Closed Why can't you just be normal?(Mitt)

[Taln]

54 Fall 522 Taln sat cross-legged in the sand, leaning his back against the Foundry forge as the afternoon downpour hissed around him like soft whispering voices. Unlike most normal people, it didn't occur to him to mind that it was raining or that he might seek shelter. It was just a natural thing that happened, so he accepted it as it was. The resultant rising cloud of steam nearly obscured the tall redhead from sight in the mix of intense heat and water. At least back in Wind Reach, there were many others who came from the same upbringing and caste that could easily relate to him. Here, he hadn't met anyone with even a passing similarity to compare himself to or with. But then, he didn't really know anyone here all that well. Was he truly homesick? He would still vehemently defend Wind Reach to anyone, anywhere and anytime, but it wasn't a place he could go back to. Realistically, the closest thing he had to a.. well loosely defined, friend, was that kid Mitt. Which was beyond ridiculous. The tall redhead snorted at his own thoughts on that. Maybe he was being too hard on him? Idly, his mind drifted back to that night with Drusilla and his own words echoed mockingly right back at him. He remembered his own outspoken fervor at that age, "That's exactly what I'd do if I had your caste. Help others be their best." Taln was now as far outside of that caste system as anyone could ever dare hope to reach. The kid was floundering almost as much as he himself was and maybe that was why he kept talking to the jerk. "Hey village idiot, the rest of us have the sense to come in out of the rain." Mitt called out from inside the Foundry. He was tacking down the panel sides to the tent stakes and motioned for Taln to join him. "Your people skills really suck." "Yea and you're a model of high society propriety! Act like a normal human being for once." Passing by the man as he left, Taln thanked Arty for the use of the boots and reminded himself to go and buy some already. The young smith brushed out his work station, his work gear and set them back neatly to hang by the door. He sat on his work chair and turned to watch Taln standing in the doorway, dripping silently. "Man you really need to start acting like a normal human being okay?" Mitt told him in a serious voice. The ginger looked at him with yellow eyes, knowing that the kid had no idea how exactly on the mark that comment actually was. 'You try living and dying in as many forms for as many eons as I have and -then- we'll talk about suddenly now acting like a human.' Taln thought a little resentfully, standing by the entrance, both mute and still. "You can sit on the welding table-it's empty right now. Or Artik's chair." he motioned. "Might as well stay in here until the rain passes." He shrugged and lifted himself onto the solid iron table, shifting backwards a bit to have his back to the tent panel, facing Mitt. Taln pinned the kid with a fiery gaze and asked him directly, "Why do you feel the need to call me idiot, stupid and freak in every single conversation we've ever had? Are those some of the same insults that people have used on you?" The tawny haired young man blinked at the comment and looked distinctly uncomfortable. He shifted his eyes to his hands and agreed, his ears burning redly. "And why do you think Inartan people are disgusting?" "I don't-- not anymore.." he finished the last half quietly. Taln nodded, glad that these issues were answered at last. Looking like he'd finally made a decision, he stated firmly, "In that case, I'll tell you a bit more about Wind Reach and why I'm having trouble right now acting like a normal human being, as you so nicely put it. But in return, I want to know why -you- don't act like a decent human being either." And sure enough, the kid's eye lit up at the idea of solving a mystery, regardless of any personal cost to the speaker, as long as he got his 'solution.' Were all Sunberthers that selfish or was Mitt just an anomaly? Taln knew he was a fair representation of his place back home, but how much was Mitt's role in his city? Taln crossed his legs beneath him and slowly rolled his neck to crack it, trying to loosen himself up for an unpleasant and probably very long talk. Where to begin? He'd been so vague at that lunch before because the food was far more interesting. Okay. He could do this. "Wind Reach has, had a caste system to help us know what we needed to do, to give us each a clear purpose to avoid uncertainty. Each caste was given by individual merit, not birth status. Endals were like the fearless- and fiercest- of parents. They had bonds with those beautiful and noble Wind Eagles. The Endals were the strongest and smartest that would provide the most food and hunting skills to give -everyone- in the community. They would never dream of taking any for themselves before they fed the rest of us. Fearless strong leaders, every last one of them." 'And behind closed doors, many of them were the most savage and cruelest creatures on the planet.' he finished in his thoughts. WC 936

[Mittle]

Mitt sighed heavily at seeing Taln just sitting out in the rain, clearly lacking the not so common sense to come in out of the inclement weather. It was like half the time the guy was giving orders with the authority of a ship's captain and the other half, he waited for normal things like sitting down or walking into a room. It made zero sense at all. How could someone be so dogmatic and subservient at the same gods damn time?!

