|| Age of Anarchy || Closed, but stalkers welcome || PG-13ish || OxO

(Starters are always a bit rocky, but here's my attempt.)

The Merchant, Saul Conlan, was pleased with his purchase, though he hoped it was worth the tremendous amount of cash he'd been forced to fork over. But, good slaves were hard to come by, and if this young man– whom the seller had referred to simply as Fox– was anything like the records said or like his tattoos implied, he would likely take no losses. And the fact that Fox was so heavily bound implied that he was dangerous, which was what Saul was hoping for.

And Sawyer was indeed dangerous, though he didn't really look it as he slinked obediently after his new master, who tugged him along by what was essentially a leash. A thick leather strap served as a makeshift collar to which the leash was attached, and his wrists were bound together with a thick rope. To top it all off, he was forced to wear a muzzle of sorts. None of these things really bothered him anymore, considering that he'd been treated like this for the past fourteen years and that nearly every slave– even the children who weren't remotely dangerous– were done the same. Then again, the masters were simply taking precautions, because in some places, if a slave were to escape and hurt anyone, the slave's owner would be completely responsible for the damages and would have to pay the dues. Nobody wanted to risk that.

They made their way through the market currently set up by the Merchants who were looking for deals. The market was packed with slave traders, weapons dealers, armor salesmen, people selling horses or pack-animals, and even butchers trying to sell meats. Good meat was expensive nowadays, and most people didn't care what kind it was so long as it was meat, so it was a good business to get into.

But Saul preferred the slave trade.

(That’s a hecking crisp starter.)
Ayano angrily cut a tomato. She was always a bit angry because of her parents, but more so today, over her ridiculous outfit. She never got to choose what she wore, and it wasn’t like she’d never had to wear this stuff. But, why would anyone want to wear a dress as a servant? Much less a short and frilly one, and it wasn’t even a good colour or for the weather.
She sighed and stopped herself before she completely smashed up the tomato. She’d really get to hear it if she ruined something like this.
At the sound of water boiling, Ayano quickly stopped and ran over to the pot.
It was much more pleasant when Saul wasn’t here. It was quiet, and she felt like she was less pressed to do her chores- which often led to them be completed better. Even if he was only gone for 30 minutes, everything was better. However, him being gone didn’t necessarily stop anyone from showing up. Being a shared servant sucked, there was way too many chores and demands than there should’ve been.
Saul had been gone longer today, Ayano had noticed. It would be nice to know where he went, that way she could plan around how much time she’d have to herself to do her chores and meet all the demands.
“Dammit …!” Ayano nearly shouted, but caught herself in time. She’d over poured the hot water and it spilled over the edge.
She put a bit of the water back into the pot and wiped up the puddle. Hopefully no one would notice the mistake.

(Thank you, thank you! Yours is good, too. I love your writing style.)

Saul had been gone later than usual, but he returned about that time with his prize in tow. In most cases, he probably would've snapped at Ayano for not having enough finished by now, but his deal-of-the-day had him in a pretty good mood, so he stayed off her back for now.
Well, sort of. He eyed the sliced tomato when he arrived, still pulling Sawyer along like a subjective dog.
"Whatever you make, make extra today," Saul said to Ayano. "I have an extra mouth to feed today." He wasn't about to starve his new possession.

Ayano quickly glanced back as Saul returned. She immediately realized why he had been gone longer today, another tool had been bought.
“Yes, Master.” Ayano bowed her head and returned to her chores.
It was horrible that someone had been yet again bought, and they looked a lot worse than Ayano had ever seen. Though she had a sense of relief from Saul buying someone else today, first because he would probably be in a good mood, and second because this would decrease the amount of ‘feedback’ she’d normally receive.
She brought out another tomato, if she managed to cut this one nicely then she probably should give it to Saul instead. She’d need to boil more water now too, she never boiled more than necessary so she didn’t waste the water. Plus, Saul never told her what he went to do, and barely was she told there would be more people around in time for her to prepare.

