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bradygirl_12Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (Project K Arc) (8/54)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce (Bruce does not appear in this chapter), Dick, Alfred, Jackie Star, Roy/Johnny, Harold Allston, Deb Shelton, Brad Stryker, Sam Elkins, Jim Gordon, Carl Medgar
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. New superheroes appear on the scene as the Abolitionist Movement gathers strength. Meanwhile, Lex gets his heart’s desire while long-held secrets begin to spill out of the Manor. Nothing will ever be the same again.
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, Slavefic
Challenge Category: Section E (Slavefic)
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Clark heads off trouble.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): August 30, 2009
Date Of Posting: November 22, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1724
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Written for my 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
Author’s Note: I deliberately used the term ‘Indian’ instead of ‘Native American’ because I figured that a Government as oppressive as the one in this universe would not care one whit for what a group of people wanted to call themselves, especially this group, considering their circumstances.
Angels of Mercy
In white,
Crisp and caring.
They stave off
Death
Every day
And night.
Beware
The Angel of Death
Among them.
VIII
THE ANGEL OF DEATH
Clark put a blanket over a sleeping Dick. The boy was curled up in one of the uncomfortable chairs but was tired enough to sleep even there. Last night’s patrol had been a busy one, wearing the boy out.
Bruce was at work, but his slaves were well-guarded. Alfred was sleeping, and Jackie Star came in to check on her patient. The television was on low volume, playing the fire in Boston and Wonder Woman’s rescue of the brownstone tenants. Jackie checked Alfred’s vitals and glanced up at the TV.
“She’s really a wonder.”
Clark grinned. “Your sister got the first interview with her, didn’t she?”
Jackie smiled proudly. “Yes, she did.”
“She has as much talent as Lois Lane, doesn’t she?”
“Oh, yes. She knows Ms. Lane.”
Clark cocked his head. “That must be quite a meeting of the minds.”
Jackie laughed. “Very. Both women are extremely strong-willed.”
“I got that impression when I met her.”
“Ah, then you know." Jackie made a last check on Alfred. “Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you, ma’am.”
Jackie smiled at the sleeping Dick, leaving the room quietly.
Clark was relaxed, keeping watch over Alfred and Dick. He was grateful for the guards close by. He didn’t expect to undergo any problems, but one never knew, especially as a slave.
Clark read while his charges slept, and was startled by a figure suddenly appearing at Alfred’s bedside.
I didn’t hear him come in at all!
He recognized the dark-haired man as one of the paramedics who had treated Alfred.
“Hi, just thought I’d check on him.” Johnny smiled. “Seems to be doing better.”
“He is.” Clark noticed the jewelry that Johnny wore. “That’s beautiful beadwork you’re wearing.”
Johnny hesitated a moment, then said, “Thank you.”
The bracelets that Johnny wore were white beads, tiny beads of yellow, red, blue, green, and purple threaded through the jewelry. It matched the collar he wore and set off the slender man’s brown-eyed beauty.
Suddenly Clark realized what he was looking at, touching his own rainbow manacles.
Artistic slave jewelry…but, that means slaves can be firefighter/paramedics? I must have been too distracted to notice him wearing these at the house. I don’t think his partner was wearing any.
Clark suddenly felt embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I have an addled memory. Sometimes I don’t know things.”
“It’s okay.” Johnny smiled a crooked grin. “Yes, slaves can be firefighters/paramedics.” The guy was good at reading minds! “Since I’m Government-owned…” he noticed Clark’s look of confusion “…I’m half-Indian. Indians are automatically slaves. The Government keeps us on reservations but loans us out when necessary.”
“Oh.” Clark didn’t know what else to say. “I, um, so you were trained as a firefighter?”
Johnny nodded, smoothing a strand of raven hair back from his face. “Originally I was trained as a pleasure slave, but after…well, I couldn’t function as one for awhile, so I was trained as a firefighter.”
Johnny moved in front of the window, his face shadowed as his body was backlit. Clark shivered at the matter-of-fact way that the other man had spoken of injuries that had knocked him out of his primary function.
Johnny moved again, and this time he was smiling. Clark could see why this slender young man had been originally been a bedslave.
