Savage Opress (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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deercountry2021-12-07 08:45 pm
opress) wrote in deercountry2021-12-07 08:45 pm
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?
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?
no subject
He stared at her in confusion at the offer of comfort, mistaking it for a potential ruse to steal him away and maybe eat him. Or sell him. That's what the stories were to keep kits in line and willing to raise the alarm rather than be fascinated by foreigners.
Yet, at his age, curiosity won out over wariness, and he slid to the edge of the raised platform he had been laying on previously.]
How'd you get in here? [Even as he spoke, a keen eye would be able to tell he was a touch older. Like he was aging in the dream.]
no subject
That's kind of a long story. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. It'd be kind of a dumb thing to do anyway, with so many people you know around, huh?
[She keeps her hand extended to him with her elbow resting on her knee in an invitation to come sit with her.]
I'm sorry about your friend.
no subject
He slowly scooched off the platform to sit on the floor, inching his way closer to her while pretending to not do so. Obviously, she would notice, but he was quite taken with the idea of his own skill here.]
Are you a Sister? [Oh, there was another possibility too, right?] Or... are you the Winged Goddess?
[He looked back at the blood spot then down at himself where blood had soaked into his rough and oversized shirt and shorts. He wiped at it with a hand then shrugged.]
Maybe we'll eat him. That's what dead means here. [No, it didn't, but it was the only way he could wrap his head around how death might affect him.]
no subject
Nope - I'm neither. Just a friend. My name's Willow.
[She glances back, and feigns a surprised look, as though she's just noticed him moving closer. She doesn't really believe they eat their dead - Savage has made no mention of it anyway. Besides, that's a good way to spread disease, and among people from a brutal world who place such a strong emphasis on survival, she can't see it being realistic.]
You know, despite what some people might try to tell you, it's okay to be sad when someone you care about dies.
no subject
[Savage spoke the word like it was completely foreign to him and that he didn't actually know what it meant. She spoke it like it was a good thing though, so he wasn't in trouble obviously. He still wasn't certain why she was here, but she was far nicer to him than most.]
Willow is a funny name. It's soft.
[He grinned toothily when she acted surprised, no wiser for her acting. He picked at his clothing and tilted his head, like he wasn't quite certain what she was asking of him.]
He let me sleep next to him. He sometimes took care of me and didn't always get mad when I cried.
no subject
[She smiles a little when he calls her name funny - she supposes it is, given the ones she's heard so far from his culture.]
It sounds like he cared about you a whole lot, huh?
no subject
[He picked at his lower lip with his fingers as he considered it. She didn't seem cold or waspish like the Nightsisters, not that he was allowed to interact with them. He still sometimes snuck out to look at one when she arrived.
He looked back at the blood spot and then shrugged his shoulders. He then scooched forward to be right in front of her.]
He didn't treat me like I was bad. [Which was his version of caring.] Can I touch your hair?
no subject
[Willow shrugs a little and ducks her head so he can touch her hair. After a moment peers at him seriously, with her eyebrows raised.]
And, hey. You're not a bad kid, and don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise, okay? Even if they're not nice to you. That's a problem with them, not with you.
no subject
His little fingers reached out to touch the red strands. It was like a soft waterfall. A smile broke out on his face as he even let his fingers push through the curtain of it.]
Hair's so soft... [He hummed as he continued to touch it.] If I make too much noise, the chirodactyls might come and take away a kit or a warrior. I'm supposed to be quiet like the others.
no subject
Chirodactyls?
[Some sort of predator, she's guessing.]
I mean, either way, it doesn't change anything - even if it's hard to be quiet sometimes, it doesn't mean you're a bad kid.
no subject
Flying creatures, vicious and scary. They come at night. They come in the day. They come for prey.
[There were many stories of the chirodactyls, and he knew someday that he would have to kill one to be considered an adult male.
He stared at her. She was nicer than anyone he had met, and he wasn't certain what to do but watch her.]
You aren't... like the others. The Sisters are cold. The Brothers are distant.
no subject
They sound pretty scary. There's nothing like that from my world. Well, there used to be an animal that sounds a little like that, but there's no living ones left.
[She smiles a little and shrugs.]
Well, my world's a lot different from yours - a lot of the people there are nicer than the grown ups here. But you know what? I know you're strong, and smart, and brave. Don't let anyone make you think any different okay?
no subject
When I get bigger, I'll have to fight one to be a man.
[He said it like it was fact, like he would in future do what he was supposed to. His fingers stroked her hair as he listened to her, having never been off world to experience the kinds of people she was talking about. Honestly, he'd been told many times that off-worlders weren't welcome.
She seemed alright, nice even.]
How do you know that about me? I used to cry a lot, but I'll be good. I promise.
no subject
[He'll come through that encounter fine, though, she assumes. After all, she knows him as an adult.]
Because I know you.
[She pauses thoughtfully for a moment.]
You know, there's a girl I know from home - she's one of the bravest, strongest people I've ever known. She's fought all kinds of monsters - even a god once. And you know what? She still cries sometimes.
no subject
[He patted the small muscles of his bare arm. For all his misery in life, he was still a gangly and fit child. There was no opportunity to be anything but that.
He stared at her, not understanding how she knew him. His fingers pet her hair again, a good distraction from the confusion. He didn't want to sound too dumb, right? Yeah, keep quiet since he'd never seen a human before her.
He tilted his horned head and frowned.]
If she's so strong, how come she cries? What makes her so sad?
no subject
I can see you're already really strong. I'm sure you're going to do just fine.
[She gives him another smile as he asks why Buffy cries.]
She cries sometimes because being strong doesn't mean you're never sad, or you never cry. Being strong means you still do what you need to even when you are scared, or sad.
no subject
[He still wasn't so convinced that crying would earn him any kind of rewards. So far, there were few that would tolerate long stints of it, and in future, he'd likely understand why.]
So... she cries because she's scared or sad? I don't think any of the Sisters would cry. They're real powerful too.
no subject
Well, maybe they cry when no one else is looking. You want to know a secret? I cry sometimes too. It's a pretty normal thing to do - not something you have to be ashamed of.
no subject
[Since they were apparently admitting to crying, and she clearly was trying to soothe his potential concerns thanks to Furious' threat to him.]
Even when I'm with the others, it isn't the same as my brother.
no subject
Me too. Did you know you can be in a room totally full of people and still feel lonely? Especially if you don't feel like they like, or understand you.
no subject
I don't like being alone.
no subject
I know. It's not a very nice feeling, huh?
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[He sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. Most of his memories of his big brother was fading as the years passed by, but that made it even more scary to be so alone. None of the other kits knew about their brothers, if they even had any.]
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[She tries to keep her tone neutral for Savage's benefit - she and Maul might not get along, but that's not on the little boy here in front of her. She holds her arms out to offer a hug to the boy as he sniffles.]
You think your mom just pretends to care about you?
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[His mood definitely lifted talking about his big brother whom no one in the village spoke of or even knew. He wasn't sure which it was. Savage missed his brother painfully, and it was easy for him to cry if he realized what was missing.
He blinked owlishly at her offering of a hug. He sat for a long moment uncertain before he decided to be brave and threw himself bodily into her arms to hug her around her middle.]
Yeah. She loves Maul, but she doesn't treat me like that.
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