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Private for Miriette, Heath, and Jefferson. Postdated to the 7th (their first birthday). Yes, I will post twice... Once with Gaël, once with Jefferson, after both of you have posted. Going to assume Heath came with Gaël and they met up with Miriette. Luperci forms.
They'd found him. How many months had it been since they'd left Aube de Musique behind, left everything they knew and loved behind to search for a lost cause they couldn't even believe in? The decision hadn't been a sudden one; the three had been pondering it for a while, each of them smart enough to know that they were likely to find nothing and return home empty-handed and without answers. In the least, they'd all wished to hear of their father's likely and deserved death, which would have been enough reason to turn back and live out the rest of their days without the anxiety and constant worry that the one-eyed tyrant would somehow return. The thought terrified Gaël; he might have been the eldest sibling, arguably the most mature, but the image of the terrifying cyclops ripping their mother to shreds haunted him still, invading his dreams and tremoring his body at night as if he was hairless in the frigid cold.
Miriette had finally found them just a few days before after weeks of separation--long enough for Gaël to be actually worried for her--and had reported the news then. Not only had she "accidentally" joined a pack (the girl was a liar, of course; surely she inherited that from their monster of a father), but the pack's leader was the monster they'd searched for all along. Gaël had never expected to actually find him; in fact, as eager as he had been for revenge or whatnot, the yearling had sustained a feeling of hopelessness throughout their search. He'd had no faith, unlike his siblings, but had maintained the attitude as the opposite. He questioned around when he could, but spent many days and nights alone on his quest, staring into the scenery and lost in his own thoughts. No, he'd never expected to find the Maluki that his mother had spoken of. That had been the name he'd screamed... she'd never forgotten it. Though his mother had mentioned that this Maluki must have been completely mad, Miriette had remarked that despite some despicable streak of shameless brashness, the "Jefferson" that led their pack seemed wholly sane. Though renamed and in a different mind, she'd said, it had to be him: the scars and the face that identically matched the memories engraved in her mind made no mistake.
Gaël had been primarily silent on their small trip towards what were the Phoenix Valley packlands, according to the directions their sister had gave before returning. She'd requested they'd wait a few days before catching up with her, in that she had "matters to attend to", though the dark-furred girl had little to say on what such matters were. Heath babbled on and off along the way, mentioning himself how surprised but eager he was to meet their father--a bit more earnestly than Gaël, or so it seemed. His younger brother was brash, reckless; perhaps he'd inherited it from Maluki as well... after all, their mother had been nothing less than an angel. Gaël, on the other hand, was resisting all urges to stop and talk himself out of the confrontation he'd been dreading since its confirmation, while at the same time seething beneath the surface in a silent, deadly passion for revenge.
They stood on the land's borders. The yearling's nose lifted to the wind, immediately picking up a scent that he could vaguely recognize as something he could have been related to and swallowed a lump in his throat. "She said she'd meet us here," he said quietly, turquoise eyes blinking as they overlooked the territory from afar. It was... beautiful. Funny, how such seemingly peaceful lands could have been under the control of something so ugly. "She'd better get here before someone else does."
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She had been sitting amongst the boulders that seemed to threaten to overtake the beach. She'd been there for almost an hour watching the tide beat against the rocks and attempt to drag them into the ocean only to fall away and repeat. She had known that the time at hand was getting close and she'd ventured to the edge of the pack's territory to think and to be alone. She'd observed the scarred beast that was suppose to be their father and yet she didn't know what to think anymore. The monster she remembered didn't seem to exist inside the packlands, only a steady leader who could be gruff and grumpy at times. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, her arms resting on her knees as she wondered what was going to happen at that moment when the confrontation rang out.
She'd been sitting there for a while when the breeze brought the sound of her sibling as she sighed and lifted her head. If it was going to happen it was now. She rose from the rocky perch she'd been taking and stretched out her limbs, delaying as usual as she traced her path out of the broken coast and moved to join her two brothers. Her eyes scanned over to Gael as she spoke softly. "I said I'd be here and I am." She wasn't sure how she felt about their plans but she had given them the information to get to the lands and she had said she'd meet them at the border. She'd upheld her part, now it came down to Maluki showing up.
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It had been some time since he walked beside his brother. For reasons unknown they had been separated for months. Heath didn’t understand where the other male had gone off to, while he wandered lands to find the wolf they searched for. Of course their sister was the one to find him, with the least effort and with a casual grace she always possessed. He had worked so hard, and still she gotten all the glory. Her words still filled his mind, revealing the secret of his location. Heath kept silent beside his brother, dwelling on the knowledge and on the future confrontation that was certainly inevitable.
He didn’t answer the male as he spoke, waiting and knowing that she would appear. She did, her voice soft and gentle, maybe hoping to sooth that large beast beside him. No one looked to calm the silent rouge, who boiled and bubble within himself. He wanted to see him, wanted to know his voice and if he could… taste his blood. The male was beyond words, and as always it hadn’t taken his long to get there. Gold eyes watched the horizon, waiting with uncharacteristic patience. Standing ready to see the face of the male who had destroyed their world.
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The green-eyed Patriarch did not much care for cloudy weather. In fact, the cyclops typically found himself going on nature walks rather than border patrols on days when the sun was shining and the air was fresher, but the clouds' decision to overcast and block out the blue of the sky did a number on his mood (while he was always an asshole, perhaps he was just slightly less of one when the sun showed its face). The air felt thick, humid; there was a particular, almost eerie feeling in Phoenix Valley that day, as Jefferson observed, and for reasons unknown the two-legged Luperci was walking on edge. Something seemed... out of place. His underlings were busy, perhaps, else they found the means to stay out of his sight completely, for not a face could be found on the packlands. He hadn't had a decent conversation with DaVinci nor Geneva in quite a while, giving the brute too much time to think and be alone. He wanted to be alone, right? Wasn't that what he'd always said?
The eeriness of the lonely packlands was discomforting, however, and perhaps the Patriarch might have admitted to wanting company or an interruption for conversation. Instead, he was patrolling borders he already knew would be as deserted as the rest of the land, as everyone else seemed to be busy except for he. With Inferni poised from afar and watching his pack's movements carefully, the one-eyed hybrid knew fully that he could not afford a day where his borders weren't checked and his underlings misbehaved.
As he passed through on his usual, daily route around the packlands, Jefferson was mildly surprised to find a few faces at the border's edge: that dark-furred girl that had put up such a fuss with Whinifred was there, though he did not quite recognize the other two. He'd already forgotten the fussy French one's name, and still hadn't gotten much time to get to know her actual story... but what he did remember was that she mentioned brothers who had deserted her or something similar, and the rather torrential looks in the eyes of the two males accompanying her had the Patriarch slowly approaching and calling as he did. "Who are you?" He said gruffly, scowl thick and distrusting of their presence.
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Miriette was quick and prompt, as Gaël might have expected out of her, but it was obvious that she was on edge as the rest. The yearling was somewhat surprised their father was not already present--surely Miriette had something in mind, but didn't plan on taking her brothers romping through a stranger's packlands where they could get attacked or sent away. Gaël might have been anxious to find the man that ruined their lives, but he wasn't about to let his sister but he or Heath in deliberate danger. He was, after all, the oldest brother. He had a responsibility and an image to maintain.
