Ambrose a Vampire RP

With a smile Bret could see he had gotten lucky. This girl seemed to like displeasing her parents as much as he enjoyed pestering and annoying the plantation owners. The only difference now was that he had a accomplice, someone to work with as he thumbed his nose at society.


He snuck a look at her father who was practically crawling with disgust and he had a strong desire to at that moment speak of rebellion. Although he had never planned one Bret had attempted to run twice already and would have made it farther without the tags and collar around his neck. Anyway that thought was off topic and his Mistress had asked him a question requiring a witty or at least sarcastic answer. In a way he was fulfilling his role perfectly because she just wanted someone to annoy her parents with, “A tragic shame,” he replied his eyes rolling for extra benefit.


He listened quietly to her question and decided to outline his training, “Well I have been trained to strike, attack, wound, injury, punch, and kick anyone who I feel is putting me or I assume you in any danger. In short I have been trained to fight,” he said putting emphasis on the word Fight.
 
Iliana was surprised at Bret's answer. She asked him what he would do if he wasn't forced to serve under Vampire rule, and he had simply gone into his training from the plantation. She seemed a bit disappointed, this showed that being servants was really ALL the Serfs knew. When asked what a Serf would rather be doing, the only answer was a list of things they were taught to do. Iliana had no reason why this made her so terribly upset. Vampires were made to rule, and Humans were born to serve, right?


Finally the carriage arrives back at the castle. Iliana is the last out of the carriage, and leads Bret into their home silently. "I suppose someone should show you around... Otherwise it's very easy to become lost in here." Iliana said. The statement couldn't be more true. There were four wings, one for each direction -North, South, East, and West- and multiple branches off of each wing. Iliana called for one of her parents Serfs. "I'm going to retreat to my wing for a bath, this one will show you the ropes." Iliana said simply. She and one female Serf took off for the South wing while the older Serf led Bret around, teaching him where everything was.


"The South wing belongs to miss Iliana..." the Serf explained when they had toured the rest of the castle. "Chances are she's still in the bath. I wouldn't go in there, she doesn't like to be bothered. I'm sure you'll eventually be doing things like drawing baths and such, but you probably shouldn't interrupt the Mistress when she's... You know, unclothed and such." the older Serf seemed nervous about talking about such matters, surely one would think a servant wouldn't be bothered by a nude girl. "I went in once unannounced... I simply forgot she was undressed. Got quite a beating from my master for walking in on his daughter..." His face reddened, obviously humiliated.


"Well now that you know your way around, I suppose you should probably work on some household chores..." The Serf continued. "We keep a list in the kitchen, everything needs to be accomplished at the end of the day... Each Serf get different chores..." He led Bret back to the West wing, where the Serfs roomed and where the kitchen and laundry areas were. "I'll be around if you'd be needin' me... Good luck kid." He wobbled off to begin working.
 

Lynix was found singing in his cell when they went to get him that morning. A maddening song that made no sense, composed of random words, and at times sentences of abuse. He song it with such happiness and joy on his face, that it made the vampire shuttered a bit. This one was broken, surely no good and this week was his last chance to find a home before being put down.


“Is it time for my daily beating?” were the first spoken words out of his mouth when he noticed the vampire, getting to his feet at once to join by the tender’s side. “Oh please please say it is, I have ever so been waiting! I’ll be good, or bad, or whatever it is that causes them.”





Another shutter and the vampire would shake his head. “It’s another market day, no beatings. Now hush, we have to get you ready.” By this time the vampire found it a waste but usher the boy along as always.


Lynix was like a wild puppy as they tried to keep him still to scrub and dress him. Running about the place, oh so tempting them to punish him as always, tightening the collar to where he barely could breath was all they could to calm him down it seemed. Almost dragging him out to the yard where his wide insane eyes dashed about curious, only to sink at the uninteresting site.


When a female came, or what he took as a female and asked them a question he merely tilted his head confused. What was his name? Stupid? Freak? Insane? He heard them all, perhaps one of those were it. He merely smiled trying his best to find an answer. Only to end up stating all proudly after awhile “I’m insane, is it time for my daily beating yet?” What the freak was wrong with him?


 
Rosa shivered under his touch but accepted it. She was beginning to trust his movements but he was slow and deliberate not fast and wild. His words confused her but asking questions was still uncharted territory for her and required a certain amount of courage which she had not reached quite yet. She was even unsure how she could betray him unless he began telling her things he didn’t want others to hear but as a serf her job was to serve him and no one else.


Rosa was surprised that he was just leaving her here to eat but than again he seemed to be quite relaxed in his actions and who was she to question it. Then again he might hook her lead to one of the many looks hanging on the wall and Rosa wouldn’t bat an eye.


She scanned the lengthy menu finally settling on a light soup similar to what had been served in the plantation. “The lentil soup will be enough,” she said pointing with a gloved hand to the words. She felt intrusive upon his life based on the fact that his day sounded loaded with errands and she was slowing him. Than again these were all his choices, Rosa had not asked for a single one of the things he had done for her.


The way he spoke of his home made her worry and wonder what was to come once she reached her final home. Once the soup came she ate not quickly but did not waste a moment of her time or her Master's. She had no desire to make him wait in the alley for her while she, a serf, waited. That seemed backwards and wrong to her.


--- Merged Double Post ---


He could tell the answer did not please his Mistress but he was only being half honest. Despite the fact that she wanted him to goad her parents on and he loved to do so with her he could risk letting them see his true self. If they realized how many times he thought of escape or rebellion, he would be put down in a heartbeat and risking his life for a meaningless question was not his cup of tea.


