A New Master [RP Thread - Complete]

[Isaac Vladimir]

(OOC: This was an RP thread meant for interaction between Nyarle and Chrest. Here are the last two posts made by both characters, at least to the best of my knowledge. Er...I might be missing Nyarle's last post actually...sorry.)

Nyarle

It had been a quiet and uneventful period of time in Las Noches – perfect for a feline lifestyle. Eventually, even she had been bored enough to seek other amusements in an effort to pass the time – venturing further away from the Palace on solo exploring trips that saw her absent for weeks, or sometimes hunting in the world of mortals.

Nyarle returned to the white clean corridors of the Palace, blood-smeared skirts fluttering about her legs, dragging a badly injured but still alive Hollow behind her. Her grip about its throat stopped any sound, but that didn’t prevent the big boar-shaped Hollow’s clawed feet scratching desperately at the smooth floor, trying to find a foothold so it could try and wrench its neck from her iron grip. It hadn’t found a foothold through the desert sands, and it was unlikely that it could find one now.

The tigress had found her victim skulking about the outer borders… and it had initiated the attack, rushing her in an effort to protect its territory. She had just killed and eaten, and was in no mood to devour yet another Hollow however appetising it looked. So she had brought it home for her Fraccions to enjoy.

Instead of heading straight to her rooms and delivering the still-scrabbling meal, she made a bee-line to the cafeteria to collect some red wine… and show off her newest catch. While waiting for the wine to be brought to her, the feline glanced around the cafeteria to see who was doing what. One presence she’d sensed but not seen was Chrest – Fraccion to her superior.

When her gaze dropped to the ground to check on the boar-Hollow, only then did she notice the lonely huddled pile of blankets next to the wall. Nyarle leaned against the counter, watching the heap with a slightly puzzled frown.

Other than making sure her Fraccion didn’t overstep the bounds of behaviour and invite retaliation, Nyarle didn’t see the need to concern herself with the habits of the other Espada. As such, she hadn’t known that Nova had been missing for some time – well, she did notice that her colleague’s assigned room was quieter than usual but marked it down to him similarly exploring the surroundings.

It must have been quite a long absence, seeing it reduced one of his Fraccion to this state.

Nyarle wandered over for a closer look, still dragging her catch. The youngling had no physical wounds, that was good. In Las Noches, being a Fraccion elevated a Hollow or Arrancar to a somewhat protected status. This was probably the reason why no-one had actually attacked the wolf-arrancar… though considering his condition, it would be anyone’s guess if he even would fight back.

A dainty bare foot moved the dog bowl out of the way – if anyone had given a pet’s food bowl to any of her Fraccion, she’d have skinned them – before the tigress settled down comfortably against the wall to examine the wine bottle, one leg draped over the boar-Hollow to keep it from escaping.

“Greetings, Septima’s fraccion.” She said aloud. Nyarle knew the wolf-arrancar’s name but still chose to address him as such, mainly to remind him that he was still a fraccion.

“I smell the distress around you. What has happened to Septima that you seek shelter here?”

Chrest Saitania

Chrest was drifting back and forth between asleep and awake. Just as he thought he might be able to get a bit of rest, the voices of those currently inside the cafeteria caught his attention and pulled him back from the brink of sleep. He didn't necessarily need to strain his ears to hear what everyone was saying, he could hear them all as clearly as if they were sitting right beside him. There were excited whispers and excited greetings for an Espada who had come into the cafeteria. If it had been his Master, then there wouldn't have been any such reaction, so he simply kept his eyes closed.

However, the scent of blood, the intangible taste of fear, reached him and roused his curiosity. One crimson-red eye slowly opened, glancing around the cafeteria for the source of all the excitement. That same eye widened just slightly as he spotted the Octava Espada near the center of the cafeteria. The tigress was holding a freshly caught Hollow in her claws and admiring a bottle of red wine. He thought back to when he had first served her and her Fraccion red wine. Drinks were one thing, but it was quite clear that she preferred to catch and kill her own food, which made perfect sense.

The wolf-Arrancar closed his eyes once more, content to rest rather than attempt to make conversation with a familiar face. But his ears picked up the sounds of solid footfalls, the sound of a body being dragged across the floor, and it was headed toward him. This time, he opened both eyes and looked up just as Nyarle took a seat on the floor beside him, pinning her catch with her legs. Had he been himself, he might have sat up in shock and bowed to the Espada, or he might have tried to shy away from her, but all that he could really manage in his weakened state was a curious expression.