Sawyer did look rough. Even aside from being bound as much as he was, he was covered in scars– and kind of dirty, truth be told. But even more than that was the hollow look he had, the somewhat empty aura he gave off, as if he had nothing left to live for yet lacked the motivation to die, either.
Saul either didn't notice or didn't care. Quite possibly both. He lingered a moment, as if trying to decide where to put Sawyer. Clearly Saul wasn't going to keep him here, and he wasn't going to eat with Sawyer. No, no, no. Sawyer was a slave, and Saul wasn't here to make friends. Being a man who dealt with slaves fairly often, he had places specifically for this– to be perfectly frank, cages. So he disappeared momentarily, tugging the young man along with him, and leaving him in one of the slave pens– which was essentially like that of a chain-link dog kennel, except larger and made for people (therefore having both a roof and being nearly impenetrable). And, just for extra measures, he made sure Sawyer was tied-up inside as well.
He came back then, carrying with him the little lock box filled with hand-written notes concerning Sawyer's history and all of the information one would need to know about their newly-purchased slave assassin.
"Once you finish that up, you can take the food out to him," Saul said to Ayano upon returning. He dropped the box down onto a rickety wooden table and hummed out-of-tune to himself whilst he opened it and looked over some of the notes. "Just take care that he doesn't get out, or it'll be on you. He's supposed to be dangerous." He added this last part casually, and he seemed to have little or no problem with sending her out to feed the possibly dangerous new assassin man he'd just bought at the market. After all, it wasn't like Saul had a reason to care. She wasn't valuable to him. Sawyer only was because of his monetary value. "He won't get out as long as you're not stupid with it, though. Just make sure you lock the door back and take the muzzle off of him."
This is probably not the first time he has told her to feed one of his slaves for him, but it's likely the first time he's asked her to interact with a potentially dangerous one.

Ayano really only half-listened to Saul, but made it seem like she was very invested. Everyone here was dangerous in their own way, at least, that was how it seemed to her.
The tomato turned out, as expected, better than the previous one. Ayano debated not giving it to Saul, but knew she should always play a safe card.
She’d finished piecing together two tomato sandwiches. Supposedly, green tea would compliment the flavour of the tomato. Though Ayano didn’t really trust the tea Saul had, but he was ultimately the one who had bought. Or it could have been a gift, not that it mattered.
She let the tea steep as long as she dared, not wanting to make Saul wait and ruin his ‘good mood’. She carefully put everything onto a tray, if she spilled anything now- she’d definitely be found out.
“Please be careful, the tea is still hot.” Ayano tried to get out of there as quickly as possible, and hoped that Saul was too engrossed in whatever he was reading to notice her.
Ayano made it out to the slave pens though, and let out a sigh. A breath she didn’t know she was holding.
She placed the tray onto the ground and opened up the gate, “Come here so I can take your muzzle off.”

Saul didn't even bother looking up from his papers when she spoke, merely responding with a gruff, "Mhm."

Sawyer was sitting on the ground in the back of the pen with his legs crossed Indian-style when she arrived. He got up when she spoke, sniffing absently and not even bothering to brush the dust off of his pants. Though, that was partially because his hands were mostly bound, anyways. He didn't usually speak unless expected to respond– and he made no exception here, at the sight of this girl. Though, he did look at her curiously, walking over as she requested. He assumed she was a slave of some kind– seemed fairly obvious considering the fact that she referred to the man inside as master and had been preparing the meal for him.

“You must have suffered a lot,” Ayano said as she stepped forward to undo the muzzle. “It sucks being a slave. And it’s much worse when you have more than one master.”
Ayano slipped the clasp of the muzzle over her fingers and picked up the tray.
The man before her looked like he had been sold countless times, and punished countless times. They were a very lifeless figure, someone who had given up on living entirely.
Ayano had chosen to go a big crazy than to lose the ability to be happy. If only she’d ended up crazy enough to get rid of Saul, then she too, could meet an end.
Saul had said he was dangerous, right? He’s probably killed people then. Maybe … an assassin? If the world worked a bit better, he could kill Saul- better yet, Ayano could get back at her parents. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?
“Would it be alright if I spoke to you for a bit?”