Heath's silence as they arrived was discomforting; Gaël had expected him to be too energetic to keep still or silence himself, but the eldest was wrong. The look in his brother's eyes was frightening, yet hardly foreign: it was the same look he always adopted when their father came up in conversation. Yet Heath's eyes suddenly shot to alertness and Gaël followed his line of sight: it led straight to what he might have expected. From a short distance, they saw him. Their father... as scarred and horrifying as his nightmares remembered, staring back at them with the most distrusting look. He didn't recognize them--but Gaël recognized him. The piercing green eye was the same as when he had looked over their dead mother so grimly and then calmly walked away from them forever. Maluki moved closer. Gaël froze, turquoise eyes blaring, and felt a fury within silently bubbling and broiling like nothing else. He did not speak when they were questioned. He stared, furiously wide-eyed, and felt the rage tremor within. Gaël was terrified and bloodthirsty all at once: and as Maluki approached, was rendered defenseless and could not act on either.
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She had known that Maluki would appear, she'd watched the male from a distance time after time, day after day as he'd done the patrol, almost every time he'd come upon the edge where they'd been standing about this time of day. Granted, DaVinci seemed to patrol every once in a while in place of the Patriarch but she had been willing to bet that the man they were looking for would be the first form to stumble upon them. Her eyes trailed over the forms of her two siblings as they stood there restlessly waiting. She hadn't given them any reasoning why she'd chosen the spot to meet them and she didn't feel she would need to. Settling in beside the two she turned her gaze away towards the break where she'd always spied the Patriarch's figure right before he appeared along the stretch of the beach.
Like clockwork the flash of the monster's pelt was caught just before he moved into the open and moved along the same line he patrolled. There was a path carved into the lands after the constant treading the leaders and border patrol had made to cross the lands. Her tail lashed nervously against Heath's side as she held her breath. Now was the moment where there was no turning back and she caught the eyes of the leader as he moved to confront the trio at the lands end.
Miriette could excuse him not realizing who she was alone on the borders but the words he threw at them made her misty grey eyes flash as she raised her chin proudly to meet his fierce gaze. There was silence from her siblings, something she hadn't expected. She'd assumed that Gael would have been the first to speak but instead his rage seemed to boil inside him, some personal battle being fought as she took the lead instead.
"Maluki, you do not.. recognize? No?" she asked, her words taunting, as she often used upon Heath when she wanted to get him in a fit just for amusement. This was not amusing, perhaps warped, but not amusing. "Ow astonishing.." She lowered her gaze, a soft bitterness feeling her words. "Must be.. blessing.. to..to forget." She was silent a moment before she let the last words linger. "but.. we remembers."
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He was uneasy, just standing and waiting. It wasn’t his style. Heath walked in, took a tour and then answered questions. He wasn’t afraid of the fight that might ensue, he wanted it. Following his brother’s lead meant that he stood at his side on the boarder, though he itched to move forward. The frustration began to build and with it that unstable anger that he was all too familiar with. The situation was a breeding ground for his rage, multiplying as the second ticked. Waiting for it to be set off.
Maluki's entrance wouldn’t be forgotten in the thin male’s mind. A memory that would forever be engraved in his brain, settled just beside the very bloody first meeting they had. Gold eyes stared at the battered and scared beast, green eye peering at them. His voice was heavy and rough, but held none of the insanity that Heath had expected and prepared for. Eyes went to Gael, before falling back to the male that had sired the three. Back furred paw shifted uneasily, as he wondered when the fighting would begin.
Miri spoke as the silence surrounded them, mocking him as if he was nothing more then another one of their siblings. The small male looked to her with the same annoyance that he felt when her efforts were directed toward him. Inhaling sharply Heath felt his stature rise, eyes watching him with ferocious intensity. Waiting for the moment he broke his stance, waiting for the moment when he made his first mistake. Bringing his voice into the game Heath spoke. Its tragic when a father doesn’t recognize his own spawn. A snarl filled each pause, and Heath took a threatening step forward. The ridge of hair along his back stood on end, showing that he was not scared, but ready.
