deercountry | Winter's quiet grip (Open)

Entry tags:

Winter's quiet grip (Open)

Who: Savage Opress & You
What: Event catch-all
When: Month of December
Where: In Trench, everyone can hear you bleed

Content Warnings: Abuse, threatening a child, borderline slavery, electrocution, impalement.

A. Winter’s Mourning
i. Life lost – 5 years old

[Savage sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his arm, his silver eyes fixed on the Nightbrother laid out on the woven matts that always smelled liked blood and death. He chewed on his lower lip and suddenly moved from sitting on his calves to pushing himself up onto his knees so he could peer into the older Nightbrother’s pale sweaty face.]

Bruté… come on, wake up. I don’t wanna sleep here…

[Bruté twitched, breath coming slow and wet. There was a strangely wet sucking sound from the Zabrak’s chest where all the cloth was wadded up and packed. There was something wrong with Brute’s orange skin as well; it wasn’t supposed to be so pale and clammy. Just as unusual, Bruté didn’t respond to his nudges and shaking.

Out of all of the Nightbrothers of his clan, Bruté was the one that made the most effort with him, even when he was crying. Despite it being against clan rules, Bruté would sleep close to the door where the kits were supposed to sleep so that Savage could crawl up the stairs and cuddle in with the older Zabrak. The kits kicked and rolled around and Savage was often kept to the outside of the group, but he found warm solid comfort nestled up to Bruté’s chest or back. Now he didn’t make a night without the journey to sleep next to Bruté.

It was his bedtime, and he was tired and cold from watching the older Zabrak wheeze out terribly slow breaths. He didn’t understand the sucking chest wound or the other injuries that came due to a Nightsister during the Selection Trials earlier in the day. He shook Bruté again, hoping to rouse the Nightbrother to go upstairs.

Instead, he gave up and nestled in right there, resting his chin on Bruté’s chest. He ignored the Nightbrother in the doorway keeping vigil; he didn’t like Furious much. He closed his eyes and dozed, shivering because there was no blanket and Bruté wasn’t putting off much, if any body heat.

He hissed when Furious grabbed him by the back of the neck then went still as he was picked up. Instinctively, his arms and legs curled into his body, but more alarming was the complete silence to the room. He squirmed, hissing again and Furious gave him a shake to quiet him lest he wake the kits in the next room.]

To bed, Savage.

Bruté…

He’s dead. [Furious growled deeply at him, causing him to twist to peer up at the Nightbrother. There was something in Furious tone that welcomed him to protest, to fight.] The Trials are no place for crying kits or weaklings. The Sisters won’t accept anything less.

[He peered through the darkness of the room to Bruté’s still body. The smell of blood and death – like the kills brought in for them to help skin and cut up so they could eat – finally registered.

Savage didn’t fight as Furious took him to the next room with the sleeping kits of the clan and deposited him in their piled ranks. He lifted his head to follow Furious’ movements out of the room, ears picking up the main door opening and several Nightbrothers entering. He picked at his lower lip with fingers as the Brother’s carried and dragged Brute’s body from the house.

He crawled to the door and peered after them, shrinking back when Furious came to stand blocking the way. He watched the older Nightbrother sink to a crouch in front of him, Furious’ glowing golden eyes pining him before a finger jabbed him in the shoulder.]

Bruté did a disservice coddling you. If he’s lucky, he’s with the Fanged God, and you… t’sh, it’s only a matter of time before you become a crybaby again. [Furious leaned in close, bearing sharp teeth where he could see them.] I will bite your throat out if I have to listen to months of crying. I don’t care which Sister you crawled your way out of.

[Furious left him there after that, and he shivered in the doorway. He didn’t understand death well other than that death meant they would eat. He picked at his lower lip again then crawled over to the spot where Bruté had died, curled up in the drying blood pool left there and waited until morning.]

ii. Life changed

[Savage stood in the courtyard and stared warily of his Master. They had been practicing deepening his connection to the Dark Side for the last hour, and his armour was still smoking from the last barrage of Force lightning that had assaulted him. His limbs gave faint shivers from the electricity that had washed over him and still bit at the air around him.

He had regained his feet and Darth Tyranus waited with a cool indifference as he gathered himself and eased his weight so that he was standing at ease.]

Again. [The lesson continued.

He concentrated on his connection to the Dark Side which felt seething with his anger and frustration, hampered by his discomfort of failure. He set a fist to his forehead, focusing on the feel of it as he gathered up the Force in as tight of a strangle hold as he could, wrangling it to do his will. He released a breath as he extended the hand from his forehead outwards so that he could feel the air around the massive stones but also beyond them, one of the transport ships. He’d show his Master. He’d would fail.

The rocks swayed, rumbling against each other and then all of them lifted from their pedestals and rose into the air. Beyond their direct training area, the transport carrier creaked on its landing gear and began to rise, wobbling in the air but also rising. He dug deep into his hatred, using it to harness the force.

Suddenly his Master was on the move, launching forward and drawing what he knew to be Tyranus’ lightsaber. The red blade lit into existence, coming straight for his face, and instinctively, he howled and lost part of his concentration. The stones slammed to their perches and the transport lurched and landed heavily, but more than that, his other hand swung up as if to deflect the red blade.

Like a bubble bursting, the Dark Side blew out from him, overwhelming his Master’s defenses and sending the old man flying backwards into the bushes. He blew out a breath between his teeth, belatedly taking a step forward as if to check on his Master.

Lightning arched out from the bushes to send him staggering, a yell of pain and surprise ripping from his lips as he collapsed and gripped his head. It was only a short burst this time. His teeth chattered from the electricity, and he slowly lifted his head to watch his Master approach.]

Why did I electrocute you, Savage?

Master…? [It was hard to get the word out.]

The first time was because you let your guard down. If you focus too much of the Force in one area, you are not keeping up your defenses and will be cut down. And the second time…

[Savage stared at his Master’s red eyes, and he set a hand to the ground to push himself to his feet to withdraw. The second burst was coming right… now. He went down gritting his teeth, shuddering and shaking as lightning rolled over him.]

The second was because you have no reason to show me any concern, but you have shown explosive uses of the Force more than once now. Good. [Tyranus stepped in front of him as he gathered himself to sit back into a crouch.] Gather your things, my Apprentice. I have an assignment for you.

iii. Life Gained - Future Never Seen

[Savage approached the Nightsister conclave with a seeming flagrant disregard for tradition, skirting old piles of destroyed droids that were long covered in red dirt. He moved with an tension that was more instinctual than accurate of the situation, and he dragged a dead young rancor behind him. Older and far more rugged looking, he walked without hurry to the gaping entrance of the seemingly empty conclave of the Nightsisters.

Suddenly there was a squeal of delight, then a second following suit. A six-year old pale Zabrak ran full tilt from the shadowy depths of the stone, her silver hair flying as she covered the distance. Her four-year-old sister followed suit, hopping up and down with skinny arms raised in a much slower approach. He didn’t break stride, but a snort of pride sounded from him.

The elder girl wrapped her arms around his left leg and hopped up to stand on his foot so he would take her back the way that she had come.] Sire! What did you bring back?

Sire! Sire! Sire! [The four-year-old chanted, still hopping until he was in range then followed her sister’s antics and latched onto his right leg. He came to a stop to allow her to find his foot before he slogged his way forward with his kill and his two kits.]

It’s just a rancor. We’ve eaten one before.

Was it a hard fought battle, sire? [The six-year-old was at the age of wanting to know combat details.]

Sire, Mother is in a bad mood.

Mother is always in a bad mood. [Savage rolled his eyes as he entered their home and he tossed the rancor to the side to deal with once he had managed to keep the kits from clinging to his legs. It was unconventional for any female Sisters to have anything to do with their sire, but these were unconventional times. The only other Nightsister clans were on the other side of the planet and the only Nightsister here hadn’t even been raised with tradition.

Ventress approached, sneering at him before basically tossing the squirming toddler into his arms brusquely. He took the kit without complaint before reaching out to catch the Nightsister’s arm. Then he dared to lean in and nip at her temple, adding a nudge of his nose. Only then did she soften very slightly, but she gave him a shove on the shoulder anyway.]

The girls are yours. I have a bounty to follow up on. It will take me a week, maybe more.

The ship is supplied, but you should take it for a tune up. The landing gear has been sticky. [He was distracted by the toddler grasping at his face, bubbling merrily and drooling. She was teething and usually cranky. At least the toddler had an excuse where Ventress was just… Ventress.]

Fine. Don’t kill the children.

[The kits at his legs were shoving each other and giggling.] You always have a higher chance of offing them than me.

[She smirked, basically agreeing. After all, she often left him to the rearing and went off world for bounty hunting, which was a system that worked.] Girls, be terrible for your sire.

Yes, Mother. [That was chanted and that was as close to an affectionate as any parting would get. Ventress walked off with not even a single look backwards.

Savage tipped his head to grasping fingers at his chin. Life after a near death experience was good.]

B. Run, Rabbit, Run
i. Hunted
[Hunting beasts was made far more difficult when one had to compete with a wide assortment of traps laid out. Even then, the forest itself seemed to try to grasp at him as he pushed through, and he ripped his way through more than a few bushes. Foliage and displaced snow dusted his armour, and he had used enough traps on Dathomir to avoid many of the man-made ones.

He was in the process of hunting down a beast that had been roaming the outskirts of town and headed into the forest. He was closing in on what looked like some kind of canine – didn’t people call them wolves here? – and even if he was keeping an eye out for traps, he still found his situation rapidly changing when the ground beneath his feet suddenly lurched and woven sticks buckled under his weight.

He dropped into the pit trap, snarling in pain as his leg became impaled on a spear of sharpened wood that had been placed inside. Green blood flowed and began aerosolizing immediately, not that it stopped him from hobbling on his good leg and recklessly ripping his leg off of the wood spear with a renewed snarl.

He had no medical supplies, but he was so tall that he could hobble over and grasp the edge of the pit trap and start to haul himself out of it, smearing his vileblood as he went.]

ii. Trapped

[Having began to sweep to kill any and all of the undead animals that seemed to find their way to him, Savage was working his way through the fringes of the woods as he headed back to town. He heard a crack of wood and something that sounded like rope on bark. A trap had been set off, and while he normally wouldn’t bother to concern himself with the matter, it was on his way.

He stopped as he found himself looking up at what looked like a net with something – or someone – inside of it.]

You can cut yourself down, right?

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[Ariadne, meanwhile, can't stop looking back over her shoulder at the squirrel. Even after everything Deerington had to offer, she still can't easily reconcile the idea of dead things walking around, like they're perfectly alive.

Not that she means to discriminate. It should just be physically impossible.

She follows after Savage, leaning over to scoop up a stone along the way. She brought her sling along, of course. It's just that she really doesn't want to use it.]

Do you always feel it when living things are near?

[Savage was on high alert even as they moved well passed the squirrel who had not pursued them beyond the tree that they had passed under. Once they rounded the bend and were out of direct sight, the forest returned to being an eerie quiet.

He took his saberstaff of his belt to keep it in hand as a precaution. He currently thought it was good practice for them both to be armed and ready.]

I have to concentrate when I want to sense it. It's not a natural skill I have. Normally it's easier to sense impending danger.

[As if to emphasize that, another howl sounded. It was closer than the last time, but still at a distance that only turned his head to sniff and sounded a low growl from his throat.]

[She shifts, narrowing her eyes as she listens to the howl.]

Closer...

[And entirely possible that it's not an alpha at all. Maybe it's just one of those 'werewolf' things that Bella told her about.

Ariadne doesn't want to assume the worst but...she grew up in a rain forest. She knows danger signs when she hears them.]

Do you sense impending danger now?

It seems to be heading toward our general direction.

[Whatever was out there might miss them, pursuing whatever it was that the canine hunted. Maybe it would even bring down its prey before meeting them, but something about the forest and a sense of foreboding made question that logic.

He shook his head at her question.]

Not immediate, no. That doesn't mean it's not coming.

[He gestured with his head for them to leave the game trail that they had been following to head into the forest directly, starting them on a course to head back towards town. The branches and leaves seemed to cling to his legs, easy to push through at first but noticeable enough that it split some of his attention.]

Watch for traps.

You've noticed them too?

[She didn't say anything, because they haven't walked into any of the obvious ones yet. But honestly, there are a lot more than usual.

Maybe people getting desperate to stock up before the winter.]

The hunters are a little overeager...

Yes. Some are more obvious than others.

[They hadn't tripped any, but he certainly had noticed some similar to what they would have used in his village. He thought they were to catch game, but again, he wasn't so certain. The Zealots didn't seem to work in such obvious ways, so what was it?

He snorted and suddenly stopped as he nearly stepped in a partially hidden foot snare. He made certain Ariadne had come to a stop as well before he purposefully stepped around it.]

Perhaps they think it will be a harsh winter?

[She stops short. And glances down at the trap, before tossing her stone into the snare to trip it. It snaps immediately, ruffling the underbrush a little bit.]

We have no way of knowing. We've never experienced a winter here.

I guess it's wise to prepare for the worst.

[Even as she continues to hope for the best.]

[He paused as the trap was set, making certain that she was still safe before he carried on pushing through the underbrush. Was it his imagination or were the bushes leaning into him as he walked through them?]

It is.

[A small bird landed on a branch directly overhead and, oddly enough, began to sing. He glanced up and could tell something was off. Its head was wobbling as if on a spring. Was it's neck broken?]

What do you make of that?

[Scooping up the rock again, Ariadne follows behind him, pausing at the sight of the bird.

It's...grotesque, actually. And she feels a little churn in her stomach. Before she can say anything, though, the bird suddenly hops off of its perch, swooping low over their heads. Ariadne reacts on instinct, ducking down and cover her hair, trying to keep it flat against her skull.]

What the...?

[Birds are supposed to fly away from people. Not toward them!]

[Savage leaned as the bird swooped, swatting that the air as it passed by. He didn't strike the bird, but he expected it to bank and turn aside. It continued on after the swoop, and he shook his head. Were all the animals dead around here? Was this a sign of the winter to come?]

We should head back to town. Things are odd.

[He began to push through again, but he only managed to make it a handful of paces before more birds arrived. On top of that, he could hear creatures in the underbrush. Some bushes even shook. A sense of danger rose in him.]

[Ariadne transitions back to her Human form, the colors of her skin rippling for a moment like bleeding paints. Perhaps hair that isn't blue will be less tempting for the birds. She'll blend better, in that respect.

But it doesn't seem to matter much.

Another comes right at her. And Ariadne does something she never wanted to do: With a ringing, metallic sound, like a sword being draw from its sheath, she extends the long, black talons from the tips of her fingers.

It's impulse. Pure and simple. She slashes at the bird, hacking its tail-feathers off.

One would expect, at least, a pained or indignant caw. But the bird barely seems to notice, banking around to make another pass at them.]

[As a bird swoops down at Savage, he lifted a hand and clenched his fist, catching the creature in the Force. Like the other creatures they had seen, it looked like it was dead and decayed. He clenched his fist tighter, crushing the creature.

It fell to the ground, and he stepped over it as he continued on. Behind him, the crushed bird twitched and flipped over to crawl after him.

To their left, the bushes were moving. Something much longer than birds and squirrels was nearly upon them. He pulled his saberstaff from his belt and lit one end as he sounded a snarl of challenge for whatever it was coming.]

[It's going to be a fight. Ariadne hates fights. But that doesn't mean she isn't prepared to do battle.

She's horrendously prepared to do battle.

And as Savage prepares in his way, she prepares in her own way, squatting down in front of him, low to the ground, with her talons out to either side, like ten long knives, twitching and ready.]

You take what comes from above. I'll take from below.

[For someone so gentle and smiley all the time, she's talking like she's ready to do business.]

[Savage snorted through his nose, rolling his shoulders as his blood warmed in his veins at the notion of this coming to a fight. There was no longer much opportunity for retreat, so he was going to put everything he had into the fight that was being brought to them.

He grunted in agreement for her plan, and then he suddenly stepped forward as the bushes before him suddenly parted. He lashed out with a kick first, catching the first wolf under the jaw and lifting the beast up and off course. His saberstaff swung, cleaving the wolf in half. The damage he created might have been the most recent, but it had not been the cause of the initial kill on the beast.

A second wolf charged in, snapping at his knees and trying to barrel into him to have an easier time accessing his throat. Unfortunately, he was solid on his feet and only took a step backwards.]

Is everything in this forest already dead?

[It wasn't exactly an attack from above, but it's effective, nevertheless. Snarly males have that going for them.

Ariadne somersaults out of the way of the first wolf, coming up behind the second as it bounces off of Savage. She slices into the back of its legs. Hard enough to sever some tendons, but not enough to maim it. Under normal circumstances, she would be quite concerned for hurting another living creature. But Savage is right. There's nothing alive here.]

Seems like? The animals, anyway. The trees are all alive.

[At least, she's pretty sure they are...]

[Birds were dive-bombing from above and their claws slashed at him as they passed overhead. With Ariadne taking on the second wolf - and a third apparently coming - he concentrated for the moment swinging his saberstaff at the birds and even a squirrel launched at him.

He snarled and lashed out with the Force, pushing the creatures away from them both. He smashed them into trees, into bushes, against rocks. Broken, they fell but defeated they were not.]

If these trees start attacking, we will have to burn the place down.

[He was slashing at the birds coming at them on the ground now. What would it take the kill them for good?]

That's not happening.

[There are few things Ariadne considers herself overly touchy about. Forest fires, however, are one of those things. She doesn't like violence against plants as it is--the whole 'Christmas tree' thing terrifies her. But a forest fire is a whole separate level of awful.

