bakerstreet | The Slave Auction Meme

The Slave Auction Meme

â§ Leave a comment with the character's name, fandom, and whether your character will be playing the part of 'slave' or 'master', plus preferences for scenarios if you have any.
â§ Respond to others with one of the scenarios below or feel free to make up your own.
â§ Please remember to be respectful of others while you play

Warning: Be aware that this meme deals with dark subjects like slavery and may also contain non-consensual/dubiously consensual sex, violence, and kink.

SLAVES

1. The Newbie - This is your very first auction and you don't quite know what to expect. Hopefully you remember your training and don't disgrace yourself in front of your new master. Hopefully someone thinks you're worth buying at all.

2. The Oldtimer - You've been bought and sold and bought again so many times. You've seen it all before and don't think this time is going to be much different. In fact, the only real anxiety you've got is whether or not someone's going to pay for a more than slightly used slave.

3. The Pet - You're a pleasure slave. A bed warmer. A decorative piece of artwork. You're meant to look pretty and be pleasing and not much else.

4. The Guard - Your master hired you because of your ability to swing a sword or shoot a gun, not your looks.

5. The Escape Artist - Somehow you always manage to squirm out of your master's chains. Too bad you seem to get caught after a while. Maybe your next daring escape will be permanent. Then again, maybe your next master has special ways of keeping you locked up.

6. The Undercover - You aren't a slave at all, you're just pretending to be one. Why? Well that's up to you. Either way, your cover is blown if you don't act the part.

7. The Specialist - You have a skill that no one else has. Something rare and valuable. Something your master needs more than anything else.

MASTERS

1. The Customer - You've owned slaves before and this trip to the market is nothing new to you. Still, you're hoping to find something worth your while.

2. The Gift - Someone bought a pet for you, isn't that nice of them? Or maybe it isn't so nice. Did you even want a slave in the first place? Well you're stuck with one now.

3. The Giver - You're selecting a slave for someone else, and they need to be perfect. Perhaps you'd better test them out first to make sure you're getting your money's worth.

4. The Trainer - You specialize in taming unruly slaves and making them over into perfect, obedient, well-trained pets.

5. The Rebel - You hate the idea of slavery, but the system isn't going to go away any time soon, so the next best thing is to buy up any slave you can get your hands on and free them, right?

6. The Companion - You want someone to be with you always, someone you can talk to and depend on, someone who will never leave your side. It's a good thing that money can buy that these days.

7. The Undercover - You're not actually a Master. You're at the auction for an entirely different reason. Maybe it's special policework, maybe you're trying to hunt down a certain someone. Either way, your cover is blown unless you act the part.

As always, feel free to use a combination of scenarios or make up your own if you have other ideas.

Snagged from here.

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OOC: Good with him being either slave or master (but I'm really looking forward to slave negl) Prefer 2,3,5,7 for slave or 2,5,6 for master.

OOC: So I'm casually pondering if I should ruin my Quizzy's life and let Dorian here be the one helping to pick up the pieces? XD ((Assuming end of Inquisition so they can do whatever/etc))

ie: at some point he vanishes only to crop up on the block god only knows how much later. Blood magic of some sort used to keep magic in check (reversible or not, we can figure that out), but let's be real having the real live Inquisitor as a slave would be a pretty impressive conversation topic in certain circles. (I completely ship Dorian/Inquisitor but am down for broship instead if you're more of the Dorian/Bull or no romances thought.

Lemme know if you're interested!

Sorry I didn't get back to you, I was at a con all weekend and was way too busy!

But no, this sounds really great and I totally ship Dorian with damned near anyone and especially Quizzies, so we can totally have him come and save his boyfriend from awful Vints or something like that.

