Completed The gilded Cage

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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 gilded Cage

Postby Hwyn on September 18th, 2016, 10:28 pm

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81st 516Av Fall, evening


Anticipation and paranoia, are two things that do not mix well. There was a time when an invitation to dinner at someone house would have made him excited, such an invitation tended to be a prelude to a good meal and company, however, Hwyn hardly liked the idea of going anywhere new in Ravok. There was fear in him that told him he might not even reach his destination. That said, he had enjoyed his evening with Evarista before, and didn't want to ruin the possibility of an ally just because he was nervous that something would attack him on his way to her house.

That said he was going to be transported to the house so it wasn't something he'd have to worry about too terribly much. He was going to someone's house so he decided he would actually prep himself this time. Staring at his nude form in his mirror Hwyn frowned, the black dress had telltale stitching marks where it had been rent through by the spider. His ribs on his left side also bore a fairly decent cut that was only now starting to truly seal up. Pulling on the red underwear with lace trim Hwyn smiled, he'd bought them in Syliras but rarely had the occasion to wear them since he liked to save them for special occasions. Then pulling on the black stocking Hwyn grinned and did a small pirouette in front of the mirror. He liked his shape. it might not be perfect but his body had a certain charm to it, more when the scars were hidden, of course, hwyn didn't like his scars at all, but he wasn't able to remove them so his lot was to accept them. beyond that his body didn't bother him, he was a runt for certain, growth spurts ruined by starvation and the atrophy of his muscles while young didn't leave him with to much hope that even now that he was healthy that he'd grow all that much. That said he liked his size he was easily missed and could go places larger people could not, wich had benefitted him on multiple occasions.

Pulling on the black tunic Hwyn pulled it down so that it reached it's full length at just above his knees, Hwyn was a firm believer in showing just the right amount of skin to be tasteful. then came his hair, brushing it until it was straight and free of tangles hwyn grinned at how it hung down his back almost touching the middle of his spine, it was getting longer slowly. following up with makeup Hwyn allowed the rouge to redden his cheeks and his bottom lip. then Tracing his eyes with Kohl Hwyn grinned at his reflection. He really did like the way he looked, a little rough around the edges but he was sanding them down with time.

Making his way back to work quickly Hwyn saw the same Akalak that had previously taken him to the clothing store with Evarista. Stepping into the boat Hwyn looked at the man who showed no real emotion when he stepped into the ravalosa.

"You are here for me right?"

Nodding once the man quietly pushed off of the dock and silently began the process of rowing them to back to the Nitrozean manor.


Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy
Last edited by Hwyn on September 21st, 2016, 1:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The gilded Cage

Postby Evarista on September 19th, 2016, 6:38 pm

Evarista was pacing back and forth in her room, heart racing wildly. In a rare moment of lucidity, there were countless thoughts racing through her head. Thoughts of the future. Few of them good. It was difficult to endure. She periodically stopped at the windowsill to give Archibald's jar a hug, seeking her silent companion's comfort though the cold glass. There would be none today. This anxiety would not subside until everything was over... if it ever came to pass.

She waited for the blonde boy. She still couldn't remember his name, only his voice filled her head. That, and the nagging fear that he would not show up. Maybe he changed his mind, maybe he'd run away at the last moment. He had no reason or obligation to not do so. He was free, and answered to no one. Evarista hated that. She wanted control, but with control came responsibility. It was an open question with no good answers.

The girl's sporadic ruminations were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"Yes."

"The commission is ready, my lady. Do you want to take a look at it?" The muffled voice of Bryony could be heard from the other side of the door. The maid liked to avoid entering Evarista's room if she could help it.

"Yes. I'll be down in a moment."

Sounds of retreating footsteps beyond the door. Silence again.

It really was amazing how such a relatively intricate item could be forged on such short notice, but it wasn't a surprise. When Sitanos Nitrozian was giving the orders, things happened fast. They must've brought in a blacksmith from the Merchant District or something. In any case, the girl was a little curious about this. If anything, it would help distract her from her thoughts while Imhon brought the boy home. Her home, and soon his as well.

Evarista left her room and headed downstairs, but before she could make it to the ground floor, Bryony came rushing again, looking agitated.

"He's here...!" The maid whispered loudly, widening her eyes and covering her mouth in a conspiratory fashion. Her body language gave the signs that there was something noteworthy about to happen. Unnecessary theatrics in Evarista's eyes, but everyone else seemed to like such things. Suppressing her annoyance, she walked briskly past the maid and headed straight to the front entrance of the blooded family residence, where the boy would be received.

