Thread: M a r k e d (Domovoi + MRAZ)

The room was simple. Plain. Very fitting for a slave, she thought, someone who was to give mind and body to a human that cared nothing for them beyond their capability to fight. It took a moment for her fuzzy brain to even register where she was and why. Something about the peace of slumber could clear away the heaviness of bad thoughts, surely the origin of the phrase 'everything will look better in the morning'. It didn't change anything, though. Nothing looked better. Her arm hurt and she had become a toy. She wondered if she'd be put down like a dog when it was realized that she knew nothing of physical combat - and really didn't want to have to bring harm to another person, anyway. The man approaching looked bored, she guessed by his words that he'd tired of having to tend his slave when he'd prefer to work her to the bone in training. His touch was gentle, but unwelcome, Rina reflexively pulling away in unison with him removing his hand. Everything was still processing in the young blonde's mind, and the vast amount of new information was a hefty weight to bear on a fever-addled brain. Her name? She liked her name, but... But it was just a reminder of her family. Her mother loved the name, too - loved it so much she sold her like a damn merchant sells his wares. Her mother... Her mother... Her mother did this to her! Her father, too! She loved them, she gave them so much, and for what? This?! Pain and torment, stripped of her name and her rights and to be used as a weapon? To die like a pawn in the arena? What had she done to deserve any of this?! Eyes beginning to overflow with tears, the mentally and still quite physically exhausted girl broke down into sobs. She wasn't wailing, but her knees slowly sliding up to her chest, her face hiding between them, gave up that she was breaking apart. ---- Liza was already fond of this one polite, mannerly, and with an odd habit of growling that reminded her of a bear cub trying to be tough. The crowds would eat it up. Kei, huh, She remarked softly, looking her over. Her green eyes stared softly at the girl in a side glance as she led her forward, no longer using her collar to encourage her to move. The information Kei gave was brief, but let her know a lot the girl had been training for a while, meaning she already had a foundation of experience. That was good for her, minimizing expenses required for training her. It could be expensive to train a fighter who hadn't used their powers for anything but a bit of casual fun. The girl's hair color was interesting Liza idly ran a hand through it, enjoying its feathery nature and soft color. Obviously the teen was too young for such a shade, but it made her look different and stand out. The eenie meenie game hadn't done much - she'd been set on this one from the get-go, just for that mop of white plopped on her head. Liza! A voice shouted, pronouncing her name with a long 'I'. A long-nosed man approaching with haste and adjusting his glasses repeatedly all the while. I'm still waiting on the paperwork to register your last find for the fight in a few days, He crossed his arms, one hand holding a clipboard, and frowned at her. If you don't put it in today, it'll be too late! The tall woman let out a long sigh. Ugh. Paperwork. The truest cuss word. You'll have it. I need you to send me papers to register a new pet, though, She gestured to Kei, and the man's face deepened into what looked like an impossibly sharp frown. If a human could explode from frustration, he'd certainly pop like a pimple. Without another word, he stormed off - presumably before he could start shouting things he'd either regret or get fired for. Or both. She couldn't help but chuckle. The high-stress man had a stick so far up his ass it was a wonder he could walk, the exact opposite of her no-fucks-given attitude. Oh, that's right... Her attention returned to Kei. Since I don't have the papers to register you just yet, you'll have to stay with me for tonight. Maybe a couple days. Or more, She shrugged. You know, however long it takes me to get your information in place. They exited through the slave district gates, the guards not paying much attention to the unbranded girl, despite the collar around her neck. Up a small flight of stairs was a plain white door, marked with the number '207' beyond it was a plain one bedroom apartment hardly fitting for the owner of multiple fighters. Still, the immaculate place, with its postmodern decor and large windows, was hers for now. The kitchen was pure stainless steel, appliances and countertops. A black and white leather sectional couch was the centerpiece for the living room, the furniture themed in that it was made of mostly glass. Take a seat, if you like, She gestured to the sofa. Make yourself at home. The bedroom was plush and also had a monochrome color scheme, a glass desk with scattered papers standing prominently in the corner due to the lack of furniture all of her clothing was in the ample closet. It didn't help that it was the only part of her home that didn't appear to be very neatly organized - and then you could look in her closet and see she had little respect for the rumpled piles of shirts and bottoms, or the bras tossed in the corner.