{Jack Lillie} Captured {Chaotic Cello}

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Chaotic Cello

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Aysen kept his head down as they pushed him onto the platform. Ghastly magical yellow lights lit the wooden 'stage' that felt like the gallows, and it was taking all of Aysen's self control not to become a whimpering mess. Unnatural eyes surrounded him, from the demon slavers that surrounded him to the prospective....buyers in the crowd before him. There was some voice announcing things...his height, age and a bunch of other stuff that he blocking out in his panic.

They hadn't cut his hair. They called the long blond lock pretty....and they let him keep his clothes--sans the shoes---saying it was going to be his new master's choice what he was going to wear and they weren't going to waste time and resources dressing up product. They called him product.

He was being sold. Their rebel camp had been found and destroyed...and now he was being sold. His mouth was suddenly dry and he feel like he couldn't breath. People were shouting prices...he was going to be bought and it wasn't going to be good.

His hands nervously twitched within the shackles they had him in. Thick enough to keep him trapped, thin enough to display his tattoos that marked him his a rebel. Nobody good was going to buy him and there was no where to run. He became suddenly light headed and knew he was going to collapse. Aysen wouldn't be the first to do that tonight and he wasn't the last. It was only hopeless terror that he felt as his face hit the floor...by time he woke up he won't belong to himself anymore.
 
Sahara stood behind her father. They walked through the crowed and finally reached the area to buy a new slave. She looked around at the other demons who would lift thwir arm as the bidder shouted prices of the humans. Theirs had been sent away a few days ago because he refused to listen to her father.

Sahara looked up at the one who stood infront of everyone. It hurt her in a way, to see them standing up their. The way they stared at the ground. Their hearts seemed so crushed. Her father just watched not saying anything yet. But she nudged him gently. He glanced back at his daughter and sighed.

His deep and strong voicee could be heard over the others causing them to all back down. He had claimed this one and no one was going to fight for him knowing that Mr. Zaborowski has more money than them all.

The passed out man was taken off the stage and dragged to the side and out of the way as the next human was shoved onto the stage where the next bid began.
 
When Aysen woke up, a quick glance around told him he was in some form of holding area. He was sprawled out on the dirty ground, in some short of single person cage. There were other similar cages around him with people banging on the bars and even more with people being unlocked and handed off to their new owners.

Slowly, the former-rebel sat up and rubbed his head, shackles clanking. He must be in the area they are kept while payments and paperwork----if demons even have paperwork---was sorted out.

He realized escape (at least from his present location) was futile, so he simply sat, leaning against the bars waiting for whomever his owner may be; picking nervously at his cuticles to pass the time.
 
Sahara's father was filling out the paperwork at the time. She had wandered off from his side and looked into the bars down at the man who her father had just baught. "What are the markings on your hands?" She asked looking him over. She stood not to far away from the bars, just barley out of arms reach.

She had her arms by her side, her hair loose covering her bare shoulders. The dress she wore was a white the silky fabric reaching her knees. It was tight against her thin stomach and hung loose below her waist.

Curiosity could be seen in her eyes as she took a step closer to the bars taking a closer look at the boy. She's seen many humans, but the thingshe found most fascinating was the looks in their eyes. You could look onee in the eye and almost see exactly what theyvwere feeling or thinking.
 
Aysen nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard he voice. All cuticle picking stopped and he looked up at the demoness, meeting her gaze. His first thought was that she was pretty, his second was that maybe he could take her on in a fight (even though he is a lousy fighter) and escape. His third was that she was his owner, and that he probably should not be looking her right in the eye.

He quickly averts his blue eyes from her and then finds a very interesting spot on the ground to stare at. He then remembers her question and holds out his hands as if to give her a better look.

"They are the marks that the hunter clan uses to signify membership of the rebellion." He said, quietly. This used to be one of their secrets to allow members to identify each other; but when you mark every single person of a secret group the same, people eventually catch on. It has been relatively common knowledge for some years now and now was mostly done as a tradition....it also normally marked captured members for death rather than slavery---but it appeared that demons had a change if policy about that.
 
Sahara didn't say anything elsee but looked down at him. Not long after her father joined her side. He sighed and stwpped out of the way as a demon opened the cage door.

"Get up." The heavy set demon growled with little patiens. he held papers in his hand, the one Saharas father had filled out. The other hand held a key to the chains that held tight onto the humans raw wrists. "Get moving. I don't have all day!" He continued to bark and handed Mr.Zaborowski the key to the chains.

Sahara stood behind her father as she watched this. You could tell she didn't care for this demon. He seemed angry and rude, so as usual she hid behind her father her dark hair hiding her sparkling eyes. Other cages seemed to raddle as the weak humans looked out of ir cages. It made her feel uncomfortable and antsy to leave, seeing they were being watched she stared at the ground biting her lip, a very bad habbit she had developed as a nervouse child.
 
Aysen tried to get up as quick as he could. Disobeying right now wouldn't do him any good at all and would only result in injury. As much as he resented it, he could bid his time until an opportunity presents itself to him.