No worries at aaaaall I know how cons can eat one's life XD

Dorian can you come pick him up he did not think this was gonna be a blood magic party 8(

one of these days I will have this in his profile but I am a lazy thing sometimes XD-

He's flirty, sassy, somehow really fucking good at political shit even if he thinks it's all weird (literally I went with his IC responses and he was bell of the ball which just amuses me to no end) knight enchanter, certainly didn't push Dorian to reconcile with his father because fuck that guy, sided with the mages, didn't exile the Wardens, Stroud was the one who stayed behind in the Fade (Dorian came with because of course), Allied with Abela, didn't drink from the well. He's also managed to make nice with all of his companions.

THE QUESTION NOW IS WERE TO START. XDDD

It really doesn't help when you help run it, then it really just devours everything.

Okay so...

DAI is done, Dorian has to go back home, but he's still talking to Quis, they're still trying to like, plan a life once this is all really over.

And suddenly Quis goes missing and Leliana somehow gets it to Dorian that there are rumors that whoever took him is heading to Tevinter and then he finds out that he's going to be for sale at some kind of super secret auction thing and off he goes to rescue the boyfrand and try to not kill everyone in the room.

And yeah, some kind of... Idk, collar or something is going on to keep the Mark from doing it's thing. Somehow. /waves hands

Oh my god you are a braver soul than I!

Makes sense to me! Probably just mimics Tranquility, ie keeping him from using magic/making him more biddable. (Or else let's be real he'dve managed to get out he is ridiculously resourceful when he needs to be.)

Probably the sale is set up under the guise of a masque, so that there's anonymity and such which explains how Dorian can slide in unnoticed.
I can get us a starter up but an aside, do you have an aim plurk or skype so we can chat? /and because casually collect all the Dragon Age frands yesyes

Or more of a masochist, I'm not sure at this point.

So long as it's not actual Tranquility (is Athras even a mage? Oh well) then yeah, that's fine, sounds good to me!

I'm on plurk as

MammaFerus friend away!

((He is a mage but nope no real Tranquil he'll be ok XD))

It had been over a week since the Inquisitor was supposed to get back to Skyhold. It had been a simple enough task he’d set out on, mediating peace talks between a pair of factions in Redcliffe. He’d sent a bird ahead when he’d been ready to come back to let them know the positive outcome, that he’d be heading back.

And then there was nothing, the days ticked past without any sign of him. Scouts and Leliana’s agents were sent to search for evidence of where he’d gone, and no one was soothed when the signs of a camp were found, evidence of a fight. The soldiers who’d accompanied the Inquisitor were found dead nearby, painting a grim picture even if there was no hint that Athras had fallen to a similar fate. Both relieving and troubling: if he’d not also been slain then where was he?

With further, aggressive digging the Spymaster soon found out, and wasted no time in sending word to Dorian. Informing him that the men who’d taken Athras seemed to be on their way to Tevinter with intent on selling him to the highest bidder in a quiet, exclusive sale. That was as far as her information got her, but she had faith that Dorian would be able to ferret out more information, and he’d certainly be able to act more quickly than her agents would.

What could have taken out the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, the elf who had slain a creature with ambitions to godhood? The thought of it was troubling, that someone could keep the elf contained and quiet enough to transport even moreso.

Dorian went into action immediately upon receiving Leliana's bird, which was to his mind far too late, but the best that he could do. He was working on reviving contacts that had lain dormant while he had run from his father's home and then gone south, and it had been slow going. Thank the Maker for Maevaris, who was able to use her own considerable contacts to help him in his search.

It still took distressingly longer than Dorian would have liked, to locate the sale, to get an admission for one Altus Mavarion Prevus. He had been afraid he would miss it, thankful that it was a masquerade, or he might not have gotten in at all, no matter how much money and influence Mae was willing to throw at her contacts.

And so he spent the night drinking and talking, mingling with the other guests, the cream of the oldest parts of Tevinter society, even with the masks he could recite the family lineages of half the people in the room. All the ones who had wanted Corypheus to succeed and who hated the Inquisition and it's success, who wanted everything Dorian was trying to do in Tevinter to fail. His stomach roiled, the wine sour in his stomach as he just tried to make it through the night.

But the talk and the drink was all leading to one thing. To the highlight of the night. The auction.

None of them meant well for the captive Inquisitor. The conversation never touched on the subject, but from the underlying venom permeating the atmosphere of the gathering it was clear. Some perhaps thinking to use his mark to try and finish what Corypheus had started, others just wanting the satisfaction of possessing the elf as a means of payback.

Needless to say it was a good thing for him that Dorian had found the place.

It wasn't until the auction had actually officially began that the Inquisitor out, which had anticipatory whispering breaking out in small groups through the room and Dorian would certainly be able to notice how easily he was led. He looked unharmed but was far too passive for the situation, a glassy quality to his gaze suggesting he was either drugged or bespelled to keep him under control, keep him compliant. The auctioneer kindly assuring them all that he hadn't been made Tranquil, however that they had the resources to perform the Rite if it was what the one who won the auction wanted. Not much more needed to be said, all of them knew who the man was, and what he could do after all.

With the bidding started, an almost predatory air settled over the room, like the nobles assembled were sharks zeroing in on blood in the water.

It was a good thing that Dorian had opted for a full face mask. So no one could see how all the color drained from his face, or the way his eyes widened and his stomach dropped when he saw the way Athras was led to the block as docile as a cow sent to slaughter. He looked Tranquil, and his eyes searched his face, tried to see if he had the sunburst brand on his forehead.

The relief he felt when it was revealed that the Inquisitor had not been made Tranquil was palpable, but that didn't make him relax very much at all. Who knew what had been done to him. It took all of Dorian's willpower, and a very stern reminder that every other person in the room was, if not as purely powerful a mage, then they were a mage with slaves they could draw on as backup. More than one had come with a body slave, and he was sure that if he was to draw back any number of those light, gauzy sleeves he would see cut marks up and down their arms. No, as tempting as it was, he couldn't set the entire room on fire and run out with the Inquisitor in his arms.

He could hear the chuckle that rippled through the crowd at the assurance that the Inquisitor could be made Tranquil once the sale went through, and rage boiled through him at the thought. He would keep it from happening, however he could.

The bidding began, and it started off spirited, everyone there had some interest in purchasing the elf for their own purposes, and some of the murmured suggestions made Dorian feel sick. He started to bid himself, resisting the urge to set the old man next to him on fire when he suggested that the best thing for the "damn rabbit" was to cut off the mark, take his tongue, and have him spend the rest of his life on his knees in chains and rope, since he was so pretty. The suggestions only got worse from there as the Inquisitor was disrobed and made to bend over, the eyes of the crowd hungry and intent as Dorian kept up with the bidding, his heart in his throat.

Whatever had been done was effective, Athras not making a sound as he was stripped so that the potential buyers could see all of what the winning bid would gain. The only thing left as the bidding was continuing being the collar around his throat, the runes carved into it hinting that it must be part of what was keeping him so obedient. At the man's suggestion for what to do with him, one of the others just retorted that it was more fun to let him keep his tongue. It would take some training, but certainly he could use it for other things thank talking back, right?

The bidding continued unhindered, slaves slipping through the crowd to offer drinks as things progressed and some subtly dropped out as their own limit was met to instead observe the proceedings. As those considerations were continuing it was clear that one of the more tenaciously bidding nobles had something of a personal grudge and sexual proclivities that made him finding a willing partner well... rare. And he went through attractive slaves so quickly, he was certainly hopeful that the elf would be a little more durable. Especially for the price he was clearly going to go for, no one pushing it too high yet, but it was still steadily rising as fewer of them were continuing to bid.

This sparked a debate between the two, as the first man claimed that no, a slave with no tongue was quite excellent for anything he might want to do, which brought a round of not so quiet laughter. After all, who cared what some uppity rabbit with delusions wanted to say? Far better to just let him scream as the situation called for it.

Dorian was seeing red as he continued to bid, telling himself that killing the man outright in the middle of a party with such high security would be suicide. But he marked him, telling himself that later he would hunt him down, even if that meant finishing him off in a dark alley somewhere. Meanwhile he had to focus as it dropped to five bidders, then to four, then to three as a woman known as much for her vicious disregard for slaves as for the not terribly secret shrine to the Old Gods that she kept in her home dropped out with a disgusted grumble.

The price crept steadily higher yet as the man who seemed most determined to win commented that once he was done he might have the head mounted. Not that he usually made trophies of rabbits, but he supposed this time he could make an exception. Dorian tasted blood in his mouth, which he quickly and carefully swallowed, glad that no one could see the rage on his face, or he would have been assaulted long ago.

Even those who'd bowed out of the bidding continued to offer suggestions, each met with laughter and approval that doubtlessly did not calm Dorian one whit. At least it seemed the third bidder in the competition was starting to reach their limit, not edging his bids nearly as high as he'd been earlier.

The companion of the other noble tittered behind her hand at the suggestion of trophies before sweetly suggesting that he send the head to the rabbit's little pet traitor. After all, wouldn't that make such a lovely welcome-home present? The idea earned chuckles from the others, even as the bidder who was lagging finally dropped out of the bidding, grumbling at his wine a bit as he settled in to watch.

Everyone was curious to see who would win at this point, still talking amongst themselves but the eyes on the pair bidding were more scrutinizing at this point.

The suggestion that he be sent the Inquisitor's head made him angrier, but it was also a cold bucket of water, and he barely made himself chuckle along with the "joke," his hand tightening on the glass he was holding.

"Is something the matter, Magister Prevus?" He turns, smiling slightly at the woman beside him, dress cut low enough that her areola were visible. It didn't do a thing for him, but he knew how to flatter and appear interested. He took the offered hand, touched the lips of his mask to the knuckles.

"No, of course not, simply eager to have the bidding over, so I may take my new acquisition where it belongs." He kept his eye on the bidding even as he spoke, trading prices with the other man. He knew the tactic, send someone over to distract your opponent, to make them miss a bid, he was only surprised the other man hadn't done so earlier in the bidding. But he was on his guard, he had chatted and made nice with the other guests, but he was still paranoid of being identified. If he had to fight his way out of a crowd, he would prefer to do it with Athras at his side and fighting with him.

It was a game of patience; wait until your opponent is focused on the last 'stand' as it were, when the distraction has more likelihood of throwing off their focus when it's too late to recover, no one else to keep the bidding going if they slipped up.

"I must admit," She replied, in a playfully considering tone, tilting her head slightly as she smiled at that light gesture of lips against knuckles, even though they both certainly knew what this was. "I am wondering what you'd do with the knife-ear should you win. Ideas have been flying around and I've not heard a peep from you. I'm simply aflutter with curiosity!" No she wasn't, but the longer they talked the longer she demanded his attention in any way, the more likely that he'd miss a bid and her own companion would win as a result. Unfortunately for Dorian this was the only way to get out, though if he were keeping track of how much the man was increasing his bids by, he'd notice a small creep towards smaller raises.

Reaching the limit of what he was willing to pay.

Sending a woman to distract Dorian was rather like sending a salad to distract a mabari. It just didn't work that well, not with his attention so focused on getting Athras.

"I'm sure you are, my dear. I must admit" he paused to make another bid "I'm amazed you can hold the extra thought in your head, as I'm sure you weren't brought here for much more than how lovely you look on an arm." He turned his attention back to the auction, only to feel a pair of breasts press against his arm.

"Miss, I appreciate the attention." He had to raise his other hand to bid this time, as she was pressed against his arm quite decidedly. "But you are wasting your time, as my attention is rather singular this evening." And right now his attention was on Athras. He smirked to himself and, the next time it came to him, made a much larger raise than he had previously. Hoping to discourage the other man from continuing his bid.

