bakerstreet | come buy, come buy

Entry tags:

come buy, come buy

The Market

Ah, a new customer! Welcome, welcome to the Market!

Not much of a name? Why, what do you mean? It's quite concise and descriptive, I assure you, for this is a place for buying-- and buying the finest specimens of, hm, indentured servitude, I assure you, that you might find anywhere in the multiverse. Yes, yes, I've heard the nicknames before, but I assure you, this is the Market and so it shall remain for as long as those of discerning tastes and, ahem, if I dare say, deep pocketbooks, require what we have to offer.

For here we can offer you whatever it is that you wish, whatever you can dream of, anything. For a price, of course, but you wouldn't be here if you weren't able to pay....

Ah, yes, I beg your pardon for today's delay. Some bleeding-heart so-called "rights group" caused a fuss, tried to release an entire pen full of stock, but not to worry, they've been, ah. Dealt with. Allowed inside, you might say, hah?

Well, then, as I was saying. The Market contains all manner of slaves for purchase, whatever your individual needs might be. Let's see what might interest you, shall we?

We'll begin with our most popular selection, the animal types. There's all manner of variety here, though, don't mistake me-- anything from intelligent beasts (with or without full awareness, that's up to you, no additional charge) to the mostly-humanoid with some altered features. See, here, these dogs make excellent guards, quick and clever as any human. Or these over here, with just that feline cast to their features, plus the ears? Quite popular and decorative.

Is that not interesting enough for you? We do have all manner of exotic types, I assure, not simply the standard breeds. Should your fancy turn to dragons or unicorns or griffins, we can certainly accommodate that. Perhaps a centaur? Quite useful, though they can be so difficult to feed...

Ah! Yes, you've noticed our more mechanical selection! Again, there's a range here, depending on your needs-- some have been fitted with cybernetic augmentation, additional strength or enhanced senses, and so forth. Or if you prefer, we have these full-cyborg models, quite useful for labor, they keep going until they run out of fuel. Oh, yes, they have full human intelligence, soul transfered over, not my specialty but I'm sure the handlers could explain to your satisfaction.

These? Oh, yes, the sculpted group is the most varied, and popular with collectors. You see, we add alterations without losing that base humanoid appearance. Improved, certainly, but usually not too exotic (unless that's to your taste, of course, of course!). They could be taller, smaller, thinner, plumper-- or we could add features, perhaps? Devil horns, maybe, or additional eyes or limbs? This lovely model was based on the standard "fairy" type (the wings, I'm afraid, do incur an additional surcharge) while over here, this one was given increased musculature and a bit of facial sculpting for attractiveness. Bound for the gladiator arena I'm certain, that one.

If your taste runs to the more decorative, however, this section is the banks of what we call "statuary", slaves molded into certain pleasing shapes. And textures, yes, see this one still feels like flesh (go on, touch!) but here we have glass, or marble. Oh, of course we provide you with keywords to allow movement when you wish, to reshape them or, well, whatever strikes your fancy.

And here we have the blanks, ready and waiting to be sculpted to your exact specifications while you watch! Anything, anything you'd like, no request too strange, and oh, well...

A bit closer, closer, a word in your ear-- should you like a bit of sculpting yourself while you're here? Some changes, improvements, we can certainly--

What? Certainly not, why would we then try to sell you? What an utterly ridiculous idea, ridiculous, I say! We'd never treat a paying customer in such a manner!

Ah, but it seems the auction is about to begin. You wouldn't want to be late! Simply let me know if you need any further assistance, and we thank you for patronizing the Market....

HOW IT WORKS:
♦ As the name implies, it's a slave market...but with a twist, in that you really can buy exactly what suits your needs. Your character could be shopping at the market, picking up a slave that had been placed on order, bringing in an unaltered slave to be modified, and/or looking for some modifications on him/herself. Or they could be a slave (choose from one of the bolded types or pick your own!) waiting in the pens, on the auction block, just purchased, etc. Body horror? Power games? Whatever strikes your fancy.
♦ Leave a comment with your character's name and fandom in the subject, and please fill out this form to help others tagging in know what you're interested in playing:

This meme is open to smut and non-smut options, as well as other potentially triggering material, so please be sure to state what you want!
♦ Have fun, and be sure to respect others' comfort zones!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's nothing more he can do, now. No way to fight. He can't do anything about what's happening - his body is his own, forever pristine and preserved, yet nothing in it is the way it should be. Just frozen, alien...