Sawyer gave a small nod. "Yes." He glanced past her once, as if to see if anyone else was in sight, but there wasn't anyone else. Just a precautionary measure. Although he didn't presume anything suspicious would be discussed, he'd encountered previous masters who had been against slaves conversing with anyone else, and he dared not arouse the anger of this new master within minutes of having been bought. Truth be told, he was just a bit paranoid.
He returned his attention back to the young woman in front of him, his expression unreadable as he looked at her. "You are a slave?" he inquired slowly. He'd never been one for talking, much less to ask questions, but he was curious. And he hoped that such a question wasn't overstepping his boundaries.

Ayano held the tray a bit tighter, still needing to untie the mans hands- not wanting to feed him herself.
“I suppose I am a slave, a comfort tool, a ‘caretaker’ perhaps.”
All she could offer for now was a bit of kindness to the new slave, getting back at her parents was too much to hope for but it would be nice to think she’d have a chance.
They seemed paranoid, and rightfully so. But Saul wouldn’t be moving around for a while, it would just depend on the other Merchant members and if they so decided to visit.
It gave Ayano a bit of a melancholy happiness that there was someone new to talk to, that also wasn’t just there to give her more work. For the first while she’d been here, she had been tricked quite a bit. Tricked by people who told her they’d be friends or they’d help her, only to be taken advantage of. Tricked by the promise of being let go from her services, just to make her work harder.
“My name is Ayano by the way.”

"Comfort tool," Sawyer repeated under his breath, as if considering the implications of such a term. So she was a slave, of sorts. Maybe not the kind that killed people, but… a slave was a slave, nonetheless.
Unfortunately for Sawyer, he didn't feel anything at the prospect of talking to another slave. His masters usually had other slaves or workers. Sometimes they talked to him; sometimes they didn't. It never meant anything before, and he didn't expect this time to be much different. Nonetheless, he didn't get the opportunity for conversation often, and it did give him something to think about rather than to just mull over his current state or patiently await the day of his eventual death.
"Hello, Ayano," he responded following her introduction. "My name usually changes depending on whoever my owner is, so currently I don't have one." He doesn't usually refer to himself by his original name– Sawyer– except for in his mind or if he's asked. He doesn't mind using it, but generally people don't tend to care what his real name was.

He was one of those nameless slaves … That was another annoying thing. It really showed that everything about you was owned by your Master.
Ayano bent down and placed the tea and sandwich onto the ground.
“Well, you must have been properly named something at some point. You know? Like your birth name, original name?”
Ayano wanted to learn as much as she could while he was here. She’d never know how long someone be around for, so knowledge held value to her. As well as for other members who would come and visit to get her to take on extra work. They liked to know what everyone was up to, and she couldn’t refuse to tell them in case it was dramatized.
Now, what kind of knot were his hands tied in? Well, that question didn’t really need to be asked. There was barely a variety of knots used on the slaves.
She held up the man’s hands, analyzing the best way to remove this knot. Having your hands tied up tightly was painful, and having the knot peeled off your skin? Horrible. She quickly pulled apart the knot, possibly with the hope that she’d reduce the strain, then that rope was also hung over her finger.

Of course, having the coarse rope peeled off of his wrists was painful, but none of that registered on Sawyer's face. His expression remained blank, though his wrists were rubbed raw, looking red and excoriated from having his hands tied more often than not, the rough rope constantly chafing against his skin. It had to hurt. It did hurt. But it took more than that to get a reaction of him these days. Besides, the leather collar chafed his neck nearly as much, and the muzzle did the same to his jaw. He was more than used to it.
"Well, yes. My parents called me Sawyer," he responded slowly. "But since then I've had many other names." He looked at her for a short moment. "Is Ayano your original name?"

Sawyer, huh? So he does have a name.
Ayano looked down at Sawyer’s wrists. They were red and raw, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had no power to make anything better, and she would never know if it was worth it in the end.
She blinked, “I think so. My, uh … parents might’ve wanted to call me something else, but I don’t remember much about it. I’ve been called Ayano most of my life, so I just went with it. Master also could’ve been the one to pick my name, even before I was born.”
When was the last time she’d said the word ‘parents’? It felt very strange on her tongue, it wasn’t worth it to use that kind of word for them. Strangers would sound a bit better.
She was only here because of them, she probably hadn’t been named by them either. Everything that was a part of her life was probably chosen by Saul too. How disgustingly disappointing it was.

