Thanks for bumping! Okay. Skellie, coming up!
Name: Match Greenleaf
Appearance: Match has golden-blond hair, which comes down just barely past his ears. He has green eyes, with no hint of brown, grey, or blue in them. They're very green. =D Match is medium height, and wiry built. His facial features aren't especially handsome, but there's something about him that attracts people anyway. (Girls, too... Haha.) Maybe it's his quick, always-ready smile, or his humor. Who knows?
Personality: Match is a really likeable guy. Everyone loves him. He's kind to everyone, clever, witty, and he's a good dancer. (=P) He's talkative. He doesn't even seem to have a bad temper. But- like most people, he does have a failing.
Match isn't very responsible. He doesn't like to take charge of anything big, and he constantly forgets to do things. It all narrows down to two main problems that he has: 1. A short attention span. He can't stay focused on the same thing for very long. 2. He's afraid that he'll fail. Do something stupid. And everyone will stop liking him.
Bio: The second son of a fairly high-ranking lord, Match has been raised in the lap of luxury. He's never known a time when he was starving, thirsty, or unloved. His parents dote on him, but his father thinks he needs to start taking on more responsiblity. Match's surname, "Greenleaf", is completely his own. He earned it from the unique color of his eyes, and his love for the outdoors.
Additional: Match's older brother is in another area of the kingdom, serving as a thane. Match also has a younger sister, who's fourteen. They have a typical love/hate older brother/younger sister relationship, but they really do care for each other.
((How's that? Let's start using parentheses now. ))
((Yay! So where do we start? When Elle is being bought, or after?))
((Hm... haha, those both sound like excellent places to start. But how about we do when Elle is being bought? You can start, if you want! I'm not very good at starting. ))
((K! Sorry, I can't stay long. I really really really need to work on my novel. I didn't write at all yesterday...Bad me. :p))
The iron cage door opened with a bang, and Elle was yanked out and shoved onto the platform. She surveyed the crowd with a slightly disgusted, sad expression.
((No problem! I can't be on for a while either. Haha, I'm not doing so well on remembering to write on my novel... *smacks herself in the head* ))
Match stood next to his father, at the front of the crowd standing in a semi-circle around the platform where the slaves were being brought out. He let his attention wander, as the boy surveyed the people around him. It was just another slave auction, after all.
People pushed against each other, straining for a better look at the human merchandice being brought out for them to gawk at.
Match's father, Brendan, discreetly elbowed his son in the ribs. "Eyes on the platform, son. You're supposed to be helping me pick this lot."
The man that was holding the auction announced her, "Fifteen years old, healthy, quiet. This one's got some fight, but not too much to handle..." as he listed off details about her, most of them made up, Elle tuned him out, watching the crowd. A hundred people, at least, all staring at her. Some were laughing, and some were checking their purses. She rolled her eyes, wondering which of these vultures would buy her.
Match watched the slave on the platform. She didn't even look like she cared what happened to her anymore. Did she even have a personality, he wondered?
The young earl's son bit his lip. He didn't like the concept of slavery. It just didn't seem right. Sure, it had been around for forever, and everyone went along with it, including himself, but he still didn't like it. The slaves were people too.
Suddenly, he made up his mind. For once, he'd do something good. He'd put this girl into a place where she'd at least be treated decently- his father's castle. "Father." He tapped his sire on the shoulder. "Buy her, please."
Brendan raised an eyebrow. "You do the bidding."
Match furled his eyebrows, and opened his mouth to speak as soon as the dealer stopped talking.
((Sorry my posts are so long! They're not always like this. ))
((Sorry my posts are so long! They're not always like this. ))
((It's okay, I don't mind big posts. Sometimes I do big posts too. :) I have to go do dishes.))
The aictioneer fell silent, and a man raised his hand, bidding. She ignored them, and looked into the sky to watch the birds and clouds go by.
((Okay, talk to you later! Have fun doing dishes. =P That's my job around here too... ))
Clearing his throat, Match was about to call out a price, when he cut himself off short, remembering a scheme of Brendan's. Never speak your votes, until near the end, when the number of bidders has gone down.
Okay, then. Match lifted his arm, nodding at the auctioneer.
Several other people were calling out prices, and Elle scowled at one man who quit after the price grew higher than what someone would pay for an ox. She wasn't even worth as much as a cow to him.
She looked away from the crowd and down to the chains that hung between her wrists. About a foot long, there was a matching set on her ankles. Long enough that she could work, but short enough she couldn't run, and it instantly marked her as a slave if she ran.
The voices were thinning, and she shifted impatiently.
((I'm going to assume we're using English currency, here... haha, it's the easiest, and it sounds the coolest. ;-) I honestly don't know how much slaves cost, so just bear with me, k?))
The bidding was dying out, and was now between Match, an out-of-towner, and the lord of a neighboring castle.
Match got fed up. He scowled, and spoke up, "One hundred pounds."
The bidding opposition was abruptly silenced. The auctioneer raised his eyebrows, but he looked pleased. "Going, going, gone to the young master at the front!"
((I don't know either. XD Sorry I haven't been on, my sister has had the internet. I'm working on getting my own, but around here, that could take weeks. Or months. -_- ))
Elle finally looked up at the person who'd bought her. He looked around her age. She was led off the platform and to the side, where other peole stood waiting for their new owners to get them. Her eyes didn't leave the boy - her new master.
((Oh, that's okay! I totally understand the problem of siblings using the internet, when you want to get on... =P Haha.))
Match sighed with relief. He'd done it.
Brendan poked him in the side, and whispered, "Good job, son. But did you have to spend one-hundred pounds?" He grinned. "You probably could have bid eighty, and still have gotten the slave."
His son shrugged, and grinned back at his father. "I was getting annoyed, and tired of bidding. And besides, it could have been worse. I could have finished with two-hundred."
Brendan shook his head. "Match, you need to be more responsible. Be wise with our resources. And have the patience to bid for longer!"
((Do you want to skip to the end of the auction now? When they pick up the slaves? ))
((Sure. :) I'm still writing, I want to get in at least 3,000 words today because I'm behind...So sorry if I reply late or anything.)) New owners were collecting their slaves all around her, loading them into cages or just tying them behind carts. She saw a little boy, around her brother's age being dragged along behind a wagon, barely able to keep up, and she felt like crying.
But she kept her face blank. The people who bought her wouldn't see her cry.
Match strolled over to the small group of slaves that his dad and himself had bought over the course of the auction. Brendan, after paying the auctioneer, had gone on to find their wagon driver, who was probably in the nearest tavern, drinking himself into a daze.
He bit his lip, as he followed the emotionless gaze of the slave girl he had bought, to a small boy being taken away behind a wagon, by the local innkeeper. Match didn't want to think about what would happen to the boy... the innkeeper had a bad reputation with his slaves.
Clearing his throat, Match spoke. "I'm Match Greenleaf, and the man here a moment ago is my father Brendan. We've got a wagon yonder, beyond the market, waiting."
Shifting his feet, he felt nervous. He wasn't used to acting like his dad in front of the slaves.
"Well, come on, then." Motioning for them to follow, he started towards the wagon
Elle followed, still silent. This boy seemed nervous, like he wasn't sure what he was doing. She smiled slightly behind his back; it was strange, he was the master, yet he was the nervous one.
Elle wasn't afraid, she'd had seven masters before and thought she could deal with anything this one would do.
They weaved through crowds of people, and finally reached the wagon. Match turned, to tell the slaves to load up, but suddenly, he stopped.
He looked at the chains on the slaves wrists. The auctioneer had taken the leg chains off, so that they could walk, but the arm-chains were still there. It was going to be kind of hard for them to get into the wagon, burdened like that. Besides, Match didn't like watching people in chains. It didn't seem... right.
He pulled the key out of his pocket, and fiddled with it. "Step up, and I'll unlock your arm chains. They'd, er, probably be uncomfortable on the trip."
Match cursed, silently. Why did he care about the comfort of slaves, of all people? These slaves probably thought he was a weakling, and were laughing behind his back. He straightened up, and looked them in the eyes.
"But if there is any attempt to escape, I will put the chains right back on you."