Post by Kestrel on Jul 21, 2009 16:42:17 GMT 1
((Strictly, incredibly OOC. This is the stuff Kes has never talked about, and probably won't either. By way of explanation, Kestrel has always been an experiment in character building. The exercise was simple: How badly can you break a character, without it ever showing or mattering to the people you play with? Can you have a character built entirely on trauma, and not have them be an in-effin'-tolerable Angsty-Sue?
Three years after the fact, of course, I realise that Kes was never built on trauma - she's built on love. Trauma looms huge in her background, but every action she takes still grows from the loyalty and love she has for things older and stronger than her. It's always been about what she owes the world, not what the world owes her - and that's why I think she gets away with the background, Sue-free.))
Part 1: Damaged
Down on your knees
You'll be left behind
This is the beginning
~
Nine Inch Nails: The Beginning of the End
There had been six of them, when the Highborne caught up and trapped them. Arriana, always the best of them, had died shortly after. “I’ll never tell,” she had said, fierce as moonfire, and spat in the golden eyes of the Highborne magus. “I believe you,” he had answered softly, and closed the gloved hand gripping the captain’s graceful throat. Light had blossomed, fleshy and red as it burst inside her skull: she hadn’t even screamed, just jerked like a shaken kitten and folded, limp and gone. The magus had dropped the body, as if discarding a tainted piece of food, and ordered the rest of them brought.
Arriana had, she had since realized, been the fortunate one.
She did not know which of them would die next. She had begun to pray to the goddess it would be her. She had nothing left – she had defied them, cursed them, even begged. “All this you will do,” the Highborne magus had told them, in the beginning when his servants stripped them and hung them from the wrists like meat, to watch whichever one of their sisters dragged off in turn, and brought back later, bleeding and blank-eyed, stinking of the blackest magics ever dreamed by the Highborne. “All this you will do – and then, finally, one of you will tell me what I first asked so very reasonably.”
She hoped, prayed she would die today. No-one this desperate for what they had stolen should ever have it returned to them. No-one this desperate should know where the Evenstar lay hidden.
Later. She was never sure how much later, in time or in blood, because all that ever changed in the sorceror’s dungeon had been which one of their dwindling number the leeches choose to torment. She had become used to it, to the smells of blood and fire, and to the sounds of screaming and violence. It had taken time for her to realize that this was something new, something she should notice and care about. Things crashing, fire flashing, the roar of bears and wild cats, the Highborne magus howling in pain and fury…
…and then silence, unexpected and hard enough to break bone. After a small forever, a great wolf prowled into view, singed and streaked with fresh blood. It growled and cringed at the sight of her, its outlines blurred, became a man’s. Whatever oath the druid breathed as his golden eyes swept up her drawn body stayed between him and the Moon – because then he found his voice, and his feet. “Here!” he barked, and pulled up off his haunches. She was almost certain he apologised, before he began cutting through her magebonds, and the backlash from unraveling magics sent her wailing into unconsciousness.
Later still. There had been six when she and her sisters were captured: two still had breath when the Circle’s druids found them and came to their rescue. Though the druids had asked, neither would speak of the mission that killed so many of them, afterward. Though the rescuers mended what wounds they could, promised the leeches had fled and carried them to Moonglade to heal, neither would ever say why they had been taken. Neither believed it could be over.
And it wasn’t, she had realized later. It wouldn’t be, as long as the Highborne and their demons wanted what the six and Cenarius alone had known. She buried her last sister in Ashenvale days later, blood still fresh on her hands, raging and cursing them all for finding an escape and leaving her to carry the secret alone. And that had been when she realized, she didn’t have to.
It would be two days before the wolf with the golden eyes would find her again, in the high hills hiding the sorceror’s ruined tower. Those two days later she would stand on the edge of a cliff, a step away from eternity, and the wolf would tell her to take it, if she really wanted to – or to come with him, if all she wanted was a way to escape.
Three years after the fact, of course, I realise that Kes was never built on trauma - she's built on love. Trauma looms huge in her background, but every action she takes still grows from the loyalty and love she has for things older and stronger than her. It's always been about what she owes the world, not what the world owes her - and that's why I think she gets away with the background, Sue-free.))
Part 1: Damaged
Down on your knees
You'll be left behind
This is the beginning
~
Nine Inch Nails: The Beginning of the End
There had been six of them, when the Highborne caught up and trapped them. Arriana, always the best of them, had died shortly after. “I’ll never tell,” she had said, fierce as moonfire, and spat in the golden eyes of the Highborne magus. “I believe you,” he had answered softly, and closed the gloved hand gripping the captain’s graceful throat. Light had blossomed, fleshy and red as it burst inside her skull: she hadn’t even screamed, just jerked like a shaken kitten and folded, limp and gone. The magus had dropped the body, as if discarding a tainted piece of food, and ordered the rest of them brought.
Arriana had, she had since realized, been the fortunate one.
She did not know which of them would die next. She had begun to pray to the goddess it would be her. She had nothing left – she had defied them, cursed them, even begged. “All this you will do,” the Highborne magus had told them, in the beginning when his servants stripped them and hung them from the wrists like meat, to watch whichever one of their sisters dragged off in turn, and brought back later, bleeding and blank-eyed, stinking of the blackest magics ever dreamed by the Highborne. “All this you will do – and then, finally, one of you will tell me what I first asked so very reasonably.”
She hoped, prayed she would die today. No-one this desperate for what they had stolen should ever have it returned to them. No-one this desperate should know where the Evenstar lay hidden.
Later. She was never sure how much later, in time or in blood, because all that ever changed in the sorceror’s dungeon had been which one of their dwindling number the leeches choose to torment. She had become used to it, to the smells of blood and fire, and to the sounds of screaming and violence. It had taken time for her to realize that this was something new, something she should notice and care about. Things crashing, fire flashing, the roar of bears and wild cats, the Highborne magus howling in pain and fury…
…and then silence, unexpected and hard enough to break bone. After a small forever, a great wolf prowled into view, singed and streaked with fresh blood. It growled and cringed at the sight of her, its outlines blurred, became a man’s. Whatever oath the druid breathed as his golden eyes swept up her drawn body stayed between him and the Moon – because then he found his voice, and his feet. “Here!” he barked, and pulled up off his haunches. She was almost certain he apologised, before he began cutting through her magebonds, and the backlash from unraveling magics sent her wailing into unconsciousness.
Later still. There had been six when she and her sisters were captured: two still had breath when the Circle’s druids found them and came to their rescue. Though the druids had asked, neither would speak of the mission that killed so many of them, afterward. Though the rescuers mended what wounds they could, promised the leeches had fled and carried them to Moonglade to heal, neither would ever say why they had been taken. Neither believed it could be over.
And it wasn’t, she had realized later. It wouldn’t be, as long as the Highborne and their demons wanted what the six and Cenarius alone had known. She buried her last sister in Ashenvale days later, blood still fresh on her hands, raging and cursing them all for finding an escape and leaving her to carry the secret alone. And that had been when she realized, she didn’t have to.
It would be two days before the wolf with the golden eyes would find her again, in the high hills hiding the sorceror’s ruined tower. Those two days later she would stand on the edge of a cliff, a step away from eternity, and the wolf would tell her to take it, if she really wanted to – or to come with him, if all she wanted was a way to escape.