Her pale body shifted, still compacted upon the floor. Although Shannon heard it, he did not pause. The Konti grew more desperate.

"Master, please wait!"

He continued on. "Ares, I'm running out of patience with you."

"I don't want him to die!"

Shannon arrived at the door and stopped. The sigh that left his nostrils sounded more like a growl. For a moment, his head hung in what might have looked like defeat. Ares, still seated naked on the floor at the foot of the bed, watched him anxiously as she hugged her slender, pale knees. Finally, Shannon turned, his dusky eyes like pointed daggers as they set upon her. He said nothing; the darkness in his gaze demanded an explanation.

Ares took the cue and swallowed, looking down. "I know the Ebonstryfe comes for his master," she whispered desperately, her breathy voice sounding wet and crystalline. "Even now, torches are at the ready for the shop. If you bring him back now, he'll burn with the rest of that man's belongings."

Shannon's head dipped to the side. "This is true, and furthermore, it was the very point. You shouldn't know any of this."

"I have visions."

The noble rubbed at his eye. "Yes, I know. Tell me then, why don't you want this creature to die, and why should I care?"

Ares' silvered violet eyes, even at a moment like this, were still hollow and empty as they slid toward the Ethaefal. The barest hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her lip. Yet she seemed more to be looking through him, as if she saw something there behind his gentle eyes that not even he knew was there. A moment passed before the Konti worded her reply, so it was hurried by the sound of Shannon's cane impatiently hitting the floor.

"He is young and naïve. Faithful and strong by his standards, disillusioned and weak by yours. I can teach him how to live, how to obey. Please, Master, I can make him better. Allow me to speak with him. He can still be yours."

The noble turned his gray eyes to Zvi, his features remaining stolid. "I'm not impressed, Ares, but this room has become stifling. I will go for some air. You have five minutes."

When he left the room, the door locked behind him. Ares buried her face in her arms.
I am a friendly fascist. I am a tyrant that you should trust. And you should let me run your life, because I do know what is best for you.

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The Aristocrat

Postby Zvi on February 21st, 2012, 3:37 am

Zvi remained rigid and silent as they spoke, keeping his head bowed. He had already pushed his luck too far, and he wondered just how long it would be before one of these men grew too tired of him and sent him back to Syna. Could it even be done? He lost himself to these thoughts while the Master and slave spoke. When at last Shannon left the room, his tired eyes turned to Ares.

“I am to simply...do this thing he asks of me? To...hurt you so that his pleasure might be sated?” His tone was even, emotionless. “This is what he wants of me? To make a collector's piece of me like one of the trinkets from Master's store?”

He sighed and pushed himself away from the wall.

“It's disgusting. Why would he purchase me if he's not going to touch me?”

His nose wrinkled. “Am I to breed you? Is that what he wants?” Passion raised in his tone now, angry and intense. “Like some sort of animal?!?”
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The Aristocrat

Postby Lazybones on March 1st, 2012, 11:12 pm

"Please," Ares said softly, almost in a whisper. She could barely be heard as her face was still buried in her arms. Slowly, she began to uncurl herself, allowing her pale, lilac eyes dart across the floor. A delicately webbed hand feathered through her short, white hair. She wiped at her mouth with the scaly back of her hand. "Calm yourself." Finally, she slowly rose to her feet with incredible fluidity and grace. She was akin to a white bird unfurling its wings to greet the morning.

Leaving herself unclothed, Ares moved around the large bed and toward the window. Pearlescent scales shimmered upon her body in the warm, early evening sunlight. In clothing, Ares could nearly pass for human, but now it was truly clear that she was not native to this city. Shining, fish-like scales ran down the full length of her back, instead of simply garnishing the backs of her hands and the tops of her feet. A pattern of scales also spiraled up her thin legs. Perhaps Zvi didn't know it, but here stood the granddaughter of Laviku and Avalis. Her beauty was literally divine, much like Ethaefal.

"Would you prefer that he ruts you himself?" she asked harshly as her lavender eyes found the window. Though her features seemed young, her voice was deepened with age. "Don't worry, he won't. He can't. I've told you before; my master is not a cruel man, but nor is he kind. He would never harm you, or strike you, or kill you. The Master will, however, throw you to the wolves if he has no need of you. He sees violence as unsavory and uncouth. That is why he is having your master killed for swindling his wife, instead of doing it himself."

Ares turned and sat in the windowsill. Two delicate hands folded in her lap, covering herself and, perhaps, proving that even she still had a modicum of dignity. "I know, because I am Konti, that you will die if you return. If you choose to die, rather than serve Master Shannon, then I cannot stop you. But… please… do not throw your life away for pride. My daughter, she… her father was Ethaefal. He was very different from you, but he was just as beautiful. Seeing you, with your horns… it makes me remember my life before. I know that is selfish."

Her gemlike eyes turned upward, hard and lifeless, even though she tried to make herself look emotional. It seemed beyond Ares, to feel anything anymore, yet she was here begging Zvi to endure. What could make someone so hopeless cling desperately onto a life of nothing but servitude and humiliation? "With life, there is endless possibility. Perhaps you will be a slave forever, or perhaps you will be set free tomorrow. With death, there is nothing. Not even your dignity. Would you really spit in the face of your goddess and surrender the life she gave you?"
I am a friendly fascist. I am a tyrant that you should trust. And you should let me run your life, because I do know what is best for you.

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