Pannic and Dragon

"Be thankful, kid." the demon said. He was in charge of selling the new slaves, those who had been imprisoned and weren't able to pay certain fines. Rather than lock them up, better to sell them off, they figured. He took the form of a somewhat seedy-looking individual with a sly glint in his eye. Vampires didn't much mind him much heed, they were only concerned about the merchandise, so his form was small in stature, and he simply stood to the side and provided information.

The demon was addressing a young man, appeared to be in his teens. He was in slightly better shape than some of the other slaves. He stood out slightly. He was a little on the tall side at six feet, with jet-black hair and vivid blue eyes. "Your talent might just save your life. Some just come in here looking for someone they can keep around for a snack. However, for you I will be kind enough to point out your other merits. Here." He said, handing him some sheet music. "Sing this if anyone asks." He said. The boy looked down at the piece. "Ooh! I like this one."

"Good. Now shut up." the demon said. "Siddown over there," he said, pointing to an empty spot on the block. The various humans were spaced a fair distance apart. There weren't alot of them - these were the state-sold ones, the people arrested. Not the general trade. As a result, there was a slightly smaller selection.

Two individuals entered the low-lit, dingy slave market. They would have stood out, even if vampires and demons alike did not part considerably, giving both extra space to pass. The first was a tall man who looked to be in his late twenties. His brilliant blond hair was tied behind him in a regal bow, and he wore the attire of a noble, a noble of the 18th century. His face was pale but unbelievably beautiful. Too beautiful.

Vampire.

A name was whispered amongst the crowd.

Lord Kristof.

He smiled with perfectly white teeth, his fangs glittering as he swung his cane melodramatically at his right side. It was his left side, however, that was drawing the most attention. A slender female human walked beside him. Not more than 19, she too was adorned in the attire of an 18th noble, corset, ball gown, decorative fan, jewels and all. Her hair was a stunning crimson red, and some of the thick curls escaped the regal twist it was held up by on top of her head. Her eyes were her most striking feature. Black. Black as coal, hard as flint, sharp as a knife's blade. Surprisingly, her skin was almost as pale as her vampire, but if one looked further, the cause would be seen all too easily. Puncture marks marred her porcelain, soft skin.

Blood doll.

She was a rarity. Only the highest vampires were allowed to keep blood dolls as companions. They no longer had sympathy for the human life they had left behind, and thus were able to follow the only rule of owning a blood doll without trouble. No blood doll was ever to be turned. They were used for entertainment, companionship, blood, and sex. When the vampire grew tired of his blood doll, or the doll became too old, they were killed.

"I shall never comprehend why they insist on keeping these markets like pits for swine. It is an abomination," the female said. She wrinkled her small nose, and held her fan in front of her face, covering all but her eyes as if it would repel the stench. Her vampire master lifted his head and laughed heartily, pulling her arm closer to him.

"Ah, my dear sweet lady, I did suggest you remain at home. I too detest this place, and to see your exquisite beauty against such depravity only makes it all the more unbearable," he chided in a tone of regret. Obsidian black eyes flashed, and a wry smile tugged at the pale lips.

"The last servant you brought home, mi' lord, was a complete incompetent and I have sworn you shall never attend here again without proper supervision," she chided back. She snapped her fan together and swatted him playfully on the wrist with it. He laughed again, and nodded.

"Yes, I am defeated. Very well, my love. You shall have your pick of this bunch. Any that catches the twinkle of your marvelous eyes?" he asked sweetly. Her eyes left her vampire master for the first time and she looked up, examining the line of human slaves. Her heavy heels clicked loudly, though she was a slender thing, against the concrete. She surveyed the slaves without emotion. Her face was so stoic, if she had not been moving and if her eyes had not been so quickly moving about, she would have seemed a lifeless corpse. She pointed her fan at a tall boy with black hair and blue eyes.

"You, there. Stand up. What is it you're holding?" she asked. Her voice was sharp, not at all how she had spoken to the vampire who's arm she still held. It was a command, and she obviously expected to be obeyed without question. Kristof approached, his blue eyes glittering in amusement.

