Closed [Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Tim and Kaitanu meet for one last time.

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This lazy agricultural settlement rests on the swampy shores of the Middle Suvan at the delta of The Kenash River. The River's slow moving bayou waters have bred a different sort of people - rugged, cultured, and somewhat violent. Sprawling plantations of tobacco and cotton grow on the outskirts of the swamp in the rich Cyphrus soils, while the city itself curls around the bayou and spawns decadence and sins of all sorts. Life is slower in Kenash, but the lack of pace is made up for in the excesses of food and flesh in a city where drinking, debauchery, gambling, slavery, and overbearing plantation families dominate the landscape.

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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Timothy Mered on November 27th, 2014, 2:50 pm

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30th of Fall 514AV


OOCThe thread with Edmund was on the 20th of Fall, prior to this one. As such, I think it is fair to assume they would be acquainted by now.

The day was winding down to an end. Golden rays set the little shop ablaze and made everything inside look better. Now that Jed had allowed him to help construct some of furniture on offer his opinion on the overall quality had changed favorably. Most pieces were still low-grade but that, he'd figured, was a good thing, for they would break sooner and need replacement which could so far only be gotten at Jed's.

Should they ever manage to get better, Tim vowed to himself to leave some splinters in the seating and prick a royal butt or two. Jed would probably notice though, it was still an amusing thought.

Stretching out to his full height, he yawned. It had been a long, quiet day so far, so much so that Jed had entrusted him to deal with any potential visitors. So far however the sleepy-eyed gazes he'd sent out onto the street had done little to lure in customers.

Stiff and tired from having to sit still he slid off the high stool behind the counter and stretched his legs a bit. Jed wasn't around to make him sit again and Matilla and Sander were nowhere in sight either. At times, he really had no idea where Jed went, though he suspected the man had holed up in that dark, muggy office of his.

He liked it better this way, no matter how dull it was to look over a shop full of inanimate objects that reeked of varnish besides. It was still better than having to endure three sets of prying eyes monitoring his every move. In a sense, the shop floor was a little world in which he was free to go wherever he liked.

He was just letting his fingers slide over one of the cabinets he'd helped build when the door bell jingled. Startled, he spun around on his heel to meet the stranger who'd decided to wander in half a bell before closing time. The man had piercing blue eyes and was rather tall, though not as big as Jed. Tim's brows knitted together, "Kaitanu?" he beamed.

He'd met the pale slave ten days ago. If there was any face he'd longed to see again, it was that of the young Kelvic with his startling blue eyes. Without warning, Timothy launched himself at Kaitanu and hugged him tightly. Just as abruptly as he'd entered into an embrace, he retreated from it. "What are you doing here?" his green eyes searched the pale slave for an answer. "I can't recommend anything," he added in a low whisper, "it's all a bit rickety."

The brief silence that followed was only interrupted by a low growl emanating from his stomach. Timothy didn't pay it much heed though, he was far too excited to see Kaitanu's friendly face again.
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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Kaitanu on December 30th, 2014, 8:49 am

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(OOC: Definitely acquainted, yes. We can have it so that they didn't really get to any in-depth talking or anything like that, so they could do it here. Man, after that welcome from Tim I hate to see them parted. Kaitanu literally has no one who cares about him, so this is a first.)

It could be said of Kaitanu that he was, as a rule, completely unflappable. It behooved a slave not to be caught off-guard since the consequences were often severe. Having been one all his life the kelvic had learned how to roll with the punches, adapting himself to the harshest environments in order to survive. Yet Tim's affectionate attack was so unexpected, so alien to the kelvic, that at first he didn't know what to do. The default response was to go very still in expectation of violence. Kaitanu had never had anyone throw themselves in his direction except to cause him some kind of pain. To be tightly embraced instead was a sensation he had never experienced before; at least, not that he could remember. To have a smile so bright accompany those tightly-coiled arms was just as bewildering. Even after Tim pulled back, Kaitanu remained utterly still, a look of shock on his face. It had been a long time, indeed, since that pale and placid countenance had been disturbed by true emotion.

For several beats the kelvic didn't know what to do with himself. Initially, he didn't dare move or make a sound in case anyone else was watching. It had nothing to do with shame at public displays of affection; Jed might choose to box Tim's ears for being so friendly. However, no one else seemed to be around, and shock was replaced by puzzlement. A warm sensation was melting over him, but he didn't quite understand what it was, or why he suddenly wished the boy had held on longer. The concept of friendship, as it applied to himself, was not something the pale slave understood.

"I am here to purchase some varnish for my master." Kaitanu managed to say after a moment. It was an automatic answer, taking place of the questions that he suddenly wished to ask but didn't, because old habits died hard. Slaves were not meant to be curious. They were also not meant to embrace one another the way freemen did, yet Tim had done just that. It may not have seemed like anything remarkable to the boy, but to Kaitanu it was a revelation. Looking into those bright green eyes seemed to confirm the kelvic's sudden understanding; Tim was actually glad to see him.