Unfortunately, quick as he could was not quick enough for his jailer as he was pulled up by his chains, chaffing his already raw wrists. He couldn't help it as that winced in pain.

The second he did it, he knew that was bad in his current company...but he couldn't take it back. Figuring speaking without permission to apologize would make the situation worse, Aysen just lowered his gaze to the ground, standing back straight and silent.
 
His new master sighed and took the chains. He pulled on them once the purchase was done. Home wasn't to far. The all walked silently with Sahara in the lead. She would smile looking at the sights, the shops and the people. She acted like a little girl honestly, the way she veiwed things with such innocents and kindness.

They reached the large home after the long walk. The sweet girl walked off and went towards her room as her father delt with the slave. "I'd rather not keep you in chains. But if you prove that I can not trust you then I will put them back on you." He warned. Axel, her father, unlocked the chains and put a bracelet on his wrist. A tracker. If he tries to attempt to run off he will be found immediately. If he tries to leave the propery without permission from his new owner, he will be shocked.

"Your list of chores will be given to you in the morning. You sleep down in the basement. You do notspeak without permission and your chorse are to be done before sleep. Is that understood?"
 
Aysen followed the pair home silently, not that he really had a choice. He was fairly certain he could overpower the girl---but the man, evidently he father, he knew he didn't stand the slightest chance.

His eyes stayed mostly downcast on the walk, but he occasionally glanced at Sahara from the corner of his eye. It made a, thankfully, unnoticed gentle smile grace his face. He could only hope that he wouldn't be forced to hurt her in his eventual escape.

Once in the house, he was thankful that then chains were removed, but frowned when a bracelet was placed on his wrist. It was tight and not offered an explanation, but he had an idea.

The rest of the directions he was given was only listened to with half an ear as Aysen contemplated ways of moving the braclet. It took home a moment when he realized he was asked a question. "Yes?" he said, not sounding very confident before adding on a hastily murmured bowed head and a "Sir."

Sir he could manage, Master he could not.
 
Axel sighed slightly disappointed. "I don't know what she sees in you." He muttered and shruuged. He turned and walked off revealing a shy girl standing around a corner.

She had pulled off her shoes by now and stood on her tip toes looking over at the human. A smile appeared on her smooth lips. She didn't move and watched him, will he run? Is he like the other fearful slaves and try to run away even with the tracker?

Sahara began biting her lip again but stopped as another smile grew on her face. Her eyes sparkled the sunset shinning in the window across from her.
 
Aysen visibly relaxed as soon as Axel left the room, not before storing his comment away in his memory. If the girl saw something---whatever that something might be--he fully planned to find a way to use it to his advantage.

He began glancing about the room, inspecting. He was sorely tempted to bolt right out the front door. But it was too easy, and the heavy weight of the bracelet reminded him of this. He experimentally twisted it to see if it would become any looser, but it was to know avail. He was going to need a tool or a key to remove the thing.

Walking around the room, oblivious to Sahara watching, he began a more in-depth inspection. He was opening drawers on tables, rummaging through cabinets, and perusing cupboards for anything useful.
 
Sahara watched him quietly. He seemed so determined on something he's not going to get off. She smiled and stepped forward into the room. Moving lightly on her feet she went to a bookshelf that leaned up against the wall.

Shevstoof on her tip toes her fingertips barley reached the top. Her gentle fingers wrapped around something on top of the bookshelf. Bringing it down in her hand she held out the little screw driver. Offering it to the human she smiled knowing very well that he wasn't going to get the bracelet off.
 
Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Aysen halted his rummaging and attempted to look natural.

Though, to his surprise, it was just Sahara...and he was not being scolded. His eyes widened and he stared at the offered screwdriver warily. Was this some form of trick?

Very cautiously, he took the proffered screwdriver from her hand---but he did not immediately do anything with it. If this was some form if it trap, it would not look good for him to attempt to remove the bracelet in front of her.
 
Sahara's smile grew seeing he did nothing. She nodded and looked down at it. "Go on?" She said encouraging him. No it wasn't a trap. But she wanted him to realize that he wasn't going to get this thing off. It was made of a strong metal that wont break.

She glanced up at the clock, super will be soon. She looked back at Aysen messes with a loose peice of string at the bottom of her silky dress as she watched him wondering if he'll actually try to get it off.
 
Aysen was now convinced it was a trap. There was no reason for her to encourage him... But hey couldn't resit trying. He offered a catious try brore taking the screwdriver and at least attempt to bend or loosen the band.

Unfortunately, the bracelet was on his right--and dominant---wrist. So as he tried to slip the screw driver between the bracelet and his wrist his hand slipped.

The screw driver wasn't super sharp, but it was sharp enough to cut his already damaged wrist. The hunter swore as it flated up and pain and drew blood.
 
Saharas smile faded a little as she saw the blood come out of his wrist. She turned around and walked out of the room without a word. Within a few seconds she came back holding a small cloth in her hand.

She carfully stepped towards him and brought the cloth to his wrist. She watched as the cloth soaked up his red warm blood. She carfully tied the cloth on thee other side oh his wrist creating a large bamdage on his arm.
 
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