Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen, to the world of Alternia. A sad world, filled with violence and bloodshed. Where, in fact, blood is all that matters. Where dark carnivals are open at the high rise of the moon. Where you can be taken from your hive into a terrible dark world of slavery at any moment. Where slaves are selected from the masses of lowbloods in which the highbloods rule. These slaves, Sollux Captor, Aradia Megido, and Tavros Nitram all have to fight, and sometimes kill for survival. Hopefully, they can survive until freedom is won. But not before blood is shed.
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==> You are the Prince of the High Subjugglators. Your ancestor, the King of the Subjugglators, has requested you see him today. He is called the Grand Highblood in your kingdom, and that is how you have referred to him your whole life. You will most likely refer to him until he dies, before you become the next Grand Highblood after him.
You walk the hallways of the castle to his respiteblock, which is at the top of all these stairs. You’ve been warned not to fall down these stairs.
You open the door to it carefully, looking in. One of his slaves, one you’ve gotten to know simply as Aradia, hurries out of the room, nodding at you slightly as you pass. You scowl at her; she’s a disgusting rust blood and has no right to make any gestures at you.
The Grand Highblood stands, awaiting you.
“hello, young descendant.
WHAT THE FUCK TOOK YOU SO LONG?”
==> You hold your head down, you know you were perfectly on time, but disagreeing with your ancestor got you lashings in the past. You did not wish to have them again.
“i’m motherfuckin sorry.
YOUR RUSTBLOOD GOT IN MY WAY.”
==> Might as well blame Aradia.
“i’m sure she did.
I WILL HAVE HER PUNISHED IN THE MORNING.
but on that subject, gamzee.”
==> You lift your head to look at him, on the subject of rustbloods or punishing? You hope it is the first.
“you have reached a prime maturing state as a young subjugglator.
IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO GET YOUR OWN SLAVE, TO SERVE AND LIVE UNDER YOU.
for you to motherfuckin teach it where it belongs.
SO I HAVE GOTTEN ONE FOR YOU.”
==> You raise your eyebrows, you had not expected this. A slave? Did you want a slave? You didn’t particularly like the idea of a rust helping you, even if it was forced to. The Grand Highblood gestures towards a young troll, who is currently chained to the wall.
“his name doesn’t fuckin matter.
UNLESS YOU WANT IT TO.”
==> You nod.
“i’d rather have a motherfuckin name.”
==> He kicks the troll.
“INTRODUCE YOURSELF, PEASANT.
As the conversing goes on, you keep your head down. He was scared, and shaking. You wanted to go back to your hive. But, you couldn’t. As soon as the Highbloods came for you, you were doomed from the start. You bit your lip.
Such hatred rang from their voices. Punishment? Enslavement? God, you had to spend the rest of your life like this didn’t you? No, wait you had to fight. You had to. Like the Summoner… Wait…He was gone wasn’t he? He left you here, all by yourself, to fend for yourself.
He said you needed to grow up. You needed be strong on your own. That’s hard to do with such a terrible limp.
You yelp as the Highblood kicks you, lowering your head like a beaten puppy. Your cow-like ears twitch, and you look up a little bit at the two of them. Indigo eyes seemed to blaze with hate. Where you were from; this was the color of death.
You lick your ever so dry lips, then, slowly open your mouth to speak. The Subjugglator language was a bit hard to understand from your own native one. But you still understood once you stopped to think about what they were saying.
“m-mI NOM— i-i„, i MEAN„, m-mY N-NAME IS„,t-tAVROS H-HIGHBLOOD SIR„,” You almost slipped up there for a second.
==> You scoff at him, leaning down to his level and looking him in the eyes, glare hard and piercing. You heard him mutter in his rust words and it made you want to beat him. You probably could, now that you think about it.
“we’re going to get rid of that fuckin accent. MAKE YOU FORGET THAT SHITTY LOWBLOOD LANGUAGE.”
==> You grab his chin, moving it up and inspecting him as if he’s a new woofbeast. Then you grab his lips and open them with your fingers, looking at his teeth.
==> You let go of them and look at his horns. They’re disgusting and huge, spouting out horizontally. Horns aren’t meant to do that.
“BUT NOT GOOD EITHER.”
==> You kick him, too, following your ancestor.
You tremble. Not a normal tremble, one meant to be hidden but had escaped. You nodded when he commanded you to forget your language. Even though…You knew deep down you would never forget it. Nor would you forget your slain lusus.
You shudder as you remember one of the soldiers ripping his wings and his horns off. The thought brought tears to your eyes. Oh God, no. No crying now. You almost flinch when he grabs your chin, but you keep what little bit of calm you have.
You let him inspect you, for if you weren’t found fit, they would kill you on the spot. You had to pass this test, which would be simple for you because you are fairly healthy. He insults your horns, the words hurt more than the kick delivered to your side. You mutter “i’M SORRY,” under your breath, even though you knew that wasn’t your fault.
==> You nod, going to the chains behind the rust blood. Tavros? Was that what he said his name was? You look at the chains. You know how to get them off, of course. You’ve given slaves to other brothers as they reached their maturing age. As soon as the chains come off, they normally run. And they normally die.
“motherfucker, if you want to keep your life, you’re going to fuckin stay here when these come off.”
==> You grab his wrist, digging your claw into it lightly just to assure this fact, before taking that cuff off of it. You do the same to the other hand. Then you sit down in front of him, taking them off of his ankles. You don’t expect him to run, he seems pretty terrified.
It kind of interests you.
A lot of rusts are fighters at this stage, crying, screaming, begging to just be let go, telling you they’ll fucking kill you if they ever get out. This one seems submissive and calm. It’s obviously a facade, he’s not calm. He’s freaking out on the inside, as a Subjugglator you must pick up on these feelings. It’s interesting to see, nonetheless.
He isn’t freaking out to save his own life, hopefully soon he won’t freak out for the intent of pleasing you.
You knew very well running wouldn’t be wise, as much as you want to. Plus, your limp is so bad…They would catch you with ease. You took deep breathes, trying to calm yourself .But they came out as shudders and trembles.
You nod at his words, trying to show your worth as a good listener now. They would be more likely to keep you around if you are. You know from the Summoner telling you this. Forever grateful for his teachings…You remember that one very unpleasant part of the beginning of this terrible ordeal you call slavery…
Branding. You gulp. God, that was going to burn. And it was going to hurt for a long while. As soon as you’re free, you try your best not to lean or stumble on him, to keep your balance. You clear your throat, and look at him with a false sense of eagerness.
Waiting for orders.
“I’M LEAVING, MOTHERFUCKER.”
==> The Grand Highblood nods, not saying anything, and you grab Tavros’s wrist, pulling him out of the room. There is silence as you shut the door behind you.
“motherfuckin meetings with him have to be so short and to the point all the time.”
==> This is when you notice his limp. It’s holding him back slightly. You glare at his legs.
“DID THEY GIVE ME A MOTHERFUCKING DEFECTIVE RUST?” You hiss out, pushing Tavros against the wall and examining him again. “do i need to take you back to the nice subjugglators? TELL THEM THEY FUCKED UP WITH THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD’S ORDERS? or did he like you despite your motherfuckin fuck ups, pinche idiota?”
==> You use his language, in a harsh snarl.
“n-nO„, n-nO„,i-i„,m-mI„, i MEAN„,” You stutter like an idiot.
If you survived today, just today…Your chances of becoming free many years from now will grow. You just needed to make it through this. You lick your lips, and look down at your leg. It was like that because once you had fallen and broken it. It never healed right.
You couldn’t look the Highblood in the eye, and you began to tear up. God, you really needed to grow up. To fight like a young rebel rust blood should…But, Summoner told you there was a time for fighting and a time for being wise. This was one of those times.
“i-i AM„,t-tHE SUMMONER’S DESCENDANT SIR„,” You say.
That was all your worth, right there.
==> Your eyebrows raise. You try to remember who the Summoner is, and then it all fits together. The horns and his shade of rust seemed so… Familiar. It figures. You laugh, laugh, laugh. You laugh until you can’t laugh anymore.
“the motherfucker who ran a rebellion against the highbloods.” You nod, gripping his nose ring between your fingers. “HOW’D THAT REALLY WORK OUT, HUH?”
==> You pull him close to your face.
“now the descendant of his motherfuckin bad self is my slave. THE SLAVE OF THE DESCENDANT OF THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD. yes, motherfucker. that guy, that creepy ass man in there who everyone bows to, even motherfuckin me. HE’S MY ANCESTOR.”
==> Your eyes lock with his again, you know this freaks people out.
“so don’t fuck up. :o)”
You bite at your lip again when he tugs on your nose ring. God, that hurt. You move every time he makes you. Be obedient, be patient. You just looked into his eyes. That color of death.
El indigo demonio.
You look down again. You could have guessed as much. They seemed very similar. You don’t say a word. You didn’t know if he even wanted you to say a thing, for if your tongue slipped, your life would soon follow.
You nod as he tells you not to mess up, your expression a pleading one. You didn’t like having your ring tugged on, nor did you like being against this wall. But you kept your head down, because as of now, he was above you.
==> You nod as he bows his head to you. He is a good slave.
==> You lead him down the stairs carefully. Don’t want to break your, limping, new slave on the first day. You have to see if he is capable of being yours. The first step to this is branding. You are going to brand him with your symbol, your own. You have a unique symbol that is only yours, so if he gets lost… Or runs… They can return him.
As you two reach your respiteblock, you shove him in.
“YOU KNOW WHAT I MOTHERFUCKING HAVE TO DO NOW, RIGHT?”
==> You make sure to shut the door behind you, and lock it. You walk over to your fire place and pick up the unused iron in the corner of your room. You were given this when you were very young, for this very moment.
You follow him, careful of the stairs. You too were warned of them. You walk behind him, keeping your head down. When you’re shoved into the room, you gasp softly, looking to the corner where the fireplace was.
The iron looked terrifying to you. You listen carefully, your ears twitching. This leads the rings on them to jingle softly, and you nod your head. You understood. You had to make it through this…
Just make it through this.
“i-i UNDERSTAND„,h-hIGHBLOOD SIR„,”
==> You put the iron into the fire, letting it heat up, then sit on the floor.
“do you like my motherfuckin respiteblock?
==> It’s good to note that there is no recuperacoon in your room, you gave it up after being born with an addiction to the sopor slime within it and had no lusus to stop you from doing so. Up until 6 sweeps you had eaten it, before the Grand Highblood had decided to step into your life.
Multiple lashings and beatings had turned you into the fine member of highblood society you were today.
“i-iT’S NICE„,” You mutter.
You keep your head down, and you didn’t talk unless he spoke to you. You had to be good. You had to be calm, collected. Don’t let him get the better of you…Yet let him think he’s the smart one. You didn’t even know his name did you?
You didn’t bother asking. He would tell you when he was ready. You waited calmly, like a child about to be beaten by their parent for doing something wrong. Your heart felt as if it would be bursting out of your chest really soon.
==> You nod, and the two of you sit in silence for a few minutes. It’s a peaceful silence for you, the sound of the fire crackling in the background. It is probably tearing the other troll apart. That also calms you down. Then, you stand up, going over to the fire. You pull it out, staring at the bright orange iron with a smirk.
“COME HERE, MOTHERFUCKER.”
==> The Capricorn symbol has never looked so beautiful.
You nod, looking up for only a moment. Just a moment. Not much more than that. You take a step forward, keeping your head hung low.
You mutter this loud enough for him to hear, filled with nothing but respect. Just respect. You stumble to him, keeping your head down and away from his face. You lick your lips softly, one question lingering in your mind. Where was he going to put it? Where?
…On a side note, one that calmed you,
his symbol was utterly elegant.
==> You observe him, wondering where it would be most effective for you to brand him. You decide on two places. You grab his wrist.
==> You press the hot iron to his skin, relishing in the hiss and the smell of burning flesh. You pull it away, examining the wound before moving around to the back of him.
“AND MOTHERFUCKING HERE.”
==> The iron sizzles against the back of Tavros’s neck, and it’s gorgeous and beautiful and nothing hurts. Nothing will ever hurt as long as the smell of burning flesh is in the air.
You lied. This, is the most beautiful the Capricorn symbol has ever looked.
You shake softly when he grabs your wrist. Be brave…Be brave… Be br—
You scream, reaching to grab something, anything. Oh God that hurt, it burned. The worst kind of pain for you. You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed, and you begin to tremble from the trauma. When he decides on another place, you can’t help but groan in pure agony.
But when that iron hits your skin, God, that scream you let out. This was going to hurt for weeks. And these will be on you for the rest of your life. You whimper and tears begin to build in your eyes.
Damn it, you really needed to stop being a wuss. You wouldn’t survive like this.
==> His reactions are probably what put the icing on the cake. He screams, at the top of his lungs. It’s the most he’s shown emotion this entire time he’s been with you. He’s worn this fake mask and you just took it off.
It’s beautiful. Motherfuckin’ beautiful.
“calm the fuck down, motherfucker. I ONLY SCARRED YOU FOR LIFE. literally.”
==> You grab his wrist, the one you didn’t brand.
“I SAID CALM DOWN.”
You take one loud breath, a large inhale. Your lungs felt a bit tight. That was normal for something like this though. You calm down, still trembling, letting out little gasps and whimpers. A bit of blood dribbled down your chin, but you decide to ignore it.
You let your long mohawk cover one of your eyes as you look down, tears going down your cheek. You let out a small sob. You didn’t move. Not at all. Not even to clean your face. Back to being hidden, back to waiting.
Your breath was still shaky. And it still hurt very badly. The thing that really hurt, though, was knowing that even if you did become free…
You would never be free of him. Never be free of his mark. A part of you will always belong to this troll, and you still did not know his name. Nor did you question anything still.
==> You stare at his face, rust covers it. It’s pretty much the most disgusting and arousing thing at the same time. You lean forward and lick the blood from his chin, your hands going up to wipe away at the tears.
“stop making yourself look so motherfuckin disgusting.”
==> You lock eyes with him.
“YOU’RE MINE, NOW.” You reach out and move the mohawk out of his eyes. “you’re gamzee motherfuckin makara’s new rust.”
Your teeth chatter together, finally looking up at him. You blink away some more tears, swallowing a lump in your throat. You didn’t know if you were looking death in the face or not. It sure felt that way.
You just nod softly at his words, trying to find some comfort in them, though that was a hard process. You slowly let your head back down, the rings jingle again. You were going to take them out later… Unless of course he liked them.
But you didn’t want him ripping them out of you. You flinch at the thought. Then, you nod at him. His name was Gamzee.
==> Your hands trail up to his ear, as you start to notice the clinking. The jingling. The noise of metal hitting other metal. You move his ear a few times and nod.
“what the fuck is the point of these things, do you have a cultural motherfuckin reason or is it just a fashion choice?”
==> Your other hand loops in his nose ring again, tugging on it, much lighter this time.
“WHAT’S THE POINT OF PUTTING A HOLE IN YOUR NOSE? ENLIGHTEN ME.”
You take another deep breath, a softer one, and then look up at him with half lidded eyes. Your eyes were a soft rust, being only adolescent troll and all. You lick your lips, and you open your mouth to speak.
“i UH„,i-iT WAS„, a TEST i PUT MYSELF TOO„,” You admit.
You wanted the piercings to prove that you were strong. To prove that you could be exactly what you looked like…a bull. You were even branded like one now. Maybe this will just make you stronger.
==> You nod.
“so, it isn’t just a rust thing? I HAVE ONLY MOTHERFUCKING SEEN THESE RINGS ON ONE TROLL. and that is motherfuckin you.”
==> You let go of the piercing.
“YOU LICK YOUR LIPS A LOT. is that a nervous fuckin habit? I WAS ALWAYS TOLD THAT DRIES YOUR LIPS OUT. ain’t that just weirdest motherfuckin thing. I GOT BEAT FOR LICKING MY LIPS.”
==> Nobody really cares about the abuse highbloods go under. It’s their disciplinary action. Things rusts would find despicable are just a normal daily occasion to those with more pure blood, more violent blood.
“so, what i’m tryin to say. STOP LICKING YOUR LIPS. i can beat someone for that now. AND HIS NAME IS TAVROS.”
”„,i-i LIKE MY RINGS„,” You didn’t want to mention the ones that pierced your nipples.
That would be rather awkward.
When you hear that they beat him, you looked up at him showing concern. No wonder he was in such a bad mood like him…They abused him. That’s terrible. Your eyes flashed with a slight sadness, but careful not to show pity. When he was stern with you, you flinched and nodded.
“yES SIR,” Now you were trying to sound a bit stronger. You had to show that you had some grit in you somewhere.
“next point on the motherfuckin agenda.”
==> You lean in close.
“MY NAME. IS NOT. FUCKING. SIR.” You growl out, as if he could know that being called that would trigger something in you at all. “gamzee. or master. one of the fuckin two. preferably the second until i get to know you better.”
==> You turn around, throwing the iron back into the fireplace. It’s pointless to you, now that you have a slave. It’s very rare that you’ll have the opportunity to have another one. You weren’t a sea dweller, after all.
“THINK YOU CAN DO THAT?”
You nod again with a quiet agreement. You wipe your face with your palm, and calmly wait for an order of some sorts. Though something began to hit you hard…Your old self was gone now.
Were you even still Tavros Nitram? You didn’t feel like it. You felt drained all of a sudden… And your burns hurt and ached. You didn’t say a word though. Not once did you complain. Your original symbol stayed in your mind.
You branded it into your mind. So when you left this awful place you can at least try to salvage what was left of who you used to be. You still didn’t move. You just stood there and waited.
==> You look at the slave’s clothes. They are not fit to be worn in a highblood hive, not even by someone being forced to work here. You make your way over to your wardrobe, pulling it open. Everything you own will be too big for him, but if it gets him out of that disgusting garb it would be better.
You pull out a simple shirt, nothing fancy, with your symbol on it. You make a note to get him made clothes with his blood color and your symbol later on. You weren’t expecting a slave. For now, he’ll get the honor of wearing an indigo symbol.
“strip.” You order, “just your upper half. DON’T WANT TO SEE ANYTHING ELSE.”
You try very hard not to lick your lips again. You watch him carefully as he moves about the room to his closet. He must not be happy with your clothing. You ears twitch at that command, and you reach up to take all your rings out so they wouldn’t get caught by the fabric.
“y-yES MASTER„,” You muttered, keeping your head down.
You let the garments slip off of you, more jingling. You turn brown with embarrassment. You reach to take those rings out too. You wondered if the highblood would take them…they were all pure gold. You didn’t have an issue letting them go though.
Plus, what he wanted, he could get.
==> You notice the nipple piercings, and raise an eyebrow.
“i want an explanation for those once you’re dressed.”
==> You take the fallen clothes from the ground, throwing them into the fire. They’re not needed anymore. Then you hold out your hand, for the rings.
“YOU GET THESE BACK AFTER YOU’RE DRESSED.”
==> You offer the shirt to him.
“it’ll be big on you. YOU’RE NOT THE STRONGEST MOTHERFUCKER. but that’s okay; YOU PROBABLY WILL LOOK BETTER THIS WAY.”
==> Its true, you’re looking forward to seeing the slave in your clothes.
You nod, still keeping your head low. That’s fine…Explaining. You hand him the rings with no question, not even an expression lingered on your face. Like you said, you didn’t really care about them at all. You suppose having some new clothes would be nice.
When he said you weren’t strong, you felt a bit insulted. Though, of course you didn’t let it show. Also, you were sure he was right anyway. You take the shirt, and carefully pull over your head. You didn’t want your horns ripping it.
You really didn’t want to get beaten the first day here.
==> Your slave pulls on your shirt, and you watch him carefully. He’s struggling to get his shirt on without putting a tear into it. It’s kind of funny, but irritating at the same time. You reach forward, grabbing the shirt and helping in pulling it over his horns.
“motherfuckin can’t even get a shirt on. HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP A SLAVE WHO CAN’T GET DRESSED PROPERLY?” You circle around him, inspecting the shirt on him. “look good like that, though.”
==> You didn’t mean to let that slip, but it does. You blink for a second, before shrugging it off. He’d probably just take it as a side comment. If he didn’t, that didn’t matter either. He could take it any way he wanted.
You look at him; he looks like he’s had better days.
==> Step one to having a good slave, Stockholm syndrome.
“we should go get you something to motherfuckin eat. DID THEY NOT FEED YOU?”
“i-i’M SORRY„,” You quietly apologize for your horns.
Though, you did love them. When you were growing up you were taught that you should be proud of them. Though now it just seems that your pride is being drained away from you. When he says you looked good, you grunted a bit in surprise, but then went quiet again.
When he asked you if you were hungry, you did not lie. You nod your head, slowly. They haven’t fed you in a few days actually. You stomach was rumbling at the thought of food. It would be a bad idea to tell him you don’t eat meat.
==> You nod.
“you will get fed today and today only. AFTER THIS, YOU WILL BE FORCED TO MAKE MY MEALS FOR ME. you will only eat when and what i eat, and you will only make what i want you to make.”
==> You go to the door of your respiteblock, opening it. You throw your hand up, gesturing forward for him to catch up to you.
“YOU WILL ALSO WALK AT MY SIDE AT ALL TIMES UNLESS I HAVE A GRIP ON YOU. walking behind me gives a window for you to run. WALKING IN FRONT OF ME GIVES YOU AN HEIR OF BEING HIGHER THAN ME. i don’t like either idea, so you will remain next to me.
==> You stand, awaiting him to come next to you.
“y-yES MASTER„,” You mutter again.
As long as you get fed, you suppose you won’t complain, even if you do come face to face with meat. When he gestures for you to come along, you nod again. A false sense of equality? Fine.
You limp to him, looking down. Maybe he would get you a descent pair of leg braces. You stand by his side outside of the door, your expression dulled and emotionless. You had to void yourself of emotions from here on.
Though that’s hard considering it was only natural to feel them. But if you have no emotions, you can’t be broken. And you could survive. You’ll get your emotions back another day.
==> As the two of you walk the hallways to the main dining room, you come across the main foyer. It is filled with nobles who are expecting to see the Grand Highblood; they look at your rust as if he is a terror and a bug upon trollmanity’s shoulder.
He is, and they have the perfect right to look at him like that.
But when one comes by, and pushes Tavros out of his way, you hiss angrily.
==> The blue freezes in his tracks, and you can practically taste his fear. It’s delicious. He turns around and looks at you, bowing his head.
“now, what the fuck was that for?”
“He is a rust, sir, I was just—”
“DID HE DO ANYTHING MOTHERFUCKING WRONG?” You press your hand against his chest.
“no, he did nothing motherfuckin wrong. YOU JUST ASSAULTED A SUBJUGGLATOR’S SLAVE FOR NO REASON. you better fuck the hell off.”
==> He nods, quickly turning around. You raise your hand.
==> A huge troll comes by, nodding at you.
“have him killed.”
==> And then you continue to walk.
You look at your surroundings with awe and amazement. Everything in this area was painted with indigo, magenta, tyrian, and blue. There were paintings on the wall, paintings of the slain Signless. Paintings promoting the highbloods, showing Dualscar to the left, The Grand Subjugglator to the right, and the Empress in center of the ceiling.
You were so busy with your examining to notice the one troll coming to you, and bumping into your shoulder. You looked up and mutter and apology, then notice that everyone was shooting you glances of disgust. Then, you heard Gamzee’s voice ring out.
He was defending you? Was this some sort of trick of some kind? You said nothing, you didn’t speak. You wanted to tell Gamzee that it was okay, that he should leave the man alone, but you knew better. When he called over the big troll, you recognized him.
He was the one who brought you to the Grand Highblood for selection. The other trolls in the lineup were killed on the spot, but you were chosen to stay alive so you could serve Gamzee.
When he ordered the man killed your expression turned sorrowful for a second, then you looked back down. This was your fault. All of it. You didn’t want anyone dying because of you. Because of your petty and selfish need to survive. But you suppose you’ll deal with the guilt later. You continued to limp on with Gamzee.
==> You enter the dining room, next. It’s a large room and has multiple rows of elegant tables, draped over with tablecloths which intricate designs. They were hand-stitched with purple fabric and they were absolutely beautiful. You were completely used to this, and didn’t really care.
This room had multiple stain-glass windows, decorated with pictures of the Grand Highblood. He was an arrogant fellow, who liked to see himself and his partners on the hemospectrum celebrated.
The Signless’s stain glass window was the largest, though. It was simply the traditional picture that almost everyone in society had seen. The paintings in the foyer were nothing compared to it.
You lived well.
You didn’t care.
“are you just going to gawk at everything, OR ARE WE GOING TO MOTHERFUCKING EAT?”
You look up at him. No need to aggravate him. You stop your staring and look around at the table. You spotted a few other slaves with their Subjugglators, some looked a bit happier than others. You watch as one slave is thrown to the ground and screamed at.
