[ He's lost track of time. It could have been days or weeks since that night when everything had gone so horribly wrong. A raid that hadn't been as much of a surprise as they'd thought. He still didn't know where it had gone wrong, but he knew that too many of their little band had fallen when they'd crept into a trap, realizing it too late. Maybe some had escaped - he had to hope - but he hadn't been one of them, being one of the ones to lead the infiltration team and therefore one of the first to come face to face with the squadron of vampires lying in wait.
After that, it was a blur. The pain of a bite and then darkness.
When he'd woken, it had been to four walls and darkness - and the weight of a slave collar around his throat.
He'd fought, he'd tried to find a way out, he'd cursed himself hoarse. Everything had been ignored until a short while ago when a single vampire had stepped into his holding cell and overpowered him with the hold of one hand in a condescending display that had made him rage and struggle. For all the good it had done him.
Whatever they'd poured down his throat had tasted terrible and it had been potent, leaving his body numb and lethargic, feeling too heavy to bother moving. he'd stood still and pliant as they'd stripped him, washed him down, made notes and examined him before dressing him in a simple tunic that hid almost nothing and then put him in a line of other blank-eyed slaves.
It was hard to think, his consciousness drifting in strange spurts as he stood. Waited. The line in front of him got smaller and then it was his turn and he was guided to a stand - a display, really, placed on a high-backed stool, the collar on his throat fastened to the back of it - as if his body would do anything other than stay where they positioned it anyway. And then he was left again, shivering slightly at the cool air in the room as he waited. For what? He couldn't even muster the energy to think about it at the moment, a disconnect between where his mind wandered and where it should.
He was aware of eyes watching him, although outside of the ring of light he was haloed in, he could only make out the faintest outlines of shapes, movement. Not enough to focus on, even if that hadn't required more effort than he was capable of. But it made his skin crawl, the distant awareness of anxiety knotting in his stomach despite whatever drugs they'd slipped him. ]
It wasn't the practice per se. It was the method. Every human drugged into the same mindless zombie. How were you supposed to see their personalities and know one from the next? They wouldn't still be the same after the drug wore off-- and while some vampires might simply keep their claims in that eternally drugged state, Nami was not one of them. She wanted someone who was alive. Who acted like it.
Which meant looking a bit more closely for other bits of information that might be helpful. How scarred and battered were their bodies? How did they come to be for sale? As each one comes under the spotlight, she examines their appearance. It wasn't a foolproof system, deceptive as appearances could be, but it was the best that could be done considering. Who looked like someone with spirit under the blank expression and stare?
She sees her answer at once when he's led to the stool. Captured rebel. It ought to be an offputting detail, or at least one that would entice for all the wrong reasons. Nami liked it. Here was someone that had to be passionate and willing to fight for what he believed in. And just a bit, she felt compelled to intervene. Nami didn't sympathize with forces that wanted vampires removed from power, but she did empathize. Oppression ran to the top rung of the ladder, after all.
She snatches him up after a bidding war (that was completely unnecessary, all it did was make it more expensive for her!) and gets in the pick-up line early, uninterested in the remainder of the auction. Better to beat the crowd, and the sooner out of this pit with her charge, the better.
She forks over payment and moves out of the line to the receiving area. She waits in a vintage green dress with a wide belt, gold jewelry and heels. Her auburn hair is half-up, the rest spilling over her shoulder in soft curls.
Even to a place like this, Nami always believes in looking like a million bucks.]
[ Still completely unaware of what was going on, he was eventually taken off the stool and led to somewhere else, to another line, just as before. Slowly - far too slowly - thoughts started to emerge again. A wariness, confusion, the churning of anxiety in his stomach and a hint of tension as his senses started to fight off the fading effects of the drugs - not enough to get free, not yet. So he waited, until he was led to a desk of sorts, a vampire in a suit checking off a list before having him led through a large archway, to a chamber where more vampires than he could even count lingered, drinking and chatting and mingling as if it were a party.
A surge of fear jolted through him before he could stop it, and he could feel eyes turn in his direction before he could stamp it down again. He'd heard they could smell fear but the humans knew so little about what was fact or fiction it was all terrifying whispers and rumors. All he knew was he couldn't control his own body and he'd just been led into a room full of his most hated predators.
[Nami is quick to help her new charge change hands, having no interest in being in the filthy place longer than necessary. Even the air feels stifling; it makes her long for the open sea.
She declines the second dose of the drug and escorts the boy to the waiting car, a short limo with opposite-facing seats. Much as she dislikes the drugging practice, she does have to grant it makes it easier to leave with minimal fuss. She takes a seat opposite him, crossing one leg over the other and not bothering with the belt.
And as the vehicle sets into motion, she watches his expression for indication his head is clearing. The best chance to talk is that in-between stage where his head is clearer but his body still affected. When his sense of awareness seems adequate, she speaks, her voice and expression a flat deadpan.]
Before you do anything stupid, you should listen to what I have to say. I want to make a deal.
[ He's still sitting perfectly still across from her, just where he was placed, but there's been gradually more awareness coming back into his eyes, a spark of fire as he glares across the car at her. he doesn't know her, but he knows what she is. That cool awareness that raises the hair on the back of his neck as she gazes at him is impossible to ignore.
Even from here, he can feel the pull of her gaze, some part of him wanting to react to it, even as it made him furious at himself.
Pinned in place by the drugs and the intensity of her stare, he can only scowl back. Although her words get a small, derisive scoff from him. ]
Vampires don't make deals. They give orders and expect everyone else to fall all over themselves to grovel and obey.
[It's an unsurprising attitude from him, of course. She can see that charm plain as day making him as one of the rebellion. He wouldn't have committed himself to the cause if he didn't hate vampires.]
I don't fault you the distrust. But hear me out before you jump to any conclusions. You might be surprised.
[Not that he is her dinner, but since he's determined to believe he is, she may as well take the moment to poke holes in his argument instead. Denials, assurances, and promises to the contrary, at this point, are going to get no traction.]
Yeah, well. Apparently, my mouth works even when the rest of me doesn't.
[ Considering he could still barely manage to twitch his fingers... ]
I was never any good at keeping quiet anyway. [ He shoots her a sharp, sardonic smirk at that, fire lingering in his gaze. ] I'd say sorry, but I'm betting we both know that'd be a lie.
[She likes that look in his eyes, a verification she read the clues well enough inside. She smirks back at him.]
That's right. And that suits me fine. I'm not interested in anyone passive. That'll get you killed in the job I have planned for you-- should you choose to take it.
Whether I tell you now depends on how ready you are to listen. How about it?
[She holds that smirk; it's playful, mischievous. She's teasing curiosity and knows it. It's what she wants-- real curiosity means paying attention. And he should be curious. It's his life they're talking about, after all.]
[That's certainly true. And it seems to have worked, so she leans forward. The playful mischief across her face drops as she begins to speak with seriousness.]
I'm interested in people to be part of a ship's crew. We're planning a voyage south to investigate a lead to a hidden trove. It's not a journey for cowards. Survival for everyone depends on cooperation, trust and perseverance. If you're wondering why I would seek cooperation and trust from someone who's dedicated himself to hunting vampires, that's where the deal comes in:
I spent 85,000 bailing you out of there. I played by the rules of the system, but I want it clear I don't have any love for it as an institution. So let's think of this more like an indentured servitude. You messed up and got caught, but if you pay me back in labor, I'll let you have your freedom back. No strings attached.
I'll consider completion of this voyage full repayment.
[ Yata just stares at her a moment in disbelief, her words hitting him like a punch in the gut. It sounds...
...It sounds too good to be true. Which means it probably is. ]
Bullshit. You're telling me all I gotta do is survive one sea voyage and that's it? I'm free? Even if I did take you at your word and you followed through on it, what then? I can't go anywhere in the city. I'm branded now. Owned. There's no freedom from that. It's a life sentence. I'd be picked up the first time one of the guards spotted me anywhere on my own.
[Honestly, she's pleased his first reaction is to not believe her. It means he has a good head on his shoulders, which is another point for him. Anyone who would jump eagerly on such a promise without skepticism would be a fool. She's especially glad to see him thinking through the situation long-term, considering future complications and not just the immediate return.
On that subject, she simply poses:]
What would you propose as an alternative?
[There are some corrections to be made on the record of expectations, but those can wait for now.]
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An Auction House
After that, it was a blur. The pain of a bite and then darkness.
When he'd woken, it had been to four walls and darkness - and the weight of a slave collar around his throat.
He'd fought, he'd tried to find a way out, he'd cursed himself hoarse. Everything had been ignored until a short while ago when a single vampire had stepped into his holding cell and overpowered him with the hold of one hand in a condescending display that had made him rage and struggle. For all the good it had done him.
Whatever they'd poured down his throat had tasted terrible and it had been potent, leaving his body numb and lethargic, feeling too heavy to bother moving. he'd stood still and pliant as they'd stripped him, washed him down, made notes and examined him before dressing him in a simple tunic that hid almost nothing and then put him in a line of other blank-eyed slaves.
It was hard to think, his consciousness drifting in strange spurts as he stood. Waited. The line in front of him got smaller and then it was his turn and he was guided to a stand - a display, really, placed on a high-backed stool, the collar on his throat fastened to the back of it - as if his body would do anything other than stay where they positioned it anyway. And then he was left again, shivering slightly at the cool air in the room as he waited. For what? He couldn't even muster the energy to think about it at the moment, a disconnect between where his mind wandered and where it should.
He was aware of eyes watching him, although outside of the ring of light he was haloed in, he could only make out the faintest outlines of shapes, movement. Not enough to focus on, even if that hadn't required more effort than he was capable of. But it made his skin crawl, the distant awareness of anxiety knotting in his stomach despite whatever drugs they'd slipped him. ]
no subject
It wasn't the practice per se. It was the method. Every human drugged into the same mindless zombie. How were you supposed to see their personalities and know one from the next? They wouldn't still be the same after the drug wore off-- and while some vampires might simply keep their claims in that eternally drugged state, Nami was not one of them. She wanted someone who was alive. Who acted like it.