Poor Tim must really have been starved for any kindness to look on Kaitanu so eagerly. Or, perhaps, the kelvic was simply not able to assess his own worth. Without realizing it, he had shown a hundred little kindnesses to Tim during their last encounter, but could not recall that fact because they had come from a deeper part of himself. His desire to help and comfort the younger slave had been instinctive, as was his notice of the boy's hunger the next moment.

"You have not yet eaten." he murmured. It wasn't a question; slaves were usually kept on thin rations unless their masters were unusually generous. Even Master Edmund's relative liberality couldn't be mistaken for a feast. However, Tim was a growing child and Kaitanu was not, so he didn't think twice about reaching into the satchel at his hip for the meagre breakfast he hadn't had time to eat. Just a bottom crust from Blacksugar's ovens, and a few slices of plain cheese, but it was more than he'd been used to in Ravok. Kaitanu pressed the small bundle of food discreetly into the boy's hand.

"My Master requires another bottle of the varnish; a darker tint than last month." He spoke a little louder, in case anyone should be listening. The pale slave's deep eyes turned briefly toward a farther corner of the shop, out of direct sight of the front windows. Whether Tim gobbled down Kaitanu's offering then or chose to hide it for later was up to him; just so long as no one else saw. There was something about slaves eating food in public that seemed to offend masters into violence. Pretty much everything did, in Kaitanu's experience.

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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Timothy Mered on December 31st, 2014, 2:06 am

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30th of Fall 514AV


Timothy shook his head. Twice a day his eyes would brighten, once during breakfast and once during supper. It was only on rare occasions like these that he didn’t think about food too much. “Are you sure?” he whispered when Kaitanu pressed the crusts and cheese into his hand. The Kelvic appeared determined however and continued to speak loudly. He could see why. If Jed had been around, he would’ve restrained himself, but with all three of his guards out of sight he hadn’t held back.

Following Kaitanu’s gaze to the corner, Timothy understood the silent hint and nodded. “I’ll see what I can find for you, but first, you really ought to take a look at these cabinets, they’re cheap but sturdy and I am sure they’d fit nicely into the Morealis household.” He doubted Sander, Matilla, or Jed were even listening, and if they were they would probably find his voice painfully dull and normal. Silently, he tugged at Kaitanu’s sleeve and jutted his chin towards the corner.

Out of sight, Timothy broke the crusts into two, cupping one hand underneath to avoid spilling anything on the floor. Crumbs still counted as food and it would save him the effort of fetching a broom. The bread was dry, burnt and the cheese too salty for his liking, but it eased his tummy.

“No?” Timothy spoke loudly. “Then how about these stools? They come very cheap…” He tried not to laugh as he glanced up at Kaitanu. It was odd to stand still and feign a conversation and he feared remaining quiet for too long, or Jed might actually come out and see if his least favorite slave hadn’t starved and collapsed. Jabbing his elbow into the pale slave’s side, Timothy hoped Kaitanu would have the wisdom to make up a reply. Once Kaitanu would’ve made something up, he would continue to say, “Alright, I’ll fetch the varnish then, it’s back in the workshop, just a moment please.”

Kaitanu was left to stand in the showroom as he stepped through the creaking door and banged it shut behind him. It was darker and muggier inside, but the lanky shadow of Sander, hunched over some paperwork was distinct.

“Tim.”

He nearly pranced. Sander never spoke much, not to Jed, not to Matilla, not to the client, and least of all to Tim. For a tick, he had to connect the voice to the weary-eyed clerk.

“Yes?”

Sander motioned for him to come over. Frowning, Timothy obliged.

“What is it?” he asked. “It’s just one of the Morealis slaves,” he added pre-emptively, shooting a glance at the door.

“I don’t care who it is,” Sander snapped back. “Just shut up and listen.”
Tim clenched his jaw.

“I heard,” Sander moved in closer, “Jed’s been talking to some of the slavers in town. There will be few auctions this season as slaves are hard to move through winter. It’s slow, cold, and there’s a risk of people dying.” His eyes pierced Tim’s. “Now, you haven’t really impressed Jed with your…antics, and just last night I heard him say he means to sell you.”

Timothy forgot all about Kaitanu, his jaw dropped an inch and for once, he was stumped. Antics? he wasn’t quite sure what the word meant, but he had a hunch. Anger flared up. Sander’s words were like a bellow to a sizzling ember. What had he done to upset Jed? When would he be sold, and to whom?

His knees buckled ever so slightly and a drowsy faintness washed over him. “B-but…why?” he managed to choke out after five ticks.

Sander shrugged.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“But…when?”

Sander shook his head.

“Who’s bidding? Where will I go?”

