(beastfolk—khajiit, argonians—strong and agile. they are the perfect slaves, the perfect mules, the perfect warriors, and voryn, a chimer of science content to study others, has private admiration for their forms as one has admiration for a wild creature tamed and collared. despite this, he's never suffered their small rebellions. runaways in disparate groups on his brothers' plantations were few and far between, but there were runaways. economically, they were punished for their individuality by being sold as bargaining tools to be invested in the mining industry or in expanding sixth house land in the east and west. and he recalls, as he's caught and wrenched across the chaise into hayame's grasp, numerous were killed for their desertion. voryn considers it ironic that the hammer falls on him, now, but that is all he considers, ascribing no further meaning to the poetic justice of his seizure.
in the air, he dispassionately takes note of his new injury. his leg had struck the ground in his attempt at retreating from hayame, and now the skin of his knees has been scraped bloody and bruised. now his chest aches as she holds him off of his feet, hands gripping so tightly in the neck of his robes that her knuckles press in hard along his clavicle.)
Hah-hah-hah... (voryn laughs, though the noise is strangled out as the grip near his neck becomes painful.) I can give you several.
(a general remains calm when facing danger. in his fist lies his only weapon: the bent iron nail received from a merchant before joining the forum of new and old shard-bearers. he has encountered worse fights in worse places and fought victoriously with worse odds. his mind, traitorous even now, unhelpfully supplies that hayame shows the same wild pride as his master, his lord and his defiant eyes, and it disgusts him to have to think of it.) You will listen to my reasons. After I have spoken, you will accept my honesties or disregard them as untruths.
(while there is no place for him to go, totally ensnared by her greater strength, that does not mean that there is nothing for him to do. the crowd doesn't bear down on them, but it watches, partly curious, partly frightened. voryn looks at them briefly, the creasing between his brow deepening in an effort to demonstrate his resolve publically and without shame. there is no retaliation from him, because that would be imprudent now that he holds their attention; at this time, voryn decides perhaps madly that he would rather accept the full force of her ire than attack or spit at her or try to cause harm to her in any way.
the nail heating in the dryness of his palm is forgotten. instead, he speaks slowly and softly so that others are unable to hear him.)
Hear me, for I put my titles aside now to address you as a warrior.
You will never be respected if you do not learn to control your nature. I know this because I have seen it in my chap'thil, House soldiers with spirits yet unbroken in battle. You will be seen by all as violence in flesh, untempered and cruel, and this will reflect on your faction, be you Meridian or Zenith. Your task of restoring your world and ways or the treasured soul of the person you once knew will be made more difficult by the total assassination of your reliability.
The obstacles on the path of making enemies are outweighed by the difficulty of swallowing one's pride.
(an ancient red stare bears down on hayame's as she too watches him, the two similar in their disdain and stubbornness. this is a lesson quickly learned for him; words and stares must be guarded here to prevent any more disturbances. he will adapt to it to survive and rise in the faction's ranks because this is what he must do for the sake of his family.
for the sake of his revenge.)
Put me down. Show Springstar that these things are wrong to assume.
IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL... MY EYES!!!!!!!!
in the air, he dispassionately takes note of his new injury. his leg had struck the ground in his attempt at retreating from hayame, and now the skin of his knees has been scraped bloody and bruised. now his chest aches as she holds him off of his feet, hands gripping so tightly in the neck of his robes that her knuckles press in hard along his clavicle.)
Hah-hah-hah... (voryn laughs, though the noise is strangled out as the grip near his neck becomes painful.) I can give you several.
(a general remains calm when facing danger. in his fist lies his only weapon: the bent iron nail received from a merchant before joining the forum of new and old shard-bearers. he has encountered worse fights in worse places and fought victoriously with worse odds. his mind, traitorous even now, unhelpfully supplies that hayame shows the same wild pride as his master, his lord and his defiant eyes, and it disgusts him to have to think of it.) You will listen to my reasons. After I have spoken, you will accept my honesties or disregard them as untruths.
(while there is no place for him to go, totally ensnared by her greater strength, that does not mean that there is nothing for him to do. the crowd doesn't bear down on them, but it watches, partly curious, partly frightened. voryn looks at them briefly, the creasing between his brow deepening in an effort to demonstrate his resolve publically and without shame. there is no retaliation from him, because that would be imprudent now that he holds their attention; at this time, voryn decides perhaps madly that he would rather accept the full force of her ire than attack or spit at her or try to cause harm to her in any way.
the nail heating in the dryness of his palm is forgotten. instead, he speaks slowly and softly so that others are unable to hear him.)
Hear me, for I put my titles aside now to address you as a warrior.
You will never be respected if you do not learn to control your nature. I know this because I have seen it in my chap'thil, House soldiers with spirits yet unbroken in battle. You will be seen by all as violence in flesh, untempered and cruel, and this will reflect on your faction, be you Meridian or Zenith. Your task of restoring your world and ways or the treasured soul of the person you once knew will be made more difficult by the total assassination of your reliability.
The obstacles on the path of making enemies are outweighed by the difficulty of swallowing one's pride.
(an ancient red stare bears down on hayame's as she too watches him, the two similar in their disdain and stubbornness. this is a lesson quickly learned for him; words and stares must be guarded here to prevent any more disturbances. he will adapt to it to survive and rise in the faction's ranks because this is what he must do for the sake of his family.
for the sake of his revenge.)
Put me down. Show Springstar that these things are wrong to assume.