He yelled out the door to tell him to get in out of the rain since he didn't quite get the concept on his own. Out of mindless habit, he set the Foundry back to rights, putting everything exactly back where it belonged and cleaning his gear to put it up on the wall. Their repartee was getting meaner and he wasn't sure he liked it. There was an ugly edge to it that made him feel like he was back in Sunberth. Was he really being that much of an ass?

The young smith just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as the dimwit just stood there dripping instead of sitting down somewhere and insulting him back. Why can't he just act like a normal human being?

Was Taln merely being polite or stupid at blatantly waiting for him to tell to sit somewhere?

Mitt was glad he was sitting down when Taln smacked him upside the head with those questions. Was that really what it was? He'd been called those names since he was twelve and maybe that -was- why he'd said them to Taln. But to be fair, the guy didn't act... normal!

After that talk about magic, he wasn't sure about the genetics anymore so at least he could be honest about it, if deeply embarrassed.

Wait what?! Had the ginger not mentioned anything about his past because he thought Mitt was disgusted? Dammit! He could've had those answers before now! Either way, he was in for a gold mine of information--at least he hoped that was the case. He wasn't gonna take any more of those vague comments. Mitt was ready to get in some solid questions which had been piling up for days.

His eyes went to a wide round blue of keen interest and that made some more sense.

"So you were an Endal then?" Mitt asserted confidently. "Is that why you're such a bossy, commanding dick?! Like telling me 'Hold' like you're some kinda high and mighty royalty?"

The redhead's eyebrows shot up so high in surprise, they almost hit his hairline. Taln laughed so hard, he choked and put down a large hand on the table to try and catch his breath. And then he laughed even harder, clutching his stomach and bending forward.

Mitt sat up and stared at the guy. So that was him laughing for real. It was strange because he looked .. different somehow. Now he didn't look so rigidly on guard, that was it!

Taln stuttered, snickered and laughed some more while workng to get out the words "Hells no!"
He wiped the tears from his eyes at laughing so hard and he finally exhaled to calm down but then another series of chuckles kept erupting from his mouth as the redhead tried, failed and tried again to regain control.

The tawny haired young man just kept staring because he hadn't heard or seen the redhead behave so regular? approachable? normal?

"But you said fiercest and strongest leaders. Your pissy temper seems more than fierce enough to me." He commented, not sure why the guy was laughing so hard. Taln looked as strong and as large as anyone else here. His direct questions and commands definitely seemed like the entuls? indolls? that he had clearly described.

"Wouldn't undals be doing and saying whatever the hells they want to? Aren't they the bosses? You've acted exactly like that with me. And Stoker."


WC 657

[Taln]

Laughter that nearly bordered on hysteria overcame him and every time that he tried to stop another small sound burst forth. After ten chimes, he finally sat back up again, finding it strange that his face actually hurt from laughing. That hadn't ever happened in his entire lives! Never like that! Taln exhaled noisily and finally looked over at Mitt and his series of questions. "Thanks, I've never laughed like that in my life. Is it normal to laugh so hard it hurts your face?" Mitt nodded impatiently, not taking his question seriously. "Endals." Taln automatically corrected. "Yea I guess was a little um.. overbearing with you. But you are younger than me and I don't think I did it on purpose. Sometimes when I really want to make a point or get frustrated, then 'it' comes over me, I guess. It's hard to explain." The tawny haired young man put up an index finger and hand, about to protest and Taln waved him back down. "See? That right there." Mitt exclaimed. "And back at the bar that night when you were a hard ass and totally bossy. And for reasons known only to Izurdin, I actually did what you ordered." "Ok first of all, it is hard to explain. But I'll try. I've always been opinionated and quick tempered--exactly like every other Inarta that ever has and ever will exist. It's a racial trait. The other half of the explanation is the gnosis marks and that it's part of their blessings that brings out the real me, behind the fear or doubts." "But you really were a high handed dick to me. Ya still are." "Then don't act the way you do." He raised an eyebrow at Mitt and looked at him with a smirk. "No, Endals can't do what ever they want." Taln said firmly. 'In public,' he finished the thought. "They're expected to be a leader at all times and make quick but good decisions when tragedy strikes. To take control in all emergencies and delegate responsibilities to the appropriate people. They're not allowed to make mistakes, Mitt. Ever. They must have that confident leadership ability and know what to do when something suddenly occurs while others panic. Inarta look to them first so they must always shoulder the responsibility to provide for and take charge of every other Inarta. All of them, no matter what. It's deadly serious Mitt." The young blacksmith noticed Taln evaded why he wasn't an Endal and became insistent. "So why aren't you one?" "Later." he instantly responded. The tawny haired man looked rebelliously irritated. Taln replied firmly with his molten eyes flaring bright and hard. "That part comes later. I'm explaining things in order. You will be patient, or I won't answer another word. Are we clear?" Mitt nodded and he finally relented. However, there was no denying that his curiosity was even more piqued. "Next caste is Avora which is what you would probably end up as with later giving at least another half a decade of blacksmithing under your belt. People who are creative in needed skills are usually put there. Weavers, glass makers, hunters, fletchers and things like that. Necessary items are highly valued but only after food. They have a unique mindset that blends necessities and hard work in a creative way to bring out the best." Mitt sat up from his usual slouch, looking very pleased at the flattering comparison. "Then there's the Chiet caste and that's where you would be placed right now on the hypothetical that someone like you would even be allowed entry. Which I don't think you would be-" WC 607 Total WC 1,543

[Mittle]

"Coz of the whole red hair 'outsider' thing right?" Mitt interrupted rudely in his usual impatient and dismissive fashion. "Yeah you mentioned that at lunch already."

"See that right there. It's rude to interrupt when others are speaking unless it's urgent. You have zero impulse control."

"Fine. Whatever." He huffed.

"I just barely said under five chimes ago 'I'm explaining things in order. You will be patient, or I won't answer another word. Are we clear?' Apparently I wasn't clear to you. You made your choice so now we're done."

The lean guy's eyes flared brightly and Mitt wasn't sure if he felt more embarrassed or annoyed. At himself. But when he finally looked back over to Taln, he seemed kinda.. relieved. Wait was this like the Watchers thing? Did he stop the entire conversation with one comment and he'd get nothing else from it now?

Before Mitt could have a chance to react, Taln was off the table, out the door and walking down the beach with huge strides, stalking away like a jungle cat.

It was an hour before sunset and Stoker was ready to meet his human for some fun. But that strange smelling two legged looked like he was chasing down prey. With zero impulse control, he raced behind the redhead, following and watching him intently.

An empty rock outcropping loomed up and two abrupt bright flares streaked toward the rocks. Stoker thrust his tail down, crouched and leaped eleven feet onto the rocks, snapping at the bright lights as fast as he could. Three small quick bursts of flame went for three different spots and the young Ixam caught one with a snapping mouth, one with an extended paw and the third with a lightning fast whip of his long tail. He turned to face Taln, his mouth open in a big Ixam smile, obviously waiting for more play.

Mitt tried to catch up with Taln but he'd had a good head start and a temper to speed him on his way. The tawny haired young man watched as the ginger started flinging fire at some rocks--and Stoker was chasing them! Like a cat playing with a light, the agile reptile hopped, snapped, bounced and lashed his tail back and forth, ready to pounce on more!

A long thin tendril of flame hovered in the air about ten feet off the ground and at least ten feet away from the rocks that the Ixam was perched on. The long slim light hovered briefly in one spot, but the moment Stoker dove for it, it moved back and forth between the rocks and the sand twice more. The reptile stopped and just watched it with scarlet eyes and crouched on the rocks with his tail lashing back and forth, unable to hold still.

The flicker was too fast to catch and the Ixam ran in ever increasingly tight circles. After a full ten chime chase, Stoker sprawled out on the sand very relaxed, now ignoring the flames and panted, looking very content.

Mitt stood there looking between the reptile and the redhead crouched by the incoming tide. His mouth moved but Mitt couldn't hear him from the hundred paces away. He stomped closer, demanding answers but kept an eye on the resting Ixam too.

"What did you say?"

Taln repeated in his thoughts, refusing to speak to him.
'I said, like Ixam, like human. Zero impulse control and no manners in sight. Just blindly chase whatever happens to be right in front of your nose at the chime. Then instantly dismiss it the moment you lose interest, never looking or caring about the source or meaning of it.' The tall redhead rose to his full height and turned away slowly, letting his feet chase the tide as he walked away in silence.

Mitt looked angrily at Taln and started to check over his hatchling.
"You didn't overdo it did ya?" he asked worriedly. Mitt checked him over for any swelling, heat or soreness in his legs. The Ixam rolled over playfully to show his stomach and then nipped at Mitt's fingers the moment he touched his tummy.

"Alright, you're fine. Go catch some fish or birds or something. Get some meat on those bones ya skinny little boy."



WC 712 Total WC 1,369

[Taln]

"I'm not gonna chase you!" yelled Mitt from about fifty paces back, walking forward to literally chase after him. Taln responded with an obscene one fingered gesture and continued to walk on in complete silence. That kid wouldn't last a bell alive in Wind Reach. That was probably why Mitt's behavior irked him so damn much. He was a big fat walking talking bundle of weaknesses that were easy to destroy him with. Had he grown so harsh and callous? Had he himself truly become more like an Endal-in all the worst possible ways? Was that kid mistaking his polite manners as stupid? Either way, talking clearly wasn't working. He'd made himself communicate well to Mitt but the kid just refused to hear what he didn't want to, or acted like regular rules didn't apply to him. Mitt's steps got closer and Taln sighed with annoyance. Maybe if he treated him like he was in Wind Reach, he'd finally get it? Hmm that was an idea. "For someone who's not gonna chase me, you're chasing me." Taln said, abruptly turning to face Mitt. His forward momentum was about to run full into Taln and the redhead easily pushed the kid's left shoulder to the side to send him stumbling face first into the sand. "I don't like to be crowded." He said, stepping to the side. He knew that simple small act would push Mitt to anger. Very easily. Mitt looked up from the ground in rage, ready to charge at him. "Hold." Taln commanded, his eyes alight with flames. "Don't you dare try to attack me on reflex." The sudden firmness of the comment and quiet confident tone of voice made it a command that Mitt obeyed. Taln walked to just in front of Mitt, ready to make his point in what he figured was the only way to make his point. "Stay there and don't move until I tell you to." He loomed over Mitt, looking down with a hard immobile face, his gaze locked on him in a silent, blatant threat. The tawny haired young man was evidently confused and looked up at Taln with fearful light blue eyes. "Put your eyes down before I put 'em out. For good." Mitt looked down at the ground and started to rearrange his long legs because it was damned uncomfortable to sit cross legged when you where still leaning sideways on the sand. A large foot nudged him hard, pushing his legs exactly back where they were. "I didn't give you permission to move." Mitt's face clearly registered a what the fuck is going on expression. His left arm began to lose sensation from leaning on it and he went to mo- The large foot kicked out and knocked the arm out from under him. "Don't move means don't move. Did I say you could look at me?" Taln growled in a deeply pitched voice. The young blacksmith laid rigidly still and silent in the sand with his eyes down. "Is that all you can understand? Commands and brutality? Anything else too much for your tiny little mind?" Mitt glared fiercely and started to stumble up with his fists clenched-and Taln harshly set down a single large foot onto his chest, slamming Mitt roughly back down into the sand with a thud. His eyes blazed and he rested his weight on that foot on the chest and replied, "Eyes down NOW. And I asked you a question boy." "You fuc-" Taln shifted his foot away and immediately shut down the rest of Mitt's comment by swiftly poking him in the forehead. "Wrong answer. Try again. With respect." He said, bending forward so closely to Mitt's face that the heat shimmered off of Taln in waves. "I forgot the que-" The flaming eyed redhead put out a fast foot to roll Mitt over and shoved him face down in the sand. "Shut up and don't move until I tell you." he commanded, walking away silently to the Commons to get some food. 'If that doesn't give the kid some insight. I don't know what will.' thought Taln. Mitt popped open an eye and looked around to see Taln walking away. It looked like he was getting something to eat! Sonofabitch! The tawny haired young smith lurched to his feet and stomped directly to Taln, the sand still clinging to his face. Taln heard him stomping but waited until he was ten paces away to speak. "That was three whole chimes in the life of an average Dek, the lowest caste, and you would have been killed at any one of those movements or comments. I was actually -very nice- to you." the red head said quietly, putting some meat on the grill and watching it as it cooked. "You seriously wouldn't make it a solid bell alive back in Wind Reach. That was my whole point to the rude way you've been acting to me in every single damn conversation you've had with me. I've been more than tolerant of your shyke. While I could easily bully or kill you despite your taunts, I choose not to. A little respect goes a long way kid." WC 850 Total WC 2.393

