inventrix: (Default)
inventrix ([personal profile] inventrix) wrote2016-11-25 03:34 pm

H/C bingo except I'm not to the actual H/C part yet oops

there's gonna be a part 2 it's just not done yet

The final chime rang out through the auction hall, signalling the winning bid. The handler tugged lightly at her leash, signalling Kylie to stand and walk off the stage, where they'd clip a tag to her collar with her new owner's bid number before shunting her back to the waiting room.

It wasn't her first auction; it was her third, so she was familiar with the process and followed the orders easily and without having to think, which was fortunate. She was trying very much not to think, right then, or she'd start speculating about her new owner. Last time she'd done that, gotten her hopes up for something better than an old lady's handmaid, and then... She didn't even know how much she'd sold for. Part of her hoped she'd sold for near nothing, since her former owner (who had finally had enough of her poor service) would get the proceeds. Part of her hoped she'd sold for a lot, since that meant whoever had bought her had particularly wanted her.

Part of her didn't want to think about it at all. The same part that was ignoring the half-healed bruises that the auction house had disguised under makeup, with a practiced ease that didn't surprise her at all. She thought maybe it should, which bothered her more than the cosmetic skills.

The handler unclipped the leash from her collar and moved on to the next, leaving Kylie in her spot to be picked up. She settled into a comfortable waiting-for-orders kneel, the kind she'd learned didn't make her ankles fall asleep. It wouldn't do at all to stumble for her new owner, first thing. She had to make a good first impression; well, second, since the first impression was when she walked out onto the auction stage.

It was a long wait; long enough that the day's auctions must all have ended by the time someone came to fetch her. An older, greying man, looking somewhere between apathetic and disgruntled about life, and he was waving his auction number at the manager while a handler clipped a leash to her collar again. She glanced around as she stood and saw that two others were being collected, bearing the same tag on their collar as hers; another woman and a man, both appearing around her age.

The leashes were symbolic, of course; this was a reputable auction house. None of them would dream of trying to run off. They were all too well-trained for that. Even Kylie. But leashed they were, and the two available handlers led the three of them out of the auction hall, following the man who'd bought them and loading them into the an indicated car.

The other two introduced themselves and started cautiously conversing, but Kylie ignored them. She wasn't going to jeopardize herself by making small-talk, even if the front of the car was apparently soundproofed. The old man was driving himself, which considering he could afford to pay for three of them meant he must have been there on behalf of someone else. Maybe a company, even. Being owned by a company sounded much better than another person; clearer rules, easier to follow, possibly even a promotion system. Not that she would be competent enough to earn a promotion, but it was nice to think about.

As the car drove into the luxury residential district, however, that small hope faded.
aldersprig: (lock and key)

[personal profile] aldersprig 2016-11-25 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
I want to know why she had trouble before, I want to know why she think she's not competent, who bought her, why they took so long to pick her.
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)

[personal profile] aldersprig 2016-11-25 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)
ooh that makes sense (yes, pick her UP).