They arrived before a castle as he was taking the sight in his Mistress left calling a guide for him and taking leave to a bath. He was then led around for a good forty five minutes getting the grand door and a basic sense of the castle. He listened quietly to the elderly serf who had obviously not been receiving his venom everyday; his master was allowing him to age. Bret wondered if the Master was going to let his own serf die or keep him immortal and frozen at this age.


As he recounted his embarrassing story he took note making sure to check and knock on every door before entering. Although annoying Bret had boundaries and being rude to a woman human or vampire was one of the lines.


Once they had returned to the West wing he inspected the chart finally settling on tending the garden in front of his Mistress’s window. He made his was to a patch bushes and ivy below the balcony and rolled up his sleeves. Bret than began to tear weeds from the ground.
 
Abram watched in disinterest as they began to tell their names and stumble upon something to say of themselves. To be honest he was feeling disappointed with the prospects. None of them had that 'Mother shall implode' factor he was ever so hopeful of finding. He was feeling ever so gloomy until he happened upon a fidigity one that couldn't even speak promptly upon request. Oh tell me more, he though to himself wondering just what else this possible pet had in store. His maddening grin could not be withheld as lo and behold, it spoke such magical words. He stepped closer to this prospect, giddy with delight as he closer examined his prize. A hand went to it's chin as he turned his head this way and that.


The pet, er serf's features were somewhat soft and sweet. A very deceptive face to say the least. Jittery black eyes made hesitant contact after Abram wouldn't break eye contact. Yes this one was perfect, almost too perfect. He released his grip and turned to the trader. "I will take this one, do name your price."


 
Iliana finished her bath and dried. The female Serf who'd accompanied her helped her dress into a white flowing sundress. Iliana left her hair damp, clinging in small curls as it dried. She walked out to her room and glanced over to the window. The sun was rising and she only had a few waking hours left. Although terribly harsh on her crimson eyes, Iliana had an urge to peel back the black curtains the tiniest bit to glance out. The sun wasn't up yet, so she wasn't going to be in excruciating pain just from looking out. She glanced down and saw that Bret was already out tending the gardens. "He seems to be adjusting well..." Iliana mumbled. She was happy to see that he was very useful, he clearly knew what he was doing.


Iliana crossed the room, sitting down at her vanity mirror to brush through her hair. At least she'd learned to do that much for herself. She looked in the mirror, dismissing the human girl who was still awaiting orders. She examined her reflection. She certainly didn't seem old or mature enough to have her own human. She sighed, just hoping she was cut out for this sort of responsibility. She'd never done anything beyond verbally scolding her parents pets. What if her own acted out of line? She wouldn't have it in her to correct him... She continued brushing her hair, hoping everything was going to work out okay in the end, just like it always had.
 



Vinnie would raise an eyebrow at her order, and then give her a stern look. “You have a lot to learn.” He shook his head, that couldn’t be the only thing. “Bring her a nice plate of a mixture of things as well.” He would go to pay, not about to lock her up, but going back to check with her once more. “I have some hot tea coming as well, be careful not to burn yourself.” He said calmly, she would learn to be a lady before he was done with her. “I also want you to at least sample everything on that plate to come . . . you don’t have to finish or eat it all.” That playful grin was back. “I do want a detail report on what you think of each item though and which you like best and so forth.” With that he would give a slight wave, and actually move to lightly pat her on the back before heading down the street.





She was probably stuck waiting for him once more, his errands taking longer than he planned. There was a reason though he told her to take her time. Entering the alley he gave her a questioning look, perhaps wondering how long she had waited for him. In his hands he held a small bag, and what looked to be a beautiful violin case. It was decorated with a fabric which held tiny little roses all over it. “Did you wait long?” He asked softly moving to sit down the items, before gently trying to take her in his arms. Letting go and moving away if she flinched or showed any signs of . . . well pressure or not wanting it.





IF she let him embrace her he would slowly remove the collar dropping it to the ground and bit her gentle to feed and inject her with the venom she needed for the day. Finishing he would pull away and explain. “First thing on your to do list is to make sure you remind me to do that daily. Unless of course you want to grow old suddenly and die.”








--- Merged Double Post ---


Lynix allowed the female to hold his face, his eyes trying to escape, but falling deep into the vampires after awhile. Confusion, maybe a bit of sanity still remaining deep inside, he was worthless after all, freak, insane. He paused tilting his head ever so slightly when the vampire spoke of keeping him. Going almost hyper with happiness he would dash over to the female looking vampire and try to lick her face. Was he more of a mutt than a human now?





Of course the seller wasn’t sure what to do there, slap the guy to the ground or just let it happen. After a quick panic he would slap Lynix away scoiling the boy and his ignorance. Course shamefully getting Lynix smiling all happy “Yes sir, thank you sir, I know I am sir.”





The boy returned back to line, as the seller was unsure of what price to name. Probably over pricing the boy a little trying to get something out of the trouble he had to deal with him. “Are you sure you want him ma’am . . . he may seem tamed, but it’s the insane ones that are the most dangerous.” He seemed worried for his customer’s safety in away. “If there is no talking you out of it . . . then what skills shall we try to teach it for you?”





‘It!’ thought Lynix yet another marvelous name he was given once more. Boy was he lucky to be loved so much to be given so many names.