[Mittle]

Mitt rubbed the sand off his face and stopped five paces away from Taln and watched him with wary dark blue eyes.

"Wait so a deck is an actual rank there? Like something to walk on?"

"Nice way to put it, yeah."

"And you just went full on indull on me?"

Taln gave a short, sharp bark of a laugh. "Endal. And that was literally child's play back there. It would have been barely even a Yasi, a child, straight out of the crèche. I didn't make you bleed and didn't leave a single bruise. I was far gentler than a Yasi."

"What? Are you serious? The kids there are that .. savage?"

Taln nodded but kept his eyes focused on the sizzling meat. "From seven to fourteen, Yasi are given Bendi to perform, chores. If you work hard and you're of sound mind and body, you can reach any higher status."

"Is Dek lower than Yasi?"

"That depends on who's watching and if you're alone. While a Dek has to obey in front of others, if they're alone with a Yasi, it's different with each person. Half-Inarta Yasi are rare. An outright hostile or killer Dek with them is more likely. Not all of us-them though." Taln caught and corrected himself quickly, looking pensive about something or someone.

The redhead looked like he was kind of sad so Mitt said the first thing that came to mind.

"That food smells good."
"Yes my food does smell good..." Taln replied, letting it hang for emphasis.

"Ok, yeah I get the hint." Mitt said, attempting to get his own meal together, but he really sucked at cooking. He took out what looked like a fish fillet and slapped it wetly onto the grill next to Taln's and it gave a satisfying hiss as it hit the metal.

'He could've killed me with that foot to the chest thing. I've hit the solar plexus with just open palms before and it's a stunner. An elbow or heel would've been brutal. Why didn't he though?' Mitt thought with a frown. Mercy from an elder when they clearly had the upper hand to kill, simply never occurred to him.

The fish smelled like it was burning and he started looking for a cooking fork to turn it. His eyes lingering on the one next to Taln he felt the ginger watching him with yellow eyes.

"Try it. I dare you." he said in a very low pitched voice that sounded like a growl.

Now the fish definitely smelled like it was burning badly and he walked across the Commons to grab a long cooking fork and run back to the smoking fish. Several people left the area, waving their hands in front of their faces and coughing. Half of the fish stuck to the grill as he tried awkwardly to pick it up and turn it. The other half of burnt/raw fish slid from the cooking fork and hit the ground, charred and smoldering. Gods dammit!

He tried to shove underneath the fish and flip it-success! Mitt could do with just one side burned. It was something. And he could give the half in the sand to Stoker maybe? Hm no. The little guy was smart and if he fed him at the Commons once, he'd expect it again. The tawny haired young man ran back and got a plate for his half charred food. After several attempts, he finally got the stinking mess to his plate and went to join Taln at the table he was sitting.

The guy's plate was empty and he smirked at Mitt with a knowing glint.
"You smell that right? It's not fish, it's snake."
"What? That's gross." Mitt curled up his lip in disgust and shoved the plate away from him fast.

The redhead leveled a stare at him but said nothing.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Then what's with the look?"
"Haven't gone hungry very often huh?"
"I have too! Lots a times! Sometimes I'd even miss three meals in a sevenday!"
"Amateur." Taln snorted and said nothing more about it.
"Whatever. It's not like even YOU would eat that mess." Mitt said scornfully
"Excuse me?" Taln said in a very quiet, very soft voice.

"Sorry." he replied instantly, putting his head down to look at the table. Mitt's face, neck and ears burned red and he looked down at the unappetizing mess of half burnt, half raw snake fillet.

