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 Posted: Tue Apr 18, 2006 12:12 pm
"You have him, then?" The elder looked quietly at his council, eyes gleaming in some kind of untold pleasure. The criminal had been brought into custody - and that was all he had wanted for the past five years.
"Yes, Elder, he is in a maximum security hold. Not even he can get away this time."
"Bring him here. I wish to...Speak to him. Alone."
"Alone, Sir? Do you really think that to be wi-"
"I said alone, Council. Are you questioning me?"
"No, Elder, I simply...Never mind," the grey haired man looked to the side, "Bring Drathir in. Everyone else, clear out."
~
Damn it all, why were all these men so insistent upon touching him? They had already ripped his best top coat, took away his hat and whip, and bloodied his lip. His perfect face would be marred for the next few days - and even then, his beautiful lips would never be the same.
Damn them all to the fiery pits of hell.
As he was pushed viciously through the doors, causing him to trip and fall on his knees, he heard a merry laugh. He knew that laugh.
Elder. So that was what this was about, hmm? They couldn't have just left him to make his gold in piece. It wasn't his fault that the Elder's daughters were beautiful -and- stupid, was it? It wasn't as if HE had been the one to rape them.
He had simply...Sold them for his own personal gain. Nothing wrong with that, right? A man had to eat. And Trenril was entitled to fancy meals.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold, isn't it boy?"
Trenril laughed, his head lifting to allow cold green eyes, "I learned to ignore the cold a long time ago," he retorted, shifting back so he was sitting on the heels of his shoes. His precious boots.
"Ahh, lovely for me. I hear Gaia can be quite warm."
"Gaia? Have you lost your marbles, old man? What does cold have to do with Gaia?"
"Oh? They didn't tell you? You're under arrest for operating an illegal slavery ring, resisting arrest. Instead of K'raharian prisons - which I know you'd find marvelous considering you'd be able to make everyone there your b***h - you're sentenced to rehabilitation on the planet of Gaia."
The color melted from Trenril's already pale face, "You're kicking me out of my own world? My family is one of the most prestigious! One of the Founders!"
"Prestigious criminals. Though I admit, you came close to out doing your father. You will never match him."
Like an animal enraged, Trenril dove at the elder, pinning him into his chair as he dug his elbow deep into his throat, "I SURPASSED MY FATHER!"
The elder looked up at Trenril, calm in his face as he attempted to speak, "Never."
Trenril's face iced over as he put more pressure, watching the man's eyes bug out and his face turn a sick shade of red, "It's amusing watching your face turn as many colors as a turnsicle pop, Elder. Is it as amusing to feel it?" his voice was soft as cold as his expression, "To know that your lungs are about ready to pop? No? Well too bad. I've surpassed my father."
The elder struggled for breath. It was useless, and he knew it. He had pushed the criminal too far. It was then the guards burst in - a few moments too late. The Elder was dead.
"Trenril Drathir, you're officially charged with Murder."
Trenril laughed. It wouldn't be the first time.
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:30 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:32 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:34 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:37 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:38 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:40 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:41 pm
Kian was curled up in front of the television. The machine wasn't turned on but...the boy couldn't see himself in it. It was too dark. He was too dark. Colorless. That's what he was - colorless and bland, dark and without any life. He scowled, grabbing one of his colorful blocks and hurled it at the screen.
Unfortunetly, the plastic bounced off the screen and hit the little alien directly in the forehead, sending him onto his back with a rather loud cry.
Rothe had been wandering around the house, bored. It was surprising considering how many people were IN the house but the parents were taking care of the new brats and Iamel had the other brats and Akilah was off doing whatever...Damnit, the only one around was Kian and HE was no fun.
All they ever did was fight. And then the block hit Kian's forehead and Rothe fell over giggling, "Ki! Hit! Hahahahahaha."
b*****d.
Kian twisted around on the ground with a cats grace, lips peeling back into a harsh hiss, nails digging into the ground. Rothe was about being a cold b*****d, manipulating people with his whims and tantrums... Kian was about making them do things with his actions.
Thus, each hand grabbed at a block and threw them at his brothers head. He was young (physically), but he was strong. His aim, as well, was rather good although his muscles were underdeveloped.
The block hit him and Rothe stopped his laughing, green eyes narrowing as he stared at the young man he reluctantly called brother. How dare he throw a block at him! HIM! He was above him. Even if he was the younger one...He was older in mind wasn't he? That's what should count! The alien pulled himself onto his feet...And charged. It was likely that Kian would move out of the way in time.
However, Rothe was angry, and it was shown by the fact he hadn't screamed. Rothe was very loud when angry - deadly silent when pissed.
Oh, but that was the fun part. Kian was still on the ground, hand and knees like an animal. His tail flew in the air, hissing again and his arm drew back as if to let the second block fly at his sibling. What happened next was just his body reacting, moving without thinking - he still had the ingrained "FIGHT DAMNIT" instincts in him from his old life.
When Rothe came into view, that bluntly spiked appendage flew through the air, Kians frame moving to try and smack his brother with the purely muscled tail. It was his defense, other then scratching the thinner childs eyes out
It was pure luck that Rothe had hit the floor before Kian's tail came at him. It missed him by a few centimeters and the pale boy growled low under his breath, "KI!" he screeched, rolling onto his back and laying there as he glared at the dark child. Why were they fighting like animals? Better worded - why was he. Kian was a lower form of life, to him. Slave material - they were expected of acting like animals.
He, however, was not. He was supposed to be better than that! The toddler pulled himself to his feet and glared, still, as if expecting the boy to conform and kiss his feet, "Bad!"
"Bad?" The child growled, bristling as the other looked down at him so condescendingly. He pushed himself up off of the ground - Rothe was younger but Kian was shorter. And chubbier. "No bad! Rof' laugh. Rof' BAD."
His witty retort ended with a sneer, webbed, clawed fingers flexing as he glowered. His younger brother was just like them - just one in a million. "Bad Rof' - not-one likes no how!"
"YOU bad!" he reiterated before stamping his food. Childish tendancies indeed. He may have an older mind but he was still prone to childish outbursts -this apparently being one of them. Kian was cattle - he should be listening to him! NOT fighting him! If this were his home planet he'd be put to death...But this WASN'T his home planet. The thought smashed him down and he simply pouted.
"You bad." the voice was soft, defeated. He wanted to go home.
"Ki AN Rof' bad," Kian sneered in return, head tilting up in a rather cocky, experianced little manner. "S' Gaia. Bof' bad. Bu ROF'..." He shakes his head slightly, lips peeling back against him once more to bear his sharp little teeth. "Bad-der. Bad-ist. Not-one like no-how. Key-anne got comeraderie."
"Gaia bad," Rothe growled before plopping on his bum and staring at the blocks. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to take the blocks and go on a spree of just throwing them at anyone and everyone who passed for simply being on Gaia. Gaia sucked.
And then he was insulted and his head raised, black hair falling away from his eyes, "YOU worse. YOU." he insisted. He would NOT be swayed!
All eyes narrowed and leveled in on Rothe. His expression was far from angered beyond reasoning and instead it was coldly amused. It was one of those few, few times where HE had the upper hand, HE was the one who could hurt the other.
"No."
The word was said slowly, roughly, almost insultingly...and Kian smirked. Sure, his lips turned upwards but it was far from a smile. Cruel and snarling, he had momentarily taken on the attributes Rothe used to place in himself. "Rof. Wors."
Rothe reached for the nearest block and squeezed at it, small nails digging into the plastic, "KIN WORSE!" he screeched, anger once more overtaking him. The tables were not allowed to be switched on him! He could not let Kian think he was better than him! Rebellion started once that happened. Rebellion was death - he had learned that plenty of times. So many times he had watched that.
It. Would. Not. Be. Him.
The block was thrown, then, right at Kian's head.
"YOU!"
And then...He broke. And started to cry. God, he was a drama king.
This time, Kian ducked. Or he fell, rather, to his knees, head falling to the ground with his arms over his skull to protect himself. He wasn't about to get hit again. When the sound of bawling hit him (the only times he'd heard someone be so LOUD about it before was when a youngling had Crossed or they had hurt themselves), his upper yellow eyes slid up, watching the other curiously.
He was leaking. Rothe was leaking like a youngling or a ...a weak person! How dare he leak! Rothe had no reason to leak! What did his big-sibling Ee-ah-mel say about people like that?
"Wush."
The ebony boy scoffed, pushing himself up, muscles tensed up in an effort to not jump at and throttle Rothe. "....bof' bad."
Rothe sniffled and wiped his eyes. Did his brother just call him a wuss? He shook slightly and hissed, "Bof bad. No wuss." his way of trying to compromise. He wasn't in the mood to argue with cattle and he realized sometimes it was just best to leave things be. Made things easier. Mentally, though, he made a tally mark against Kian's name. Rothe would eventually get him back - he had a good memory and he knew how to hold a grudge.
"Kay?"
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:43 pm
"Rothe? Where in bloody hell is that child...Rothe?" Mordread wandered around their decently sized house, dodging between their many children in search of one particular little criminal. Today he was making a point of spending one on one time with all of their children and he'd be damned if Rothe got out of it.
"I think I saw him in Iamel's room," Penny put in helpfully as she continued to draw...on the wall. The things that little girl did was beyond the feline's comprehension and he stopped straight in his tracks.
"Clean the wall up or I'll lock you in the room with Dax." Mordread said, brushing past her and heading off to their eldest son's room. He had no doubt that Penny would get right on cleaning up her mess. Dax was something that scared that girl to absolutely no end.
"ROTHE?!"
A pale, black haired head popped out of the woodpecker's room and narrowed his eyes at his father. Iamel wasn't here and he was exercising the oppurtunity to snoop around. "Huh?"
"We're going to spend time together today!" Mordread said, cheerful to the last drop about it. The prospect of spending time alone with the ex slaver made Mordread's skin crawl but he figured he owed it to him. He was, after all, his son. He hadn't had to take him, but he did.
"No." Rothe responded, shutting the door and toddling his way back into his brother's private space. Maybe he could find something incriminating and then blackmail him for the rest of his life! Not that he could talk much at the moment. The confines of being a child were really quite annoying...
"Yes," the feline insisted, throwing the door open and bending down to pick up the toddler, "And there's no way you can get out of it. What do you want to do?"
Kill you, Rothe thought, a sick smile coming to his young face. Unfortunately the most he could do was trip Mordread on the stairs next time that he had a chance. Or jam a block down his throat - but that wasn't full proof. Since he couldn't very much let his guardian in on his sinister plans, Rothe simply stared him down. If he didn't answer, they didn't have to do anything, right?
"All right, fine. If you don't have any ideas, I have plenty! How about playing dress up?"
The look on Rothe's face was priceless as he stared at Mordread, attempting to squirm his way out of the man's arms. Dress up? Him? In FEMALE Clothes? Never! He was not a Plythor* for christ sakes!
"I thought not. Tell me what you'd like to do?"
Staring at Mordread with a slight disdainful look on his face, Rothe growled out, "Legos."
Truth be told Rothe actually enjoyed building things and working with his hands. Not that he'd ever admit it. His pride wouldn't allow him to enjoy anything that was actually productive to someone other than himself and his minions. Oh no, this was just to indulge the old man.
"Legos it is, come on kiddo."
*Plythor: A male who wears clothes of a class lower than he is. A cross dresser. Highly derogatory in his world.
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:44 pm
Patrick, Gone? Psycho Mordread.
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:44 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:46 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:47 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2006 9:48 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2007 3:20 pm
-Because It's taken me so long to update everything, and I lost all the solos I'd written for this journal due to a database crash on my laptop, I'm just going to post this summing up what's happened!
~Mordread has been trying to get along without Patrick. He's been doing a good job with one little flaw - his kids have found he's a pushover lately. Because of this, Rothe's been coercing him into buying him shiny things - including a new whip which he constantly tortures the cat with by snapping it at him (even if he never has it touch him)
~In one small act of parenting, Mordread's tried to get Rothe into school (online course) along with Dax. Dax is actually doing decently....Rothe not so much.
~Rothe and Kian had a 'heart to heart' in which Kian royally pissed Rothe off.
~Rothe has started reading a lot about the old days of slavery on "Earth" and has decided that they were idiots.
~Rothe's become used to sleeping in late (due to really no parenting on Mordread's part) and slacking off on homework...and actually going to school. When he DOES go to classes (His are after Dax's as they have to share Mordread's laptop) he spends the day looking up nifty torture devices and calculating how much money he'd have to wheedle out of his father for them. He's started keeping a little journal under his mattress.
~Rothe has actual affection for some of his siblings. He (secretly) adores Leigh and Gabe, the husky twins. God knows why...He seems to like babies a bit more than he'd like to admit. The two sets of twins in his family have grown on him. He's yet to be caught with them, though, and wants to keep it that way.
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