04-21-2018, 02:36 AM
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[shadow=darkblue,right]KILLUA[/shadow]
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Fear was an easy emotion to bring out of any animal that was around. It wouldn't be difficult for Killua to figure out ways to make other's afraid of him in just a couple seconds. Sure, he didn't look intimidating compared to some of the creatures that were around, but he could make them realize that he could be their worst fears. He didn't use all of his powers just walking around, and kept most of them hidden from those that were around him to just make sure. The assassin could dwell into the minds of those that he had ended up capturing. He could dig and dig until he found their worst fears and cause them to hallucinate them. Maybe that's how Illumi was able to manipulate him so much, although he didn't really know all the different ways that Illumi could manipulate someone. Him and his siblings kept their powers hidden from one another in case they needed to use one another or to use their powers as a trump card to get them out of a stressful situation. He noticed the look that other's gave him when he did reveal himself to those that thought he was just some sort of regular kid that meat nothing to them. Expendable. Technically anyone in the world was expendable if no one cared about them enough. That's practically how the clans ran themselves after all. However, Killua only got those looks from other creatures if they were his victims. Killua had never thought about it before, but he had enjoyed the look that his victims had given him, because it meant that he was doing the job that his family had tasked him with correctly. Having never wanted to disappoint them after all, as he wanted to be the best son that he could possibly be. He wanted to win their approval which he rarely got unless he did something amazing to gather their attention. Killua didn't yearn to see those looks from his victims anymore. It was almost repetitive to see the fear in other's eyes, and half the time he just pretended like he didn't notice either. He tried to play it off like nothing had ever happened, but the doubt that would radiate off of other's would always be there. He remembered the first clan that he had been stationed in, and everyone had tried to welcome him, even with the sarcastic tone that he always had with himself. He carried himself with confidence, and that confidence pissed other's off because it made it seem like they were challenging them based on their abilities. Which wasn't wrong. There wasn't much to do in the clan that Killua had enjoyed, or figured out would actually be that enjoyable. He ended up having a lot of social anxiety when he wasn't trying to get his job done and actually interact with other's in a nice manner. He didn't trust himself to say the right words, and knew that other's would judge him so what would be in the point interacting with other animals? So, he avoided them until he got bored to the point that he needed some social interaction other than the interactions that he had with the voices in his head. The group that he was with for the first time didn't know what he was, but he got plenty of hateful glances from those that were around him. They didn't like his attitude and how he constantly spoke his mind whether or not it was rude. He never took other's emotions into consideration when he spoke and he didn't really do that now because why should he care?
One of those faces that he remembered specifically was Pierce. The other had been around when Killua had been stationed in that clan, and he remembered the looks the other had given the corpses of the targets that he had to get rid of that ended up on the border. Killua and Pierce didn't really get along with one another because they were the entire opposite personalities. Pierce didn't tolerate the language that Killua used, and Killua over chastised Pierce for being weak despite how big he always seemed to talk about himself. Or at least try to hold himself up to that standard, and it just made Killua laugh because he could see a bluff when he saw it. The two often got into arguments, and nothing happened between the two males before Killua ultimately left after sustaining serious injuries from his brother once his family realized that he had failed his first mission to kill that clan leader. It was a disgrace when it first did happen, and for a moment Killua thought that he was going to be killed for his failed assassination attempt. It had made his job difficult because he wasn't able to gather enough information on the leader's powers to make an attempt at her life completely successful. So when he did target the female, he was surprised to see how strong she was, being the same species as him obviously. She had accepted him with open arms when he first joined, and he originally thought that kindness as weakness. But the female had been leader for so long there had probably been several other previous attempts on her life. The leader didn't know what Killua was up to that very moment. Killua had used all of the stops to try and kill the clan leader, but ultimately he was overpowered for the first time in his life. It confused him. Not only that though, he became immediately afraid. Despite having so many near-death experiences over his life, Killua didn't want to die. He was young and knew that if he kept running away from his family he would be able to experience what the world was like around him, and maybe for once, he wouldn't end up being alone. The assassin had plans for his life, yet with the trident that was pointed toward his throat he knew that he couldn't beat the clan leader. Fear coursed through his body for the first time since he was just a kitten, and he waited for the killing blow to be delivered toward him. He had sustained injuries to himself, while the injuries given to the clan leader were mild and barely bleeding. She was strong. She didn't kill him. She made her weapon disappear, and spoke to him in kind words that Killua couldn't understand. Instead, all he could hear was the voice in the back of his mind telling him not to face an opponent that he couldn't beat. And that made him teleport away from the scene, and he tried to act like nothing had ever happened. The clan leader never spoke out in public about the assassination attempt. She constantly regarded him with as mile that set his nerves on fire because he didn't UNDERSTAND. He had just tried to take her life and yet she was remaining kind despite all that had happened. It went against all the logic that he had been told.