There he was. The blonde boy. Victor had politely invited him inside. In any other scenario, the guard would have shooed him away, but there was an invitation, no longer just from Evarista, but also from Sitanos. All the servants treated him like a honored guest, ushering him into the foyer with care.

Descending the final flight of stairs and approaching to greet him, Evarista strained her overgiven eyes as best she could. He looked like he had dressed up. Evarista seldom paid attention to people's clothes, but she noticed his new look, much more civil and appealing than his basic maid robe. He was even wearing makeup. Her monochrome vision was unable to appreciate all the details, but she was still glad. No one ever dressed to impress for her benefit before. Thoughts of closes flew out of her mind as soon as she met his eyes. Just as the last time, they were the only islands of color in the grey world. Enticing, beautiful color. She didn't know why this was, but she felt her somewhat subsided heartbeat pick up again.

Straining to look inviting, Evarista raised her hand in a greeting with a tired smile on her face. Like before, she opened her mouth to call his name, and once again she closed it in failure.

"Hmm... I'm happy that you came. Dinner is served. Let us proceed."

She made a gesture towards a corridor leading away from the foyer and deeper into the building, leading her guest through the lavish mansion, two servants in tow. None of this wealth existed thanks to her, and in a just world, she'd have none of it. She'd have no opportunity to do what she was about to do. Every time she thought of that, she smirked smugly to herself. The pair walked along the gilded corridors, supposedly heading to the dining hall. They were not heading to the dining hall. Evarista tried to convince her father to at least serve dinner first, but no. Food would come later. The boy would find it worth the wait.

They finally reached the end of the corridor, facing a large double door. It opened before them on its own, pulled by hands from the inside of the room. As soon as they entered, the servants that followed them closed the doors behind them. Another two servants were standing on the inside, attending the pair wordlessly in stead of the ones left in the corridor.

They were in a large parlor. The curtains were closed, so the room was surprisingly dark, with only one source of light. The fireplace across from the door lit up the middle of the space, set with a single round table and several chairs. Off to the sides, six silhouettes of decorative plate suits cast ominous shadows on the walls, clutching glimmering weapons in their rigid hands. Oh... no, not decorative at all. The armor suits were occupied, which became apparent soon enough if one paid attention. Six pairs of eyes watched the pair from behind the visors, owners standing still as statues.

The table in the middle of the room carried only one object, a strange metal prong of some sort; it was difficult to see what it was in the flickering fire. Evarista looked down at the blonde boy. Her breathing was uneven, and her forehead was glistening with sweat. Saying that formalities were not her forte would be a tremendous understatement. But she had to do it. This was a point of no return. The boy would not walk out of here without her permission. And this permission would be granted only on one condition.

As if struck by a revelation, Evarista flinched. She remembered his name. Suddenly, it came out of nowhere to her. She took his hand gently, looking at him with her cloudy eyes, and spoke. Her voice was low and slightly weary, much like in the morning, but there was a slight tremble to it. Something about her tone indicated that she was not open to compromises.

""Dinner will be a little late. I'm... it's... apologies. I'll make it up to you." She took a deep breath before gathering the courage to say the words of doom.

"Hwyn. I want you... to become mine."

There was no hint of romantic euphemism. The young aristocrat's admission was completely, unambiguously, absolutely literal in its meaning.

A bright flicker of the firelight finally revealed the object on the table. It was a branding iron.
Last edited by Evarista on September 20th, 2016, 5:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
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The gilded Cage

Postby Hwyn on September 20th, 2016, 5:12 am

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Gilded Cage



There is something to be said for warm greetings, but in situations when a pauper is greeted like a prince, one cannot help but feel out of place and uncomfortable. Even at the gates hwyn felt that the welcome he received was excessive, that or Evarista was more glad to have him over than her quiet invitation had previously eluded to. Ushered into the main foyer Hwyn found himself staring wide eyed at how decadent the building was. He'd lived in one of the nicest houses in Sunberth but this was something else entirely.

The household was uncomfortable, so many eyes were on him, servants, guards, everyone, all looking at him in the foyer, the discomfort was only broken by the sound of footsteps and the appearance of the one who had invited him here. she greeted him in her normal monotone voice. As per usual, he gaze was locked on him, but somehow the stare felt more unnerving than it had before. Nodding into a slight bow to Evarista Hwyn smiled at her when she came to greet him. When she began to lead him deeper into the mansion flanked by two servants, it was strange though even with so many people present it felt like the mansion was holding its breath, like everyone was waiting on something, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

When they came to a room hidden behind double doors Hwyn had at first assumed that that would be where the dining was to take place, he couldn't have been further from correct. When Evarista turned to him the look she gave him was one that he didn't understand, but he knew it chilled him to his core. When she took his hand and began to speak Hwyn's frown deepened. He didn't like where this was going.


"Dinner will be a little late. I'm... it's... apologies. I'll make it up to you."

"Hwyn. I want you... to become mine."

When the words left her mouth Hwyn trembled like an invisible force had taken a hold of his body, he could feel himself beginning to sweat and his stomach suddenly felt as if its contents were ablaze. so this was what he was here for, he knew he was stupid, she hadn't wanted a friend, she'd wanted a toy, and dumbly enough Hwyn had walked into the woman's trap without even suspecting the treachery within. What was on the table behind that woman that held his hand was not a meal, but a brand and it didn't take much imagination to conclude what it was there for. Cattle wasn't branded in this room, and that left only one option.

Looking at Evarista, hwyn stared her hard in the eyes, his glare was sad but it kendled an grim understanding. the clarity of his gaze was only ruined by tears that escaped without his permission.

"Miss Evarista, their are some things in life.. that cannot be... made up for."

Pulling the neck of his tunic and down to the left hwy revealed a patch of bare skin that was just above his pectoral muscle, if he was getting branded he was at least going to try and influence it's location, he didn't want a brand on his face like he'd seen some cruel slavers do.

"You'd better do it yourself.... after all you've been working towards this moment.... It'd be a shame if you lost your nerve at the end."

Hwyn grinned at the woman, the smile didn't make it to his eyes but a sudden surge of apathy gave him courage to be snide. If the woman did the deed herself Hwyn would say no more to her, just fix her with a sad gaze as she carried out her goals. He'd been played this time, and as such here he was once a gain being dragged by fates cruel hands, from sunberth to Syliras and syliras beyond, Hwyn had been at the mercy of people more cunning than himself. Why should that change now?


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The gilded Cage

Postby Evarista on September 20th, 2016, 7:53 am

Evarista held her breath as she waited for his response. Her hand was still holding his, the grip getting slightly firmer as the stress of the situation rose. All of the unfortunate things that could happen now flashed through her mind. He could refuse. Maybe he would struggle and scream. Maybe he'd even fight. The heavily armed guards that surrounded them didn't leave him any hope of escaping, but even when there was no hope, some would choose to fight. Some valued their freedom more than their life. Evarista had met such people, and they were not only stubborn in their love of liberty, but also uncompromising in the the face of disaster. If Hwyn was such, she wouldn't be able to handle it. Even if the guards wrestled him now and branded him by force, she wouldn't be able to control him in the long run.

Instead, the boy showed a completely different kind of bravery. His bright eyes met hers with a grim determination, and it took all her willpower to not look away. For a moment, it seemed like he was a much larger presence than herself. Evarista's half-closed eyelids twitched. She wasn't using any auristics, but she could still feel the tenacity radiating from him, the tenacity of a man who has been beset by storms worse than this, and still came out on the other side. It humbled her, but it also made her want to own him even more.

Evarista lead him to the table and picked up the branding iron gingerly. There was heat already emanating from the other end. Was it because it was freshly forged, or did someone prepare it ahead of time? Whatever the case, it wouldn't take long to heat it up to the desired temperature. A small wave of relief washed over the girl. Having to wait for half an hour in this tension would have suffocated her.

She handed the iron to one of the servants, who wrapped the wooden handle in an insulating cloth and placed the tip of the iron in the scorching heat of the fireplace. The other servant placed a bowl of water on the table and dipped a length of clean fabric in it, wringing it out to leave it moist. It would serve as a bite block for Hwyn. Meanwhile, the corners of the brand were already beginning to glow a cherry-red color. The design of the tip became visible; it was Evarista's monogram.

That thing, huh? She forgot that she even had a monogram, as this was the first reason to ever use it for anything. Slaves belonging to the household or to a trading company were usually branded with a large letter "N" or a more generic symbol. Personal slaves, however, were branded with the monogram of the owner to distinguish the slave as a separate possession. The number of personal slaves one owned was an indication of a family member's status and a matter of prestige. Funny thing, then, that this would suddenly elevate her in the eyes of her peers. She didn't want this. She liked to stay obscure. Even so, the increasing glow of her iron-forged monogram awoke a sense of accomplishment in her. She'd leave a mark upon the world... somehow!