Sawyer nodded slightly in understanding. "I see." He seemed unmoved by this, though it wasn't that he didn't care. It was just that for the past fourteen years of his life, his original name had never really been used to refer to him, even if they knew what his real name was. Ninety percent of slave traders either didn't give their slaves names, referred to them using the types of names you'd often give to animals, or used derogatory terms. Fox had been one of the best names he'd had in awhile. And he'd met plenty of nameless slaves, or slaves who had never had a true name. He always cared. He was just too numb to show it. Like seeing someone with a cut on their face. The first time, you might be concerned abd sympathetic, but after you've met hundreds upon hundreds of people with the same cut, you realize you can no longer let your heart break for each of them. At least not something so small in comparison to the other wounds they likely had.
"My original name doesn't carry any relevance anymore," he commented dully, though it carried relevance in his mind. It was the only part of himself he could try to cling to, even if he'd already given it up in the eyes of most. "I'll likely receive a new name from this new master soon enough." He blinked a few times, his eyes narrowing only slightly as he thought. "This master. He is a slave dealer?"

“Yes, he is. There’s usually a few faces around here, and visitors. Everyone is swapped out a lot. Though it looks like you’ll be staying around longer, since you got food today.”
Ayano wished she could remember everyone’s name, all the different faces she’d seen here. Of course, she never learned everyone’s ‘name’ here and her conversations were a bit more one-sided. But she wanted to remember their faces, she wanted to give them hope. Obviously not directly though- that was a death wish right there.
All the other slaves got starved when they were here too. Ayano was sure Saul was wealthy enough, but then again, why would he feed any of them if they’d only be here for a few days at most? Even Ayano, who would be here for probably ever, was only allowed to eat once, in the morning.
Sawyer being given food on day one gave Ayano a bit of hope though. There’d someone else around for now.

"Oh." Sawyer glanced down at the tray on the ground, though he didn't pick it up or approach it yet. He hadn't eaten in over forty-eight hours, so to say that he was hungry would've been an understatement. "I may eat, then?" Yes, she was another slave of sorts, therefore maybe he didn't necessarily require her permission– but it was habitual of him to ask. In order to ensure obedience, he had been trained at a young age not to do anything without permission from some higher authority. Their methods to teach him this involved locking him in a cage with food in front of him, but he was instructed not to touch it unless told to. If he tried to eat without being granted permission, he was promptly beaten and the command to abstain from eating was repeated. He was kept like this for several days, until he thought he might just starve to death, until he almost dared to try again at the risk of being pummeled into the dust, but finally, they relented, and he was allowed. They repeated this tactic until he no longer did anything without being instructed to.
Since there was no other higher authority for him to ask, he chose to inquire of her, however odd that may have seemed considering the fact that she had obviously brought it for him. Then again, this was a common practice among any slave considered dangerous, as masters needed to ensure 100% obedience.

Ayano gave a bit of a sad smile at Sawyer’s words.
“Go ahead. I should go now, but I’ll be back to collect the dishes and to probably tie you up again.”
Ayano stepped back and closed the door. It felt horrible leaving anyone out here, or at least in a cage and chained up. Though to her, getting to sleep anywhere inside, was a punishment.
She left the rope and muzzle in front of the cage and went to continue her chores.
Luckily she found Saul still reading, though it looked like he would be done soon. There were no visitors either, which was a good thing.
She quickly took Saul’s dishes and returned to wash them as well as all the other things she used.
Was there really nothing she could do? She could at least use a wash cloth to clean Sawyer up a bit or something to soothe his wrists. It just would never be fair, would it?

"Okay. Goodbye." Sawyer sat down on the ground again as she left, pulling the tray closer to himself. He didn't really mind being in a cage or being chained up. Well– of course he did mind, but it wasn't like he had a say in the matter, and he was so numbed by now that only being bound by cages and chains was usually an improvement in comparison to his usual conditions.

"How'd he act?" Saul asked dully, not even bothering to glance up from his papers. There were quite a few of them, but he was trying his best to scan over them quickly. The only reason he bothered to ask Ayano anything was because he was curious as to whether or not the new slave was on as good behavior as they said he was.

Ayano flinched when Saul spoke, but she was glad it was a simple question.
“Well-behaved. They won’t do anything without permission and put up no resistance.”
Ayano needed to say something that answered his question but was quick and straightforward. Even if it was an easy question, she’d need to say the exact, right thing, which was rather stressful.
She hoped that her answer was what Saul wanted to hear, and went back to washing all the dishes.
Now, what else needed to be done today? She’d finished up the few demands from early this morning. So, it would mainly be cleaning and then later making the last meal of the day for Saul. Then hopefully getting some kind of sleep, and then getting her meal. Unless someone else came in randomly and needed something.

"Good. That's what they said he'd do," Saul muttered, sloppily stacking the papers he'd been reading and putting them back inside the case. "You finish your chores then and go back out to make sure he's not doing anything stupid." He paused, working his jaw back and forth thoughtfully. "Might oughta get a wet cloth and clean up his face and stuff. Nothing too thorough. Just so he don't look so rough. Check and see if he's got any wounds that could get infected and make sure they're treated good. I'll probably get a medic to come give him a thorough check later."

“Yes, Master.” She said, then scrubbed the plate a bit more vigorously. Though one would never say they were envious of a slave, Sawyer was really getting some good treatment today. Just being cared for, even for a moment, in any kind of way, meant a whole lot here.
She picked up a towel, now needing to dry and put away all the dishes. This was even more stressful than worrying about breaking a dish while washing it. Especially since she could drop a dish on the floor, which would really set off her day and give her even more work.
Past the small envy Ayano had, she was glad for Sawyer. He’d probably been through all of this kind of stuff anyway, but she understood how it felt when you were cleaned up just a bit. That kind of feeling was like no other, in this world with no love and no freedom, where only your anger can warm your heart.

Saul was quiet for several long seconds, as if he were thinking. "Imma go back out for a bit. There's some more stuff I gotta do. Make sure all of those chores are done by the time I get back, would ya? And keep an eye on the new guy when you can." Saul knew good and well they'd never get Sawyer back if he got out. And if they did, it would be a lot of trouble and stress. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. He shouldn't, but you never know. I'll be sending Gus down to give me an estimate and tell me whether or not I got ripped off. If he shows up, show him this." He patted the case with Sawyer's papers in it.
Gus was known for being one of the wealthiest slave-dealers around, and most people considered him an expert when it came to matters like this. Personality wise, he was an odd case– not as angry or irritable as guys like Saul, but sometimes creepier in that he was too laid-back for a guy who sold other human beings for a living.

Ayano looked back for a moment, making sure she knew which case was important.
“Yes, Master.”
If Saul was going out again for a ‘bit’, that could be anywhere from between 30 minutes to 2 hours. He was also going to send Gus here, which was okay. Gus was a bit more manageable to be around, but there was something off about him.
However, now Ayano had a intangible time limit so she’d need to hurry up. For now she could just clean the main rooms, and then all she’d left for the end was the bedroom.
Before she’d finish with all the dishes she decided she could probably collect Sawyer’s. But she’d wait a few minutes after Saul left, since she needed it to look like she was really into her cleaning.

(Sorry! I've been on hiatus)

Saul sniffed absently before disappearing through the door again, headed God-only-knew where. One never really knew with that man.
Gus was a different story. Saul was a middle-aged, broad-shouldered, muscular man with a bit of a gut and shaved-short hair. He was intimidating, but he wasn't remotely endearing.
Augustus– better known as Gus– was odd in that he was far younger than Saul– not even quite thirty years old yet– and had already become the greatest slave dealer around. He with more appealing features– an angular face, with sea-green eyes, and short, well-kept stubble that usually lined his jaw. He was lean and well muscled, with tattoos snaking his solid arms, and his dark chocolate-brown hair was usually tugged back into a slick ponytail. His outfit was generally the same– sleeveless shirt, loose jacket, beige cargo pants, a belt with a variety of utilities on it, and a bandanna around his neck. He carried a whip with him just about everywhere he went, because he was a slave dealer, after all.
And this is precisely how he would look when he arrived today, too.