Pernas' face shot up, looking at the woman addressing him. She seemed like a human, but her skin seemed painful. He looked at the man accompanying him. A vampire. And by the looks of it, the two were very rich. His heart beat painfully in his chest. The ordeal made him nervous.

He didn't ask for this situation. All he did was wander into town and start singing. Then he was beaten and dragged into prison. Then he was given a hearing and they asked for a fine. A fine? He didn't have any money. So now he was going to be sold. If he couldn't pay them, then they'd get the money from him by selling him.

"Music, madame." he said, his voice almost choking. "Sheet music. Madamina, il catlogo e questo." he said, glancing down at the page. He knew the piece. One of the most famous bass arias ever written.

Were these two potential buyers? What if they bought him? They seemed rich. Would they treat him well? Well, the woman seemed rather abrasive, and the two just made him uncomfortable. He got a glance from the demon, and it's like he remembered a speech he was supposed to give. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "I can sing." he said.

"That's what the kid was arrested for." the demon said. "Apparently he's something of an artist."

The woman had opened her mouth to reply to the boy, but as soon as her vampire master opened his, she shut her own with a pleasant smile.

"An artist? Aha! Perfect! Sing, boyl sing! Lady Bridgette and I adore this piece," he said lightheartedly. Suddenly, his face seemed to darken visibly.

"I warn you though, boy, miss a note and damage mi' lady's delicate ears and it will be the last crime you shall commit!" he said. His voice was sinister, and it was no idle threat. Bridgette, as she was apparently called, smiled bitterly.

"Sing," she commanded again. She arched one perfect eyebrow, and waited, tapping her foot rather loudly.

ooc:// Poor dear...-pets Pernas-

Pernas gulped.

"Well, boy?" the demon said. "You heard the gentleman and his lady. Sing."

Pernas cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and then sang, in a bass voice of surprising operatic quality for someone who looked that young.

'Madamina, il catalogo è questo
Delle belle che amò il padron mio;
un catalogo egli è che ho fatt'io;
Osservate, leggete con me.

In Italia seicento e quaranta;
In Alemagna duecento e trentuna;
Cento in Francia, in Turchia novantuna;
Ma in Ispagna son già mille e tre.

V'han fra queste contadine,
Cameriere, cittadine,
V'han contesse, baronesse,
Marchesine, principesse.
E v'han donne d'ogni grado,
D'ogni forma, d'ogni età.

Nella bionda egli ha l'usanza
Di lodar la gentilezza,
Nella bruna la costanza,
Nella bianca la dolcezza.

Vuol d'inverno la grassotta,
Vuol d'estate la magrotta;
È la grande maestosa,
La piccina è ognor vezzosa.

Delle vecchie fa conquista
Pel piacer di porle in lista;
Sua passion predominante
È la giovin principiante.

Non si picca — se sia ricca,
Se sia brutta, se sia bella;
Purché porti la gonnella,
Voi sapete quel che fa.'

"That's enough," the demon said. Pernas stopped, his head low, nervous. He didn't want to die. The demon didn't care, though. If they wanted to kill him, they could do so as long as they paid.

Kristof was smiling brightly. That was at least a good sign. Now for Bridgette...

This wasn't good.

Her face wasn't stoic. Her mouth was twisted in displeasure, and Kristof's blond eyebrows rose.

"Darling?" he asked.

"He was a bit sharp on the second stanza," she replied sharply. The vampire laughed, which caused the demon to turn back at Pernas with a sickening growl.

"Now I'll have to clean up the mess you leave!" he snarled. He lifted his taloned hand to strike the boy, but a pale hand stopped him effortlessly. The vampire had stepped between them before either could blink.

"We'll take him. Mi' lady fancies him," he said politely. The demon put his hand down, looking stunned.

"Only $50 for him though; he's useless outside his...artistic value," he said. The demon smiled, but shook his head.

"Come on now, Lord Kristof. He may be a bit puny, but he's a pretty little thing. And you heard him. I think he may even have other artistic abilities. I want $150 for, no less," he said. Kristof smiled wryly, and looked Pernas over.

"I'd barely be able to nip him and he'd faint from it! I'll give you $80," he said. The demon nodded, and Kristof handed over the cash.

"Come, boy," he said, leaping off the platform as agilely as a cat. He took Bridgette's arm in his, and started to walk out of the marketplace.

Pernas didn't hesitate a moment. He just up and walked off with them, staying behind them and not saying a word.

So they liked him. Okay. So maybe they wouldn't kill him. But the woman... she didn't seem very kind to him. He had a funny feeling he'd be in for some bad times.

He looked at them. Very rich. Upper-class. And they looked like something from a Gilbert & Sullivan operetta, except nowhere near as warm and cheerful. He kept his head low. He didn't want to look at the rest of the marketplace. It scared him, and he was very thankful that the two had no interest in purchasing anything else.

They scared him. This... Lord Kristof was the sort of person who would cut your head off with a smile... slightly deranged. The lady just seemed to be ice incarnate. But in any case, it didn't look like they would kill him. Still, best not to push his luck. He just followed them quietly, his hands turning over the pages of the aria, to keep them occupied.

"Isn't the night sky beautiful, mi' lady?" Kristof asked. Obsidian eyes flashed to the velvet navy sky dotted with diamond-shimmering stars.

"Paralleled by nothing, my love," she said. Her voice was sweet now, gentle. And her smile warm. She leaned in and kissed the vampire on the cheek. He smiled wider, and ran a hand down the bare skin of her back, finally resting it around her tiny waist.

"Paralleled by nothing, my pet, but surpassed greatly by your own," he sighed. She giggled. It was a strange sound coming from her. Not because it sounded false. In fact, it sounded genuine. That was what made it strange. She giggled as if she truly were a noble lady from another era, giggling as she was wooed by a courter. She was a master of her trade, a perfect actress. Pernas could only wonder what really lay beneath her impenetrable mask. Her giggle twittered away into silence, and the rustling of paper seemed to catch her attention. She turned her head sharply, her face again contorted in sudden distaste.

"Stop that. I presume you have a name, little human swine?" she asked. Her nose lifted slightly as she spoke. Her vanity was certainly not a mask, and she waved her decorative, jeweled fan again flippantly.

Pernas head shot up again, and he just stuffed the music in his pocket. "Pernas..." he said quietly. "Mi'lady." he said after a short pause, thinking it'd be best to add the polite title.

Well, these two were weird. He felt a slight tinge of resentment at the derision. Calling him a "human swine." She was a human too, wasn't she? And she didn't seem much older than he was. And she acted like times were a hundred years ago or something.

But he didn't dwell on that. What if these people could read minds?

Well, if they could, they'd find reading his was like rapidly switching channels... though it was doubtful that these people had television. Now it had switched to the song he had been singing when he got arrested - "The Vagabond." Well, seeing as he was now indentured indefinitely, that song would be very ill-fitting.

"Pernas?" she snorted, "What a ridiculous name!". Kristof laughed along with his blood doll mistress, but did not comment further. Bridgette was apparently satisfied with her interaction with the boy, and the three walked in silence until they reached the largest penthouse is the city. Kristof stopped at the doorstep.

"Well, my love, the coven requires my presence. I shall return tonight, and I trust you will be ready and awaiting me?" he whispered. It was not a question. She smiled, and color blushed her pale cheeks.

"Of course, my dearest. The red?" she asked, giggling that innocent laugh again. He smiled, and nodded. His pale blue eyes glanced at Pernas momentarily.

"Show him around too, if you would. I shall see you later tonight," he said. He was gone without another word, and just as quickly as he had appeared on the platform before Pernas. The effect on Bridgette was just as sudden, but perhaps more stunning. Her face fell back into the stoic appearance of a lifeless corpse and she walked up the stairs without any of the grace of a noble lady. She swung open the door, and kicked off her high heels. Cringing, she reached up and undid her hair. The crimson curls fell about her pale, tear-shaped face, and she sighed, leaning against the door frame.

"Well, come in already. I'd like to get some rest before he comes back," she said. Her voice wasn't as sharp as before, though there was no hint of gentleness in it either. Obsidian eyes no longer sparkled, but were dull. Black, lifeless holes stared at Pernas. She looked more like a corpse than ever. A beautiful corpse, of course, but still a corpse.

Pernas didn't like the look of those eyes. Dead eyes, like something at a wax museum. But she seemed... different. Not as harsh... more blunt than sharp, if that makes any sense. Which it probably doesn't. Come to think of it, "blunt" isn't a very good word. Maybe "dull" would be better, but it's just such a boring word.

Of course, he didn't need to be told twice about anything. Give him a week or two at this place and he'd become duller (eh. can't avoid that word every time) as he settled in. He was just completely on his toes now.

He walked fairly slowly, looking around. A mansion. Duh. But it was unsettling. You know that if a haunted mansion shows up in a horror film, you aren't scared, because it's a cliche that's been done to death.

But you know that if it was for reals, it wouldn't be boring.

"Yes, mi'lady." Pernas said quietly. Interesting to contrast that booming bass voice he had earlier to how he was acting now. Timid as a lamb, he was.

She sighed, and rolled her eyes, leading him to the kitchen.

"My name's Bridgette," she snapped irritably. It was only now that Pernas noticed the dark rings under her eyes. She opened the fridge and took out a bottle filled with a thick, orange, pasty liquid. She downed it in under a minute, but she sputtered after the last gulp, contorting in disgust. She collapsed weakly on a bar stool, and motioned for Pernas to sit next to her.

"Just call me Bridgette when it's just us. When Kristof's around, call me whatever he's calling me. Mi lady, B, Princess, Miss. Bridgette, or whatever he's asked me to pretend to be," she instructed. She stared in front of her as she spoke, staring into nothing. She was nothing.

"Our bedroom is on the third floor. Do not ever come up there. The private rooms, which you are allowed in if permitted are on the second floor. You will stay in the bedroom on the first floor, just down the hall. The kitchen, and other rooms here are for you to come and go. You'll probably be ordered to sing regularly, either solo or duet with me. Can you do anything else?" she asked. She looked at Pernas for the first time since they had walked in. She no longer looked 19, at least, not her face. Not her eyes. She seemed old, weary, wasted away.

"Understood, Bridgette" he said, cautiously sitting next to her. "I can also paint, and sometimes I write music. But mainly, I'm a performer. I sing, play the piano and the violin. I've also been told I'm a good actor."

Considering she wasn't being so abrasive, he managed to relax a little. So he manged to discern that the source of everything he didn't like mainly lay in the vampire. You can always trust the human.

"I think I understand." he said. "I-I'm sorry. I'm just not very smart."

Bridgette nodded as he listed his skills. She threw her crimson curls behind her small shoulders, and crossed her arms, laying her head down on the counter.

"That's good. You should last at least a couple months. Just follow my lead, and maybe you'll last longer," she sighed, closing her eyes. She was perfectly still, looking more like a corpse. Pernas' clumsy apology made her stir, snorting slightly in laughter.

"You're smarter than most the human slaves. They're afraid of death, and Kristof gets sick of it, so he kills them. Just act the part. You'll be fine," she assured him. She inhaled deeply as though trying to call the last reserve of her strength, and stood up.

"Come on; I'll show you to your room," she whispered quietly. She lead him down the hall to a room, and flipped a light switch. The room was enormous, furnished beautifully, and had it's own elaborate, private bath. Bridgette's obsidian eyes barely glanced over the room. It wasn't the first time she'd shown a slave to his quarters, however nice they were.

"I'm going upstairs to try and get some sleep before he gets back. I'll see you in the morning. Remember not to come up to the third floor, no matter what you hear," she instructed. She raised both eyebrows at him with the inflection of her voice, but they dropped soon. All of her seemed weary.

ooc:// And I am weary. I will wait to read your post, but then I must retire! Good start, though. I am loving it. Pernas is such a dear.

"I'll last..." Pernas muttered to himself, following her. He'd outlasted alot of things in his travels, and he didn't intend on being offed at the whim of some psychotic vampire.

Besides, his luck was never that unkind to him. Sure, he always got into trouble, but he somehow managed to stumble out of it, even if through all logical progression, he shouldn't. It was as though God made a special exception for him to not die. One time he was about to be killed by a demon, and then a bolt of lightning killed his attacker. Another time, he was in a prison, and the guard somehow passed out, leaving his keys within reach.

