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(Oh, uh, translation: He'll be aiight cause I'm gettin out yo house by the end of next week, boy! Booyaaahhh!)

6/21/2012 . Edited 6/21/2012 #31
Chainsaw Cake

"Well, first..." Annelise said with a cold smile, "does anybody want to make a bid with actual money on this degenerate?"

Silence. Nobody would want such defective merchandise.

"Looks like you're in luck," Annelise said to Isis. "Why don't you go claim your merchandise?" Without further ado, she turned to the list on the podium in front of her and called out the first name.

"Hattin, forward!"

6/21/2012 #32

Alexis and Lorelei had arrived at the auction. Leavin Eric behind in the car, the two Hunt siblings took a seat. Seeing that the auction started, Lorelei gave a deep sigh while Alexis took some interest in the first slave.

"Alexis, you have any idea where's mom?" asked Lorelei, looking for the old woman known as Kristen Hunt.

"Mom? Not sure, maybe she has an emergency or something. You know that she's occupied."

Eyeing the first slave, Alexis took some interest in him and decided that he might be a good addition to the household slave team. With that she raised her voice.

"I give 100!"

Again Lorelei sighed. She did not like auctions, they always seemed to remind her that her brother is somewhere, being bought, and how this society was unfair. They were all human beings, different genders but still human beings. No wonder that once in a while they would see in the news that a bomb went off in a building, a resistence group being credited. Lorelei had to admit something though, she did wish that something would happen, maybe a bomb going off or something. Not that it would stop the auction, or would it?

6/21/2012 #33
Chainsaw Cake

"I hear one hundred for Hattin!" Annelise said. "Can anyone best this offer?"

"Two hundred!" someone else called out from the crowd.

6/21/2012 #34
U.N. Owen the Pain Killer

Brock was about to turn on some Iron Maiden to work to when he was distracted by the shrill sound of a woman's voice over a loud speaker. "We have you surrounded, Nomad! There's nowhere to run!"

Brock sighed and swept his tools and device into a rucksack. He slung the rucksack over his shoulder and walked over to his bike. "And how many times have I heard that saying?" he grumbled to himself. He pulled out several sticks of dynamite and laid them on a few barrels of old diesel fuel sitting by a door. He lit the fuses and ran to his bike, quickly starting it up.

"Last warning! We will use deadly force, unless surren-" the woman yelled before she was cut off by a loud explosion and raging fireball. The blast knocked back the police women directly in front of the door and stunned the rest. The next thing that was heard was the revving of a motorcycle engine. Brock drove through the flames and away from the police. He promptly flipped them the bird before driving off.

6/21/2012 #35

"Three hundred!" continued Alexis, bent on buying the slave.

Lorelei merely rolled her eyes. She simply wanted this to be over with.

6/21/2012 . Edited 6/21/2012 #36
Chainsaw Cake

"One thousand!" Whoever it was, they sure wanted this slave. Annelise smiled; there was no such thing as too high a bid...unless the bidder found herself unable to pay, of course.

6/21/2012 #37
Sage of the White Sands

((Will submit character, tomorrow.))

6/21/2012 #38
U.N. Owen the Pain Killer

Every television and radio in the area where Brock was began announcing the warnings that he was at large and was considered armed and dangerous. Brock drove past the auction house where the current auction was and made a mental note on its location so he could fuck it up later. "I'm getting too old for this shit," he grumbled.

6/21/2012 #39

(Shouldn't we wait for the guy who plays the slave to show up and react?)

6/21/2012 #40
U.N. Owen the Pain Killer

(Don't mind me, I'm just playing as the old fart riding through town on a motorcycle.)

6/21/2012 #41

In under a minute, Derryk was unchained form the rest of the men, and standing a short distance away, next to Isis. The moment she had stepped forward, he'd thrown away any plans to resist in any way. After all, if she was going to 'buy' him, and apparently disorder her aunt the auctioneer's wishes in doing so, then there was no need to get her in trouble.

"You know, that was a bit of a waste,' he told the woman who had 'bought' him sadly. He glanced towards a nearby road as a motorcycle zoomed past. Smoke curled in the sky several miles in the opposite direction. "I mean, I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But any others of these people could've used it more."

What he found interesting, though, wasn't the selling of men in a woman-run society. No, that was another form of slavery, and while he didn't like it in the slightest, he also wasn't surprised by it. What surprised him was that he had been Tased, right in the middle of an auction, with a whole lot of women watching and the other male slaves right next to him. Not only was he unmarked, but he hadn't so much as twitched. That wasn't surprising to him, because he had never been able to feel pain, only a slight tingling, no matter what it was.

No. Derryk had been inflicted with enough electricity to put any man down on the ground, but he hadn't so much as twitched.

What got his interest was that nobody seemed to have actually noticed that fact.