 
Bret could hear what he assumed to be his mistress up in her room. She had stepped out on the balcony but had not taken the time to turn and look at her. He had not seen the point and the work before him although mindless was completely absorbing. Pulling, preening and dead heading the rose bushes until there was nothing but green. He had gathered the weeds into small unobtrusive piles beside each patch of mulch and all that was left was to gather them up. Bret made his way from patch to patch cleaning up the mess he had left behind. He walked to the garden behind the kitchen where the trash was thrown dumping the grubby plants.


The serf was by now dripping with sweat, it wasn’t the actual exertion as much as the heat that had made him so sweaty. He slipped into the West Wing checking the list, he would next go dust his Mistress’s room but first Bret needed to clean himself up. He dunked his head in water and washed the dirt off of his arm before grasping a basket of cleaning materials and making the trek to his mistress’s room.
 
In a deep sleep, a small vampirette lay in the comfort of her bed. The blinds of her room were closed, making the room especially dark. She only had one window, and had a fairly small room for the daughter of an aristocratic Vampire. Of course, this particular vampirette was the least liked in her family. Why? She was different, she acted different, she looked different, she viewed life differently than most vampires.


She was the youngest child of a wealthy business man who owned his very own plantation, and a mother who had her hands full spending money to her heart's greedy content. The little vampirette was usually catered by her father's advisors, or her older, equally successful in life, siblings. Whenever she came in direct contact with her parents, she was usually met with scorn.


Life for the little vampirette was not as luxurious as most would believe. She was used to decisions being made on her behalf, having no say in her own fate, and she was often tricked into doing work for her older siblings, or even some serfs. She grew up shy, and almost void of her own identity. But even so, she was different. She liked to eat human foods, she liked to be around Humans, and worse of all... She was born with a shameful birth defect. Her fangs were dull and stubby, as well as sensitive. In her overly-superstitious family, this was a sign of a failure.


The little vampirette lived her own little Cinderella story. But she never truly seemed bothered by it. In fact, she admired how the humans could persevere even though their lives held a far worse fate.


As the little vampirette slept, a visitor quietly tip-toed inside her little den.


"Mistress Kew? Your mother has requested your presence." A serf, female, one of the Vampirette's older sibling's. She felt safe around Kew, because she never had a temper, and never abused anyone. The serf knew it was a sin in the eyes of the Vampires, but she felt sort of sorry for this particular Vampirette.


Kew began to awaken, slowly opening her large sapphire eyes. She sat up and groggily yawned. She stretched her arms and gazed at the serf before her. Bowing and scurrying out of the room, the serf left to preform the rest of her duties. While Kew's siblings usually had serfs to dress and bathe them, Kew had to preform all basic duties such as that by herself. Her mother was queen of vanity, and Kew knew she would have to shower and put on her best dress. So Kew did just that before finally heading out of the dark little den.
 
Abram was without words at this toy's shocking reaction. He was stunned, which made him quite happy, but it took a full minute to recover and by then his new toy was being scolded. His hand went to his cheek and pulled away a variant of drool or saliva. This one was truly like a mutt. Oh how he wished a year could go by now. Almost tempted to take him here and now, he realized that he still did need this mutt of his to know a few things. So he agreed on the base price and debated internally just what he wanted his toy to learn for him. "This one needs to be proficient in mundane tasks. Of cleaning, cooking, dressing, the usual sorts. Also try at it with an instrument, have him try different ones and teach him at one he has a knack for... perhaps singing" he glances at the one he couldn't stop referring to as a mutt "Or not. I haven't a clue. Perhaps drama." he was getting excited thinking of all the ways he could use his mutt to infuriate his mother. "Oh and do find it an activity, aside from punishment. Something he enjoys and would be able to entertain himself with when I have no need for him. As for punishment, it seems a perfect reward for him, just nothing that won't go away in a few days time, and one more thing, stop confusing my toy about names. When I come for him I expect him to be called something, and to recognize it, even if it's Mutt, for sakes the boy needs a name."


His requirements now spelled out and his small rant over he patted the boy on the head. "Also, no more bites for this one, I expect him to age up a full year by the next time I see him." He turned away and headed straight for home. He couldn't wait to tell Vinnie of his most amazing find in the district today. Thinking of Vinnie put a smile to his face, perhaps I shall make an acquaintance of my dear friend later today, he mused to himself while heading into the main hall of his over-elaborate home. Once more a smile came to his face as he saw the birdbrain of earlier limping around whilst doing extra house duties. Oh dear Mother, I love the games we play.
 
Rosa was confused again by what he was saying. She was in reality surprised by his choice to change her order. She had been kept on a strict diet on the plantation to make her blood as healthful and beneficial to vampires even at the expense of their own health. Her choice had contained a few vegetables that contained her normal dosage of iron for the day. At the plantation, they liked to feed the serfs foods high in iron and lucky for the plantation owners the organs normally discarded by butchers were high in iron. Some serfs couldn’t handle the amount of iron in their diet while others could not handle the food provided. Rosa knew that if a serf was too sickly they were put down which is why she was always ate only a fraction of what was provided to her in fear of getting ill.


But she was happy to comply and the dish brought before her was a beautiful sampling of almost everything in the menu. She began by trying everything once than looping back around trying her favorite foods again. Every dish was minimized until it was a mere two to three bites worth and it was the best meal she had ever had. The tea was warm and she could practically feel the heat rushing through her veins as she walked into back alleyway.


