Burying the Hatchet

Trager

A bit (or lot) of Roleplay I encountered with Katszia. Kudos, had a blast!

 

You have emoted: Trager enters briskly, his features dark and cloudy. His eyes alight on Katszia
suddenly and they narrow if not impossibly more. "What are you up to, Tracker?" He asks none-to-
gently.

Katszia lifts her head at the shuffle of steps, turning her gaze from the catalog to set on you and
bringing her dhurive's tip up with a dip of her head in greeting. For a brief moment she says
nothing at the sight of those stormy features, before giving her throat a soft clearing and ticking
her head toward the shelf. "Looking for what I'm supposed to know about Huwald and the brothers,"
she answers.

You have emoted: Trager appears to ponder Katszia's figure for a long moment. Finally he lets loose
a deep sigh, the stress and emotion falling from his face almost instantly. "Forgive me." He rumbles,
 his voice thick and gravelly. "Just a very trying month."

Slender fingers dance lightly over the midshaft of her dhurive as Katszia seems to study you in
return, her lips pressing lightly and giving a faint twist to the side. "No need for forgiveness,"
she remarks in seemingly calm tones, "We all have months like that." A slow breath follows the
caress of the breeze that slithers through the area and she tilts her head some. "Anything I can
do?" she queries.

You have emoted: Trager strides slowly over to stand behind Katszia. "Nothing, I am afraid." He says
softly, looking over Katszia's shoulder at the catalog. "Getting ready for your final interview?"

Katszia feels an unbidden tense trickle through her muscles with your movement, her own gaze sliding
in liquid motion back to the various books lining the shelves. "Is it the final?" she more remarks
than asks, exhaling quietly and finally nodding which a shift that leaves her more profiled to your
frame. "Either way, yes, I'm trying at least. Still have to chase down a couple lessers, which
doesn't thrill me, admittedly."

You have emoted: Trager reaches just around Katszia's form, remaining just a hairsbreadth away from
physical contact. His hands brush along the hardened wood of Katszia's dhurive, his fingers light,
caressing, appraising. Quickly he drops his arm, and clasps them both behind him. "Hrm." He growls
softly. "Perhaps it has been changed since I stood before Griana." Inhaling sharpy, he slowly lets
the breath trickle out from between his lips. "Regardless." He declares firmly. "It is good to see
you here studying. Too many Scouts and Trackers are so Pitting lazy these days."

"It may not have been, I just haven't extended my focus beyond what's right in front of me," Katszia
replies after watching your fingers brush along the pitch wood of her splintering dhurive. A slight
frown tugs at her lips as she studies the weapon, knowing she'll soon have to whittle down another.
There is a moment of pause where she neither talks nor moves, save the natural shifts of her body
with her breaths or the blinks of her eyes. Finally she turns just a hint more in order to level her
gaze more directly with yours. "In all fairness, laziness was never my shortcoming," she murmurs
with a slight smirk. "This will make the third guild's path I've worked my way through. It is simply
intended to be the last, as well," she adds. With curiosity as her baser nature those violet eyes
sweep downward in a brief assessment of you, pausing as they catch the glint of that coral pendant
before lifting again.

You have emoted: Trager gives a small, derisive snort and turns away, walking slowly over to a large,
 cushioned chair and sinking deep into its thick, plush upholstery. "The third, eh?" He asks lightly.
 "Is that something to be proud of? Something you find humorous?" He drawls thickly. "Seems rather
like the Sentinels may be wasting their time with you, Tracker." He lifts his hand, repositioning a
coral-covered pendant around his neck and stroking one, lone finger along its edge.

Swinging the dhurive around behind her, Katszia fastens it off with a loop of leather affixed to her
pants, the weapon left horizontal with the ground. Though your pointed words stun her slightly a
lift of her chin is given, rather than a hang of her head. "Proud?" she repeats with a mirthless
laugh, folding her arms loosely over her chest. "No. I'm not at all proud of that fact," she answers,
 the weight of her honesty likely felt more than simply heard. "I'm proud of very little up to the
point Tecpatl gifted me with a return to life." Despite watching you seem to get more comfortable,
she does not move from where she's been since your arrival. "I do permit myself moments of reminders
at where my strengths lie, however. What use would I be to the Pride or the Rhythm, or to the
Maelstrom, to family, to anything really, if I felt I were completely worthless?" The question is
posed with an arch of her slender, dark brow. "Those who believe they are nothing, ultimately become
nothing."

You have emoted: Trager remains silent, pondering Katszia's figure contemplatively for a few long
moments. "Hrm." He articulates slowly. The arm attached to the hand still fingering a coral-covered
pendant moves to perch on to one of the thick, plush armrests as he rests his chin gently down onto
the palm of his hand. A steady beat plays out from a lone finger as it taps rhythmically against the
side of his face. "A sound answer." He notes quietly. Once again he falls silent, his gaze both
pensive and piercing. "And do you feel that now you have something to offer the Pride? The
Maelstrom?" He asks in his rough, abrasive growl. "Far be for me to judge His will..." He adds, "But
I have a desire to know just who and what the character of a person is that by oath I am sworn to
defend and support."

A quick flick of Katszia's gaze follows the rhythmic tick of that finger against your cheek, set on
it for a moment before it slides back to meet your onlooking gaze that feels as if it might bore
straight through her. There is a lightly gritty sound as her stance shifts, the bottom of her boots
scuffing against the floor followed by a step forward and a lean to the side that leaves her right
shoulder pressed against the side of the bookcase. "I'd like to believe I do," comes her thoughtful
response, the growl to your voice making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle. "You see,
once you fall you have limited options. You can crawl along the pit you fell into and call it good,
or you can look back up and try to figure out how to climb back out again. Once I finally looked
back up, and started to remember who I was and what I always intended to stand for, I found a
resolution I didn't have before I gave in to the Dark Lady's tugs." Only then do her features twist
into a darker, grim look, eyes tensing at the corners. "I know I'm not well trusted. I get that I
have a place to earn. But even if I'm the only person who knows what I know about me, and how
resolved I am to make good on my oaths and promises, I'll see to it that I do." Perhaps, under it
all, there is a faint twinge of hurt that accompanies her words.

You have emoted: While his face remains completely devoid of emotion or reaction, Trager's eyes
appear to dance and swirl with a myriad of unsaid words. Taking a deep breath, he exhales slowly and
deliberately, his focus on Katszia unwavering. Slowly teeth appear from behind his closed mouth,
gently clenching onto his bottom lip. "Sit." He says, gesturing to a chair set facing him. "Please."
He adds, an almost pleading tone creeping imperceptibly into his voice.

Breaking the stare, Katszia turns her gaze to the chair in front of you and, after a moment's
hesitance, she slowly pushes away from the wall and wanders over to it. A quick step around it
brings her sinking down into it, pausing just shy of getting comfortable - or snapping her dhurive -
and reaching around behind her to unfasten it and draw it in front of her. Sliding back she lies the
two-foot weapon across her lap, crossing her legs comfortably and lifting her eyes to fix them on
you again. For now she says nothing, the invitation to sit having taken her completely off guard.

You have emoted: Trager continues chewing thoughtfully upon his bottom lip, appearing to think
carefully upon his next words. "I may be too quick to judge you." He murmurs finally. "I myself very
nearly fell to the same sway most are so eager to condemn you for." He pauses again, the slow bite
of his lip taking dominance across his features once more. "At one time I so eagerly threw myself
into everything that my Oath embodied. Constantly defending myself and mine. Constantly rallying to
fight off whatever force the both the north and south rallied to send against us." His tone takes on
a short, clipped tone, dark and grating as he continues, "So eagerly I fell into the routine of
battle, and so at ease I found myself growing to the idea of taking another's life, begin reveling
in it. Thirsting for it. I began letting it consume me and soon my hatred for those I was doing
everything in my power to stop, began bleeding into my daily interactions with those I cared deeply
for." He stops and takes another heavy sigh. "I so very nearly lost my way." He murmurs softly. "I
almost fell prey to that which I claimed to that which I found so abhorrent." He falls silent,
finally, his gaze appearing to see right through you at some distant point unseen. "Hence my long
absence." He finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. Quickly he shakes his head, and his eyes
snap back into focus. "I understand the draw, the attraction." He growls firmly. "I am in no
position to judge you."

