The wealth of the sea at our fingertips.

Eris Eternity · 10-24-2011, 01:10 AM

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hi random monster post; nothing to see here move along. actually the first like five paragraphs here can be skipped. \: nothing happens / no interaction / not important to replying, so yah.

Khirot was petite and seemed weak at first glance; upon closer inspection, the labor-hardened muscle beneath his surprisingly well-kept coat became apparent, and his apparent weakness was betrayed. Better, he was obedient -- marvelously so. Eris initiated Khirot into Salsola, and he had adapted to it quickly. The dark woman needed hardly issue a command and Khirot had completed the request; occasionally, he would anticipate her needs. The Auxiliary had taken to calling him Khi and feeding him choice scraps of her own meals, occasionally making a show of extravagance before other slaves. They would observe obedience's rewards and absorb it better, no doubt.

He followed meekly at her heels now. His ears were half-mast, as they generally were, and his gaze was glued to the earth, lifting only when absolutely necessary. Truthfully, Eris did not need to keep him anymore -- she might release him to Salsola's territory unimpeded. There was a minor need for improvement in Khi's English, however, and Eris also enjoyed his company and subservience. He was almost better than Molcaxitl. Certainly, Axi only held experience over Khi; Eris's personal slave was used to The Auxiliary's method of rule and desires. Given time, however, there Khirot would surpass Molca, too. It was quite the shame Khi's skills were quite so needed by the pack.

The hybrid meandered along the shoreline, enjoying the cool October bite of the wind against her flesh. It cut through even her thick fur, and Khirot shivered beside her, teeth chattering quietly. She paused a moment, looking toward him with a frown. Oh, Khirot, your fur is not made for the cold. You need clothes for this weather, she said, chiding as if Khirot's fur were a choice of his own. There was a playful smile on her face, however, and the slave slowly nodded his acceptance of the idea, as always. There was a restrainted hint of genuine gratefulness in his gaze.

Meetre give Khirot, Khirot forever know Meetre kind, the slave answered. His tone was mechanical, no hint of frustration at the new, strange tongue forced upon him. Eris had commanded him to respond to her every direct comment, question, or order with English so the hybrid might better his communication; this was her only guise of keeping him for any longer amount of time. She cooed her approval of the improving English, and merely grinned, turning back toward the coast and her walk so he would not respond again.

Though the day was breezy, it was certainly not bitterly cold, and Eris thought it was rather mild; Khirot was clearly accustomed far warmer climes. His comfort hardly concerned her, however; there was work to be done. The Auxiliary would provide assistance; there was no sense in her helping to plan or doing heavy labor. She was unsuited for either, but her subleader's position avoided her the luxury of sidestepping duty. For right now, Eris had planned only to scout the coast closest to the Borgata Mayate for suitable dock landing; she had not thought to begin working today.

The Auxiliary, however, soon became aware of a second party on the beach -- a harsh voice she remembered quite well, the unmistakable accent of Liliya Russo, and one she also knew rather well. Concerned, she stepped forward at a faster pace, Khirot keeping right behind her. She whispered for his quiet and the light chatter of his teeth ceased immediately, his footfalls becoming rustling whispers against the grass. She leaned forward and cocked an ear, still creeping forward through the autumn-tall grass, through copses of stunted trees, and between hulking erratics and smaller stones.

The voice displeased her, the tone more so, the words more so than anything. She knew this one well, and loathed her time working with him. The old man did not have much concept of slavery -- he didn't seem to know his place at all, and this displeased the sable Auxiliary mightily. Such displeasure showed openly on her face, the miserable scowl showing fury. My dear Liliya, she said, addressing the ranked member before either of the slaves as she stepped into open view. The expression of her face did not change, but her voice was strangely placid, even as she turned toward Cassius and tilted her head ever so slightly to the right.

Do you like your tongue in your mouth, slave, or would you like to watch it impaled and spit-roasted? I think Khirot would enjoy such a treat if I asked him to, the hybrid said, her voice still mild. Her tail had arced upward angrily, however, and hackles had risen along her shoulders and spine. Her normally wild hair had been lashed by the wind in every direction on her trek here; even now it was subject to the whim of the breeze. You know to offer help, but you forget -- we don't need you to be able to speak. You belong to Salsola, she added unhappily, deciding the threat would be enough; the best way to deal with slaves was to make such threats and immediately thereafter show only passive indifference to the slave, the threat, and the whole matter.

Khirot still stood meekly by, several steps behind the sable Auxiliary. He watched with curious, entirely indifferent eyes, though they flicked downward as the Eris spoke again. I offer my apology for his manner. He still requires instruction, she said, now clearly addressing the ranked member. It would be within The Associate's right to request punishment, Eris figured, but perhaps a leader's apology might do as well. What were you hoping to accomplish here? she asked, motioning to the pile of wood with one hand before propping her elbow up with the other, rubbing her fingers against her chin. She did not know the first thing about dock-building or any of what they wanted to accomplish; it would be the will and knowledge of her underlings that accomplished this task.

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