He would have guessed that she would have been furious with him and try to drive him off, but none of that happened. Instead, she continued to promote him through their ranks, despite him not doing much and just being around. Even with the sour attitude that he constantly had toward clanners, he started to mend in with them little by little. Ultimately his older brother ended up getting involved when he had never reported back whether he had killed the clan leader so that the client could pay them for their hard work. The assassin had to face his brother and there was no point in lying because the other would be able to see through it. The wildcat said the truth, and said that he didn't want to go back home with him. It was there that he was beaten within inches of his life, left bleeding in the snow. The clanners had tried to help him, but he immediately refused their help knowing that he could patch up his own wounds. He had tried to move from the spot that he had been in, but ultimately passed out from blood loss thanks to his smaller body. Zoldyck's didn't know what it meant to be kind. They knew how to hold their power over other creatures heads and force them to give them whatever they wanted without resistance. Any resistance would be met with their death, whether it be quick or slow it didn't matter. They only knew pain that they had been given through training. Killua's training even more extensive than the rest of his siblings to a slight degree because he was supposed to be the heir to the family business. Killua had a feeling that made his siblings jealous, and that meant he would never end up getting along with them, as they all wanted the fortune. Maybe Kalluto wouldn't hate him since they didn't seem all that interested in being a heir and maybe even cared about their older brother. He doubted that he would ever get a chance to ask the other though. Killua's ears soon began to un-pin themselves from the back of his head as they raised themselves for what the female had to say. He should have expected it. He really should have, but his like of being social toward other's would be his downfall. There was no hatred in the female word's when she spoke, and instead they sounded understanding. That confused him. She didn't seem to like the concept of death, and yet she continued to deny the past that had been dealt toward him. A past that he had never asked to happen. "Pleasant words...." Killua would echo to himself, in a confused tone that those rarely ever spoke with him had heard. He always spoke with such confidence, and now he was hesitating to even say another single world. His had been adverted from her similar gaze again as he looked down at his paw. He noticed the sound of rustling and noticed that there were bandages in her paw. She.... was worried about the injury he had just caused himself? It was so minor though, and he didn't even feel the pain that could have been there. His eyes moved toward the bandaged wound on his left shoulder and the wound to his right side. Both of which had been caused by him. Would she think differently of him if she knew that he had staged everything instead of being honest? Despite the way that London carried herself, she was strong-willed to be willing to talk to someone that could kill her easier than the caracal had tried to do almost several weeks ago. The scar that was across her body remnants of what he had done, but hadn't been quick enough to have it avoid the injury entirely. Maybe he should have if she was this willing to try and keep him calm and be there for her.
Why though? There always had to be incentive for everything, and thousands of questions bustled in his head. You are a puppet of darkness. You only care about taking the lives of others. The voice rang out in his head as a reminder that the doubt he always had was because of his family. He knew that his older brother was probably right, and yet he continued to want to spite his family and prove them wrong. Prove to them that they should have taken his goals and wants in life into consideration. Had they ever thought that he didn't want to be an assassin? They had just pushed their own agenda onto him, without a word. At her words about how the body didn't scare her, he couldn't help but laugh. It was soft and short, and probably wasn't the best time to laugh. It almost sounded ridiculous that the bodies didn't scare her. Looking back at the situation, she hadn't kept her distance from him when she approached the scene, and had approached him like it was any other day. Only caring about injuries. Only caring about his injuries. Killua felt his throat clench up at the thought of allowing other's through the wall that he had built. No. That his family had built for him. "The corpses didn't scare you, huh? You're certainly something else." Was it a compliment? Maybe. He certainly didn't sound like he was being rude though. It was true, most clanners that he had seen come across corpses would almost vomit their guts out and try to run away from the scene as much as possible. There was a possibility that the fellow albino could have blocked it from her mind, but from what the other stated it was obvious that she didn't have a good childhood like he did, and it probably was terrible for her. She was a little bit older than him after all, meaning that she had a little bit more experience with extended life than he did. The muscles around his shoulder tensed at her last couple of words. She was willing to trust him that much? The female didn't seem at all concerned after he had said such horrible things about himself. She never had a real friend before, and that made Killua swallow. He was probably the worst choice for anyone to pick as a first friend. He was destructive. He knew that. The self inflicted wounds across his body were mementos to that. He was unstable. Night terrors, auditory hallucinations. He had the entire package, and he wouldn't be surprised if someone called him crazy. Killua let out a shaky breath as he finally raised his head again to look at the albion clouded leopard. His eyes seemed to be calculated and less in distress as he was forcing the voice in the back of his head away. His telepathy seemed to be hlping in that regard, thankfully. Killua was looking at the female debating whether or not to reveal who he was. He doubted that he would have control over his body like this again for a while, so he might as well. Killua soon grew nervous, even visibly shuffling his white paws in the snow, and running his pink tongue over his lips, before he directed his gaze upward between the trees that surrounded them as he looked up at the cloudless sky. Up into the stars. Silence passed between them, before Killua finally spoke. "My full name is Killua Zoldyck. Whether or not the last name sounds familiar to you or not. There's a reason I never state my last name. I come from a family of assassins. Every single one of us are professional assassins, my mother, father all of them." Killua lowered his head again to look at the paw that he had pierced with his claws but just seemed to stare at the claws again as he thought about his past.
A bitter smile spread across his facial features. "They have high hopes for me, saying I was going to be the best assassin that ever existed in the world. They had my entire life planned out for me based on their expectations. