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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 0:40:13 GMT
Dhaunmyr took a deep breath. He could do this. Kara could keep a secret, he felt like she could anyway. He had faith that she would. He was done not crying, he was finished getting angry. There was nothing left to bother him, he could speak freely. And he did, almost devoid of emotion unless he chose to lighten the tone with it, a kind of smile he hadn’t smiled in a long time.
“She was... a maid. She was when I met her, at least. She was beautiful and strong and she was different. We met at a party of sorts, although not like you’d associate with the word. A kind of place that certain social ranks of sisters were permitted to bring their brothers, and there, the sisters would mingle and make a kind of judgment on the boys. I got... lost. Somehow. Luck, maybe fate. Maybe it was Eilistraee giving me a push in the right direction, but a push I wasn’t supposed to get comfortable with. Or maybe the demon queen tried to grab me back, I really don’t know. But she was there. She was pushing a cart, I guess, it had glasses and things on it, I assume for the matron of the house. She was a fair lady, all things considered, and her workers, or at least that one in particular, they were fairer.
“I can’t remember why we were talking, but I know we shouldn’t have been. In the end, we were talking in the main hall. Even then, I saw my sisters pointing and hissing and shaking their heads. I should have been talking to the daughter of a high ranking priestess, or at the very least, a merchant’s daughter in our kind of income bracket. There wasn’t much they could do. I started sneaking out to see her. I didn’t trance, I barely studied. I had different priorities then. Now, all I do is math and sleeping. Real sleeping. It’s better. Anyway, she and I were close as anything. Soon enough, there really wasn’t anything my sisters could do. It was far, far too late to take anything back. It would have been scandalous, or, rather, more scandalous, to have an uncontrollable brother than a brother becoming the consort of a maid. A commoner.
“So, she got help from the matron of the house she was in to get into the priestesshood. Like, really into it. High ranks, big ceremonies, full on sacrifices. But she didn’t... something got to her. Something really awful and poisonous. And she... I haven’t seen her in so long, Kara. I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t know if I love her anymore. I don’t know if I ever loved her, or if I’d just never been around someone who was nice to me. I still can’t tell the difference.”
Dhaunmyr was careful. It was all vague, most of it was probably pretty obvious. Merchant family, shitty sisters, shittier woman, Underdark. Not too much about him, if he could help it, and no real details. It was too fuzzy for details.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 23, 2019 0:55:59 GMT
Kara listened, as solemn and attentive as she had been at every other point of this extremely strange day. She watched Dhaunmyr. If there were subtleties in the story that someone who knew something of the drow might have picked up on – Kara didn’t. She didn’t know much about them at all, other than legends about them stealing children, legends about them being ruled by women – a source of many jokes by men in Sundabar and also by women, although usually with a different tone – and some of what Dhaunmyr had confirmed, that they kept slaves and ate human flesh, at least some of them.
Kara nodded. It wasn’t such an unusual story – they had met, he had fallen in love, they had changed. She didn’t know if Dhaunmyr meant the something awful and poisonous literally or more metaphorically; either seemed possible.
“She hurt you?” Kara asked, softly. Her gaze dropped to his hands again, but she didn’t ask – not specifically.
Kara thought the drow sounded an awful lot like bullies; even what Dhaunmyr had said about his sisters made Kara angry on his behalf. It also explained – well – rather a lot. It explained, at least, a lot of the hiding in corners, the crouching, the flinching, the arm raised against her anger, the way he had seemed, at first, terrified of her. Did she remind him of a drow woman? It was a very unpleasant sort of self-image. Kara knew she scared people. She didn’t mean to; she never wanted to. Just – she did.
