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smokescreen sandalioooooh Mar 11, 76 18 Views
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Started by Valens, May 15, 2018, 10:41 PM
Valens
No title
Hume
3 Posts 26 Years Male 6' 2" House Essair Slave Written by Esmera
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
May 15, 2018, 10:41 PM / 625 Words
You know, being relegated to bringing water in from the well out back, taking care of the horses, and moving heavy objects, was novel the first week or so. Now, well, it was still kind of novel, but it was also, did Kassandros literally pay that many hessions for a proven blood fighter just to... make him a stable boy? Apparently.

Not to imply he was complaining, it just seemed, at least to him in his narrow purview, to be something of a waste. They weren't his hessions, and he supposed Kassandros could do whatever he wanted with his own, but really, a typical house slave would've been perhaps a more financially sound investment than a blood fighter. Granted, there was very little Valens was unable to move. Wrestling with 400 pound lions and taking bears down did tend to lend to a level of physical tone that most typical house slaves notably lacked, but then, then. Valens started thinking about the intelligence of letting a blood fighter accustomed to fighting bears around him and not having some kind of fall-back plan if he should get it in mind to get nasty.

Because, was Kassandros aware Valens could probably snap him in two? Just saying. Not that he would, House Essair had been peaceful, in a way he hadn't expected a Dalmascan house to ever be, to the point it was bordering on boring, but what if he did? Admittedly, he'd watched Kassandros go through combat drills in the afternoon and spend mornings dancing (did he know his eyes glowed after he sat in the sun?), so he wasn't exactly weak, for a highborn Dalmascan at least, but that was really more into the semantics realm. Valens wasn't interested in semantics, in most instances. He just did what he was told, anymore.

He'd lost his fight, a long time ago. Oh, sure, it was there somewhere; a Macenian never was truly docile, after all, even if they'd apparently calmed to some extent. But he didn't take offence to everything, anymore. House Essair had given him, thus far, no reason to bare his fangs, and he'd kept them to himself. ... this wearing clothes thing, though, that was going to grate every nerve he had. He was getting used to it, but he still often reached up and rubbed at his neck, where his shirt collar met his skin. At least the fabric wasn't murderously hot, but Dalmasca hadn't warmed up all the way, just yet, the air still cool and crisp, but not cold. It was starting to get sticky, though. Eugh.

Easily, he carried a couple buckets of well water, meandering into the foyer. He'd already refilled the water trough, and scattered more hay, and now the kitchen ilim, er, Leon, probably wanted water to make breakfast and all that. Master Essair wasn't here, at the moment (wasn't that weird, he literally left the ilim healer woman, Merenwen, in charge when he left, and he left), but nobody knew where he'd gone. He quietly shuffled to the kitchen, set the buckets down, and then blinked. At the equally gigantic Macenian helping Leon.

Uh. Probably unsurprisingly, he just arched an eyebrow up in confusion, and tilted his head. Kind of looked familiar, actually. He shouldn't ponder this too long. Anyway. He was going to ask if Leon needed anything, but uhm, probably not.

@Lenara

Valerius
No title
Hume
12 Posts 24 Years male 6'2'' House Essair Slave Written by Lenara
May 16, 2018, 11:16 AM / 396 Words
It was very unsettling, as someone who'd been purchased as a bodyguard, to wake up and have absolutely no idea where his charge had gone. What use as a guard was he if he wasn't around and of course, Sandalio hadn't the faintest idea where Kassandros had even been going, which meant he couldn't just follow and meet up with him wherever-it-was. Sure, okay the kid was probably confident he'd be fine. But there was a reason he and Lycaon had been bought for just that purpose.

And the ridiculous number of assassins the day they'd been bought only really underscored that problem. Ugh.

Despite his irritation, Sandalio was quietly assisting in the kitchen, keeping his expression bland. He wasn't talking much, but well that could easily be chalked up to not being entirely awake yet. Idly he wondered why the Ilim wouldn't just let Kass move these shelves down. It was easier to bend down than climb up. ... ... Did they understand that? At any rate, Sandalio was not quite up for getting in the middle of that, so he mostly just obediently got what was needed and stayed out of the way.

At the sound of someone entering the kitchen, Sandalio looked over his shoulder. And... it took most of his reflexes to keep from dropping the knife he'd been working with. Um. Setting that down for a moment to turn and look at the other man better. Heavens, he was tall. Okay, well, roughly the same height as Sandalio himself.

But there was something... achingly familiar about him. He'd be just about the right age, really. Sandalio shook his head sharply. "Nice to meet you, I'm Sandalio." Politely. 

... And using his real name would mean that if the guy was as familiar as he looked, he'd recognize it. Yes, that seemed the safest way to go around that particular subject. He'd had no idea that he and Lycaon weren't the only titans running around the Estate. ... Which probably only underscored just how big the place was.

He did to back to cutting up what he'd been working on in the first place, finally. ... For the moment, at least.

Valens
No title
Hume
3 Posts 26 Years Male 6' 2" House Essair Slave Written by Esmera
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
May 16, 2018, 11:43 PM / 383 Words
S-

That wasn't a terribly common name, Valens knew. Tristán. Maybe he should get used to being Tristán, again, because it wasn't as if Kassandros called him by any other name, and, probably mimicking their head of house, none of the slaves did, either. Being honest, it was strange, as he'd not been called that name in over a decade, now, had almost forgotten it. Still, where the hell did Kassandros dig that name up from? It really wasn't the point.

