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 Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2006 10:49 pm
Adulthood. It comes as a brilliant flash in time. Childhood and innocence had long since passed for the young cub by the calling of Upendo’Mpaji, or at least it should have. Unfortunately for several members of the Firekin, especially Moto, he had never lost his playful ignorance, and probably never would.
The current situation involved him stuck headfirst in a hole that was rather too small for his now gargantuan of a head. For the life of him Mpaji could not figure out as to why he was having such difficulty. After all, it had fit not just a few months before with ease. However, as he was quickly finding out, his head was simply not unearthing from the bitterly warm sands. Over his many years of getting older, and weaving his way in between the various Firekin wonders the ‘cub’ had grown quite the tongue.
A cloud of sand, dust and fur tore into the sky, followed by a distinct and deep grumble. The harsh sounds of cursing came directly after, telling everyone around it was indeed the gregarious, yet loveable, Upendo’Mpaji. Long ago they had stopped trying to break his spirit or depress his soul. His laugh was a giant trombone playing across the desolation, a music that was played more often than not. Sharp needle teeth were exposed as he gave the ground a hearty peeve and pounced at it. The sand ripped at his thick fur coat voraciously, but he was winning, tearing sand up in all directions. Perhaps they thought him mad, being a full grown and heavily built adult who was attempting to win a battle with the earth. All fun and games, of course, but it was really, truly, entirely ridiculous.
“Take that you blasphemous upheaval!” he shouted at it, shoving his muzzle over the grains and jerking away a mouthful. “Blech!” he protested as he ground his now gritted tongue against the roof of his mouth. Maybe sand wasn’t the best thing to try and subdue with your mouth. After what seemed ages he finally grew tired of his crazy ordeal and so simply trampled the sand by hopping, his white mane floating merrily in the windless air. “Teach you to keep my ******** head in a goddamned hole!” With a monumental grin on his face he delivered one sharp glare and deposited a spit wad onto the sand.
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Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2006 11:19 pm
"Such language," Moto murmured, her voice sliding from her maw like velvet against bare flesh as she turned a corner to find her charge covered in sand, still spitting it out. She'd become something of a seductress, now that Keeni was held well in her grasp, and she desplayed this new facet of her personality like one of many on a diamond necklace. She'd truly taken Azula's suggestions to heart, and had changed completely because of it. Even since her encounter with Zuko, she'd lost her tendancy to launch into a fury so quickly, though that part of her personality had by no means left her entirely.
But all metaphors aside, the voice of Mpaji was more than welcome. She hadn't seen him in what felt like forever, though in reality it hadn't been more than a few weeks. In just that time however, she could have sworn he'd grown half again in size.
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2006 12:26 pm
His small crème ears flicked in their placement. There was something oddly familiar about that voice, but he noted it had change. Moto. The grin on his maw widened as he turned to look at her. The smile quickly vanished as he saw her pose and nature. There was something not quite right about the way she seemed and Mpaji couldn’t say he liked it. He had fallen in love with the angry, but soft and kind Moto. Not the kind of lustful love, but the kind a cub gives a mother, for that’s what she was to him. Every child dreads their parents becoming seductive players who slept around and manipulated everyone. They expected the same loyalty they portrayed to their parents. Despite his loving nature a pang of hurt washed over him causing his skin to quiver and twitch. Only a few weeks, but she’d changed to something so much different. It couldn’t have been Keeni could it?
Never the less his complaints would get him no where and he was still overjoyed to see her. His tail flicked quietly from side to side, a notification that he saw her but could not bring himself to say hello. He felt betrayed, just in this small change of emotion he felt it. If there had been any anger in his body, or he had been Firekin, he would have set off to kill Keeni and seek vengeance upon the world. Such trifles were akin to his nature, so he only knew silence in the face of darkness.
“Moto. . .” he managed, though it was barely a whisper. His eyes blinked twice and he settled down onto his haunches, gazing glassy eyed at the situation. “Where have you been?” Abandoned him, that’s where. She had a life and he shouldn’t be intruding, but what if things hadn’t gone well and they’d all beaten him to nothingness? What if he hadn’t been gifted with such generous size and become a runt instead? Perhaps Moto knew he’d grow so large and could take care of himself. Maybe she didn’t. Did it matter?
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Posted: Tue Oct 24, 2006 8:04 pm
"Same place you have," she answered, knowing it wasn't the answer he sought, but she didn't have another readily available. She stepped nearer and eased her hindquarters down to sit before him. Any other motherly figure might have nuzzled her adopted "son" in greeting and reassurance, but Motomilia was not any regular lioness; she was Firekin. Some of that reluctance to show displays of affection, at least, still remained.
"I'm sorry I haven't come to find you before. I hope they haven't been too hard on you..?" Her concern was genuine; she did care for him.
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 7:27 pm
Well no s**t Sherlock. Of course she'd been around or near these lands of fire, but he hadn't seen her. Therefore she might as well have been in an entirely different world altogether. His tail swished from side to side, displaying his annoyance, but he didn't bother a rebuttle. If anything he had learned to hold his tongue a bit better. Even if he was large, the firekin were just as big, most males anyway, and the larger they were, it seemed, the more likely a strike would come his way even unprovoked.
Despite this factor he seemed to have avoided any serious beatings, possessing no battle scars or anger wounds. In fact his golden skin seemed near downright perfect, except it might have been a bit stretched over such a large muscular figure. He fantasized he even had a bit of firekin bloodline in him, though it was totally untrue. Let the young have their dreams.
"Fine," he drawled. "They've been fine." It wasn't very hard to avoid the lumbering brutes. The majority were anger driven and lashed out with their paws. Not so much like the Kwani he had met, or Moto. No, most were like Keeni. Stupid and quick to anger. The lack of brain was far higher on Keeni's side. Where was that thing anyway?
"Where's that son of b***h gone to?" He scanned the air with aphrehension. "Not glued to you like some sort of love struck bur is he?"
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2006 7:59 pm
"No," she answered, offering up no comment on how her kin had been treating him. No doubt he had managed to learn how to avoid the worst of them; she could see no wounds or scars on his pelt. His answer had been honest in part at least.
"I don't know where he's gotten to as of late," she continued. Which was true, again, in part. She didn't have to be a mindreader to see how Mpaji liked Keeni -- which is to say, he didn't.
Nothing much else had happened between them since Moto had tied the final knots of her web around Keeni and drawn him in. But she wasn't stupid enough to be under the impression that he had forgotten about her.
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Posted: Sat Nov 18, 2006 11:47 am
Mpaji stopped in his rantings, his ears flattened against his skull. He couldn't tell whether or not she was angry or happy with him talking about Keeni, and it bugged him. For whatever reason he needed to know. It hurt him to ask, but his mind wouldn't let him not.
"Do you like Keeni Moto? I mean really like him?" His eyes held some hurt. If she said yes, then he'd have to watch out for Keeni. Moto probably wouldn't protect him then, not that she had been, but she had her own things to do, and plans to fullfil, he shouldn't get in the way of those.
His eyes scanned the area for any sign of other firekin, but he could see none. For the moment they were completely alone, and he hoped she'd feel safe enough to answer him honestly. He didn't like people keeping secrets from him, it made him feel stupid and unwanted.
Slave or not, he still had a better mind than most of the Firekin. At least he wasn't prejudiced.
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Posted: Sun Nov 19, 2006 4:58 pm
Moto fixed her eyes on him, regarding him while she thought about her answer.
"He has his uses," she replied. She certainly wasn't in love with him as he seemed to be with her, that was for ******** sure. But while she couldn't tell Mpaji that, she could clue him in, to draw his own conclusions. "What do you think, Mpaji? It's not hard to tell you don't like him." The question was asked not with sarcastic malice, as was her usual attitude. It was an honest question, same as he'd asked her.
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Posted: Sun Nov 19, 2006 6:12 pm
Mpaji guffawed, his mouth hanging open, mane ruffled about his face in every which direction. He hadn't expected her to ask him what he thought. Surely she knew her emotions better than he could ever tell her. Yet perhaps she wasn't sure herself, or couldn't afford to say it. Should he, then, be her voice and say it for her, or would it come out as a hope and not the true fact he knew.
Her response of uses kept him intrigued. Her voice didn't change composition as he'd heard his mother's once had, before she never returned. He couldn't even remember her face, only that voice when she saw father, whom he wouln't know ever existed except for a pinprick against his head when he thought of his kin.
"I think," he paused, waiting for the words to hit his tongue. None came. He took a deep breath and gulped down the sand that choked against his throat.
"That perhaps you need him, to fit in." He thought harder. It made sense. The Firekin were a dying breed. "That the price to pay to gain control and survive is to love someone you can never truly give your heart to." He knew it now, and it made a shudder travel down his spine. Perhaps he, too, must take this same path someday. Sacrafice and life went hand in hand. "If so, you've made the right choice. I'm sorry." He hung his head low and hoped she forgive him for seeming so vain. He'd have to respect Keeni, as dumb as he was and hope in his heart Motomillia wouldn't fall in love.
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