“Roy saw potential in me and pushed to allow me paramedic training. Now I’m his partner at Station 51. It’s a great bunch of guys there. Captain Stanley is my Primary Master, since he’s in charge, but Roy is my Intimate Master since we frequently go out on calls alone.”
The way Johnny’s eyes lit up as he spoke about Roy made Clark suspect that he shared the same kind of relationship that Clark did with Bruce.
His instincts were confirmed as Dr. Allston and Roy DeSoto entered the room.
“How’s Alfred doing?” asked the blond paramedic.
“Much better,” said Clark, clearly seeing the look of adoration in Johnny’s eyes. Maybe the paramedic felt safe revealing it in front of a fellow slave. Dr. Allston was busy checking on Alfred.
“Great. Hey, Junior, ready for some lunch?”
“Sure thing.”
“When it comes to food, you’re always ready!” Roy’s blue eyes sparkled as Johnny laughed.
Johnny joined Roy, who smiled at him with some adoration of his own and patted his partner’s lean stomach, murmuring fondly, “Bottomless pit,” as Johnny grinned. Roy gently squeezed Johnny’s hand, then put an arm around his shoulders.
“’Bye, guys,” said Clark, the paramedics waving as they headed for the cafeteria.
& & & & & &
Harold checked on Alfred, glancing over at Clark. “How are you today, young man?”
“Fine today, thank you, Dr. Allston.”
“Good.” Harold wrote on Alfred’s chart. “I think that Alfred will be able to go home very soon.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Harold smiled. “Always enjoy delivering good news.” He patted Clark’s shoulder and continued his rounds.
& & & & & &
Clark dozed, half-aware of a nurse coming in. She took Alfred’s vitals, wrote on his chart, and turned slightly.
Clark’s blood froze as he recognized the nurse who had been hostile to him outside of the men’s room.
He pretended sleep, watching her through slitted eyes. He didn’t trust her for a second.
She put the chart back at the foot of the bed and left the room, Clark breathing a sigh of relief. He stood up and checked Alfred, relieved again to see his friend untouched.
He glanced at Dick and decided to get something to drink. He asked Brad to come with him, and Sam stayed to keep watch over Dick and Alfred.
He and Brad walked down the hall to the vending machines, Clark choosing three sodas, shyly asking the security man, “Would you and Mr. Elkins like sodas?”
Brad smiled slightly. “That would be fine. Coke for me and 7-Up for Sam.”
Clark proudly paid with his own money, grateful for the wages that Bruce gave him. Brad took the cans for Sam and himself, and Clark juggled his as Brad escorted him back to Alfred’s room.
Clark felt comfortable with both Brad and his partner. Bruce had rigorously vetted every man and woman who would be assigned as personal bodyguards to his slaves. He wanted no slave-haters or sadists. He always did extensive background checks on all security for the estate, but had triple-checked these personnel teams. As a final precaution, Bruce had insisted that his slaves tell him if there was any abuse.
Clark trusted Brad, who had been nothing but courteous to him. That was why when they passed a room and Clark saw Nurse Shelton bending over a moaning manacled man in bed, he clutched Brad’s arm.
“Mr. Stryker,” he whispered urgently. “There’s something odd about that nurse. She’s hostile toward slaves.”
A silver eyebrow lifted, but Brad put the cans into his jacket pockets and strode into the room, seeing the glint of light on a needle. “Hey!” He grabbed Shelton’s arm.
“What the fuck?” she screamed.
Brad wrenched the needle out of her hand. “Odd using a needle. I thought hyposprays were all the thing,” he drawled.
Shelton snarled and fought like a tiger. Clark rushed in, the soda cans dropping with a loud rattle, and Brad said, “Glad for the help,” allowing Clark to lay hands on the freewoman.
She jerked away as Clark’s hand reached for her.
“I don’t want those filthy slave hands on me!”
“Tough,” Brad said. “Odd attitude for a nurse working in an S.A. hospital.”
She swore and he shoved her up against the wall, Clark taking the handcuffs off the bodyguard’s belt and snapping them on Shelton’s wrists as Brad pulled her arms around her back.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get these fuckin’ cuffs off me!”
“Sorry, Nurse. Something’s fishier here than a New England lobster wharf.”
Clark couldn’t help but grin. He hurried over to the bed. “Are you all right?”
The middle-aged man groaned. Clark realized that the patient was woozy from medication.
“Call Jim Gordon, kid.”
Clark nodded and hurried out, going to the nurses’ station. Cellphone use was forbidden within the hospital.
“What’s all the ruckus in Room 106?” asked a sharp-eyed nurse.
“Master Wayne’s Security Chief has a nurse in custody. He asked me to call Commissioner Gordon.”
“What!” A thin nurse pushed her way to the desk. “What do you mean, ‘in custody’?”
“She tried to use a needle on the slave patient in 106.”
“Crap,” said the first nurse. “Call the Commissioner.”
Clark picked up the landline.
& & & & & &
Jim came personally. Brad Stryker coolly handed over the raving Deborah Shelton.
“How she got through the screening process is curious,” Jim said.
The Chief Administrator of the hospital, a grim-faced man in an expensive suit, bristled at Jim’s comment. “Our screening process is impeccable.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “Then why did Nurse Shelton slip through?”
Carl Medgar took a step forward. “It was not our fault.”
“Mr. Medgar, I’m not going to argue with you. This woman tried to kill that patient. If you check your records, you may find more incidents such as this. Have you had an inordinate amount of slave patient deaths? Unexplained reactions to drugs?”
Medgar glared. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You’re right, you wouldn’t know. But I will. I’m going to have a team of detectives comb through your records with a fine-toothed comb.”
Medgar scrunched up his bulldog-like face as he sputtered, “You can’t do that! I’ll speak to Mr. Wayne!”
Jim smiled. “You do that. I’m sure he will be very interested in slaves being abused and possibly murdered in the hospital his family founded and he finances.”
Medgar went pale, then abruptly turned on his heel and went to his office.
Jim went down to Alfred’s room, speaking to Brad outside at the door, then went inside.
“Good job, my boy,” Jim said to Clark, who beamed. “You’ve got a good eye.”
“Thank you, Commissioner.”
“Everything okay here?”
“Wonderful, Commissioner!” Dick said, standing close to the bed.
“Good.” Jim smiled at Alfred. “Carry on, gentlemen.”
Jim left the room, confident that Bruce’s slaves were well-protected.
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Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce (Bruce does not appear in this chapter), Dick, Alfred, Jackie Star, Roy/Johnny, Harold Allston, Deb Shelton, Brad Stryker, Sam Elkins, Jim Gordon, Carl Medgar
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. New superheroes appear on the scene as the Abolitionist Movement gathers strength. Meanwhile, Lex gets his heart’s desire while long-held secrets begin to spill out of the Manor. Nothing will ever be the same again.
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, Slavefic
Challenge Category: Section E (Slavefic)
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Clark heads off trouble.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): August 30, 2009
Date Of Posting: November 22, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1724
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Written for my 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
Author’s Note: I deliberately used the term ‘Indian’ instead of ‘Native American’ because I figured that a Government as oppressive as the one in this universe would not care one whit for what a group of people wanted to call themselves, especially this group, considering their circumstances.
In white,
Crisp and caring.
They stave off
Death
Every day
And night.
Beware
The Angel of Death
Among them.
Elsinore Gentry
"Angels"
1906 C.E.
THE ANGEL OF DEATH
Clark put a blanket over a sleeping Dick. The boy was curled up in one of the uncomfortable chairs but was tired enough to sleep even there. Last night’s patrol had been a busy one, wearing the boy out.
Bruce was at work, but his slaves were well-guarded. Alfred was sleeping, and Jackie Star came in to check on her patient. The television was on low volume, playing the fire in Boston and Wonder Woman’s rescue of the brownstone tenants. Jackie checked Alfred’s vitals and glanced up at the TV.
“She’s really a wonder.”
Clark grinned. “Your sister got the first interview with her, didn’t she?”
Jackie smiled proudly. “Yes, she did.”
“She has as much talent as Lois Lane, doesn’t she?”
“Oh, yes. She knows Ms. Lane.”
Clark cocked his head. “That must be quite a meeting of the minds.”
Jackie laughed. “Very. Both women are extremely strong-willed.”
“I got that impression when I met her.”
“Ah, then you know." Jackie made a last check on Alfred. “Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you, ma’am.”
Jackie smiled at the sleeping Dick, leaving the room quietly.
Clark was relaxed, keeping watch over Alfred and Dick. He was grateful for the guards close by. He didn’t expect to undergo any problems, but one never knew, especially as a slave.
Clark read while his charges slept, and was startled by a figure suddenly appearing at Alfred’s bedside.
I didn’t hear him come in at all!
He recognized the dark-haired man as one of the paramedics who had treated Alfred.
“Hi, just thought I’d check on him.” Johnny smiled. “Seems to be doing better.”
“He is.” Clark noticed the jewelry that Johnny wore. “That’s beautiful beadwork you’re wearing.”
Johnny hesitated a moment, then said, “Thank you.”
The bracelets that Johnny wore were white beads, tiny beads of yellow, red, blue, green, and purple threaded through the jewelry. It matched the collar he wore and set off the slender man’s brown-eyed beauty.
Suddenly Clark realized what he was looking at, touching his own rainbow manacles.
Artistic slave jewelry…but, that means slaves can be firefighter/paramedics? I must have been too distracted to notice him wearing these at the house. I don’t think his partner was wearing any.
Clark suddenly felt embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I have an addled memory. Sometimes I don’t know things.”
“It’s okay.” Johnny smiled a crooked grin. “Yes, slaves can be firefighters/paramedics.” The guy was good at reading minds! “Since I’m Government-owned…” he noticed Clark’s look of confusion “…I’m half-Indian. Indians are automatically slaves. The Government keeps us on reservations but loans us out when necessary.”
“Oh.” Clark didn’t know what else to say. “I, um, so you were trained as a firefighter?”
Johnny nodded, smoothing a strand of raven hair back from his face. “Originally I was trained as a pleasure slave, but after…well, I couldn’t function as one for awhile, so I was trained as a firefighter.”
Johnny moved in front of the window, his face shadowed as his body was backlit. Clark shivered at the matter-of-fact way that the other man had spoken of injuries that had knocked him out of his primary function.
Johnny moved again, and this time he was smiling. Clark could see why this slender young man had been originally been a bedslave.
“Roy saw potential in me and pushed to allow me paramedic training. Now I’m his partner at Station 51. It’s a great bunch of guys there. Captain Stanley is my Primary Master, since he’s in charge, but Roy is my Intimate Master since we frequently go out on calls alone.”
The way Johnny’s eyes lit up as he spoke about Roy made Clark suspect that he shared the same kind of relationship that Clark did with Bruce.
His instincts were confirmed as Dr. Allston and Roy DeSoto entered the room.
“How’s Alfred doing?” asked the blond paramedic.
“Much better,” said Clark, clearly seeing the look of adoration in Johnny’s eyes. Maybe the paramedic felt safe revealing it in front of a fellow slave. Dr. Allston was busy checking on Alfred.
“Great. Hey, Junior, ready for some lunch?”
“Sure thing.”
“When it comes to food, you’re always ready!” Roy’s blue eyes sparkled as Johnny laughed.
Johnny joined Roy, who smiled at him with some adoration of his own and patted his partner’s lean stomach, murmuring fondly, “Bottomless pit,” as Johnny grinned. Roy gently squeezed Johnny’s hand, then put an arm around his shoulders.
“’Bye, guys,” said Clark, the paramedics waving as they headed for the cafeteria.
Harold checked on Alfred, glancing over at Clark. “How are you today, young man?”
“Fine today, thank you, Dr. Allston.”
“Good.” Harold wrote on Alfred’s chart. “I think that Alfred will be able to go home very soon.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Harold smiled. “Always enjoy delivering good news.” He patted Clark’s shoulder and continued his rounds.
Clark dozed, half-aware of a nurse coming in. She took Alfred’s vitals, wrote on his chart, and turned slightly.
Clark’s blood froze as he recognized the nurse who had been hostile to him outside of the men’s room.
He pretended sleep, watching her through slitted eyes. He didn’t trust her for a second.