No answers came and Sander returned to his paperwork. When he found Timothy still standing next to him half a chime later he snapped, “you have a customer waiting. Get to it.”

It took him almost two chimes of circling through the workshop before he tracked down the requested varnish to one of the lower shelves. Stumbling over his own feet and looking twice as pale as before, Timtohy re-entered the showroom and handed Kaitanu the varnish without another word.

“I’ll write it down in the books,” he said dully. Coppers and silvers didn’t exists to Dynasts and Jed and Edmund were good enough friends to allow delaying of payment. Pressing his lips together in concentration, Timothy snapped out of his thoughts and bashfully asked, “will that be all?”
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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Kaitanu on January 1st, 2015, 9:52 am

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Not one to put up a fight in any case, Kaitanu let the boy divide the food without comment. For him it was enough that Tim was eating. To see his fellow slave brighten up like that was worth the possibility of getting in trouble. It was a new and delightful thing not just to share the morsels, but also the pretense of doing business. The boy's stifled laughter brought a rare smile to Kaitanu's pale lips. He liked that sound very much, even if Tim couldn't give it free rein. Kaitanu even felt a tiny tickle in his throat that may have been a chuckle trying to get out. To the best of his memory the kelvic slave had never laughed, so that much was a feat indeed. For the present, he was content to let Tim's merriment count for both, though his own eyes brightened as he played along.

"I am afraid I could not purchase even one of your excellent stools without my master's instructions."

If there was one thing the kelvic was good at it was acting. In spite of the smile twitching around his mouth, his voice remained soft and even, almost emotionless, just like always. Anyone watching would not have noted any difference, though Kaitanu felt strangely light. The pale slave still didn't understand why the whole thing brought a warmth to his chest, but he'd also decided it didn't matter. Had he been on his own, the music that perched on his tongue would have come out. It would have been a more pleasant tune than usual, too.

Rather than give in to any musical flourishes Kaitanu went back to stand by the counter and waited there for Tim to return. Used to amusing himself, he stood very still and retreated into his own head, the waning sunlight warming his back through the windows. He replayed the last five or so minutes over and over again in his head, an unseen smile behind his mask of calm.

Unfortunately, the new and pleasant feelings were not meant to last, and Kaitanu's inner smile faltered after only a few moments. Being a horse kelvic, he was rather keen of hearing, and as it was a matter of survival he was always on alert. Even a heavy wooden door was not enough to block out all noise. From one of the back rooms he caught snatches of conversation, though mostly on Tim's side. He didn't need to hear Sander's half. Kaitanu recognized all too well the anguish in the boy's high voice; the trembling of one for whom the world had just tipped sideways. He'd been through it too many times himself not to know what that sound meant; another sale, another piece of living property bound for a different master. It was the terror of every slave, for no matter how bad their present position, chances were they would be sent to worse.

Ice filled Kaitanu's chest and limbs; the air was suddenly too thick to breathe. Though he was not the one being sold, the pale slave felt all the pain of it the moment he saw Tim emerge from the back room, ashen-faced and distant. Recent as he was to the trade, Tim must have known what was likely in store, though it was Kaitanu who best understood his future. Tim had not yet been broken; there was still some spirit in him, some fire. It couldn't last for long in such a world.

Tim may yet have felt the anger of the newly helpless, but for Kaitanu there was nothing left but resignation. What could he say of comfort or hope? There was none, not for their kind. Neither could anything be done to halt the will of those who had branded them. He'd learned that the hard way. Still, Kaitanu felt the sudden urge to do, or to say, something…anything. Unconsciously, his fingers closed around the bottle of varnish, but for several moments no word passed his pale lips.

When he did finally speak, it was in an even quieter voice than usual. "That will be all." Instead of leaving as he should have done, Kaitanu watched Tim for a moment, hovering on the edge of decision. Seeing the boy so crushed and doing such a poor job of hiding it, Kaitanu couldn't bring himself to just go. Useless as it ultimately was, Tim should know that someone cared.

Placing the varnish in his satchel, Kaitanu pulled out the half of his meal from before and placed it on the counter. "You will need that." he whispered, catching Tim's gaze. In the kelvic's wide blue eyes was both sorrow and empathy.

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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Timothy Mered on January 5th, 2015, 10:51 am

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30th of Fall 514Av


For the longest while, Timothy simple stared at the bundle of crumbs being offered to him. Slowly, he crawled out of the depths of his mind, shot Kaitanu a hazy look and then pushed the bundle back. “I don’t want it,” he muttered. For days he’d felt hungry. Not hungry enough to feel utterly drained, but enough to feel a steady ache in his belly. But with Sander’s news still ringing in his hears, food was the least of his concerns.

He expected Kaitanu to leave and never see him again. Slaves visited the shop often enough, but not every dynasty needed new furnishings every week and he doubted Kaitanu would return before Jed had inevitable sold him. But the noble slave remained, sympathy pouring out of his piercing blue eyes.