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The eyes he was met with contained sparks like no other, as if his presence had set off some sort of fuse. It was strange, how the three glares were somehow reminiscent of a something he could not fully perceive; something within their eyes was familiar, and that eerie presence put the scarred cyclops on edge. Jefferson could see now that they were the siblings that Miriette had originally spoken of, as the three seemed to bear a few similarities, but for the most part the Patriarch was hesitant on how to approach them... that is, until the newly-accepted Loas girl spoke up. His single eye widened at the use of his former name, that which had been given him at birth so long ago and had since fallen out of use. Few knew of that name: Haku was one, but his younger step-brother didn't dawdle in the Patriarch's business. The others, Iskata and Laruku, were long dead.
Jefferson bristled suddenly and poised himself defensively, matching their glares with one of his own. Miriette continued with more vague and mystifying words, speaking of his memory that itself was long dead and forgotten. His amnesia had yet to clear, but after months spent as Jefferson without looking back on his misty former life, he'd given up on trying to remember. The cyclops' voice dropped to its lowest, gravest level, crawling up from the back of his throat and bubbling with suspicion and rage. "How do you know my name?" He snapped at the girl. One of her silent brothers spoke next, a fury within the boy's voice as dark as his own. The tawny male's words put Jefferson into a stupor; the cyclops stared at them with a furrowed brow and a hanging jaw, unsurprisingly caught off guard by the defiant admission. "Spawn?!" His voice leapt from his throat, cracking. The Patriarch then shook his head and awkwardly--yet gruffly--snickered: "Don't make me laugh. I don't have kids." Hell, the cyclops had only made love to a drunk girl, and that had only been a few months prior. What woman in her right mind, sans intoxication or blindness, would allow that, anyway? Regaining his composure, Jefferson stiffened his back and assumed the typical scowl and stare. "You've got me confused with someone else. If you don't have business here, leave."
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His siblings reacted as he might have expected them to, wasting no time to getting to the point. Gaël found it hardly tragic that their father no longer remembered them, let alone knew of their existence: he'd raped their mother and run off immediately, thus he would never have heard of her pregnancy or their birth. Gaël wasn't sure why he had returned that day when they were just a few months old, but the boy did know that their mother had feared the situation to repeat and attacked off reflex. Perhaps he'd known she would attack, perhaps not; Gaël didn't know how cunning this man could be or if he had simply lived off coincidences. Either way, he'd still killed their mother, and her dead, mangled body suddenly flashed before the boy's furious turquoise eyes.
Still finding no words to speak, the strong-silent elder brother took the time to inspect what was their mess of a father. Scars lined every inch of his body and the eye that Thomas had supposedly taken before crawling away to his death was still scarred and apparently useless, as the leader held it consistently shut. Old Tom had left quite the scar behind: it wiggled and waved in every which direction, as if Thomas had left some sort of signature in the beast's flesh. It served as a mighty symbol, a unique hashing that made Maluki instantly recognizable. Unfortunate, for when they killed him, someone would be able to identify the body.
Gaël still said nothing, lowering his head and correcting his stance to something more reserved, brooding; when the chance was right, we would still be prepared to attack. Still, turquoise eyes did not shift away, and his siblings did all the talking.
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She couldn't help but laugh as Heath cast in his own taunting words to the male as the three of them stood facing off to the scarred up beast before them. The silence of their other brother should have struck as a warning but they were so obsessed with this thing that was finally presented right before them, finally they could destroy his world like he'd done to theirs. Miriette's ears pinned back as a dangerous smile flashed across her maw. She liked the expression she saw wash across his face as she used his birth given name outloud. Her smile played once more as she asked. "What? Maluki.. it's the name you screamed to our mother as your raped her.." She narrowed her eyes as she bared her deadly fangs to the male. "It's the only thing she passed on to us, the only thing you allowed her."
A growl played in the back of her throat as the words seemed to echo all around them. It was the truth they'd grown up knowing, it was what had made them who they were today and what would possibly shape them further down the line as well. She took a step forward, her eyes flashing as she asked. "Why did you change your name then.." her eyes studying the male as she threw out suggestion. "To forget your dirty deeds? The blood on your hands? To hide from your past and everything in it?" She grinned as she laid the laws down right before his eyes. "You can't deny the truth Maluki, the product of your sins, reborn by the blood you spilled.." Perhaps they could have stayed simple, innocent in some ways had he not murdered their mother but once the deed was committed they'd been reborn, washed in the darkness by the twisted fate of their father who lived as though he was pure and holy now. A leader none the less.
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Who was he fooling? Heath thought as he watched and listened to the ragged and aged male. There was confusion in his voice and face, and it made Heath’s confidence grow and the distance between him and the one-eyed beast shrink. Heath was prepared, as he always was, for a fight. More then confident that, if the other made the wrong move, he would be able to overpower him in an instant. Gael would help too, he was sure. Once he had started his brother would be eager to help, Gael was always too cautious. But Heath was ready to face the pack that his father called family, and he would fight until they ultimately ripped him to shreds. He was ready for that too. The anger he felt and the raging fire that was so easily lit in his core could send him into a frenzy with the smallest of sparks.
Denial, it made him grin. Shaking his tawny furred head, his cynical smile not leaving his face. Miri’s words mocked the male, but Heath was beyond words. Speaking of the past made it even more real, reminding the crowd of what the monster before them had done. Heath pictured his mother, and as her saw her beautiful blood spattered face a low growl emitted from the depths of his throat. Bright white teeth shown as he felt his lips quiver. Heath even tried to calm himself, compose his features as he stood among his kin, but there would be nothing that could stop the anger from showing.
He was a caged beast between his siblings. He was not the control that Gael emitted or the pure unrestrained bitch that his sister was. Heath wanted blood, pure and simple. The urge was almost overpowering. He wanted the male to scream, and beg for forgiveness that Heath would never allow. He wanted revenge. And he wanted to taste the sweet air of death as he stood over the body.
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[html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... ltable.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Doo de doo, switching order with myself.
Gaël peered on as he watched realization and horror slowly cross the face of his scarred and worthless father, wrought on only by his younger sister's cruel and merciless words. She had the tongue of a viper, hissing and snaking this way and that with her eyes always set on the prize and fangs bared and at always at the ready. But she continued on, and on; the eldest brother hesitated to stop her, to tell her that she'd made her statement and that the poor man needed to think, but something held him back. Maluki wasn't a "poor man", he was a monster that killed the triplets' mother! He was scarred and useless, remember? Stop trying to give him excuses, Gaël, the growls inside commanded. He ruined your life.
Miriette went on, digging herself deeper and deeper with every caustic word that dripped from her lips. His bright, turquoise eyes shifted away from their father to glance at her almost quizzically, an authoritative but questioning look on his face: What are you trying to prove? Words meant nothing. Gaël himself hadn't said a thing. Telling their father what he'd done wouldn't be enough; he'd simply continue denying it until he ran them off the lands. And that was exactly what he did: he denied it once more.
Once more was enough.
Talons suddenly unsheathing in a moment's flash, the eldest brother erupted in the darkest of snarls and dove forward, breaking his silence only to attack the one responsible for his birth and terrible life. Jowls parted and baring the whitest of daggers and knives within, the big brute of a hybrid collided with his father at full speed. Having pinpointed the spots most vulnerable, the boy used strategy: jaws wrapped around and clamped the forearm that was so endearingly held against Maluki's chest in the sling that hid the countless wounds and worthlessness underneath. It was the source of his everyday pain, condensed into a uselessness he couldn't even fix. A hand seized and struck at the shoulder while the other leapt at the throat and clenched whatever was there, resulting in a gagged cry and gasp of breath from the pitiful leader and his son's menacing smile against his flesh.
