57-38
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
11,477
Reviews:
50
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
11,477
Reviews:
50
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter One: Alex
Title: 57-38
Chapter: One
Word Count: 1,462
IMPORTANT (BRIEF) NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR:
1. For those of you (if there are even any >_>;;) who are still keeping an eye out for Stormy Skies-- I’m here to assure to not give up! I know it’s saying the same old crap, but you do have to realize I have a life outside of my writing. Yes, I’m still actively working on it, and I’ve got the next few chapters lined out. I just have to write them. So, yeah. Keep an eye out. (Still might be a while yet, though.)
2. As for this story, here’s something you might notice: there are characters who are described to look very much alike to characters in Stormy Skies, and who even have the same names. Now, let me assure you that they are not the same characters. Well, they are, but they’re just being placed in a different universe here. The thing is, I have a small group of characters who I use over and over in all of my stories, placing them in completely different roles and situations. If I ever post any other stories up here, you’ll probably see these same characters again, in entirely different worlds and places. So yes - Alex and the Storm King are in this story, but they’re not really Alex and the Storm King.
3. MOST IMPORTANT: This story is completely noncommittal on my part - I’ve got the next couple chapters written, so there’s more coming, but I’m not sure if I’ll continue, since Stormy Skies is my current commitment. The continuation of this story is going to be based largely on the reaction I get on the first three chapters. Soooo yeah >_>;;
Oh well, that said, read and enjoy! And lemme know what you think ^^ (Oh yes… and as usual, please excuse any dumb typos you might find. I’m so bad at revising! D:)
Chapter One: Alex
“This one’s a fair right piece of work,” the retailer spoke through his thickly accented drawl, his words slow and indistinct. “Not a bad bargain, for what your payin’, an’ all.” The last part had resembled something more like, ‘Not bad bah-gin, fwat your pain, nall.’
Alex quietly observed the bargain in question; the boy lay in a languid, slumped mass inside the Plexiglas display case, returning Alex’s gaze with fogged hazel eyes that were half-intelligent. His lids and cheeks were a dull, mottled red, flushed with whatever pacifying drug they had given him. His breaths came in slow, shallow gasps. As high and tranquil as a dove in the clouds.
Alex looked away for a few moments to scrutinize the other slaves up for sale. The small Plexiglas cases lined the pristine white walls of the narrow showroom, each filled with a lank form clad in a standard ashen-hued canvas tunic. They all seemed just as drugged and befuddled as the young man before him. Alex noted that, despite the humming and somewhat cluttered presence of other prospective buyers and their retailers all around him, this particular showroom was far smaller and much less populated than the other ones. He couldn’t say he was surprised - not many folk were in the market for a discounted slave.
Alex returned his attention to the boy before him. He was, as per usual, startlingly beautiful. No one bothered to sell ugly slaves. “His price?”
“Thirty-five thousand,” ‘thir’ie-foiv thou-sand,’ more like, “and like I said, that’s a right bargain, for a face like ’is.”
Alex had to agree. Normally, a slave as aesthetically pleasing as the boy slouched before him would have easily taken fifty thousand notes from a buyer’s wallet, at the lowest bid. Thirty-five thousand notes was nearly a steal. “A bargain, indeed,” he finally replied, looking the retailer in the eye with skepticism. “What would merit such a low price?”
“That’d be on account of his health, sir,” the retailer answered honestly, gesturing vaguely toward the piece in question. Health had been turned into helf. “He falls ill easily, tha’ is. He can be a sickly fellow, without the proper carin’ for.” Wifout.
“And why would I be so interested in such a sickly piece, then?” Alex questioned mildly. “What precisely is wrong with him?”
The retailer gave the boy in the display case a grave look. “Bad immune system, they say. Ain’t able to fight ’em off, an’ all that. This one ‘ere, he came to us from up north, from Savnia-”
“He’s Sav?” Alex interjected suddenly, a bit surprised. A rare breed of folk, indeed, to find this far south. Suddenly the boy’s medical condition seemed to make much more sense. People from provinces as far north as Savnia didn’t tend to fare well in the tropical climates of Carvanntir, and it was not uncommon for Sav folk to be considered immune deficient. Their bodies were, quite often, simply unable to tolerate the illnesses the hot, humid weather readily harbored.
“Tha’s right, sir,” the retailer replied, his eyes leaping back to his prospective customer. “The little fellow practically crossed a continent to end here.” He perked up suddenly, his eyes unexpectedly going bright. “Ah, but don’t let ’is health deter you - as far as discounted pieces go, he’s the fines’ in this room. He was a Class One slave, you know, afore they found out ’bout his health an’ all. Best quality. Prettiest face.”
“Class One?” Alex asked with raised eyebrows. The sudden and brief surprise of the boy’s origin was just beginning to ebb. “And to have fallen so far as to end up here? He must have some terrible health. I suspect he may be more trouble than he’s worth.”
“I assure you, that ain’t bein’ the case ’ere, sir,” came the retailer’s courteous response. “We’ve been carin’ for him for weeks, and he’s not too much to be keepin’ in good health. Feed ’im right, allow him to bathe daily, don’t be exposing ‘im to the outdoors too much. Keep any cuts or breaks of the skin clean an’ all that. An’ ‘is price includes a full set of vaccinations and a medical examination, as well. You’ll receive him in right top shape, an’ we assure you he’s kept that way easy enough.”
“I’m not so sure. If his condition is so mild, why such a low price?”
“Well, Sav are hard to sell, you see, on account of their poor reputations for their health, an’ all. Some of them are nearly impossible to keep well, but not this boy-” he smiled proudly and tapped the display case loudly, as though he was patting the neck of his prized racing horse. Inside the clear plastic cell, the boy’s eyes lazily swiveled back and fourth, lamely trying to locate the sound through his drugged haze. “-This boy, he’s a good one. Strong. Healthy. But we keep the price low, anyway, to accommodate the stigma. Just ‘bout no one’s willin’ to buy Sav, no matter how pretty, for anything’ over thirty-five thousand.”
Alex nodded, satisfied with the answer. He took in the attractive young man’s slumped form for a few more short moments before sighing and turning his attention back to the smiling retailer. “Yes, well. Alright.” He reached forward and pressed the small blue button that sat on the wall beside the display case, effectively placing the piece inside on reserve. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll take him into consideration. Show me what else you’ve got here. I see some others who look promising.”
“Oh! Yes, of course, sir,” the retailer turned to lead him away, and Alex followed. The boy inside the Plexiglas box hardly seemed to notice they’d ever been there at all.
~~
When at last the retailer had shown Alex the discounted showroom’s best wares - with the word ‘best’ being used in its loosest of contexts - Alex was shocked to see that nearly four hours had passed. All in all he’d probably been shown about twenty or so pieces, and it had eventually become a grueling and, (in Alex’s opinion,) nearly fruitless waste of time. For most of the slaves presented to him, it had been quite obvious as to why they’d been placed in the discounted showroom. Behavioral issues, chronic, intense illness, lack of the usual intensity of physical appeal, and, in some more extreme cases, something as unfortunate as mild mental disability. Out of the twenty, Alex had only come across two that he’d been interested it. One had been a pretty young girl with black hair and a slight frame, small, rounded breasts, nicely curved hips, and chronic behavioral issues. The other was the intensely beautiful Sav boy with the immune deficiency. It had only taken a small about of consideration for Alex to choose between the two - slight immune deficiency would be easy enough to control, with the proper care. Repeated refusal to submit to an owner’s commands was simply an unwanted migraine in the making.
Alex politely informed the retailer of this, who took him back to the Sav’s display case. Alex’s stared intently through the thin layer of Plexiglas that separated him from his potential purchase. The boy blinked foggily back at him, just as high and serene as he’d been four hours earlier. “Thirty-five thousand?” He asked calmly, watching as the boy shifted sluggishly, turning from where he lay on his left side over, slowly, onto his right. His legs flopped lazily from one side of his body to the other.
“Thirty-five, an’ tha’s practically criminal for a lad who’d be a Class One slave if he didn’t have those Sav genes in ’em.”
Alex couldn’t argue with that. He considered the matter a short while longer, then fixed his gaze onto the retailer. “I’d like to see him, if you would. I wont decide anything without having a closer look at him fist.”
The retailer bowed politely, beginning to lead Alex out of the showroom. “As you are, sir. If you’d like to be havin’ yourself a seat in appraisal room 32-B, I’ll have him brought to you in just a few moments.”
“Of course,” Alex nodded, shaking the man’s hand as they reached the showroom’s exit. “Thank you for your services.”
The retailer bowed politely once more before bidding Alex farewell. Alex stepped out into the central lobby of the Slave Complex, a large rotunda with finely buffed parquet floors from which all the other showrooms branched off of. Walking to the elevators, he rode to the second level, where the appraisal rooms and screening studios were located. Easily locating room 32-B, he stepped inside, closed the door, had a seat, and waited.
Wellll that’s the short first chapter. The next two are longer, I promise!
Review? :3
Chapter: One
Word Count: 1,462
IMPORTANT (BRIEF) NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR:
1. For those of you (if there are even any >_>;;) who are still keeping an eye out for Stormy Skies-- I’m here to assure to not give up! I know it’s saying the same old crap, but you do have to realize I have a life outside of my writing. Yes, I’m still actively working on it, and I’ve got the next few chapters lined out. I just have to write them. So, yeah. Keep an eye out. (Still might be a while yet, though.)
2. As for this story, here’s something you might notice: there are characters who are described to look very much alike to characters in Stormy Skies, and who even have the same names. Now, let me assure you that they are not the same characters. Well, they are, but they’re just being placed in a different universe here. The thing is, I have a small group of characters who I use over and over in all of my stories, placing them in completely different roles and situations. If I ever post any other stories up here, you’ll probably see these same characters again, in entirely different worlds and places. So yes - Alex and the Storm King are in this story, but they’re not really Alex and the Storm King.
3. MOST IMPORTANT: This story is completely noncommittal on my part - I’ve got the next couple chapters written, so there’s more coming, but I’m not sure if I’ll continue, since Stormy Skies is my current commitment. The continuation of this story is going to be based largely on the reaction I get on the first three chapters. Soooo yeah >_>;;
Oh well, that said, read and enjoy! And lemme know what you think ^^ (Oh yes… and as usual, please excuse any dumb typos you might find. I’m so bad at revising! D:)
Chapter One: Alex
“This one’s a fair right piece of work,” the retailer spoke through his thickly accented drawl, his words slow and indistinct. “Not a bad bargain, for what your payin’, an’ all.” The last part had resembled something more like, ‘Not bad bah-gin, fwat your pain, nall.’
Alex quietly observed the bargain in question; the boy lay in a languid, slumped mass inside the Plexiglas display case, returning Alex’s gaze with fogged hazel eyes that were half-intelligent. His lids and cheeks were a dull, mottled red, flushed with whatever pacifying drug they had given him. His breaths came in slow, shallow gasps. As high and tranquil as a dove in the clouds.
Alex looked away for a few moments to scrutinize the other slaves up for sale. The small Plexiglas cases lined the pristine white walls of the narrow showroom, each filled with a lank form clad in a standard ashen-hued canvas tunic. They all seemed just as drugged and befuddled as the young man before him. Alex noted that, despite the humming and somewhat cluttered presence of other prospective buyers and their retailers all around him, this particular showroom was far smaller and much less populated than the other ones. He couldn’t say he was surprised - not many folk were in the market for a discounted slave.
Alex returned his attention to the boy before him. He was, as per usual, startlingly beautiful. No one bothered to sell ugly slaves. “His price?”
“Thirty-five thousand,” ‘thir’ie-foiv thou-sand,’ more like, “and like I said, that’s a right bargain, for a face like ’is.”
Alex had to agree. Normally, a slave as aesthetically pleasing as the boy slouched before him would have easily taken fifty thousand notes from a buyer’s wallet, at the lowest bid. Thirty-five thousand notes was nearly a steal. “A bargain, indeed,” he finally replied, looking the retailer in the eye with skepticism. “What would merit such a low price?”
“That’d be on account of his health, sir,” the retailer answered honestly, gesturing vaguely toward the piece in question. Health had been turned into helf. “He falls ill easily, tha’ is. He can be a sickly fellow, without the proper carin’ for.” Wifout.
“And why would I be so interested in such a sickly piece, then?” Alex questioned mildly. “What precisely is wrong with him?”
The retailer gave the boy in the display case a grave look. “Bad immune system, they say. Ain’t able to fight ’em off, an’ all that. This one ‘ere, he came to us from up north, from Savnia-”
“He’s Sav?” Alex interjected suddenly, a bit surprised. A rare breed of folk, indeed, to find this far south. Suddenly the boy’s medical condition seemed to make much more sense. People from provinces as far north as Savnia didn’t tend to fare well in the tropical climates of Carvanntir, and it was not uncommon for Sav folk to be considered immune deficient. Their bodies were, quite often, simply unable to tolerate the illnesses the hot, humid weather readily harbored.
“Tha’s right, sir,” the retailer replied, his eyes leaping back to his prospective customer. “The little fellow practically crossed a continent to end here.” He perked up suddenly, his eyes unexpectedly going bright. “Ah, but don’t let ’is health deter you - as far as discounted pieces go, he’s the fines’ in this room. He was a Class One slave, you know, afore they found out ’bout his health an’ all. Best quality. Prettiest face.”