But, Kara told herself, if she scared Dhaunmyr, he wouldn’t have – he wouldn’t have wanted to be her friend. She pushed the self-doubt aside; it was selfish, to dwell on herself, when Dhaunmyr was talking.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 1:14:02 GMT
He was staring at them too, thick burn scars. He’d closed his hand like an idiot. Three times. When you check someone for sharp objects, you’re supposed to use the back of the hand, because instinct is to close the hand around it. Why the hell did he close his hand around... nevermind. She wasn’t anything important anymore, he reminded himself. Like ashes left behind. A pile of cinders, coal mostly burned up. Not quite. But maybe one day.
“It wasn’t anything unusual. I think you have to understand that she exhibited unusual behaviour before she joined the priestesshood, not after. Her being kind was the oddity. The Underdark is ruled by a sadistic demon who enjoys nothing more than sacrifice in her name, slaughter of families. She demands the sacrifice of children, specific ones, third son, things like that. And absolutely no one is safe from it. Everyone is completely brainwashed into it, from the day they are born, if they’re not killed immediately. That is why people don’t like the drow. It’s watered down up here because it’s worse than people can take. They don’t want to think about what’s really going on below their feet. Taking children? How about murdering entire families for sport? Legally, too, so long as no members survive. If you can think of something horrible to do to someone, it’s commonplace. And I hate them more than anybody.”
“You don’t want to hear about all this. It’s too much, I’m sorry.”
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 23, 2019 1:22:58 GMT
Kara’s eyes widened a little more as she listened. Dhaunmyr was right; she didn’t want to hear about it. Her face was a little pale beneath her tan, but she had set her teeth, gritting them together so hard her jaw ached and the pain lanced up into her skull. It was easier, now, well-fed and not feverish, then it had been at their not-very-pleasant breakfast.
Dhaunmyr was one of those who needed to speak of that. Kara would do her best to let him. She dropped her gaze, guiltily, when he said he would stop. It wasn’t fair to him; it was Kara’s own fault that it was hard for her to hear, not Dhaunmyr’s.
Maybe it was good for her, the reminder that there were many who had had it worse. Kara didn’t think of herself as the most in need of pity. If anything - she had survived. She was perhaps the least in need of pity of anyone from Sundabar because she was still breathing.
“I’m sorry,” Kara admitted. Her hands were tangled together in her lap and she fixed her gaze carefully on them. “It is - hard for me.” Her lips pressed together, a flat line in her small face.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 1:34:43 GMT
“Hey—“ Dhaunmyr placed a gentle hand on Kara’s arm. “That’s okay. Some people can listen to things better than others, and if I’m honest, I prefer it when I’m talking to you about things that are fun. I don’t know if you like listening to me ramble on about that, but I can guarantee you prefer it!” He laughed a little. He’d made everything crazy today.
But maybe that was something that came with being Dhaunmyr Vivacity. He thought he knew what that meant before. It was big and bold, long, trailing metaphors worthy of the stage, it was weird clothes and gaudy, attention grabbing jewellery. It was being excited, it was encouraging the same breathlessness in those around him. Maybe it was drinking too much, smoking bad things out of an expensive pipe and sleeping with every man in Waterdeep, too. But no one was completely perfect. Another minor flaw seemed to be making Kara’s day completely bizarre, and dragging her here, there, and everywhere just because... fun? Not quite.
“So, you seen any hot guys around here? You don’t have to include me I already know I’m at the top of your list.” He winked, then sighed. “I have seen. One. At least I’ve only ever seen one while I’m sober.”
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 23, 2019 1:41:51 GMT
Kara stiffened a little when Dhaunmyr touched her arm. Maybe it was slightly less than she’d stiffened or stilled in the past? Maybe – maybe – there was a tiny, microscopic increase in her comfort level? Maybe. She didn’t pull away, at least, or look angry or upset, so – that was something.
Dhaunmyr’s next question caught Kara entirely by surprise. She blinked at him, once, twice, and opened her mouth slightly, then promptly shut it again. After a moment, Kara managed a gesture that was somewhere between a shake of the head and a shrug. She swallowed, hard.
Eating. Eating was a thing that Kara could be doing. She reached down for the tray and pulled it up onto her lap, fiddling with the knife and fork, glancing awkwardly at Dhaunmyr, then back down at the food. Carefully, she cut off a bit of steak and ate it; it wasn’t as good as when it had been hot, but, honestly, Kara was pretty past caring about that kind of thing. It was still food – it was still a really nice cut of meat, the sort of cut that people chose deliberately rather than getting accidentally or because it was the cheapest one around – and Kara still thoroughly enjoyed it.
Also, she was pretty sure Dhaunmyr wouldn’t try to make her talk if her mouth was full. She cut off another piece of steak and paired it with potato and salad, hastily readying it so that she could avoid having too much time between mouthfuls in which he might try to ask other awkward questions.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 1:57:59 GMT
Dhaunmyr’s mouth flew wide open, and he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my gods, okay, who? Tell me. If you don’t tell me who I will literally pull your limbs off— who is it? Describe them! Please I’m dying.” He latched onto her reaction. And if she thought steak and potato could save her from Dhaunmyr’s demands, she was wrong. He wouldn’t stop until she fully explained herself.
“The one I saw was a really tall human, with dark brown skin and black hair, and his eyes were so dark and dreamy. But I wanna hear yours now.” Dhaunmyr being mistaken by Fae for fifteen instead of fifty was maybe not so ridiculous. He needed constant attention, he refused to work most of the time, and he spoke about some random pretty stranger with such enthusiasm.
“What were they, at least? Human? Dwarf? Oh! I don’t know... tiefling? Triton? Don’t break my heart and tell me you like fish guys.” He was back to his melodramatic self, hand plastered against his forehead while the other held his shirt over his chest, bunching up the material and squishing it in his fist. He’d hoped the change of subject would have pulled something more substantial out of Kara, but she seemed almost playful in return. Almost.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 23, 2019 2:14:14 GMT
Kara’s eyes went wide with panic at Dhaunmyr’s reaction. She set the fork down, now committed to the second bite of steak, chewing and swallowing the steak and potatoes and salad with her usual careful attention to food while Dhaunmyr chattered on.
“No,” Kara shook her head, finally, when she had finished enough to speak. “No, there isn’t – there wasn’t – anyone,” there was nothing at all playful about her tone; instead there was something sad and serious, like a little shutter closing behind her eyes. She couldn’t even bear to look at him; Kara had sat still and silent and unmoving throughout all of Dhaunmyr’s confessions and silences, and now she put the tray back down and got up off the bed, trembling, crossing the room towards the wall, hands locked together behind her back.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t even think of him. Kara squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold the thoughts back; if her mind was a series of rooms then she needed, desperately, to keep this one closed and locked, because if what was inside it spilled out – because –
Kara couldn’t think of him and also she couldn’t think of anything else. She took a deep breath, and went with that instead, forcing her mind into the blank stillness of meditation. Her shaking stopped, her shoulders stilling, her hands parting and coming loose. She focused on her breathing, deep, in and out, slow and steady. She would keep breathing, she wouldn't think of - him.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 9:32:06 GMT
“Hey Kara? I’m sorry, my darling. I thought you were having a little joke with it, perhaps I should have looked more closely. But I really couldn’t care less about your relationships unless you wanted me to, I just refer to the, uh, spotting of people. Can I help? Do you want a drink?” Kara needed questions to really give him any words in return, and she hadn’t told him not to speak, yet, so he felt inclined to try and smooth over what was really his fault for misreading the situation.
It was kind of ridiculous to spin into a conversation about attractive people, immediately after one about... yeah, stupid, stupid Dhaunmyr, at it again.
He hadn’t had such a violent reaction himself to just her, no, because mostly, he remembered the good parts, the ones where she wasn’t trying to cause him great deals of pain for the fun of it. She still let him do lots of things that were a little odd, maybe even punishable, depending on who you talked to. Dhaunmyr hadn’t changed much, in truth. There was very little about him that was new, just lots of old things had been dropped to allow the better parts to become caricatures of themselves. Maybe that was why he only really felt like changing his first name. Different background, different thing that shaped him past youth. He wished he could have fabricated more things. But that was it — if anyone came looking for him, he hadn’t really done anything to stop them finding him. Some self destructive part of him almost wanted to be found. Maybe he could live in the Underdark again, maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Or maybe it was. He didn’t know, he couldn’t remember. He suddenly wasn’t so sure about anything.
Except Kara. He knew he felt bad about that, and he knew he was going to try his best to fix that.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 23, 2019 13:13:19 GMT
Kara kept her gaze fixed firmly on the wall. She could hear Dhaunmyr’s chatter from behind her, but she let it wash over her without sinking in, leaving the faint impression of a tone of concern and apology, nothing more. She focused on deep breaths, slow and steady, counting the inhales and exhales.
It was a few long moments before Kara could be sure that the door was closed, her moment of weakness gone. She shuddered a little, slowly unclasping her hands from behind her back, and turned to look at the bed again, to look at Dhaunmyr again.
This was bad; she hadn’t come so close in a long time. Normally it was safely gone, locked away, not at all tempting to think on because she knew - Kara knew how bad it would be if she ever started. But... maybe it was the conversation with Dhaunmyr about his beloved, followed so quickly by the question about... whatever the reason, she had come far too close to going down that path. She couldn’t afford any more such mistakes.
He had asked - something. She was sure, but she couldn’t remember the questions; she didn’t think she had really heard them. Kara hesitated a moment, then mumbled, “I’m fine.” She kept her gaze on the carpet for a moment, but... she crossed back to the bed, slowly, nudging the tray out of the way with one foot - no more steak, as delicious as it was - and sitting on the edge of the bed once more, as if doing her best to pretend the last few minutes simply hadn’t happened.
Maybe they could go back to drawing. Funny, how much things changed; after all the emotions since the meals had come, Kara frankly longed for the comparative simplicity of failing to draw fruit. She wouldn’t press Dhaunmyr any more about his meal; Kara would think the issue over herself and decide what she meant to do about it.
“Can we -“ Kara didn’t finish the sentence aloud, but she did pick up the nearly forgotten board with paper and pencil, re-orienting it so her clumsy attempt at shapes was facing the right way once more.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 14:03:16 GMT
Dhaunmyr smiled, just slightly. He was glad that she had calmed down enough to come sit with him again, and even if she wasn’t completely ‘fine’, she was at least better than before.
Her want for simplicity was echoed in him. Seeing the board back in her hands made him smile more. “Of course.” He pushed his hair back, then fluffed out the usually slicked back side so he could fish around in his pocket for a tie or a few pins to push it all away from his face. He found both. “You’ve done really well with that so far, when you think you’re happy with it, I’ll show you some shading and markmaking techniques to add shadow and make them all stand out a bit more, but for a first proper go, you’re amazing. I knew you would be.” He said, encouragingly, but still gently.
It was easier for him to praise others. He actually enjoyed doing it, almost as much as he loved joking about them. No matter how quickly formed, his friendships with people were deeply felt. Kara was just as important to him as Faerveren or Brennip, who had essentially nursed him back to life after passing out in the middle of nowhere. Kara was no different. In fact, they’d even had a similar experience, him finding her in the dead of night. Of course, he’d do that for almost anyone, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was a little more than luck involved in their meeting.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 23, 2019 14:30:57 GMT
Kara glanced down at the paper on the board, at the lumpy, misshapen fruits and the odd way she’d drawn the bowl so that it seemed taller on one side than the other and also somehow flat. She looked at Dhaunmyr’s drawing, and let out a little sigh, then diligently went back to working at her own; there were still a few fruits whose shapes she hadn’t yet butchered. All her earlier shyness about touching pencil to paper seemed to have vanished; Kara was at least diligently applying herself to trying to make the right shapes.
