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Post by striaga on Feb 6, 2018 12:14:47 GMT -6
H E L G A
It was set to be a rather amusing day, to say the least. Dorjan's ire was high after the events that had come to pass. Helga, given her relative free reign, made her way from his estate into the city, proper She kept her head tilted back. The way Helga moved was odd for a slave; a testament to her self-worth, to her actual worth. The Eminents knew her well enough. They all had to,
if they wanted to spend time with Dorjan. Helga was his dumb, quiet War Forged slave, was she not? But here, in the sun, her steel tusks gleamed, full of menace and promise. She made no attempt to apologize for who she was.
For what she was.
Aodh, after all, had made her this way.
She smiled, and ran her tongue against her tusks. She had never quailed under the eyes of the slave masters, only kept to the stereotypes they had of her. Two decades passed, unfurling before Helga, a path marked with quiet assassination and soft-spoken ratting-out of the plans of others. Once, she had killed a slave, behind closed doors, to keep Dorjan free of harm. It all came together. It was what she was. Helga breathed in, and directed her gaze towards a nearby shop.
These free men and women didn't understand. They played their games, but none had played as long as Helga. None had played the false hand--how many had slit a throat with lime-green teke and a sly smile? Very few. Helga had done it enough times.
Her musing, however, was interrupted by a sensation underneath her hoof. Helga snorted and raised her hoof up, glancing down. She wore a slave's bridle, but her demeanor was not that of a slave. She said nothing, just waited for the small colt to say his piece, first. Helga hoped he'd at least be interesting.
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villanesque
Nebula
"So that's it? What, we some kind of Starborn Alignment?"
Posts: 21 
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Post by villanesque on Feb 7, 2018 1:16:29 GMT -6
It was a solemn day for Corinth as he half-sat, half-laid down on one of the many cobblestone paths that cut through Valore. A lot of equines were giving him pointed looks, but they might as well have not existed for all he cared at the moment. Screw them. Right now he was trying desperately to figure out what to do with himself. In the gloomy aftermath of his mother's death, with all of his tears spent and his eyes dry as a desert, it was somewhat easier to think rather than when it had been several days ago when he curled himself up in a corner and was too shaken to even stand.
Well he did it--he ran away. And he had mucked about for a few days with no aim or direction. So what now? He couldn't go back, not back to his aunt who was probably livid. Corinth was strapped with cash and didn't have anything of value; he had only his savings and a collar that wasn't worth that much. He could always go to the Vatros Sanctum but the events over at Ignis Sanctum probably made it a bad idea for any homeless child to head to a sanctum right now. Homeless. The word rang in his head ominously. By Ignacio's Light, he was homeless. The word conjured up many ideas of what he could do now and very few of them were tantalizing, but he definitely couldn't go back home. Never.
"Oof!" Suddenly there had been a hard pressure on his haunches that jolted Corinth from his muddled thoughts, and it felt like a hoof. Was...was he being stepped on? On purpose or by accident? Corinth wasn't really all that in the way of most citizens in Valore. Well, did it matter? Corinth wasn't in the mood.
"Can you not--"the colt had begun, but the question died in his throat before it could be finished. The first thing that caught his eye about the horse towering above him was the pair of tusks protruding from the mare's mouth. She was a slave, he could tell that from her bridle.
She was a very huge and battle-scarred slave; a pit-fighter maybe.
Immediately Corinth began to wriggle underneath the mare's hoof, but it was like he was pinned by a boulder and he could barely move an inch. Mercifully, the slave did notice him and lifted her hoof off of him, so Corinth could scramble from underneath. He let out a soft sigh. She could probably have crushed him with that hoof if she wanted to.
"Whatever you're doing has gotta be very important," Corinth now mumbled, not meeting the mare's gaze as he stood up, "if you have to step on kids." Though as he stood there Corinth felt a bit wary of her. There was something very different about this mare that set her apart from the other slaves Corinth knew. For starters, she wasn't really looking at him like other slaves usually did. Just somewhat...differently. It was weird. He shivered.
Post #1
Word Count: 508
OOC: fix
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Post by striaga on Feb 7, 2018 17:57:24 GMT -6
H E L G A
He'd started to say something, and that made Helga's strong red brow furrow in entertainment; her tail swished and her ears flicked. The kid caught himself off, stopped. Helga wondered why. Did he have no spine? Did Ignacio not give this child the blessing of a backbone? To be expected from these idiots, Helga mused. Very few Aodhians measured up in her eyes. They did not understand the combination of rolling earth and roaring fire that was locked inside her chest. They would never.
Helga decided, in the span of a second, that she was done playing the fool. So she squared her gaze on the unicorn and showed him her tusks. They were the same in that regard: Kaia's children. "You had more to say." Helga's voice was deep, a rumble of loose rock. Her ears flicked back and forward for a moment, and she moved her hoof, at the least giving Corinth more room to settle in. He was afraid of her, perhaps. Helga didn't care so much if he was or not. She had more important things to do than terrify a child, but Dorjan was understanding enough. Helga was an extension of his will even as she spun her own plans. One day, soon, soon, her patience towards Ignacio would pay off. Her long-time awareness of Kaia would pay off.
She tilted her head up and smiled.
There is no real explanation for the sudden explosion of whim that seized Helga in that moment. No word for the desire that flickered in her chest; in the child she saw many opportunities. A thousand doors could be opened, if she greased the wheel.
So Helga's head lowered, and she tilted her great gaze, mismatched eyes sweeping him over. He was scrawny. Helga wondered if he'd ever worked a day in his life, really. He quailed from her scars. No, she told herself, it doesn't matter.
So her words came, but not before the silence between them stretched full and pregnant, burst with discomfort, swirled and became something vaguely menacing. "It's an errand," Helga said, raising up her head, her teeth flashing in a slow smile. "For my master. But he is a patient man, kid." Helga's tail swished. He wasn't really patient. Helga knew that much. She didn't care, though. Not now. Not now that her brain was firing on full cylinders, synapses screaming, giving her ideas that festered. "And maybe kids should learn how to stay out of the way of people with hooves like mine." Her hoof thudded against the ground, perhaps to make a point. Perhaps to let him know what she had done, in the past, in a more subtle kind of way.
"..and maybe," Helga said, going out on a limb, unsure but willing to reach, "a kid should walk with me, and get some food."
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villanesque
Nebula
"So that's it? What, we some kind of Starborn Alignment?"
Posts: 21
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Post by villanesque on Feb 8, 2018 0:40:59 GMT -6
Corinth blinked as the slave closed the distance between the two of them to respond, almost regretting what he said. He shuffled his hooves restlessly, suddenly feeling his hide heat up as she pointed out that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't have been sitting on the path where someone could walk on him. Yeah, duh. He felt incredibly stupid now. He was probably lucky she wasn't chewing him out even more.
Her accent made the street urchin furrow his brows. She wasn't a native here, but from somewhere else: Onea; Corinth could remember his tutor mimicking that same accent during his lecture on the neighboring herds. It felt surreal hearing it now from an actual War-Forged accent and knowing that it was just as heavy and highly contrasting from his own.
But despite his uncertainty of her, the one thing she said next peaked his interest. His ears swiveled forward eagerly and his eyes lit up. Food? She had money with her? Corinth didn't think slaves could buy things. His tutor never did--he was never allowed out of the house at all. That was probably the downside of homeschooling; he didn't know too much about other slaves except the ones at home.
Mother always said that it was dangerous to talk to strangers that offered things like food and money, because that meant that they wanted to kidnap you. But Mother wasn't here anymore and it would be a lie to say that he wasn't a bit hungry; he didn't really eat anything since the meager lunch yesterday, before things turned south very quickly. But the slave offering him (was she offering him? It kind of sounded more like a statement) a chance to eat something wasn't something he expected. Not that he was going to turn her down; he was not stupid. If this other unicorn was on an errand then he would have to be quick, despite her saying that it wasn't really a big deal. That was mostly for his own sake.
"I--well--I guess a kid should do all of those things," the colt (reluctantly) agreed, nodding his head and standing up just a little straighter, "if it gives you good company, Ma'am." Whatever it took to get on her good side, as long as it meant stuffing food down his mouth sooner. For things like politeness it wasn't more than a cakewalk for him; he just needed to agree with everything she said, right? Right.
Besides, if it turned out she was really a deranged kidnapper that wanted to wear his skin, he could always just run away.
Post #2
Word Count: 430
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Post by striaga on Feb 8, 2018 13:08:19 GMT -6
H E L G A
The colt shuffled, restless. Helga wondered if he thought himself lost, swept away. She tilted her head, let her ears flick, tapped her hoof against the ground beneath them. She felt satisfaction simmer in the barrel that was her chest. Between them, something hung and Helga wondered if the boy knew what it was--probably not. Opportunity. Her stance shifted, and she tilted her head again, the other side, watching, always watching. His voice was soft, Aodhian, as were all voices, but she wondered if this one was of a softer stock. He'd clearly not had to do as she'd done, once, but that was not uncommon. Her slaughter had been personally-driven. Ambitious. Foolish, too.
And, most of all, it had been two decades ago.
Helga let her head swing; there was a coin purse on her body. She was a slave, but she was a known, a quantity, a smiling thing. Dorjan's foolish slave--the skin she wore in public.
"Course it will." Helga laughed, deep and belly-shaking and Onean. "Wouldn't have offered it otherwise. You know, you look like you don't belong on the street." If he'd been a scraggly unicorn with as many scars as Helga, she wouldn't have said a word. But here she was, looking at Corinth, sizing him, judging him, silent. Then a smile, genuine enough, crossed her broad face. Helga shook her head, tossed her bangs a bit, and began to move, her pace leisurely and easy. She'd stepped on the kid, but she didn't intend to scare him too much. That would just leave him useless. She couldn't wait to return and tell Dorjan: We've got eyes on the street. Her battered ears twitched.
The city swirled around both equine. Helga served a sharp contrast to the boy, but didn't pay it much mind at all. "You look like you need money." Helga started; they came to a stop in front of a vendor. Helga named her Master, handed coin across, and gestured with her chin--a yogurt, with fruit. That's what she'd purchased. "Take it, kid. Sit with me. We've got to talk." Steel glinted in the sun. Muscles flexed. Helga picked a spot that was out of the way enough, where she could conduct her business.
"Eat. Like I said-I got time." Her bridle jangled as she shook her head and began to eat, savoring the taste of fruit against her tongue. She wanted for nothing but freedom; the boy, if he really was without a house, wanted for everything. Helga had everything to offer him; an extension, an alliance. "I could arrange it so you get on your feet. Won't get too much, until you prove useful, but..." Helga grinned, wide. Wicked. "I've got plans, kid. And you could be part of them."
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villanesque
Nebula
"So that's it? What, we some kind of Starborn Alignment?"
Posts: 21
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Post by villanesque on Feb 9, 2018 10:51:08 GMT -6
Corinth's heartbeat quickened. "I'm...new here."
It was a pretty lazy lie and he put no effort in making it sound convincing; Corinth was too hungry to really care. He probably stood out a lot in this part of Valore if it was so easy for this mare to tell that he didn't belong.
He tagged along behind the slave mare as she led the way down the bustling streets to a destination Corinth did not know and wasn't feeling brave enough to ask. Yet it was getting easier to trust her, with the seemingly honest smile she had given him before speaking. There was probably nothing to worry about.
They paused by a vendor's stall. Corinth stood to the side and waited as his companion ambled forward. When she said that he seemed to need money, the colt shrugged. His answer was pretty short.
"Maybe." He couldn't bring himself to say yes. It was kind of embarrassing, despite the circumstances. After all, this mare was still a slave and foreigner; Corinth still needed to look like he still had some sort of dignity left, even though she was buying him food. He didn't even know her name yet.
She turned to speak to the vendor and Corinth looked around, one ear swivieled in the stall's direction and another straight forward. He almost wasn't paying attention to the purchase instead the gentle lull of music that played in the streets and the chatter of equines passing by occupied him. Then there was a name the mare dropped that suddenly put the entire scene into a different light, one name that made him turn his head back towards the older horse in surprise.
Dorjan.
Corinth snapped back to attention. He was standing next to not just any slave, Lord Dorjan's slave. A Noble's slave. Corinth tried not to react in surprise or make it a big deal, taking the yogurt she bought him as calmly (and awkardly) as he could. Usually his mother always spoke of Nobles in such a negative way. Corinth didn't really care about those things either way; he was much more interested in things that didn't involve standing around a gossiping. However he did know a few things about the really important Nobles, and Dorjan was definitely one of them, being Adviser to the king. You'd have to be living under a rock to not really know. This would probably be the closest he would ever be near a Noble, let alone an Adviser--and here they were buying yogurt together. It explained how differently she seemed compared to the slaves Corinth grew up with. Were other Nobles' slaves like that?
At least that crossed out the possibility of being kidnapped by a deranged killer, he mused as he followed the mare to a less-populated part of the area. This was a lot better spot, where the heat of the sun warmed his shoulders thankfully. He began to eat and for that moment the yogurt was the best thing to ever enter his mouth. As he scarfed the food down the colt kept his attention on the slave as she spoke. What she had to say almost made him choke on his spoon.
"Planths?" Whoops, it was rude to speak with your mouth full. Corinth swallowed the last bit of yogurt and eyed the mare carefully. This was a bit harder to handle; hearing her say it made the corners of his mouth pull back in a slight, nervous smile.
She was joking with him, right? "Sorry. You want me to help you?"
Maybe he was stuck in some sort of fever dream and this was his way of handling his mother dying. Yes, running away and then dreaming that someone had all the answers to your problem. This was some sort of imagination vomit. In spite of his doubts on reality though, the mare seemed very serious and Corinth felt all so painfully awake, so his smile dissolved.
Post #3
Word Count: 660
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