H O P E

“You got a master to hold your tray and then left?” Cassie asked, an eyebrow raising as her gaze followed the woman’s pointed finger. It seemed unlikely–what poor sap would actually take the tray?–but there was the abandoned tray, just where she was pointing. “Huh,” Cassie said, very intelligently, and then: “Good for you. Ballsy.”

She couldn’t deny she was pleased to have earned even that slight twitch of the slave’s lips. It was clear already that this one had attitude; earning her genuine amusement was probably a feat to be proud of. Her own lips turned up in a sly smile in answer, arms held out at her sides in a shrug. “What can I say, I’m full of good ideas. Like, say–if you go get that tray refilled with whatever non-alcoholic beverage you desire, at my request, then we can go make the most of them.”

“They’re simple-minded”, Freya shrugged and left intentionally open whether that statement included the other or not. At least she hadn’t been the one who stood there with a tray, dumbfounded. “I think I did him a favour, made him think… Maybe.”

It was a rare occasion that she allowed herself to exchange so many nice words with another Mistress, in part due to the nature of this event. It was clear that despite her refusal to work and serve them, chances were high that she could not avoid them completely. “Hm, I usually don’t do that with the likes of you…”, the blonde trailed off thoughtfully but proceeded to nod. “but I know it will be a damn long day if I decline” Therefore, she swung around to collect the empty tray from the bar and promptly asked the bartender for a refill. “Whatever, mate. Just get some drinks on here”, Freya confirmed and watched the poor man fulfil her request, even if not without incredulous looks. Much to her own surprise, the woman had not run off either. What in the world had driven her to spend time with her of all people? She supposed she could ask herself the same question. “I’m back”, the girl announced. “With drinks. Let’s get the fuck out of here, please”

“I’m making virtue out of vice.” He said with a smirk. “The first days those really felt like hell… I seriously thought of quitting, but… it is worth fighting for certain things so…” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled again. He watched her, tilting his head, with that floral collar and chuckled happily. “You’re right.. but you would make almost everything look boring confronting it to you… But I still don’t think floral could be my thing you know? I wouldn’t really look good with flowers all around.” He had a glimpse of what he would look like all surrounded by flowers and chuckled even more, with his cigarette between his lips. “I trust you. I’m in your hands, little flower.” He closed his eyes and the only thing he could feel was the light hand of the girl drawing over his body and that made him really smile out loud. “You have a really nice touch. I might let you draw even flowers on me with time.” When she finished he opened his eyes and looked at the drawing. “That’s cool! As long as it doesn’t mean something bad, I think I might keep it… but you might wanna come along and redraw it from time to time..” 

“While I understand your resentment,” she said softly. “It’s best not to fight whatever goes on at these things.” She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s just me, though. But I’m not going to command you to do anything,” she assured her. She ran her hand through her hair. “I’m Margeaux,” she said softly. “I’m a professor here. I come to these things to see if I can make them more bearable for those who don’t have friends in high places,” she said, offering her a small smile.

“So, everything stays the same?”, Freya retorted in challenge. “I’m not about that. They can force me to be here, but I will make damn sure that they’d rather I wasn’t” This wasn’t by far the worst event, though it was a good one to send a signal. She knew it would take some time but she hoped that one day, maybe more would join her on this quest. “Right… I’m not trying to be cheeky now but if you wanted to make a difference, you wouldn’t be here”, she told her then. “The fewer Masters and Mistresses, the better”  

Tugging at the fabric collar that wrapped around the thick leather one, Jackson’s lips settled into a scowl as he watched the party goers. Trying not to think too hard about the eventual conclusion of the event, and what that might mean for him, Jackson had managed to be given a tray of drinks to serve, though so far he’d only managed to serve himself to three of them as he loitered off to the side, hoping to go unnoticed as long as possible. 

Jackson was sucking back his fourth drink when the woman’s voice caught his attention, her defiance causing him to lift a brow. He chuckled as her bold statement had the master scurrying off–he must have been one of the more timid ones. 

“You know,” Jackson slipped the empty flute onto his tray as he stepped away from the wall and joined the woman, “not all of them are bad you know–I mean don’t get me wrong, most of them are fucking terrible, but someone like that, I bet you could’ve gotten whatever you wanted from that guy.” 

