Impulse
[[ Warning: Bugs. Violence. Language. ]]
“So... you're not mad?” Two shadows flickered against the wooden wall opposite from twin flickering candles. The lights rested upon a table nestled against a window frame and a blanket of stars twinkled behind the glass. The familiar scent of the ocean, leather and spice blanketed Kini like an old shawl that threatened to tempt her into relaxation. This was a quiet place that was absent of confusion, muddling ideas and loud voices. “No,” A'khato rumbled. His large, calloused hands navigated a roll of bandages with meticulous precision around his sister's fingers. Her other arm was already fully wrapped with snug support that covered the entirety of her hands all the way up to her elbows. She winced when he brought a cloth, saturated in pungent minty mix, and wiped at some of the blistered lacerations. The area was then patted dry before he went to work again, little by little bandaging up her injuries. “Why?” Kini couldn't help but whisper, biting her lower lip. Her watery blue eyes surveyed his stern features, noting how there was an edge to his expression, but it was distant. Almost satisfied. His medium-length, wild cut locks of ebony hair were tousled in various directions and the charcoal paint on his cheek was smudged to the side. His motions paused and his lips pursed at her question, until he dragged his gaze up at her with a flicker of annoyance. Kini winced an apologetic smile and ducked her head with ears flattening sideways. Oops. “You've always been impulsive. Do better next time. This mistake could've made you useless, and don't let it slow down your work.” He reprimanded her, although his words were flat and bored sounding. He went back to navigating the bandages. The silence between them grew palpable, as was the knowledge that both siblings knew the question was unanswered. He'd given a response, of course. Yet just as A'khato could read Kini with little trouble, so could she pick up on his tells. He was calm, but he was too focused on simple motions. His tail was actively twitching back and forth. What aren't you telling me? She knew better than to prod an agitated King. At least this time.
She had her back pressed against the warm, stoned wall of the hallway. He smelled like ale and herbs, especially as he crowded his body against hers. Pudgy, greedy hands wandered over her frame and Kini could feel his breath against her right ear. It made her flinch and she'd asked him politely to leave that side alone, but for some reason people always mistook her. Clearly she trembled because she enjoyed it. She flinched because it was sensitive. She was just playing coy. I hate it. Her eyes were glancing past him though, and instead she absently nodded at the words he was mumbling. Something about smells and fancy clothes. It was hard to hear when he was mouth breathing against her right side instead of her left. She found herself focusing on the light beneath the crack of the doorway that led into the living room. Kini could faintly hear the deep, baritone voice of her brother along with a higher, barked voice of the woman he was meeting with. This was a job that her brother had asked her to come along as a temptation. Almost like old times, except now he thought she should be better as a “professional” distraction. Kini didn't mind. It gave her a flutter of happiness to be of use on one of his missions, even if it was a boring one without any fighting. Those were always her favorite. She enjoyed using her magic to assist him, while he killed anything that stood in his way. He was a force of nature. A force of nature that sometimes she was lucky enough to protec-no. Assist. Behold. Adore. “Fucking distracted?!” The man hissed as he gripped the top of her shoulder and gave her a shake. Kini's eyes snapped back to attention to flash him a delicate, apologetic wince. “S-sorry! I just thought I heard something. You seem very nice.” She bumbled out the words, although the stuffy man sneered in response. His fingers dug a little more into her skin, while the other scrunched up the airy, cotton fabric of her skirt and began to roughly yank at it. Once, twice and then the sound of tearing along with the painful stretch of the opposite side cutting into her skin announced the gaining success of his goal. “Even dressed up all fancy, guess you're still just a novice whore, huh? That's fine. You're gonna be here a loooong time. Plenty of suns, moons to train you to be a real slut.” His eyes glittered darkly and Kini felt a lump rise in her throat, even more than his pressing weight. “N-no. I'm j-just here as my brother's assistant. When he's done, I have to leave too. I already have a jo-” Her words were cut off by a barking laugh from the man. His greasy fingers on her shoulders instead moved to her neck and he leaned into the motion. Kini acted on instinct and drew in a quick, squelched gasp before a pressured strain began to build in her face from the lack of air. “Stupid kitten. Your brother is going to die here tonight. All this is just a wasted effort and he just brought a little prize for our game. So jus-”
The man was still talking, but the rest of his words drizzled away. Perhaps it was the frantic pounding of her heart or the pressure in her ears. Your brother is going to die. Why was it always her brother? A furrowed brow from a stranger. A clatter of knives. A bite to the neck. Desperation. Panic. A murmur of disapproval. Warm, questioning words between sips of honey-mead. Isolation. A threatened hand. I need him. My savior. My King. Don't take him away from me. Don't take him away from me. Don'ttakehimawayfromme! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM. Kini's eyes widened as they locked onto the man, but there was no flicker of fear. There was a heavy pause of staring into the eyes like an unhinged doll before silvery blue light spilled from her pupils to engulf her vision. She grabbed the man's arms, nails digging like a vice with a false sense of strength. The warm, pleasant air of the room plummeted like a stone and the man felt an annoying, tiny bite upon his wrist. Then another upon his elbow. Two near his hands. Two became four, four became twenty, twenty became a hundred and the biting pinpricks rapidly dominated his body. Kini stared blankly at him, ignoring the growing chill of his body as rime formed upon her own arms, harmlessly blossoming here or there upon the man's own bulbous form. He, however, stared in horror as skittering, chittering bugs of all shapes and sizes burrowed their way out of his skin. They tore through muscle, wriggling and bulging just underneath flesh. Thousands of legs tickled at every inch of him, both inside and out. They filled his lungs. They consumed his tongue. They crawled over his eyes and churned in his stomach. The man screamed, threw Kini to the side and fled to the door. He battered against it once, twice and three times before he broke his nose but managed to get it open. A'khato and the woman inside both started from where they sat across from each other at a dining table. The man barely made through the entrance before he collapsed on the floor, spasming and spittling at the mouth. His scream was silent, skin sickly but otherwise alive even if he looked blankly to the side from his new slobbering spot upon the floor. No bugs. No blood. Only flecks of inconsequential ice.
Kini's eyes had returned to normal and she staggered through the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her face was blanched, breath heavy and her partially rimed arms hung loosely at her sides with spidery, dark bruises along their lengths to compliment the smattering of bleeding blisters. Yet her expression was cold and unflinching. The collapsed piece of garbage went completely ignored in favor of looking to her brother, voice deadpan. “A'khato, they're trash.”
“Do you want me to be mad at you?” A'khato's voice broke the silence when he finished bandaging her arms. He peered up at her, searching. Kini quickly shook her head. She noticed the yellow, gold and black bracelet that he wore around his wrist. The ribbons had been carefully braided until they were thickly corded with a flat, obsidian gem nestled in the center. She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and made a show of wiggling her fingers with a wince. “G-good as new!” He rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, gesturing to the bed. “Rest here. When you leave tomorrow, don't be stupid and bother with your bag. You can get it another time.” A'khato sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and stretched languidly a moment after. His footsteps carried him to the doorway where he paused and glanced over his shoulder back at his sister. Golden eyes narrowed into slits and a sinuous growl formed into words. “Don't do that ever again.” He left. A muffled clatter of plates announced his location in the kitchen a few minutes later. She ducked her head and found toes wiggling to jingle the bell attached to her thin anklet. He hadn't waited for the answer, but she was grateful for the mercy. They both knew it was an empty promise to make, but even so- Kini couldn't help but capture a sliver of happiness from it.