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What left the dark-hued femme's tongue next shocked the one-eyed man beyond words. He, Maluki, had committed such an atrocity that the beast could hardly find thoughts to try and clarify; the girl staring back at him had the most gruesome of smiles, but one that Jefferson knew he recognized as his own. Their eyes, the color that burnt within, was the same rage and fury that lit like a fuse and burnt continually within himself, from the day he'd woken up clueless and scarred to the moment he stood in time then. He knew that anger to be true: their fury was his, they'd inherited it from him. The girl and her cruel, crooked smile, the boy with the ashened arm that reminded him of his own useless one, and the last boy with the eyes of tainted ice, whose silence suddenly chilled the brute to the bone. They all burnt the coldest of fires as one, and it was directed to the perpetrator, the criminal, the rapist.
Green eye, widened and horrified, slowly shifted back to the woman when she continued, and remained as such as she spoke. "No," he stuttered slowly, stiffly shaking his head. No, I don't remember, I..." He clamped his teeth shut, grimacing. What had he done? What was his curse: to have forgotten, or to have been gifted with never having to remember? "I'm Jefferson; I'm not Maluki anymore! I lost my memory -- I can't remember..." His words trailed away. His eye closed tightly, as if searching for something. No, he remembered things. Faces. Hundreds of faces. Alive, then dead in their blood. Happy, shocked, dead. Unsuspecting, dead. He remembered looking down on them and laughing as scarlet rippled against and stained his feet. There were so many of them -- so plentiful that it became hard to distinguish when their events had been: during his amnesia or after, when he wandered the land searching for himself in the fog. He didn't know who she was. He didn't know who they were. Jefferson was... afraid. Their words, their eyes, their scowls scared him. Scared.
The sound of a snarl erupted the fighter's instinct within him, however. The dazed brute threw his eye at the third, once-silent boy, suddenly exploded into a monster with a remarkable speed that Jefferson immediately recognized in his own, but had no time to think about when the boy with the tainted eyes made contact. The dig of the silent boy's teeth into his already pained, hopeless arm sent a hiss and an instinctual snarl at the Patriarch's lips, but it was too late: teeth dug in deeper and his throat was seized, cutting off air. Eye widened and he gasped for breath, but the deadliest of scowls darkened his features and the hybrid reflexively clamped his good arm on the boy's defenseless back, preparing to rip away. No, shot his conscience. No: he's your son!
"Oh, goddamnit!" He shrieked into the sky, seizing the back of the boy's neck while kicking out the back of his leg and ripping the yearling from his contact and throwing him aside and onto the ground. As he was pulled away, the boy's jowls dragged along in the flesh of Jefferson's bad arm, at which the Patriarch howled and gritted his teeth: the sling was ripped and his arm now hung uselessly at his side. He held it tightly with his other hand; rivers of blood flowed over his fingers. "Fuck!" he shouted, then peered his piercing green eye at him in a crazed bewilderment that nearly matched their own. "You little shits can mock me all you damn well please, but you won't take me down!" It was true: he was a seasoned fighter whose killer instincts ruled his actions. Surely they recognized that: they were only yearlings and wanderers. He wasn't going down.
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Miriette just laughed at the male that had no claim as their father yet had been the one who made them. Her cold silver orbs glared at him as he tried to deny it all. Her voice like ice as she stated simply. "You can't deny the truth.." Not when the truth was looking you in the face atleast. She straightened her shoulders as the male seemed to suddenly begin to break down. The male she'd thought was so strong and lead the pack like a leader should was soon bringing her to believe that perhaps her beliefs of the male were all wrong and he was just a fake all along. She shook her head and had been about to turn to Heath to throw a disgusting remark about their father when out of the corner of her eye she saw Gael's form lunge at their mother's rapist.
"Gael!" she shrieked as she realized just what was going on. She pulled herself back as she watched the two struggling, finally her brother was dumped into the dirt as she let a snarl erupt from her throat at his words. "We won't or we can't?" she growled as she sized up the bastard. "You don't deserve te live.." She glanced towards Heath, not knowing if she actually wanted to attack the male or not. He was their father, but he was also their mother's rapist.