There was an annoyed gaze turned Dorian's way at the continued bids from him, and when the woman realized that her presence was doing nothing, she peered back at her companion as his scowl deepened under his own half-mask.

It didn't take long after Dorian started bidding more aggressively, that the auctioneer's glance in the man's direction just earned a dark look and a small shake of his head. He was out. The auctioneer cheerily clapping his hands together once it was clear there were no further bids coming and announcing that the sale had come to a close as the woman at Dorian's arm slipped away. One of the auction assistants approached while the ones in charge were urging the others to enjoy the drinks and desserts, thanking everyone for their participation. Asking quietly if Dorian would like for them to perform the Rite, render his new purchase safe.

Or if it were more to his taste, they could supply the space for any other... spellwork he might like to keep the elf under control. Not saying the words outright, but then they didn't have to.

Relief flooded Dorian when he was finally declared the winner, and it took all his control not to run over to the stage, to maintain that arrogant, self assured walk that was the trademark of Tevinter nobility.

He shook his head at the offer "No, thank you. I have my own private rooms set up for just such a need..." This was some of the best acting he thought he had ever done, reaching out to possessively touch Athras' cheek the way he could imagine some other Vint doing. He just had to pretend long enough to get them out of here. And then they were home free.

He touched the collar with the runework on it, studying it for a moment. "It won't damage him when this is removed, will it? I'd prefer anything that happens to him be intentional, not the product of some overly-enthusiastic Laetan." It would take time for him to get it off on his own, but he also didn't want Athras to fall prey to any booby traps after they got home.

His hands shook a bit with nerves, with the certainty that he needed to leave now, but it wouldn't do to rush out with something so valuable. He would have to stay, and chat, show off his purchase, listen to more suggestions on what he do to his new acquisition. Maybe he could bow out early, claim that he needed some time with his new elf. Maybe that would work, or else he'd be stuck here for another hour at least.

Even now, Athras was silent still, only the way his faraway gaze tracked Dorian's approach hinting that he was at all aware of what was going on around him, even if he buried deep under whatever magic was laced into that collar.

"Of course not, Magister Prevus." The assistant assured him with a smile and a shake of his head. "However as it is the thing keeping him docile, I would recommend that any safety measures you desire be put into place before it is removed. The way it is designed, it won't interfere with either Rites or other spellwork's effectiveness."

Because of course it would be no good to anyone if they bought the elf and he simply escaped, right?

With the way some of the nobility lingered near, it was clear that even if he didn't stay long after that they were expecting to trap him in at least some conversation once the purchase was officially done.

The fact that he was tracking Dorian meant that at least there was some sort of working mind under there, even if it was suppressed. He wanted to rip the thing off right then, but he couldn't. It would be death for both of them, quick if they were lucky, slow and inventive if they were not. The Imperium had been executing people for centuries, they'd had time to get inventive.

He waved a hand, every inch the impatient nobleman. "Yes, of course. I didn't get to where I was by being a moron, and I'm sure you won't insult my intelligence by implying it. I trust you've the ownership papers?"

The assistant bowed, and a bowed elf, eyes trained to the floor, thick and heavy collar around his neck, came over, holding a tray on which rested the official ownership papers for one Athras, with full physical description. All nice and legal. Dorian signed, the seal was placed, and as far as the Tevinter Imperium was concerned, he now owned Athras Lavellan. He was his to do with as he wished. The thought made Dorian more than vaguely sick as the leash was placed in his hand, and a simple robe placed on Athras' far too slim body.

"So, do tell us, what are your plans for the insolent little rabbit?" Everyone was eager to speak to the Tevene who owned the Inquisitor, crowding around as if proximity to the sold elf was almost as good as deciding what to do.

This was the most fragile of moments, and Dorian smiled under his mask, forced his voice to sound amused and arrogant. "Please, my plans are my own. I'm a private man, but trust me, I've amusements galore for it." He reached out, touching Athras' hair possessively, loose from it's usual knot, and as he did he prayed that the elf would eventually forgive him.