(It’s all good. No worries!)
~
As soon as Ayano was sure Saul was gone, she rushed quickly about, making sure she got the medical kit and the cleanest cloth and water she could. She couldn’t waste a single moment, especially if Gus was getting here.
She wouldn’t know how long he’d be here for and she needed to finish everything before Saul got back. Though, she knew she probably wouldn’t have enough time to treat any wounds Sawyer might have.
The best she could hope for right now … was that she’d get to clean him up a bit and take his dishes.
Ayano pushed the door to the slave pens open, her heart pounding louder and faster because of her rushing about.
She could probably just put the medical kit next to the cages, to make it more convenient for her. She’d just have to make it in and out before anyone showed up, since she also really didn’t want to have to clean Sawyer with Gus there.
Much to her disappointment, Ayano listened to more footsteps, knowing Gus was already here.
It would be annoying to try and keep everything she did quiet, and who knew how long she’d have. If she spent too long trying to be quiet, then Saul could be back and she’d really hear it.

Sawyer was sitting on the ground next to his empty dishes when Ayano arrived, and his gaze snapped up to meet hers. He must've noticed that she was in a rush, because his brow furrowed slightly. He started to say something, but he cut himself off at the sound of footsteps that marked the arrival of a tall man Sawyer had seen at the market before.
Gus was one of the few people left in the country who actually owned a vehicle. As old and rusty as it was, it ran just fine, which was how he'd managed to get here not too long after Saul's departure. He was accompanied by two hired men– or were they slaves?
Definitely slaves, considering the unmistakable branding marks seared onto each of their left cheeks. But apparently they were pretty obedient slaves, because he didn't have them bound or chained, yet they followed him anyway. That was impressive, considering one of them was 6'5 and looked like he could wrestle a bear and win.
Gus started to the front door first, but he must've heard the gate to the slave pens open, because he redirected himself that way, humming lightly as he strolled over to them.
"Ah, there you are." Whether he was referring to Ayano or Sawyer was unclear, but the fact that he sounded far too lax and far too friendly for Sawyer's taste stood firm. "Good afternoon, love."
This in itself was normal behavior for Gus. He called every woman love, and and he called just about every man gent. It tended to make people either comfortable or uncomfortable to one extreme or the other, and he personally enjoyed both.

Ayano quickly turned to face Augustus, and bowed her head in greeting.
What would she do now? She could just leave everything here and take the dishes. She couldn’t get in his way and she needed to get everything else done. She also had to get that box, probably with Sawyer’s paper, for Gus now too, since he’d shown up. So she could take the dishes out of the way, and then get the papers.
That seemed like the best option, to get everything out of the way and get out of there. Everything needed to be done before Saul returned, which also meant tending to Sawyer. He’d also said that he would send a medic, but who knew when that would happen.
So, following the best course of action, she set everything down out of the way, and quickly picked up the tray of dishes.
“I’ll go get the papers for you.”
Ayano bowed her head again, and went to get the case that Saul had pointed out.

"Alrighty," Gus responded, inviting himself into Sawyer's pen. "Hello there, gent."
Sawyer didn't respond, but rather just eyed the stranger.
One of Gus's men carried a clipboard with him with a bunch of loose papers sloppily clipped to it. That would be where the evaluation would be recorded, since that's what Gus was here to do. Evaluate Sawyer and determine how much he was worth, whether or not Saul got a good deal– and, if he didn't, how to improve his slave in order to increase the value.
Gus waited patiently for Ayano's return, nodding slightly as she brought him the case. "Thank you, thank you– Anaya or something, right?"

She held out the case, “Ayano. Please let me know if you need anything else.”
She dared not make eye contact with anyone other than Augustus, and then, making sure it broke quickly.
Now, it was back to cleaning and hoping Gus would be gone soon. Cleaning could so much easier if Ayano was allowed to use that fancy equipment the rich people had. She wouldn’t have to do everything by hand, bruising up her knees and burning up her skin with whatever things she cleaned with. She didn’t even have gloves.
At least by now, some of the dishes would be a bit dryer. Anything that made cleaning easier was a good thing, no matter how small. Especially since, the less work she had, the faster it could get done, and the safer Ayano could feel. If she could feel safe anyway.