Dhaunmyr’s compliments were met with a healthy skepticism; Kara looked at him and made a face. It wasn’t an angry face – it was – almost – playful. There was no smile, not exactly, but there was a suggestion of something… like she was trying to tease him.
“Can you teach me – faces?” Kara paused, looking down at her mess of a drawing. She had fallen over for years trying to learn to fight; she had lost nearly every training fight in her first three months in the guard. She had broken her arm in her first fight. Drawing would take time too. But – maybe – she held on to a soft, newly cherished hope. “Eventually?”
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 14:47:33 GMT
Dhaunmyr picked up his board again, and idly played at the forms in the bowl. He was far more interested in creating a suggestion of fruit than a picture perfect image. It was more fun, more rewarding, and didn’t pick up his perfectionism, because it was perfect as long as it was probably grapes, instead of exactly grapes. Or something like that.
Could he teach her faces? Of course. It was a natural thing to want to draw, in his opinion. Many people drew faces, children included. Children’s drawings were his favourite. They pulled at him in a certain way he couldn’t quite explain. The thought of children did the same. Maybe it wasn’t so much the drawings, then. But there was almost an eeriness, or a sense of mystery, about such drawings.
Either way, he nodded. “Of course, Kara. I would be more than happy to do so. Now, I’ve never taught anyone anything before, so you’ll have to forgive me if something is done incorrectly. Perhaps you’ll teach me how to teach when we train.” Dhaunmyr seemed at peace again. He could blot out before like it never happened and just move on. He was good at ignoring things, acting like they never even happened. Sometimes, things were so big he couldn’t just forget them, but he was sure he could do so with a little recounting. A little story telling. That would be forgotten.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 23, 2019 15:07:18 GMT
Kara shrugged. “I don’t know either,” she told Dhaunmyr, still focused mostly on her drawing.
Kara had never really taught anyone before – at least not anyone who was as much of a beginner as Dhaunmyr was. But she had been taught herself, rather than learning on her own, and she remembered her own first lessons, and had just – done her best. His punches had been better than she had feared, and he hadn’t hurt himself or anyone else, so Kara had considered the lessons a success.
Kara lowered her pencil, squinting at the fruit bowl and her drawing. Lines representing each different piece of fruit were, she thought, present on the paper. She glanced down at the drawing again, then back at Dhaunmyr. Was she satisfied? Kara looked back at the drawing again. Her hand itched to pick up the eraser and – try again. Carefully, she picked up the little white nub. She didn’t need to re-draw the whole thing, Kara decided. But… maybe… just a few lines?
Gently, she rubbed out one side of the bowl. She swallowed, a little, setting her pencil back down on the paper, then lifting it again. Then, decisively, Kara went for it, trying a new, slightly different line, where the old one had been. She was frowning a little again, although not a sad look so much as just a very serious, intent one.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 15:47:12 GMT
He smiled, watching her movements with the pencil. “It may help to try two or three lines, then remove the ones that look wrong. Here, like this.”
Dhaunmyr sketched three lines across the page to indicate the bowl, they were close together, crossing over entirely in places. He then went down with the eraser, with as much gentle and practiced grace as with the pencil. He erased parts of all the lines, leaving a thin, far more correct one in its place. “And if you can’t get it at all, just leave the few there. That way, the viewer picks which line they think looks most accurate, and their brain fills in the rest. There are so many approaches to this kind of thing! You can do big, angry, harsh strokes that dance and charge across the page, looping and spiralling to create energy and movement, perhaps it doesn’t pertain so well to the subject matter, but if I had the right magic, and I unfortunately don’t, perhaps it could be moving fruit. You could do gentle, still lines, a certain crisp fragility to those. Anything in between. A mix of both. Art is incredibly subjective.”
The dark elf explained with a kind of enamoured enjoyment, nodding, gesturing as he spoke. He usually waved his hands around a little, but he just seemed to fluff up and emit a kind of ironic sunshine. Art was a way of coping.
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