Where Curiosity Goes [Satu]

[Cayenne]

Who: Satu
When: Summer, 510 AV (day to be provided by Satu).
What: Teaching lessons and learning them.


"Let's go," Oni told Satu, having put herself between the Konti and the great Gates of the city once more. Before Oni had gotten there, the Myrians on watch duty had blocked her, Irritation, Contempt, and faint bits of Amusement tinging the other two more overwhelming emotions colouring and chilling Satu's HeartSense; these dark-skinned, painted people blocked her not only with their bodies and weapons, but with their emotions. Pleas and demands and orders fell on deaf ears. The tall Myrian never let Satu wander out on her own. The white kitten had no idea just how strong the jungle was, and what it did and could do to even those who grew up in it. Nature played for keeps, and whomever lost against it often found themselves before Lhex, or Myri if they were Myrian, to begin again.

But explaining that to a willful Konti who insisted the jungle called to her was an exercise in futility. Maybe it did. But as far as Oni was concerned, sending Satu out into it was a one-way ticket to Dira. Satu was less inclined to listen to the Myrian's logic, as Oni had tried again and again and again until she had finally lost patience with words and usually just dragged her off from the gates, kicking and screaming. "Go back in," she ordered the Konti as the rain poured down on them. The guards at the gate had blocked Satu from going out - the Jagged Blade had said that the suicidal girl wasn't to leave without her, and those orders had been well-received and definitely understood... especially the punishment failure to comply would garner.

Above them, the rain continued to steadily pour from the sky, as it had the day before, and the day before that, and likely would continue, as Oni had said it would. It was both insane and wondrous - such rain, such copious amounts of beautiful rain, soothing and overwhelming and adding to the song the jungle sang to her, an accompanying drumbeat that whipped her heart into a frenzy and rarely let it die down. The streets of Taloba were like rivers - not a single thing or person, besides those fuzzy little colourful balls of fur that a great deal of children carried around - was dry. It wasn't uncomfortable, really - it was a warm, cleansing rain. The jungle never seemed to get cold, not to the temperatures where Satu defined "cold". At night, it merely cooled down to more bearable temperatures. The Myrian, like everything else, was soaking wet - her leathers, as water-repellent as they were, were soaked, and her mohawk had far less height from the way it was braided down, though the crossed braids that intersected along the sides of her scalp held firm. Dark eyes blazed. "Now," Oni had one hand on her hip, her Authority coming to bear, just daring Satu to disobey.

[Satu]

The Konti hesitated, peering up at the guards on the wall, then back to Oni. The impressively tall Myrian stood between Satu and the City Gates. The Jungle was so close! Yet Oni refused to release her to the Wild, again! When Oni called to her, Satu fidgeted. The warrior had a way about her that garnered blind obedience. But Satu was like a skittish animal. Knowing she should obey, she stepped closer, then suddenly shied away. Compared to the Myrians, she was small, and now she appeared even more so, slightly crouched as she was. Satu held Oni’s eyes as she moved. She did not want to go back, for she lacked understanding of the dangers Oni tried to protect her from. Her gaze transformed into a glare as her eyes shifted to the gates once more. The Myrian was a harsh mistress, and Satu knew better than to disobey. But she could not yet control her Heart. Some days were better than others for the HeartSeer, and while the lucid days grew more numerous, this day was not one of them. Today she was wilful, and distracted. The rain’s symphony, while it soothed her, also whispered softly in her ear and made it harder to focus. And the guards’ Irritation and Contempt only fuelled the unease within her Heart and offered it no rest. She heard Oni order, “Go back in.” And when Oni added, “Now…” Satu’s body froze in fear. Some part of the Konti responded submissively to the natural tone of leadership in the Myrian’s Authority filled voice. A part of the HeartSeer wanted to be told what to do, to be guided, and led. But a small lucid part of her mind still feared the consequences of such a role. Instead of doing as she was told, she grumbled, pointing at the guards, and at the populace in the city behind her, “They do not listen! They do not understand, Oni! They do not see! Myri’s people…” She complained to the warrior, “they think they know, but they do not… I would show them!” A heat had built around her, and she needed to move. Satu thought she could make it to the gate, and beyond into leafy oblivion, but she had forgotten how long Oni’s reach was. Satu was too near the Jungle not to try.