She put the chart back at the foot of the bed and left the room, Clark breathing a sigh of relief. He stood up and checked Alfred, relieved again to see his friend untouched.
He glanced at Dick and decided to get something to drink. He asked Brad to come with him, and Sam stayed to keep watch over Dick and Alfred.
He and Brad walked down the hall to the vending machines, Clark choosing three sodas, shyly asking the security man, “Would you and Mr. Elkins like sodas?”
Brad smiled slightly. “That would be fine. Coke for me and 7-Up for Sam.”
Clark proudly paid with his own money, grateful for the wages that Bruce gave him. Brad took the cans for Sam and himself, and Clark juggled his as Brad escorted him back to Alfred’s room.
Clark felt comfortable with both Brad and his partner. Bruce had rigorously vetted every man and woman who would be assigned as personal bodyguards to his slaves. He wanted no slave-haters or sadists. He always did extensive background checks on all security for the estate, but had triple-checked these personnel teams. As a final precaution, Bruce had insisted that his slaves tell him if there was any abuse.
Clark trusted Brad, who had been nothing but courteous to him. That was why when they passed a room and Clark saw Nurse Shelton bending over a moaning manacled man in bed, he clutched Brad’s arm.
“Mr. Stryker,” he whispered urgently. “There’s something odd about that nurse. She’s hostile toward slaves.”
A silver eyebrow lifted, but Brad put the cans into his jacket pockets and strode into the room, seeing the glint of light on a needle. “Hey!” He grabbed Shelton’s arm.
“What the fuck?” she screamed.
Brad wrenched the needle out of her hand. “Odd using a needle. I thought hyposprays were all the thing,” he drawled.
Shelton snarled and fought like a tiger. Clark rushed in, the soda cans dropping with a loud rattle, and Brad said, “Glad for the help,” allowing Clark to lay hands on the freewoman.
She jerked away as Clark’s hand reached for her.
“I don’t want those filthy slave hands on me!”
“Tough,” Brad said. “Odd attitude for a nurse working in an S.A. hospital.”
She swore and he shoved her up against the wall, Clark taking the handcuffs off the bodyguard’s belt and snapping them on Shelton’s wrists as Brad pulled her arms around her back.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get these fuckin’ cuffs off me!”
“Sorry, Nurse. Something’s fishier here than a New England lobster wharf.”
Clark couldn’t help but grin. He hurried over to the bed. “Are you all right?”
The middle-aged man groaned. Clark realized that the patient was woozy from medication.
“Call Jim Gordon, kid.”
Clark nodded and hurried out, going to the nurses’ station. Cellphone use was forbidden within the hospital.
“What’s all the ruckus in Room 106?” asked a sharp-eyed nurse.
“Master Wayne’s Security Chief has a nurse in custody. He asked me to call Commissioner Gordon.”
“What!” A thin nurse pushed her way to the desk. “What do you mean, ‘in custody’?”
“She tried to use a needle on the slave patient in 106.”
“Crap,” said the first nurse. “Call the Commissioner.”
Clark picked up the landline.
Jim came personally. Brad Stryker coolly handed over the raving Deborah Shelton.
“How she got through the screening process is curious,” Jim said.
The Chief Administrator of the hospital, a grim-faced man in an expensive suit, bristled at Jim’s comment. “Our screening process is impeccable.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “Then why did Nurse Shelton slip through?”
Carl Medgar took a step forward. “It was not our fault.”
“Mr. Medgar, I’m not going to argue with you. This woman tried to kill that patient. If you check your records, you may find more incidents such as this. Have you had an inordinate amount of slave patient deaths? Unexplained reactions to drugs?”
Medgar glared. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You’re right, you wouldn’t know. But I will. I’m going to have a team of detectives comb through your records with a fine-toothed comb.”
Medgar scrunched up his bulldog-like face as he sputtered, “You can’t do that! I’ll speak to Mr. Wayne!”
Jim smiled. “You do that. I’m sure he will be very interested in slaves being abused and possibly murdered in the hospital his family founded and he finances.”
Medgar went pale, then abruptly turned on his heel and went to his office.