She waited there for only twenty minutes and was happy to just sit quietly. Rosa knew that tomorrow her life would be much different and cleaning would once again become the forefront of her focus but for today she was content. When her Master rounded the corner carrying with him the small violin Rosa was elated. “Its beautiful,” she whispered but before she could say anything he had taken her into her arms. Rosa did not fight him; she was more than anything confused by what he was doing. She had never been held before and now he was removing her collar. That’s when her nerves really sky rocketed but yet she still didn’t move. Rosa just waited trying to understand. When he finally sunk his teeth into her neck instead of standing perfectly still as normal she felt her skin shudder. Her body didn’t move but he skin did, betraying her true surprise.


As the venom coursed through her body, the familiar burn in her chest appeared than the icy chill on her shoulder as her wound iced over. She leaned down picking up her collar. She looked at him questioningly before cracking a smile at his cold hard truthful joke. She was now officially dependent on him for life as was he to her. “I can remember that,” Rosa said with a small smile helping to gather his things.
 



Over hearing a touch of what his new master said Lynix would giggle happily before saying in a sing-song voice. “I can sing I can sing, I can sing for my punishment, it usually follows mostly when I sing!”





--training—





Oh how Abram didn’t know how much he asked for, and the seller almost wished he asked for more just to train the little mutt. Seeing as no one really had a care for Lynix his new name ended up as being Mutt. More as a mockery than anything else in ways, it was easier to yell at him after all.





Oddly enough even though insane Lynix took to learning things quickly, a sign of what a bright Serf he once was and nothing else though. In fact it was him who would beg for extra lesions at times, willing to work extra hard just for them. To save them the trouble of punishing or so they agreed since when learning he seemed in his best behavior.





He seemed to be able to handle decently a lot of instruments, but something . . . deeper seemed to stir within him when he played the flute. This reason alone was why he ended up learning it, it was a calming sense about him, almost as if it showed some sanity was left.





---year later—





When it was time to be picked up, Lynix (mutt) would be dressed in black cotton pants and a white cotton shirt and be left chained out front waiting for his master. He seemed slightly more calmed when Abram probably got there, course this was due to him running in circles the whole time before wearing himself out.


 
A year passed easy enough for Abram, who pulled his usual stunts. It was most entertaining for him when Mother asked of his serf, what sort of mannerisms she may possess, or what skills he made sure she would learn. Was she beautiful? But of course he would request she play piano. The list went on and on. He had no idea where his mother got the notion he had selected a female, but it made the anticipation all that much richer for the 'grand reveal'.


It took him the longest time to decide his attire. Sure he had two outfits laid out for him, but there was such a distinction between a suit and dress. He watched the serf eye the bed then him nervously, already tiring of playing with her. With a sigh he pointed to the suit and could practically smell the relief come off of her in waves as she assisted him in dressing. He had been shameless bragging to Vinnie of the one he affectionately called Mutt, and couldn't wait to show him off. Then again, how has his toy fared in a year's time? Once more he stood in front the full length mirror, his hair tied back neatly aside from the strays that refused to be tamed. This time he wore a blouse that flowed out with simple buttons holding it to his person. As for his pants, simple grey slacks did the trick. Sure his features were still feminine, but dressed right with his hair cooperating he could look dashing, if he said so himself.


To the serf's surprise he thanked her for assisting him, even though she failed to see how she had to of aided and abetted another of his schemes, for he only thanked her for the aforementioned thought. And once more to Abram's delight he knew she would be fearful for her pathetic life, he chuckled some while leaving once more. In due time he made way to where his pet would be and when he saw him he swore the ground around him was dug around in a circle. He came up to him and petted him on the head once more. "Do tell me of what you learned in the passing year" He was delighted to see the boy had grown taller and had aged some in their time apart. He eyed the chain and brought out a small package which he threw to him "Put it on" were his orders as he took the chain off the boys neck. Inside the package would be a simple collar, similar to what some used for animals to show their names and information of their owners. He even had a tag for him that would be detailed once he learned of his name.


He asked one last question "What do you go by now?"


 



The boy was sitting there just waiting, head perking up slightly at all who passed. He would pause looking confused at the one who approached him. A year was a long time to remember for a warped little head of his. The pat on it though semi reminded him and he would once more try to lick his master’s cheek like last time, all excited to see him again.








Taken the collar he would gnawl on it a few times before given his master a questioning look. Pausing as if taken in the words he would put it on proudly, not caring if it was right side up or backwards or not. Where the other collar was, there could easily be seen brushes and where he had rubbed the skin raw by pulling against the chain the used to hold him.





The fact that the vampire seemed to talk to him in a normal tone merely confused the serf, and he would tilt his head once more trying to figure the word he was called most; only to say proudly “Mutt!” Before circling his master to repeat it over and over again excited. He seemed happy enough at least, of course he was probably the one of the few serfs who ever was.





He stopped when he realized he missed a question and slowly walked forward head lowered as if waiting for a punishment. He would just stand there all the while as if not willing to move or anything else till he got it. “Daily punishment time!” He gleamed sure he had deserved it.


 
Abram watched his new toy hesitantly. Had he broken it before he had a chance to play with it? He shrugged it off, figuring if it truly was broken he could always get another. "And DAILY punishment?!" he glances furiously at the trader but said nothing for he only interpreted his orders how he understood them. He mumbled about next time being more careful with his instructions. "No punishment for the one that is ripping his neck raw with these things" he told Mutt, another literal mistake of his own, whilst loosening his collar some. He was beginning to realize this pet was truly going to be like a pet. He would lead him, drag him if need be, back to his home with hopes of meeting up with Vinnie in the near future.