“Class One?” Alex asked with raised eyebrows. The sudden and brief surprise of the boy’s origin was just beginning to ebb. “And to have fallen so far as to end up here? He must have some terrible health. I suspect he may be more trouble than he’s worth.”
“I assure you, that ain’t bein’ the case ’ere, sir,” came the retailer’s courteous response. “We’ve been carin’ for him for weeks, and he’s not too much to be keepin’ in good health. Feed ’im right, allow him to bathe daily, don’t be exposing ‘im to the outdoors too much. Keep any cuts or breaks of the skin clean an’ all that. An’ ‘is price includes a full set of vaccinations and a medical examination, as well. You’ll receive him in right top shape, an’ we assure you he’s kept that way easy enough.”
“I’m not so sure. If his condition is so mild, why such a low price?”
“Well, Sav are hard to sell, you see, on account of their poor reputations for their health, an’ all. Some of them are nearly impossible to keep well, but not this boy-” he smiled proudly and tapped the display case loudly, as though he was patting the neck of his prized racing horse. Inside the clear plastic cell, the boy’s eyes lazily swiveled back and fourth, lamely trying to locate the sound through his drugged haze. “-This boy, he’s a good one. Strong. Healthy. But we keep the price low, anyway, to accommodate the stigma. Just ‘bout no one’s willin’ to buy Sav, no matter how pretty, for anything’ over thirty-five thousand.”
Alex nodded, satisfied with the answer. He took in the attractive young man’s slumped form for a few more short moments before sighing and turning his attention back to the smiling retailer. “Yes, well. Alright.” He reached forward and pressed the small blue button that sat on the wall beside the display case, effectively placing the piece inside on reserve. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll take him into consideration. Show me what else you’ve got here. I see some others who look promising.”
“Oh! Yes, of course, sir,” the retailer turned to lead him away, and Alex followed. The boy inside the Plexiglas box hardly seemed to notice they’d ever been there at all.
~~
When at last the retailer had shown Alex the discounted showroom’s best wares - with the word ‘best’ being used in its loosest of contexts - Alex was shocked to see that nearly four hours had passed. All in all he’d probably been shown about twenty or so pieces, and it had eventually become a grueling and, (in Alex’s opinion,) nearly fruitless waste of time. For most of the slaves presented to him, it had been quite obvious as to why they’d been placed in the discounted showroom. Behavioral issues, chronic, intense illness, lack of the usual intensity of physical appeal, and, in some more extreme cases, something as unfortunate as mild mental disability. Out of the twenty, Alex had only come across two that he’d been interested it. One had been a pretty young girl with black hair and a slight frame, small, rounded breasts, nicely curved hips, and chronic behavioral issues. The other was the intensely beautiful Sav boy with the immune deficiency. It had only taken a small about of consideration for Alex to choose between the two - slight immune deficiency would be easy enough to control, with the proper care. Repeated refusal to submit to an owner’s commands was simply an unwanted migraine in the making.
Alex politely informed the retailer of this, who took him back to the Sav’s display case. Alex’s stared intently through the thin layer of Plexiglas that separated him from his potential purchase. The boy blinked foggily back at him, just as high and serene as he’d been four hours earlier. “Thirty-five thousand?” He asked calmly, watching as the boy shifted sluggishly, turning from where he lay on his left side over, slowly, onto his right. His legs flopped lazily from one side of his body to the other.
“Thirty-five, an’ tha’s practically criminal for a lad who’d be a Class One slave if he didn’t have those Sav genes in ’em.”
Alex couldn’t argue with that. He considered the matter a short while longer, then fixed his gaze onto the retailer. “I’d like to see him, if you would. I wont decide anything without having a closer look at him fist.”
The retailer bowed politely, beginning to lead Alex out of the showroom. “As you are, sir. If you’d like to be havin’ yourself a seat in appraisal room 32-B, I’ll have him brought to you in just a few moments.”
“Of course,” Alex nodded, shaking the man’s hand as they reached the showroom’s exit. “Thank you for your services.”
The retailer bowed politely once more before bidding Alex farewell. Alex stepped out into the central lobby of the Slave Complex, a large rotunda with finely buffed parquet floors from which all the other showrooms branched off of. Walking to the elevators, he rode to the second level, where the appraisal rooms and screening studios were located. Easily locating room 32-B, he stepped inside, closed the door, had a seat, and waited.
Wellll that’s the short first chapter. The next two are longer, I promise!
Review? :3