Which meant looking a bit more closely for other bits of information that might be helpful. How scarred and battered were their bodies? How did they come to be for sale? As each one comes under the spotlight, she examines their appearance. It wasn't a foolproof system, deceptive as appearances could be, but it was the best that could be done considering. Who looked like someone with spirit under the blank expression and stare?
She sees her answer at once when he's led to the stool. Captured rebel. It ought to be an offputting detail, or at least one that would entice for all the wrong reasons. Nami liked it. Here was someone that had to be passionate and willing to fight for what he believed in. And just a bit, she felt compelled to intervene. Nami didn't sympathize with forces that wanted vampires removed from power, but she did empathize. Oppression ran to the top rung of the ladder, after all.
She snatches him up after a bidding war (that was completely unnecessary, all it did was make it more expensive for her!) and gets in the pick-up line early, uninterested in the remainder of the auction. Better to beat the crowd, and the sooner out of this pit with her charge, the better.
She forks over payment and moves out of the line to the receiving area. She waits in a vintage green dress with a wide belt, gold jewelry and heels. Her auburn hair is half-up, the rest spilling over her shoulder in soft curls.
Even to a place like this, Nami always believes in looking like a million bucks.]
no subject
A surge of fear jolted through him before he could stop it, and he could feel eyes turn in his direction before he could stamp it down again. He'd heard they could smell fear but the humans knew so little about what was fact or fiction it was all terrifying whispers and rumors. All he knew was he couldn't control his own body and he'd just been led into a room full of his most hated predators.
Fuck. ]
no subject
She declines the second dose of the drug and escorts the boy to the waiting car, a short limo with opposite-facing seats. Much as she dislikes the drugging practice, she does have to grant it makes it easier to leave with minimal fuss. She takes a seat opposite him, crossing one leg over the other and not bothering with the belt.
And as the vehicle sets into motion, she watches his expression for indication his head is clearing. The best chance to talk is that in-between stage where his head is clearer but his body still affected. When his sense of awareness seems adequate, she speaks, her voice and expression a flat deadpan.]
Before you do anything stupid, you should listen to what I have to say. I want to make a deal.
no subject
Even from here, he can feel the pull of her gaze, some part of him wanting to react to it, even as it made him furious at himself.
Pinned in place by the drugs and the intensity of her stare, he can only scowl back. Although her words get a small, derisive scoff from him. ]
Vampires don't make deals. They give orders and expect everyone else to fall all over themselves to grovel and obey.
no subject
[It's an unsurprising attitude from him, of course. She can see that charm plain as day making him as one of the rebellion. He wouldn't have committed himself to the cause if he didn't hate vampires.]
I don't fault you the distrust. But hear me out before you jump to any conclusions. You might be surprised.
no subject
I'm surprised you're bothering with words, does that count? Most people don't try to talk to their dinner.
no subject
[Not that he is her dinner, but since he's determined to believe he is, she may as well take the moment to poke holes in his argument instead. Denials, assurances, and promises to the contrary, at this point, are going to get no traction.]
no subject
[ Considering he could still barely manage to twitch his fingers... ]
I was never any good at keeping quiet anyway. [ He shoots her a sharp, sardonic smirk at that, fire lingering in his gaze. ] I'd say sorry, but I'm betting we both know that'd be a lie.
no subject
That's right. And that suits me fine. I'm not interested in anyone passive. That'll get you killed in the job I have planned for you-- should you choose to take it.
no subject
What the fuck are you on about?
no subject
[She holds that smirk; it's playful, mischievous. She's teasing curiosity and knows it. It's what she wants-- real curiosity means paying attention. And he should be curious. It's his life they're talking about, after all.]
no subject
It's not like I can go anywhere, is it?
[ You can take that as a yes, Nami. ]
no subject
I'm interested in people to be part of a ship's crew. We're planning a voyage south to investigate a lead to a hidden trove. It's not a journey for cowards. Survival for everyone depends on cooperation, trust and perseverance. If you're wondering why I would seek cooperation and trust from someone who's dedicated himself to hunting vampires, that's where the deal comes in:
I spent 85,000 bailing you out of there. I played by the rules of the system, but I want it clear I don't have any love for it as an institution. So let's think of this more like an indentured servitude. You messed up and got caught, but if you pay me back in labor, I'll let you have your freedom back. No strings attached.
I'll consider completion of this voyage full repayment.
no subject
...It sounds too good to be true. Which means it probably is. ]
Bullshit. You're telling me all I gotta do is survive one sea voyage and that's it? I'm free? Even if I did take you at your word and you followed through on it, what then? I can't go anywhere in the city. I'm branded now. Owned. There's no freedom from that. It's a life sentence. I'd be picked up the first time one of the guards spotted me anywhere on my own.
no subject
On that subject, she simply poses:]
What would you propose as an alternative?
[There are some corrections to be made on the record of expectations, but those can wait for now.]