=>Keionx Rutace // Orangeblood

[DraconicFeline]

Meta: The Pheonix Initiative

Keionx rested a moment. Her injuries were bad – she had likely damaged something that she shouldn't – but trolls were tough, and Keionx a very tough one among them. She'd had to be, to be who she was. What toughness she hadn't naturally had had been forged into her by Beastdad. He had known that, to be a hero on Alternia, one must be very tough.

Perhaps, she thought, catching a glimpse of his proud, majestic form amidst the gathered rebels, he knew it better than most. One day she would ask him if he had known Zariah's lusus, the other beastdad that had nurtured her twin for those few lonely sweeps. Yes – she knew what had happened to Zariah's father. In a sense, she always had. She had buried it under delusion, had forgotten all about it when she had taken him in, but she hadn't really forgotten. Now, she could look at the thoughts again, and did not falter from the truth: his father had been killed. Her father had taken him in.

She had a sense her lusus did know Zariah's beastdad somehow, that they were connected, just as she and Zariah were.

Yes. One day she would ask. Not when they got through this, not if. Keionx knew they would. There was no question. Though the odds were against them, though the universe – as it related to trolls – opposed them, Keionx knew – fully and certainly – that they would make it through. By her sword, by her shield, and by the effort of all those who had found themselves here, they would make it through.

She watched as Vremea made her rounds, glowing with healing light, and smiled. The Pheonix Initiative... When had she heard the Rebels called that? Was it in Old Hemisect? Was it in Zariah's writings? Was it from the mouths of the Scouts, or from Stryke? Either way, she had heard it, and now she really felt she understood.

She had been burned by the truth, her entire life incinerated in one glorious and terrible moment when she had realized that everybody she had ever cared about was on the other side, that the world was not – was truly not – like any heroic tale she had ever read. She had been ashes... lost... confused.

But now she was found. Despite her aches and the bright stains on the bandages, she felt... renewed. Arisen from the ashes. Fighting with Stryke, hearing the rebel leader's speech, seeing how the rebel leader – the pinkblood? Whatever her name was? - was so willing to go into the bloody fray herself to fight for what she believed in – for the people she believed in... she felt as though things fell into place at last.

That old fire, that belief in right and wrong, in good and evil, and that there was – always – hope, had returned to her, but different. She felt awake and in balance... For the first time in her life, she felt truly, completely, alive.

She was so very alive.

Her rest over, she stood – with some care – and staggered over to a troll dispensing water rations. She took a deep drink, and exhaled sharply, looking at the cavern with an appraising eye.

Well. Then.

There was heroic work to be done.  

[DraconicFeline]

Pantry of Doom

On some level, Keionx understood that her brother and her were very different people and viewed the world differently. She understood that she didn't understand him, and so she pretended that she did, just as she pretended all things. Make believe was her reality, after all.

She cooked up some yummy (rare) steaks for her brother and her to share, fresh from the kill, and found herself baffled as to how he could have possibly gotten stuck in there without any sort of monster chasing him. It was very easy for her to open it. Why not him?

Of course, she knew the doors were weighted and, through her delusions, even had some sense that that was part of the problem. But how could that be? How was Zariah not getting stronger, even with the weighted doors? She had, and she grew stronger every night!

The answer, of course, was that that wasn't Zariah's role. He was the princess, not the knight, forever to be the one rescued... but from pantries? Keionx didn't think too hard about it. She just settled for enjoying having dinner with him, and went from there.

The incident was soon forgotten, then reoccurred, then was forgotten again until Zariah figured out how to keep the door from closing on him. Such was life in the Rutace hivehold... before everything changed.  

[DraconicFeline]

From the Dragon's Mouth

Keionx left Stryke with many questions buzzing around inside her. She was grateful for his answers, what he had given her of them, and honestly the buzzing was good or, rather, it was a good buzzing. It was more curious than the buzzing of before. Those questions had been confused and scared and overwhelmed, and she had adventured far and wide to shake free of them. These questions... might actually have answers.

She joined the deconstruction crews at their tasks. She didn't understand why the tunnels were being collapsed, but it was a familiar task at least, one she remembered doing during the battle of Old Hemisect city. She was still good at it, even now, and at lifting the heavy objects that resulted from the collapses. It would bide time until their leader spoke, and then maybe then, she would have the answers to the buzzing questions at last.

Until then, she would earn those answers with hard work and determination.  

[DraconicFeline]

META: The Dark Swamp

The Dark swamp was, indeed, dark and swampy. It would be easy to lose ones way in it. Fortunately, Keionx was with the group, and was guided by the light that blazed in her soul. Right. She was Right. She was finally doing the Right Thing. She ached and probably should have rested and recouperated more than she did, but she had been absolutely serene, almost giddy with her certainty that she had found what she was searching for. All tasks became pleasant or necessary and thus pleasant by association.

She felt good. More than good. And that meant that no matter where she went, she was always found, never truly lost.

As they trod through the muck, Keionx knew she had to believe that of others, too, even though she couldn't see them in the caravan's crowd. Stryke, especially, as he ran around out there, keeping their foe off of their tails – Keionx had to believe that her friend would not be lost. She had to believe that he would be found – by friends not foes – or find his own way out.

Belief was difficult these days, since the secret-that-changed-everything (as she had taken to calling it) but right now, just now, she found that it was easy. Everyone she knew, everyone she cared about, would find their way back to her.

Everything would be fine.  

[DraconicFeline]

META Miniboss: Typical hero-swamp interaction

Keionx would look at the daywalker encounter later and realize that she was actually very lucky to have the blueblood on hand, but she didn't think so at the time. He was a proud troll, someone she was finding she could respect, and he had been an ally, but there were people that she – perhaps petulantly – would have rather fought beside. Stryke, for instance. Or the pinkblood – Byakko. Or Zariah. Or Alexin. Or the damn queen, even.

But something about the blueblood and her didn't click... or, perhaps, clicked in the wrong way. And she didn't know what to do with him...  

[DraconicFeline]

Raiders of the Lost Arc

Keionx felt herself slowly wind down from the battle against the smiling swamp parent, both pain and pride rising, at last, beyond the single-minded focus of fighting. They had defeated the beast, but of course they had - the Scouts were a team of heros, after all. Keionx would not look up to them so fondly if they weren't. Mere monsters were no match for them. It was other things - ideals, betrayal, hope... these things were more difficult. They could not be remedied or accomplished with mere battle prowess alone. But the scouts could do it. Keionx knew they could.

As she fell back into the mother grub caravan, she raised something jingling to her gaze, shaking off the mud and grime - It appeared to be an item, and it glowed with power - namely an 'on' button, blinking steadily and brightly. It looked high quality, but she would have to have it appraised by someone more familiar with stuff than her. But, in the meantime, she slipped it in a pocket for later, rejoining the group.  

[DraconicFeline]

Piney Fresh (Battle)

There was really nothing quite like a battle to get the bloodpusher pumping and the good feelings rolling. In the aftermath of the friendly fight, though bloodied and a little beaten up, Keionx felt at her best... for the first time in a while, since some key parts of Bloodfest and the occasional adventure, she felt at her best.

At the same time, though, she didn't forget why she was there... questions. Questions and a new shirt. Outfit. Clothes. The clothes would be easy, but the questions... They would hurt her to ask about as much as they would risk Athene's exoskeleton to answer. But, Keionx prayed, she would get the answers. And maybe, with those answers in hand, she would find her way...  

[DraconicFeline]

The Ruins of Taluma

Another adventure, another night of wandering and stuggle. She had been on the road for so long that, as she set up her sopor hideaway tent in a cave for the day, the past few months blurred into one mass, a single story of a lonely hero: a young teen trying to survive, figure out her feelings, and do the Right Thing in a world that actively resisted her. In truth, of course, it was the feelings and not the world that frustrated her the most: the world had always been that way. Even when she had been young and overconfident, she had known that Alternia was not a world for heroes like her. That was why she trained. That was why she had to be strong. Beastdad had made sure that she could survive and still be true to what she was.

She just wasn't sure what that was anymore.

Even with Sopor slime, memories of fire and confusion and betrayal played out in her mind. It was worse when she had dared to go without Sopor slime. Keionx always, now, made sure she picked some up at refill stations. Always.

She had much on her mind, indeed, but even though the young yellowblood in the desert ruins was not at the forefront of her mind, she knew she would never forget him. She never forgot people. Of course, she also hoped they'd meet again, if only to ease her loneliness, just a little bit. Maybe he could be a friend... but no. That was too much to ask.  

[DraconicFeline]

The Harvest Moon Jubilee

Keionx had been enjoying the activity of the festival, but now it was time to sit and think and rest her weary body on a blanket in the rolling plains. The festivities continued nearby, loud and merry, but as she looked up at the star-filled sky, it was as if she was back in Busthind. There were places in the mountains that were so remote from any of the trappings of civilization that it felt as though you were all alone in the world, amidst the rocky crags.