“Kai, I…” He glanced up, his voice broke. Within a tick he swerved around the counter and found himself clutching the pale slave’s frame for dear live. He cried without making a sound. Face buried within the folds of Kaitanu’s shirt, involuntary jolts bore testimony to his sorrow and for half a chime he produced no sound but ragged gasps for air and stifled sniffs.

“He’s going to sell me…” clipped nails dug even deeper into Kaitanu’s back. Once again he would be torn away from his only friend, he almost wished the lump in his throat wouldn’t break and that he would simply choke on it, then at least he wouldn’t have to lose people again, and again, and again. Bleary eyes gazed up at Kaitanu. The scent of sawdust mixed with sweat penetrated his nose, though he wasn’t sure who of them reeked the most, nor did he care. “I won’t see you again, will I? I don’t want to go away Kai, I want to stay here…with you, even if it means I’ll have to work here until I am old and hunched over, I don’t want to leave…”

Yet he knew Kaitanu couldn’t help the situation much either. Easing his embrace slightly, Timothy stepped back an inch and blinked uselessly at the ceiling. This wretched shop, the bare showroom with dull, unimaginative cabinets, stools, boxes and crates on display, he had accepted it all as his new home. Had he not proven to Jed that he was willing to work? Had he not obeyed his rules to the letter, ever since Jed had taken him to the Rujaro execution. Perhaps it would’ve been better to hang from a tree and dance in front of a baying crowd. But he had not the courage, and Kaitanu had given him hope. Hope of a friend, a companion to share his doubts and secrets with. There was so much he wanted to tell the Kelvic, but there was no time. “I promise,” he pulled back and clasped his hands in prayer, “I promise I won’t ever forget about you.” Cold fingers cupped themselves around Kaitanu’s hands. “Will you swear it with me? Pray to the gods and swear it upon your heart?”
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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Kaitanu on January 5th, 2015, 2:58 pm

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This time, Kaitanu saw the embrace from a mile off and so was more prepared, though this was no happy, affectionate hug. Tim's fingers dug into his back through his satin shirt, while his tears stained the material. Kaitanu only registered that fact because he would have to make sure those stains never showed; Master Edmund's personal slave could never be seen to be less than presentable. It was a sad reality of a slave's life that their thoughts could never be their own. Always they were aware of how everything would look to their masters, so what should have been a private moment was left bare to the men and women who owned them.

Technically slaves were not even allowed to admit unhappiness, or to comfort their fellows. It was seen as leading to discontent and rebellion; at least in Ravok it had been. If anyone else should see them like this it would bring swift reprisals. Kaitanu could feel the prickle of warning along his back; Jed or one of the others might come in at any moment and spot them. The old fear of pain rose up like a hard lump in his throat, nearly choking him with rising panic. If the kelvic had really cared about Tim he would advise him to stop crying at once and pretend all was well, saving both further trouble. It was a lesson he had learned after many hard years; anything other than fawning servitude was punished, and he had the scars to prove it.

However, Kaitanu couldn't bring himself to be so harsh, not with that trembling body clinging to him so desperately. Rather than push Tim away, he wrapped both arms around the boy and held him close, long, pale fingers threaded through Tim's dusty hair as he sobbed. Kaitanu hadn't known what to do until that instant, following a strange instinct that suddenly presented itself. He didn't know where it came from, yet it had felt vaguely familiar and, more to the point, it seemed to be what Tim needed at the moment. If anyone understood what he was feeling it would have been another slave, even one like Kaitanu, who had long ago been numbed. The pale slave was not yet so dead that Tim's despair didn't somehow reach him.

However, he said nothing in reply to Tim for a long time. Words seemed useless, even though the boy continued to whisper miserably to Kaitanu. His taller friend simply didn't know what to say in return, but held Tim in silence, rubbing his back and stroking his hair because he could think of no better way to help. There could be no lasting comfort for the poor boy, only a future of scars and being broken and beaten and starved. Kaitanu held him close because he could do nothing to shield Tim from what surely awaited, even if he wished he could. Though not tall himself, Tim's head barely came to his shoulder, and the boy's tear-stained face was buried against his chest. He was still just a child…

If Kaitanu had the ability for strong emotion anymore, he would have been filled with anger for Tim's sake at that thought. The kelvic slave was feeling more than usual, though in a muted way. He even experienced a little burst of warmth to hear that the boy wanted to stay where Kaitanu was. Tim seemed genuinely distressed at, not just leaving in general, but leaving the kelvic behind. That was a singular experience for Kaitanu, who could not remember having meant anything to anyone. Did he truly mean something to Tim? Only with that thought, looking down into wide, despairing eyes, did it sink in that Kaitanu would miss the boy in return. He'd never missed anyone that he could recall…but he couldn't remember much to begin with; just vague impressions and images. Forgetting was a matter of survival, even if it wasn't a matter of choice. Now Kaitanu wished his mind could work properly, if only to recall one person, and the feelings he'd felt in Tim's presence. He didn't want to go back to being blank in Tim's case, Kaitanu wanted to remember him.

As the boy pulled back, his taller companion watched him almost eagerly, as if trying to commit his looks and voice to some part of his mind that wasn't fractured. But Tim's promises to remember him brought Kaitanu sharply back to reality. Like so many other slaves, he would be made to forget, until any memory of kindness would seem like some distant night vision, unprofitable upon waking. For Kaitanu, there was little left but the knowledge of what had come before, returning in force at odd moments, then retreating like an indifferent tide. Even now he could only recall that he was from Ravok, that things were dark and dreadful, but no details, no clear faces. Every time he tried to open his mind to it, the pain and darkness were too great. If there was anyone there who had been like Tim he couldn't bring the memories back, no matter how hard he tried.

Kaitanu feared that things would be much the same now. It was easy enough for the boy to make promises because he didn't know what lay ahead; for Kaitanu, it was a great deal harder. Being a slave made him a liar every day, an actor on a stage his masters built. A slave said what was expected, not what was true. With Tim, he didn't want his words to be empty, to be just playing a part like always. He wanted to prepare the boy, somehow, for what was ahead, to tell him the hard truth so he would be ready.

However, looking into those wide green eyes, feeling warm hands pressed over his own, Kaitanu found himself unable to speak for a long while. How could he shatter what light was left? How could he tell the boy that they would forget one another because there was no other choice; that memories of loved ones were only for the free? How could he say that Tim's prayers were fruitless, that there were no gods, no kindness, no mercy in the world? Experience had taught Kaitanu the truth, but looking into those trusting eyes it died on his lips. Perhaps it was selfish, but he couldn't take this last moment of belief from the boy, his only friend.

Leaning in a bit closer, he nodded, keeping his hands very still between Tim's. "I swear, to any gods who are listening, I won't ever forget you, Timothy Mered. Let my heart remember you when all else fails." That was as close to a prayer as the kelvic slave had ever ventured. In his mind, no god-like beings existed, but perhaps it would work on his own heart. He hadn't been so desperate to remember something, or someone, in a long time.

After a long pause, Kaitanu slipped his hands from their gently trapped position, using his fingers to dry Tim's watery eyes. Prayers spoken to empty and unfeeling air would profit little, if anything, and he felt his duty to the boy lay in more practical terms. Even if he couldn't bring himself to completely disillusion his friend, he could dispense some hard-earned advice for survival.

"Do not let them see you cry." he whispered seriously. "Never let them see how you truly feel. Not even other slaves can be trusted; keep your true self here." A pale hand, the fingertips moist with tears, pressed over Tim's heart. "They will take everything they find, so hold your true self close. Remember, slaves have no thoughts or feelings, only what their master gives them. Show them only what they want to see, no matter what they do or say, and they will look no further."

Taking Tim's hands again and squeezing them briefly, he straightened and let his arms fall to his sides. But though his gaze flickered often to the other doors in the workshop, Kaitanu hesitated. They would likely never see one another again, so he was loathe to part from the only friend he knew. Quite apart from that, Kaitanu hated to leave Tim in his present state. Physically, he was unsure of how to further comfort the boy, so he stood there awkwardly, a deep frown on his face.

"Do you know when Master Jed plans to sell you?" the pale slave asked after a moment, his voice barely audible. There might be a chance for him to slip in before that happened, on the pretense of doing business.

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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Timothy Mered on February 10th, 2015, 1:07 pm

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I swear, to any gods who are listening, I won't ever forget you, Timothy Mered. Let my heart remember you when all else fails."

Timothy gave Kaitanu a watery smile. The pale slave’s hands were cold in his own and he would’ve believed him to be telling a gentle lie if not for the sweet sincerity in his voice. Once too often had a hand brought close to his face sought to inflict pain, and so he flinched as Kaitanu gently swiped his tears aside. Puffy red eyes remained and oncoming headache threatened to use his skull as an anvil.

Defenseless and hopelessly vulnerable, Timothy soaked up Kaitanu’s words. It went without saying that Kaitanu was the more experienced slave and understood fully well what awaited him. Matilla had whispered similar advice in his ears, though she had been less direct about it. Tears will spoil your soup, she’d once said, and he’d agreed for it had been quite watery enough. She hadn’t needed to remind him. Having never burst into tears around Jed was one of his major accomplishments. More than once had Jed given him cause to, but he’d managed to bottle it up.

And now, the simple prospect of leaving Kenash, something he’d always considered a joyful event, had lured all bitterness from its cage. He’d expected to laugh and dance at the notion of leaving these horrible, stuck-up, uppity, holier-than-though, pretentious cockroaches behind, but now that push came to shove, he thought much differently. Kaitanu’s advice could only diminish the gaping unknown so much.

“B-bu…” he stammered, “but you can be trusted, r- right?”

Words that had been meant to calm him down turned on him and incinerated his heart. If Kaitanu was right, if he could never ever trust anyone anymore, then he was truly all alone. No matter who his new master or mistress would be, no matter where he would go or who he would meet, if the pale slave spoke truthfully then there was no hope left.

“If,” he bit his lips till they turned white, trying desperately to control himself.

“If there’s no one out there who I c-can trust…” He shivered. His thoughts guided him to an inescapable conclusion, an usurping darkness that warranted no light, no escape, no hope. Just emptiness. “If I’ll always have to keep to myself…what’s the point in even staying alive?” Emerald marbles bore into the pale slave’s face, demanding an answer. “It’s just staying, it’s hopeless…”

A terrible weight crushed his spirits as soon as Kaitanu raised himself and turned to depart. He couldn’t blame the pale slave. That the young man was willing to risk his position just to stoop down and comfort him, or at least try to, spoke volumes.

“Do you know when Jed wi-“

Just at that moment the door to the workshop banged open. Timothy whirled around, expecting to see a very tall, very angry Jed. Oh how he would tear the skin from Master’s limbs if he even so much as lifted a finger against Kaitanu. He already regretted having involved the pale slave in his self-wallowing.

But it was not a red-faced Jed that came striding from the workshop.

“You two,” Sander glared accusingly at them, “really have no brains.”

Timothy was about to protest, but Sander raised his hand. “You’re lucky Jed is out. You know how he is.” Sander eyed Kaitanu for a second before striding towards the counter. “Well go on,” he snapped. “I’ll manage the shop, you two can conclude your farewells in the workshop. No prying eyes. Five chimes, no more.”

Sander had always been the quiet type, and when he spoke, Timothy had found him to be snappy and to the point. This time was no different, though it came as a surprise that Sander cared enough about his fate to grant him this opportunity.
Without delay, Timothy stepped into the workshop and motioned for Kaitanu to join him in the semi-dark. He had no idea what more he could say to the pale slave, but every chime in his presence was a precious gift.

Once Kaitanu would have joined him inside, Timothy would speak more openly than ever before. There was no point in being careful if you were to be sold anyway.

“We should just run away, Kaitanu. You and I…I can run pretty fast and I won’t get caught!” Perhaps it was childish to hope that Kaitanu would be so rash as to attempt an escape. But without hope, truly all would be lost.
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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Kaitanu on February 21st, 2015, 2:39 am

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OOC: And now I must apologize for my late response. My laptop kicked the bucket so I haven’t been able to be on. A thousand pardons!

Kaitanu didn’t answer the first question right away because he didn’t know the answer. Trust was something that came with having full control over one’s own actions. Was it possible that any slave, however well-meaning, could be trusted at all? Yet he cared for Tim, and would never see him again, so what did such nuances matter? Kaitanu would never have done ill by him in any case, not if he could help it.

“Where I can choose my actions, I can be trusted.” He said, adding, “And perhaps there will be others down the road whom you can trust.” Seeing the effect his words had on the boy made Kaitanu eager to qualify them, even if he didn’t quite believe it himself. Perhaps he wished beyond belief, if only for Tim’s sake.

Hearing the boy speak of death being preferable didn’t shock the pale slave so much as it should have. Such thoughts were all too common. In Tim’s case, the kelvic was torn, understanding the desire for release from pain. Was it not, after all, better for Tim to die before they had a chance to break him? Before worse men than Jed used him the way Kaitanu had been by former masters? He knew what lay in store for the boy, how Tim would become like the pale, empty kelvic, barely able to feel or recall what was not immediately before him. It would have been a last act of defiance to keep the power of self that was left. Many a slave had escaped that way, and who could blame them?

On the other hand, death was the end of all things, no matter what others claimed about afterlives and ghosts. Tim would be no different. Kaitanu was suddenly hit with the idea of such a brave heart no longer existing in the world. The thought of Tim’s light, snuffed out beyond recall, clutched at him like the talons of some cold beast, making him recoil from the idea even as part of his mind embraced it. This was the same inner battle he fought every day over his own fate. Foolish or not, the kelvic had always clung to life. Maybe there was some tiny spark of hope that kept him going, or it was all just plain stubbornness in the face of despair. Was it not the height of selfishness in the kelvic to wish for Tim’s life to be prolonged? Or was it worse to urge him into non-existence, not knowing what his future might be? Rare as it was, slaves could win their freedom, and Tim had the spirit to survive. If anyone could ascend it would be someone like the brave boy who stood before him.