Not too much to his surprise his parents were waiting for him at the entrance. "What-is this thing?" Mother asked, revolted by Abram's choice of Serf. The woman didn't look a day past her early twenties, but Abram believed if she were to ever have wrinkles they would be pulled back by that ever so tight bun, if Mother's fierce scowl didn't scare them away. And but of course her and Father were dressed to the nines in latest ridiculous fashions and such. "Now dear-" Father was cut off before even trying to defend his questionable choice in serf.


"Oh but Mother he can sing!" Abram replied in amusement. "How about it Mutt, show them what you got?"
 
The mutt would follow Abram all happily, only slightly confused and given a pout by the lack of punishment. He dashed around his new master as they walked. Silent for once, perhaps wondering when he would get a stick (what most considered a flute.)


When he arrived, he stood silently back as the master talked to his parents only to jump towards them trying to lick them both on the cheek, and would proudly if he wasn’t stopped. When told to sing he would run back to the master smiling proudly to sit at his feet, back to his master facing the parent’s since the song was for them. His voice wasn’t so bad as he sung, and the fact he seemed to make up the words on the fly was probably amusing never the less.


“I can sing and you cannot


Punishment is a daily lot.


When you hit me I enjoy it a lot


Master tries to be so hot


You are such a bunch of bots


Will I sleep inside a cot


I once ate a huge big moth


….”


The words would go on and on like this until he was stopped of course.


--- Merged Double Post ---





As rose bent to gather the things Vinnie would move to try to gently grab her wrist. He would wave a finger about with his other hand. “Tsk tsk, but you are an impatient one.” He chuckled, moving to quickly grab the stuff before she could. “It’s not nice to rush ahead and peak you know.” His eyes frown at the color she had repacked up. “What do you want to do most with that thing you have there?” He asked honestly stepping back keeping the violin and small bag from her for now.


Moving to hold the smaller bag under his arm, it was probably a tad bigger than his hand at most. He would look her over unsure before glancing back to the closed violin case. He was perhaps pondering some of his choices in the matter before carefully opening to show her the violin inside. “Listen, and listen carefully Rosa.” He spoke as he took it gently from its case. The wood color of it was a rosy wood color, and where carvings and designs could be placed on a violin without it messing up the sound would show little carved roses, the head being a bloomed rose as well.


It was all too obvious he had it painstakingly custom made to match the flower closes to her name. “This is yours.” He said in a serious almost commanding voice. “If you ruin it, you will not be punished, if you sell, destroy, keep, or take care, it is all up to you.” His green eyes tried to hold hers serious. “I know this concept might be hard for you to understand, but I figured the first thing to truly be yours should be something special.” He honestly wasn’t flirting; he was just kind in ways. “Is there anything you don’t understand about what I just said?” With his last question he would start to re-case the violin hiding its beauty from the world once more before handing the case to her. It couldn’t be possible that he didn’t have this planned out a little after their first meeting though or the violin would have never been done in time. “If you are to rid yourself of it though, I would like to hear you play at least once later at our home.”


At that he would step back given her time to react or get over any shock she might have fiddling with the last small bag he had. Inside was a necklace jewelry box, where her new collar roamed. He knew that if she was to feel any freedom the obvious lowering one had to go. Instead he got her one much like a necklace, it didn’t hide any bite marks she might receive but it wouldn’t cause any pain either. It was simple, yet elegant, and it was even easy for her to put on and off. In his eyes he didn’t care if she took it off to sleep or bath or what not as long as she put it back on. The locket was also shaped like a rose, and when it opened, her name, new address, master’s name and such was inside. Opening the box he gave a shrug before closing it and tossing it at her. “Pick whichever you prefer to wear, and let’s get going.”
 
Abram watched as his Mutt attacked his parents faces with enthusiasm. Mother went rigid, unsure of how to react with dignity. Of course Father would pull out a handkerchief and wipe away the drool on her face before curtly wiping away the remains on his own face. Abram watched in delight as his pet came to his side and serinaded him with a most wonderful song. The blondes face was quite expressive and showed just how pleased he was while his mother paled even more considerably so. He loved how they could not just walk away or demand his pet to stop, after all Mother was all for show and protocol. So Abram watched everso until his pet's voice began to strain, noting to self just what Mutt's limit was he petted the top of his head "that's enough for now" and he walked into the doorway without properly concluding his conversation with his parents, knowing Mutt would be steps behind him.


He saw his mother's birdbrain of a slave who reddened when she noticed his notice. She had obviously been eavesdropping on the ongoing of outside and he pondered justvhowvthe poor girl would be punished for his misdeeds this time. "Take Mutt and give him a tour of the place, I expect you to be through as so he is to know what is where so that I am not inconvenienced." he gave his toy a nod and shooed them off while turning off to his bedroom. Calling over his shoulder he told her to show Mutt how he likes his tea and that he expected some once the tour was through.


Annabel, as she would introduce herself would lead him around the place, trying to keep him on focus if he were to be distracted or perhaps try to run off. She would sneak glances at him not understanding him in the slightest, but she tried to warn him off displeasing the Madame. Once the tour was completed he would know where everything was in Abram's wing of the house and would know of the room he would be expected to stay in. Madames area was off limits but she explained the layout just in case. Annabel wondered if he was truly taking this all in, and how severe her punishment would be if he wasn't. They ended up in the main kitchen while she instructed him in the matters of Master Abram's tea.
 