"Not even a hint?" One of the others pressed sadly, as others let out quiet comments of disappointment. But it seemed that his acting was working, the nobles crowding Dorian and Athras not suspecting anything was amiss. Athras himself wasn't responding in any way like he heard as some of them offered some of the more intriguing suggestions for what to do, being 'helpful' in a rather twisted way. The only thing that got any response was the touch to his hair, just a lowering of his head in mute acceptance, and if Dorian were to move, he'd simply follow after even if the leash wasn't in his hand.

Some of the nobles finally leaving Dorian be for more interesting conversation to observe from afar, while others invited him to have drinks with them, in the hopes of maybe hearing some of his plans for future gossiping.

It wasn't as good as being the one to own Athras and torture him themselves in whatever awful way they had planned, but it was as good as they were likely to get so of course they would try and charm some information from him given even a fraction of a chance.

Dorian had quite a lot of practice in excusing himself from conversations, but even then it took time to go through the room, talking just enough to not seem rude. He was the most popular person in the gathering at the moment, and the target of plenty of barbed, rude comments. Had Magister Prevus been real, he would have been worried about repercussions from what he had managed to buy out from under everyone's noses.

He tried his best to laugh about the suggestions, to counter with a few of his own even, but it was hard to maintain what was supposed to be a celebratory good mood. Finally though he managed to extricate himself from the last person who wanted to badger him, and made his way to the door. A carriage was pulled around and he climbed in, making sure that, when the door closed at least, that Athras was kneeling on the floor, as was proper. Usually he would have been crouched on the back with the footman, but as Dorian explained, he wasn't letting such a precious purchase out of his sight.

He crouched in the floor as soon as he felt the carriage move forward, first taking off the mask he'd worn for the party. "Athras... oh amatus what did they do to you." His hands shook as he undid the collar, it was simple enough to undo, as the focus of it would be unable to do anything about it in the first place.

"Please still be in there, amatus. Please..." If anything had happened he would go back and burn the entire cursed place down.

He seemed to the casual observation eager to get his new purchase home where he could ensure that he wouldn't be any trouble more than anything, most finally allowing him to leave as they all pondered the idea of simply hunting the man down later. No one thought anything of him hiding the elf away in his carriage; not everyone was against the Inquisition's efforts and it was safer in general not to let the general population find out about it just yet, if ever.

Dorian would be able to see the smears of blood both on the inside of the collar and the skin it had been covering, more than likely Athras's blood though there were no signs of injury at least. It took a moment before there was any response once the collar was pulled away as the magic dissipated. A tremor running through him as suddenly his continued fight against his passive posture met no resistance before he all but fell into Dorian with a ragged noise of surprise.

"Dorian-" Clearly rattled, not even realizing when what he managed next came out in Elven rather than the common tongue, fingers curling in the man's robes as a way to try and steady himself.

For a very long moment Dorian thought that the man had lied to him, that some sort of irreparable damage had been done to Athras, and a red haze started to cover his vision... And then the elf shivered and Dorian caught him, pulling him close in the floor of the carriage.

"Amatus, oh Maker..." He held him close, arms wrapped tight around him, petting his back. "It's alright, it's alright." He let go just long enough to throw the blasted collar to the opposite side of the carriage, if he could have done it without seeming suspicious he would have thrown the blasted thing out the window, but he couldn't do that, not yet.

He pulled away just enough to look him over carefully, touching his face and his hair, looking for wounds on his neck where the collar had rested. "Did they hurt you, amatus? Maker, I'm going to kill every last one of them, I swear it." His hands shook as they moved over the dark skin, checking and re-checking, unable to convince himself that they had gotten out of that awful place intact.

Dorian Pavus | Dragon Age: Inquisition | OTA | M/M for smut

/peeks in curiously

/throws open the door and welcomes you with open arms

/SNUGS

Re: /SNUGS

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