Still, he can't give up. While he doesn't really have a way to resist Vexen's touches with the brushes and makeup - and dear god, what's he going to look like when this is all done - he tries to focus on moving what joints he has that are available to him - ankles, wrists, mostly, for now. Just the small stuff. His eyes move enough to look at them and not at Vexen's face, at least - something he doesn't particularly want to see close up, right now. And while he can't feel anything like a rise and fall in his chest any more, something in him still responds to a signal for breath, with the same faint, muted feeling that the rest of his body now shares.
Perhaps even if he's destined to exist this way, a living doll, he can at least be more than a mute model.

Vexen sets aside his brushes and tools soon enough, instead moving behind Kanji so the boy could have an unobstructed view of himself. He has new tools to use, now--brushes, elegant clips and combs, long strands of tiny seed pearls..... Kanji won't be able to easily see what Vexen is doing to him, but he might be able to feel it a little. Long side-swept bangs and feathery layers framing his face to soften the masculine facial shape and the strength of his jaw, a bun to help pull his newly long hair up, small braids pinned into place to help make the style more elaborate, a long tail of loose hair cascading down his back in a waterfall of curls.....

It's a while before he's finished; now that he's finished altering the clothing, this is without a doubt the most painstaking and time-consuming part of the procedure. Vexen circles around to take a look at him from the front again, satisfied with his work; a little patience here definitely pays off. Now, to simply dress their perfect little doll..... The clothing left by the sewing machine, until now abandoned, suddenly seems to serve a purpose again. Vexen fetches a corset from the pile, and sets to work lacing and cinching Kanji in. One more step to help soften the masculinity of his body type.....

Once again - the feeling of having his hair played with wouldn't be an unpleasant one, even in his senses' new faded state, if it wasn't for the fact that the hair shouldn't be that way in the first place... what the heck's going on back there? It's got to be something fancy, he knows. Dammit. Is he supposed to try and keep something like that looking good, in his state? Heck, it's not like he can even - could even - keep his usual short style tidy, half of the time.

So he goes on trying to avoid looking at Vexen the best he can, trying to will life and movement into his body. And there's something, at least - his wrists start to flex, showing the structure of the joints within, hands start to open and close. He can barely feel what they're doing, though, and he wonders if it'll always be this way.
The next step's a distraction, though. It's an internal jolt to realise that the dress was meant for him, of course - a moment's almost-humour strikes through him, an ironic positive thought, at least that's some quality stuff they want me wearing... But a corset? Seriously? Will that even do anything? He was solid enough muscle there even before that muscle structure was frozen into living porcelain... but he supposes he sees the point, insofar as he can tell what the plan is.
He just can't tell why the plan exists in the way it does. Punishing him, he gets that - but why in this way?

It takes all the effort he can throw at it, but he manages to produce the faintest of whispers, breathy and strange-sounding - that's not his voice, no...
"...what ...for?"

Edited 2013-08-30 15:14 (UTC)

In one sense, Kanji is right: a corset absolutely won't be able to do anything, with a porcelain body beneath it; there's absolutely no give there, to be able to narrow his waist or push his chest up. In another sense, he's absolutely wrong: they don't need it to do anything of the sort. A corset is considered a shaping garment for more than one reason--beyond narrowing the waist, it also emphasizes the hips and bust. Although he may not have anything to push up, the way it's cut still flares out to provide somewhere for a woman's chest to go, and the bottom is much the same way, in a longer style like this, curving out to slope over hips that just aren't there.

By itself, of course it looks odd, just like the rest of the changes seemed strange in a vacuum--but concealed beneath a dress? Those hints will provide just enough definition to raise some doubts, just enough to fill out the dress a little, after he's altered it. Taken altogether, the role confusion and ambiguity will be an artistic statement, to a degree..... even as it serves another purpose, just like the corset. Vexen cinches it until Kanji creaks, just a little, with the strain of being borne down on when the porcelain has no give to offer. In normal humans, wearing things like these restricts breathing and can even rearrange organs after long enough--in a doll like Kanji is now? That kind of stress should only make him more fragile, more aware that such pressure will easily lead to fractures and breaks, if he's too careless.

Vexen raises an eyebrow as Kanji speaks, mildly incredulous. At least he's learned how to speak at all..... he's glad to see the boy is at least quick on the uptake in one way. "You really don't know? Honestly....."

He turns away for a moment longer, returning holding a pair of tall, sleek high heels for Kanji to inspect. They're set on the cart, and he returns next time with a petticoat as an example, briefly draping it over Kanji's lap to prove his point; the hem easily falls right down to his feet. "I would be interested to see you learn how to run in these--and quickly enough to outpace grown men in more sensible clothing and footwear, at that. And even if you did....."

Vexen taps one of Kanji's bare shoulders with his nail; there's a bright, high chime from it, not at all unlike someone tapping their glass with a fork to get a table's attention. Tripping and falling, much less fighting, has the potential for things to go south very quickly for him now. "And even if you managed to avoid that..... do you suppose your friends would recognize you anymore? Would you want them to, if you saw them?"

Edited 2013-08-30 15:59 (UTC)

The feeling of having his body creaking under pressure is strange, alien, worrying: and as Vexen describes the details onwards, Kanji gets a sinking feeling that he didn't even know his body could still produce. He can't quite persuade his head to turn quickly enough to respond to Vexen's tap, can't grit his teeth against the intrusive nature of it all - the chiming sound would set them on edge if that were still possible. It's doing that much to his mind, at least.

He understands. God, he understands. No chains needed any more - the body he'd taken so much care to train and treat well had been turned into as effective a restraint as any of the others. But why the makeover? Why the feminine hair, nails, makeup? There had to be some reason behind that, too, apart from sheer unrecognisability - he's sure that Vexen could have done that in a million ways. Sure he could have stopped him running in other ways than an admittedly impractical clothing choice. Why?

Getting a response out takes the same effort, still trying to learn how to shape words with willpower alone - "Ruin' 'e... ast'rd..."
Each hard-fought word might as well be a shouted litany against Vexen, the procedure, the marketplace, anything else in the world that'd brought him to this state.

Edited 2013-08-30 16:50 (UTC)

Why? Why not? The poetic irony is perfect, in his opinion. The sheer incongruity of Kanji's circumstances now with his initial state, with his attitude, with his body contrasted against his new outfit and more feminine makeover..... That's the sort of artistic tension that makes a piece interesting. That's the sort of identity erasure that erodes their slaves until they're more fit for purchase. Let the punishment fit the crime, isn't that right?

Besides, their dolls happen to be very popular--chances are good they'll be able to sell him with relative ease. They're a market, not a zoo; the point is to be able to pass the slaves on to others, not keep them caged up for its own sake.

Vexen starts unstrapping Kanji, to better be able to start dressing him; he simply nods, rather than offer Kanji a full answer. Why, yes, he has ruined him, hasn't he? That's exactly the point, there--good work, Holmes, you've cracked the case. Foundation garments come first--a pair of panties to slip on, stockings and a garter belt to clip them in place, several frilly petticoats to add volume..... Vexen works as matter-of-factly as though Kanji really is nothing more than a life-sized doll, now.

Edited 2013-08-30 17:07 (UTC)

It's beyond frustrating being unable to fight back, to be barely able to hiss out insults in a reforming voice - as such, inside, he's just about screaming. This isn't him, this can't be - this'll never be who he's supposed to be... despite everything. He'll never be able to accept it.
And maybe that's the point, he suspects. To be able to give up on his old self and be content in a strange form like this - easier in the long run, but impossible to do. To go on fighting inside - an easier choice but a harder life. He's being forced to tear himself apart.
(For a moment, his thoughts go out to Naoto and the choices she'd made in her life - to be what she needed to be, versus being what she truly was...)

At least, as hateful and undignified as the process of being clothed is, it's helping him settle into the feel of his changed body. Adapting to the faint sensations of the clothes lying against his smooth, hardened skin, pressure in places he'd never had to get used to such before. He's still trying to get used to the motions of his new joints, but anything more than hands and feet are still not an option. Perhaps when he's actually got a chance to move, uninterfered with... but he's not sure what chance that'll be.

That's exactly the point. Tearing himself apart inside until there's so little left of him, anything can be done with the remains..... That's what they're in the business of, here, with the less cooperative slaves. Those who give up easily, those who are willing to submit..... They find themselves with easier lives, even relatively comfortable ones. Some people, after all, simply wish for things like dedicated bodyguards, or guaranteed servants. Some of them will be poised and appropriate for exactly such missions, and go on to lead actually decent lives with kind, thoughtful masters who may even grow to care about them as people in their own right.

Kanji, however, will never be one of those fortunate few. He's too late to understand the use of bending, rather than breaking, or graciously accepting and improving his lot in more subtle ways.

Vexen works on dressing Kanji the rest of the way, now, manipulating his limbs methodically to slot them into the dress, even lifting him at one point, effortlessly, to get him into it fully. The whole process has been undeniably gentle, but it's obvious he's strong, if he can lift him so easily--strong enough to break such a fragile form without a second thought, if he so chooses. Sliding arms into puffy sleeves, arranging the heavy skirts, lacing up the back, slipping the high heels onto stocking-clad feet..... At least he doesn't bother with jewelry. The outfit is more than enough.

No, now that the work is finished, Vexen goes to fetch a mirror instead, wheeling it over to stand before Kanji's chair. He solicitously lifts Kanji up so he can see everything fully--and so Kanji might be able to stand, if he can figure out how to get his feet under him and support his own weight. "There you are. All cleaned up, and ready to be put back on show, just as promised."

Edited 2013-08-30 20:00 (UTC)

Perhaps he's damned himself. But at the same time - he couldn't have gone on without trying. That's one thing he can be proud of, even after all this. Perhaps he's cut off one avenue of comfort in life, but he's kept that much, he thinks...
Throughout the process, he's been growing more and more used to the sensations of his body, learning how it flexes as Vexen moves the joints to slip the clothing over his body. By the time it's done, he's hardly in any fine control, but he's determined to stand up to face the truth of what's happened to him.

The combination of the unfamiliar feeling of his body and the high heels are enough to make it hard for him to get anything like balance - but damn it. He's going to try. It's something he can do, at least - work through it, not just be pushed around any longer - but the sight of his own reflection's enough to almost knock him off his feet again.

For a moment, he's sure that it must be a trick. Not the most classically pretty, perhaps: but striking, elegant, caught on the edge between masculinity and femininity by the careful colouring and layering of clothing and hair. An unconventional beauty, but this time the description's accurate rather than sarcastic. Hell, if the school festival could've done anything like this, Teddie wouldn't have stood a chance - but at the same time, that was transient, a one off challenge. This? This is for good.
And it's a chill inside to realise. This is where his actions have brought him. One hesitant, finely-jointed hand raises as he watches his reflection...

While his speech is still a whisper - perhaps that's all it'll ever be, now - it's clear by now, as he responds to Vexen's comment.
"...that's it, then. ...Damn."

Vexen loosens his hold, hands simply resting on Kanji now, rather than supporting his weight. He's ready to catch the boy again, should he be unable to keep his balance, but he'll at least allow Kanji the dignity of trying--and the humiliation of failing, if it should come to that. He remains quiet, to allow the realization to sink in, fully and uninterrupted. A striking and unconventional beauty, yes..... Just the look they were aiming for. Some discerning collector should no doubt very quickly snap Kanji up for how unusual he was.

He nods in confirmation to Kanji's whisper, and while he's still satisfied, he doesn't seem so smug as before. In fact, he's almost solicitous, at this point, considerate as he gives Kanji both options and a chance to do things himself again. After all, now that the transformation is complete, the repercussions are over--now, it's back to the display with him, and he can figure things out himself from there. "That's it. Do you think you can walk, or shall I carry you?"

For a moment, Kanji closes his eyes, light still shining through the thin material of the lids but not enough to carry an image.

There's no battle left to fight. This is the way things are.
He's lost.
Lost everything he was, kept his body but lost his image, lost his battle for freedom. This is his life.

Inside, something crumbles - and while his body doesn't have the flexibility to droop or fold in the same way as it had as a human, there's still something in the way he moves as his eyes open half-lidded that suggests the same thing.

You win. You've got me.

He can't fight off what seems to be a legitimate offer of help, now. While he dislikes the thought of having to be carried, it's with a stiff nod that he replies - not pushing Vexen away, just a polite acknowledgement, by his standards. The very last hint of pride left. "...I've gotta learn. But could ya make sure I don't fall over? I don't want to... t'..."

He can't say the word.

To break.

Oh, does he recognize that look. Even without proper human flexibility to his body language, Vexen recognizes that look easily. He's seen it in too many eyes before, far too many. He knows the silent and secret language of defeat, of despair. He knows what it's like to see someone break, utterly and irrevocably, without so much as a scratch on them. It's such a bittersweet moment, isn't it?

A Pyrrhic victory, at best. He has his pride, yes, or at least what remains of it. But at what cost? Will he be able to keep it?

"Of course. Carefully, now, heel-toe. Hold up the skirts, if you need to. Lift at the joints." He doesn't need to hear the last word to know what it is, and he doesn't need to make Kanji say it to understand. He simply takes Kanji's arm instead, grasping his bicep to help steady him. Ordinarily, it would be better to let him hold on, to get his balance himself--but unused to his body as he is? He's not going to have a strong enough grip, or fast enough reaction times to save himself if something does happen.

If nothing else, the calm instructions suggest Vexen has done this before, helping others figure out how to cope with their new form. Perhaps he's even crossdressed himself a few times, if he can offer tips on walking in skirts and heels.

Right now, the exact nature of Vexen's expertise isn't something that Kanji's going to enquire about. He's just glad of the advice. Alright, he can do this, he's got to do this - this is his body, now, if he can't even walk in it... One, two. One, two. It's a good job that Vexen's so similar in height to him, really! But damn. Even doing this under his own power, even unseen by any who might judge, it's an embarrassment - his eyes stay downcast, looking at the ground and the flowing skirts rather than anything else.

Still, there could be worse things that could have happened to him, he supposes, given the scale of what happens here. He's kept a mostly-human form. Kept a lot of his appearance, even dressed up like this. And even he could acknowledge that his new appearance isn't unattractive... as these things go. Just strange, different, not the old him.

When will it stop being that? Can it?

It's slow going for them both, and a bit of a rocky start. But still, no matter how humiliating and difficult it is, Vexen is there to make sure he won't fall. He'll give Kanji that much, at least, patiently holding and guiding him as he adjusts to his new body. Step by step, the pair emerge from the laboratories, and make the journey back to Kanji's cage. Vexen leads him inside, to one of the barred walls, so that Kanji will have something to hold onto once he locks the door behind him and leaves Kanji to his fate.

They garner a few odd looks, as they go--it's not often that Vexen emerges from the labs while still on the clock, after all. He generally doesn't bother with such frivolous things as helping someone walk back to where they belong--if anything, he either carries them, or leaves it to one of the guards or handlers. Maybe Kanji should feel lucky, given the circumstances? After all, he's exactly right. He does have it better than a great many people here. Some have been turned into animals--beasts who can't even talk, who aren't recognizable as human any longer.

He may not be one of the most fortunate, given everything that's happened..... but he's not nearly the most damned of the market, either. And he'll have plenty of time to get used to his new form. Maybe someday, he'll find that even this can become him, too.

This is strange. Such a cold, heartless type, who'd taken away everything from him, actually bothering to be careful about him here? What's the point? The looks are making him uncomfortable, and there's the occasional faint "...what're you starin' at? Never seen someone in a dress before?" comment that would be far snappier had he the volume to deliver it.

Perhaps even that's a strange acknowledgement of his fate, of accepting his new form and appearance for what it is. If he's stuck with this... well, he's stuck. He'll learn to take care of himself. Learn his limits - hopefully before doing too much damage.

While he can't bring himself to thank the person who reduced him to this state, he can give a nod to the one who escorted him on unsteady feet, and watch him go as he prepares for the next step.

The beautiful, androgynous, strange doll who had once gone by the name Kanji Tatsumi lowers himself gingerly to the ground and closes his eyes to think.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

come buy, come buy

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject