First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Teamwork
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âAnan, Iâm not going to – Iâm not going to do that. Â For one thing, I donât think he can live without those. Â And for another thing – ew.â The brute sounded, MĂ©lanie thought, both worried and squeamish. Â How could she be squeamish when sheâd been planning on taking Jasper home and torturing him?
But she definitely sounded it.  âI mean, ew. And, well, if I do that  – then he wonât be able to tell us anything, or to agree to anything.  Anan, are you feeling okay?â
âMmâfine.  Mâ⊠more than fine.  Wonderful. Everything is wonderful.â
âI think you got some of the good whisky and didnât tell me. Â Urgh.â The big one picked up Jasper and turned him so he was on his side and not lying in his own vomit. It would have been surprising tenderness, but the big one was ceasing to surprise MĂ©lanie. âThere. Â Donât die, you hear me. No dying. We canât torture you if youâre dead.â
Now that⊠did the big one even understand the word torture?  She gulped down some bile as she heard the gate creak open.  They were â please say they were home. Please say this was almost over.  The gate had seemed unbearably loud, but it didnât seem like either of the brutes noticed.  Jasperâs eyes opened even wider.
âNow,â the big one continued, âIâm not going to gag you again, because I donât want you to choke. But if you puke on my boots again, Iâm rubbing your face in it.â
Jasper made a noise. Â It might have been an understanding, or something like an agreement, or it could have just been a whimper. Â MĂ©lanie wondered if the big one didnât think about Jasper doing Workings or just thought he was too ill to manage anything of the sort – or if her donât-worry-be-happy was just doing a lot more good than sheâd thought it would. Â Or, maybe, for a woman that could take care of someone while discussing torture, it just hadnât hit her mind.
The horses stopped. Â The little one, Anan, made a quiet noise of confusion and shook the reins. Â MĂ©lanie was beginning to think sheâd gone a little overboard on the donât-worry sort of thing. Â The woman was five sheets to the wind and probably going to start puking like Jasper soon.
MĂ©lanie sat up and looked around, her invisibility covering her once again. They were – yes. Â They were definitely home. In the dark, the tangled front yard of Jasperâs house looked even more ominous and foreboding than it had when she had come in here the first time. Three lanterns flickered somewhere off among the weeds. Â The wind had picked up, and junk sheâd never seen in her first trip through started flying through the air.
The big brute ducked as an umbrella, open and caught in a breeze, headed straight for her head. Â âWhat-â
MĂ©lanie fumbled with the knots of Jasperâs bonds, trying to get them undone while leaning over him, protecting him from the oncoming rush of junk and rocks.
She heard when one of the rocks hit one of the kidnappers in the head and winced. Â That was never fun. It might bleed – the last time sheâd been hit in the head, it had bled horribly.
It might kill her, if it was deep enough. Â MĂ©lanie considered that and then went back to the knots. Â Once Jasper was safe, then she could worry about the fate of a kidnapping brute whoâd wanted to torture her Master.
It took far too long, long enough that the big one landed next to her – nearly stepping on her – trying to escape the tumult. Â âAnan!â she called. âAnan – oh.â With a noise like a sick dog, the big one pulled her bleeding friend into the back.
There was no time to try to be hidden now. Â MĂ©lanie finished the arms and moved to work on the legs, hoping that the brute was distracted, hoping that she wouldnât notice until too late or, maybe, wouldnât care.
Jasper was muttering under his breath. Â MĂ©lanie tried to listen, wondering if he was ordering her to do something, but the noise of the wind and the flying debris was far too much.
Then the ropes vanished under her hands and she understood. Â He was *Working*.
He really shouldnât be, if heâd been drugged, but she wasnât going to tell her Owner what not to do. Â Instead, she took his hand and helped him out of the back of the wagon.
âHey! Â Hey, stop – stop.â Â The brute didnât move towards them. Â âHelp us? I think sheâs dying.â
Want more?
Plan stage one: success! Their reactions now will tell the readers a whole lot about the protagonists …
YAY HOME!
Also House, you are awesome. Excellent work there.
This was a good plan, all around.
Yep, by the only measure that counts: it worked. đ
The incongruity of The Brute is nothing short of mind-boggling, though. Is this simple, natural insanity or a Mind Working gone too far?
Oh no, the villains are inconveniently people and not just props to be disposed of. n.n
I have to wonder about the brute. She’s either not understanding what’s going on, or that feel-good Working really has her in a strange state, or is seriously mentally unbalanced.
That said, the plan worked, and the brute doesn’t seem to want to bother MĂ©lanie as she’s freeing Jasper, which is all to the good. However, the problem remains of how MĂ©lanie and Jasper — and the house — will deal with Anan.