Clove (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shenevermisses) wrote2013-04-07 07:31 pm
shenevermisses) wrote2013-04-07 07:31 pm
16th Throw - [ written / action ]
[Written:]
I want to work for the Malnosso. [It's written because she wants to say it, but she doesn't trust her voice.]
I want to be out of this enclosure, working for them. Especially on the battlefield. If they'd just let me, my knives are theirs.
I hate this waiting. Hate it. Sure, time to heal after the fight. Time to rest. But I know how this goes. How long it'll be before I have a knife in my hand for anything other than hunting. Before I get to really fight again.
I hate it.
Why can we just sign up? Go into battle and let that be that. Leave us there, provide supplies, die and come back again and again. I'm useful in a fight. Sitting around here? It's pointless.
[Action:
Clove hasn't spent much time at the apartment. She's been holed up at the camp she established when she first came.
Tonight, for the first time since she got back, there's a fire. Plenty of kindling and proper logs, but also... ball and oval-like bits of wood being thrown in.
All the carving she'd done when Cato had been worrying about her? It's all going into the fire now. Burning.
It was stupid to do it. To pretend she could have something other than battle. She knows now, better than she did before maybe-- that's all she's good for.]
I want to work for the Malnosso. [It's written because she wants to say it, but she doesn't trust her voice.]
I want to be out of this enclosure, working for them. Especially on the battlefield. If they'd just let me, my knives are theirs.
I hate this waiting. Hate it. Sure, time to heal after the fight. Time to rest. But I know how this goes. How long it'll be before I have a knife in my hand for anything other than hunting. Before I get to really fight again.
I hate it.
Why can we just sign up? Go into battle and let that be that. Leave us there, provide supplies, die and come back again and again. I'm useful in a fight. Sitting around here? It's pointless.
[Action:
Clove hasn't spent much time at the apartment. She's been holed up at the camp she established when she first came.
Tonight, for the first time since she got back, there's a fire. Plenty of kindling and proper logs, but also... ball and oval-like bits of wood being thrown in.
All the carving she'd done when Cato had been worrying about her? It's all going into the fire now. Burning.
It was stupid to do it. To pretend she could have something other than battle. She knows now, better than she did before maybe-- that's all she's good for.]
no subject
[Not a good thing, not a bad thing. She's not even really bothered by that. Of course, she hasn't forgotten his replies about killing people before the draft. He's another one who thinks there's something wrong with her. Like most of the rest. Another one she knows better than to trust. All good intentions... until they don't like how you're doing something.
She's better off without those allies. She's better off alone.]
no subject
[He's still questioning the madness of even talking to this girl. Then again...]
The last draft that happened. That wasn't your first I'm guessing.
no subject
[And she was good at them. Felt alive in the middle of battle and not like she was just scrambling for something to do and something to be.
Everything made sense when she was fighting.]
Now I'll have to wait awhile for another one.
no subject
[He's trying to keep his voice leveled here. She seemed confident when it came to this fighting stuff. Just hearing her just say it straight was something he knew he lacked. No decisiveness...no use. That was him.
But, the way she says it just felt like she's had more experience in fighting than just this Luceti stuff.
The next thing she says just makes him avert his gaze a little bit. Cross really can't get or understand what thrill there was in killing. But, what did he know? That Draft just broke everything he knew to be true. ]
If you want out of here more why not just go on missions?
no subject
The first draft I was on was to another enclosure. The cultists were there, but the inhabitants of that enclosure were... sick. Or something.
Basically? They were completely mindless except for being bloodthirsty. They got hold of someone? They turned that person into something like them. Surrounded by all sorts of people have moral crises about hurting someone who wasn't a cultist. And guess what? People on our side got hurt and killed by their allies because of it.
Me? I was willing to put down anyone sick. Kill 'em fast. Them? They didn't get anybody else after they messed with me.
no subject
Perhaps that was the logic to that madness that happened there. Cross can only feel an intense amount of relief knowing his first draft was nothing like that. It drips into his mind though, just thinking about innocent people becoming sick with that blood thirsty madness that they probably couldn't help.
It burns to even think about it. Her words do leave a mark with him on that.
People got hurt on their side because of their morality. He knew it wasn't bad to have morals and for the same fact it was wrong to kill. But, put into that situation...he could only imagine himself freezing up.
Her, however, she just apparently took them out. Clutching his side a bit he wonders how he would've reacted to this if he had been told before the last draft. Probably anger, maybe hatred. Now? It's uncertainty.]
Can't imagine doing that. At least for myself.
no subject
[It makes the world simple for her.
It doesn't help the hurt she's suffered lately. Because there's no way to pay it back or to make it go away. She just... has to wait for it to all go numb again. It'll happen.]
no subject
[At least, in his own perspective. He's never had to kill. Never even took a life. Self defence sure. But, this was something else entirely.
A previous conversation they had comes to his mind right now. He's not sure why he blocked it out or ignored it, in fact maybe it was just him being stupid. In any case, he decides to ask.]
You said awhile back that you...um...died back home, right?
Is that why you do this stuff?
no subject
It's why I volunteer for missions and work hard on the drafts. Because I want to make myself valuable to the Malnosso. So they'll keep me here if they figure out how to send us back.
[She shrugs a little, throwing a piece of poorly-carved wood into the fire.]
If you mean kill? No. I kill because I was trained to do it, and I'm good at it, and I like it.
no subject
[Perhaps that's just him...
Just the thought of the Malnosso doing that...he's not sure he likes the idea of them forcing the unwilling to go home.]
I hope they don't do that than. Force people back home I mean.
[Cross can only give her a confused look at the mention of her just being trained to do that stuff.]
...Why did people in your world teach you to do that?
no subject
[He'll call it barbaric. After he asks what that is. Once she tells him, he'll go on a moralistic tirade. He's the type. Just like the others who've been shocked and appalled. Who can't believe it happened in her world.
She hates all of them, especially right now, and this one... He's going to be one more like them. She knows it.]
no subject
Errrr, mind if I ask what that even is?
[Was it some kind of competition to see who could go the longest without eating? Then again, why would she need to learn how to fight and kill for it?]
no subject
[Simple, straight-forward. It's her life. What she knows.]
no subject
You go in their willingly and do it?
[He might've assumed that maybe she did just that, but who knows.]
no subject
[It's simple to her. Or... at least, it's simple as she'll explain it. None of the uncertainty or terror. To him, she will be a proper tribute.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject