Premades
These are premade intros from old roleplays that I liked enough to keep and could be reused.
Gender bent medieval / F// turns to MxF
**prompts for both girls are below.
Elysande, the princess.
Fifteen years prior....
The upcoming birth of a royal child had been eagerly awaited for some time. The king had been married to his wife almost fifteen years, and no children had been brought forth from the union. It had been a sad and unlucky state of affairs that led to some unrest within the kingdom. If there were never an heir to the throne, he could be deposed or killed by any number of rivals and have the kingdom taken. For this reason, King Edwin had built for himself a magnificently skilled and loyal group of personal guardsmen who were never more than a shout away. He had also assigned two of the men to look after his wife as many claimed she was the problem, a barren woman, and had no place beside the King.
Desperate for an heir, the king had one of his guardsmen bring to him a conjurer from Kaf who was said to possess a great deal of skill. We're she not to be able to bring them a child, the other measures seemed grim. He knew that either he or his wife must be to blame for their childlessness, and so he would either have to allow another man to lie with her or lie with another woman himself. This was not a fate he wished to meet, and so the witch was brought into the castle.
She appeared young and beautiful, though he had heard she had been living there for many decades, and she went only by the name of "L." In return for her help he had promised her protection always by his guardsmen and a great number of jewels. L had taken the offer gratefully and asked that she be allowed to stay in the castle for one month before she could fully assess the situation. So, that wish was granted.
Day in and day out she watched the queen and king interact. She watched their mannerisms, their love for one another, their distaste for certain things...and she asked the queen to keep a log of whenever she was intimate with the king. While it was a strange and embarrassing thing to document, Queen Madrigal agreed, desperate for a child.
When one month had come to a close L brought out of her room two small bottles. She handed one to each of them, and instructed. "Drink these at sunset, and in three hours time you must go to his quarters and lay with him. I swear to you your blood will not flow this month, and in nine months time you will have a healthy child." They both accepted her words and prayed it was not poison. However, when sunset came the woman departed and the couple did as they were told. Just as she had promised, in nine months time the queen was on her birthing bed.
People had gathered in and around the castle from all over to celebrate the joyous event, and when the baby was born healthy and screaming, they both wept with joy. However, the baby was a girl. This still posed some problem as a female could never inherit the title without being properly married. Nonetheless, the painstaking process they had gone through made them grateful to have any child at all. And her life became the most precious thing in the kingdom.
Even as a child she had private guards, never being left for any circumstance of harm. Elysande was a precocious child who loved to find a way to slip her guards, only for them to find her a few minutes later. She never wanted to be far from her home, but something inside her wanted the freedom she knew she could never have.
As she grew Ella remained the only child of the King and Queen, despite their best efforts to produce a male heir, and with every year older she turned, the king knew he would have to bid farewell to his daughter in order to marry her into a position that would secure his kingdom. It wasn't a thought he enjoyed, but it was one that became more and more of a reality as she blossomed into a beautiful young woman.
He hated to see his little blonde haired, blue eyed girl turn into a slender but shapely woman, curves prominent to remind him that she was no longer a child. She looked so much like her mother had nearly thirty years prior when they had wed one another, he 18 and she 15...Ella's current age. It was on her fifteenth birthday that they began reviewing possible suitors and scheduling that she be brought to neighboring balls to be viewed and assessed. So they had a new dress with gold embroidery made especially for the trip, and Ella was informed of the task before her. She was to bring all her charms before the prince of Silben in order that she might strengthen their alliance and perhaps wed him.
It was not a task she was overly excited about, but because she loved her father, she had nodded and accepted gracefully. On the morning they were to depart her things were packed carefully and loaded onto the horses before she was fetched. While entertaining the prince twelve years her senior did not thrill her, the thought of finally being out on her own, well, almost on her own, certainly did. She would have Ana with her, and over the two years in her service, while they had never talked much, he had always been a kind man to her. She thought there might be more to him than his quiet demeanor gave away and was looking forward to the chance to perhaps get to know the man a bit better. They would have no less than six days to do so, and that at least made her smile.
Her golden locks had been pinned back from her face so as not to obstruct her view while riding, and with a smile painted on her porcelain face, she approached and greeted, "Good morning!" Before mounting the horse who has already been saddled for her.
Ana..the girl wishing to be a boy.
"Papa! Papa! Papa!" a little girl ran through a small corn field looking for her father. "Over here Ana" The little girl ran off in the direction of her fathers voice. "Papa! Come see!" the little girl grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward the village. "Anastasia calm down, what is it little one?" her father laughed, letting his little girl drag him to whatever she was going on about.
The five year old let go of her father's hand, sure he would follow her, as she ran through the crowed of people in order to be able to see. Her father pushed through the onlookers to find his daughter, who was jumping up and down excitedly. "What is going on?" He asked, before the man next to him could answer Ana started screaming, pointing up the road. "Papa look! Papa look! The soldiers are coming" she screamed excitedly. Only a few seconds later a small group of men on horses crested the hill. The market cleared almost immediately when people realized it was nothing but a group of Palace Guards lead by an actual Kings Knight.
Her father shook his head with an amused grin. His little Ana always seemed to know when Palace Guards and the Kings Knights were anywhere near the village. "Papa isn't it exciting?!" Ana said with a bright smile on her face, running over to a man who had just dismounted his horse. "Mister! Mister!" she said, tugging on his tunic. The man looked down at the little girl excitedly pulling on his tunic. The guard smiled down at her, most people were not happy to see them. They were usually only around if the area was in trouble. So it was nice to see a child so excited to see him. "Yes?" The guard knelt down so he could look at her on her own level.
"Are you really a guard for the king?" she asked in an awed voice.
The five year old let go of her father's hand, sure he would follow her, as she ran through the crowed of people in order to be able to see. Her father pushed through the onlookers to find his daughter, who was jumping up and down excitedly. "What is going on?" He asked, before the man next to him could answer Ana started screaming, pointing up the road. "Papa look! Papa look! The soldiers are coming" she screamed excitedly. Only a few seconds later a small group of men on horses crested the hill. The market cleared almost immediately when people realized it was nothing but a group of Palace Guards lead by an actual Kings Knight.
Her father shook his head with an amused grin. His little Ana always seemed to know when Palace Guards and the Kings Knights were anywhere near the village. "Papa isn't it exciting?!" Ana said with a bright smile on her face, running over to a man who had just dismounted his horse. "Mister! Mister!" she said, tugging on his tunic. The man looked down at the little girl excitedly pulling on his tunic. The guard smiled down at her, most people were not happy to see them. They were usually only around if the area was in trouble. So it was nice to see a child so excited to see him. "Yes?" The guard knelt down so he could look at her on her own level.
"Are you really a guard for the king?" she asked in an awed voice.
"I'm so sorry sir, she's easily excitable." Her father said, coming over to pull Ana away from the soldier.
"Oh she's alright." the guard turned to Ana. "Yes, I am a guard for the king." he answered her, amused when the little girl's eyes some how managed to grow bigger.
"Wow" she whispered before squealing in delight. "My Papa says you protect us from the war. Is that true?" she asked in a quite voice, as if she was discussing some great secret.
"Yes it is. We also protect the king. As long as a Knight lives the kingdom will be protected"
She let out another "wow" before she stood up as tall as she could. "One day, I'm going to be a knight and protect the king too" she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
The knight just chuckled at her, he knew full well a woman had no business being in such a violent line of work. But who was he to break her small spirit? She would grow up and learn where her place in the world was. "Well then, you'll need a sword" he reached off to the side and pulled a stick up off the ground. "Learn to use it well, and one day you might become a knight" he said with a laugh.
She looked at the stick as if it were the most perfect sword ever crafted. “I promise I will learn everything Sir Knight” She said excitedly, looking up at her father with a smile that could light up the darkest forest.
Five years had passed since that day, and she still had the stick the knight had given her. She would often pretend it was a sword and mimic the moves she had seen a few of the older village boys do when they would pretend to be soldiers. One night she overheard her parents talking "Anthony, I am truly worried about Ana. She still has this knight thing in her head" She heard her mother whisper to her father.
Five years had passed since that day, and she still had the stick the knight had given her. She would often pretend it was a sword and mimic the moves she had seen a few of the older village boys do when they would pretend to be soldiers. One night she overheard her parents talking "Anthony, I am truly worried about Ana. She still has this knight thing in her head" She heard her mother whisper to her father.
"Oh Marie, leave her alone. She's just a child. Let her have her dreams. She will grow up soon enough." Her father defended.
Her mother seemed to get angrier. "Anthony it's not a place for a woman! She is a young girl and needs to learn the proper way to keep a home! Your stories of the King and his Knights are poisoning her mind!" a tear slid down Ana's cheek, they didn't really believe she could become a knight. Her mother said her mind was poisoned and her father had been lying to her. She made a decision then and there that she would leave her village and train to become a knight. She would not return until she became a knight and proved them wrong.
So, in the dead of night she crept away from the room she shared with one of her brothers who was only a year older then her. She grabbed one of her father's feed bags and filled it full of as much food as she could fit. She also grabbed a sharp curved blade her father used to hack down the corn, she would need something a little more powerful then a stick and this was the closest she would find here.
So, in the dead of night she crept away from the room she shared with one of her brothers who was only a year older then her. She grabbed one of her father's feed bags and filled it full of as much food as she could fit. She also grabbed a sharp curved blade her father used to hack down the corn, she would need something a little more powerful then a stick and this was the closest she would find here.
She wanted to take her stick with her, it had become a symbol for everything she dreamed of becoming. In a strange way it was a comfort item for her. But she would need a way to explain to her family why she was leaving. After several long minutes she decided she couldn't leave the precious item behind and placed it lovingly in her bag. She went outside and grabbed another stick off the ground that looked similar to her own, her family would never know. She placed it on her neatly made bed, they would understand that meant she was leaving to become a Knight.
She went to the barn, feeling a little guilty about stealing from her father. But she had to leave. She took their horse and readied the animal as quickly as she could. With one last look at her village she rode away into the night.
That had been one of the most frightening periods of her life. As a soldier she had been in many bloody battles since then and had never been as afraid as she had the days after she left the village.
She rode as long as the horse could, it was five days before she ran out of food and another day before her horse died. She had no idea what caused the animal's death. She suspected the horse was simply to old to handle the distance Ana had tried to go. The worse part was she had not seen another soul in the six days since she left the village, and even if she turned around she doubted she would ever find her way home. Her only option was to keep going forward.
She made it two more days by foraging as she walked. She could hardly keep going she was so tired. She was afraid to sleep because every time she started to fall asleep she would hear some animal howl or some other terrifying noise and she would get up and keep running. But she couldn't keep going, her small body could not hold up to what she was doing. She fell to the ground, the last thing she saw was someone standing over her as the darkness consumed her.
When she woke up she was in a bed, and there was a thatched roof above her. She looked around, trying to find where she was. She timidly got out of the small bed, edging her way to the door, afraid of what she would find. She peeked out of the door to see a small kitchen and table. There was not much to the little home, but what she noticed more importantly was an old man sitting on a soft looking arm chair. "Ah, I see you've decided to stay" the voice startled her and she jumped, quickly retreating to the bedroom, closing the door with a snap and jumping back onto the bed.
The man entered the room and laughed "Relax little one, I'm not going to hurt you" His voice was kind and he reminded her a lot like her father. "My name is Clarence. Who are you?" the man asked, sitting on the end of the bed.
"My name is Anastasia, everyone calls me Ana" she said in a small voice. "Well Ana, how did you come to be nearly dead in the woods?" he asked in the same kind voice. "I left my family's farm to I could be a Knight to the King!" she said in a confidant voice. To her delight the man did not scoff at her. "Well then you're in luck" she raised an eyebrow at him. "I happen to be in need of an apprentice." she laughed "You're a knight sir?" the man shook his head with an amused grin. "No, but I am a skilled Blacksmith, and am skilled with a blade. Any good Knight must know how to wield a sword" Ana's eyes grew wide with excitement. "You mean, you'll teach me to fight?" Ana asked excitedly. "You don't care that I'm a girl?" she asked as a sadness over took her. "Of course not, I've known many women who could bring a man to his knees" he answered with a laugh. "You apprentice under me and I'll teach you to fight."
For the next five years that was exactly what she did. She cleaned up around the shop, ran errands and helped Clarence run his smith shop. When they weren't forming swords he was teaching her to fight. He wasn't kidding when he said he was skilled with a blade. She learned he had been a soldier for the King during the Black Wars. He had left the service when he was considered to old to be of useful serves. Though she had no idea why he was considered too old, he was still deadly with a blade.
At first they used wooden swords, it couldn't leave a permanent damage but it did hurt as hell. She quickly learned not to let him hit her. When she started looking like a woman more people grew outraged with a girl working in a blacksmiths. So she had taken to wearing a pad of fabric around her stomach and wrapping another cloth tightly around her breasts so she looked like a man. Her hair remained a problem, the first time she cut off her hair she had cried. The loss of her femininity was almost to much for her. There were sacrificed she was willing to make for her dreams. It did not take her long to accept the mans haircut. The day she accepted her hair could never be long again Ana died and Antonin was born.
At first they used wooden swords, it couldn't leave a permanent damage but it did hurt as hell. She quickly learned not to let him hit her. When she started looking like a woman more people grew outraged with a girl working in a blacksmiths. So she had taken to wearing a pad of fabric around her stomach and wrapping another cloth tightly around her breasts so she looked like a man. Her hair remained a problem, the first time she cut off her hair she had cried. The loss of her femininity was almost to much for her. There were sacrificed she was willing to make for her dreams. It did not take her long to accept the mans haircut. The day she accepted her hair could never be long again Ana died and Antonin was born.
When she was fifteen Clarence told her there was no more he could teach her and he gave her a horse and enough supplies to make it to the palace. With a tearful goodbye she left. She arrived safe at the palace and after much convincing she got a chance to show her skills to a real knight. The best day of her life was when she was taken as his squire.
The two years under his tutelage had been spent carefully preserving her secret and perfecting her skills. She was leaps and bounds ahead of other squires. She had Clarence to thank for that. Her knighting ceremony was a simplistic affair but it was the best day of her life. When she knelt in front of the King and that ceremonial sword touched both of her shoulders a silent happy tear slid down her cheek. She went out of her way to be in places where she could prove herself. She wanted to be a guard to the King, she had spent her entire life dreaming of guarding the King.
Shortly after her knighting ceremony she got the chance to prove her worth. They were ambushed by a small band of thugs who were intent on harming the Royal ambassador. Two guards lost their lives but Ana slaughtered three of them and returned the Ambassador to the castle safely. That's when she was assigned to be the Princess' personal guard.
It was a coveted position, she had only one responsibility. Make sure the Princess was safe. It also gave her more privacy, in order to protect the Princess she had a small chamber beside hers. She only pads when she bathed, but having her own private chambers made it easier for her not to worry about being found out.
She truly loved her job. She had become well acquainted with Princess Elysande. Many called them friendly, but Ana didn't see it that way. Sure, she called the Princess by her name, but that was the extent of it. She had to be careful not to allow herself to get to close to the gentle Lady.
In the two years she was her guard she had come to truly love the Princess, deeply and painfully. She would give her life for the Princess more then a simple guard would. She was a Knight now, considered nobility. If she really were a man she would be eligible to beg the King for her hand. She had looked into every magic she could find, and there was one promising lead. There was a witch rumored to live near the village of Kaf. Kaf was only a day out of their way to the Kingdom of Silben where she was escorting the Princess. She was making the travel plan so it was easy to take the longer route that passed Kaf.
Many would describe Antonin as a quiet man of few words. Truth was Ana didn't speak about herself much for fear of being found out. She knew if she was discovered she may be executed for treason.
That morning, Ana barked out orders to the stable hands who were saddling the Princess' horse. She would never allow anyone but herself to do her own horse. She was a bit paranoid about her horse, so she simply did it herself. "Hurry now men, we leave with in the hour" she barked out in a gruff voice. As the Princess' personal guard she was in charge of organizing the troop which would accompany herself and the Princess to a neighboring kingdom of Silben. She looked around, satisfied that everything was in order. They had the supplies, the men and the route all set. All they were waiting on was the Princess.
That morning, Ana barked out orders to the stable hands who were saddling the Princess' horse. She would never allow anyone but herself to do her own horse. She was a bit paranoid about her horse, so she simply did it herself. "Hurry now men, we leave with in the hour" she barked out in a gruff voice. As the Princess' personal guard she was in charge of organizing the troop which would accompany herself and the Princess to a neighboring kingdom of Silben. She looked around, satisfied that everything was in order. They had the supplies, the men and the route all set. All they were waiting on was the Princess.
Girls' School, Victorian England
Margaret Anne Hatchard sat in the blue satin chair situated in the far left corner of her dormitory room at Madame Crusette's School for Girls. Her strawberry blonde curls were pulled half back and held tightly with a navy bow that matched her plaid, buttoned school dress. Her little white socks and little white shoes made her look like a tiny schoolgirl, but she was well in her teens now. Her mother had sent her to Madame Crusette's for 'finishing school' or so she had called it. She said all ladies needed to know the modern languages, they needed to draw, to play the piano, to walk with poise, to dance gracefully, to know how to prepare tea, and to be desirable for a husband. So she had come here expecting to learn just that. However, she hadn't expected it to be an all girl's school. How was she to meet a husband if there were no boys waiting to become one? She supposed all would be explained in time.
Maggie had only been at the school a few hours. Her mother, father, and younger brother, Ethan, had dropped her off at the front door and gave her a warm hug goodbye. She'd been assisted by a servant boy (who at the time she assumed was a student until he informed her he was much too poor to afford such a place, plus, he wasn't 'of the female persuasion') to carry up her trunks, then she sat in the little room of striped pink and cream with fluer de lis prints on the blue satin chairs and two bed bunked with off white sheets waiting for the girl who would occupy her life for the next 18 to 24 months.
Emmy Lou: (Post WWII intro)
Emmy Lou Smith sat on her front porch looking up at the sunrise. "Today's the day he comes home," she told herself, clutching tightly to one of his shirts. He'd been gone for so long now. Had it been months or years? She had lost count long ago. Her pink plaid seersucker dress had been fixed just perfect, her hair curled just right, rouge on her cheeks and lipstick on her lips. He had told her she looked so pretty in that dress once, so she was wearing it for him today. She had that little gold band on her left ring finger and kissed it gently, pretending the cold metal was his lips. Her heart had skipped a beat the first moment they'd met. She fell hard and fast. She'd come straight home and said "Mama, he's the one." Of course her Mama hadn't believed her then, but he was. She loved him more than life, her John, her love.
She'd sworn she'd sit right here until he came and swept her up, taking her in his big, solider arms, looking so handsome in that uniform and kissed her square on the lips. Her little white mary janes clicked together in anticipation. She didn't care if she had to wait all day. She had a yellow ribbon tied up on her hair. It didn't match her outfit, but she didn't care, it was for her soldier. There was one on the mailbox, one on the big oak in the backyard, one on the edge of the porch, and at his mama's house it was nearly covered there were so many. He and his little brother were coming home. It would be just wonderful. They could all be one big family. Johnnie'd told her soon as he got home, they'd get married. She already had a dress hanging in the closet. She'd bought it at Houston's downtown. It was in the window on a maniquin and she thought, 'That's about the prettiest thing I've ever seen.' So though she couldn't afford it, she bought it anyway. Her daddy said 'you only get married once,' and though he didn't have the money for it either, paid for it. Emmy cried as she hugged her daddy close that day.
She'd envisioned life: a little white pickett fence, a house right next door to his mama's, two sons and daughter playing with a collie in the yard. It was absolute perfection, and today was when that perfection was going to begin.
Bayani: (mid/fant intro)
The midday sun was hot upon the porcelain face of Princess Bayani Weatherly of Louden. She’d been riding since before the sun came up and was told she should reach her destination by sunset. Treiaul, neighboring land to her own, by all accounts recently, a threat, but a peace offering had been brought to Treiaul, her. Just as soon as she passed into those gates Bayani Weatherly would be Bayani Weatherly no more; she would be Bayani Stelreize, future queen of Treiaul.
The idea was foreign to her. In fact, she hated it. She wanted no man in her life and had always secretly hoped she could just sneak away eventually and never return. She had not gone quickly enough because the morning of her seventeenth birthday her mother thrust her out of bed and said a man was coming to ‘look at her,’ her wavy chestnut hair, her deep, endless Prussian eyes, her full lips and supple bust, her thin waist, her grooming, her dress, her manners, her poise. The list went on and on until Bayani stopped listening and stood, stock still, as her mother bustled around her with three handmaidens dressing and fixing and primping. It had only taken two hours to settle her fate, and now, here she sat, atop her most prized possession, Aeva, knowing her fate was only a few hours away.
She bit her rosey lip and tried to focus on the road ahead of her, but something caught her eye. There, in the distance, was a large crowd of people. She wondered if perhaps it was a band of traveling mistrals. She did love music! A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, surely. She eased up to the crowd, then dismounted and tethered Aeva to a tree so she could come in close, but the nearer she drew, the more she realized this was not a performance. “For crimes against the crown!” cried the executioner, and Bayani’s eyes flew wide. She tried to turn back but the young boy, no more than twelve seemed to hold her in place, his eyes catching her own, reading her soul, cutting her deep.
She stood, enraptured, disgusted, horrified, as the boy opened his mouth. “It was a true cause. The one who sits upon the throne is not its rightful owner. Our people are the people of this land. Our king is the king of this country. My death is insignificant. My life was to serve Treiaul, the true Treiaul. And you must too…” She shook her head no, but the executioner slipped the noose around his neck.
“Any last words boy?” Hadn’t he just said them? Had she imagined he was talking?
“Al Fera Gale to Milu. To the honor of the glory of the crown.” And with that he pulled the lever and the boy was gone. Bayani turned away in horror, tears streaming down her face and began to walk, hurriedly back to Aeva.
(A double play, Edwardian England, high society)
Charity Marie Browning, Duchess of Glauchester, stepped daintily out of the carriage assisted by her Brother, Edward Allen Browning, Duke of Glauchester. They had decided for the evening to wear matching attire since neither had acquired a date to the masquerade: Charity in her peach and baby blue silk bustle gown adorned with lace upon the neck and sleeves and down the front pleats and Edward with his blue tails and peach buttons and masque with the same lace as his sister's bodice. Charity took away her delicate laced masque held upon a thin white rod to thank the driver before allowing herself to be escorted in by her brother. The two walked arm in arm, utterly content with themselves, always lively and a joy to be with at social functions. They were each other's better halves. They'd had to be. Their parents had died rather young and the two had grown to be utterly inseparable. Their aunt and caregiver, their father's sister, wondered if either would ever marry. They seemed to be so happy going about their child's-play at twenty three and twenty one years of age.
Two of Charity's blonde ringlets framed either side of her face, that which was not hidden by the masque, while the rest of her abundance of curls sat just underneath her delicate feathered hat. Edward, in his usual style, had his brown hair cut, short, combed, pristine. He looked almost too clean someone had once said to him. He'd scoffed and said 'there is no such thing!' Charity still laughed when he told the story, even after dozens of renditions to countless people. Her porcelain cheeks flushed and filled with the most beautiful rose hue whenever she laughed. She was a sight to behold, and her brother was no less the picture of perfection. If one had not know they were brother and sister, one might have assumed the two were happily wed, they looked so utterly perfect together.