[Cayenne]

“They know and understand far more than you do,” Oni told Satu, coming closer and closer yet. She could take the pale little kitten into the jungle and let her see just how dangerous it really was, something that would like as not end in her death. Satu was delirious - the Myrian had known that from the moment she had met her.

When Satu made her move for the jungle, Oni laughed. She might have been more disappointed if Satu hadn’t even tried. It showed that she at least had the guts to defy her fate. That may have been the part about her that interested Oni the most. Most simply broke down. Some tried to fight. Satu openly tried to defy her. It never worked, but she tried anyway. In some ways, it was as irritating as it was refreshing – Oni had worked hard to achieve the position of power she had. While she may have fought from time to time with underlings, they had more sense than to disobey a direct order. They understood the consequences of it. She lunged, grabbing Satu by the waist and lifting her like she weighed nothing, only to stick her over her shoulder, turning away from the wide open gate, the jungle beyond calling to Satu, begging for her to disappear into the humid depths.

“You need to understand something,” Oni told Satu, raising her voice to speak over the pouring rain, “we have lived here all our lives. We know the jungle. We are part of it. You are deyhan, an outsider. You are not one of us. Do not ever tell them they do not understand. It is you who does not understand, Satu. Your mouth will get you into trouble, and I may not always be around to stop them when they put their blades through your stomach.” She jostled Satu deliberately on her shoulder for emphasis. “Do you understand?” She was making her way towards the Training Yards, where they had been for the Rain Festival.

She would work off some of that energy. That would do the trick. “Do you have your pigstickers?”

[Satu]

Head down, the rain dripped from the Konti’s hair, running into her eyes and making it difficult to see. Restless and agitated, Satu needed to run and run, and run, but she could not! Captured, again! Oni had lifted her easily into the air while Satu’s kicking legs and flailing arms had been no use against the stronger woman. Like an animal caught, she fought as best she could. But once Oni had thrown her over her shoulder, Satu settled and allowed herself to carried, once it was obvious her thrashing would do no good. “No, Oni!” Satu yelled over the rain, “I must go back! You are going the wrong way!” The need swelled in Satu then, Anger and Rage and Confusion. The gate and the ever-calling jungle fell away behind them as she was carried humiliatingly away. Again! In this state, the Konti could not hear reason, or logic or any explanation, even though it had been uttered to protect her. Her pale skin stark against Oni’s darker frame, made her appear translucent in the falling rain and Satu did not notice the amused looks the pair received as they passed through the streets of Taloba. Deyhan, she heard more than once, and less seemly things of what should be done with her. “Let them try to hurt me! I am not Afraid! Let them come!” She had not the sense to be fearful. “I speak Truth Oni! You know this!” Cries and protests in vain, Oni took her where she wished, regardless of Satu’s protestations. She was like a wilful child, unable to see reason. And though the Konti quieted down physically, her mind plotted and planned for release. She could not rest! Or stop! Once she did, then… then, half remembered emotions and memories threatened her from deep within, it was too much, and daily the fragile HeartSeer was further inundated with the Aggressive tendencies of the Talobain residents. She could find no balance in the world. “My suvai?” She answered, trying to twist once more on Oni’s back, to see as they entered the Training Yard, “I would never, never leave them behind! Never!”

[Cayenne]

"You speak foolishness," Oni told her once they were in the muddy Training Yards. "You say we do not understand. we say you do not understand. Do you think they will not kill you when you challenge them? They would like nothing better, kitten." she set Satu down in the mud and rested a hand on her hip, looking down at the Konti. All around them, children of all ages fought, practiced, and wrestled. Here, these predators taught their young how to kill. They didn't practice with sticks, not once they seemed able to walk upright - they fought with actual blades, or heavy maces, or axes made of bone. They used bows and arrows at standing targets, they wrestled, they threw things. It was organized chaos, and the uncountable Hearts pushed at her in a way that was almost a balm - some of the littlest lacked the steady Aggression that came from their elders - even if they were bound and determined to learn it.

What surrounded her here was Joy, Trust, Anticipation, Awe. There was even a few faint hints of Fear from the littlest ones. There was some Disappointment and Shame, Elation and Excitement. As always, there was Curiosity. The Konti evoked Curiosity in Taloba, particular with those that weren't sure about her, or what she was doing there. It hadn't taken Satu long to realize that strangers in Taloba were few and far between.

"This is how they learn to survive in the jungle you crave. This is how you will learn, if you want it that badly." Oni eyed Satu's Suvai and pulled out her swords from the leather sheaths on her hips. "Practice with me." She struck up a defensive stance. "A lesson for you," she pointed one of the swords at Satu, "if you are fearless, you are powerful. When fear does not make you hesitate, then you have the power to react. Your fear controls you. It makes you weak."

[Satu]

Oni’s words and Oni’s commands caused the Konti’s aggravated mind to slow and listen. Only for this Myrian could Satu settle and calm the inner maelstrom. She was forced to turn a pale ear to hear, whether she wanted to or not. Kitten! Satu bristled at the pet name, but to these warriors she certainly looked like a small, white novelty. Children were all around her and Satu looked at them blankly from her place in the mud where it coated her feet black. Their Hearts…? She looked again, and her gaze rested on one and then another of the small beings. Try as she might to hold onto the Anger-filled thoughts, she was lost to the children’s emotions… Joy. Trust. Anticipation. Excitement. Slowly the HeartSeer’s face began to transform as the darker emotions were replaced. Satu’s breathing slowed. Had Oni known? A small part of her mind wondered if this was a trick. But she listened now, reasoning and lucidity flashing periodically in her gaze as she watched Oni. “Fear controls me no longer!” She yelled with feeling, losing herself for a moment, as Oni pulled out her swords. Satu’s mouth turned upwards as a small, knowing smile crept upon her face, she had seen them before. “Perhaps you will feel Fear soon,” she threatened, though it was unlikely; the HeartSeer had honestly never felt Fear come from this woman. Never once. “You will see, Oni. You will see...” And she pulled her dual suvai out from their sheaths strapped to her hips. The small, white weapons appeared even smaller when compared to her companions. The difference did not seem to bother the Konti, nor did she seem to notice. The suvai lifted in the beginning of a defensive stance. One leg slid behind her through the mud making a small trail, before it went out and to the side. Her arms holding the whale bones in front of her, crossed at the wrists as she held Oni’s gaze. “I will not hesitate to strike you. Know this Oni.” And she lowered into the stance, as her head dropped slightly to follow the Myrian’s feet with her soft eyes.

[Cayenne]

“But it does,” Oni, despite being much heavier than Satu spread her toes in the mud and made short work of the distance between them as she lunged. She moved lightly in it from decades of experience of fighting in it and learning her balance. The mud did a good job obscuring which way Oni was going to move, while at the same time seeming to limit her options. But rough conditions were something Myrians got used to and claimed as an advantage. Oni extended her first Tskanna-tusk blade, seeking immediately to put Satu on the defensive with her longer swords. With the other sword behind her, and Satu’s focus on her feet, Oni kept talking. Most Myrians didn’t chatter in a one-on-one fight with each other, as it was a waste of breath, but the Konti had found that her keeper was very good at using psychological intimidation. “I can see your hesitation. I can smell it,” the heavily-tattooed Myrian, her hair plastered to her skin, was almost as frightening to look at when her hair stood straight up in the mohawk. “I can taste it.”

If Satu was wondering where that second blade was – because her opponent was a capable fighter and while she probably could work Satu’s two suvai with her blade, she was like as not to use two to give Satu more of a workout – she soon found out. Oni had used it to scoop up a wad of mud and now flung it hard off of the blade at Satu’s face as the other sword came up from below, the tip going right for Satu’s tender belly and looking to catch her guts. “Fear is only in your mind. You can train your mind to control it.” Satu could tell her words were true – there was no Fear from Oni. There never was, despite Satu’s bravado. There was a deadly seriousness to this that reminded her that fighting to Myrians was not a game. “But fear not, kitten, I won’t hesitate to strike you either.”

Now that a daughter of the Jagged Blade and the pale Konti had engaged, children were beginning to ring them at a distance – Myrian fights could get broad and messy, and children learned early to give two adults proper room when they were sparring, and Curiosity and Excitement washed against Satu as the children called in that language she heard around her but had yet to understand, some of them cheering and whooping, the little ones who would be playing with soft dolls on Mura clutching weapons and releasing blood-chilling war whoops of their own in encouragement. Satu was different, and that made her a novelty to them to watch and see. Her blades, too, were rare. They were heard of, but rarely seen or used in Taloba. A few teachers had a pair that they used for teaching alone, to show and explain to the children, but now that a Konti was using them, they would see how well they worked. Despite this, there was no doubt that the children wanted to see her blood spilled, just to see what colour it was, and a fight was as good a way as any for them to find out.

[Satu]

Satu was not afraid of Oni, but she found that she deferred to her Myrian keeper time and again. The Konti could not have said why she allowed it, or how Oni managed to so effortlessly gain control over her. It was not that Oni was older, for their ages were very close. And it wasn’t simply that the Myrian was larger and had more fighting experience. There was more. Satu’s entire being sensed Oni was an Alpha, and the Konti reacted to it. As the warrior came towards her, Satu unconsciously gave ground, she had no choice. It was an instinctual response. The suvai fighter’s feet slipped swiftly back, her senses alert. She was not afraid in the normal sense, but she knew she was overmatched in every way. Oni held strength, not only in body but of mind also, and Satu’s unbalanced thoughts kept her a step behind the Myrian, but that did not mean Satu would easily give in, or even cease fighting. She said nothing, only her eyes glowed as Satu began the effort of trying to prove herself to Oni, and the subtle extensions of her hands, the twin suvai began to twirl, whirling with their own small danger. But before she could act, mud flew into her face from Oni’s blade. Momentarily blinded the Konti lifted an arm to smear the muck away. It left a dark trail around her eyes, Satu had been trained to spar in water, to move with the flow of tides and the caress of Laviku’s world on her scale but now she was blinded. And mud was not water; she could not flow so easily in it. It grabbed at her delicate toes, turning them black. It was not the Konti’s way to wallow in ground such as this… But Oni charged and Satu tried to hold her ground once more. She waited until the last possible moment before Oni’s blades reached her, and she tried to spin away like water flowing around obstacles. Her suvai lunged out as she moved, her arms moving separately in the dual wield.

[Cayenne]

The difference between Oni and Satu had to do with their upbringing. It wasn’t just in the Myrian’s superior strength and size. That was only a small part of it. Satu’s Kontinese upbringing, the soft, gentle way of life on the White Isle was as far as one could get from this rough mess that was Taloba. Oni knew that she could best Satu. She knew it from the moment she had met her, and nothing had changed since then. She knew that she was a force to be reckoned with. She was a Myrian. Her oldest sister was the youngest War Mistress chosen in generations. She, herself, was thrice-marked before the age of thirty. Her entire philosophy resolved around serving the Goddess-Queen and her people, something she would do unto death and beyond.

It all came down to confidence. In her right mind, Satu might have had an even harder time dealing with the Myrian than she already did – had she been coherent, had this been before her ordeal in Opportunity, she might have already have expired by now. But Oni had been taught from the moment she could walk that she was going to have to fight. Oni’s older sister, Misha, had routinely beat her up almost from the time she could walk. And dealing with that sort of adversary on a daily basis – their parents certainly weren’t going to intervene – toughened you up. While it was true that what didn’t kill you only delayed the inevitable, what didn’t kill you also made you stronger for it. Oni had gotten used to expecting to be thrown around the training yards and around the house. But where any other race might have just gave up or tried to get away from it, Oni fought back. She fought back because that was what was expected of her. She loved her sister like she loved the rest of her family, and she respected her for her strength and abilities. But that didn’t mean she didn’t relish kicking her ass too.