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It all so very convenient for him, to have lost all memory of the devilish deeds that had had committed. Heath knew it was a lie, knew that everything that they had witnessed was within that males mind, if he wanted to acknowledge it or not was another story. There was nothing about the male that Heath could, or would trust. He was monstrous, his one eye a token given by the deceased father figure the three held, a prize that Thomas had left for him and something that Heath wanted to rip from his face. It enraged him further, as if his anger had no limits. It wasn’t until he saw the actions of his brother that Heath prepared for his own. In a moment’s time, what seemed like less then a second Gael was on the ground again. The beast looked to the rest of them, and Heath almost saw it as a challenge, his words and the unspoken ones that were written on his body. Heath postured himself, his tail and ears high. Moving in front of his snarling sister, Heath did not prove to protect her. He only wanted to show that he was ready. The scars he bore were ones that he had collected for him, just for his father. He wanted only a bite, a taste to know the power that his older brother hadn’t even seem to touch. You deserve no mercy either. You took her dignity and then her life, both without mercy. Maybe they should rape him first, a cruel smile teased his lips at the thought. Who would scream then? His jaws snapped at the male threateningly. Jaws he had inherited from his father, along with the killer instincts. His sense came from his mother, and pushed him passed the hate and anger but only briefly as he saw Gael on the ground. It was obvious who would win this fight. But there was something else that he wanted to give him, something that he could injure no mater what form they were in or how strong he might be.
Hope this new conscious will let you sleep at night, knowing your pups remember the moment you killed their mother. he spoke with as must rage and control he fought with. As easily as he rose to anger Heath fell from it, or at least enough so that he was able to turn his back on the male. He didn’t care what became of him, or at least for this day. He would live, and Heath could not control the guilt that may or may not touch his soul, if it existed. Lets get the fuck out of here. He spoke to Gael, slightly disappointed in his brother.
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In the end, he somehow believed.
The words that Miriette muttered at last echoed in his head, bringing a terrible cringe to his eye and a grimace to his face. His bad arm flooded over with blood, but the one-eyed brute hardly noticed its sting; the single green eye that had survived the memoryless fight with Thomas could only gape at them. He saw the resemblance. He recognized their fury. He understood their pain: it was the same as what he felt, the same despair he had for losing his memory. Jefferson knew only shame for something he could not remember, something his children could not even forgive him for. In the end, he didn't deserve forgiveness. Their birth was his fault -- the pain in his arm was his fault.
And somehow their meeting had given him insight on how his life had been. According to the late Iskata and Laruku, he'd been happy once. Maluki had originated as something good, something honest and eager to make a life of himself. He'd been a troublemaker and an adventurer in his youth. Somewhere along the line, he disappeared... and that was the most Jefferson knew of it. After that disappearance, the many clouded and unexplainable flashes of memories he had of fighting and killing somewhere fell in line. At some point, he'd raped their mother... and if that was the case, there could have been more. There most likely were more. He could have been a father of dozens, and for all he knew, they could have all been out thirsting for his blood. For all Jefferson knew, this meeting was the first out of many.
The other boy caught Jefferson attention when he moved, immediately forcing the father to reposition himself defensively in case of another strike. Instead, the boy's attack was verbal and accusing. You deserve no mercy either. This, he was well aware, if it was all true. He wasn't completely heartless. The boy broke into some crooked, wicked smile; it sent chills down the cyclops's spine, and for a second, it was if he was looking into a mirror. The sight and the sound of his voice was haunting... and yet so quickly dismissed, when the boy decided it proper to leave. They turned, after sending respective glares and stares, and started away.
And once alone, Jefferson could only fall to his knees, breathe, and stare into the sky. Ten thousand thoughts tore and slashed at his wits. His muscles ached as if his body would fall apart at any second. It felt like he'd survived countless traumas all at once, like his world had been turned and shook every which way. He hated it. He hated all of it.
He could never forgive himself for it.
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