Kaitanu’s mind vacillated back and forth between these two sides, unsure of what to say or do, when he was given an unexpected reprieve. Like Tim, he expected Jed to come through the door at the back of the shop, but all his efforts to appear unaffected as usual turned out to be unnecessary. The pale slave was surprised at Sander’s offer, but did not stop to wonder on it. Five chimes was not much time. Later, he would marvel at the other slave’s act of mercy, so rare in the kelvic’s experience. Sander would get into trouble if he was caught helping the other two. Whatever his reasons, that was his lookout. Tim was the most in need right now, and Kaitanu would willingly suffer punishment for these last moments.

With only a slight nod in Sander’s direction, the kelvic followed Tim into the workroom, shutting the door behind them. Dust floated in the air, and the smell of wood and paper and varnish filled his nostrils. In the shadows before him Tim stood, pale and terrified, but also looking desperately to the kelvic for any crumb of comfort. His voice trembled as he spoke the words so many before him had uttered. If he hoped for a favorable response, he would be disappointed, for they lit no fire in Kaitanu’s heart. Rather, he looked about him quickly, as though fearing to be heard, before his eyes fell back on the boy. A weary, almost sad expression settled over the pale slave’s features, and he shook his head.

“We cannot run fast enough, I am afraid, not from the powerful and well-fed. And where would we go that none would know us for what we are?” Briefly, he touched the Morealis brand on his right cheek. Under his clothing were hidden the marks of violence from a lifetime of servitude. “If you truly wish for death that is the surest way to bring it about.”

With a small breath, Kaitanu placed both hands on Tim’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes. For a few moments he was silent, and if he had believed in any gods, he would have been praying for the right thing to say. On the one hand was truth, on the other was the overwhelming need to comfort a friendless child. “There is no hope that way, not in running. And death... I do not know, but it seems to be bondage of a different kind. I do not think death is the answer you would truly seek. Perhaps you will find a better means of winning your freedom. Your heart still has fire left. If you keep that fire alive, maybe it will lead you to those you can trust. Perhaps someday I will see you a free man.”

Not knowing what made him say this, Kaitanu nevertheless couldn’t take it back. Therefore, he smiled at Tim, squeezing his shoulders gently.

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Last edited by Kaitanu on June 2nd, 2015, 8:32 am, edited 2 times in total.
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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Timothy Mered on May 20th, 2015, 3:33 am

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If it had been Kaitanu’s hope to keep Tim’s spirits high, he achieved the opposite. In that moment, he desired only one thing from the pale slave. It was not hugs, squeezes, or soothing words. He’d hoped Kaitanu would have nodded, taken his hand, and lead him far, far away from this wretched shop. The Kelvic’s answers were no surprise. Timothy trusted him without question. He had to trust someone, anyone. Even if Kaitanu would turn on him and repeat his traitorous mention of escape to Jed Radacke, Timothy would still forgive him.

”We cannot run fast enough”

The truth hurt far more than Jed’s iron fist ever had. Kaitanu’s smile and gentle squeeze were lost on him. None of it mattered anymore. There was no more hope. If his only friend and mentor saw no chance or hope shimmering on the horizon, all was truly lost. An invisible rope rested in his neck. The knot tightened and tightened, raking at his skin and burning his throat. In the end, he could no longer restrain himself. The unbearable rock that had plummeted into his stomach now rose past his adam’s apple. He tried to gulp the lump down, but to no avail. Again tears welled up in his eyes, but this time they were not the of the small fleeting sort any child would shed at scraping a knee.

These tears were fat and slow like slugs. These tears rendered Timothy’s vision null and he leaned heavily on the pale slave for support. Oh how he wished he could sink through the floor and disappear forever. There was nothing for him here. Nothing but work, harsh words, floggings, and an endless sea of other horrors he’d caught whispers of. Jed had been right all along. Kenash was his home now and he would be buried underneath this foreign soil, if he’d even be deemed worthy of that honor.

A thought bubbled up in the back of his mind. Like a tall shadow it grew and grew until it completely consumed his mind. There was only one solution, one option left. Within the chimes Sander had granted them, Timothy would exercise the last bit of freedom he had.

Sucking in a ragged breath, he pulled away from Kaitanu. He couldn’t choke out a single vowel, and so he slipped silently into the half-dark. Rummaging sounds echoed through the workshop as Timothy sifted through files, hammers, and saws with his bare hands until he found what he sought. Trembling, he returned to Kaitanu and pressed the wooden handle firmly into the pale slave’s hands. His own fingers, cold with fright, wrapped strongly around Kaitanu’s pale digits. Sharp like a dagger, Timothy guided the tip of the chisel against his chest, the shimmering steel pressing hungrily against his heart.

Fighting back another wave of scorching tears, Timothy mustered the will to speak again. “Y-y-you’re right. It’s hopeless.”

