this is not how you do the thing | Vaas

Quasar grit his teeth and focused on the tree an inch from his nose. Electricity was his power. He should be able to control it without Vaas, without hand-holding hor coddling or harsh—BRAIN GLITCH—a mentor would slow him down.

The apprentice’s emotions overflowed within him like a river crammed into a cup. The guilt over Dovah’s accident ate him alive, like a belly full of maggots. Then there was the shame, a sticky yellow-green mood, from the time he almost ate a sentient child. To top the string of recent mistakes off, the resurfacing memories—BRAIN GLITCH—surged red hot anger in his veins.

To say his temperamental electricity magic frustrated him touched only his surface level emotions. The boy’s self-loathing ran deeper. THe crackling in his ears trickled up from the bubbling geysers of guilt and shame, sourced by a boiling lack of rage. All this emotional energy swelled and swelled.

The zaps criss-crossed between his yellow ears, faster and louder, and he focused so absolutely on the grey bark until nothing. The zaps cut to silence. The sparks stopped flying. The crackling in his chest died, leaving a hollow emptiness. Defeated, the sparkledoggo slumped and stared down between his green paws.

He needed Vaas’s help, didn’t he?

[sub][W]isker[/sub]

Nothing good can stay. People will croon and coddle a child, but Vaas job here was to direct. Direct that anger into a weapon that could be controlled. To push those emotions into tight boxes that went off when it was at the allowance of the owner of that emotion. Fear, anger, wrath, dependency. It was his job to teach, and it was Qeusar’s to learn. It did not make this easy- It only made it so much worse, because Vaas’ temper was foul and his impulses were frequent and often times dangerous to others.

He has to teach something he never had- kindness. It was such a bizzar thing, to be kind where shadows of his own mentor were harsh in comparison. It felt wrong and doubt tinged every movement stuttered behind the fluidity of his own style. Between the sparce amounts that Vaas had looked out for the small canid to teach something specific, there were moments of quiet- stillness that the tiger still doubted.

It was something else entirely to push back that. These powers were just another herdle- tide for them both. Where Vaas was inexperienced with his own- and sill horrified of it a resolution had grew. He would learn, would become a fine amount of control over it, it was just a matter of putting into practice what he had watched and seen when he was a kid, when his sister breathed just in the shadow of their mother and learned from her.

So he had, he had learned to which the tide called and to make ice of rivers. To make needles and melt the water into something warm and safe to drink and how to capture that water carefully from the air. It was an exercise in his own fear. In his own emotions, and it.. it helped.

No longer had the tiger had many impulsive decisions, not any form of senselessness truly and utterly: to the point of his own peace he found things to do to occupy time, he slept on a more normal schedule, cut back from his own gardens and instead looked out more than ever.

It was.. a surprise to see his apprentice with such a defeated look. It was rare to see the dog ever truly give up on anything, and he took the opportunity to let it become a tender moment. build him up break him down.

“what’s got you bothered, Quasar?
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"take me into your heart , accept me as your savior nail me to the fucking cross and let me be reborn" — an antagonist with a silver tongue , a pirate with nothing to loose and everything to gain . vaas montenegro ; he who lives to fight demons should be weary he himself does not become one ." it's not like i am fucking crazy — "

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Quasar’s head jerked up. Right eye twitching, his brows furrowed. How dare Vaas come to him now, after he slammed his head against his failure one too many times? Copper flooded his mouth; he blinked, huffed, and swallowed the bloody saliva. Fucking teeth. Couldn’t kill Palm Glade’s enemies, but damned sure could wound him.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” he growled, flashing his teeth before he turned his head away from the tiger. His blood pressed against his temple, throbbed in his ear, and he inhaled, exhaled, inhaled to fight the headache.

“I blinded Dovah. I nearly offed myself just to make a fire. I couldn’t even manage to use the damned thing properly in a real battle.” He snapped his jaws and glared at the tree, an intended target and practice lightningrod, but its unmarked surface only pissed the apprentice off further. “This fucking electricity won’t listen to me!”

His jaw set. Every muscle around his face and neck cramped like a vice, and the headache blossomed into pain. Tongue running over his fangs, he cut himself again as he grimaced. Why? He’d had his power longer than Medusa, Rhine, and Vaas. Why could they control their elements? How could he fail this badly?

“How… no, what the fuck do I even do with this dangerous power?”

[sub][W]isker[/sub]