Shock is the best description for what's written on Katszia's features as she hears your first words.
 Having grown accustomed to feeling as if she's being judged every time she turns around, save from
a very select handful of people, the last thing she expected was your admission. Those slender,
shaped brows tug down into a slight furrow as the confession of sorts continues, giving her a
glimpse into the man she barely knows. A tightening of her throat is met with a misting in her eyes
and she glances down, letting her eyes fix on her dhurive while forcing herself to not allow her
emotions to best her. It doesn't immediately dawn on her that your words have stopped, though when
it does she lifts her eyes again, almost cautiously, knowing there would be no masking the emotion
etched on her features like an open book. "There is only one person, beside myself, who knows nearly
everything that happened up to the moment that I fell, and from then until now - and that person is
my brother. He is the only person who has never judged me for an instant, even if we didn't agree,"
she admits, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Even I judge me, every day, trying not to live in
the past and punish myself. Gods know I do a much better job at that than anyone else who sees fit
to posture at me or chide me for screwing up," she confesses warily. "I have moments where I think
it best to keep my head down, stay quiet, and hustle. Let time pass. Pray people forget, and if they
don't, that they'll at least forgive - though it seems unlikely with some," she murmurs with a light
lift of her right shoulder. "But... thank you, for sharing that with me," she adds in sincere, if
hushed tones.

You have emoted: Trager watches Katszia passively as you speak, his features unreadable save his
eyes where a soft, understanding look remains unabashedly. He lets out a sharp exhale of breath as
Katszia finish, a very gruff sounding growl tearing free from his throat at the same time. "Yes,
well," He begins before falling silent once more, sitting still and finding himself at a lack for
words. "I agree with your method of coping, if that is what you will call it." He says firmly, his
deep, emerald eyes returning to their imperceptibly hardened look. "You ahave been given a chance to
redeem yourself in our Lord's eyes, the Pride's eyes and, most importantly," He adds pointedly,
"Your own. Walk -your- path." He exudes, his thick, baritone voice rising in excitement. "Decide who
and what you are by your -own- words and deeds, not by those that surround you. Fuck whoever deems
they have the presence to judge your past if you are so vehemently working to right your wrongs,
save the Gods above. Only you can truly judge yourself fully, and only you have to live with the
consequences. The fucking hell with any that would say otherwise." He finishes resolutely.

A slight shift leaves Katszia leaning to the left, elbow finding the chair's armrest and hand
lifting to catch her falling cheek. There is a soft puff of breath that spills past her lips with
the contact, leaving an inky tendril of hair snaking forward before fluttering back into place. "I
know we shouldn't need others to validate us, but at times?" she starts, pausing for a brief moment
before admitting, "At times it's just nice to hear things like that. I can remind myself until I'm
blue in the face that I'm doing my damndest, but it can be pretty disheartening when it feels like
I'm the only person who gets - or believes - that." Clear, violet eyes sweep downward again after
having remained locked on your gaze for a time, taking note of the smattering of scars. "Some of us
wear our scars on the inside," she allows in her natural, slightly lilted tone, her eyes still
glossy despite the watering seeming to have stopped. "I count every chance to pave a new path for
myself a blessing. Not everyone is given the chances I've been given. I know that. And," she adds,
fixing those eyes on yours again, "I know that I believe in endless progress, above all else. I had
it ingrained into my mind by sultry and corrupt whispers that I was bound in chains, hindered,
trapped. I felt as if every step back was judged, no matter how small. Now?" Shaking her head a
little she allows the first traces of a smile in some time with the serious nature of the
conversation, "Now I know that a step back, or a small stumble, is merely an opportunity to reassess
the path traveled, so I can go around whatever obstacle sprung up. May take a few more steps, as it
were, but who knows what's there to bump into along the way?" she speculates.

ENTERS THE VERY SNEAKY SERRICE --

You have emoted: Trager taps a lone finger against the side of his face a few more times as he waits
patiently for Katszia to finish. Finally, he replies simply, "Know that after this conversation, I
have all the faith in the world in you, Katszia." Turning slightly, he inclines his head politely.
"Fox." He rumbles conversationally. "You are a very quiet woman, aren't you. Had enough of Tiyen
Esityi already?"

Serrice may or may not have dozed off some time between seating herself in her chair and the present
moment.

Those words bring a full smile to Katszia's lips, her eyes following your after a moment to set on
Serrice. That smile twitches slightly and adopts a slightly more wry appeal, head shaking. "However
long she's been here, apparently we're terribly boring," she remarks with a sidelong glance toward
you and back.

