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
[If Sidious came for Maul, he wouldn't be caught off-guard a second time. He'd end his old master for good or die trying, unwilling to become just a pawn in the old man's plotting. He was beginning to forget this wasn't real, just an illusion conjured up by Trench. It was easy to fall into the role of a family man, a beloved uncle to the little girls and protective older brother to Savage.
Maul's lips twitched at the little child's blunt nature.]
That is because I am clever in a far different way than your sire.
[Savage was smart in his own way of course. Maul had known that for a long time and they had used it to their advantage many times in the schemes Maul came up with.
Maul limped along with the eldest girl on his mechanical leg, the weight feeling like nothing with the prosthetics to help him.]
Alright. But remember you are not allowed to touch it.
[Maul had made it very clear to his nieces that if he found any of them trying to fool around with either of his lightsabers he'd give them a burn from one of them to teach them a lesson that the weapons weren't toys to be played with. While it was a harsh punishment and Maul was loathe to hurt them, he knew they'd end up much worse if they had no fear of the weapon and ended up accidentally cutting a limb or killing themselves off fooling around with one of them.]
Have you been practicing the way I showed you?
[He had shown the girls some of the basic katas of using a lightsaber and how to properly wield a staff. None of the three had shown any Force-sensitivity yet but Maul figure it was only a matter of time. Their bloodline was strong on both sides and at least one of them was bound to reveal her powers sooner or later.]
no subject
[He'd worked her down over the years with the kits, and they might not have any manner of normal relationship by anyone's standards. It worked for them. It wasn't what either of them had initially wanted or even cared for, but years wore them both down. Now they had something neither of them expected, and they were hard-pressed to let it go either.
And that meant that Maul being included in their family urged his protective behaviour. It was a joy to him when his brother stopped in for a visit. It reminded him that he could be part of something beyond the planet where he resided.
He shook his head at his elder kits, aware that they would try to get away with anything that they thought Maul would allow them to. Ironically, Maul was the nicest of them when it came to allowing the kits to see and do things. Fun Uncle and all that.]
Uncal, how long did you learn to use those? I wanna be just like you.
[The kit in Maul's arms hugged her uncle tighter, content to remain there. It might have been one of the few times she was quiet and not running around getting into trouble with her sister. She also thought the sun rotated around his brother rather than Dathomir.
The eldest was nodding her head gravely to the instructions before she fell into a fighting stance. She punched a few times, then gave a little kick that nearly sent her over before she caught herself and took up a lightsaber training stance.]
I practice every day, Uncle Maul. Mother hits the back of my knees if I slouch.
no subject
[He glanced at the three kits. They were still far too vulnerable as it was right now. Once they had learned a little more on how to be self-sufficient and how to fight (plus whichever one of them turned out to be Force-sensitive), Maul would feel more comfortable having Savage by his side again for when it was time to carry out the most important plans that he had in mind.
Maul may not have trusted Ventress all that much but he trusted his brother implicitly. If he said his mate and former Sith assassin was on their side, Maul believed him. It was true that she'd calmed down just a little over the years, the kits giving her someone to love and care about. Maul had just learned not to be around whenever she became pregnant. She may have been a fantastic mother to the kits but she was just as unstable as any other pregnant woman could be with hormones and still with her Force powers to boot. Maul had stayed far away until each time one of his nieces was born.]
It takes a long, long time, my dear.
[Maul nudged his little niece gently with his forehead, causing a shriek of delight from her and then a bubble of giggles. She was definitely his favorite for how much she doted on her uncle, thinking that he was the best person in the whole galaxy.]
If you learn and practice very, very hard, you will become as good as me someday. But first you'll have to beat your sister.
[Maul nodded in approval towards the eldest. The middle one scowled and stuck her tongue out at her elder sister. He knew neither of her parents would let her shirk her duty in learning how to fight properly. Both of them could be extremely vicious and Maul was pleased to see that streak being passed down to the younger generation.]
no subject
[As much as Savage was eager to return to his brother's side to assist, he had an obligation first and foremost to his kits. They being new potential Nightsisters with the bloodline mostly wiped out thanks to Dooku and Grievous. It was also rare for multiple female children to be born right after one another. They were still much too young to fend for themselves, and Ventress' reputation as bounty hunter kept her safe from too much scrutiny as she moved around the galaxy. The only place he had to go was back to his brother's side.
He rubbed the bare feet of the youngest in his arms, and she nestled into the crook of his arm and hooted in delight. He even leaned his head down to nuzzled the tiny being, earning questing fingers against his temples and grasping at his horns.
Yet, more than anything, he found himself most at ease as Maul engaged with this family. His brother deserved that peace and frustration of dealing with curious and sometimes mouthy kits. A times he wished his brother was closer to visit more often, but he also understood. Returning to Dathomir over and over too quickly could alert his brother's enemies that there may be something worthwhile to explore.]
You should test them, brother. [He gestured with his chin and gave a knowing look. In the Nightbrother village, 'special' males showed signs at a young age and often were nurtured to keep the gift alive. He had began to see signs in the elder two kits that they might be sensitive, but he trusted his brother's appraisal far more than his own.]
And can you not pit them against each other? It results in screaming and hair pulling. [That was said by a tired sire who had dealt with it before and wasn't looking for a repeat performance.]
Go and get your practice swords and show your uncle how much you've been practicing. Maybe he will give you pointers. [And maybe he was trying to distract them from fixating on seeing the Darksaber as long as possible. Maul could do it when his back was turned butchering the rancor he had caught.
The eldest gave a determined nod and ran back to their abode to retrieve wooden practice swords that Savage had fashioned for them. The middle remained a fixation in Maul's arms, not yet willing to leave the comfort and warmth of her uncle.]
no subject
Maul caught the look of his brother and quickly cottoned on to what he was telling his elder brother. Yes, the kits would need to be tested. Maul knew adversity wasn't always needed to awaken Force-sensitivity even if that was what the Sith thought best. His own had already been present by the time Sidious had taken him away. It was just a matter of trying to figure out the right situations to put them in. A combination of focus, discipline, and a little bit of stress all mixed together would do the trick.]
Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. [Maul said lying through his teeth smoothly. Frankly, he loved to rile the little ones up and watch them cause chaos before handing them back over to their sire so that he had to then clean up the mess that had been wrought.
He watched as the eldest grabbed the swords and brought them back, eager to show off to her uncle what she had learned.]
Alright. Show me.
[She began to run through what Ventress and Savage had taught her. The forms were wobbly and she forgot which kata she was supposed to be doing half the time but it was still good for such a young kit. Maul moved over towards her, still holding onto her sister.]
Move your feet around when you swing. Remember, they are not meant to be planted there in the dirt, or someone will try to knock you down.
no subject
For a time he watched his elder kit move through the forms, and to him, he was proud of her. She would be a great and fierce warrior one day, and already she was showing signs of her cunning and viciousness. All good qualities in a future Nightsister who might have to be burdened with the responsibility that came with Mother Talzin's bloodline.]
It seems you have everything in control here. I need to butcher our dinner tonight.
[He watched his brother with a devious sort of amusement. He almost considered lumping on the youngest to the load, but he knew better. Maul might be able to organize, command and even swoon the Black Market mobs, but young kits were far worse. Besides, his youngest was rather attached to him, and he may as well dote on her and allow Maul and opportunity to assess both of the older kits for Force-sensitivity.]
Girls, make certain not to drive your uncle back to his ship. [He shifted his precious load in his arm then smirked.] And if you do, recall what I taught you about disabling ships before take off.
[He eased away to leave Maul in charge of some training so he could butcher the rancor that he had hunted. He was still in sight of the three, able and willing to be called over. His youngest was laid down nearby, and she was practicing rolling over until she grew tired and would then nap.]
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Good. Very good. Now let's see both of you spar against one another.
[He finally put down the middle kit who only let go reluctantly. Fortunately, the thought of showing how much she'd improved motivated her greatly. She picked up one of the wooden swords and the two of them began sparring. It was messy and clumsy work but the two of them seemed to be having a good time. He watched the two of them for signs of Force-sensitivity. There was no loud flickers in the Force but their reflexes were very good, far above what kits their age should have been, and Maul recalled how one of the first signs Talzin had seen in him had been a physicality far too advanced for a small child. Yes, perhaps within another visit or two one of them would reveal themselves to have some skill with the Dark Side.
Things were going well as he thought about all of this to himself. Then the eldest accidentally rapped her sister hard across the upper arm, causing a sharp pain that made her drop her sword as she rubbed at the sore spot.]
Owwwwww! No fair! No fair!
[The middle one, now mad and thinking her sister had done it on purpose, then picked back up and tried to whack her sister with the wooden sword, now just mad and wanting to hurt her instead of practicing anymore. Maul let this continue for a minute or two so that they got their energies out before he intervened, pulling the two of them apart and holding them at arm's length.]
Now, now, none of that. It was an accident. Both of you apologize for hurting each other.
[The two of them remained silent, glaring at one another, and it was clear they'd inherited the stubborn streaks that both their parents had in spades. Maul glowered at both of them.]
Apologize now or I will get your sire involved.
[That finally got mumbled, sullen replies out of the two girls and Maul nodded, completely satisfied.]