“Nothing matters anymore Kaitanu,” he pressed the tip closer to his chest, so close he could already feel the cold steel bite into his skin. His cheeks were so wet with tears that it appeared he’d just returned from his daily ablutions. He doubted there was much more water left in him.

“Please Kaitanu,” he begged. “If you won’t run with me, then at least have mercy on me. I want it to be you Kaitanu, I don’t want to give them the pleasure, I want your face to be the last thing I see.”

His fingers were almost as pale as Kaitanu’s as he squeezed the Kelvic’s hands around the chisel’s handle. “Please…”
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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Kaitanu on June 2nd, 2015, 1:11 am

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As far as he could remember, Kaitanu had never felt genuine pan for disappointing someone. Maybe he had but the memory was buried somewhere beyond recall, and the feeling was so raw and new that he winced. Seeing how Tim had taken his words was somehow worse than the lash. Beyond that was the too-familiar ache of watching all hope drain from Tim’s eyes. The boy had wished for death already, but then it had only been a whim of the moment. To Kaitanu’s horror he seemed to have latched onto that idea more firmly. The pale slave had seen others with a death-wish, and Tim was rapidly sinking into that dark mire. Kaitanu would have pulled him out at once if he knew how, but every effort seemed to go sour. All he could do for several moments was to hold Tim and offer his support.

If Kaitanu hoped that a good cry might calm his young friend into a more rational frame of mind he was sadly mistaken. That was, assuming he himself was being rational in the first place. As the other slave pressed the chisel into his pale fingers a strange familiarity rushed through Kaitanu like ice. Not knowing why that was, the feeling terrified him, though no more than the empty look in Tim’s eyes. His white hand, strong enough for the deed, remained frozen in place, neither executing nor pulling away. Even when Tim pulled the chisel closer Kaitanu didn’t move, simply staring down at the boy with eyes that could not cry.

Yet, still as he was in body, Kaitanu’s mind reeled with the choice before him. For someone unused to feeling anything, the raw emotion of Tim’s plea was agony. There was even an instant- gone almost as it came- that maybe death was the only way out. In the silence after Tim’s desperate pleading his own voice took over. They had both been given a rare reprieve, one that would never come their way again. In the morning Tim would vanish, and Kaitanu’s mind would shut down around his memory like a perverse wall of protection. Perhaps in death Kaitanu would be able to remember the one friend he’d ever had. If he pierced Tim’s heart, then his own, he could lay down beside the boy and Tim’s face would occupy his last moments. If there was anything beyond death, he might be able to carry that last moment with him forever. Wasn’t that a better choice than surviving for the sake of it? After all, what was he trying to prove by stubbornly clinging to a life filled with pain? They only had a few precious moments left, and they were slipping by like sand through an hourglass. Soon, it would be too late to act.

It was a testament to their friendship that Kaitanu even considered death at all, though the idea didn’t stick. He’d been down that road too often. Such thoughts were at once enemies and old friends to Kaitanu; he recoiled even as he fully sympathized with Tim’s reasoning. The pale slave had nothing beyond a formless hope to counteract the boy’s understandable wish. Yet, empty as his life was, the kelvic’s instincts for survival were too strong. Somehow he had weathered long years of unspeakable abuse until just belonging to a master who didn’t beat him regularly was an improvement worth keeping.

Or, more likely, it was fear of death itself, and the punishment that would fall on the kelvic for such an act. Tim didn’t really understand what he was asking, or the added misery he would leave behind when Kaitanu was discovered with his dead body. The kelvic shuddered at that. Even Sander merited a thought in his mind; the other slave would suffer for just leaving them alone. Not only would Tim be gone forever, gone beyond recall, but the slave who had executed him, and the one who had left them both alone… Kaitanu couldn’t think about that and keep what was left of his sanity.

Perhaps it was mercy to end Tim’s life, but the boy didn’t understand what he was asking. The pale slave did, and at last the chisel fell from his nerveless fingers as he stepped back, paler than ever.

“I cannot.” he whispered miserably. “I am sorry….but I cannot. You would be gone, gone forever, and I would be here…” Unable to explain himself, Kaitanu turned in the darkness and away from Tim’s pleading eyes. Shame rose up to choke him. “I am a coward.”

Maybe, in the end, that was his only reason for not acting. Until now it hadn’t mattered so much; Kaitanu was selfish out of necessity. Now, he earnestly wished he could be brave enough to bide the storm that would follow one merciful act. Even if he barely understood the concept of mercy something deep within the kelvic recognized that it was a concept as unique as it was amorphous, incredibly rare, and worth striving for. Mercy was something felt rather than named, and right now it was completely beyond his reach.

“I am sorry, Tim.” he repeated in a thick voice. “I cannot end your life." It was not in him to brave the consequences, or to snuff out the fire of such a heart.

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Last edited by Kaitanu on February 22nd, 2016, 5:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
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