Then, the owner beat her with some low class juggling clubs. Your express stayed blank still.
You then turn back to Gamzee, looking away from the scene.
”„,e-eATING SOUNDS NICE„,” You mutter softly.
You didn’t want to watch this.
==> You smirk as you watch the slave get beaten. Motherfuckin deserved it, whatever she may have done. You shove him into the seat next to the event, smiling sweetly in a ‘this is what’ll happen to you if you fuck up.’ kind of fashion.
Then, you turn to the highblood who is still beating the slave.
“watch him while i’m gone. IF HE MOTHERFUCKING MOVES, TURN YOUR CLUBS ON HIM. he needs to be broken in.
==> You walk away, going to get some food for you and your rust.
You sit down, and give him a small nod again. You realize he didn’t give you back your rings at this point. But that’s fine. You just needed them back before the holes closed up of course.
You watch him walk away, then looked back at the other Subjugglator, then looked back down. No direct eye contact. That’s for the best. You just examine the pattern on the table cloth. Such beauty.
==> When you come back, you have large assortments of food piled onto a tray. Most of it is for yourself. You grabbed a few fruits, apples and pears and grapes, roasted cluckbeast, bread, cheese, and a bottle of wine.
You slam the tray down on the table, sitting across from Tavros. You nod at the other highblood, and she nods back. It’s a mutual ‘thank you’ but without the words.
“i had no motherfuckin idea what to get you, so if you don’t like any of this shit you don’t get anything.”
==> You pop open the wine, pouring a glass for yourself but not for the troll across from you. Slaves don’t get alcohol, even something as small as a glass of wine is prohibited.
“t-tHANK YOU MASTER„,” You mutter softly.
You reach for the grapes and the bread. The apples looked very fine too. You rip off a small piece of the bread, putting it in your mouth. Ah, this reminded you of back at your hive. You missed it.
Even though it was small and in bad shape, you wanted to go back. You push that thought from your mind, and take a bit of the grapes. You usually ate a lot, but something tells you they won’t let you eat beyond what is necessary for you to survive.
”„,a-aNYTHING YOU WANT TO T-TALK TO ME ABOUT? m-mASTER?” You mutter.
No need to stay quiet the whole time. That might provoke him. Though, it would be a while before you learned all his peeves and ticks.
==> You nod, starting to eat. Finally he’s starting to motherfucking talk.
“finally.” You say, not really wanting to hold in the fact that you wanted him to talk way earlier. “i thought you’d never motherfuckin say anything but ‘yes’ or ‘thank you.’ or ‘master’”
==> You bring your glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the wine.
“THE RINGS ON YOUR MOTHERFUCKING NIPPLES. i want an explanation, now.”
==> You reach into the pocket of your cloak, remembering the rings that you took from him earlier. You slide them across the table to him.
“IS IT A FUCKING SEXUAL THING?”
Oh God. Oh God. Did he really just ask that? You choke a bit on your grapes. Then you sigh in relief when you’re actually able to keep them down. Your expression twists into an uncomfortable and awkward one before you speak.
”„,n-nO„,i-iT WAS LIKE THE OTHER RINGS„,” You say, moving your finger tip against the rings on the table.
“i-i WAS TESTING MYSELF AGAIN„,” A test of bravery against yourself.
You weren’t exactly the most brave or confident rustblood. Your confidence was low. Lower than your own blood. You did this to test it…To see if it could grow. It worked for a while…As a matter of fact you still think it is working. Somehow.
==> You laugh as he chokes. Definitely not a sexual thing. You didn’t really think it would have been anyway. You just wanted to see him squirm. Show emotion, and now he was.
“i have done motherfuckin things to test my bravery before.”
==> Happiness on your face grows as you remember what you’ve done to get where you were before, you had to rip a slave’s eyes out because they looked at you wrong. You were 6 sweeps when this happened. You’ve done far worse things now.
“GREAT MOTHERFUCKING THINGS.”
==> You nod.
“you must have shown some motherfuckin confidence for the Grand Highblood to actually want to keep you.” You examine the troll, “I’M SURE THERE WERE MORE SUITABLE RUSTS.”
==> Then you shrug.
“unless he thought i needed someone to fuck, giving me someone so pathetic.”
==> Another thing to make him squirm.
You nod, and then sigh at his next statement. Yes, you know you weren’t the pick of the liter. You really don’t know why the Highblood picked you either. You guess it was some sort of odd revenge against the Summoner.
Maybe he thinks he will come to rescue you and continue playing blackrom games with him. But, he wasn’t going to come and save you. He was right, you needed to grow up and be a man. So, you were on your own.
Plus, the Summoner and his army of animals fell back about a sweep ago. Maybe planning another rebellion.
That last part made you… Very concerned. You didn’t really know how to take that one. You just swallowed that lump that developed in your throat and continued your meal a bit before responding.
”„,i DON’T REALLY KNOW WHY i’M HERE„,i GUESS„,i’M JUST HERE TO DO AS YOU SAY„,”
==> You watch him eat for a few seconds, slightly intrigued on how rusts eat. Indigos do it so much more violently, ripping into the food. Maybe rusts did that too, and this was just a special case for Tavros.
You wouldn’t doubt it.
“don’t worry, motherfucker.” You don’t actually care if he worries or not, you just need to say something, “I’M NOT GOING TO FUCK YOU FOR NO REASON. that kind of action is so depraved. SO MOTHERFUCKING IMPROPER. even for an eviiil highblood like me.”
==> You throw your hands up in some kind of a jazz hand for that last statement.
==> Subject change.
“TELL ME ABOUT YOUR LUSUS. who the fuck raised you?”
Oh…That struck a nerve… You looked down. Tinkerbull… He was gone. They ripped off his horns and wings… Tore out his eyes. You really didn’t want to remember this. But, if you wanted to live you had to. You look up and exhale out of your mouth.
“m-mY LUSUS WAS„,a-a LITTLE BULL WITH WINGS„,b-bARELY THE SIZE OF MY HEAD„,”
You remember the games you used to play. Fiduspawn, tag. You remember he would make you the best salads. So sweet. You don’t even really have anything to remember him by.
”„,w-wE WERE CLOSE,”
==> You nod.
“you’re motherfuckin lucky, rust.” You look over at him, watching his expression closely. “I NEVER EVEN GOT TO KNOW MY LUSUS.”
==> You never knew him; he had left when you were younger. When you were around five and six sweeps, you used to think he was going to come back to you. If you just willed, begged to your messiahs, hoped, he would come back and everything would be okay.
He never did.
“raised my motherfuckin self until i was six. THEN THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD CAME AND DECIDED I NEEDED PROFESSIONAL MOTHERFUCKING HELP.”
You didn’t apologize. You didn’t know how he would take you saying I’m sorry. You pick up another handful of grapes. That cluck beast looked so unappealing to you. But the bread was delightful. You actually give a slight smile, trying to be more…friendly you suppose.
Then you frowned again remembering that was a bad idea. Your burns were beginning to really hurt. Maybe you should ask him if he could…Maybe…put something on them? But, you didn’t say that. Why? Because you didn’t want him to think you were spoiled.
Or you didn’t want him to think that you think you are spoiled. You were a slave. You would know your place. Until you get your freedom back…If you get your freedom back.
==> You sigh as once again he doesn’t reply, just reaches over and grabs more grapes. You grab his wrist, the burnt one, and squeeze it.
“you know, motherfucker, i’m not going to cull you for speaking. IN FACT, YOU’RE GOING TO GET CULLED MUCH FASTER IF YOU CONTINUE TO NOT SPEAK. tell me what’s exactly on your motherfuckin mind.”
==> You lean forward on the table, glaring at him.
“SOME PEOPLE PREFER SILENT SLAVES, i’m not one of those trolls.”
You blush a light brown when he grips your wrist, then you look at him with shock. You normally weren’t very talkative anyway. But you suppose you can try. You lick your lips, and try to think of a subject to talk about.
”„,s-sO UHH„, hMM„„ t-tHOSE PAINTINGS ON THE WALL ARE BEAUTIFUL„,a-aND THE WINDOWS TOO, ”
You were not going to lie. They were very beautiful. You wanted to get a closer look at them, but you supposed you were too low to even glance at them.
==> You growl at him licking his lips, but don’t comment on it. He’s talking for once.
“the Grand Highblood is a motherfuckin powerful being” You make sure to refer to the Grand Highblood with respect, unlike the disrespectful low tone you normally speak, you say his name proudly. He is a good troll to call your ancestor.
“HE CAN MAKE EVERY MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS ROOM BOW DOWN. so the paintings of him, of his companions and the other highbloods that he respects or that he’s killed, THEY’RE JUST A SENSE OF HIS OWN GIGANTIC EGO.”
==> You look up at the windows, eyes fixating on the one with the candy red blood of the sufferer.
“i had a friend with that color blood, before.”
You nod. You did too. You had no clue where he was right now though. They probably didn’t like him very much around here though. Just like you should have been killed on the spot when they brought you here. But instead you were here with Gamzee.
Not that you actually minded. Okay at the moment you did. Maybe things would get better. Or maybe you were too hopeful.
“i-i DID TOO„,” you finally say.
”„, uHH„, sO„, aNYTHING YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT MASTER? yOU KNOW„,m-mY LIFE IS KIND OF DULL,”
“NO, MOTHERFUCKING WAIT.”
==> You slouch in your chair and stare at Tavros at eye level. Could he have known him..?
“there’s only one motherfucker with that color blood that i have ever fuckin met. tell me his name.”
You blink. Yes you remembered his name. He was the other one…The Summoner’s other heir. You tap at the table lightly.
“h-hIS NAME WAS„,k-kARKAT„, kARKAT VANTAS„,” You say.
He went off to fight in the Summoner’s rebellion since he was older and more experienced than you. Also, your limp made you terrible at physical combat.
==> Hooooooly shit. Yep, that was him.
“he was my motherfuckin moirail when i was motherfuckin six sweeps old, a lot of shit happened when i was six, obviously.”
==> You nod, biting your claw lightly, remembering.
“KEPT THIS MOTHERFUCKER FROM KILLING ALL OF THESE BITCHES. but then the Grand Highblood found out his blood color and exiled him from the motherfuckin kingdom and into rust territory. HE WANTED TO KILL HIM, but i couldn’t let my ancestor kill my moirail.”
==> You laugh slightly, smirking at Tavros.
“y-yEAH„ vERY SMALL„,” You murmured.
All the grapes were gone. The bread too. You take a bite into one of the apples he got you. You supposed aside from the branding, it wasn’t that bad. You really didn’t have much else to talk about with him.
”„,s-sO„, dO YOU„, eNJOY ANYTHING OTHER SUBJUGGLATORS DON’T?” You wanted to know.
Maybe you both had something in common. You took a mental note to compliment his face paint, because you did like it.
==> You raise your eyebrow.
“all sorts of motherfuckin things. I APPRECIATE ME A GOOD MOTHERFUCKING ALTERNIAN SLAM POETRY BATTLE. i also motherfuckin like painting on occasion. MOTHERFUCKING MURALS. i suppose that’s a subjugglator thing, though”
==> You wouldn’t doubt it if Tavros has heard of the murals that subjugglators paint. They use the blood of their victims.
“I ACTUALLY USE REAL PAINT, THOUGH. don’t kill enough to motherfuckin get enough blood for a mural. I’M NOT ALLOWED TO ANYMORE, SINCE I OVER DO IT. i’m only allowed out on motherfuckin moon rises.”
Oh? You loved slam poetry too. You always have. But now you stick to singing and writing normal poetry. Though you don’t think Gamzee would enjoy your poetry. You look down, tracing shapes against the table cloth.
“i-i LIKE POETRY TOO„,” You muter.
Then you hear him talk of painting. You could have expected as much. You bet his paintings were wonderful. Subjugglators had talents for such things. You didn’t have any wonder talents like that.
You were very used to those moon rise days. You stayed inside in an underground room, hidden well under somethings. You hated those days. Hearing the screams…You knew you would have to experience it firsthand one day.
==> You’re taken aback when he says he likes slam poetry. Rusts aren’t normally used to old traditions such as that, but it is still a pleasant thing to hear. Most people actually aren’t all into the idea of slamming. You watch him as he draws in the fabric of the table cloth with his finger, and your eyes fixate on his wrist.
It’s starting to swell up; perhaps you should have cleaned it after the initial branding. He probably is hurting and just hasn’t mentioned it. You shrug. If he asks for it, you’ll clean it, but if he can’t muster up that courage he doesn’t get the treatment.
“you ever killed anyone, tavros?”
You stayed silent for a minute, looked down, then back up at him. No, you haven’t. You couldn’t. You never wanted to…and you would prefer not to. You look down, and remembered this man before you could turn you into a killer…very quickly.
“n-nEVER„,” You mutter.
It’s not like you could physically achieve such a thing anyway. You pick up your rings, putting them back into your ears and your nose. The nipple rings will have to come later.
==> You smirk; you were going to break this troll so hard into your highblood society if it hurt him. You get up, walking around the table to where Tavros was sitting. You pull on his mohawk to make him stand.
“WE’RE MOTHERFUCKING DONE EATING.”
==> You make him look at you.
“it’s time to play.”
You watch him until he’s behind you. And then you felt him grab and tug at your hair. You gasp, looked up at him, eyes wide. This was going to be bad. Very bad. But whatever it is, you were going to make it through it.
Him tugging at your hair was starting to hurt, but you said nothing. You just looked into his eyes before your ears go downward.
”„,y-yES MASTER„,” You say silently.
You try to sound neutral.
==> You pull him out of the dining room by his hair, then shove him into the middle of the foyer by himself. Then, you walk away from him, sit down, and watch.
A blue blood quickly comes up to scold him for not being with his master at all times. Calling him filthy names of all assortments.
You smirk and snap your fingers, Equius Zahhak coming up to you.
“seize the noble. IT’S TIME FOR A GAME.”
==> He nods, going up to the noble and tapping his shoulder. The blue jumps, turning around and seeing Equius. Then he’s grabbed by both arms. You go back over to Tavros.
“you’re going to kill someone higher than you.”
==> You stroke his chin.
“BE GRATEFUL YOU HAVE SUCH A GREAT MASTER.”
You hiss in pain as he tugs you along and you limp behind him. You have no time to admire anything on the way out. And now…he was pushing you forward in front of him. You were quickly greeted by a small flight of stairs, but you caught on the railing before continuing to walk down.
You look back at Gamzee with confusion, then you hear a loud voice scolding you and you turn to face it. A blue blood. Yelling at you, you open your mouth to say something, but he’s so loud. Then suddenly, a bigger blue blood was behind him, holding his arms.
You blink, then look up at Gamzee. When you hear the command your eyes widen. K-Kill him? You couldn’t. You wouldn’t Even if you wanted to. What would you kill him with? You couldn’t do it with your bare hands.
“m-mASTER i-i DON’T HAVE A-ANY UHH„,w-wEAPONS„,”
==> You scoff; he thinks you’re going to make him kill the blue blood right here, in front of everyone else. You laugh.
“motherfucker, i don’t want his disgusting peasantblood on my floors.” You glance at the floor, which is a beautiful black tile with both yours and the Grand Highblood’s symbol in every other tile. “IT’D BE JUST FILTHY AND UNDESERVING OF ALL THE WORK THAT WENT INTO THEM.”
==> You start walking towards the door, into a hallway. Cocking a finger for Equius and Tavros to follow.
You just stare at him as he talks. You? Kill a blue blood? That will just make everyone around here hate you more. You look down and wrap your arms around yourself, slowly limping after Gamzee next to Equius’s side.
On the way you stare at the tiles, thinking of random things to keep your mind off of this. Maybe when you go outside you will see some fruits and put together a salad for you and Gamzee. After all this is over.
If you were even alive after this. It’s funny. He’s about to put you through something like this and you’re thinking of ways to be kind to him. You really need to grow a back bone and learn how to be angry.
==> The four of you walk in silence, the blue blood practically shaking with each step. You hear him struggle and every so often you turn your head back to smirk at him. Then, Equius speaks.
“Highb100d, don’t you think that perhaps allowing a rustb100d to kill someone so much higher on the hierarchy is a moral contradi%ion for everything we believe in?” He drones out, in that annoying voice.
Navy blue blood; it’s probably the color you can’t stand the most. It borders on highblood and nobility and throws everything out of wack. He is training to be an e%ecutioner, though, so he has to work under a blood color even higher than he.
“no. i don’t think it matters at all.” You say, honestly. “HE IS MY MOTHERFUCKING SLAVE, HE IS HIGHER THAN THIS BLUE BLOOD.”
==> Zahhak looks taken aback.
“But, he is so much lower—”
“and he is also mine. SO HE DOES WHAT I SAY. and you do what i say, got it, zahhak?
==> You get to a door at the end of the hall, as Equius stops speaking. You open it and smirk.
“WELCOME TO THE ARMORY.”
==> You walk into the room, pretty much twirling around. You’re not normally allowed in here. Ever. Most likely because of the weapons, the idea of what you could do with the weapons, it ends up… causing problems. Wonderful, miraculous problems in your eyes. Heartless murder problems in others.
“look at all the motherfuckin weapons. LOOK AT ALL THE SLAGHTER THAT COULD BE CAUSED. all the blood that could be spilled. SO. MOTHERFUCKING. BEAUTIFUL.”
==> Zahhak grabs your shoulder, and you wince. Fuck, he’s strong.
“Highb100d, you must calm yourself or I will be forced to e%tract you from the room.”
==> You growl at him, grabbing a random sword off the wall and pointing it at his chest. “don’t motherfuckin talk to me like that.” You lower the sword, then look at your rust. His eyes are fixated on the lance section, and you smirk. It makes sense the bull troll and the descendant of the Summoner would be into jousting, didn’t it?
“ZAHHAK, GET HIM ONE OF THOSE LANCES. the motherfuckin pretty one.”
==> Equius nods and lets go of the blue blood, throwing him to the ground. The noble knows if he runs he will be dead faster, so he stays on the floor. Not willing to turn down a request, he goes over to the lances, pulling down an elegant purple one with the sign of Capricorn on it.
You stare at the lance. Both wonder and horror in your eyes. Your surprise he would allow you to touch a weapon so soon. The lance was beautiful, the noble color of death. You took the lance, looking down at it.
It’s not like the one you had longed for since your youngling states. The wonderful black one the Summoner had had. That was the one you had wanted for ages. And that was still the most beautiful lance you’ve ever since…
But this one had its own flare and sense of power. But, you didn’t really long to kill anyone with it. You look at Gamzee, then at Equius, then the blue blood, and then back down. There still would be bloodshed.