Nyarle spoke to him while still admiring her bottle of wine. Chrest twitched when she addressed him as the Septima's Fraccion; he couldn't help it. But then again, since he didn't know what had happened for certain, it was still possible that he was the Septima's Fraccion, though there was also an equal chance that he wasn't. He didn't know, and it became apparent that Nyarle didn't know what had happened to her fellow Espada either as she asked him what had happened to cause him such distress. The Fraccion swallowed softly, unsure if he even had a voice left to use anymore.

“Gr...greetings...Nyarle-sama...” he rasped out, both surprised and grateful that he still remembered how to speak. “I wish that I...had an answer to give you...Nyarle-sama. But I'm afraid that I don't know...what has happened to my Master. He has been missing for several days now...and there hasn't been any news of him at all.”

If she hasn't heard anything, then...maybe he really is gone. Chrest felt himself losing any hope he might have had left, and he struggled to maintain what little composure he had left in front of Nyarle.

“The Cook who runs this kitchen was kind enough...to look after me. I do not think I am a Fraccion at this time, seeing as my Master...is still missing. Had it not been for the Cook, I think that I might have been in a much worse shape than I am right now. Really, Nyarle-sama, I don't know what I should do. Do you have any advice for a lowly beast like me...?”

In a highly uncharacteristic fashion, Chrest dragged himself up and pulled himself over, laying his head on Nyarle's thigh, resting his cheek atop her bloody white skirt. The cloth, though wet and fragrant with blood, felt rather soft against his skin, and he let his eyes fall closed. Perhaps he had needed to see a familiar, even friendly, face more than he would have thought. He nuzzled the tigress's leg, smiling a small smile for the first time in several long agonizing days.

Nyarle

Chrest responded to her question, soft and hesitant, his very voice declaring that he was unwell. It wasn’t in her nature to be overly concerned with anyone else’s health and he was not physically wounded, so Nyarle didn’t react to that. Instead, she watched him silently as the wolf-arrancar explained that Nova had been missing for days without leaving instructions, and so he feared the worst.

This explained why the distressed youngling sought shelter here, instead of remaining in the Septima’s set of rooms. And why he suddenly sought physical contact for comfort.

Even felines needed some reassurance once in a while, she imagined that canines as pack-predators required much more physical contact. At least this wolf-arrancar did. Quietly pondering on Chrest’s information and request for advice, she let him lie on her lap.

While he was right to be upset at his missing Master, the fact that he didn’t know what to do next was worrisome. The cat-arrancar mentally shook her head – that was the wrong way of going about things.

An elegant thumb broke off the top bit of the glass bottle – she found this method more efficient than trying to deal with the cork - and began sipping the wine appreciatively.

“Firstly, puppy, that is a lowly beast. Prey.” Nyarle murmured, pointing the wine bottle at the still-pinned boar hollow – which in turn mustered enough strength to glare back. “You are not prey, so stop acting like one. The next time you are given a pet food bowl, rip their throat out for the insult.”

She paused for a moment to consider where Nova could be, and tried to sense his presence in the area surrounding the Palace. Nothing. How curious.

“I leave on hunting trips too. Perhaps Septima is away on a private mission and is unable to leave instructions. There has been no announcement otherwise and so he remains Septima and you his Fraccion.”

A golden gaze flickered down to the dark-haired canine on her lap. “You can remain his Fraccion and wait. Or you can leave and be your own master, or seek a new leader.”

“A successful hunt is knowing what and where to seek. What do you want, puppy?”

Chrest Saitania

The sharp snap of glass breaking above him caused Chrest's wolf-ears to twitch. He didn't need to look up at Nyarle to know that the Espada had simply snapped the top off of the wine bottle and was now sampling her drink. She had done the same thing once before, when he had served her and her Fraccion wine at a small gathering of sorts. Crimson-red eyes glanced at the boar Hollow as Nyarle informed him that it was a lowly beast and he was not. Somewhere in his mind, that made sense; he knew that he was certainly better than this particular boar.

“Forgive me, my Lady,” he spoke softly, seeing no need to speak loudly given his close proximity to the Espada, “but it is not in my nature to harm someone who has shown me kindness. True, it might be an insult when someone expects you to eat from a dog bowl, but such a trivial thing doesn't merit death. I think, just this once, I will let it slide.'

“After all, the Cook does cater to all of Las Noches. Instead, I will simply stop eating from the bowl and start eating the right way...” Chrest finished softly, vaguely wondering if he would even have the necessary appetite to eat at all after this encounter with the tigress.

Nyarle's voice sounded so sure, so utterly true, when she announced that he was still his Master's Fraccion, even if that Master was not around at present. She gave him a list of options that he could do until Nova returned, or that he could do regardless if Nova returned or not. When she asked what he wanted to do, it was as if his mind went blank. As hard as he thought about it, he simply could not remember anyone ever asking him that question. No one had ever really cared about what he wanted, and he wasn't entirely sure that Nyarle cared, but she had still tried to motivate him.

