Characters: ALL
Where: The arena
When: Following the end of the storm, evening and into the night
Summary: Gathering those hurt into a safe place, where they can be cared for and checked on by those worried about them.
Notes: Feel free to do many multiple thread lines, focusing on individuals or small groups! The arena is a big area, so no one's
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He even stayed in that calm, relaxed state as she started whispering into his ear much more serious matters to attend to. While Li and the rest of their adopted family was missing, they were still at the mercy of Econtra. They needed a way to stop the people here who were controlling them. A resistance movement... Would that help to stop the Warden and whoever used him as a figurehead?
He cocked his head a bit, allowing his predatory instincts to reopen out of his recent calm. Out of his mouth came two words. "Sacrifice everything."
That was what Lucivar always said when they were both pleasure slaves and under the rule of wicked Queens. That had been the only option for them to be free. And everytime they were free, they couldn't, wouldn't, sacrifice everything. "Could you do that?"
His eyes held a deadly seriousness. "This place isn't like a regular war. We're trapped here physically and there's nowhere to hide. How do you plan to work this movement if those we're against know our every move?"
Daemon was interested. He hated the people who owned them as much as any other person there... But he wasn't entirely sure how it could even be done, especially when he didn't even trust those around him.
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"I can't even begin to count how many pleasure slaves I've seen die from being used so much their inner Self simply snaps like a twig. They don't always die just from that... Some are kept as regular slaves. But those that break get thrown away to die, definitly." Unless of course that pleasure slave was himself. "Myself, though. When I finally snapped after almost two thousand years of torture, instead of breaking and becoming useless, I went cold." A grin spread across his face. "And that scared them all shitless."
He stepped a bit away from Alema, but not too far away so they still had a connection. "I've been tortured, sure. Many times. Only difference between myself and other pleasure slaves who had been tortured was that those who torture me end up conveniently dead the next day."
Daemon reached his hand out and settled it against Alema's cheek. "You want someone who can set traps? I know an incredible amount of tangled webs and enough Black Widow Craft to be as subtle or as obvious as I want with a trap. You tell me what you need, and I'll work on it. You can count on that."
He wasn't even going to explain how much pain he could take. With all the torture he went through with whipping and the Ring of Obedience, he could take a damn huge amount of pain before it would even hurt.
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