6/21/2012 . Edited 6/21/2012 #42

(Hrm, pretty immediately action sequency for the first act!)

6/22/2012 #43

"I know that." Isis muttered back after she had given a small nod to the women who unchained her prize. They didn't seem too pleased but none voiced their objections. She led him away from the other men and to her own "check out" booth. "But the other men won't be able to endure what you're up for. Nor can they do what you can do." Isis said in a tone that implied she knew more than she should. She took out clothing of different sizes as she spoke and folded them infront of him on a table so that he could choose what he wanted.

The clothing selection was that of dark greens, browns, and blues. All with matching shirts; all with matching pants. "Pick one. Please." She added please to the end in hopes that it would make him move quicker, seeing that he was still naked in front of her. Isis picked up a tablet and a pen. "I saw how she tasered you and I saw your reaction. Nothing." Isis spoke in a hushed tone as she told Derryk his story as if he hadn't been there.

"Only one or two people can do that...if there is a second at all." The young girl chewed her lip in thought. "Your name?" She asked now.

6/22/2012 #44
U.N. Owen the Pain Killer

Brock had pulled into an alley close to the auction house. He figured it would be the last place the police would look seeing as there was a multitude of people just down the street. He pulled out a screwdriver and a bobby pin and began working on a padlock to an abandoned apartment building. The lock popped off and Brock went inside. He pulled out what appeared to be a blanket with weighted edges and shifting patterns. What it was was an "invisibility cloak" of sorts. A resistance member had nabbed it from one of the military units and had given it to Brock, knowing his reputation as an outlaw. The cloak would absorb colors from its surroundings and small electronic microfibers woven into the cloth would translate those colors into realistic textures. Of course the cloak wasn't without its flaws. If someone was got really close to it they would be able to see the shape person or object underneath it.

Brock draped the cloak over his motorcycle, making sure that every possible inch was covered. He then entered the building, carrying his saddlebags and ruck sack with him.

6/22/2012 #45

"Derryk," he said, picking the blue set and dressing rapidly. He'd have to fetch his own clothes later, as well as his computer and sword. Which would be a bit unpleasant. At least he'd been proven wrong about the seeming lack of observancy. This woman seemed eager to leave... and to have plans. Based on her words, violent plans. "I've never met somebody quite like me, but I'm smart enough to know that there are more things I don't know than things I do. Comes with the job description."

6/22/2012 #46

Isis nodded and scribbled his name down on her pad. "Of course." She said a tad bit absent mindly. No doubtedly her mind was forming some kind of plan. "Age, weight, height?"

6/22/2012 #47
"28, 5'9", and around 130," Derryk said, assuming that they used the same measurements. Probably not, in terms if statistics. He finished dressing and waited. He was a slave, after all, for now.
6/22/2012 #48

Isis finished her scribblings and ripped the page out; pinning the white sheet to her booth for pick up and pocketing the yellow. She stepped from behind the booth and gave Derryk a quick look, telling him to follow. "My name is Isis Tierra Andrews." Isis started as she begin to walk. "You can call me by any of the three as along as they are accompanied by a Ms or mam. In private you address me as your equal and please don't try anything funny while in my care. My aunt would punish us both-though you probably wouldn't feel a thing." Isis gave Derryk a glance. "Think you can handle that?"


6/22/2012 #49
U.N. Owen the Pain Killer

Brock swept off a table and pulled up a chair. He was confident that the police wouldn't find him, so he continued working on his EMP device. He was hoping to create a working blueprint and prototype so he could sell them to the resistance. He admired their actions, but they had no way to defend themselves from Valkyrie mechs, save for some well placed explosives. The problem with explosives was that the resistance had a better chance of finding a 21st century issue of Hustler with all the pages intact, including the centerfold, rather than finding a cache of explosives. The female run regime made sure to keep every explosive they had locked tight. It was miracle that Brock had even found those sticks of dynamite and he regretted using so many in that explosion.

"Well that's in the past," Brock said to himself. He pulled out a candle and a Zippo lighter, set the candle on the table, and lit it. He then pulled out an old MP3 player and a small set of speakers and turned on some Iron Maiden to keep him entertained while he worked.

6/22/2012 #50

"I'm sure I'll manage, Ms. Isis," Derryk agreed, following behind Isis and avoiding looking at anything but her feet in front of him. This would be simple enough. Play the part. Find out what she wanted. He wasn't too sure that her plans aligned with his even slightly, so he'd be ready to strike out soon.

6/22/2012 . Edited 6/22/2012 #51

Isis fail silent as she led Derryk to his new place of inhabitation; she didn't want anyone to stir up any trouble because she was talking to her "slave" in such a casaul manner. Most women whispered as the two passed by while others sneered or laughed. Isis bowed her head, keeping her eyes on the ground. She could only imagine what they were saying.

Isis walked faster.