The thought of leaving Nova's service made him sad. But the tigress was correct; there were other options open to him. Perhaps it was not a bad thing to strive for his own personal benefit, instead of giving everything of himself to others. Nevertheless, having to make a decision weighed heavy on his heart. He closed his eyes, and mulled over the options in his mind during the silence. Several minutes later, the wolf-Arrancar nuzzled his new Master's leg in an affectionate gesture.

“Nyarle-sama, everything you have said is true, and I am grateful to have been given your words,” he lifted his head, a smear of blood from Nyarle's skirt staining his cheek, and smiled up at her, “If you would have me, I would like to be in your service from now on as a new Fraccion. I can start by washing the blood out of your skirt.”

Nyarle

The puppy had decided to spare the ‘nice’ Cook this one time. Golden eyes flickered towards the Hollow in question speculatively, wondering if she should interfere instead. But no, it was not her fight.

For a predator living in a world where the strong kill the weak, Chrest was overly nice, and that could perhaps cause problems in the future. At least his distress was calming down, which was good. There was something disconcerting about a seeing a predator in this state.

He suddenly nuzzled her leg again and offered his services as a Fraccion. The cat-arrancar looked down at the puppy smiling hopefully at her, watching him for several long minutes while considering matters.

It was always nice to have another set of strong fangs in her pack, and he had experience adapting to the teamwork required from a Fraccion. But the most obvious concerns were that the youngling was not a feline and his confidence needed improvement.

Predators definitely did not worry about inconsequential things like laundry. Plus… she liked the blood on her skirt – it added a sweet fragrance and looked stylish!

Maybe… was it even possible to teach the puppy how to think like a cat?

“Strong fangs are always welcome in the pack.” Nyarle finally replied, a slight smile curving her lips as she continued to fix her gaze onto the youngling. “Along with an assertive mind and independent spirit.”

“I indulge my Fraccion, who are free to act or kill or punish as they please. The only demands I place are loyalty to me and the pack, and respect towards the other Fraccions or Espada.”

The cat-arrancar transferred the wine bottle to her other hand, and reached down to ruffle one wolf-ear.

“If you would have me, then become stronger and fiercer. I would have a predator, not a trained pet. Do you agree, puppy?”

...

Nyarle

Nyarle listened to her newest Fraccion’s various responses to her statements, and it was clear that he was much more moderate in thought and actions. She supposed one had to be when their rank and strength did not truly protect them from the surrounding predators.

Being an Espada had spoiled her somewhat; she had very quickly gotten used to the level of comfort and obedience the rank offered in leisurely times.

Her eyes brightened as Chrest talked of his abilities, truly interesting ones which she would like to see for herself sometime. Anything using death to bring death was something which her bloodthirsty nature appreciated as a true work of art.

Then the Fraccion did something unexpected…he asked her about the decorations. The cat-arrancar blinked, then a slow smile curved her lips. It was a daring move to ask this personal question, and such a far cry from the desolate timid creature she had found on the food hall floor.

The wolfling was showing confidence, and it was a very good thing. And as she had promised to answer any questions, he deserved a true answer.

“Indeed, my rooms reflect a Palace when Egypt was a power to be feared. My influence helped shape Royal decisions, but I was not a Princess or Queen. I saw it as my due, rightfully mine for services rendered.” Nyarle murmured almost casually, reaching behind the pillows she rested upon to retrieve a bottle of red wine which was then tossed across to Chrest.

“I was given to the Temple of Isis as a child. The priests always needed servants and temple dancers. Even then, servants needed to see. When the priests were about to send me back, the Goddess blessed me with Sight and I began to read dreams and hearts. I was allowed to remain in the Temple.” The cat-arrancar continued, as if telling a bedtime story.

“Soon, kings and nobles sought me to read their dreams, and with it the Goddess’ blessing for their plans. It was foretold that one young and rash Pharoah’s plan for war would not succeed, but he would not listen. He demanded that I declare its success on threat of execution.”

Nyarle smiled to herself, almost absently. “I offered my services when the fires began, and was accepted. When the false war started, there were many deaths and I helped my Goddess protect the newly dead.”

She stretched, luxuriously, then turned to look at Chrest with half-lidded eyes. “The old gods were slowly replaced by new beliefs, yet the Pharoah’s treasures remain as well as my gifts.”

“Does that satisfy your question, youngling?”

Chrest Saitania

From the very beginning of her tale, he was silently fascinated. Somehow, speaking with a person who had lived in a time long before he was ever born was an enlightening and interesting experience. She had seen a world which he had only read about as a child. She had lived in an age that he couldn't possibly hope to comprehend, but he was still curious nevertheless. To his pleasant surprise, she shared more with him, the intimate details of her human life, than he had been expecting.