Sandalio. The only one he'd ever heard of was his younger brother. Tristán tilted his head, a bit further, actually looking at him better. He kind of looked like papi, at least, as far as Tristán could remember of him. It'd been a long time since he'd seen papi, either, but his memory told him it was right. "I'm uh. Nice to meet you too," he answered, blue eyes narrowed in thought. "I'm Tristán." Well, he'd been named that a long time ago, more accurately. He didn't feel like Tristán anymore. Which, was probably part of what made Kassandros insisting on calling him that so... confusing? Was it frustrating? He wasn't sure which word to use. He hadn't been Tristán in a long time. It was weird, to suddenly be called that again.

Many of those in the house insisted that was why Kassandros called them by their real names. Some, even, had forgotten the name the Dalmascans had given them, because they'd been in House Essair so long, they'd not been called that in years, and when they had been, it was for a short period of time. Tristán didn't have that kind of luxury. And it made no sense to him, why a noble Dalmascan would fixate so firmly on something so trivial as his stupid name.

He did wonder, though, if he'd have even recalled, about now, what his birth name was, if Kassandros hadn't insisted on using it. He'd concern himself with that later. Right now, he supposed it really didn't matter.

Valerius
No title
Hume
12 Posts 24 Years male 6'2'' House Essair Slave Written by Lenara
May 18, 2018, 10:47 AM / 378 Words
Tristán. Sandalio let that rattle around in his head for a moment, still looking at the other. He was familiar, really familiar. It'd been years, but his name... of course, Sandalio's name was the one that stood out. Tristán wasn't terribly uncommon. And yet. And yet. There was something... something about him. If it had just been the name, he could have dismissed it. But it was not.

What in the hell were the chances of this shit anyway? Was this something else Kassandros had done on purpose, trying to reunite families? He'd done a few things now that almost seemed like that was what he was trying to do. It was an odd thing for a Dalmascan to care about, reuniting families that had long since excepted that they were never going to see each other again. Or had it been an accident, he just happened to also have a third Macenian titan around the house.

Sandalio didn't really know enough about the situation to decide if it could have been an accident or a purposeful action that he couldn't fathom the reasoning behind. He shook his head slightly, trying to brush off the thoughts and stay a bit more focused on the here and now.

"I don't suppose you had siblings. Brothers?" It seemed to be one of the easier ways to even confirm if this was the same Tristán or not. Figuring out if they were even the same person seemed prudent before getting too excited about it anyway. Still, it was awfully coincidental if it wasn't Tristán after all.

Somewhere in his heart, Sandalio was sure it was. He just needed to convince his logical mind, too. He was never going to finish what he was working on though, if he kept focusing on this with Tristán instead. Maybe he should just let it go until after breakfast was finished, at the very least. It was probably a better idea than being distracted while cooking. ... Even if he was just doing prep work for Leon.

Yeah that was... that was probably a better idea. Okay.

Valens
No title
Hume
3 Posts 26 Years Male 6' 2" House Essair Slave Written by Esmera
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
May 18, 2018, 08:11 PM / 498 Words
[ooc: I'm just gonna call him Jayme for right now lol]

Interesting first question. In hindsight, it wasn't surprising, because Val - Tristán was wondering the same thing. He remembered he had two brothers, couldn't recall his parents' names. To him, they were just papi and mama, and when he'd heard their names, it'd been through someone else calling them by it. He'd been thirteen, he thought, somewhere around there, when the Dalmascans got him, and you hadn't figured out what your parents' names were, hadn't had it fully sink in, by then. Something with an 'E'... his mother's name was something with an 'E'. Eneida? Maybe. Eneida... it sounded right, but also didn't, at the same time. It'd been too long; he didn't really have it on recall, anymore, and, in thinking about it, he was surprised he'd lost so much.

He'd had other things to worry about, he supposed. It'd just gotten pushed aside, as it wasn't important right then, and, he'd forgotten. But that was the point, wasn't it, Dalmasca often sought to make you forget, because if all you remembered was Dalmasca, even if the cage doors were open, you were afraid to leave it. Now wasn't really the time to think of that. It didn't matter. The younger brother, what was his name.. he honestly didn't remember Sandalio's name, until he said it, either. Tristán looked up at the ceiling, following the patterns in the wood beams, up there, thinking.

"Two, younger than me," he answered, his tone thoughtful. "Sandalio and... and... fuck." Ahh, it was one thing to forget his parents' names, another to forget his brothers'. Don't get frustrated, it wouldn't help, anyway. He'd used those names all the time, it had to be in his head somewhere. A breath in, closing his eyes, thinking... the other name, what was it...

In his head, he could hear his younger self, chasing his younger brother around the fire, trying to get him to sit still so mama could give him a bath. He'd fallen into a mud puddle. And by fallen, it was more likely he'd jumped. 'Hold still,' he'd said. 'Mama doesn't have the energy to chase you around, -'

"Jayme," quiet, almost surprised, eyes snapping back open. "Sandalio and Jayme." He remembered now. Funny enough, now that he'd remembered his youngest brother's name, there were more memories he could recall, memories that weren't there before. No, they were, just buried. Tristán tilted his head, again, watching the other. "You can't possibly be the same one." Things like this, by chance, they didn't happen in Dalmasca.
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