Fortunately, at least the trees seem stationary for the moment.

Thank the gods for small things.

Ariadne somersaults forward, catching the third wolf off guard, hamstringing it before it can lunge. She drives her elbow down to the place where its head meets its neck, but if the wolves are just brushing off death, they're probably not going to fall unconscious.]

I think escape may be the best option. Can you climb?

[He was keenly aware of her vehemence against burning the trees, but he expected it was better than being killed by them. So far, they seemed to be nothing more than trees, solid around them and stationary. The bushes seemed to press in now and again, but the biggest threat was the animals that kept coming and coming.

He was still swatting birds and avoiding snapping wolf teeth from the one he had cut in half. He had to pause against the birds to drive his saberstaff blade into the wolf's head and then kicked it away.]

I can. Where do you suggest we climb to?

The trees.

[Said not so much as a retort, but rather in disbelief.

Where else would they climb?

And as good as Ariadne is in a fight, as steadfast as she is when it comes to being an optimist...none of that compares with how easily she takes to the trees. She was born to it. And she leaps with ease, scrambling up a trunk so fast, it's hard to tell where she's even found a foothold. She just seems to ooze up the side of it.

The frustrated wolf she leaves behind on the ground seems completely bewildered. Before pawing uselessly at the trunk.]

Come on! The birds might still be a problem, but wolves can't climb!

We'll be trapped...

[But their options were limited at this point and retreat was well within order. He could tell that more creatures were being attracted to the noisy scuffle that was happening, and there would come a point where they would be overwhelmed with numbers.

It was like contesting the droid army.

When Ariadne scampered up the trees, he gathered his power and let loose in a Force Wave, knocking birds, beasts and bushes away in a wave of energy. Even a few of the smaller trees swayed with it.

Then he was clambering up a thick tree. His strength and old experience allowed him to make quick progress, though he wasn't nearly as elegant as Ariadne. Hand over hand, he used claws where necessary to haul himself up until he was getting too high for his weight to be held well.]

Do you suggest we jump from tree to tree now?

[She clings to the trunk, wrapping both arms around it as Savage blasts his way to her, in his own fashion. This Force thing is really quite...destructive.

At least, when it wants to be.

Something else to consider in her ongoing fued with Obi-Wan, but now is not the time for meditation.]

Well, I could but I'm not sure that...

[Honestly, some of those trees probably can't hold his weight. She considers a delicate way to say it, but then shakes her head. He and his brother aren't much for delicacy, are they?]

We'll have to choose trees carefully. And...

[She reaches into her bag, going elbow deep, although the bag itself isn't nearly large enough for that. After a bit of rumaging, she pulls out a rope.]

This'll help!

[Savage used what he had to in order to succeed, and thankfully, Nightbrothers were taught to climb and clamber from a young age. It was a worthwhile skill, especially as they were getting divebombed by the birds as the wolves circled the tree and snapped.

He held on and looked for trees that would allow him to move without too much risk of them breaking. Many of those closer to town would definitely not work.]

Fine. You lead and I'll follow. If the tree breaks, I can climb again.

[He was also much more comfortable withdrawing from the ground level if he had to. He stared at her curiously as she had a bag that didn't seem capable of the capacity that she was displaying now. How strange.]

Fine. Let's be quick. We're going to get scratched up.

[Ariadne loops the rope around her shoulder and waist, crossing her body. After a deep breath to get her bearings, she gives Savage a small nod.

And nearly effortlessly leaps to the first closest tree that will hold them both. She hands without too much trouble, shifting to the other side to give him as much room as possible.

He's right, of course. They're going to get scratched up. But better that than eaten alive.]

Come on!

[Savage watched her, and he was long used to making dramatic leaps. Of course, it wasn't as often with his current heavy body, but once not that long ago, his smaller body was nimble, strong and athletic.

Now he pushed off from his current branch with great strength, passing the distance without trouble. He landed heavily on the branch, causing it to sway under his weight, but he had little issue keeping his balance.

Undead birds followed, creating noise as they clawed and pecked at them.]

[She clings to the tree as it sways, her stomach dropping out from under her a little bit. It would be fun, if not for the birds.

And the wolves.

And the general sense of foreboding.

After giving him an approving nod, she turns to assess the next best jump, quickly settling on what looks like a particularly sturdy conifer.]

This one may be a little rough. Try to catch with your elbows. Like this.

[And she demonstrates, leaping into the tree, catching on between her arms.]

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