6/22/2012 #52

Derryk kept the pace automatically, listening to the insulting whispers they walked past. He could hear them without a problem. They also didn't matter to him; but he fought back a smile. He'd wanted to stir things up; hadn't had the chance to in quite a while. But he sure as hell would here.

Just not yet.

6/22/2012 . Edited 6/22/2012 #53

Isis merely grew quieter as the pair reached her aunt's home. She fumbled with the keys, dropped them, got the door open then shut it closed. "Welcome to your new place of residence." Isis moved to remove her coat and hang it on a coat rack near the kitchen. " I'm sure Annelise will stick you in the cellar but you don't have to go down there." Isis reclaimed her chair in the kitchen by the medium size window. She chewed her thumbnail. "What are you planning to do?" Isis asked curiously.

6/22/2012 . Edited 6/22/2012 #54

"Nice place," Derryk said absentmindedly. He'd seen better, of course; but this was good for a house. Besides, nice to be polite to his new slave owner. As for her question... "Well, I'm your slave, aren't I? That means I do what you tell me. Everything else will have to wait until i have some free time."

6/22/2012 #55

(Grr I'll describe the house later...or push Cake up to do it. Right now I'm seeing middle aged, old woman stuff.)

Isis studied Derryk for a moment. "When will you have free time?" She was anxious, very anxious, to get from under neath her Aunt's rule and the laws of the land. She didn't view men as dangerous or ravenous, though she knew some existed. Yes she had her fears, especially for Derryk at the moment, but Isis figured that if he wanted to harm her...he would have done so already.

She had changed her posture from chewing on her thumbnail to leaning forward: elbow and forearm on her knees and fingers touching lightly.

"I know I'm prying but you don't understand. I have to get out of here. Will you help me?"

6/23/2012 #56
U.N. Owen the Pain Killer

(Suddenly, a wild idea appears.)

A radio was on in one of the rooms of the house. A couple women were listening closely to the warning about Brock. "All citizens be on the lookout for Brock McCulloch also known as "The Nomad." He is 6', about 56 years old, has gray hair and gray beard, and blue eyes. He also drives a 1972 Suzuki GT750 motorcycle. He is responsible for the death of many police officers and private citizens and has been known to free slaves whenever he can. He is to be considered armed and dangerous. If there are any sitings, please call your local police department. Now back to...."

"That McCulloch is a menace," one of the women said.

"I'm just curious as to why the police haven't caught him yet," the other woman said. "I mean, it's only one guy!"

6/23/2012 . Edited 6/23/2012 #57

(Shouldn't we wait for the guy who plays the slave to show up and react?)

(No, not at all. Don't you remember? This is a Slave auction. The Human beings and their 'reactions' are Incidental. The only thing that matters is the purchase of a commodity. That's kind of the idea.)

Hattin closed his eyes, in front of the throng of people. He had learned, decades ago, that shutting your eyes does not make the outside world go away; that the barbs that enter you, the jabs that sting you, the shame he felt would still be there. He knew that closing his eyes would not make him less exposed, less powerless, would not take his fate away from the people who now bounced it between them like a beach ball. But he closed his eyes anyways, a look of grim, tragic serenity washing over his face. Some might think he did so to show his absolute distaste for the situation - they might believe he was trying to look like he didn't care. Even though it was a choice many had taken - that many would prefer - Hattin had never chosen not to care. How could he? This was his life in the balance.

Silently, he hoped, wished, prayed that someone would bid to high and then fail to field the check. Then he could stay at the Bidding house with the rest of the stock. He wouldn't have to be consigned to a fate yet - he wouldn't know whether it would be good or bad. He knew that it was possible that hell awaited him in the possession of another owner, but that wasn't what he had been dreading for the past few days. Instead, he had been dreading this moment: The moment where that fate is settled forever, or not at all.

So, there he stood, powerless and Naked on the stage, such was his lot. He did not Seethe in indignation, he did not rile with spite or laugh at the oppressors. He did not Rebuke their authority - Society dictating that Women command Men is no less worthy than Society Dictating that parents raise their children - but instead merely waited, waited to resign himself to his fate. Or rather, to find out which fate he would be resigning himself to.

6/23/2012 #58

Alexis was one that had been through the indoctrination that men were inferior and she had never questioned that. Ever since she had been old enough to enter auctions she had seen slaves being bought off and she never dwelt in the fate of the slaves. After all, they were meant to serve despite how their masters treated them.

"I give 1,500!" yelled another woman.

"I give 2,000!" yelled Alexis back.

6/23/2012 . Edited 6/23/2012 #59

Chainsaw Cake

"One thousand!" Whoever it was, they sure wanted this slave. Annelise smiled; there was no such thing as too high a bid...unless the bidder found herself unable to pay, of course.

Reply Yesterday, 7:50PM #37

6/23/2012 #60
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