As Nyarle casually tossed the wine bottle over to him, he deftly caught it in his left hand. He knew she intended for him to open it and so he did, crushing the top of the bottle off so that it had a jagged opening from which they could drink the wine inside. Smiling his gratitude, he raised the bottle to his lips and took a long, hearty drink, lowering the bottle once again with a content sigh. He then passed the now-opened bottle back to his new master.

In his mind, he recounted everything she had told him. She had been born in Egypt, in the time of the Gods, given to the Palace of Isis as a child. She had been blessed with what she called Sight, and she foretold the futures of Kings and Nobles alike. But that age had faded, and now Nyarle held its relics inside her room, which in itself was like the Palaces that had existed in her human life. The wolf turned his head, gazing around at the various artifacts with silent appreciation and respect. When he felt the Tigress's eyes on him again, he looked back at her, meeting her half-lidded eyes with his own.

“Yes, Nyarle-sama, thank you,” he replied, smiling as he bowed his head forward in gratitude, though he did suddenly feel remorseful that she had told him so much about her human life and she knew nothing about him other than his abilities.

“Your past...is something that I cannot claim to understand, but it sounds truly amazing. To have been gifted with Sight, and read the future for those who held authority during that age...fascinating,” Chrest raised his head, his smile still in place. “My human life wasn't nearly so glamorous, but I wouldn't feel right knowing your past if you knew nothing of my own, so if you will allow me...I would like to tell you about it.'

“I was born into minor nobility, the family of Saitania. I was the youngest of four children, all boys, so I had three older brothers. Our family was cursed. Every time our father married and the wife bore a child, the mother would die shortly after. My brothers and I all had different mothers, and our father wasn't the most...affectionate parent. Perhaps he resented us, thinking that we had been responsible for our mothers dying...”

Chrest looked at nothing in particular, his gaze focused on something far away, on the past. “My family wasn't really close. My brothers picked on me, our father never had time for us, even on birthdays and things like that. When I was still little, I realized I could see monsters. It wasn't until I died that I realized they were Hollows. I was scared, but father promised that they couldn't hurt me. He lied, of course.'

“My father was keeping Hollows locked up in our basement so that he could research them. Needless to say, the Hollows weren't happy about that. Then...one night...” he trailed off, closing his eyes as he rested his chin on his hand. “My father had gone mad. He murdered our maid and her younger sister. I couldn't take it... The Hollows escaped, killed my father, went after my brothers, and finally me... But I was already dead by the time they came for their revenge.'

“I will never forgive myself for their deaths, but...I suppose it was inevitable. There was never anything I could do to stop it. Perhaps it was only right that I became the very thing that my father was trying to understand, the very thing that killed us all,” he paused, staring at the Hollow hole in his wrist, his crimson-red eyes deepening to scarlet as he narrowed them. “Fate is a cruel mistress, but I cannot deny that I am glad she stole my pathetic human heart away.”

'Yes, that's right. I must shed this abhorrent weakness and become strong. Then I will not be forced to find a new home, a new pack, every time I fail to bare my fangs.'

“I do apologize for such an unpleasant story, Nyarle-sama,” he murmured gently, looking back at the Espada, “But I'm afraid such is the truth of my human existence. I was weak then, nothing more than a helpless child. I found the instinct to survive in this life, but I need so much more work to become someone worthy of your presence...of anyone's presence here in this hallowed palace. You have my word that I shall try as hard as I can, even if I go beyond my limits and break.”

Chrest listened with rapt attention as Nyarle spoke to him again. Her wisdom astounded him. Whether or not her words were the truth, he accepted them as the truth, and found that she could not have been more correct where Fate was concerned. Occasionally, he did need to remind himself that everyone starts out weak. But it is their choice to become stronger or remain weak throughout their lives, assuming they lived long at all.

The Espada tossed the bottle to him again, and he caught it in one hand, around the broken neck. A few hours ago, he would not have believed it were possible for him to find himself sitting here with the Octava, sharing a drink, and discussing each others' personal lives. But that was exactly what he was doing now. He supposed he still had trouble wrapping his head around that. The golden necklace around his throat caught his eye, and he smiled, taking a considerable drink from the bottle.

“Yes, Nyarle-sama,” he answered, after lowering the bottle again. “I was successful in murdering the Hollows who killed my family. It is complicated. My dad imprisoned them. When they broke free, they sought revenge for his experimentation. Yet when they killed my father and brothers, I killed them for taking away everything from me. Revenge is such a vicious cycle, and I don't care for it. But I guess I just didn't see why my brothers and I had to die when we never did anything wrong, that's all.”

Nyarle assured him then that he would grow stronger, that he had already begun down that path. She accepted his promise to become stronger for her, and he found himself pleased with that. However, the wolf took her warning to heart, and reminded himself that she was entirely correct; there is no use for a broken pawn who cannot serve its intended purpose. It would doubtlessly be replaced. This led him to wonder if perhaps his former master had already replaced him, not a comforting thought. But at least he had found someone new to serve.

“I understand,” he said, smiling across at the Espada. He then stood up, bottle in hand, and crossed to where Nyarle lay on the furs. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down beside her and offered the bottle back to her, before resting his head on her shoulder. Her skin was warm, reeking of blood from the boar Hollow. “You have a fondness for teasing others, don't you, Nyarle-sama?” he inquired. “I still remember you teasing me when we first met and I still belonged to the Septima.”

 

[Unicorn]

The wolfling acknowledged her warning to not break, and she nodded to herself. It remained to be seen if he let this statement guide him in future actions, or would he extend his teeth too far and pay the price? But Chrest had survived for so long already, both as a Hollow and a Fraccion. There was no need to treat him like a newborn puppy.

Nyarle gazed out at the tumbling fountain absently, relaxing further into the bearskin. Just a little while ago, the wolfling was a timid lost creature. Now he was promising to become stronger. It was very good to see the predator emerging, and there was no reason to doubt this newfound conviction. However only he could test and refine his own limits; it would be quite interesting to see what type of wolf-arrancar emerged from this promise.

Her new Fraccion moved nearer to lay against her shoulder, offering the half-finished wine bottle. She sighed quietly at the contact, a brief contented sound, before taking a long drink.

At Chrest’s newest question, an eyebrow quirked upwards in curiosity. But she didn’t turn her gaze away from the fountain.

“Tease?” She purred, savouring the word in some amusement. “No, I do not… tease. It was a mere greeting, insignificant, yet unexpected. With this, you see who I may truly be, and your reaction shows me the personality you are.”

Nyarle chuckled lightly. “I love the surprise on their faces. How they struggle not to react, or glance at me strangely. Those who do dare to look askance at me, but are not Espada, they are less afraid of rank or strength. I take special note to watch their presences.”

She reached up to caress Chrest’s hair. “You too have walked long across this land, little wolf. By what methods do you judge people?”

 

[Isaac Vladimir]

Chrest Saitania

Nyarle's sigh trickled down into his ears, the wolf ears which then gently flicked backward and settled down flat against his hair, showing that he too was content with the contact and the warmth. Both ears slowly perked back up as Nyarle answered him. Her answer made perfect sense, as did almost everything else she had said to him since coming back to this room. He accepted it for what it was, and gave a quiet sound of contentment as the Espada caressed his hair. It felt nice.

Little wolf? Well, at least that sounds slightly better than puppy...

“While your method makes perfect sense, mine is...” he paused, searching for the correct word, “mine is perhaps based on selfishness alone. I judge others based on whether or not they are cruel to me at first meeting. If so, then I dislike them. I don't want to be around them. Then there are those like yourself, who are kind, or at least not cruel. I like those who are kind, and desire their company, even don't mind serving them. It's all selfish and unfair, I suppose...”

 

[Unicorn]

The wolfling’s comment made her pause thoughtfully. Kind? It was an odd choice of phrase, considering it wasn’t a word commonly used to describe most of the Espada. Especially not her.

The golden gaze fell on the captured boar Hollow, still bound to the pillar, and her lips curved slightly in a smile. Having endured capture and the drag back to the Palace, the fact it was still conscious was a credit to its strength. Perhaps if it had been left alone, it could have grown in strength to be a contender at the Palace.

But now it was at the Palace, very much against its will, intended for an entirely different destiny.

“Kind, little wolf?” Nyarle purred, tasting the word as it rolled past her lips, then shook her head with a soft rustle of hair. “No. I have taken you in to serve as Fraccion, however others may consider breaking your neck as a kindly act to end your suffering. To each its own.”

An elegant bare foot lifted and pointed towards the captured boar. “In its eyes, I am utterly cruel for prolonging its agony by capture. In my eyes, I wished to bring a gift to my pack.”

Her little smile widened just a little. “Perhaps it is a little unfair that I crossed its path today, but as long as the disadvantage is not mine, I shall remain pleased.”

The cat-arrancar abruptly rolled over to lie chest-to-chest with her newest wolf fraccion, her nose inches away from his.

“Being kind is a weakness. The hesitation which determines the difference between life, or death. Or being captured as prey.”

“It is a selfish world, little one, where the choice is held by the better predator. Why should you not wish to decide the outcome?”

 

[Isaac Vladimir]

Chrest Saitania

At Nyarle's next words, it suddenly dawned on Chrest that she was both learning things about him and trying to teach him new things as well. Not that he minded, really. He hadn't exactly gotten very far in his life by doing things his own way. The only thing worthwhile that it had gained him was Nyarle taking him in as a Fraccion, and so he didn't mind her trying to alter his way of doing and thinking about things. Nyarle lifted her foot and pointed at the wild boar Hollow, and Chrest's red eyes rose and followed, staring at the Hollow.

Up until that moment, he had not even been aware that Hollows had feelings. Well, of course he knew they felt things, but...he had forgotten that even Hollows had feelings worth taking into account. Nyarle was right; the boar probably hated and despised her, and hated them both while they lay on the bed of furs while it writhed in agony and slowly bled to death from its wounds. Somehow, Chrest couldn't bring himself to feel any pity for the creature. It was simply the boar's poor luck that it had become the prey for Nyarle's hunt, and soon to be meal for her pack.

Just as he slowly looked away from the boar, he felt movement and all too suddenly, he found himself laying underneath the Espada, their chests pressed together, their noses only mere inches away from touching, red eyes staring up into golden brown. Chrest did not move even a single muscle, nor did he look away, for he was unsure of what Nyarle meant to do to him. She spoke, apparently trying to teach him yet another lesson he would need for surviving in their world, and his ears twitched atop his head as he quietly listened to each word carefully.

Kindness was weakness. Hesitation could lead to death in an instant. The world was selfish, and the strong decided the fate of the weak. He was the little wolf, and she was the predator who would decide his fate, and yet, she wanted him to decide his fate for himself. For a long moment, Chrest felt his mind spinning, unable to grasp onto the situation or make any decisions.

Even though she was above him and could end his life in an instant, he wasn't actually afraid that she would really harm him. She was merely trying to teach him to...to what? Stand up for himself? Act selfishly and save his own life? Decide his own fate, despite whatever Nyarle wanted of him? Chrest's expression was not one of fear, or surprise, or pleading, or shock, as he continued to stare up at her, his mind finally beginning to work as he thought about what to say or do in this situation. Finally, his lips curved into a smile, and he was smiling up at her.

“I understand, Nyarle-sama,” he said, smile still in place, “I understand what you're trying to teach me, and it all makes sense. It is the way of our world, and it always has been. Perhaps, if given the time, this little wolf will grow up to be the predator he needs to be, in order to survive here and serve you. But, in the meantime, kindness has served me well, as it leads others to assume that I am no threat, and so they easily forget about me. That might be to my advantage some day.”

At last he moved, one hand gently taking hold of Nyarle's hand, before bringing her hand to up to lay a small kiss on the back of her hand, before he smiled up at her again. “All I can promise you for now is that I will do the best that I can, and I shall strive to never disappoint you. I hope that's enough,” he said.

 

[Unicorn]

Her newest Fraccion wasn't afraid as she abruptly lay atop him in a clearly dominant position, easily able to pick out a jugular vein or break something if she fancied it.

Good. He didn't twitch or startle. The young wolf had a strong spirit underneath that mild exterior, and once he properly developed his confidence, it would be great for him and for her team. It also meant that he was taking her advice so far to heart - indeed, the one currently in her room was unrecognisable from the unhappy creature she'd found in the cafe, the difference was so great.

He even acknowledged to be a better predator and made a promise to do his best - coupled with a gentlemanly kiss on her hand.

Nyarle purred briefly at that unexpected gesture.

But it was something else the wolfling said that caught her interest. The cat-arrancar gazed down at Chrest, head tilted slightly, expression contemplative.

Kindness led others to believe he was no threat, and that served as an advantage.

Having once been young and weak, she had known to stay hidden and only take prey from beings weaker than herself. Those encounters have had always been a straight ambush-and-kill, the only advantage was that she was stronger and faster than the small Hollows eaten to stay alive and grow.

As she grew stronger, the amount and size of prey she could kill increased, and she stopped having to stay hidden in favour of openly stalking her targets. It was her nature to be a predator, and the thought of covering herself in branches to stay hidden while hunting didn't even flash across her mind.

This concept was something she had never considered, kindness as a weapon, a form of camouflage. But perhaps it was something she could learn, to also improve herself whilst her Fraccion did the same thing.

"Doing your best is always sufficient." Nyarle agreed softly to Chrest's promise, but didn't move to immediately roll off him. Instead, she continued gazing down at him thoughtfully for a few long minutes before using her arms to lift her torso off and curl gracefully into a sitting position beside Chrest.

"This... kindness, using kindness as an advantage, for camouflage. It is new to me. Tell me more."

It was a quiet question, where the speaker wasn't used to admitting she didn't know things. However, she wasn't arrogant enough to dismiss the opportunity to know more about different things.

 

[Isaac Vladimir]

Chrest Saitania

It gladdened the young wolf to see that his master seemingly approved of his actions; that he had not overstepped his boundaries by kissing her hand, and that she did not seem inclined to harm him for falling short of her expectations. Indeed, it was quite the opposite; Nyarle informed him that his best would be sufficient for the time being, to which Chrest gave a soft nod of his head to signify his understanding of her words. However, he could not help but notice that Nyarle was staring at him, rather thoughtfully, as if something he'd said had puzzled her.

After a few silent moments, the Espada sat up and moved off of him, seating herself beside him. No longer pinned beneath his master, Chrest assumed that it was all right for him to sit up as well, but just as he was propping himself up on his elbows, he heard Nyarle speak, asking him to explain what he'd meant earlier when he spoke of using his own kindness as a weapon, or rather, as a way of fooling others. Ah, so that's what she was thinking about, he thought quietly, before moving to sit up as well, stretching his arms high above his head while he sat with his legs now crossed.

Honestly, it was no real surprise to Chrest for Nyarle to ask such a thing. She was not like him, and he was not like her. They operated in different ways, and it was easy to assume that they might have some difficulty understanding each other's ways. He sat quietly for a few moments, trying to think of some way to properly explain so that Nyarle would understand. He didn't want to confuse her more, or make a mess of explaining himself. After a moment, he let himself fall backward so that he was laying again on top of the pile of furs, nestled in their softness, staring at the ceiling above, his arms now resting over his stomach.

“Well...” he said, blinking, still trying to organize his thoughts, “I suppose a lot of us in this world are conditioned to see kindness as a weakness. It makes others believe that the kind person is weak, no threat to them, almost as if they aren't worth noticing or paying heed to. But perhaps that kindness is...as you said, a disguise. Once you believe they are no threat, that will probably lead you to lower your guard, and then that person, who actually isn't kind, but deceiving, could, say...stab you in the back, and do serious damage that you never thought they would be capable of.'

“Everyone here believes I am no threat to them, both because I seem weak, submissive, and because I often display kindness when interacting with others. The truth of the matter is, I am not weak or powerless. I have some margin of strength, enough that I can rightly assume a place as a Fraccion. I simply prefer not to make enemies out of those who are more powerful than myself. A kind approach, submissive gestures, and I can stand beside them as an ally, rather than worrying about when I might possibly die at their hand.”

Chrest turned his head, his garnet eyes glancing up at Nyarle. “Did that...make any sense, Nyarle-sama? Or have I only succeeded in confusing you all the more?”

 

[Unicorn]

Nyarle watched the wolfling explain his thoughts, working through different examples to better illustrate to her what using kindness as a camouflauge really meant.

His second example about using kindness to retain allies and avoid offending enemies was valid. In their world based on survival of the fittest, it was sensible to avoid offending others because they might have more powerful masters that may opt to crush any perceived insults.

Like the cook giving Chrest food in a dog bowl, and her pleasurable contemplations at disembowelling him for the dishonour.

His first example was... a lovely example of court politics.

Chrest Saitania
“Did that...make any sense, Nyarle-sama? Or have I only succeeded in confusing you all the more?”

Nyarle shook her head, long hair softly rustling across her shoulders.

"No confusion. The first example you described is a common practice in the ancient Egypt courts - those who wish to increase their power and influence. These... snakes... will befriend and persuade the gulllible to cast aside your beliefs for the 'greater' good, which of course is what they personally wish."

She stared into the tumbling fountain. "Advisors to the Pharoah, would-be Ministers, Priests... anything to gain an advantage over others will be used. That was how I was drawn in long ago, when I only wished to be left alone to See what the Goddess showed me."

"A country had refused to trade because the payment was not agreeable. Advisors and Ministers convinced the Pharoah that it was an insult and should be severely punished, but they only had to offer more payment. I was told that the Pharoah wished the support of my Goddess, but I could not offer what was not there. First gold was offered, then death. The apple or the stick."

The cat arrancar grinned briefly before stretching and laying back down on the furs. "Beware of anyone offering an easy choice between your own beliefs and a 'good outcome' ", my young Wolf. Only when you see a match with the two, then you may agree without hesitation because your heart will be whole instead of divided. Otherwise... choose the path you are happiest with."

"Your second example. Kindness to allies and to avoid conflicts is a good strategy, but overly conservative for my tastes. Perhaps I can be more... kind, but submissiveness would take some consideration."

A golden gaze turned towards the captured boar. It had put up a good struggle and was likely beginning to resign itself to its fate, but she doubted that it would have given up yet. Such strength should be respected.