JUST FOR REF! I DO NOT DO THIS ANYMORE!
Mima: (Modern Slave Intro)
They’d been outside on the auction block for nearly two hours. The makeup they had caked on each of the women’s faces was beginning to melt away from the heat, the sweat, the close quarters back behind the stage they’d auctioned them all on. She’d been bought, of course. This morning when they were shoving them all into Victoria’s Secret lingerie and putting enough makeup and hairspray on them to swear they were prostitutes, her ‘helper’ had said “You’ve got a good shape, Mima, you’ll make a good sell.” She did. There was no hiding it, especially in a red lace Corset, black garter belt and fishnet thigh highs. Her double Ds were perked up all the way to her shoulders by the time they laced her in that thing. Her long blonde locks curled and curled again and again so that even in the humidity they looked like a 1980s prostitute, completely with blue eye shadow and red lips. Still, she’d sold rather quickly, for a good price. Her auctioneer would be buying diamonds for his wife while she was about to be tied in the back of someone’s truck or SUV and taken home to do who-knows-what for who-knows-who.
Mima Audrelle Stanton hadn’t always been this way. She’d come from an ok family, middle-class, grew up in the southern USA. She was your regular southern belle beauty pageant queen until she turned nineteen. She’d gone to Vegas, ran up a gambling debt before she realized it, and now she was here. She’d done everything they’d asked of her the servitude, the favors, even let them pimp her out for a week or two, but if she’d learned anything from this, it was what happens in Vegas definitely doesn’t stay in Vegas. One night she was Mima Stanton, college student, the next she was Miss Candy Cane, strip tease extraordinaire. They’d drugged her drink the night they shipped her out, and she’d woken up in a crate with five other girls who ended up here, in this God forsaken place and had just sold their souls and didn’t get one iota of the profit.
One of the ‘keepers’ shoved her out of the pen, saying her buyer was here to retrieve her. She snapped at them, attempting to take a chunk of flesh, but they dodged and threatened her with a gag. Her bright white teeth shone against the dull green piece of cloth stuck in her mouth and held behind her neck by the ‘keeper.’ “Here she is…pretty as a picture…but you might wanna keep this on her, she bites.” He gave a wink to the man standing there as Mima shook her head violently, trying to free herself from the gag.
Demons light versus dark
He glared, squinting in the brightness, thinking it should have at least been dark down in the dungeons to give some relief, but it was not. His teeth were gritted, upper lip in an almost snarl, still finding himself better off than she even in the state. The unbearable heat caused a beaded circlet of perspiration on his brow. His dark wavy locks fell into the sweat, making him look somehow more sinister with his disheveled state. He was normally quite well-groomed, but in the tussle his shirt and trousers had been ripped; he feared it would not be the worst of what was to come. He was not afraid of this woman who stood before him. Women were weak, inferior, and she could never break him, of that he was certain. He suspected she would try her feminine wiles to entice evidence out of him, and when he did not succumb, perhaps whips, chains, other torturous instruments and finally words, insults, unthinkable blasphemies against him and his tribe. It would not bend him. His will was strong.
He lifted his deep brown eyes to her, as if to challenge her very existence in the room. If daggers could emerge from them, in that moment, they would have. His look was piercing, straight, and penetrating, intent on focusing his energy against her. He surveyed her: her black attire and swept back hair. If the situation were reversed he would have torn the pants from her and had his way with her, but it was not. He was her prisoner, at least for the moment, a moment she would regret in the near future, he was sure. His lips curled to a slight smile, thinking of the things he could do to her, to punish her, to make her rue the day she had been sent down to be his questioner, his interrogator, his torturess. She would rue the day. He could promise her that.
He spat at her, signifying his distaste for her being chosen as interrogator. “Your tribe is so weak they send women to do their work,” he nearly hissed, his voice thick, deep and accented in some strange, foreign way. It was almost as if he were intentionally disguising his voice, but one could not be completely sure. His eyes shot back up at her, then he smirked, “they send a whore to ask me for information. How suiting of your type.”