==> You smirk as you watch him hold the weapon with awe. You never saw the point in lances; never really saw the point in any sharp weaponry. You glance at the sword in your hand, looking at the blue blood on the ground.
“motherfucker, you want a weapon?”
==> He nods furiously, fear in his eyes. You can see him staring at the lance.
==> You take the sword and put it into your belt, pulling your cloak over it to conceal it. You’re not allowed to have weapons normally, aside from your clubs. Why would you turn down the opportunity?
You go over to the fallen noble, gripping his hair and pulling him up.
“i never said it would be a duel. I JUST SAID MY SLAVE COULD KILL YOU.”
==> You hold his hands behind his back. You also keep that one hand in his hair and force him to stare at your rust.
“go ahead, tavros.”
You look down at the lance. It looked mighty sharp. You look down at the slave with a sorry look on your face. You grit your teeth and begin to feel tears coming. But you wanted to shake them off…they still escaped you; a transparent brown, going down your cheek.
You limp forward, glancing at Gamzee again. Then back at the lance. You were shaking. Roughly trembling… But, you knew you had to. As selfish as this was…You had to kill him. Bring him to an end. He has to end for you to begin. Sacrifice one for many…you will redeem yourself.
If and when the Summoner comes back.
You raise the lance, grinding your teeth together again, this time you could hear them clack together. The lance shook in your grip, your body shook too. Your legs felt like jelly. You couldn’t breathe right.
“ Lo siento…” You mutter so low that only the blue blood could hear.
You jerk the lance forward, through his chest. You turn your head away as blood splattered on to you. On your face, your chest, your hands. You let out a loud sob. Blue was everywhere. I was on your body and in your mind. You shook and fell to the ground, burying your face into your hands.
And you cried.
==> You watch as he actually impales the blue, and impales him good. He speaks his native language and you remember to scold him for that later, but for now you feel something else.
Were you proud?
Yes, you were proud. He had just killed in cold blood for you, for someone who had simply yelled at him. The blue blood looked absolutely terrified, as if he couldn’t believe he was about to lose his life to a rustblood. But he did.
You make your way over to Tavros, settling next to him.
“the first kill is always the motherfucking hardest. THE SECOND IS EASIER BUT TEARS AT YOUR HEART. the third you start to drown out the fact it happened. THE FOURTH, IT STARTS TO GET FUN.”
==> You know this from personal experience.
“or at least, that’s how it was for me. IT MAY TAKE A BIT LONGER FOR A RUST. my first kill was when i was a few sweeps old, though.”
==> You tug on his nose piercing lightly.
“GET UP; I THINK YOU NEED TO SLEEP.”
Oh God. Oh God. What had you just done? Why…Why did you have to be so selfish? So intent on your own survival. You suddenly wanted to rip out your own eyes, and burn his symbol right off of you.
You look at your shaking hands, painted in blue. Blue. You look down at the corpse, breathing heavy and uneven. You gasp and sobbed, even as Gamzee talked to you. His way of comfort was…not really helping you. He was reassuring you this wouldn’t be the last time. That you would…have to commit this crime again.
You feel him tug at your ring; you just look up at him with brown and blue stained cheeks. You stood, still trembling. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying hard not to fall back on to the ground and just…curl up and cry.
You weren’t meant for this. You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t. Oh God, you couldn’t. You lean on the wall a bit, feeling sick. Your stomach churning. You wanted to vomit. Badly. You gag, and hold it back.
==> You blink, he’s crying, so much. You don’t know how to handle it. You kind of want to reach out and punch him in the face and tell him to stop. You’re smart enough to know that’d be a dumb idea, though.
You also kind of want to hold him close and whisper in his ugly rust hair that everything is going to be okay.
This thought unsettles you.
==> You let go of his nose ring.
“ZAHHAK, STAY BACK AND CLEAN UP.”
==> Equius nods, moving to clean the body. You bite your lip lightly, looking back at your rust— the rust, not your rust. Why do you call him that? It’s idiotic. He’s still crying. Was he ever going to stop?
“you definitely need to sleep.” You mutter. “COME ON, I’LL SHOW YOU YOUR LIVING QUARTERS. you can meet the Grand Highblood’s slave, aradia, you’ll be bunking with her. YOU CAN CRY OVER YOUR SLAVERY TOGETHER.”
You nod, your sobbing becoming silent. You limp after him, keeping your arms around yourself. Everything was very dim now. Everything was slow. You stumble next to him, tears still falling down your cheek. Your lips quivering.
As soon as you were far enough from the door outside, you let the contents of your stomach free onto the ground. You gag, and after that, you cover your mouth with your hands and stare down at the ground with wide eyes. Then you shook your head, and walked on.
This time you held your stomach for it continued to churn. You were sick. You were evil. A murderer. You limp next to Gamzee, keeping your head lower than usual. Everything was blue. Everything. You were starting to hate the color.
==> You shake your head as he empties his stomach. You’re not going to beat him for it, you did just make him eat and then kill someone. Still, it was a waste of food. You’d scold him for that and speaking his native tongue later on when he wasn’t looking so pitiful.
Damn it. Stupid rust.
You and he walk, side by side, and every so often you turn your head to look at him. The limping is starting to annoy you. You make a mental note to make Equius make him a brace.
“it’s just around here.”
==> You turn to a door; it simply has the name ‘Aradia’ on it. You push open the door and her first reaction is to bow her head to you, then she sees Tavros. A sad reassuring smile goes on her face and she waves quickly. The Grand Highblood preferred silent slaves, so she did not speak much.
You look at Gamzee, wiping the tears from your face before stepping into the room with Aradia. Your eyes were half-lidded for now you were tired and just needed to rest your mind. You nod at her when she waves, then she shows you to your bed.
You turned around to look at Gamzee, your hair covering the one eye. You still look sick, pale. Drained. You put your head back down, and walk back over to him. You must be proper and say good night, and then you would go wash this bad taste out of your mouth.
”„,g-gOOD NIGHT, mASTER„,” You muttered softly, void of any kind of emotion that wasn’t blue.
You were really sick of the color, and the feeling. You then slowly limp to your bed and fall on to it, huddling into a ball and closing your eyes. You didn’t even bother getting a pillow, you just lay there and trembled. You silently cry yourself to sleep.
This was the first of many harsh nights for you.