Sinners and beggars don't play a part here

[toremainbehind]

[Auctions.

Izumo hated those with a passion, and his family coming and forcing him to partake in one is enough to raise his shackles. It's inhuman to sell people for entertainment, especially ones experimented on to be used as fighters.

He's lost his taste for them quickly the moment his family has decided to use Mikoto, his best friend, as one of the earlier models. Reining in his best friend was easy at first until he's gone control, forcing Izumo to submit control over to Totsuka. While it hurts, Izumo can trust Totsuka to care for Mikoto, allowing them to stay in his house so that Izumo can find a way to reverse whatever's been done.

Nothing's worked out so far, though.

Izumo ignores the excited chatter as he makes his way through the crowd, his disgust for it evident on his face.

"It'll be okay, it'll be okay!" Totsuka's voice rang in his ear as Izumo presses his phone against it. "King and I are fine--so will everything else. Don't worry too much."

Izumo has to hold back an urge to sigh, ending the call after Totsuka promises him to give him an update on Mikoto's condition.

He idly listens to the seller list off the 'products' when Izumo's eye catches sight of a young blond man.

Still in his teens, but looks as if he's seen through enough fights in his life.

Izumo frowns, interest piqued, and he makes his way to the front.

His family wants him to get something? Fine. But it'll be on his own terms, and he's not going to allow anyone to touch what belongs to him and tell him what he should do with whomever he decides to 'purchase'.]

Comments

[redstray]

[ Eric barely registers the world around him, no interest in anyone or anything.

He feels the tug of someone pulling him and he follows, as he was taught as will always happens. Well, almost.

A resale, a desperate one at that. Being a newer model the formula was suppose to work better in his blood, make losing oneself difficult. But, for him, he had gone Berserk.

He couldn't remember why, his previous owner did something and he killed him. Normally, after something like that, a rage would ensue, killing spree total destruction. But he became calm once again, following orders as people told him to stop, come with them. Follow orders.

"Here we have a strange case." The auctioneer yelled, pulling Eric forward more. "Excellent fighter, well trained. But, had gone Berserk. Now now, he seems to have stopped, but no guarantees. But his record should speak for itself. 45 wins to 1 loss, and a bargain price. A small wager for such top class. Raised at 8 years, small weapon savvy, buy or he's sent for termination. Can be used for fights, or other needs. Docile as ever. Any interest? Any takers?"

Eric didn't move, didn't care. Not even knowing if he wouldn't be sold he would be killed before the days enď. He merely stood behind the man, eyes glazed and unfocused. His collar on tight and a small red marble hanging a bit lower from. The only thing he had before the transformation. ]