aldersprig: (Cali)
For [livejournal.com profile] illfluff's Prompt. After this vignette (lj)

Fred woke up strapped down in a hospital bed, with a nurse on one side and Jenny on the other side. Both were frowning at him. As signs went, it wasn't the best.

He tried the restraints, not with any real force. He didn't want to spook anyone. He really didn't want to spook Jenny.

He worked his jaw, a bit surprised he wasn't gagged. Then again, it hadn't been his mouth that had gotten them in trouble.

"Fred," Jenny said. Sobbed. "Fred, why...?"

"I..." he glanced at the nurse; she nodded.

"Go ahead, you're not standing on protocol with me."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
Tir na Cali Slave School - needs a name.


The tall, lanky kid from Ohio had had it out from Steve from their first day in class. He didn’t know why… all right, he did know why, but it seemed kind of petty. So he’d made the guy move at lunch. He was taking up a whole big table by himself, and Steve wanted to sit with his friends. And, okay, he’d snickered at him once or twice – but the guy was such a suck-up, seeming to buy into the shit they wanted to force-feed them.

So he’d been a little shitty to – Fred, that was his name – the Ohio kid, and then it turned out that Fred had a temper that just had a really, really long fuse. And Steve had made one comment after Religion class - all right, one comment after comments pretty steadily over the last three weeks, but they weren’t big comments or anything. It was just that he couldn’t say anything to the teachers without getting hit, or, once, when he’d been really mouthy, gagged, and Fred seemed so much like everything the teachers wanted. So he mouthed off to Fred for selling out.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
From my call for gender prompts and [personal profile] lilfluff's commission comes a discussion at the Cali Slave School on the Rights of Man. Err, Males.

“Aren’t you going to hold the door for me?” Steve teased. Jill wrinkled her nose at him, and did not hold the door. Pointedly.

“You know very well that’s not what that was about. It’s not like everything just turned one-eighty from home.”

“Well, no,” Seth argued, pointedly holding the door for the rest of them. “I mean, back in the States, women and men have equal rights.”

“Under the law,” Jill couldn’t help but point out.

“Well, what other kind of rights are there?”
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
[profile] lilifluff's response to my giraffe sale: more of the slave school!

The first two entries of the slave school are:
Frying Pan, Fire (LJ Link), from [personal profile] lilfluff's prompt regarding a slave school.
Final Exams (LJ Link), from [livejournal.com profile] wyld_dandelyon's prompt of the same name.


"Room 1, right there. Choose the seat with your name on it and sit down." The proctor reminded Debbie of the guards at their first prison, except that, instead of a uniform, he wore a shirt and tie. She had no doubt he could be just as rough, though, so she found the seat with her name on it - just Debbie, like everything else here, like she'd left her last name at home with her freedom. She wondered what they'd have done if they had more than one Debbie.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
From [livejournal.com profile] wyld_dandelyon's prompt: "Final Exams."

This comes after Frying Pan, Fire (LJ Link).


Despite rather constant warning from their teachers: “Don’t bond. Don’t get to close. You will be sold when school is over, and it is exceedingly unlikely you will be sold to the same household,” they had gotten close.

They had been picked up on the same run, Steve, Carl, Debbie, Jill, Jakub, and Seth, and before they’d come to the school, they’d already spent several days together in a cell just big enough for the six of them. By the time their final exams rolled around, they were close enough to know what the others were thinking.

Not that it was hard, right now; they were all thinking variations on the same thing: What happens next? What happens if I don’t do well? What happens if I do do well? Is this really happening to me?
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
I am taking prompts tonight; this is from [personal profile] lilfluff's prompt regarding new Tir na Cali captives

Tir na Cali, and seems to be an intro.



They got pants, at least. And shirts. Well, the girls got skirts, but the idea was there: after what was probably over a week with no clothes, nothing to their names but the ugly plastic collars their captors had locked around their throats, they had pants, shirts, and underwear.

And ugly plastic collars, but Seth, at least, had learned not to complain. Since they had been stolen into California (while, irony of ironies, celebrating their freedom from school), the six of them had been stripped, collared, processed, beaten, starved, and half-drowned - but they'd also been trained. Maybe their training had been harsh enough to make the basic training he and Jakub were (had been) heading to look like a week at the beach, but the lessons had been straight-forward and clear. Lesson one was: don't complain.

Lesson two was don't mouth off, of course. Which was why he was keeping his mouth shut as their handler - the third such, the tallest, the oldest, and the sternest so far, passed them each stacks of clothing. Steve hadn't quite gotten that, yet, but, then again, only Seth and Jakub had been planning on heading somewhere where they barked orders at you all day anyway.

"This looks like a uniform, ma'am." Jill commented, quietly, politely. Jill had learned how to ask questions without getting hit; she'd been the quickest of them all, at that.

"It is," the matron agreed. "You will not be the only ones at this training facility. There will be approximately twenty-five other slaves here training with you."

"Training?" That was Steve. "Like what? Ow!"

The ow was, of course, another thwap with the crop. Steve got a lot of those.

"You know nothing about our world, or our culture. You will be going to school here to learn how to fit in, how to be proper slaves. You will take eight classes a day, and have time in the evenings to complete your homework?"

"Homework!" Seth was mortified to realize that that had been him this time. He quickly added on a "ma'am," and was grateful when Debbie picked up his slack by filling in with another question.

"Like school, ma'am? Like high school?" She didn't have to say all over again; they were all thinking that.

"Exactly like a school," the matron nodded. She seemed to understand; she didn't thwap them at all for the collective groan.








Profile

aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)
aldersprig

October 2017

S M T W T F S
1 2 3 4 567
8 9 10 11121314
15 161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Oct. 17th, 2017 01:13 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios