Samson (RP/Parody)
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samsonegypt.bsky.social
Samson (RP/Parody)
@samsonegypt.bsky.social
110 followers 120 following 3.2K posts
Young Man using his strength for monetary gain across different time periods. Historical RP OC. 25+ y/o MUN. (Fake/Parody/RP) MDNI
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SAMSON

Surly giant, who can use his strength to harm, but cutie pie underneath.

Exists in many periods
- Escaped slave and prisoner in Ancient Egypt
- Gladiator and Guard in Ancient Rome
- Circus Strongman in Victorian era

Proudly queer 🏳️‍🌈

6’7”

[#historicalrp #ocrp]
He was surprised, but a small smile creeped onto his face as his cheeks flushed.

“I don’t usually share beds with men who haven’t at least taken me on a date but… I guess we’ve shared a meal, haven’t we?”
Samson nodded.

“I’ll - uh - I’ll keep my distance from that one then. You’ve made it quite clear you want your distance from me… And I’ll save you suffering my snoring.”
His father shook his head.

“No, you say ‘Yes, Sir’ when addressing me. Has your father not taught you to respect your elders? So when I say ‘Is it true you read and write’, what do you reply?”
“Any bed?” he asked. “Where do you sleep?”
“ ‘Yes’ what, young man?” his father asked - not with cruelty but with the steady authority he always held himself with.
He nodded, hating how cold and professional he was suddenly being treated.

“I - I’d like to sleep here, but I should go back to Mrs Haddon’s… I need another 20 coins before sundown tomorrow…”

His cheeks turned pink with shame. But he’d do anything to get the money he needed. To save his sister.
The brother to the left lifted up his arm, readying to strike a blow in the boy‘s stomach when Samson’s father put out a hand.

“No. Don’t go damaging the goods you want to sell.”

He took the boy’s face in his hand and forced him to meet his eye.

“Is it true what they say? You read and write?”
“Yes, Lucian,” he said with a dumb smile. “I have all the free will in the world, that has been made very clear to me.”
The brothers just laughed at him.

“Being father‘s favourite won‘t help you now.”

Samson could barely watch as his own father carried on appraising him. Was he really considering parting with coins for the boy?
Brother? The poor boy his father was about to appraise was being sold by his own family?

His father - broad and imposing - took two powerful steps to the protesting boy.

“Teeth,” he said in a low growl, pushing his thumb through the boy‘s lips and counting teeth.
wide as two of the burlier, older men held each of his arms as he tried to wriggle free.
found himself in such a dire situation?

“Get up,” the men bellowed, pulling him up to the edge of the pit, the young man collapsing onto them.

“Let me see the goods you’re offering then,” Samson’s Pa said with the authority he always commanded.

The men stepped aside to show the young man - eyes +
Samson staggered back as the men all gripped at the rope, it pulling taut with the weight of their captive in the well using it to climb up.

As he got closer to the top, he saw it was a man with a kind face drawn with worry, long chestnut hair falling to his shoulders.

How had this poor boy +
“That’s what *you* think…”

This man had already given him more money than he could have hoped for. Money that was bringing him tantalisingly close to his goal.

But there was also the kindness. More than anyone had shown him in years.
threw a long bundle of rope at the men that they carried in case they had to tie up the camel securely.

“Get him out.”
Samson swallowed as he heard the boy‘s voice from well over ten feet down.

Seventeen. The same age as him.

All they could see in the dark pit was the shape of long hair and the suggestion of a face.

“I need a closer look than that…” Samson’s father grumbled. He strode over to the camel and +
he reads and writes!”

At the final words, his father’s expression shifted. His smile curled upwards, unsettling Samson’s belly.

“Let me have a look at the proposed property then.”

Samson knew the trip had gone badly, but did they really need to resort to this?

The men encouraged them forwards +
stern and solid. “Not much use for those in Egypt. Slave owners need men.”

What was his father doing? Entertaining the men, whose eyes now danced around, until their leader spoke.

“He’s nearly a man - seventeen. And he’s strong… well-behaved…”

“We’ll offer him cheap!” pitched in another.

“And +
we’re looking to sell.”

Samson’s eyes widened. He was familiar with slavery - of course he was - but it wasn‘t the business of trade he and his father dealt in.

“Oh, no! We’re - “ spice merchants, he was going to say, until a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“A boy?” his father asked, +
Samson jumped down from the camel’s back first, and instantly sensed an… intensity in these men’s faces. A glint of something hungry for more than rare spices.

“Could you use a slave, you hairy bunch of Ishmaelites?” shouted out one of the taller men at the back of the pack. “We’ve got a boy +
Samson wrinkled his nose.

“Yes, you might take, but why are you ignoring everything you could *give* as well?”
Samson’s father, an ox of a man, over his shoulder as he wrangled the camel’s reins and directed them towards the pit and the men excitedly inviting them closer. Could they be wanting to buy spices?
were passing through Canaan, a place they’d not called on on their journey, when a flock of men came into view standing next to a well. It took only a few moments for the men - at least ten - to start waving frantically for them to come over.

”Perhaps our fortunes are about to change, lad,” said +
@alandofmyown.bsky.social

Samson and his father were twenty days into their journey back to Egypt. They’d come east on their camel, hoping to make good profits on new and unusual spices from the trading hub in smaller villages and towns, but were returning not much richer than they’d left.

They +