Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
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Post by Kitsani on Nov 20, 2012 15:23:02 GMT -5
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At Jensen’s response to her question of his family, a hot wave of guilt seared her marbled, brown pelt. She immediately dropped her gaze, “No,” she said, “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry…for bringing it up.” She continued walking, and a thick, deafening silence seemed to have descended upon them. Nice, she sneered mentally, her dark sarcasm directed solely at herself. It was never her goal to cause others discomfort, especially those who had never wronged her. The guilt even made her muse over the thought of a soothing spell for a half a heartbeat, before that idea was dismissed with vigour; fat chance she’d sing. In front of a cat she just met, no less. And above all else, to manipulate someone’s feelings against their will seemed like a brand of control Jet deemed to dark to be used unless the other was fully aware.
And aware was exactly what Jet tried not to be as she padded through the woods, guiding the way towards the small lake and once again letting herself be relieved of the twilight’s shadows that helped conceal the guilty glare in her eyes as she scowled at the ground. She tried to be unaware of Jensen near her, and unaware of the scar that crawled along his left side. She tried to be unaware of the growing suspicion that she had just poked at a matter more… touchy than she had hoped. But the sokoke could be rather observant , and trying to block out so many things ended up merely giving herself a headache. So she settled for distraction.
The birds were beginning to finish up their songs and head to their nests in the trees that stretched and grew overhead, and in the distance somewhere a crow could be heard calling out to it’s carrion-eating companions. Perhaps it had found something out past it’s bedtime? Jet didn’t enjoy lingering on the thought; she had no quarrel with the animals around her, but no deep fondness either. Respect tended to be the word she used, and fish was the main part of her diet that ever required taking lives.
Even thinking about the fish and the birds and the trees, the dancer knew she needed to do something to get over it. It was strange, how heavily it affected her too; she could usually care less, or at least pretend to. But having prodded at Jensen made her feel thoroughly disturbed. Deep down the tabby cat suspected it was because she remembered how she felt every time somebody expressed surprise or distaste at the feel of her paws. The sickening flashbacks she’d have to deal with, and the time she would waste trying to convince those around her that she was unfazed by her scars. The time she’d spend lying about it.
It was then she made up her mind, a decision that seemed to go against every fibre in her body. Jet shattered the silence, “I was 2 months when I fist cut my paw.” She stated, as if it were a matter-of-fact observation to which she was indifferent. Her confidence steeling with pleasure at how her voice had resisted wavering, she continued. “My mom… well, she wanted me to be the best dancer I could. That woman drove me into the ground,” she laughed dryly. “But I still loved her for it. When dad died, she didn’t really leave the house as much. Dad was always at work, I guess you can’t miss what you never had. But I felt bad for my mother; she was clearly very upset about his death. So I knew I needed to be good, for her. Maybe if I could dance the way she used to, her eyes wouldn’t look as hollow, y’know? It didn’t work out so well.
“I remember having to go down to the stream to wash off my paws, else my mother would get mad at me for trekking blood into the house. It’s not that I kept wounding my paws over and over, it’s that the practicing broke the pads. That’s the part where the calluses would grow over, right? And then they’d be strong. But….the practicing never stopped. It couldn’t ever stop. So I guess they just never had the chance to heal. I think my mom was proud of my before she died. I can’t afford to think anything else, anyway,” the sokoke smiled softly, “I really did love her, and she must’ve loved me too if she wanted me to be good, right?” The question was rhetorical.
A small silence fell again, but Jet hoped maybe – just maybe – sharing how she got her own scars might help make amends for having possibly brought up his own. It seemed so rude, and she still writhed inside at having said anything about her paws. She didn’t like it when others knew. She loathed it. The last thing she wanted cats around her pictured was herself sticking the paws she had broken open into the river and watching the tiny trickles of her blood drift away, her expression that of stone because it had become such a routine. Her ears burned with embarrassment, and she lowered them uneasily.
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Riv
New Member
Jensen Howle
Posts: 28
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Post by Riv on Nov 22, 2012 12:39:18 GMT -5
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Jensen followed her with a bit of a guilty expression. She'd apologized to him? She had no way of knowing that that particular question was one that he didn't really like thinking about, that he didn't really have an answer that he could give her. How many other cats could have the same trauma connected to their family? It was his fault, he knew, for slipping his composure, for not having thought of an answer that he could give anycat who happened on him. It wasn't her fault, and making her uncomfortable like that probably had just ruined any real chance he had of getting to know her. She probably thought he was a weirdo with something to hide. He didn't like having to hide it, but he also... wasn't sure that he really wanted to talk about it.
He remembered telling his master about that night. It had been quite awhile after he had found the master's house, when the siamese had accepted him into training. To this day Jensen didn't really know why--a bitter young tom with half-healed scars, a hood, and the attitude of a serial killer shouldn't have gotten much more than a cold look and a door in the face, if even that. But the master hadn't asked him about it for a long time. He'd let Jensen heal, had asked at just the right time so Jensen could tell the story, relive the night and move on from it. The cat had been a master at more than a blade, and Jensen wondered how many cats he had trained who had stories like his own. It was a comforting thought, that he might not be alone in that respect. He'd moved on from it, really he had, but there were times (like tonight) where it still prickled at him.
He wondered why that was--why it was tonight of all nights that his block from what had happened was back in place. It happened sometimes, but not very often. He could think about it with sorrow, but not usually with the same pain as there had been before. He remembered the way he had frozen when he had first come across Jet dancing, the way he hadn't really been able to move even though he had known that he should leave. It had reminded him of Willa, the way that she'd danced when she was alive, even though the moves had been more complex. Was that it, then? Such a shocking memory coming back that had thrown him to this extent? But as strange as that was, he didn't feel any hostility towards Jet. It wasn't her fault, after all. She just... didn't know. And that was alright--Jensen didn't want to burden cats with his own sob stories. He knew from experience how much that other cats had to deal with in their own lives. Though he wanted to apologize back to her, ensure her that it wasn't her fault at all, he said nothing. He supposed it wouldn't lead anywhere, the two of them trying to take the blame from one another.
But he supposed Jet would cut and run when she could.
Jensen perked up when she did not, and in fact seemed to be keeping her promise to show him the pool that she had spoken about earlier. She hadn't been too disgusted, disturbed, or creeped out as he had feared, or at least she was very good at hiding it. He let his stride lengthen slightly so he wasn't trailing behind her, resuming their side-by-side walk to where she was taking him. It was a path that he had not known before, though he thought he might have been able to trace it on a map if she has shown him one. he'd never been to this particular area, and hadn't known what was out here--one of the many places that he wanted to explore. It certainly was beautiful--the birds that hadn't yet fled south for the winter that was approaching were beginning to retreat to their beds as the sun slipped down the horizon, setting the leaves on fire with its red and golden glow. Jensen thought that the leaves didn't need much help--they were fire anyway, swirling from the highest branches to paper their path. He felt them brush the fur on his feet and soften the ground under his pads. He did love the autumn--both in smell and in looks.
Though he was slightly uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen between he and the marbled dancer. He usually didn't like silence when he was with someone as a rule, though there were times that he could be comfortable with it. This wasn't one of those times, for as they walked he couldn't help but wonder what she must have been thinking about. To leave off their conversation on such an awkward, almost ugly note, and to leave that ugliness to stew made him wish that he could say something. He tried to search for something that he could say--anything would do, really--and was relieved when it was she who broke the silence.
He turned his eyes to her again, listening openly to her story and not interrupting her when she spoke. He imagined that it might be hard for her, to tell such a thing to someone that she probably thought was a complete stranger. He couldn't help but wonder why she was telling such a thing--it seemed to require a certain amount of trust, or respect, which he wasn't sure that he had really earned. Could it be... that this was her apology? For asking him the question he so gracelessly dodged? He hoped she didn't feel that she owed him this. But he listened regardless of her motives.
Two months. So young.
And it was a sad story, truth be told. He didn't want to show her pity--he'd never wanted pity from anyone who saw his own scars--but he couldn't help but feel sad that she'd had such a life growing up. It was what it took sometimes, he knew, to become a master at something, like he was a master at his own swordplay. He remembered a few instances of bloody paws too but... even his master hadn't pushed him so far as Jet seemed to have been pushed. No father to grow up with, a mother devastated by the death of someone they loved. Jensen knew personally how bitter that could leave someone. He could understand what Jet's mother had been like, maybe even in a way that Jet hadn't. Had her mother felt empty, felt driven to do something about it but could find nothing at all in her power to do? With no one to blame and a need for action, he imagined that Jet had been the object of the she-cat's anger, her hopelessness. But perhaps it was different--a child was something to love, for she hadn't lost everything, had she? It was still a terrible thing to think about.
"Of course she loved you," Jensen said, and though he knew that there was no real way for him to be sure as he had never met the sokoke's mother... he wasn't lying either. He felt in his gut that he knew the truth, and he tried to think of some way to phrase it. He didn't want this to be something that caused her pain in memory of a mother she clearly loved. And though he supposed she had no reason to trust his word, he continued anyway. "She must have felt so bitter, so empty after she lost your father. You may have been all that kept her going. Perhaps she wanted to be sure that you had a life, you had a way to keep yourself happy and fed when she was gone. The death of a loved one... it can change a cat. But even if she was changed like that, you may have been all she had left. The one thing to make her happy, something to be proud of." He rolled back his broad shoulders slightly in a shrug, tilting his head. His lamplight-eyes were soft, and maybe even a little apologetic. "I'm sorry miss, I know it's not my place to say. But if she could see the way you can dance now, I have no doubt she would be proud of you." Finished now, he felt slightly embarrassed. He didn't want her to feel ashamed of anything she might have done to become what she was, but he didn't want to sound preachy. Or sound as though he were lying, since of course he couldn't really know.
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Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
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Post by Kitsani on Jan 20, 2013 15:54:36 GMT -5
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Jet nodded curtly at his response to her tale, but could already tell he wasn’t quite ready to open up still. She stifled a sigh; ah well, who was she to pry? There was a fairly good chance she wouldn’t even see this cat after today, unless he lived close by. Jet often traveled around to the different areas of Gweillan, but as a dancer it sometimes wasn’t worth the effort. If she got caught out late in the Southern Quarter, it could take her hours to find her way back to her home….a thought that was far from pleasing. But they weren’t going too far today, and they were already at the pool. Flicking her tail and listening to her bells give a jingle, the sokoke smiled slightly at Jensen’s words. “No no, no need to apologise… it means a lot. Thanks.”
She decided she didn’t think her was preachy. Did she trust him? No. But at the same time, she felt she could become friends with this strange cat who wore his cloak so protectively, and guarded his secrets even more so. It was hard to tell if a secretive cat could be trusted better or less than the average loud-mouth. It meant if she told him something, there was a good chance it wouldn’t be all over Gweillan the next day, or it could mean he’s hiding motives she would have reasons to fear or avoid. Either way, the time for secrets seemed to have passed; they had made it to the pool.
Stepping out of the forest cluster, Jet smiled in the dim light of the moon. The stars were reflected in the mirror of still water, and this was one of the few places Jet would actually go swimming. The salty water of the Ocean left her fur a mess, and left her needed to take another bath even after just being in the water. Not to mention she was scared of what could be in the ocean right under her paws…not that she’d ever admit that. The hot springs were nice, but their distance from her home usually weren’t worth the journey. But this lake was nearby and actually quite nice, and with a proud smirk she glanced back over at Jensen. “Ta-daa,” she said dryly, but then laughed with a touch more sincerity at how bored she had sounded.
Truth be told, she was actually kind of enjoying the evening walk. Had she not met Jensen, there was a pretty good chance she’d be laying around at home boredly, out of options for things to do to entertain herself, but deeming it too dark to wander outside alone. But now she got to be out under the stars, and now that they’ve left the cover of the trees she could see there weren’t too many clouds in the sky, which was a nice touch. “Well, now you know of one more place in Gwellian…you’re welcome,” she meowed innocently, with a crooked smirk. Jet decided that finally arriving at the lake was lightening the mood, considering now there was a clear distraction from their previous conversation. When you’re stuck in the woods and trying to find something other than your past to talk about, directing the topic by saying something along the lines of ‘hey, look at that tree,’ wasn’t exactly smooth to say the least. She studied his expression curiously, wondering what exactly it was he thought of the place. It wasn’t all that special, but it was better than the boring streets of the Eastern Quarter in her own opinion.
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Riv
New Member
Jensen Howle
Posts: 28
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Post by Riv on Jan 20, 2013 16:25:17 GMT -5
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He gave her a slightly relieved smile when he realized that she didn't think he was stark-raving mad or anything of the sort. He was surprised that they'd come this far, as a matter of fact, and that she hadn't already turned tail and left for home. He'd given her plenty of opportunity, that was for sure. He really hoped that he would get better at this--simple conversations with other cats. Next time he wouldn't be so quick to bring up history. He hadn't really meant to, but it had been some time since he'd spoken to anyone but other Legionnaires, and then usually it was about work or other business.
He looked up at her "ta-daa" and took in his new surroundings. They'd come upon it so suddenly that Jensen was sure that if he'd been on his own, he would have missed it. How had she been able to find this place? Exploring was something that he'd definitely have to start doing, once he'd settled in and gotten more time to himself.
Night had fallen completely over the area at this point, though in the moonlight and the shine of the stars it held an ethereal, glowing beauty that it might not have had in the daylight, though there was no doubt it would have been lovely then, too. He'd always found beauty in the night to be much more elusive than beauty to be found during the day, but when it was there it often surpassed anything that the sun could shine on. With daylight came comfort and warmth, but with night came spectacles of true wonder.
Not that the modest little pool was fraught with revelation, but it still brought the smile back onto Jensen's face. "Wow!" he said, stepping forward, his cape swirling about his ankles as he stepped up to the water's edge. "This is lovely, Jet!" His whiskers quivered as he leaned over the pool, looking down through the water. It was incredibly clear and clean, with stars that seemed to bounce of the surface and reflect again in his yellow-green eyes. It smelled nice, too--crisp and clean, even with the tinge of cold that hovered in the air, promising that the show and winter would both be coming soon.
He sat beside the water, dotted with stars, and talked to her as the moon began to slowly climb through the sky. He found that he quite enjoyed talking to the little gray sokoke, and listening to what she had to say as well. It was a pity that it was getting far too late for any decent cat to be up and about. It had been a long day for Jensen already, and he imagined that Jet was weary from her dancing as well.
Finally, Jensen found himself almost nodding off to the murmur of their conversation, and started upright, giving himself a shake. "I do believe I am falling asleep on you, miss," he told her apologetically, standing and offering a paw to help her up. "It's getting late. Would you like me to walk you home?"
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