Keionx knew them well – Beastdad had often taken her to those places for training, camping, and other adventures in rustic sopor tents. From these places, on clear nights, Keionx had been able to see the stars spilling forth across the sky. They had never been just stars, or even distant suns to her. They had had meaning, gleaned from Beastdad's stories. Beastdad, after all, had no real understanding of outer space, Keionx had learned all that later on and, somehow, the concept of intergalactic warfare and empire was more fantastical to her than any of her fantasies.

Keionx lay back against the blanket and traced the constellations in the sky with an outstretched finger. It had been a long time since she had watched the stars from the mountaintops, but she remembered quite a few of them, still, and the stories that went along with them. She only had to squint, and to remember, and the characters of the stories she had loved so much as a wiggler would emerge from the clutter of lights. That there could be so many stories crowded into the sky at once... that, she felt, was special.

Ah – there... her finger traced a particularly special constellation in the sky. It was a musclebeast rearing victoriously over a a three headed swan-monster... That was Cheiron and Kairn. Keionx smiled as she remembered their story, told to her with pride by her lusus long ago...

Cheiron, as her father had told her, had been a massive and powerful musclebeast, galloping around the land and heroically rescuing troll, lusus, and wild beast alike from the myriad dangers of Alternia. He was a selfless hero-beast, proud of what he did. Beastdad had told her many stories about him, tales of glory and pride and adventure that had inspired her adventures. The one that put him in the sky was a particularly great tale of heroics and valor... and sacrifice.

Kairn was a monster, a once-friend of Chieron, a screaming semiaquatic creature with three heads that had, despite its association with the heroic beast, decided to turn to evil and rampage through troll villages. They ate troll and lusus alike, and Cheiron could not stand for such acts. So, he galloped in to save the day.

Cheiron had only been intending to wrestle and subdue the monster, out of respect for their friendship, but Kairn had killed the lusus that Cheiron was wooing, and it enraged the hero greatly. So, he fought Kairn on the plains, nearly until the break of day. Finally Cheiron bested them. But, even as it neared defeat in the powerful arms of Cheiron, Kairn revealed that the spurs on their webbed feet were poisoned, and would kill Chieron. He may have bested them, but he would not win without dying.

Cheiron was dismayed: He wanted to win, but he did not want to die, and most of all, he did not want to kill his once friend in the first place. So, like the hero he was, he made a new option for himself: With his incredible strength, he hurled the surprised Kairn into the sky and leapt after them. His might was so great, that they took their place among the stars.

As a collection of stars, he does not die. Forever in the sky, he looks out over the world he loved and protected for so long in a position of great victory. And yet, he has also trapped Kairn in such a way that his once friend does not die either. From the sky, he has achieved his desires. And, in doing so, inspires young heros to achieve their own.

Keionx had always liked that story, especially when Beastdad had claimed that Cheiron was his ancestor. Though a lusus's ancestor wasn't her own ancestor, she accepted the stories of Cheiron as her own, and strove to be like the fabled hero.

She wondered, suddenly, if Zariah had ever heard these same stories from his lusus – she'd never asked him about his lusus, but Beastdad had told her (with manly tears in his eyes) that he had known Zariah's lusus, and that he had been a musclebeast as well. Beastdad would tell her nothing more, and Zariah was so quiet about it.

She had certainly told Zariah some of Cheiron's stories anyway, to inspire him and entertain him. She added a few things to the stories of course – embellishments to make them more interesting – but she felt, deep in her torso, that Cheiron had been real.

If he was real, Keionx wondered how the heroic musclebeast would feel about her and her deeds thus far. He'd probably be proud, too... she thought, smiling at the thought. She had done the Right Thing all along, had followed it to where it led. Even when the choice seemed to have been taken from her, she had continued to do it. She was still doing it. He'd probably be very proud...  

[DraconicFeline]

Alone At Last

Healing... was a long road. Keionx had taken a great deal of damage in the caverns and – worse – had endured her injuries and worked (and fought!) through them, making them worse. But such was her way, and that hard road was made easier by friends... or whatever she could call Miache. She spent a great deal of time in bed (much as she did not want to) recouperating, and that meant... well... she had a lot of time to think about things: Regrets, her brother, her friends, the situation she was in... Miache took up a sizable chunk of that.