Jim went down to Alfred’s room, speaking to Brad outside at the door, then went inside.
“Good job, my boy,” Jim said to Clark, who beamed. “You’ve got a good eye.”
“Thank you, Commissioner.”
“Everything okay here?”
“Wonderful, Commissioner!” Dick said, standing close to the bed.
“Good.” Jim smiled at Alfred. “Carry on, gentlemen.”
Jim left the room, confident that Bruce’s slaves were well-protected.
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 04:06 am (UTC)Even the helping professions have twisted types. :(
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 02:20 am (UTC)I get such a kick out of Gage and DeSoto showing up in this story. I grew up on that show.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 04:09 am (UTC)He's picked up a few things living with the World's Greatest Detective. :)
I get such a kick out of Gage and DeSoto showing up in this story. I grew up on that show.
Me, too! :)
I've had a blast writing Roy/Johnny. I've still got a bunch of stories in my notebook queue to post starring these two. :)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 02:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 04:11 am (UTC)*grins*
Glad it didn't disappoint! :)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 02:40 am (UTC)And fascinating choice, making Johnny a slave; I wouldn't have thought slaves could hold a job like that, either!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 04:15 am (UTC)He's always been pretty observant. :)
And fascinating choice, making Johnny a slave; I wouldn't have thought slaves could hold a job like that, either!
They are pretty restricted when it comes to jobs. To be honest, training slaves as firefighters is still controversial, and there aren't a lot of them, though some people figure it's perfectly fine for slaves to be in high-risk occupations, like the military, because that keeps freemen safe.
I'd say that Johnny might be the first slave paramedic, sort of paralleling the early days of the program and how controversial it was.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 02:47 am (UTC)Johnny and Roy cam back. Very cool. The fact that all indians were immediately slaves fits the story so well but really saddened me. Loving more of this honey! Would have commented earlier but once again. I only got the master post. lol I'm cursed!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 04:18 am (UTC)There was definitely danger, Will Robinson! :)
Johnny and Roy came back. Very cool. The fact that all indians were immediately slaves fits the story so well but really saddened me.
It seemed to fit, considering RL treatment of Native Americans. *sighs*
Loving more of this honey! Would have commented earlier but once again. I only got the master post. lol I'm cursed!
Tsk, tsk! Screwy LJ! :)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 03:01 am (UTC)Oh that could be a bit awkward. Though I think it's cool that you can apparently get bedazled slave jewelry. This probably suggest that something is fundamentally wrong with me.
It also gives me hope that slaves can become paramedics. ...I take it back. Oh my God. I kind of want to be sick. Any Native American is automatically a slave regardless of how much Native American blood they have? Gah it reminds me of how Nazis decided if you were Jewish enough or not. Did the government actually own slaves in actual US history or is this all your own invention? I know individual presidents did but I had never heard of federally owned slaves. Okay. I'll try and let this go now.
..I'm not sure I want to ask what happened to him. His relationship with Roy is adorable though. It must be comforting for Clark to see other Master and Slave relationships that try and do what he does with Bruce.
Aww Clark! There's something sad yet adorable about him being so proud that he can buy his bodyguards something to drink.
She creeps me out too, Clark. It's good that you told Brad.
Oh dear this looks like it's going to be a mess. And apparently that other nurse knows it too.
Buddy, you are not going to win this fight against Jim Gordon. And if you keep your job after Bruce gets wind of this I'll be surprised because he is sure as hell gonna be pissed.
Great chapter! I can't wait for Alfred to get discharged!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 04:29 am (UTC)*laughs*
Oh that could be a bit awkward. Though I think it's cool that you can apparently get bedazled slave jewelry. This probably suggest that something is fundamentally wrong with me.
No, you just like pretty jewelry! ;)
It also gives me hope that slaves can become paramedics. ...I take it back. Oh my God. I kind of want to be sick. Any Native American is automatically a slave regardless of how much Native American blood they have? Gah it reminds me of how Nazis decided if you were Jewish enough or not.
It's got that eugenics thing going, all right.
Did the government actually own slaves in actual US history or is this all your own invention?