A few rays of golden sunshine pierced through the cracks in the deep violet curtains, creating interesting patterns upon the wall of the young nobleman’s chamber. The vampire himself was still deep in sleep upon his wide, four poster bed. It wasn't too long, however, before the doorknob creaked and the door swung open. A short young man, obviously the butler shown by his apparel, briskly strolled to the window and pulled back the thick curtains, flooding the room with morning light. “Master Arion, it’s time to get up.” Timothy slowly opened one pale green eye to look at the butler before sighing deeply. “Martin, I did not ask for a wake up call…” he snapped lightly with distaste, sitting up. The butler turned to face Timothy, bowing low in respect. “I understand Master, but I am beginning to fear for your health.” The vampire ran his fingers through his tousled, jet black hair, now opening both eyes to give the butler a stern look. Nervously, Martin fumbled with his gloved hands. “Master Timothy, you haven’t had fresh human blood straight from the source in years. It is beginning to affect your appearance,” he stated truthfully, “Your ninety-ninth birthday was just last week and may I remind you that you are now of age to pick out your own serf.” Timothy turned his gaze away from the butler, resting his chin on his fist. As much as he hated to admit it, Martin was right. After the tragic death of his parents, Timothy had immediately sold his parents' serfs for it was too painful a remind of what he had lost. He was making due but a young vampire can only go so long without fresh blood each day; he was already quite thin and became fatigued often because of it. Maybe it was finally time for him to get his own pet, he needed another hand around the giant mansion anyway. “I suggest that you get a fresh start this morning at a serf plantation before the other vampires,” the butler stated. Timothy pulled away the ornate covers and stood, his thin, shirtless form now towering over the short slave. He nodded at Martin’s suggestion then waved his hand towards the closet, implying for Martin to fetch his clothes. “I need my fine riding habit and my steed brushed and saddled,” he commanded tersely. Martin made no hesitation as he helped his master dress then scurried out of the room down to the stables. Timothy gazed out the window for a moment, looking over the magnificent horse farm that’d been founded by his father with a steady eye. It was truly the finest stable in all of Tyradul; he had supplied many a high class vampire with noble, exquisite horses for their carriages and personal riding. Momentarily, he then ventured downstairs and out on the mansion’s front porch where Martin stood obediently, holding a magnificent buckskin stallion, saddled and bridled as requested. The horse’s golden coat shone brilliantly in the sunlight and its black mane and tail rippled downwards towards ground as it shook its graceful head up and down, nickering at the sight of its rider. “That will be all, Martin,” Timothy told the butler before swinging into the saddle with ease and gripping the reigns. Giving the horse a gentle kick, he started off in search of a credible serf plantation.


It wasn’t long before the nobleman vampire arrived at the plantation, which was already in a bustle as the handlers rushed back and forth, preparing the serfs for market day. He was early, but better to be early and get first pick than late. Dismounting from his horse, suddenly the entire grounds became hushed as they realized who it was. Timothy’s lips formed a straight, hard line, as he returned the shocked stares with his own stern one. In a few moments, the hectic rushing recommenced as the plantation owner came out to welcome the Master of the Arion Household. “Welcome, Timothy, it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen your face around these parts!” the owner cried, shaking Timothy’s hand firmly, “Is it finally that time? Follow me, my good sir, so you can browse our finest collection first hand. It will just take a moment for the merchandise to be displayed.” With that, another vampire led Timothy’s horse to a hitching post and the owner led the young vampire into the buyers’ plush waiting room.
 
Iliana turned when she heard a knock on the door. It was her Serf, Bret. She allowed him in to work while she was trying to style her own hair. She would figure it out one of these days, then she wouldn't be reliant on a pet to do it for her. The curls fell down to her back when she incorrectly pinned it. She sighed and gave another attempt, this time snagging her blonde locks on the pin meant to old it in place.


She paused to look in the mirror to see Bret dusting. She probably shouldn't look like a total idiot in front of the humans. It seemed improper for them to see her unable to do something that was, for them, so simple. She yanked hard on the pin and it came loose. She laid it on the vanity desk and gingerly touched her scalp where a few strands of hair had been tugged out in her carelessness. She tried to brush out the tangles.
 
Amber awoke to the splash of water on her face. No matter how many times they did that, it wasn't something one could get used to so she jolted up and went wide eye for a moment until rationalization hit her. She glared at the vampire that was all too happy for soaking her. With a sigh she crawled out of the less than ideal variation of a blanket and began to strip the bed, noticing another bucket, this one with steam coming from it, and not wanting to fight such a silly task for such a harsh punishment. She was surprised when the vampire stopped her mid-motion grabbing her hand, and her knee jerk reaction was to pull away and hold her hand to her body, as if it were contaminated.


"Today's the day" he snickered, "No time for chores, you need a lot of work done."


He demanded that she undress, but now knowing the water was for bathing, it lost it's threat and she refused to comply. Until the realization hit her that he would undress her himself, and that involved him touching her. With her tune changed she turned around to assume any dignity she could muster and undressed. The removal of the simple pullover and baggy drawers were a relief in itself for they irritated her skin in a way she had never gotten used to. Feeling cold eyes on her person she reached her arm out "Washrag" she demanded, knowing full well the throttling would come later, but at least she would be spared for the day.