Serrice's eyes flutter open rapidly and she squints and peers about the room, likely in search of
that abrasive noise that disturbed her rest. She mumbles something indistinct under her breath,
arranges her kimono more modestly about her legs, and finally tips her head down against a shoulder.

You have emoted: Trager lets loose a resounding, "Tch." As he clicks his tongue loudly against the
roof of his mouth. "What a character, this one." He rumbles matter-of-factly. Turning his attention
back to focus on Katszia, he takes a different turn in the conversation. "So where do you find
yourself in your Tracker studies, Katszia?" He asks politely, an emphasis put directly upon
Katszia's name as if refusing to use the word 'Tracker' anymore.

Katszia gives a soft snicker of amusement as Serrice's head lolls to the side as she snoozes, or at
least appears to. When your voice breaks the silence she returns her attention to you. The distinct
lack of title as opposed to her name seems to bring even more of a calm to the conversation and a
contemplative 'hmn' is sounded out to fill the space as she thinks. "I've got everything in terms of
equipment and what not. Mostly it comes down to a need to chase two more lessers - which with my
abhorrent state of combat prowess I'm loathe to do, figuring out the ins and outs of at least
explaining traps - which I've yet to delve into, and learning of Huwald Seluno and brothers. I
believe that'll about wrap it up so I can ask for an interview," she responds.

Serrice is definitely snoozing. Or at least, as more than one person considers, appearing to be. If
she is, then she's doing a rather fine job of it. Snoring's out of the question, however.

You have emoted: Trager gives Katszia a sharp, approving nod. "Good." He replies brisk and
businesslike. "The first, I believe I can assist you with." He continues, "Trapping and lessers."
His eyes flash towards Serrice's still form and a wry grin takes form across his face. "The Brothers,
 however," Trager lifts his hand and gestures idly around the room. "You were well on your way
before I interrupted you, I imagine." He finishes, his wry, grin turning warm smile as his gaze
returns to Katszia.

"Yes well, someone chastised me earlier for daydreaming instead of doing something productive,"
Katszia remarks, with hints of amusement underlying her tone and a coy little smile on her lips.
However, at the offer of help her features soften more and that calm, customary smile trickles over
her lips. "I'd be much obliged for some help there. My father had me along for the last, and it went
terribly once the seemingly ever-present new Emperor made a showing. Then the return of my mortality
was made rather plain as I was sent to the Underking," she mumbles with a shake of her head. "One
day," she says with a flick of her gaze heavenward. "One day I'll at least be able to hold my ground
a little more." A breath sweeps past her lips in an exhale and that smile returns.

Serrice emits a soft, sleepy noise and rolls her head back over the edge of the seat, leaving her in
a truly deplorable position in her chair that can't at all be comfortable -- and yet she manages to
stay asleep, or at least, provide the semblance of such.

You have emoted: Trager levels a flat, albeit teasing look upon Katszia. "Indeed I did." He growls
with a roll of his eyes. "But really, could -you- wake such a sweet, peaceful looking creature?" he
asks expectantly. His voice drops low into a mock, conspiratorial whisper, "That, paired with the
fact that his is most very likely the most bearable state we shall have the pleasure enjoying her in.
" Adding a wink to the end of his words.

Katszia swivels her gaze to fix it on Serrice, biting back a light laugh at the mention of sweet,
amusement instantly alighting on her features. "I don't make a habit of waking people if I don't
know how they react to it. Never know what you're going to get," she muses, grinning as her gaze
sweeps back to set on you. "Made the mistake of waking my brother out of a dead sleep once that near
about ended in a black eye for me."

You have emoted: Trager gives the sleeping figure a rueful shake of his head, glancing back towards
Katszia, his mood incredibly elevated compared to when he first entered. He cocks his head to the
side curiously before asking, "Who is your brother, by the way?"

"She likely could wake me up," Serrice drawls lazily, her awkward posture leading an echoing, raspy
sort of quality to her voice. With a groan, she subsequently peels herself out of her chair and
finds her feet, inhaling sharply as she straightens and stands. "But her services are not needed
this time. I believe I shall find a suitable place to deposit myself."

Mumbling, Sentinel Serrice, Black Fox says, "Because that chair was damned uncomfortable."

In a readiness to answer Katszia's lips part, then close again as the more effeminate tone of
Serrice's voice cuts through to the pair. Her eyes instantly sweep back over to the fox and
subsequently, over her. "It looked it," she agrees, laughing lightly and shaking her head. "Get some
good rest mm?" For a moment she watches her then glances back at you, finally answering, "Killien."

"Will," Serrice yawns, leaving with faint nods directed to each of you, Katszia, and Inesse when her
kimono is arranged to her liking. "When next I see you," she murmurs on her way out.

You have emoted: Trager casts an amused glance Serrice's way, his warm smile casting crows feet in
both outer edges of his eyes. "Get some sleep, Fox." He rumbles in his low, abrasive voice.

You have emoted: Trager turns back and twists his head slightly sideways. "Not sure I have met him.
He's of the Pride, yes?"

Katszia keeps her gaze fixed on the way Serrice wandered for a moment before finally returning her
full attention to you, nodding in the affirmative. "He is, yes. He and I came together," she
explains, shifting her lean from the left to right, though this time instead of pressing her cheek
in her hand her arm lazily drapes across her lap.

You have emoted: "Mmm." Trager notes simply. "I'll have to keep an eye out for him, not sure I have
met him at all..." He muses aloud. He shifts in his seat, attempting to take a more comfortable
position. Finally his movement ceases and he fixes Katszia with a piercing, contemplative gaze, but
remains silent.

As all long conversations are wont to do, silence stretches out between the pair of you for a time,
though Katszia keeps her gaze fixed on your for as long as yours remains fixed on her. Seeming to
settle on something to say she sucks in a slow breath, lowering her hands to curl her fingers around
her dhurive. "If we're being honest, I have to admit that I have been fairly nervous around you for..
. well... as long as I can remember," she confesses, capturing the right corner of her lower lip
between her teeth for a scant moment. "I'm glad you happened in here, and that I've had a chance to
get to know you more," she adds then, "And to maybe help you get to know me more, at that."

You have emoted: Trager's eyes narrow into thin, shaded slits as Katszia's teeth bite momentarily
into Katszia's bottom lip. However, as quickly as the look appeared, its gone. "Nervous?" He asks as
a soft smile is forced onto his features. "Why ever for?"

You have emoted: "Well," Trager responds in a light, teasing tone, "Situations rather forced my hand,
 I am afraid." His brow furrows slightly but for a moment. "And higher powers..." Clearing his
through he plasters a warm smile back across his face. "Gruff and unapproachable." the slouched, tan
man remarks. "I daresay someone has to be hard on the lazy Trackers we have lying about this place!"

Katszia waves a hand dismissively, smiling. "Water under the bridge, was more an explanation," she
allows. "Can't blame you for something I brought upon myself." A glance flicks toward Inesse, who
seems to have been politely remaining out of the conversation, then back to settle on your slouched
form. "And surely you mean every -other- Tracker," she jests with a return of that calm, coy smile.

You have emoted: Trager's eyes flash momentarily towards Inesse before returning to Katszia. At your
the end of your words Trager lets loose a derisive snort. "We shall see." He notes curiously. "We
shall see." Twisting around towards the entrance the room he frowns slightly. "Hrm." He murmurs
softly. "I daresay it may be time for me to take my leave for a while." With a sudden groan and a
heave upwards he stands up and stretches his arms wide. "Hnghh." He groans, the stretching taking a
sweet toll on his limbs as he shakes them out luxuriously.

That gaze remains fixed on you as you stand and stretch, though after a moment Katszia slides her
way out of the chair and stands as well. "I think I'll have to save my reading for after a stint of
rest," she allows with a quick glance back at the bookcase. Lifting her free hand, her dhurive
loosely held within the grasp of her right, she ruffles her hair absently and offers you a smile.
"Rest well, if that's where you're headed," she bids, "And thank you again."

You have emoted: Trager slowly makes his way towards the edge of the room, eddying the door slightly.
 With a slight incline of his head he begins walking out but stops suddenly. Turning back, he
hesitates a moment, his features growing unreadable and passive. "Remember what I said, Katszia." He
murmurs, his tone firm a serious. "I have absolute faith in you." With that, he turns, and makes for
the door.

Katszia

It was a lot of fun. Definitely a little on the 'deeper' side, but fun no less! Thanks for long hours that well... felt a lot shorter than they were. Time flies when you're having fun.