The U.S. Government, to my knowledge, never enslaved Native Americans (it was attempted very early in American history by private owners) but there's a long history of mistreatment by the Feds toward this group. They were, during and after conclusion of the Indian Wars in the 19th century, herded onto reservations and there were strict rules about ever leaving 'the rez'. It's probably where the current slang, "He's gone off the reservation' to indicate a rogue comes from. The tribes were given the poorest land and there's always been a high percentage of alcoholism, poverty, and unemployment on the reservations. I don't know if that's significantly changed since the ruling that Native Americans could build and operate casinos now.
I know individual presidents did but I had never heard of federally owned slaves. Okay. I'll try and let this go now.
No, it's an interesting topic. I'm pretty sure that the Government wasn't in the slave business though undoubtedly some individuals were. It was pretty much private enterprise.
I thought the parallel would be interesting for this 'verse. Since the Native Americans were already traditionally confined to reservations, it made sense (in this world) that they'd be a 'special case' and end up automatic slaves, whether full-blooded or not.
...I'm not sure I want to ask what happened to him.
That's a story possibly for a future chapter. :)
His relationship with Roy is adorable though.
Roy and Johnny go together like peanut butter and chocolate! ;)
It must be comforting for Clark to see other Master and Slave relationships that try and do what he does with Bruce.
He loves seeing the two of them! :)
Aww Clark! There's something sad yet adorable about him being so proud that he can buy his bodyguards something to drink.
Bruce gives all his slaves regular wages. Even though technically any money they have is automatically his, he and they consider the money theirs.
She creeps me out too, Clark. It's good that you told Brad.
There's always types like that lurking around.
Oh dear this looks like it's going to be a mess. And apparently that other nurse knows it too.
A BIG mess!
Buddy, you are not going to win this fight against Jim Gordon.
Never! :)
And if you keep your job after Bruce gets wind of this I'll be surprised because he is sure as hell gonna be pissed.
Correct! :)
Great chapter! I can't wait for Alfred to get discharged!
He'll get a royal homecoming. ;)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 08:48 am (UTC)Lemme guess - ebil Nurse Wretched used to work for the Caldwells, right? Heck, she's ebil enough to be a blood relation... frakkin' Caldwells, give THEM the needle and REALLY clean up Gotham...
Happy Thanksgiving!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 05:50 pm (UTC)Insurance could very well be part of this mess!
Lemme guess - ebil Nurse Wretched used to work for the Caldwells, right? Heck, she's ebil enough to be a blood relation... frakkin' Caldwells, give THEM the needle and REALLY clean up Gotham...
She certainly agrees with the Caldwells. :(
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thank you! And Happy Thanksgiving to you, too! :)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 11:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 05:52 pm (UTC)Bruce will be very pleased! And Nurse Shelton has no place in the Wayne family's hospital.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 03:00 pm (UTC)Did the nurse have an ulterior motive for killing the slave or did she just do it out of spite?
Also I'm wondering. You said here that all native-american are slaves, and that makes sense in this world. But wasn't Roy Harper originaly owned by Brave Bow? Or am I mixing things up?
no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 05:56 pm (UTC)Thank you. :)
Did the nurse have an ulterior motive for killing the slave or did she just do it out of spite?
Pure hate.
Also I'm wondering. You said here that all native-american are slaves, and that makes sense in this world. But wasn't Roy Harper originaly owned by Brave Bow? Or am I mixing things up?
I suspect that Brave Bow didn't really 'own' Roy, but was the one assigned to look out for him. For whatever reason, Roy was allowed to live on the reservation and was Government-owned for a little while until Brave Bow's death and the destruction of the reservation.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-26 12:22 am (UTC)That last line makes me slightly worried as it sounds like foreshadowing but maybe that's just me.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-26 03:10 am (UTC)Yeah, it wouldn't be treated as murder at all.
That last line makes me slightly worried as it sounds like foreshadowing but maybe that's just me.
Always be nervous in this 'verse! :)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-28 01:14 am (UTC)But somebody's in trouble for letting that nurse slip in on staff!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-30 01:02 am (UTC)Showing his super self! ;)
But somebody's in trouble for letting that nurse slip in on staff!
Truly! Funny how you can check somebody out but some can still slip by you.