#tuyaa dataq

Tingling on skin, the soft touch running down creating goose prickles in their wake. A tender caress slowly turning into a harsher pull, skin turning and tearing, giving way under pressure. A gasp, a moan, a cry of pain.

Trickling and rolling down, exertion shown across the brow and down a cheek. The heat and flush of the skin received praise and more attention. A hand gently brushing away the sweat, a soft coo, a chuckle, a scream.

Breath quickened and strained, arms reaching out grasping--

One rolls over as he grasps his lover, smiling in his sleep. Another wakes with a memory of pleasant time with a bitter taste. The last jolts awake, a panicked tone in his throat as he stops it from escaping.

Chidori was angry at him again. He huffed and grumbled as he heard the door lock behind him, glaring at the painted wood. He did not really think she would lock the door behind him and tried the knob. It refused to budge.

“Come on Chi…” he frowned “I didn’t mean it like that” there was a muffled tone behind the door and the sounds of rummaging. Slumping his shoulders he leaned his head against the door. He needed to be a bit more careful in his words.  “Fine.” he grumbled and stood straight. “I’ll be back later”

There was nothing he could do, really, except wait impatiently. The time passed crawled like a slug, as the crowd before him took a half step forward. They were urged to keep orderly and remain at a decent tone. Tuyaa, just remained silent, a finger tapping rhythmically against his armor, and a look of utter annoyance on his face. This was the longest and worst part of his errands, keeping it to the last thing on his list to do.

There it is, creeping in the back of your mind. It whispers and mutters.

Do it.

You hold it back, stave off the creature that lurks. It gets louder and louder ‘till it screams.

DO IT!

You grit your teeth and shut out the world, holding on to yourself, holding back.

It is not you.

You let out a breath that near choked you, something you had not noticed you were holding.

It is alright.

It whispers and mutters, telling you to lose. Just open up and let it out.

It will not harm.

You know it is a lie and hold back. You have listened to it before and learn now.

Just~Give~In~

Tuyaa sat, watching the fish turn and turn, weaving through each other as they went. He was sitting on the deck just next to the pond in the yard, haunched over. In his hands he held the rock, turning it over and over in rhythm with the fish turning. His jaw was clenched, biting down on the cigarette in his mouth, not quite taking it in. The sounds of the Beds had long subsided to Tuyaa’s horns as he was lost in his thoughts. 

He was sorting through his memories, something he had started to do to clear his mind and help him deal with what has happened in the past, and with what to do next. It made him look somber, near angry, and that was likely one of the reasons why Chidori never approached him as he did this. It was nothing bad, just off-putting compared to his usual careless and witty demeanor. 

Tuyaa moved and reached down to place the rock by the pond and stood, taking a long pull of his cigarette. He tilted his head up and let out the smoke, as he pulled the remainder from his mouth, snuffing it out against the wood on the side of the deck, matching with other smudges from previous bouts of contemplation. He started to make his way back inside when he noticed something was on the bench. Chidori had snuck in beside him and had fallen asleep. He smirked down at her and went to scoop her up in his arms. She let out a groan of protest.

Tuyaa looked over the display of glass spheres, all speckled with different colours and designs. Some had gold or silver lacework over them for an extra effect. He frowned as he usually did when he was uncertain about something, scrunching his nose a little as he did so. It was only until he heard the vendor clear his throat did he realize how long he had been standing there. His expression softened as much as it could as he looked up and saw the vendor recoil just a little, but soon recovered as he crossed his arms.

“You just going to stand there? Planning on stealing?” The man’s tone was abrasive and accusing. It seemed like he did not enjoy the presence of a Xaela looming over his stall.

“Planning on buyin’, if you’re less of a prick.” Tuyaa shot back with equal distaste. The man flustered and stammered a bit, looking over to the side to see if he could catch the attention of a guard. Tuyaa raised a hand and pointed to one of the pearls on display. It was simple but had a nice light purple marble colouring to it. “How many of those you got?”

The vendor stopped and stared down at the indicated product and snorted. “Too rich for yo--” his words were halted when Tuyaa lifted a sack of gil, tossing it on the small counter, perhaps spilling a few pearls onto the ground.

“Should be enough for twelve, yeah?” Tuyaa was used to this kind of attitude, especially in the markets. The only thing that seemed to get through to these people was a large show of money.

“The- uhm- ah… Well. Yes.” the man stammered and reached to inspect the bag. “Perhaps… even a little more than that.” He quickly turned to pick up a box and began sorting a few of the pearl into it, then linking them all together. “Is there anything else you would like?” the man’s tone had changed, but his demeanor had not. Tuyaa pointed to one of the more intricate displays.

“Can I have two of those? Do they come in different colours?” the man nodded and reached for a pair.

“E-easily changed.” he confirmed, “Any in particular?” “Purple, like those, and red.” The man nodded and got to work, linking them together and handing over the boxes to Tuyaa.

Fate

“What is your name?” a young voice reached his ears. He stirred but only slightly, his ears pressing down and shying away from the sound.

“Hey.” The voice insisted again and a shock of pain coursed through him as something shook him. He growled and groaned in pain, his face contorting.

“Ahh!” the voice faded slightly. Good he thought. It would leave him and he could sleep more. He was tired, hurt, and he could not feel his legs… Or his arms. Wait, that was not right. He tensed and his consciousness returned to him, his eyes opening in a panic. Another wave of pain filled him and he let out a cry that was soon muffled by a cough, choking.

“Daaaaaaaad!” the voice screeched, and footsteps faded. Why could he not feel his arms? His legs? What happened? Where was he? Who-- The world of colours faded as his consciousness receded. What was his name?

Tuyaa

Standing in the doorway of the rather lavish home, he leaned over, crossing his arms. “So this is who you are.”

The Raen at the desk looked up from his papers, staring at the Xaela. His expression was full of confusion at first but then his eyes widened with recognition.

“By Azim’s light…” He murmured, dropping his pen. He rose to his feet rather abruptly causing chair behind him  to slide back a few feet. “You look just like your moth-- What are you doing here?” His tone quickly changed from wonder to anger.

The Xaela smirked, his tail tapping at the doorway. “Came to find out my heritage.”

“Quiet!” the Raen shouted, his fists balling on the table. “Do not mention that here.” his voice lowered, taking back control over his tone. He let out a breath and motioned for the Xaela to sit at the couch nearby. “Sit, please.”

“Oho… struck a nerve?” The Xaela raised a brow, his smirk still on his lips as he pushed away from the door. He lowered his voice and leaned in just slightly, “Am I your dirty lil secret~?” The Raen shot him a glare that would make lesser men quiver in their shoes, but this Xaela seemed much too battle-hardened to be affected by such a look.

“Sit” he insisted. The Xaela rolled his eyes and made a show of it, as he moved to the couch and hopped into it with a heavy bounce and a clink of armor.

“Soft.” he commented, leaning back in the chair, kicking his feet up on the small table before him. The Raen frowned more, if that was even possible and moved to shove the Xaela’s feet off the table as he passed to sit in the single couch.

“What do you want?” the Raen grumbled. The Xaela shrugged and was about to speak when a soft voice came from the doorway

“Father?” The Raen and Xaela turned to the door to see a young Raen girl with frail and sickly features. She was holding a few papers in her arms. She stopped when she saw the red-haired Xaela who was staring at her. She grew flustered and looked down at her feet. “S-sorry, I didn’t know you were w-with anyone.” she quickly made her way to the desk and placed her papers before making a quick exit, almost stumbling over her long dress.

The Xaela turned back to the Raen man who shot another galre at the Xaela.

“What?”

“You are not to tell anyone who you are while you’re here.”

“What--”

It had been a while, he thought, as he browsed the kumis kiosk in Reunion. How long? Four? Five days maybe? He shifted on his feet and adjusted the strap to his bag on his back. Extra furs and food for the pregnant wife back in the yurt. Maybe he could get something just for himself. Maybe he could just have a small bottle, drink it here and head back. A cup? He reached into his pocket to get some kind of payment when his fingers brushed against a worn stone. He tensed as he seemed to have forgotten it was there. He took a step back from the stand and pulled out the rock, glancing down at it. He rolled it around in his hand a bit before bringing his other hand over it, trailing his fingers across all the dips and grooves. There were marks in it as well, for when he had threw it across the room in anger, chipping away at its original size.

He took a breath and grumbled, shoving the stone back into his pocket and turning away from the kumis. She did not like it when he drank. She only thought the worst of him when he did. She fears he will just drown in the alcohol and never crawl back out. She was wrong, he always came back, and he never, never, hurt anyone else who did not deserve it whilst drunk. Just himself, that one time, well, he deserved it.

Continuing to grumble, he patted at his chest to feel out his cigarettes and bit one between his lips in a huff. He brought the match to it and lit it as soon as he got out of Reunion to take in a deep breath. The scent of plum and smoke surrounded him as he exhaled, it was a sweet smell, but had a bitter taste. He liked the bitter. He drew in another breath and started to make his way.