When she showed him his room, his eyes widened, and he just stood there.

Wow. Slave quarters? Better than anything he'd ever had before. He'd been a vagabond, staying at cheap inns. Here, you had a room that was fancy, with its own bath, even.

"Understood, Bridgette. I stay here, I don't go up to the third floor ever. Got it." he said, snapping out of his daze. He looked at her. "See you tomorrow." he added at the end.

Something shocking appeared on her face. A smile. True, it was weary and faint, but it was there. Even the obsidian eyes sparkled slightly. Only now did he notice that she truly was beautiful. She needed rest, but she was beautiful.

"You'll be fine, Pernas. I'll come get you in the morning and show you around more freely. You'll like the arts room. Mirrors, instruments, love seats, and lots of windows. It really is magnificent. The library isn't bad either. Night," she said. She leaned down to pick up her heavy Victorian era heels and climbed up the stairs slowly.

ooc:// Just post once more, and I'll add the next scene in the morning. Feel free to have Pernas dealing with sleeping trouble. Kristof gets noisy. Poor Bridgette.....Ick!

Well, Pernas didn't think there'd be any problems. He just jumped onto the bed. Big and comfy. Better than anything he'd ever slept in before, being a vagabond with very little money. Heck, were it not for the fact that he now had to work for a scary blood-sucking fiend, he could see himself having a nice time here.

Though it got quite creepy at night. Alot of strange noises from above. Alot of bumps and other things.

No, he had no idea what was going on. It kinda creeped him out though. He was under no condition to go up and investigate. Didn't need to be told twice. Might not've even needed a first time. But ahh well. He managed to get to sleep under other bizarre noising circumstances.

A rather loud and unpleasant knock sounded on Pernas' door. Before he had time to open it, the door swung open, hitting the far wall with a resounding 'bang.' It was Bridgette, though apparently she was going by another name today. Leather, knee-high black high-heeled boots, fishnets, tight, black, leather miniskirt, corset, strapless top, and a black, spiked dog collar were what the crimson haired beauty wore today. By her acting, Kristof must be nearby.

"Get up already, you lazy s.o.b.," she snapped. She looked worse this morning. She had fresh puncture marks on her neck and arms, and her skin was a pasty white. She looked like she could barely stand, though she was having little trouble cocking her sensual hips and crossing her arms in front of her.

"You're late for breakfast. It's F.Y.O. Fix your own; got it?" she sneered. She wheeled around on her heels and walked back to the kitchen. Kristof was seated wearing black leather pants, and a tight black t-shirt.

"How's the runt, Bridge?" he asked. Bridgette, or Bridge this morning, crossed the room and kissed Kristof on the mouth passionately. She pulled away, trailing a fingertip teasingly along his jaw line.


"He's coming," she replied, plopping down on his lap, one leg over the other to show off more skin. Kristof's icy blue eyes alighted on Pernas immediately.

"Everything in the kitchen is your's for the taking," he said. He chuckled, feeling up Bridge's leg, "Except for this,". He then proceeded to make out with Bridge, ignoring the boy's presence.

ooc:// I keep feeling worse for Pernas...gotta go to a movie night with the fam. Be back later!

"Whu...?" Pernas groaned lazily as he opened his eyes. He saw Bridgette.

What a weird outfit... he thought.

And judging by her attitude, Kristof was nearby.

Luckily, Pernas had fallen asleep in what he was already wearing, so it didn't take him long to get ready. Just took him awhile to get out of bed. He walked sluggishly into the kitchen, where he was obviously supposed to go.

He looked at Kristof. He opened his mouth to say something, probably a "thank you" towards the "help yourself" offer, but he closed his mouth when they started making out.

It was highly awkward and made him very uncomfortable.

He simply turned away from them and walked over to the pantry.

Holy crap, that's a big pantry. There was alot of stuff in there. Well, the vampire did tell him to help himself, but he felt like he'd just play it safe and touch as little as possible. He didn't know how to work the stove, anyway. Eh, he'd work that out later.

