Buying into Bondage (without a penny to my name) { Abel }

[Deleted]

What a dirty, filthy liar she felt she was. But all in good time, all in good time. It got her far enough, from Western Europe to Russia. To be fair, though, half of it was simply politely asking and politely convincing her university to allow her to be an exchange student in Moscow. After boarding the plane, she had made up her mind. She did stay a whiles at her university to get a bit more oriented with Russia and make an effort to pick up some Russian. Lying was something much easier to do when the person you lied to understood what you were saying — though she did notice if she tried hard enough, she found she could still get what she wanted if she batted an eye a little too prettily.

Russian life was great for the year. Spending a whole year at Moscow was great preparation. Because of previous language learning experiences, picking up metropolitan Russian conversational conventions. She couldn't pick up a complicated book and really understand it, unfortunately, but it was enough to get around, enough to lie properly. And that was all she needed.

She had seen an ad, and there he was. Or at least, she hoped it was him. The powers were something that she remembered much too well... but she couldn't say she was entirely pure. She felt like a time bomb when it came to the fact that she herself had powers, though not as dangerous. She was fortunate her adoptive family's spending habits were already somewhat extravagant to begin with, when it came to her desires as a child. Her adoptive brother was quite spoiled for being an only child. The social workers had her tested for powers at one point, but she had tested negative at the time, perhaps because her mutation had not quite manifested at the time, perhaps because she fully convinced herself (and the machine at that) that she was without powers. Perhaps the powers only finally manifested when they needed to, when she was finally separated from her brother. If she really thought about it, she could say it all began perhaps once she was sent to the orphanage, where it was fend for yourself and get yourself as fast as you can. She was quite lucky to be undetected, then.

The last time they had seen each other, she was "human" to him. He was the one turning everything into diamonds. Not her. She wondered how he would look and how... changed he would be since their last encounter. Would have be proud of just how much of a liar his zusje has become?

But let's not get so pessimistic so quickly.

She phoned, inquiring about the particular mutant. She would go over there and take a look, as she heard of the product's "temperament". She swore she had the cash, but will only pay up front and "in hard". 

"You know how we are in Russia. I'm not throwing my money without certainty, and I think you'd trust the cash cold," she added.

She supposed the only setback was just how high the price was on her supposed brother's head. Why did he have to be worth that much?! She had once joked with her brother as a child that if he ever got caught and was being auctioned in a mutant market, she would walk into the bidding hall and declare him "priceless" and refuse to pay for him. And if that didn't work, she would give him a look to say "Ey, give me some diamonds so I could pay for you, broer." If irony may have it, she was going to have to walk in there without enough money. She would have asked her adoptive mother to spare money, but the price was high and the woman refused to buy into the slave trade. Her mother wasn't an advocate of mutant's rights — she had a fear of them.

Good thing mum doesn't know.

Of course, it would be easy to simply command her mother to give her money, but Charlotte had no intention of doing more manipulation than needed. She would use her own money. Taking a train to Archadia cost some. And then renting an apartment on the good side of town. Two bedrooms. Preparations to welcome her brother. This time, it would be she who provides for him. In total, she only had £50 left to actually purchase her brother. Perhaps if she didn't purchase so much nice kitchen equipment, she would have had more. Figures. She expected to haggle the price, then.

She went to the address of where she was to meat her brother. If it was her brother. She spoke with the receptionist, who directed her to a guard, who lead her to the finely furnished retail hall cells. She held her breath as she saw some of them. She perhaps still did have a fear of mutants, graciously given to her by her brother and ingrained by society and her mother, despite her own mutation. She could very well be on the other side of the bars.

That's right, stay there where you belong, she thought, trying to keep the images of the atrocities these sorts of creatures could do. She even started having doubts of whether she should even buy her brother back anyways. Especially after those two incidents...

"And here is the cell, madam," the guard said, waving his hand to the cell. "You are very right about talking first — this one is a particularly nasty and rude weed. I can't even talk to it in a polite tone without getting anything through to it."

For the first time in years, she saw him through the metal bars. He was despondent and even if there wasn't a physical sign that he was abused here, he was noticeably broken... but he still had the same scar from years ago...

"Excuse me madam, I need to give him a talking," the guard said, turning to the cell. "Punk, look 'ere. Ya 'ave a visitor. A lady too, considering to buy you. If ya don't eff this up like ya usually do, consider yourself lucky. Real pretty one, too, just yer type. One of those Western European types, probably has a lot of money," the guard said.

I hope you haven't become a weed like the rest of them, Mr. Tulip Man. Zusje wouldn't like that at all.

[Deleted]

One would think that when presented with a cell far more comfortable than usual, topped with fine clothes and an opportunity for regular showers, any mutant would be excited, gleeful to see even a small change for the better in their hellish everyday life. But Abel was never just "any mutant." No, he was far too bitter and so very disdainful of everything the humans around him decided for him that even as he sat in the clean, furnished retail cell he had been placed in for the day, fine nice suit hugging his form and nice shoes gleaming in the overflowing light of the hallway, his frown showed no signs of vanishing whatsoever. Quite on the contrary, actually; the suffocatingly tight tie and the fabric that allowed his muscles no breathing room made him glare at the humans passing him by even more intently than usual. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate fine clothes, but wearing them only to appear well-kept for a possible buyer sounded... humiliating. He felt like a show dog on display.

