Re: Holding Pens: Jackson
This had been a spare of the moment thing for Isaiah. Just a method to leave his dark and cold manor. Sure. He could make the excuse that he was here because he needed new slaves. Although, if he was to be honest; that was utter bullshit. It was waste of money if anything. Isaiah could care less about his 'status' and really, what good were slaves when they just kept dying? He was cruel and he knew it. He didn't care about his servants and he didn't want the responsibility for them. It was just throwing money away. Yet, here he was. Walking among the pins and passively admiring the new stock. Ignoring helpful handlers and his fellow masters; Isaiah drifted in a state of dull curiosity. He didn't care if he went home with a new slave or not; but he knew he wasn't fully against the idea. Even if he planned for his existence to end in the near future;his house could be at least cleaned before he was gone. Coming to the end of the long row, Isaiah checked his watch as a sigh passed his lips. He'd been here for a total of an hour and still nothing had really caught his eye. Not paying attention, he mistakenly brushed his arm against one of the mistresses by mistake. Moving his eyes up, he gave a circuitous bow with his head before turning his gaze to the pen she had exited from. Pausing in his steps, he took a moment to look over the shirtless young boy. This had caught the attention of the handler who was attempting to barren him off. "Hello." Came the greeting and without a moments hesitation; Isaiah walked pass the man without a single form of acknowledgement. "You, what is story behind the scars." Isaiah demanded, his voice curling with his accent around the r's. He hadn't been paying attention before, but now he was actually instead. Who knew damages could be so eye catching.