“Still here and still can’t get used to it”
"It’s all still like a nightmare you can’t wake yourself up from...”
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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“Still here and still can’t get used to it”
"It’s all still like a nightmare you can’t wake yourself up from...”
Malia strolled through the manor, intending to head downstairs to pick up some entertainment. Though she wasn’t sure what she was in the mood for, the witch soon caught sight of someone that might warrant her attention.
She was calm now, sitting quietly in the corner, away from most others. Not because she was scared of them, simply because she wanted to be alone. But when the woman stopped, her eyes raised. “---what? Did I do something?”
“I finally come to grace the Manor with my presence, only to find we’ve been relocated to this pathetic little place. I can’t say I’m happy.”
"This place wouldn’t make someone happy even if we hadn’t been moved to shared quarters.”
“I said stop!” The little witch screamed out, shoving the guard away from her. But his hands were quickly on her hips, and he jerked her closer-- knowing that the girl couldn’t use her magic on her. He was taunting her, tormenting her. She slapped him harshly, the smack sounding through the cell before she fell back. Davina pushed herself on her hands, sliding farther back from him. “--stay away from me.”
Katya was leaving. She had come downstairs to consider the company of a slave, but none appeared to pique her interest as Veronica did, yet the voice that appeared — and from seemingly out of nowhere — was so polite that it made her pause in the doorway, and then turn. “Who has just spoken?” The vampire’s eyes slowly roamed over the faces behind the bars.
Davina raised her hand, unsure if the woman was irritated by her request or not. But if she was going to get punished, she would rather it go ahead and be done, instead of threats here or there, or prolonging it. “I did.” She stepped closer to her bars, “Just a little, if you could.”
“Excuse me,” she spoke up quickly to the passing person. “Can I have some water, please?”
“It really isn’t that bad,” Caroline told her. “I mean, once you get used to the sex and the torture. You just got to try to keep them in a good mood by being a good girl, and then it’s usually okay. I mean, at least now I can have baths every morning and eat chocolate and stuff.”
“I can’t use my magic anymore. Not here. For a witch, that’s pretty bad.” Especially when it was locked away inside of her, begging to get out, practically bruising her against her seams. “The regular bathing part sounds good-- but I’d want one that will let me at least get out /some/ magic. This is... torturous.”
There was a breathy chuckle that escaped the vampire before any words appeared. “Indeed.” She agreed. “Which… is a shame. I prefer my dolls to… not be frayed at their stitching. But my preferences hardly make a difference here.” She spoke slowly, as if she had all the time in the world Suddenly her dead eyes fell upon the girl. “You have some thoughts on the subject?”
"You would think that everyone would have that mindset... but no. It seems shriveling and sickly tend to be rather sought-after features in the ones down here.” She shook her head. She was lucky she wasn’t like some, who she doubted even got to see the outside of the cells. “Aside from the fact that better food, actual clean clothes, and conditions should be better?”
Caroline shrugged, “The only way I want to live, if I can’t go home, is under him. Once he gets bored of me, if he doesn’t send me home, I’d rather die than to become someone elses pet instead. So, no, it doesn’t really bother me anymore. Your body can adapt and grow used to anything to survive.”
She stared at the girl almost blankly. For a brief moment, she wondered if the girl had been brainwashed at all. Or... compelled, even? Perhaps. “I’d rather die than be anyone’s pet, and I’d rather go home before then.” Wherever home was now. Davina shrugged -- “I’ll never adapt to being here. But I don’t want to.”
Katja entered the cell area with a small sneer to her top lip. It smelt God awful down here, and by the looks of it more than half of the company was underweight or malnourished. “A manor of this calibre could have spared a few pennies for decent holdings, at the very least…”
"They don’t care,” the young girl spoke up suddenly. “All they want to do is pass us off, have their little bit of fun, then shove us back in these stupid, ugly cells.”
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Caroline shrugged, “I’m his Pet.” The crawling wasn’t a big deal to her. She only had to crawl in his presence. “It could always be worse- that being said, it could always be better, too.”
“That doesn’t bother you?” Her brows raised, and she slowly shook her head. “Being a toy to someone? A pet? No decisions of your own? That he could kill you and no one could do anything?” Her tone showed her disbelief and despair at the situation.
“A con to what? Being claimed? Well, every night I’m used. By the same man, but still. I don’t get a break. I have to crawl like an animal whenever I’m in his presence, I’m continuously taunted by the outside world, Master can do whatever he wants to me- kill me, even, and no one could get mad at him.”
“You have to crawl like an animal?” Her brows raised. That wasn’t something she expected to hear-- nor something she wanted to have to do herself. “I don’t want to be claimed.” She wanted to get out. And fast. Only having to really be with the same person sounded good... but the limitlessness on what they could do to you soured it. She missed Cami. She’d know what to do... or say to her to lessen all of this anxiety.
“You’re bleeding...” She ripped a small part of her shirt, bringing it up to rub along beneath his nose.
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Feeling the eyes on her, the little witch turned to face the vampire, but she didn't speak at first. She was just watching him, curious to what he wanted.