Poor WJ

*Weeks pass, the mechs turned Amin are getting used to their new bodies. Everything is easier now, and they're movements are starting to feel natural. They've done a bit of training with Amory and scraps, the exercises helping to make their movements, actions and reactions, come more natural and easy in their current forms. Today, Amory has deemed them able to pick up with their help on patrols if they wish. He's given them a bit of training with a weapon of their choice and feels they're familiar enough with their new bodies to help*

*The Amin-mechs are . . . EXCEEDINGLY unsure of themselves, divested as they are of...well, feels like /everything/ - their HUDs to know how their bodies are doing, their sensors and scanners, stabilizers, weapons, /everything/.  Both have NOTABLY lost confidence in themselves.  THE. MOST. UPSETTING. to them, however, was the day one of them realized they'd both lost their brands.  They've never said anything to anyone else - though it's possible someone overheard - but . . . there's been a bit more sense of loss to each of them, though they've both agreed that it's "just a symbol" and that they are who they are and stand for what they stand for with or without it, that the loss doesn't negate the oaths they took.  But try to deny it, it's a loss they both still feel, injury added to the insult of the new bodies in general . . . neither of them feels ready, but if Amory thinks they are, they're certainly more than willing to try to take up their fair pull of weight again, especially now that they're so DIRECTLY dependent on the household.*

*No one really thinks about the brands, and so it never comes up. Over the next couple weeks the Amin-mechs prove themselves. Despite the new bodies and weapons they are still seasoned warriors and will help a few times to directly protect the house. One day, though, things will go horribly wrong. Bee, WJ, and Amory are attacked. The fight is fast and vicious. Bee is injured, badly. Amory will manage to snatch him up and run with him, but WJ will not be so lucky, he's subdued and bound and carried off by a number of men. Amory is silently apologizing the whole way back, swearing to WJ that he'll be found and saved, and to Bee that he'll be okay, he won't die today...*

WJ: *is /snarling/ in the fight, but as he's overcome, his fight /changes/ and he's PANICKY AND DESPERATE AND /SHRIEKING/ TO BE LET GO . . . the shrieks die to terrified /whimpers/ to not be hurt once he's well and truly bound*

*WJ will be quickly loaded into a wagon, much like the one Darien and others had been in. He's not alone, but no one will dare to move to untie him. the wagons will quickly move away from the area...*

WJ: *by the time they get to the wagon, he's not /aware/ of anyone else being around him in it - he's too far withdrawn into himself, eyes /squeezed/ closed, half-waiting for the agony of an electro-whip and trying to escape it - or being melded with! - as far into himself as he can get*

*Lost in his mind, lost in time, WJ won't be aware of how much time passes. He might be aware of being manhandled to force water or a small amount of food down him on a number of occasions, and he'll be struck repeatedly and cursed for "fighting". Finally, what he's dreading will happen. He won't know the reason, or if there is one, but he'll be chained behind a wagon, and after a moment there's a CRACK followed by a line of FIRE across his back!*

WJ: *there probably isn't one, there doesn't /need/ to be one! - that doesn't keep the sobbing CRY from ripping from him...and then he's begging softly throught frightened sobs*  P-please!  Please don't!  Please, I-I'll be good!

*Lash after lash, it'll feel like it goes forever, though he'll take only fifteen before he's taken down and packed back into the wagon. This will become routine every few days, not that WJ is aware enough to know this. Finally he'll be brought out and displayed....and purchased.*

Man: Get up. You'll come with me, is that clear?

WJ: *has...lost a lot of fur from stress - it's been coming out in /clumps/ - and he's yet to meet anyone's eyes, pulled far in on himself unless /forced/ out...and even then he's only just present enough to obey commands, eyes dark, glassy, and /vacant/ . . . he nods dully*

Man: Good.  Come. *he'll take WJ by the elbow and lead him away.  They'll walk for a long time before stopping someplace completely out of sight from any others.  His tone is softer now* Sit.  You're going to be okay now.  You're safe.  What is your name?