The sudden dynamics of a Sunberth shift of power worked well on the young blacksmith. Violence and dominance was what he'd learned growing up and effectively altered his behavior far faster and more thoroughly than years of endless lectures would have done.




WC 783 Total WC 2,152

[Taln]

Taln was starting to get a littler better of an understanding of Mitt's history, noting how his posture, tone, demeanor and words had distinctly changed. As long as Taln remained slightly distant and wasn't friendly, THEN Mitt acted respectfully. Did the kid honestly not know a friend? He thought back to the conversation at the Tidepool with Mitt asking what he'd wanted by buying him a meal and didn't understand a nice gesture without insisting on money. The redhead didn't really know anything about Sunberth but if that was the standard they lived by, it was a cold ugly place. Not that Wind Reach was any friendlier but at least he knew the concept of what it could be to have a friend. His mind drifted back instantly to Rista and Drusilla, knowing kindness from them and mutual respect. He wasn't entirely sure that Mitt had even half a clue of what it meant to -be- a friend, much less, have one. Well now that he'd learned how to 'speak some Sunberth' to Mitt, maybe he would ask him some questions about his past. Maybe dig around in the kid's head to see why he was blind to any form of kindness. It was something that needed doing. A hunch, an intuition that the kid just needed a shove in the right direction to understand things. In a way, maybe it was like going back in time, and showing his own young and stupid self that not everyone was out to kill you. Well, most of them. "Go pick up that food off the ground and put it on the plate with the other food. Set it down over here on the table." Taln told Mitt. "'I'm going to do dishes and clean the utensils so you should go get that wire brush by the front of the Commons and clean off that grill you defiled." The tall redhead washed the stack of flatware and dishes, stacking them neatly when they were done. He went back over to storage and took out some more red meat as well as a cooking fork, two clean plates and utensils. When the kid finished cursing and scrubbing the grill, Taln gestured him over to the freshly cleaned grill. "I'm not a cook either but have your plate and cooking things ready before you cook." Taln 'cheated' a little with impatience and flared the dying embers back into hotter coals again. He picked up the red meat with the cooking fork and placed it on the grill, dislodging the tool by sliding it against the bottom of the metal. "Meat, cooking fork and fire are the extent of my skills. Now you watch it cook." Mitt looked on with dark blue eyes and his stomach growled obnoxiously loudly as Taln tried to hold back a small smile. He put the cooking fork into Mitt's right hand and stepped back a half pace. "Slide the fork in at an angle from the top like lifting a hot iron from the forge and then you're going to slap off the slag and flip it." The young blacksmith slid the fork in easily flipping the meat without a spatter and looked at Taln with a smile. "I did it!" Taln didn't smile back, he just nodded. The redhead moved back a few paces and watched as Mitt continued. "You did it once. Now keep your eyes on it and poke it a few times. If blood wells up instantly, don't flip it yet. If it seeps out slower, then flip it. And use your nose to smell if it seems burnt." He moved back to go sit down at the table, watching Mitt finally cook something edible, even if it was only a bit of meat. Taln looked at the half burned, half raw snake and knew for a solid fact that yes, he would have eaten that way back when and been damn grateful for every bite. He'd eaten far worse. He sat with a rigid upright posture, carefully schooling his features back to the old impassive mask. Mitt couldn't handle friendship right now and too much nice at this critical point would only confuse him. As things stood right now, the kid definitely wasn't a friend. The tall young man murmured quietly to himself in surprise as he watched the grill, "The guy's finally acting normal. About damn time too." Taln gave no outward indication that he'd heard anything at all and looked down at the table. 'Mitt honestly thought that me ordering him around was normal. That me bullying him into the literal, physical ground was -normal-?!' he pondered worriedly. "I think it's done!" Mitt said triumphantly, sliding it successfully onto one of the plates. "About time. Bring it over here and get the other plate. That meal isn't just for you." Taln said firmly, holding the line between statement and order. He didn't like the feeling much and he frowned. The tawny haired young man set down the fresh cooked meat and plates and waited with hungry blue eyes fixed on the meat. Taln took out his eating knife and cut it into a large slice for himself to slide on his plate and left a quarter of it for Mitt. The redhead ate very slowly with his copper hair over his eyes, carefully watching Mitt take his ridiculously smaller, unfair portion and eat happily. Apparently that was normal. WC 906 Total WC 3,299