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 Posted: Thu Feb 22, 2007 7:24 pm
[No x Mpaji~]
After finally eating, it seemed high time the black lioness finally tried her hand at some sleep. It didn’t come easy at first- largely because it was still daylight out and figures moved themselves about at their leisure. But in her mind she told herself that this was the most logical, and profitable time for her to rest. At night she could slip about and listen. She was good at night. In the day, she stuck out like an oil spill on the sand.
But even then sleep did not want to relinquish itself to her. She shifted and rubbed herself against a rather uncomfortable rock. A lizard crawled over her paw and she slapped it away. She moved to a cooler section when the sun started to peek through the rock crevasses. It seemed only when she was finally at her most bitter that the dark creature finally fell into a slumber.
When she awoke, it was still daylight, but it felt like some time had passed. No lifted herself from the rocks and stretched, her jade green eyes fluttering about once or twice to look at the scattered figures that dappled the slave quarters.
Perhaps now was the time to get to buisness...
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Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 2:06 pm
Mpaji was weaving in and out of the slaves, his eyes set all around him. He never was where he was 'supposed' to be, because he belonged to Motomilia, personally, and she, well, wasn't really much of a slave owner. He was to be Kimeti's personal, but those tides had quickly changed and it had never come to be. It did not matter to Upendo'Mpaji, for he was perfectly content to serve under the red Firekin, and found some sort of crazed notion of love for her. He thought of her not as a master, but as a mother, and she seemed to give the same prospects back to him. Except now she had children of her own, with that b*****d, whatever his name was. He wasn't worthy of the Firekin title, and Mpaji could only hope that Kwana would return to claim the throne.
It didn't look like that was happening anytime soon. He wasn't sure why the sister had been banished, or, in fact, what reasons Motomilia had for her return. All he had was brief meetings, and memories, that swam in his forever youthful mind. For no matter how much his body grew to become the huge stature it was now, his mind would forever remain that playful youth that had pounced Motomilia in the sands of their journey.
Love, it wasn't even on his mind, nor was rebellion, for, he supposed, he never had been a true slave. That wasn't to say he didn't get the cold treatment from the other Firekin, but being larger than them by some magnomentous stroke of luck, they tended to leave him alone. Then again, word might also have quickly spread that he served under Motomilia, and he was sure that in some ways, that name still held some semblence of power.
He was a strange slave. He liked the Firekin, their strong and bold ways. He did not, however, like Kimeti, or any of his offspring. He had a sense of heightened respect for Kwana, for she had some faith in him, even as a slave, and her sharp tongue kept him in a young awe. She was cool, and cold, the way he could never be, and she seemed to respect him, while at the same time, showing nothing but bitterness. It was a strange conflict.
Lost in his thoughts, he spied a dark figure, lying on the edge of what was the slave world. He stopped, taking in what he could of her. Everything about her seemed wrong, the way she moved, watched. It didn't seem like slave ways. He'd seen them, lived with them, talked to them. He knew what slaves were, and there was a certain flash in her body, as though she had a secret she didn't want to share. Sure, the slaves had their rebellious thoughts, but none ever lived for a second on that promise.
She seemed to be pulsating with it.
He dared to venture over to her, trying to keep suspicious behavior to a minimum. "You're going to be beaten with a look like that," he told her solemnly when he was close enough. He should have been, many times. He spoke the words on his tongue without any thoughts of what might happen to him. So far, nothing, but he tested his limits. Perhaps he didn't love the Firekin so much as he said.
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Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 6:04 am
As she peered about her surroundings, she couldn’t help but feel a bit dizzy for a moment. The darkness and light were so stark in these places- and the shade of the cave seemed only to emphasize the bright pooling light from the midday sun. She couldn’t see the figure approach at first, and had rested her head to consider where to go next. But when it spoke- she remembered where it was she was heading.
No slid a cool green eye in the voices direction. It was a male- she could tell from his color that he wasn’t a firekin, but she could not recall if he had been one of the sleeping lumps since she had arrived. She was glad though, that someone had spoken first. She was getting a feel for her speech pattern- and she was quickly finding that in terms of conversation, she was an opportunist. The lioness leaned forwards on the rocks, and pricked her ears.
“Will I?” She smoothed. Probably, actually- depending on who ran into her. She reposed herself back, as if to consider it, and crossed her paws.
“I’m not afraid of a strike. Are you?” She dared.
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Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 11:33 am
Upendo'Mpaji didn't need to tell her twice. He knew she understood, so all he could do was watch her with pale blue eyes and smile. He had no reason to grin, except that his mind was full of wonderful memories. Most of them made here, though not in the slave lands. Was it possible that he held himself high above them? He felt himself a Firekin as well? All but the one had showed him some semblence of longing to be him, know him, but they couldn't in this day and age. He was slave, they were Firekin. Now, one of 'his own kind' looked up to him with a bit of distaste.
Or was it that? Mpaji narrowed his eyes, the way youth did towards friends and mothers, trying to decipher just what lay in those green gems that watched him so carefully. He could make out little from what he first perceived, and found himself quite unable to answer with the same cool determination. Something about her made you stop, and wish to keep her voice from speaking. Not with a cool retort, because that would send her glaring down on you in heated battle of words - which he was sure to lose, but of an honest nature. Wasn't that what they all wanted, honesty?
He should hope so. So far, he'd gotten it, from most.
His ears inched back as she asked him the question, his brows lifting slightly.
"I don't strike," he told her simply. Whether large or not, he simply had no notion of violence, it didn't exist in his blood stream. Others left him alone, it was a blessing, it was he who always made the first move. As it was today.
"Yet, you're sulking about on the edge of the slave quarters. Such quiet rebellion. . . someone is bound to see." He had, but there was time for him to watch and listen. The Blood were always busy with their things, the slaves busy carrying out those things. Perhaps he was the luckiest of them all. He sat down and peered at her curiously.
"What do you make of me?" he asked her suddenly. Again, a child's words, looking for that compliment that would boost his ego to the sky. He enjoyed it best when he carefully crafted it out from under the nose of the Firekin, but he didn't mind getting it from one who wasn't so highly taken. Afterall, from the look and sound of her, she was hard to impress.
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Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 12:00 pm
She hadn’t expected him to- although it did bring the surprising notion to her that some of slaves might actually have their own hierarchy from within their bindings. Oppression; wasn’t a good way to feel unoppressed to oppress others? It was a thought she hadn’t considered much, but she supposed it was not such an absurd idea. However, there did not seem to be all too many slaves with enough willpower to do such a thing.
But she would watch, just in case. If there was such a thing, she wanted to be on top of it. Both in knowledge- and on the hierarchal scale.
“I don’t mean to look so,” She corrected lightly. “But, maybe in the future I’ll not be so quiet.” No rose herself up, stretching out her young form. The male had asked a rather difficult question after that, and she waited a minute before answering. “I think you are a good slave for warning me,” She thrummed. Was it what he wanted her to say?
“You...you’ve served the firekin for long?” She asked quizzically.
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Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 5:14 pm
They never did mean to look that way. The cubs, they automatically bowed down. He supposed that was why they liked them so young. The adolescents, defiance was in their nature, they gave the looks more often. The were struck down in the same fashion.
"Maybe in the future," Upendo ventured. "We will not have to so carefully hold our tongues." For even he had to watch himself. They bonded together, these Firekin, but there were some that looked upon him not as a slave, but something else. Was it right for them to have these views? Wasn't he the one that was beneath them all, and for them to treat him equality, well, it would promote love. Then the cross breeds would form.
Yet, they were formed, a product of malice, these cubs of the slaves. Quickly captured into a slave life, despite their colors. For they were born to their mothers, and not their fathers. It made him wonder, why did the Firekin not bear the slave's children? He wasn't around to witness such atrocities, and so he would not know.
"A good slave?" he asked, his his heart thumping. "Or a good friend?" Most slaves wouldn't have done what he had, the one's that he knew. A beating for someone else meant they could get away with a little bit more. He would have done it, if he were as small as they, and not under such a good ruler.
Now it was her turn to ask him a question that left his mind swimming. He couldn't answer that in truth, and Moto had told him to keep his mind about him. He just wasn't sure where that stopped.
"Motomilia brought me here as a cub. It took us many moons to reach, and I grew to what they call adolescence. Since then, I have remained in the land of The Blood." It was the best answer he could give her.
"And yourself?" he responded. "Not long, with a look like that. Or is it something you recently acquired."
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 5:05 am
“Maybe,” No uttered and looked towards the areas of light. It prickled her jaded eyes. “But does a good friend remain in servitude? You’ve been with them long enough to think you’re one of them. Do you?” She asked, her tail gently swaying. “We always know what we are. I don’t mean to say you’ve forgotten what you are doing here. But do you? Do you think of yourself as one of them?”
His questions fell to her, and No reposed herself somewhat to consider her answers. The truth was probably not the best course- but, she felt pained to otherwise deny her family. “I am newly come with the Prince-heir Kidondo.” She thrummed. “No- my life was spent elsewhere. I lived in a land of bones and grasses once. But I do not expect to return.”
Home! Was it really that long ago that she had been a girl getting into trouble? When she had ran off with Kidondo in the graveyard, her mother had spent two days looking for her before they had arrived home. Did they think of her any? They knew what it was she was doing. Did they worry? Oh! She worried. They did not need to worry- she worried enough for the lot of them.
But then, No dispelled the thoughts, and took her attention back at Mpaji. He had a connection here- but also a slave. Would he want freedom, she wondered? Or was he so attached he would not dare try?
And if he did think of himself as a firekin- was he willing to help them save themselves?
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 5:02 pm
Mpaji didn't know how to answer that. It wasn't a question he thought of, belonging anywhere. Belonging was having a family, something you forged. He did not have one of those, and never would, as far as he knew. Motomilia was his only 'family', and did that fact make him Firekin?
He gave her a smile as his answer, hoping she could decipher the meaning. "I am no Firekin," he told her, his head dropping down to watch the sand trickle between his toes. It was such a dreary day. Perhaps all the black on her body drained the energy from him. Where was the dangerous and childlike allure he had possessed only moments ago?
Replaced with shyness? Perhaps he did think of himself as Firekin. Not one of them, but a step above the slaves, not really fitting into their ranks.
He laughed, "Now you live in a land of bones and fire."
So she felt that she was destined to forever stay here? It saddened his heart to know this. Even if he did not have a place like hers to return, his mind still held some memory of a home, and not being able to go back to that place? Unfathomable.
The name Kidondo brought an unwanted scowl to his face, for it reminded him of Kimeti.
"Let us hope, the heir to the throne does not possess the dankess of his father," he granded, his blue eyes echoing what could have been hate, but it was surely something different.
Then, something seemed to change in him then, as though the spell that she'd woven over him broke. That broad grin returned to his face. "But I'm so very rude. I'm Upendo'Mpaji, and you would be?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 5:30 pm
A smile slipped across the black lioness’s face. He was right- this was a place of bones and fire. But there was much more; and it was steadily becoming something dear to her. She couldn’t quite place the other slave just yet- but surely, some part of this land meant something to him. He was raised here sure as any other firekin. Did the desert call to him as it was beginning to towards her? She was pleased to hear that he had discontempt towards the current leadership. And yet...how much was Kimeti to blame for this? How much was tradition, and how much was personal ambition?
“He does not,” The lioness thrummed rather proudly. “Great things will come from him, I am sure. But I think things will be hard first.” She continued her pale eyes fluttering to the side. Ripuka’s outburst had shown her that for sure. The traditionalists would not budge against Finar-Si. But who could blame them? They were so terrified and trained in the honor of a goddess who otherwise did not seem to care for them. Nothing in No’s life had shown her the existence of gods. She had come to realize that if such things existed- they were not coming to help anyone.
“But, I’m sorry- Mpaji?” She addressed, taking the familiar of his name. “I am No.”
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 5:54 pm
"I worry about great things," Mpaji said, with that strange seerness he seemed to be possessing as of now. "Traditionalists don't like them, and unlike slaves, they are fed off of power and hatred all their lives."
He had plotted it himself, several times, the freedom of all the slaves, putting himself in the heirarchical status, and in his mind, it all came down to one end. Slaves would still be kept, taken, beaten into saying they were 'family friends' or they would have to repay a debt the Firekin weaved out of them. It would take hundreds of years, and even then, the problem might not be solved.
No, he would rather see the world doomed. Those that wanted to save themselves, would, and if they were simply to proud, they could become one with the sands. They weren't the cursed, and nor was he, only the daughters and sons that come after. May The Blood pay for the mistakes they have made.
"As if things aren't already hard," he burned, turning in a circle, for he was still standing. He now faced the slave quarters, in their mingling. Some stopped to look, but most kept moving. What truly kept them at bay? Fear. That's what he'd been told, only he was too large and sheltered to know it.
"Come on," he said with a brief moment of inspiration. "Let's get out of here." He didn't have to stay here, not near all these others. "A walk is good for the mind." He just hoped she didn't feel obligated to remain, because he certainly wasn't turning back once he'd started walking.
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 6:21 pm
No was more cautious about going into the open then speaking so blamelessly in front of other slaves. But she decided to put some faith in Mpaji, and assume he would know more then she what could and could not be said around others. With a hop she left the small pedestal she had been sitting upon, and strolled beside him. “Alright,” The black cat thrummed.
After walking for a few seconds and considering her thoughts some, she started again. “I don’t think you can be afraid of great things simply because it takes more then a shove to get them moving.” She quieted before speaking again. “This may seem somewhat... absurd for me to say, I’m sure. But whether or not change happens relies very much on the people. They know things have been hard. And maybe nothing will change. But there is a will to change. And I think those who might have an ear for it should listen closely to what people say.”
“You’ve lived here most of your life. Maybe you hate them and maybe you’ve learned to care for them. But as things are- if you hate them, you will never be free. And if you care for them, they will never be yours. Isn’t that desire worth a change?”
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 6:42 pm
She was right, but he wasn't afraid. He'd never had much of a fear for other lions in his whole life, always speaking what came to mind.
With phrases like, 'You had to have done something rather stupid to get banished.'
The thought made him laugh. How long ago that childhood seemed now, yet, it was still so very close. He had to nod. "In some there is a will, in others, I'm not so sure. For myself. I would dearly love for change, yet I fear the distrust among The Blood will become so great after this, that perhaps, they will be their own undoing. For the slaves, life will be better. The traditionalists, and those not of The Blood that dare to stay? Mark my words, not as a threat, but as a hopefully disproved prophecy, death will be greater."
It is right to change, it is not right to create that change blindly. He only hoped No knew of these responsibilities and sufferances.
"I do not hate them, and I cannot care for them, no more than I can care for the rest of the world. If there is a rebellion, then I will surely take a stand. But it will be one to remain rooted here. There is but one adventure for me, and in the end, whether I love it or not, my bones will be buried here." He took a deep breath and shuddered. This was all so very stressfull. He'd never talked so much, or so deeply in his life. He'd always looked at the surface.
"Where will you be when and if it strikes?"
He had taken them far away from the slave quarters, far away from everything really. One could easily get lost in these sands, for they stretched into forever, yet he seemed to know where they were going. Even before he had finished talking, his body had settled into the sand, as if in some emphasis of being buried there.
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 7:19 pm
The black cat shook her head. “It’s bad luck to live without passion.” No mused. Was it something she believed in? Not the passion- bad luck. Someone had once told her that she was a warding of bad luck. So far as she’d seen, it hadn’t yet run true. “You have to care. If you don’t care, you don’t truly want them to live. And if you don’t hate them, then you can’t truly be free. If I’ve learned anything it’s that you can’t be both. You have to pick a side. You either love or hate. I don’t think it’s an unchanging thing. You can hate someone and love someone and hate them again. But I don’t believe you can ever truly love someone and hate someone at once.” She thrummed. “If your bones will be here, you should want them to be here. Not because it is what might be easier.”
“I can’t say much for the Blood.” She hushed. “But, trust me that I know things on the wind. There will be a chance to change- but the only way it will change is if people rise. If people don’t care- if they don’t care if they change, or not change- when things finally do change, they’ll wonder why they were not given the option to do something. Life likes to take control, I think.” Life had shown her that much so far.
“I can’t say.” She breathed. “I will be on the side of change no matter where it is. And I support the Prince. But whether on their feet or ours, something will happen soon, I fear. There won't be much time for apathy. You have to decide if you love or hate them. Find something to love, or find something to hate before it comes. So you'll know exactly what it is you want.”
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 8:02 pm
"Lucky for me," Mpaji said with a grin. "I don't believe in luck." He gave her a wink, and a smile, rising from the sand, finally feeling better. That meal he'd had earlier that day must have finally been kicking in. Or perhaps it was that No had enlightened something inside of him? Not that it wasn't already there, of course, she'd just helped it surface. Mpaji knew everything, he just needed some help every now and then.
"My bones will go where they go, I suppose. I can't much help that, only direct them. Like you said, life likes to take control, and mine, it does me rather well." It was true, the fates (which, of course, did not exist) dished him out a fitness level of 120, if there was such a thing. He was perfectly adapted to this world, living under the cover of servitude, while keeping the proud nobility of The Blood.
"I'll support whoever has the best head," he told her, in finality. "If that happens to be your little Prince, I hope by goly he doesn't decide to turn this overside lard of fat that is me into a fighting implement, becase I just won't do it. Games of the mind, perhaps, but feuds of the claw - count me terminated." He laughed again, as though this were something funny - or he were something funny. It didn't matter to him, he was on a roll.
"If what you say is true, little No, you shouldn't be fearing, you should be praying to that thing you call passion. And make sure you know who you can trust." He didn't say the last part as a statement of wisdom. Everyone knew you had to pick your persons carefully when it came to such times. He was telling her she could trust him. Whether she would or not? That was her choice in the end.
Guide, smile, and live.
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2007 12:24 pm
No smiled in an genuine, but subdued manner. “I wouldn’t dream of it. There are more ways to make change then with strength, although it will certainly come down to it, I fear.” The black cat uttered, and stared off into the distance. “But- you, don’t worry about what I’m talking about. Not yet anyways. Perhaps I speak too freely just yet. But I don’t think it will be long. Just listen, and know what you will do when change goes. Plenty of time to run in the confusion,” She suggested. “And plenty of time to stay and help. It all depends on you.”
“But, ah.” She frowned. “I do speak too freely, and I also am not doing a marvelous job of myself either. It’ll be getting late now, and I should be tending to my master.” The black cat’s head bowed towards the other slave, and she swayed her tail with a slight kink.
“I’m glad to meet you, Mpaji.”
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