The servant attending the iron pulled the object out of the fire with thick leather gloves and removed the hot cloth covering the handle. Evarista took the iron again, finding the wooden handle to be cold enough to touch. The glowing symbol hit her face with a wave of heat, mesmerizing her for a moment. The other servant seated Hwyn on one of the chairs at the table, helped him remove the blouse, and gave him the moist cloth to bite down on. Everything was ready.

Turning to face the boy with the burning iron in her grip, the girl's countenance changed. Hesitation the hesitation was gone from her movements. Although her tired expression remained the same, a bright spark of sadistic elation flared up in her eyes. Looming over the boy as the two servants' hands held his small body firmly, she brought the iron to his chest, just above his heart. Their eyes met again right in that moment. A strange sensation surged though the young aristocrat, like a jolt of lightning, a special pleasure she could not describe.

The smell of charred skin pierced the air before the glowing iron was withdrawn. Left behind was a clearly visible mark of her superimposed initials; a seal of ownership imprinted on his body.

No... It was her body now.

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The gilded Cage

Postby Hwyn on September 20th, 2016, 1:14 pm

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Gilded Cage


It was one thing to have a moment of bravery, it was another thing entirely to watch the brand about to sear your flesh heat up before your eyes. Swallowing hard Hwyn let his eyes flicker from the brand to the woman. Even as his tunic was pulled of and he was given a cloth to bite down on his mind raced, the desire to flee, to run, to fight was hard to deny, he knew that the wages of running were death, so this, while painful would at least prolong his life. But for how long?

When the time came for the brand to be pressed into his skin, to leave a permanent mark on him what courage he had pulled out of thin air quickly left him, he'd been whipped and beaten before, but still the anticipation of inevitable pain was something that he could hardly shrug off, he really, reaaally didn't want to do this. What was coming to him was not only a great pain but a great contract, once that brand touched him he was no longer a person... he was just an item... just something to be owned and used. He was once again just a toy to the rich, such was his origin, and such was would be his end, his escape and flight from sunberth, it was never really an escape, just the changing of hands from one owner to another, and fate was his cruel merchant. He was just a puppet to be played with by the gods that ruled this world, and it seemed they didn't favor him too terribly much.

Well... he'd never been to terribly favoured by anyone, aside from his first master that was and she had grown bored with him and he had survived, so to would he persevere again, that said he was trying to think of a thousand things at once to distract himself from the imminent pain he was about to experience. When the brand neared his flesh he locked eyes with Evarista, wanting her to feel the pain he was about to feel, when the brand touched, it felt like a thousand needles were puncturing his flesh over and over again it felt like the blood in his chest was boiling, he might have screamed if their was air in him to scream with but it felt like it had all left him it felt like it hurt for an eternity as the woman pressed the molten iron into his chest. He wanted so badly to force the woman to feel penance for what she was doing but his will power alone could not fuel him. His head hung as the brand drew away from him, the smell of his own destroyed flesh his his nose and a glistening black and red symbol now adorned his flesh. In the shock of the pain a odd thought floated through his head, what was the symbol? he didn't think it looked like a picture of anything, but it must be something right?

His fingernails had dug into the chair and Hwyn wasn't sure if his legs would support him if he stood up, it hurt so bad, it felt like the brand was still pressing into him. Why did people feel the need to do such a thing, was branding someone really necessary to prove ownership.... wow it really hurts. He didn't have anything to say to the woman, in fact he couldn't find any words at all, it hurt so bad, it felt like his throat had seized up.

Letting the now well chewed rag fall limply into his lap Hwyn pondered his new existence. At least he still had his name, or did even that belong to him anymore? He had fallen into a trap that robbed him of his very self, his options were to accept, or to die, other options might make themselves viable in the days to come, but for the moment it felt like his fortitude was drained and his consciousness was leaving him, his brain trying to force him into sleep so that his mind could hide away from the horrors his body was experiencing. as his eyeleds sealed themselves Hwyn thought to himself.

"I am still me, right?"


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The gilded Cage

Postby Evarista on September 20th, 2016, 6:13 pm

The pain in his bright eyes absorbed her. Better than ever before, she could feel the intensity radiating from the islands of color in contrast to the grey world before her, rays of emotions piercing her like lances. It was consuming, almost sensual, and she wanted to return it. Undeniably, there was a connection forming between them. Inside of her arose the excitement of assuming control over another, overwhelming them, subsuming them under herself. Evarista vaguely understood why people thirsted for power. Wealth and security were logical reasons, but underneath that was the craving for this exact feeling. But that was not all. Even deeper inside, there was an even darker, even more secret blaze slowly coming to life: the excitement of presiding over suffering.

Having withdrawn the branding iron girl stood frozen with the hot metal still half-raised into the air, eyes staring dumbly at the agonized face of her prisoner. Her possession. As his eyelids drooped and his body went limp in the servants' arms, her unblinking gaze trailed down to the monogram scorched into his flesh. She only managed to look away when the servants began wrapping the boy's chest in linen bandages, concealing the wound from view. Still in a half-daze from the onslaught of new sensations, she returned to the table and set the iron down into the bowl of water that was previously left there. After a loud hiss and a brief eruption of steam, the monogram was no longer glowing. It was time to put it away. Probably forever. Secretly, the desire of doing this again to someone else was already lurking in her mind.

Submerged deep in thought, she followed the two servants as they carried the boy's unconscious body out of the room. The rattle of armor behind her told that the guards were dispersing back to their routine duties, now that this brief mission was over with. Brief as it was, it felt like an eternity to her, and she trotted idly behind the servants with exhaustion plaguing her body and mind alike.

A smartly dressed middle-aged man with a powdered wig and spectacles met the small procession in the foyer. A servant nearby was holding his coat, so he had apparently just arrived. Furrowing her eyebrows slightly, she remembered him as a lawyer; he was the notarius publicus that the family members sometimes invited to affirm the authenticity of various business documents. Noticing Evarista, he greeted her politely with a small smile. She looked down awkwardly and replied after a small pause. The social anxiety had returned. Now that she was tired, she was even less in the mood for official conversations.

The man joined their small convoy, laconically explaining his visit as the five of them headed towards a guest room. Sitanos has summoned him to draft the ownership certificate, a document containing Evarista's signature and Hwyn's handprint. Handprint? Strange. It did become more clear once they sat down in the guest room and the lawyer unpacked the necessities from his snazzy crocodile-leather briefcase. The certificate had a short pre-written text with two blanks, where the fair and honorable Owner solemnly proclaimed their ownership of and responsibility for the humble and obsequious Slave, and all the words and deeds of the latter. Evarista had some difficulty understanding the intricacies, nodding absent-mindedly as the lawyer recited the text. The man then brought out his writing utensils and entered Evarista's name in the Owner blank and Hwyn's name in the Slave blank.

Finally, he brought out a strange-looking wooden box, the inside filled with an ink-saturated sponge. With some help from the attending servants, Hwyn's unconscious hand was pressed first into the sponge, and then onto the empty bottom portion of the certificate, leaving a sharply outlined black handprint. The lawyer explained that with the use of certain arcane knowledge, the handprint could be used to identify the slave if he was caught as an escapee or a criminal, or confirm his identity to the Ebonstryfe, so that he would be entitled to their protection should the need arise. With this certain arcane knowledge, was he talking about auristics? While a little curious, the girl was not in a state to have a discussion. She simply agreed to everything he said and signed the parchment when prompted. The certificate would be left to dry, and then attached to her own citizenship papers. Phew. Hopefully that would be he end of the formalities.

After bidding the notarius good night and leaving the unconscious Hwyn in the care of the servants, Evarista returned to her room. Her overgiven body was heavy as lead, and her mind could not muster a single coherent thought. A glance towards the window showed that it was already dark outside. This day has been so full of strain, nausea and anxiety that the girl barely made it to her bed, not even bothering to undress as she flopped down and felt sleep claim her immediately. Just before everything went black, a stray thought skimmed across her mind.

Was she an adult now?
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The gilded Cage

Postby Crow on October 3rd, 2016, 1:15 am

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Torture is only a spectacle that is seen from eyes of unbridled feelings.


 
Hwyn
Skills
  • Socialization +2
    Endurance +2
    Observation +1
Lores
  • Lore:Hwyn: Wary of being attacked
    Hwyn: A toy to the rich
    Ravok: Ravasola and easier way to travel
    Nitrozian Estate: Welcomes as a slave
    Nitrozians Estate: Slaves are treated well
    Endurance: Bravery through a branding
    Hwyn: Branded to the nitrozian family
Miscellaneous
  • You are now branded to the Nitrozian family in Ravok. This burnt symbol will remain with you forever.


 
Evarista
Skills
  • Observation +2
    Torture +2
Lores
  • Lore:Hwyn: Mine
    Observation: Noticing determination
    Torture: Branding
    Torture: Burning someone can knock them unconscious
    Observation: Emotional fortitude
    Evarista: Slowly becoming a Sadist
    Evarista: Using a slave to prove her worth
Miscellaneous
  • Item granted: A branding iron baring the mark of "NE" at the end in fancy lettering. The letter is bare the mark of the Nitrozian Family and it's slaves.

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