Her previous experience with him, as a child, had been with him as their 'leader', their teen supervisor. But she barely remembered him. He'd seemed so irrelevant, then – merely the ticket to adventure, a part of the group, but not the most important part. That had been, of course, her. The hero. Though she hadn't been treated as a hero there, she had felt it in her bones. She'd known she was doing the right thing.

But now it was different. She knew, now, that the Right Thing was not so universal, that she had to follow her pumpbiscuit to it and that it might not be Right for others. This was fine. She knew, in the end, she was on the right side of the conflict, doing what she needed to. She was still the hero. She was still important, too, but she was not THE important one. She was important in the context of others. These others.

And Miache... He was – and had been – far more than a 'ticket'. She could see that now. He was a facilitator, and more: he was a person, with ideals she respected and desires she wanted to help him fulfill... but she also hated how reliant she was, every day of her healing, on his help. He dressed her wounds. He changed her bandages. He cleaned her and tended to her. She would have likely been dead without him. And she hated it. She wanted to one-up him, to make him rely on her and to make him utterly powerless, just as she felt now.

It was a complicated feeling, and she found herself looking forward to his visiting and aid even as she wanted to punch him in the face a little. As her healing progressed, she had more oppurtunities to do so, and was even able to move around. She could have punched him. But, though she could, she didn't. Her self control would not let her. It was frustrating... and it made her feel alive.  

[DraconicFeline]

Strong Saving

Beastdad was home, safe and sound, but Keionx's soul was not at ease. He of course wouldn't understand what he had done wrong. As far as Beastdad was concerned, helping Zariah with the rebellion had been the Right Thing to do, the sort of thing that he had always taught her to do. But he had lied to her, had left her out of this, and in doing so he had betrayed her. That was how it felt to Keionx.

Betrayal.

Keionx had read about it. In so many stories, the hero was betrayed by an ally, stabbed in the back by a friend or a lover. Alternia was not a kind place to heroes... Keionx just hadn't thought that she would be the hero betrayed.

Her own brother... her own father... It was a lot to think about, and she didn't know what to do about it.

Keionx quietly packed a travel bag. She needed to think. Away from here. Adventure called to her, an escape from the ruins of a life of escapism, and maybe she would find the answers she sought... out there.

Alternia was not kind to heroes. It was time to find out whether she had the strength to handle it's dangers.

Alone.

Away from her family.

She left only a scribbled note to let them know where she'd gone... and it was a long time before her weary feet were ready to face them, and home, again...  

[DraconicFeline]

Bloodfest 2016

Keionx's scarf flapped in the chilly sea breeze as she gazed out into the dark horizon. This Bloodfest had been rejuvenating, as no other Bloodfest had been before, and she felt sublimely confident and at ease. Confidence was something she had in ample quantities, but ease... that was rare. She felt that, in the process of babysitting and the booth activities and the events of the festival, something had been settled within her. She understood something that, before, she hadn't.

It was not an understanding she could put into words, but the feeling was all the confirmation she needed. She had done the right thing, by joining the Rebellion. She had done the right thing, by coming here to Bloodfest instead of isolating herself in the Swamp and the wilds of Busthind. She had done the right thing, and she'd enjoyed herself.

Looking ahead, over the metaphorical horizon, in the wake of the festival, Keionx felt that things, the future, would be good. No more agony. No more tears. Just the will to do what needed to be done.

With that, she turned back to the festival and sought out the swamplings still lingering. Her role was to ensure that they could return safely to the swamp, unhindered and harmed by the military.  

[DraconicFeline]

Tough Love

Keionx was not injured, not on the outside, but she still felt much like she had been after the fight against the undead - dragging. Pained. It felt like she was moving through custard as she made her way through the swamp, keeping up a blank appearance and a threatening demeanor. She wanted to talk. She wanted someone to explain to her how someone she had lived with her whole life could resent her so much, and to tell her that yes, she was right. She was sure she had done nothing wrong.

She stalked towards the outskirts of Salamire and climbed up a tree, surveying the misty, fume-laden swamp around her. She just... looked. And hurt. And she did not cry. Perhaps she wanted to. Perhaps she didn't. But even if she bid them forth, even when she thought about the harsh things that had been said, she did not cry. No tears slid down her face.

She wasn't even sad. Instead, she felt a tired blankness overcome her, a nothingness that defied despair and pride. Her spirit ached. It hurt so much. And, at that moment, she did not want to care.