Well, he wasn't going to wag his tail.

Abel pushed his fingers into the collar of his shirt, tugging at it harshly with a low growl to allow for more breathing room, even if it was at the expense of the fabric. The bright lights illuminating every inch of every cell hurt his eyes, and the steady hum of air conditioning kept his nerves on edge. A smell floated in the air, rosy and clean to hide away the smell of blood and piss the mutants usually came equipped with, and it made Abel truly long for his cigarette. He'd rather breathe in smoke than this sickeningly sweet crap.

Guards passed by his cell regularly, often with a possible buyer in tow, but unlike many others who immediately rose to their feet and rushed to take a better look, the Dutch mutant stayed stationary on his bed, not even bothering to glance at the passersby. He had no intention of kissing ass or trying to appeal to the humans. Yes, he did want to be bought as much as the next mutant, as staying locked up forever hardly served his purposes of escape and finding his sister, but there was no point in trying to appease every human that entered the hallway beyond not attacking them. The humans who came here mostly already knew what they wanted. They'd went through their shopping brochures and thought things through in advance, and nothing they did here was likely to make them change their initial choice to something random. Buying a mutant wasn't exactly a light decision to most. True, their lives might not have mattered much more than a common cur's, but the price based on them was far more expensive than most things people found themselves purchasing. Mutants cost money.

And humans loved their money.

Abel would know.

He was once one of them.

The retailing area's door opened somewhere far away to signal the arrival of a yet another customer, but Abel didn't bother paying it much mind, not even when it became obvious that the footsteps were growing increasingly loud and seemed to be heading his way.

"And here is the cell, madam."

The words came right from outside his cell, and the terms the guard used to describe the mutant he'd brought the human to see were unmistakably describing him. A slight spark of curiosity igniting, Abel finally raised his gaze to meet with his possible future owner, expression indifferent and uncaring - until the facial features of the woman standing mere feet from him registered as something he had unmistakably seen before.

Before, years ago, in a form that was much more childish.

And for the first time in years, life found its way into the Dutch man's eyes. So many emotions and feelings rushed through his numb form that Abel couldn't grasp any single one of them to hold onto. There was surprise and there was disbelief, there was joy and there was anger, and above everything else there was that same, familiar feeling of bitterness that had plagued him throughout the years in one form or another.

His sister was here. She was standing there, so close, so real. After years of him attempting to find her, she was the one who found him. The irony, it was almost delicious in its cruelty. It didn't matter how hard a mutant worked, they never could do what the humans could so easily, could they? But that didn't matter much now. All that mattered was that they had been reunited.

... Right?

This was what he'd wanted. A scene he had played over and over in his mind so many times before as he lay alone on his bed, unable to sleep at night. Ever since he was a kid, he had prepared words to say to her, created entire conversations, carefully mapped out every single expression and movement he'd make.

So then, why couldn't he bring himself to remember any of what he'd planned? Why couldn't he bring himself to feel the overwhelming joy of being reunited with a loved one? Why couldn't he bring himself to spring from his bed and run to embrace her, like he'd sworn he'd do when he was locked away in his room at the Weeds of Tomorrow? The answer was simple, but all the same cruel; he'd changed. She'd changed. They'd grown apart, different, distant enough that even though she was standing right there in front of him, with those same emerald eyes glistening the way they always had, Abel didn't really feel her there. The bars that stood between them represented an entire world's difference.

She was a human. He was a mutant. They were not the same.

The guard next to her spoke, but his words were insignificant, the buzz of a fly to his ears. And yet, with each word he spoke, Abel's erratic state of mind was forced to cool and his usual expression to return. His sister was standing there, proper and sophisticated, not a word of greeting leaving her rosy lips, and Abel slowly realized why. She was not standing there as his sister, but as a buyer, and he was to regard her not as a long lost sibling, but a possible future master - at least, until the transaction was done and his life changed hands once more.

This was not yet a reunion - this was merely a promise of one. And until money changed hands, he'd need to cast aside the hurricane of emotions he felt and focus on playing his part in this human game of slave trade.

Looked like he'd need to wag his tail, after all.

"Real pretty one?" Abel finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, much more so than he'd anticipated. But such was the price he had to pay for keeping his emotions in check and preventing them from flowing over into his speech. His words were addressing the guard, but his eyes never left his sister's. "Dunno about that."

The faintest trace of smile brushed across Abel's lips as he regarded his younger sibling, his tone visiting that of an older brother mocking his sister, one Charlotte undoubtedly knew from the years past. Or at least, Abel assumed she did. Hoped as much.

In either case, the smile was gone even faster than it had come as he continued, words flowing without him controlling them now. "She does look rich, though," his voice was bitter as the words left his lips, and that bitterness was not part of the act. It was something else, something so ugly Abel didn't want to acknowledge its existence. "I'll give you that."

And then he fell silent, the sound of his heart beating desperately within his chest the only sound that reached his ears as he awaited for his sister to speak. He didn't care what she wanted to say, or even if it was directed at him; he just wanted to hear her voice and the feelings behind it.

He wanted to know if she'd changed.

[Deleted]

Mr. Tulip Man was never a weed in her eyes. Oh, no, Mr. Tulip Man worked wonders. Mr. Tulip Man put food on their table, fought the monsters that were present in humans, lit the way to the end of the tunnel, adorned her with jewels worthy of royalty, even had the capacity to make her laugh when he accidentally turned water into crystal. Mr. Tulip Man was never a monster to her. Oh no, Mr. Tulip Man was a hero! An angel sent from heaven! God had blessed Mr. Tulip Man with an escape from their life! Mr. Tulip Man was a saint. He was the older brother that served his little Katje. He was warm as the red poppy fields. Warm as the Sun. Scared of drowning for some reason, had his own quirks, could be a grumpy grump from time to time, but he was Mr. Tulip Man. A warm teddy bear whose arms she never feared.

The man behind these bars was not warm. And she feared those fingers at the ends of those arms. She feared them so. 

"Real pretty one? Dunno about that," he said smugly, his gaze never leaving hers. There was a tone of mocking in that voice. A brotherly mocking. One that she did somewhat remember, a very human memory. Sometimes Mr. Tulip Man liked to muss her hair and call her a turnip. Remember, this is a mutant, not Mr. Tulip Man. A mutant isn't human. A mutant only means harm, only to make itself feel better about itself.

"I-I wouldn't say something like that if I were you. I'd think you'd prefer serving in my house than wasting away uselessly in a cell," she said, hiding a quiver in her voice and keeping an authoritative tone. "I think a little respect is in order."

The guard chuckled.

"Little lady, I'm not certain you quite get the... extent of just how ungrateful this weed is. It's known for the sharpness in tongue. Maybe it's some stress coming from that damn ugly scar on its forehead. Useful little weed, but I don't think a dear like you should be dealing with something so horrible. There are other weeds you can look at that smell like roses when forced enough. Lady Luck can be a rose, especially to a lady like you."

"I'm going to stick with my decision with this one," she said, her eyes never leaving those of the mutant trapped behind the bars. "Maybe I can 'talk some sense' into it. I've been told I've been particularly effective when it comes to that. If I can do that with humans, perhaps I can be even more effective when it comes to the beasts."

Not that she was expecting any respect from this one, anyways. Her brother was always a fighter. Someone who refused to be put down. Whenever he was pushed down in the streets of Amsterdam, he got right back up and continued fighting on. He wasn't going to take getting looked down upon. She, personally, took it whenever she needed to. But he... he was a different story.

"She does look rich, though. I'll give you that," he said.

Was that all he had to say? For a moment, she looked to him with pity, with eyes pleading for Mr. Tulip Man to save her like old times. But that wasn't the kind of look she was meant to give. That was the kind of look Mr. Tulip Man deserved, not some bitter beast of a system meant to protect humans from the demons. There was a dirty sinner, a tainted one beyond these bars. Not a savior of the weak. Not a giver of hugs. She feared his hugs, the day that his power had shown its scary side. That day that she had to acknowledge that Mr. Tulip Man was no hero. No, Mr. Tulip Man was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Mr. Tulip Man was beautiful, but deadly. He wasn't the kind of person that Little Red Riding Hood should cavort with. Little Red Riding Hood would have died, had it not been for those social workers. They were the hunters. And they found Grandma for her, in the form of her family in Belgium. Mr. Tulip Man had only put on the grandma costume... Mr. Tulip Man wasn't the hero at all. He was a mutant this whole time.

"I'm going to... ask you a few questions. I want you to answer them truthfully. Despite your current tone, I'm still very interested in buying you. But one false step, another slip, and I won't tolerate the tone. I can walk out of here, and the deal is up. You'll be stuck here. I think you'd want to be a bit more productive with your life instead of being stuck here, though as it seems, they're treating you a bit better for your standing," she said, staring directly into his eyes, focusing with much intent. She was hoping that command would make him budge. She had gotten used to using such an authoritative tone to get what she wanted. She wanted truth, not this bitter snarky crap he was pulling. She wasn't going to see the warmth of Mr. Tulip Man at all if that was what she was expecting. She wasn't very realistic with her expectations, but at least a little bit of indication in some warmth would suffice... at least a little bit of sunshine. The lack of sun in Russia was starting to get to her, and another large cloud wasn't something she was welcoming in her life.

"Will you answer, then? I need to consider before I actually pay. I want to make sure I'm making a good investment," she said. Spoken like a true businesswoman. 

She wasn't so certain she could stand the taste of bitter. Not that she hadn't had a dose of it herself.