Y/N, the bastard daughter of King Ultra Magnus & a servant who died birthing her, never fit in amongst the other femmes. She learned to never speak to those around her unless spoken to & even then if she answered she'd be struck. She'd escape if it...
"There she goes, another walking disgrace upon his Highness's title."
"They should have slaughtered her the moment she was born."
"Or banished her like they did with the first one."
"Psst, I bet you can't beam her with this balled rag."
The wet rag splatters against the side of your dingy helm before sliding down without any of your help or care as you continue down the hall, avoiding any & all physical contact that would most certainly lead to you getting pummeled thoroughly by those nearest to you in reference to proximity & you getting blamed for the scuffle somehow before being thrown into the dungeon to starve for differing amounts of time, the longest being a week & a half. Being the bastard daughter of King Ultra Magnus & a severely disliked slave that died upon your birth, damning you with the title of "Carrier Killing Bastard" by your Carrier's closest friends that couldn't bring themselves to kill you due to you looking like your Carrier in some circumstances but that doesn't stop the new slaves from doing as they please in a noncarnal since. How original. You thankfully manage to make your way past the indoor workers to rejoin the rest of the slaves to help with the physically demanding labor. Even the other slaves hated you as you 'killed' their one ray of hope that could have had them sleeping on fresh hay instead of the dirt floor.
There has been many times where they caught you at times when your warden wasn't watching over you all to tie you up to dangle you from a sturdy tree's limb at the end of the kingdom beside its 'backdoor' directly behind the castle to batter you with blunt weapons, happily aiming for your thin midsection with their chosen blunt items. Today was one of those days & the rain thumping over your near-bare body did little to help against the objects thumping mercilessly against your gaunt form. They were not stopping, even when another one of their groups gave the signal that warned of their boss coming & they didn't slow their whacking either. It's only when the boss finally made himself seen by the group after grabbing one's shoulder. It was none other than Sentinel Prime himself, your main bully who made it his life's mission to keep you in line by strangling you with said line.
"I see you are all keeping yourselves fit with exercise. You even have an incentive." His smirk makes you want to kick his large chin into his smug mouth, but you couldn't for a few reasons, it would worsen your treatment by the guards, you were in no shape to fight back, & the stone your ankles were bound to was too heavy for you to move. He gives his permission to batter you a bit more in his underhanded way before the patrol comes to lock you away again. Your rough sigh turns into a pained grunt as one took the sound as scoffing & robustly took a swing to your lower back.
...
You are thrown faceplate first over the cold stone floor of the miniscule cell as the guard's pede print throbbed, leaving a clear print on your back as your ankle-length dress scrunches to your knees.
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