Leave a comment here with a link to your linkbacks for the Giraffe Call.
(See the poll for setting here on DW and here on LJ - since there was no clear winner, I went with Stranded to start. Now that there is something with two votes, I'll be starting another story.
( story one )
This is Tir na Cali. Cali has a landing page here (or on LJ)
This story comes after Revenge of the Pumpkins (DW), When in Rome (and on LJ), which is after Too Hot for Prime Time (and on LJ) from September's Giraffe Call. “Lady, ma’am, Mistress,” Jason gulped, “I have no idea what is going on.”
Her eyes met his in the rear-view mirror, and her voice was gentle as she spoke to him. “You know the important things, Jason. I have bought you, and you are mine now, correct?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he answered, too nervous to even feel resentful.
“When nobody else was interested, because of your spunk and attitude. That part’s important, don’t forget that.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he echoed, and, because she had mentioned his spunk, he added, “so you shopped the bargain bin for me. I get it.”
“That, too,” she agreed. “But it’s important to remember that I bought you
for that spunk, not just because no-one else wanted it.”
He nodded slowly. “You wanted someone with… a personality?”
“Among other things. I wanted someone with some life left in them.”
“You make me sound like a bull in the arena,” he complained.
“That’s exactly right.” Before he could balk at that analogy, she continued. “You know you belong to me. You know why I bought you. You know that today is Samhain, Hallowe’en. And you know that I have a costume waiting for you. What else do you need?”
“Why are they dragging that woman away?” he tried. “Okay, revenge of the food, but this seems a little extreme. She’s crying.”
“You would, too. She’s been picked to tithe to the poor and needy for the next year.”
“Like that? By being hit with a stick?”
“Just like that.”
Jason shook his head. “You people are crazy, Mistress. Absolutely buck nutty.”
“Foreign,” she corrected. “We’re a lot different from your people, but that’s not the same as crazy.”
“Looks the same from here,” he admitted.
“Well, you’ll have to learn.” Stopped at a light, she looked back at him. “Make no mistake, Jason, while I’m interested in your ‘spunk,’ I am not interested in disobedience. I will give you clear rules. If you do not follow them, you will be punished. If you continue to disobey, I will sell you. And the place I will sell you to will make the work camps look like a vacation resort. Do you understand?”
Jason gulped, and nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
Shit, shit shit. “I understand. I’ll be obedient.”
“I know you will.” Her smile, this time, was sharp and predatory. “Mind you, there’s nothing saying you can’t be a brat. You just have to be an obedient brat.”
“O… okay. So it’s safe to say I think you’re crazy?”
“In private, yes. In front of other people, I might not be so tolerant.”
“… you people are all nuts. Mistress.”
“And you will learn how to live with us, Jason. Or else.”
Jason gulped. “Yes, Mistress. And are you going to tell me why you have a costume for me?”
“I could tell you why,” she decided. “I knew I was buying someone today. And we always do a costume event at the ranch for Samhain, getting in the spirit, you know?”
Jason nodded nervously. “Okay. So you… have a costume for some slave you might buy?”
“Well, you wouldn’t want to be left out, would you?” she smirked. “When everyone else is getting into the celebration?”
“Mistress,” he answered, as honestly as he could, “I don’t know what I’d be being left out of.”
“You’ll see soon,” she assured him. “We’re almost there.”
“Oh, good,” he answered tiredly, and settled back into his seat. The cuffs were pressing against his back, his feet and other bits were getting chilled, but it wasn’t the slave shop anymore, not the auction hall, and not a work camp.
He didn’t want to think things were looking up, he really didn’t. That seemed like asking for more trouble. And there was this weird Hallowe’en thing to contend with, and the unknown costume…
And a garage. His new owner was pulling into a large garage, between an SUV and a Mustang. “I do well enough for myself,” she answered his unspoken question. “Wait here.”
“Yes, Mistress.” What else was he going to do? He waited, while she headed out into the garage and disappeared from sight, waited while his fingers and hands started to grow numb and he started drifting off.
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skjam wrote a microfic to my prompt... 'tis awesome.
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