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1088. the slave auction meme

❧ Leave a comment with the character's name, fandom, and whether your character will be playing the part of 'slave' or 'master', plus preferences for scenarios if you have any or set up the scene yourself in the comment.
❧ Respond to others with one of the scenarios below or feel free to make up your own. 
❧ Please remember to be respectful of others while you play

Warning:  Be aware that this meme deals with dark subjects like slavery and may also contain non-consensual/dubiously consensual sex, violence, and kink.


1.  The Newbie - This is your very first auction and you don't quite know what to expect.  Hopefully you remember your training and don't disgrace yourself in front of your new master.  Hopefully someone thinks you're worth buying at all.

2.  The Oldtimer - You've been bought and sold and bought again so many times.  You've seen it all before and don't think this time is going to be much different.  In fact, the only real anxiety you've got is whether or not someone's going to pay for a more than slightly used slave.

3.  The Pet - You're a pleasure slave.  A bed warmer.  A decorative piece of artwork.  You're meant to look pretty and be pleasing and not much else.

4.  The Guard - Your master hired you because of your ability to swing a sword or shoot a gun, not your looks.

5.  The Escape Artist - Somehow you always manage to squirm out of your master's chains.  Too bad you seem to get caught after a while.  Maybe your next daring escape will be permanent.  Then again, maybe your next master has special ways of keeping you locked up.

6.  The Undercover - You aren't a slave at all, you're just pretending to be one.  Why?  Well that's up to you.  Either way, your cover is blown if you don't act the part.

7.  The Specialist - You have a skill that no one else has.  Something rare and valuable.  Something your master needs more than anything else.


1.  The Customer - You've owned slaves before and this trip to the market is nothing new to you.  Still, you're hoping to find something worth your while.

2.  The Gift - Someone bought a pet for you, isn't that nice of them?  Or maybe it isn't so nice.  Did you even want a slave in the first place?  Well you're stuck with one now.

3.  The Giver - You're selecting a slave for someone else, and they need to be perfect.  Perhaps you'd better test them out first to make sure you're getting your money's worth.

4.  The Trainer - You specialize in taming unruly slaves and making them over into perfect, obedient, well-trained pets.

5.  The Rebel - You hate the idea of slavery, but the system isn't going to go away any time soon, so the next best thing is to buy up any slave you can get your hands on and free them, right?

6.  The Companion - You want someone to be with you always, someone you can talk to and depend on, someone who will never leave your side.  It's a good thing that money can buy that these days.

7.  The Undercover - You're not actually a Master.  You're at the auction for an entirely different reason.  Maybe it's special policework, maybe you're trying to hunt down a certain someone.  Either way, your cover is blown unless you act the part.

As always, feel free to use a combination of scenarios or make up your own if you have other ideas.

6 with a shade of 5?

[Maria doesn't care one way or another about slavery as an institution. This mistreatment of individual slaves is another matter; that she is bothered by, and opposed to. But the institution? She hasn't the energy to commit to hating or supporting anything as sweeping as the institution itself. She has no particular attachment to its abolition, nor to its advancement. It just is what it is, and she has never examined it with any sort of close scrutiny.

This is still a first for her, actually perusing a market on her own behalf rather than as part of an unrelated project or errand. But she's not so young as she once was, and the sort of people who are taking notice of her little corner of the city has gradually gotten to be a more violent and pushy sort as the years have passed. She could do with a little security, and someone who is strong enough to lift a body when needs be.

Which is why she's here, making her way from trader's stall to trader's stall with a curious half-rolling gait, leaning on her forearm crutch and eyeing the merchandise with an unreadable expression.]


[Ben is watching the patrons with a rather bored and detached air. For the most part, it's same-old, same-old: wealthy bastards trying to impress airheaded bimbos, hard-faced pit trainers looking for their next meal ticket, lonely or predatory souls looking for someone who can't say "no." Most of them don't give someone like Ben a second glance, although one savvy pit trainer favors him with a hard stare and makes a notation on his list before passing by. Ben bares a fang at the man's retreating back.

The lady with the crutch, though. She stands out, definitely not the usual clientele they get around here. Ben keeps his eyes downcast, but he's eyeing her hard, with his head slightly tilted and his nostrils flaring.

She's not normal. That makes her dangerous. He's not afraid, but he is wary as he watches her watching the stock.]

[It's the scars that catch her eye first. Most of the male werewolves have them, to varying degrees, and so do many of the women, but his are particularly hard to miss, especially the elaborate one on his chest. And once the scars have caught her eye, the fact that he's watching her keeps it. It's not the come-hither or the pleading looks some of them have given her; this is wariness, caginess, cleverness.

She stops and leans on her crutch, patently ignoring the slaver who moves over to address her and speaking directly to Ben.]

So tell me, Volchok, how you feel about doctors.

[The question comes out of nowhere, and Ben blinks, a little nonplussed by it.] I. Uh. [Don't hesitate, idiot. The slaver glares at him and picks up the remote control for the shackles.] They're fine. Patched me up more than once. I like doctors. I mean. I don't like going to them, because who does. But I like that they're there. [At the last second, he remembers to add the honorific.] Mistress.

Oh, tch.

[She waves the Mistress off like it's a gnat too near her ear, and extends the gesture to take in the slaver while she's at it. Nonsense. Bothersome nonsense.]

So. You wouldn't find it too awful to be around one all day, then? No problems with blood or bandages, no allergy to latex or anything else I would have around? And I should want you to do some heavy lifting, now and again. Sometimes of people. You can do that, yes or no?

[Things are looking up. As long as she's not abusive -- and he's come to know the type, and she doesn't strike him as such -- this might actually be a pretty cushy gig.] Yes, ma'am, I can do all that. I'm used to blood. As long as I don't have to handle anything made of silver, or touch aconite. Mountain ash, rowan. You know. Normal werewolf allergies. Nothing else, though. Ma'am.

Good. Sehr gut, excellent. And bodyguarding, how about that? You look like a fellow who can do that as well, yes? Nothing so serious, only a little bit when fellows get the wrong idea about where I keep the sedatives.

[At that, his aspect goes a little wolfish. Well. More wolfish.] Oh, yes, ma'am. [Ben is a dangerous enemy. He's also a valuable ally to a Master who shows him kindness, and he's got a soft spot for women, although that's bitten him on the ass more than once and you'd think he'd learn.] I know I don't look like much, but I've been in the pits and come out alive, and a few wars too. I know my way around. Mistress.

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Here we go loop de loop...

[It's a cornucopia of food, and for a second he's a bit overwhelmed. But they have a half-pound cheeseburger with guacamole and bacon and curly fries, and that's the one he keeps coming back to.] This hamburger looks really good. I mean, really, really good.

[Maria smiles and inclines her head.]

Red meat, as you said, yes? The cook here is also very good at knowing "medium rare" from "cooked to death," it's worth knowing. Not every place understands the distinction.

[Ben is practically salivating as the waitress brings him his Mountain Dew. He gives Maria a look of pure gratitude, but he doesn't forget himself so far as to take a sip of it before she takes one of her tea.

"Have you decided?" the waitress asks.]

Yes -- the special for me, please, with the chicken soup rather than a salad. Danke.

[Maria folds her menu and hands it to the waitress, and then glances at Ben. There's a subtle go-ahead in the look and in her body language, permission for him to order if he feels that he needs it.]

[He blinks a little and plows ahead. He used to know how to do this.] The California cheeseburger, medium rare, with the curly fries. Thank you, Miss.

["I'll have those right out for you." She gathers up their menus after scribbling their orders down and disappears back to the kitchen again. Ben leans back in his chair.] So not used to that.

Ach. No. I don't suppose you are.

[Maria sips her tea carefully, watching him for a moment. It occurs to her that helping him find his feet again is going to be fraught with moments like that one.

Well. Since when is anything easy?]

You can tell me if it becomes too much at once, Volchok. There is a line, I know.

[He nods convulsively and sips the Mountain Dew, now that she's started on her tea.] Omigod, I'd forgotten how good this stuff is...

It helps. That I know you're not gonna hurt me for... wanting something. Or having an opinion. That you're not the kind of person who'd offer me a choice, and then punish me for choosing.

Even though you're a Master... you're safe. [And he shoves back the niggling doubt in the back of his mind that says this is all a trick, this is too good to be true, no one is this kind, she must have an ulterior motive.

He's going to believe in this.

He has to, or go mad.]

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