So he just took some break and cheese and sat at the table, far as he could from the... couple...

He wondered where the other servants were, and then decided they had already finished, as he was apparently late.

A sharp ring interrupted the sounds of tongue on tongue, thankfully.

"Aw, baby, again? Can't they scratch their own asses without you?" Bridgette whined. Kristof laughed, and kissed her once more, but rose.

"No, you know they're all incompetent morons," he retorted. She sighed overdramatically, and slide out of his lap with the same lack of grace she'd slide into it. She was certainly a different actress today. Kristof made his way towards the door, ruffling Pernas' black hair in an affectionate manner as he passed.

"Show the kid around, Bridge. We'll have some fun when I get back," he cried over his shoulder. Bridgette smiled, until he closed the door. Then her knees buckled, and she hit the floor, hard. Her breath came in short, rasping gasps and she trembled violently. She obviously did not have the strength to rise.

Pernas lowered his head as the vampire rubbed his hair, as a reflex. He certainly didn't see that coming. He started to get the feeling that trying to be relatively unnoticed wouldn't be a very successful endeavor. He decided that in the future he'd try not to flinch, remembering what Bridgette said about how Kristof would kill people who seemed to scared of him. And then...

Pernas jumped out of his seat, and rushed over to her, dumbfounded. "Are you okay?" he asked. It was jarring. She acted like a vampire one instant, and the next she was down on the floor. He knelt down next to her.

"Do... Do you need help?" he asked nervously.

She tried to wave him away, but it looked more like flailing. She was weazing now, barely able to use her lungs at all.

"The orange...the orange drink...pour me....a glass," she managed to whisper. She collapsed further. She was now on her hands and knees. Sweat dripped from her face and neck, splattering the white marble. She groaned and laid down on the floor. The cold stone felt good against her flaming skin.

ooc:// Ew, that was short, sorry. Anyway, she's in no position to drink. Pernas will have to at least put her head in his lap. Sweet lad that he is...

"...Orange...?" Pernas asked. "oh. ORANGE!" he said, bolting up and grabbing everything that even remotely resembled a bottle. "Orange... orange... orange... Lemon curry? No! Orange... orange... ah! Orange!" he said, finding the right bottle. He scrumbled again, looking for a glass. He found one that was fairly empty and filled it with the orange stuff.

"Alright, here we are..." he said, kneeling down, holding out the glass. Nothing happened. "oh!" he said, putting his hand under her head and lifting it. "here..." he said, putting the glass to her lips. He looked up towards the door, hoping that Kristof didn't walk in... maybe in this situation touching wasn't off-limits.

A sudden burst of energy shot through the girl at the sight of the glass, and she gripped it, downing the thick, pungent liquid in seconds. After she was through, her head dropped and her eyes closed. She was so still, she looked as if she had fallen asleep, or perhaps died on Pernas' lap. But after a few minutes, her long red-tipped eyelashes fluttered open, and she righted herself, more or less without too much difficulty. Whatever was in that orange paste was powerful.

"Thanks," she said. Once again, a weak, crooked smile twisted at her pale lips. She opened her mouth, as if to explain but closed it. Her obsidian eyes darkened considerably with whatever she was thinking.

"Come on. I need to show you around," she said softly. Her voice held none of the harsh, flippant tone it had this morning. It was dead again, lifeless. Her walk was slow now, none of the confidence of this morning. She certainly was a mystery, but her attitude was not sharp, nor domineering. If he couldn't speak in Kristof's presence, he could certainly speak in her's.

Pernas was quiet. There she was, on his lap. He looked at the door again, hoping Kristof didn't enter. It was extremely awkward. Then she came too again and got up, to Pernas' slight startleness. What, that isn't even a word. Oh well. Neither was "scrumbled."

Pernas stayed in his kneeling position for a minute. He looked at the bottle. Then he looked into the bottle. Then he smelled it.

"Huh..." he muttered.

Then he remembered that Bridgette had asked him to get up. And he got up very quickly. "Right." he said. Well, now for the grand tour.

He was... worried about her. She was like an old... thing, that had been patched together again and again, but looked like it would soon fall apart. Like a drug addict.