“Lesson one. Know what you are fighting in,” the Myrian told her as Satu tried to move backwards, repeating herself for the benefit of the little ones in that strange tongue of theirs. The mud was thick and goopy and difficult – it clung to her feet, even as the rain poured down from overhead. This was no gentle shower; this was a torrential downpour that made movement even slower as rain stung her exposed skin like hot needles. In the movement that had to be wasted at wiping away the mud from her face, Oni’s blade made a shallow cut on the outside of Satu’s upper thigh, deliberately slicing the cloth. Shouts went up from the children, accompanied by cheers as the rain washed away the spatters of mud, revealing the red cut against white flesh.

“Lesson two,” Oni’s Tskanna-tusk blade came up to meet the twirling whalebone and the force of the blow almost knocked the suvai out of Satu’s hand, “if you do not wish to bleed, learn to avoid the blades.” Despite the calmness of her words, she looked as savage as the rest of them with the way the rain plastered her hair to her head and dripped off of her dark skin. Her exposed arms were tattooed and heavily scarred. She had years of experience in the mud, and knew how to handle it and make things worse for the Konti. She forced Satu to keep trying to move to try to keep her off guard. With her longer blades and arms, she had the requisite ability to keep Satu at a distance and still do damage to her. She made a direct stab for Satu's midsection, like she was going to gut the little white Kitten as the other sword went for her second suvai to keep it busy.

[Satu]

Lesson one was painful! Satu cried out at the blade’s slice to her thigh, as the fabric fell loosely from where it clung to her leg. Oni had cut her and it simultaneously. The children cheered, distracting the HeartSeer with their lively, chaotic and joyous emotions, which were so different from the Myrian warrior’s Heart which was solid and compelling. Each pulled her awareness in different directions, and paranoid as she was, she glared, knowing that they tried to confuse her. Lesson two was brutal in its force, but it brought Satu’s focus back to the fight at hand, as it almost caused Satu to drop one of her precious suvai. She was too close to the Myrian’s long reach! The Konti had been trained to fight differently, to lead out from the established stances she had been taught. It was a more civilized fighting style that the Konti women used, but there was nothing civilized about the brutality that Oni attacked her with. The warrior did not allow her to settle into any stance or form. Always Oni was at her, with her constant movements and aggressive attacks. Satu saw it then... Other people had always been at her! And they tried to take and take, and take from her! No more! No more would she allow it! The need for change filled her mind, and with it, she saw the errors within the Konti teachings and their subsequent failings. If it took a Myrian to teach her properly, so be it. Her mud streaked eyes sparkled with inspired resolve. This fierce, braided creature would burn secrets into soul. And never would the Konti forget her lessons. Her thigh hurt, and Satu ignored it, though blood dripped down her leg only to be washed clean by the pounding rain. Sucking in her abdomen, at Oni’s next attack, Satu jumped back. A fraction too slow, the weapon nicked her skin, but as she whirled to the side, it caused the blade to drag along her skin, leaving a fine red line along her stomach to curvy hip. The girl’s free arm lifted to hold off Oni’s other attack. The children erupted in cheers at the Konti’s misfortune, to see the deyhan bleed. Still Oni was there! But her wild mind had found a new drive, and new purpose, and Satu moved as swiftly as the shifting mud allowed. Purposefully she tried to find solid ground, or at least a less muddy foundation. Her Heart burned from the touch of Oni’s Power upon her Heart. The rain beat down. The need to prove herself became paramount, and she let her mind run free as she moved, to think, to calculate, to feel. Smart! She had to be smart …and fast. And again she found her stance, but his time there was no stopping within it. The subtle movement of balance and danger of the dance touched the form of her body. The connection with the stance was brief and fleeting, but it brought her back to find herself within the movements. Satu acknowledged then Oni’s superior reach with the hurtful weapons, and the woman’s greater stability with her heavier weight in the mud, with the slightest of nods. And she danced in relation to where the Myrian moved, waiting for her to come near so she could get inside her guard. But Satu was willing to gamble, in her mind, she had nothing to loose, she was outmatched and she needed to strike when Oni least expected it. So she waited… waited for an opportunity to present itself.