When still a young weak hollow, she remembered having given up kills and fled fights with those stronger than herself. But that was attributed to survival not submissiveness - to stay and defend would be fatal.

"There are only ten Espada ranks, young one. There are many hollows and arrancar eager to hold such an esteemed position, and with the perceived strength enough to try. There are also enemies that are seeking to thin our ranks down for various reasons. Any sign of submissiveness may not be advantageous to me, as more may be prompted to take me down..."

She smiled, a sharp white grin that was part mirth and part bloodlust. "But, such challenges could provide good hunting opportunities for me, so perhaps I should not begrudge anyone the chance to challenge. It is to my benefit and full belly, after all."

"So many options. But for now, perhaps, I shall continue to think on this and how I may create confusion like a poison-fish hiding under the sand."

Nyarle turned her gaze sideways to glance at Chrest. "I would rely on you to be my kind fraccion who talks freely with others. If anyone plans danger to our team, or the Espada, you would let us know, yes?"

 

[Isaac Vladimir]

Chrest Saitania

The wolf Arrancar gently shifted around so that he was now laying on his side, his elbow resting against the furs as he used his hand to prop up his head so that he could watch Nyarle while listening to her speak. His garnet eyes met hers as he listened while she told him more of how life had been during her time as a human in the living world, giving her his undivided attention.

She mentioned that deceiving others through kindness in order to further one's own goals was a common practice among the Nobility of ancient Egypt. Chrest had known this, though he had forgotten about it for quite some time. His family had not been socially prominent, but they were still a part of the lower Nobility class, and their family name carried just enough weight and wealth that they had lived in relative comfort; a manor, servants, all that was normally expected of Nobility.

As a young child, Chrest hadn't actually spent much time with his family of a father and three older brothers, having spent more time with the nanny who was responsible for watching the boys while their father worked. Typical; even though their father worked from home, he still hired a nanny to keep an eye on them, rather than wasting his own time to bond with them.

However, the wolf could just barely recall one or two occasions where his father had opened their home for parties and other members of the Noble families had attended. At the time, Chrest had been far too young to comprehend the tactics that Nobles employed to further their own goals, but his brothers had not-so-subtly explained it to him later, mentioning that this was pretty much how it always was and would likely always be. A light shudder danced up his spine as Chrest suddenly wondered if he had truly become that which had drawn Nyarle into the world she'd had no interest entering, and that which he had once despised.

Nyarle laid down beside him, and as Chrest looked at her, she grinned up at him, baring gleaming white fangs that did not fail to briefly catch his eye. The tigress warned him to beware of those who offered him his heart's desire, for they probably desired something more from him in return. She urged him to seek only his own happiness first and foremost, that it would serve him well.

Fortunately, his only desire right now was to serve his new master.

He needed nothing more than that.

Nyarle continued, addressing what she referred to as his second strategy. But as she explained her thoughts, Chrest blinked, wondering if he had somehow given her the impression that he had implied that she needed to appear more submissive in order to fool others of their kind. Before he could comment on this, she grinned again, her hunger and blood-lust readily evident as she spoke of those who might seek to challenge her for her coveted Espada ranking. If such a thought gave her that much joy, who was he to ruin it for her?

The wolf's lips delicately curved upward into a smile as he gently nodded his head in understanding, allowing her to continue without any interruption. She glanced at him again, and proceeded to give him his first real task as her new Fraccion. I can be of some use to her...

“You have my word, Nyarle-sama,” he replied, his voice low but reassuring, as the young wolf gently shifted around again, now resting his head on Nyarle's shoulder as he lay beside her, nuzzling contently into the warmth of her skin, his garnet eyes falling closed. “If I discover any who mean us harm, I shall tell you immediately.”

 

[Unicorn]

Nyarle felt Chrest's happiness at accepting a task, his promise to tell her of anything wrong, and nodded approvingly.

A mild-mannered Fraccion, someone who had just changed allegiances, who could move around without inspiring much staring or concern. That Fraccion could learn many more things than if she herself were to wander about the very same route. And that was a great benefit.

The wolfling was an intelligent one, a quick learner who would only get better in the long years ahead. Though he seemed to want a pack and a leader for now, perhaps one day he could lead a pack of his own. The cat-arrancar did mean it when she asked what Chrest wished to do, and to follow his own heart's desire in whatever path he chose to walk in future.

It was Nova's loss, to create such a meek fraccion and then abandon Chrest for whatever reason, instead of grooming him to effectively support his team. But she was not complaining - she had gained a Fraccion who would happily benefit her pack.

Nyarle purred, feeling Chrest nuzzle deeper into her side in utter contentment.

It was definitely Nova's loss.


(Nyarle out, thanks for letting me play in this thread )