[Flashback] Spitfire attitude vs arrogance (solo)

[Rista]

67th of Winter 508 AV Darniva Commonrooms In the vast stone corridors there are plenty of places to hide, and to those that look for secluded places, even the most densely populated areas have several locations where normal people don't go. Especially not at night, when most would be asleep after a long day of hard work. As the winter reached it's peak and the days were confined to a few bells of light, it was only natural that the people of Wind Reach grew tense. There was still food to have but the harsh and plentiful snowfalls kept the Endals from going out to hunt and there was a sense of anxiety hovering in the air. The adults buried themselves in their work, the Dek were skittish since they almost always ended up as the source of stress-relief whenever anyone snapped, and everyone kept away from the Endals, who were restless, snappy and even harder to deal with than usual. The yasi too were worked hard, but instead of lashing out to the grown ups and risking the wrath of already skittish people falling over their heads, they turned on each other. And no one can be as cruel as a group of children with a set pecking order... The room was lit only by a few stumps of discarded candles and the shadows lay deep in the corners, dancing and swaying in pace with the flickering flames. Shadows thrown against the walls seemed huge and grotesque as they crept over uneven stone, became distorted and almost seemed to take on a life of their own. The sound of voices was hushed, muffled behind hands and spoken under breath, voices of young boys and girls who really should have been in bed by now. The chime was late, the Common rooms lay quiet and mostly uninhabited this far out, and they were all tired and too exalted over their own bravery to even consider going back to their rooms. Yasi of mixed ages surrounded her on all sides, mostly older ones at ages of thirteen or fourteen - with a few exceptions -, boys and girls who were soon to become adults, but still without the maturity or sense of respect that came with age. Wherever she looked she could only see red hair, blue or green eyes, pale skin and freckles over upturned, pimply noses. They were fearsome, imposing, they had all the power over their younger fellow yasi and when they wanted they could be vicious. This night, when the snow fell heavy in the night and filled the warrens with deep silence, their collected attention was focused on a small, wiry girl that stood in the center of their circle, her back straight and the dark hair with it's red streaks sprawling in an unkempt mass over her back. In honor of the occasion Rista had brushed it back from her face which it usually covered, for once daring to display her features that used to give her so much trouble. As always her face was bruised. Not even the dark coppery tone of her skin could hide the blackish mark on the cheek just beneath her left eye, and on the chin she had a few other, yellowing marks that hinted of older injuries. She had been fighting again; it was a common occurrence and no one was surprised. Whenever there was a disturbance within the Yasi group one could be sure to find Rista somewhere in the close proximity, either as the source of the fight or directly involved... The more time passed, the fewer kids there were to step out to help her; wizened from experience, they knew that they would only get their own share of the beatings if they bothered. It wasn't her bruised face that interested the kids at the moment though. It wasn't even her obstinate posture, with cut and scuffled hands placed on still undeveloped hips just over the worn, almost threadbare woolen bryda. Some of the older girls had a measure of pleased contempt in their gaze as they looked her over, noticing the still bare chest and the lack of waist.. She wasn't pretty, and no one would be interested in her in the way they found most important. No, the reason for their interest, and gradually increasing annoyance was a set of rings that were placed at the bottom of a very swollen lip, just below a proudly grinning mouth and brazen eyes that challenged every unspoken rule the yasi had ever lived by. She was younger than them, only eleven years, and yet she stood in front of them proudly displaying her piercings as if she had been in charge. Most of the kids her age wouldn't have been able to look up from the floor in the presence of even one of these teenagers, and here she was, the little half-breed mongrel who shouldn't have been allowed to be Yasi in the first place. It had always been beyond them why she hadn't been placed among the Dek from the beginning, to learn her place as someone inferior to them. Just looking at her strange eyes was to them proof of her alienation; so black, without a single shimmer of white and shining like the polished black glass that came from the depths of Mt Skyinarta and could be found all over the slopes along Sanikas Road. They could never look her in the eyes for a longer period of time without feeling a shiver go up their spine. What was she? Where did those eyes come from, that seemed to see right through them down to the very core of their young, insecure souls. "Well?" the girl demanded with triumphant tone that was slightly marred by the swelling of her lip. She spun round and round, shifting and strutting around the circle to let everyone see the rings, apparently unaffected by the hostile glares she received. Didn't she notice? Or was it that she just didn't care? "What do you think? I made them myself, both the rings and the holes. I was with the silversmith last bendi, and she said I could make them if I wanted to. She helped me of course, I think she thought that I would give them to someone.. Don't they suit me? I feel like an Endal now..." It was apparent that her pride and happiness was real, just like the awe-filled tone as she breathed the name of the upper caste. It only made the situation worse. Of course they all dreamed of becoming Endal, sitting by the tables laden with food at meals, flying freely over the sky on the magnificent eagles and bask in the glory and respect they would receive when they came back with meat to feed the entire settlement. They all dreamed of it, but how dared she mention the god-like Endals in the same breath as herself? It was obvious to all but herself it seemed, that she would never be one of those mighty hunters. She would be happy if she ended up Chiet, if even that. The drudge caste was really the only suitable option, but as long as she remained below them all... She raised thin eyebrows in a mildly inquiring way, apparently oblivious to the indignation and hostility that boiled beneath the blank, staring eyes. A stray gust of wind found its way in beneath the half collapsed door to the room and caused the candles to bow and tremble, as if they sensed what would come... One of the older boys pushed himself forward a few steps and separated himself from others. He was tall for being Inarta, appeared even taller still since he was only fourteen, but even though he was skinny and looked like he had gone without a meal for a week, with pale skin that was littered with zits and watery green eyes he remained the undisputed leader of the Yasi. With hands like shovels and a talent for archery and glassblowing acknowledged even by the artisans, few dared to oppose him and no one tried to take his place. It was rumored that he would be taken up among the Avora soon, that he had earned a place as apprentice even before his most recent birthday, but that the adults waited for him to finish growing... Tirran was a boy with respect, and the look he now gave Rista, the small, disheveled tomboy girl that barely reached him to the chest, was questioning, mild, almost kind as it took in the two hoops in her lip. "You made those?" he asked softly with a voice that even in that short sentence managed to pend between to octaves. He reached up a large hand and scratched a scrawny attempt to a goatee and raised a questioning eyebrow. "All by yourself? Why aren't you brave. Did it hurt?" The yasi in the group shifted and stirred, restless and annoyed by the tone he used. Why wasn't he pushing her back into her rightful place? The only reason why she was allowed to even be here was that she was an acknowledged brawler, she could and did put terror into the younger yasi by just being there. She had been mercifully granted a place at the bottom of their pecking order, but it didn't look like this impertinent girl understood her place. They had been wanting to show her that for some time now, and never had they been given a better reason... So why wasn't he doing anything? Rista beamed up at him and nodded, as if her pain would impress the boy even more. "I thought I was going to faint when I did the first one" she confessed happily and smiled widely - albeit slightly painfully - up towards the boy. "I had to wait a long time before I made the other one, and it hurt so much I almost cried.. But of course I didn't. Do you like them, Tirran?" She was so happy for the attention, so pleased with talking to the young boy she admired so much. She didn't hear the furious gasps from some of the older girls in the background, who each considered themselves as Tirran's partner. The lanky boy smiled mildly towards her and nodded with an honest impression. "I do, I actually do. But don't you think that they're a bit lacking? I think I know something that would make it look even better, something that would enhance your features..." He made a commanding gesture with one of his hands, and suddenly the group of yasi was grinning. Two large kids, a boy and a girl moved forward and quickly grabbed a hold of Rista, who stared at them with widening eyes. First now she seemed to grasp the mood of the crowd, and as she began to struggle to get free without the older yasi letting go one inch, her face paled and received a look of desperation. They forced her down on her knees and made her look up at Tirran with a painful grasp on her tousled hair. The tall ginger still smiled kindly and pulled up something from his pocket, a piece of metal with glass beads on each side, that looked very small between his large fingers.. "I made this little thing the other day" he explained and moved forward towards the girl, sounding like he was talking about the weather. "I wasn't sure what it was going to be for, but I think I've decided now. See, Rista? You can remove this bead here, and the edge is still pretty sharp.. You like piercings? I'll give you this one, on the condition that you don't scream. Whatever you do, don't scream..." The gentle smile sent shivers of horror down the little girls spine, and when she at the corner of her eyes saw someone hold a large, sharp needle over one of the candle flames she writhed even more in the hard grasp to try and get away. Their hands didn't budge though, and with her mouth pressed tightly together despite the pain the the newly made piercings she was forced to stare up at Tirran. He took over the needle that now glowed red from the heat and moved forward. Another gesture made the Yasi hold the girls head still, and with the same gentle smile the boy leaned down and brought the needle closer to face. "Don't scream, Rista" he hummed sweetly and lifted the red-hot edge towards her eyes. "I need you to prove just how brave you are. Shh, not a sound.." Her eyes were wide open in horror as she stared at the needle that inched closer to her eyes, but couldn't look away however much she wanted. She could feel the heat against her skin, and as the sharp, hot edge pressed into the skin and flesh at the base of her nose she shuddered, her entire body tensing. The smile on the kids face grew a tad more sinister as he pressed harder, forced the needle through layers of tissue... His hand wasn't really steady and it was hard to get a grasp on the warm needle, so he had to inch it back and forth through the flesh a bit, move the needle around so that the hole would become wide enough... The silence in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. The gathered yasi watched in fascinated horror as the scene played out in front of them. A few twisted uneasily, far from comfortable with the cruel treatment, others seemed to listen if she would actually make a sound or not. Her small body twitched and tensed, her throat working to try and produce sound, but they were all choked down before she managed to make any. Rista felt herself float on the edge of unconsciousness as the searing pain occupied all her senses, every small millimeter the needle moved felt like it took days and seasons. Her mind trembled and caved, wanted to give in and give up, but a hot, fierce sense of pride that was way bigger than her instinct for survival refused to give in. She couldn't care less about the silly trinket he had offered her. Tirran had insulted her and doubted her courage, and it was a blow she couldn't accept. She would prove him wrong even if she had to die for it... And with the way she fought against the pain she very well might have. Dark blotches appeared in front of her eyes as she forgot how to breathe, and she was barely even aware of it when the needle stopped to move. Blood trickled down the sides of her nose, on both sides now, wherever the heat of the needle hadn't been enough to cauterize the wound. It slipped into her eyes and made them water from the salt and caused red tears to slip from the corners of her eyes... She wasn't crying. She refused to cry, she wasn't crying. She wanted to retch when he slowly began to pull the needle back out and almost choked as the bile rose in her throat. The girl made a small coughing noise, managed to swallow and felt how stomach acid burned her throat and the back of her nose. She couldn't make a sound. She wasn't allowed to. She would prove him wrong. Tirran pulled the needle back out and stared down at the girl with a mixture of surprise and discontent. Ivak be damned, he hadn't expected that. She actually did it, managed to do as he said.. Whether it gave her honor or not was doubtful, but at least she was stubborn. But he knew that from before... "Well aren't you a good girl, to do as you're told" he cooed sweetly, knowing fully well that the insult would burn the kid more than the pain. "Like the good dog that you are, I will give you your reward. Why I had no idea that you were so eager to please me, little Rista. But next time, make sure that you ask me before you try to gain my favor... I'm not too fond of dogs, and no one would think twice about putting down an animal that is too bothersome." He smirked and glanced around the room, savored the stunned expressions of his followers. His power over them would only grow firmer from now on, at least until he was able to leave them... As if by an afterthought the pale-faced boy leaned down once again and took a rough grip around the nose of the girl, effectively cutting off her remaining supply of air. He met her gaze for a moment, pained black eyes filled with suffering and humiliation against cold green ones without the slightest shred of sympathy, and without any warning he pushed the sharp end of the small staff through the crudely made hole in her face. The girl cringed, Tirran hurried to fasten the loose bead and then stepped aside just in time to avoid the fountain of vomit that burst from the mouth of the girl. "Eww, disgusting" he frowned and backed away as if she'd been contagious, shaking the fingers he had been holding around her nose to get rid of imagined impurities. The other youngsters laughed as the two released the mongrel and watched her fall to the floor, retching helplessly as he body became unable to handle the pain any more. A sour stench spread in the room, the kids shifted and murmured to each other and watched the disgrace of the dark-skinned girl as she twitched, struggling to move away from the discarded contents of her stomach. "There, what do you say about that?" the leader said and waved a hand at her, unable to actually look at what he had caused. "Such is the courage of a dog, so weak she can't even handle that small amount of pain. I'd take back the piercing if I could, but I don't think I want something that has been touched by a half-breed. I'm kind, so I'll let her have it.." The boy turned away and was soon surrounded by admiring yasi, girls that nestled themselves into his arms and boys that more or less eagerly tried to pat him on the shoulder or make a comment about the event. No one seemed to look at the girl anymore, no one stopped to make sure that she was alright as they began to leave the room, one by on or two and two, to try and sneak back to their rooms without getting caught. Left in the growing darkness of the empty room as the candles went out one by one was Rista. After a while she somehow managed to stumble up on her feet, spitting and hissing to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth. Her stomach still felt upset and she ached all over from the hard hands that had been holding her down. But more than anything it was humiliation that made tears tainted with blood stream down her face and line her cheeks with red. She didn't ask why. They had told her why every day since she was born, from the time she and her twin had emerged from their mothers womb. After his death six years ago it had only gotten worse, and no matter what she did it was never enough to satisfy them. She had stopped trying. What was the point, when nothing she did was good enough? She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned away from the contents of her dinner. her body still shook now and then, spasmed as the pain slowly resided and left a sore, throbbing ache between her eyes. Kindness huh. If this was kindness, then she wanted nothing to do with it. She would rise above them all, have them bow their necks to her, and then she would return everything they had ever given her, time and again! The bloodstained mongrel wobbled unsteadily towards the door, only pausing to blow out the last remaining candle before she left. All the way back to the little cave-like room she got to call her own she conjured up horrible ways to get back at her tormentors, with all the zeal that only the losing part can have... But as she closed the door behind her in the safety of her room and sunk down on the blankets that covered her bunk, she couldn't keep up the facade anymore. The tears gradually increased until she had to bury her face in the pillow to muffle the sound; she cried, from loneliness and anger and pain, cried until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Because when it came down to it, there was nothing that could be done. She was only a filthy mongrel after all, unfit to be Endal and unskilled when it came to everything else. It was hopeless from the start, and her stubbornness to admit defeat only prolonged the suffering. The following day Rista was called to the youthmaster after breakfast and received the beating of a lifetime for the piercings she had made, all three of them. She gritted her teeth in silence and endured the injustice, without speaking a word about her disgrace.. Who knew. The adults probably felt the same way as their kids, or they should have noticed what was going on and done something about it. No, she was alone, and she swore that she would prove it to them all that she was just as good as them. If she was half in blood then she would be twice as stubborn, twice as fierce, twice the amount of all the things the Inarta people prided themselves over. She would show them, she really would. Even an ant can carry more than her weight, and Rista wasn't going to be a dog, wagging her tail and act grateful for the things she received. No, she would be an ant, endlessly collecting and piling skills and honor until they had no choice but to respect her. It was a vow she made to herself, and she would sooner go down than break it... She wasn't as weak as them.

[Mercury]

Rista Skill(s) Intimidation + 1 XP Lore(s) Winter Woes of Wind Reach The Yasiry: It's A Dog eat Dog World Foolish Hubris A Part of Two Worlds: Home in None "Don't Scream" Pain (Basic) Injustice (Basic) The Third Piercing Method to my Madness: Great storytelling; I can really see the care you took into research - something I severely approve of. But wow, that is a dark, dark Wind Reach you write of - scary business. No wonder Rista is so… angry. You can address any questions or concerns to the little voice in your head. A.K.A. PM me.