@freyalund​

“You know”, Freya turned as she heard someone speak to her nearby, smile gracing her features as she turned his words against him. “They really are. Sure, there is a spectrum, but it ranges from bad to absolutely fucking terrible. I don’t really tolerate any of it” But her voice had lost its edge somewhat. She wasn’t here to argue with someone on her side. Those were the people she wanted to see united.

“Maybe… There was potential. Maybe I could have played with him a little”, the girl trailed off then as if to weigh up her options.  “But I doubt I could have gotten from him anything meaningful. He wouldn’t have left this island, for example” Freya bit her lip and watched the other man’s expression. She knew she was dreaming big. It only lacked others who dared to do the same. “But it seems I’m not the only one… slacking”, she chuckled and looked at him playfully. “Are you gonna get me a drink too? We could go somewhere”

Finn had already adjusted the front of his shirt multiple times since the start of the party. Discomfort couldn’t even fully describe what he was feeling, but he did his best to ignore it. Picking up a newly set tray, he nodded politely every time someone grabbed the bit of finger food off of it and returned for a new one when everything was gone. When he’d lost count of how many trays he had carried, he stood off to the side for a short breather. Glancing around, his attention was drawn to the female not too far from him. Based on their outfit, he knew that it was a fellow server and from what he could hear of the conversation, she wasn’t all that happy. Finn winced at her words, instantly worried that she would be punished by the person she was talking to, but to his relief, the person simply walked away. Shortly, he made his way toward the female and spoke in a quiet voice, “Um, hey, are you okay?”    

Freya had barely noticed the male until she was spoken to and the reason for her ignorance was blatantly obvious. His posture, his expression, the way he spoke… All of it made her want to transfer some of her confidence to him. If only that was so easy! “Not really, no” Yet her expression softened as she spoke to him. She held no grudge against her fellow slaves. Quite the opposite, they were the reason why she dared make such a fuzz. “Everything about this event doesn’t sit well with me” She put her tray aside on a nearby table. “You’re probably busy serving them, right? You must be doing lots because of me…”, she realized suddenly and then shook her head. “No, you should stop that, really. We shouldn’t be doing this”  

Maybe he’d feel different at some point, but he wasn’t going to start complaining about his accommodations when he had a bed to sleep in.  Technically he had food, even if it was gross - but it was free and it kept him full.  He knew he’d change his mind at some point, but right now he was okay.  And he wasn’t going to complain about the ample access to sex.  The annoying part was while he wanted to keep his nose clean for a little, he was very easy to convince into light debauchery.  “I’m a simple man,” he smirked, kneeling down to grab at a backpack under his bed, rifling through its contents in the dark.  “What are the odds these are locked with magic?”  Dylan pulled a lockpick device out from the backpack and looked back and forth down the hall for some time before he unlocked the outside.  

The lock clicked open and he slowly opened the door, expecting it to be somewhat quiet - and flinching at the loud creak.  A flashlight turned on at the end of the cell block and he muttered an urgent:  “Run,” before bolting down the hall.

Freya couldn’t say whether the boy was serious about not minding the whole collar-and-cell deal. Maybe he didn’t want to whine to a stranger or maybe he didn’t know better, but she hoped that he was bluffing. “Simple, hm?” The girl rose a brow and was about to retort something cheeky as she realised what was going on. And as she did, she turned and ran like a cheetah, just as he instructed. Did he know this was going to happen? – Didn’t matter.

“Fuck”, the blonde exhaled sharply as they found a safe corner. The room became increasingly more illuminated, sending yet another shot of adrenaline up her spine, though it seemed that the guard was at least confused about their whereabouts. And Freya could not suppress her grin. “That was a bloody good job, dude”, she complimented with a quiet voice. “I think I underestimated you” – at least until they got back. There would certainly be someone waiting for them.

“Well are you not technically here to to serve? You are dressed as a server and the collar sort of means you are school’s property and have to do what you are told,” he said with a boyish shrug of his shoulders. “Not that I am here to order you around and make commands. I just wanted to know where could I get one of those tiny sandwiches.”

“And I am not. What does that make me?”, she returned with a shrug and a smile that matched his. “Kitchen is out the main door and around the corner. It’ll be obvious where the knifes and the bread are but staff should still be around to help”, Freya added but then allowed a smile to slip in. “Or just grab one from someone else’s tray. But the tiny sandwiches suck. They’re not enough to keep you full. I’d say they were designed for you to be hungry and to keep nagging us slaves”

“Who said anything about serving?” Damien smirked. “I come to these things out of pure curiosity. Plus, it’s an excuse to get out and about,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He sighed just a bit and smirked a little at her. “I don’t do well with the whole commanding thin. I mean, unless someone wants to be commanded,” he said with a light chuckle, before holding out a hand towards her. “Truce?” he teased. 

“Pure curiosity for what? I’ve seen you on enough of those parties, so we both should know they don’t change”, Freya pointed out. Maybe it was his stature, maybe the tattoos but he was one of the Master she knew who was on this island at least as long as she was. “I don’t do truce”, the girl said then, shrugging as she eyed his hand. “But we don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. I don’t hate you, not more than the others, anyway”

Though Cassie’s eyebrows arched when the other woman cut her off, but she held her tongue until she was finished, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of her lips. She had been on the island long enough now to understand that this was not an unusual response to being approached by someone without a collar, but that didn’t make the assumption that she’d been about to deliver some kind of order feel any less–well. Silly.

Hands in the pockets of her trousers, she waited a moment before speaking, and then: “Actually, mate, I was just gonna tell you you’re about to step on a tulip.” One hand came out of her pocket and took the other woman’s arm, guiding her a step to the left, out of flower-stomping range. Her touch didn’t linger, the hand going back into her pocket. “But now that you mention it, I could use a drink. Aren’t you supposed to have a tray or something? What, did you drink them all yourself and ditch it? That’s what I would have done, can’t blame you.”

Whether the woman came to command or pity her was irrelevant. This was precisely why she had precisely cut her off when she was not more than half a sentence in.   Freya needed to let them know that she was not your typical slave; and them included both her and the remainder of the collar-less population. But deep down, the blonde was glad that the Mistress did not make much of a fuss. Most of the heads turned away again as they realized there was not much to see. She looked at the other expectantly, her expression only fading as she was guided away from her original spot.

“Tray is over there”, she said more quietly now and pointed at the bar. “Told a Master to hold it for me. Guess he got sick of it and left it at the counter” There were still some glasses left on it. Most people probably assumed that a slave left it there for a refill. “I want to be conscious for whatever happens tonight”, she admitted then, lips twitching upwards only slightly. “But I can’t deny I should have taken some. You shouldn’t give me ideas”  

“I highly doubt that.” He replied without hesitation. “Maybe it’s my fault. When I arrived here I was taken aback by the sole existence of a place like this. I always thought I could never end up in hell and yet…” He shrugged, leaving the sentence there halfway before he turned around to throw a very meaningful look at her. “I really think we all close up in a shell when we arrive. For protection. And we gravitate around the ones we feel safe around. it’s survival instinct. Human thing possibly. But in the last days I’ve experienced a new kind of instinct. Lifted my head a bit.” He took out a pack of smokes and lit one, laying down over the grass and looked up at the sky. He felt the peace of that moment and closed his eyes, almost smiling around the cigarette. Then he slid his hand in his pocket and took out a pen and offered it to her. “While I don’t think I’d look good in a collar with flowers, maybe you’d like to draw something on me?” He said. “I think I have some space over my shoulders. I’d really like to see what you’d draw on me.” He opened his blue eyes and looked in hers, puffing out a ring of smoke and lifting his sleeve to uncover his shoulder. “You shouldn’t keep to yourself from now on.” He added. 

“You don’t look like you’re in hell”, Fae pointed out with a hint of a smile. There was no doubt that his appearance did not reflect what he really thought about this place. She would be baffled to find out that someone would choose this life. “That’s why I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you before” The blonde relaxed too as Evander closed his eyes. She had not been much better than the rest of them. Whether it was for the lack of drive, or to process her surroundings, it had taken her a little over a year to break out of her hibernation. “You could paint it however you like. It would be boring otherwise”, Fae returned matter-of-factly, but his comment had her thinking. She reached out to touch the revealed space with her fingers first. “Okay…”, she mused thoughtfully. “Do you trust me?” It took several minutes for her to come up with something suitable, and she took this time to observe him. Play or not, the girl took the task surprisingly seriously and wanted to come up with something that represented his character and that connected him to her. The rings of smoke he blew were the inspiration she needed. “Done”, she smiled eventually. “You probably can’t see it now, can you? I’ll tell you what it means at some point… If you like it, of course”