There was a stale silence in the air until the vampire spoke, his temper already getting the best of him. "Who do you think you are to be making demands-"


Refusing to turn and face him, giving him the possible satisfaction of giving her chills with his expression and dark eyes she responded curtly "The product. That can not be sold if damaged. You'd be surprised at how damaged one could get while fighting off the touch of scum like yourself" Oh yes, tonight there would be hell to pay. But she rathered pain than the touch of a creature such as he. The bites were bad enough. She felt the touch of a warm wetness in her outstretched palm and looked to find he had given her the washrag after all. She made sure to scrub her body pristine, while he made sure to fill up the silence with promises of what he would do to her once she returned.


Thankfully when it came to dressing fellow prisoners were the ones to help, poor souls that had already been sold and were being trained for their new captors. Amber was surprised when they placed a corset around her person, but was happy they didn't pull it to the extreme of not being able to breathe as other serfs had forewarned of. A pale peach shade dress was selected and worn, and while one serf worked on quick altercations, another began to brush out her hair. Once done she would have a clip of hand painted flowers in her hair for decoration, and she wore cosmetics that added some color to her cheeks and made her eyes even more dramatic.


In no time Amber was in the market, lined up with male and female serfs alike, all expected to the same fate, alas one or two that wouldn't make it home this time if not sold. She gave the boy a reassuring hug before being torn away from him, she could feel her skin bruising from the force of the chain being pulled. But looking back and seeing him smile it was worth it, though now her hand went to her neck to rub away the pain.
 
“…….


I once was hit with a bat


hear my bones went crack


twas a week I could not sat


just because I tore up a hat


You can use me as a mat


I'm worth even less than that


I knew a serf once named matt


wondered where my brains are at


now can I go chase a cat


killed my friend who was a rat


master will never be fat


my head he seems to like to pat


when I was smart I used to run


then was hit and ruined fun


now I liked it a whole ton


my insanity is what was won


work all day in that sun


feed me stale bread or bun


all you vampires be cun . . .


ants will eat you when your done


never been called someone's hun


of love I will get none


did you get the earlier pun


your going to beat me anyway


should enjoy is what I say


especally in the month of may


where the ships come to bay


with serfs you must never lay


for that rule we all scream yay


but some vamps give that rule a nay


they think it's all a okay


for it is only the serfs to pay


I suppose in that we're a sun ray


tommorrow is just another day


once I ran really fast


feet felt nice on cool grass


I know how to kick some . . .”





The mutt would go on forever if it wasn’t for his master stopping him. His eyes glancing up with a smile to his master, he would merely nod proudly. This was one of the first time he didn’t get punished for singing. He paused, the smile fading some at that thought . . . now confused, wasn’t he suppose to be punished for singing? “Punishment?” He would ask once outside of the room which held the parents. The poor thing was at a loss of what to expect and not to expect now.





It was when the master sent him away to learn what sounded like boring stuff that he would perk again. “Punishment!” That’s what this must be right? A new form of punishment since the old one didn’t work as well. Brilliant! …only problem was, it wasn’t that bad in mutt’s eyes.





When shown around the house the mutt tended to run off many times. Eyeing a painting, chewing on something now and then, it was ever so hard to get him to follow and listen when it wasn’t his master. I mean another serf was just like him anyways, he didn’t have to worry there. It was when he came across a mirror that was the hardest to make him leave again. His dark eyes stared deeply into it, confused . . . he hadn’t seen his reflection much before, and not for a long period of time. . . . and in truth . . . if that was him . . . he . . . how was he much different than those who punished?





When poor Annabelle finally managed to drag him away to teach him tea he was hyper again running about to kitchen with a renew energy. “Pour, pour, pour, lump, lump. Keep hot! Keep hot!” his versions of the instructions, but at least he learned correctly. After doing it a few times he would dash off to his master’s room probably spilling bits of tea down the hall. That was fine in his eyes though there was plenty left in the pot. Not even knocking he would open the door, get down on one knee and lift up the platter holding the remains of what tea was in a spilt cup, and a kettle.


 
Abram turned as he heard the door handle being turned. Placing his book back at the desk he turned as Mutt came in ever cheerful, and spilling his tea all over the place. With a sigh he mumbled about what the hell they were teaching the serfs where he came from and met the boy's eyes with a glare. "I am disappointed. You can not make a hassle of yourself by leaving messes everywhere you go. Place my tea at the table and clean up your mess". He would then turn away and make way back to the desk and his book. If the mutt were to stall or stand there lost he would point to the door with two words "Go. Annabelle." His fingers leafed through the pages of his book until he found his place once more and he sat atop the desk to read, not really caring to pull out the chair or call out to the pup to do it for him.


He would then sip his tea to find it just how he liked it and couldn't help but grin "Maybe there's hope for him after all" his hand went down to a compartment in the desk and pulled out a gold embroidered silk bag, it's content the instrument the traders at the plantation had told Abram that his toy was most skillful at. Yes a flute, a most simple yet beautiful instrument. He wiped the grin from his face and went back to his book, the gift would be given to the pet soon enough, and he hoped to hear beautiful music come from it.


 
Mutt’s eyes kept hold of Abram’s eyes, something a serf never should do, but oddly enough held them firmly with a hidden strength. Only to hear his master was disappointed. At that mutt lowered his head at once, standing there to get hit or punished. Only to be confused when nothing happened and the next response was him to get Annabelle. He would pause, glance back to the mess as if finally realizing and laughing some happily, or was that insanity?


He was in such a rush to show his master what a good job he did he messed it up. He wondered if the tea was bad as well but just shrugged it off. If so his master could just punish him like the rest did . . . right? Or he could just allow the boy to keep aging till he died. Another pause and the boy was on the floor licking up the spill tea . . . master did say clean right? He didn’t say how, and it was one of the few ways Serfs got something other than water after all. He would to this till all he spilt was gone, going back to sit by his master's side. Too bad his master wasn't sitting or he might have even rested his head in Adam's lap.


 
A few rays of sunlight managed to find their way through the grimy window into Jennifer’s stall, illuminating her thin form curled up on a mat upon the floor. Squinting, she slowly made her way into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. “Another day of captivity…,” she thought, her crystal blue eyes now becoming adjusted to her surroundings. The jingle of keys and heavy footsteps met her ears, causing her to flinch already, knowing what was coming. Her stall was unlocked by a foreboding looking vampire. “Alright you twit, get up,” he barked, grasping her arm roughly and pulling her to her feet. However, something wasn’t right… No beating for not standing up when told? Jennifer’s expression twisted into one of confusion. “You don’t know, do you? Big day today,” he sneered, giving her a toothy grin, “Your first time on the market.” Jennifer’s eyes widened at the statement and she quivered slightly, having mixed emotions. On one hand, this could mean a new life, maybe with a less strict vampire to lead her instead of these hooligans; yet, on the other, she could be going right from the frying pan and into the oven. The owner of the country plantation had avoided putting her on the market, due to her many escapades and schemes to escape. Jennifer, though, soon couldn’t take the severe beatings anymore, and had given in to most of what they asked of her. She still was stubborn and yearned for her freedom, but she’d buried those emotions deep inside of her in an attempt to make escape the horrible consequences of acting out against the handlers.


The vampire then leaned over her shoulder, holding her steady as he sank his fangs into the flesh of the base of her neck. Jennifer clenched her eyes shut, trying not to react as the venom at first burned in her veins but then became cold before dispersing. He soon pulled away and shoved the young girl forward out of the stall and down the hallway to the wash room where several other girls already stood. They were demanded to strip, at which Jennifer clenched her teeth, fighting the urge to speak back against the task. But instead, she bit her tongue and undressed as she was told, pulling off the pitiful burlap excuse for clothing. She inhaled sharply as a bucket of cold water was suddenly poured over her head, soaking her from head to toe. A handler then stepped up with a bucket of hot soapy water, which he used to scrub her down. Every stroke of the brush was agony against her skin, causing it to become pink and tender. Her hair was then washed thoroughly and she was rubbed dry with a towel. She was handed a light blue dress with a dark cobalt sash, which was in truth very simple, but to Jenny it was almost luxury. When she had dressed, a female serf brushed out any tangles in her long, black hair then braided her long bangs that hung down on either side of her face into a crown braid which accentuated her light, crystal blue eyes and made her gentle face more visible. A new leather collar was fastened around her neck and a price tag attached.


“Well look at you, the half wit troublemaker. you could actually be passed off as a good little slave,” one of the nearby handlers sneered, laughing at her. Jennifer glared at the handler and couldn’t resist the urge to kick him hard in the shin. He let out a cry of pain and roughly grabbed the black haired girl’s arm, yanking her to him. Slapping her across the face, he growled, “You’re lucky it’s market day…! Or else that would have earned a whipping!” With that, he clipped a lead to her collar and forcefully let her out into yard. She squinted in the bright sunlight until her eyes adjusted and inhaled deeply. Already, there were vampires browsing the collection of them as she was put in line. Her cheek stung immensely but she was too distracted to notice.
 



The day started like every other, the moment Xander started out of bed he had three serfs by his side. One for breakfast, one for blood, and one to help dress him, all acting in unison, amazingly not getting in each other way. Seeming utterly bored he would get his suit on, pull on some gloves, and head down to check on his father.





The older vampire was probably once more asleep at his desk, blue prints stuck to his face. Staying up all night was a ritual at times . . . inventors would be consider famous in ways sure, but once one grand idea came out . . . more and more were expected. It wasn’t a life that Xander wished to follow in that was for sure.





Moving to cover his father in a blanket gentle, he would then leave the room. Thoughts of hate towards his mother for leaving his father and himself to . . . well themselves and the insult she brought upon them. It was then one of the Serfs would approach him with the plans Xander had set aside for today. It was the reminder that it was time he got his own serf that made Xander wince, but what was to be done, was to be done. If he refused such he knew he couldn’t survive . . . and it would look weird to the public.





Waving off the Serf to ready a horse for him, he would meet out front. Inspecting the saddle and such to make sure it was firm he would mount and head down to the plantation. Now the most troublesome part would begin . . . he would have preferred a male, but he knew doing so would give way to even worse rumors than a female might. Sighing he steadied his resolved to find a female that will be proper, and not bring down his family name any further than it had already fallen.





He would get there early, even before the serfs were lead out. It was the only way to pick the best goods from the market after all. His eyes scanning every serf that passed but not making a move closer to any of them. He instead would conversant with the main seller, looking for skills they already start to possess and which would be easier to train for his needs.





At that he would move to walk down the line looking them over with that stern unfeeling look. He never once touching, never willing too, as if that would be below him. “Show me your teeth?” He spoke in a firm voice. “Turn around.” His ridding crop was in his hand, but he didn’t even use that to study them . . . in truth he just wanted this mess done and over with. He wanted to go home and bury his head into the studies of bettering himself.





 
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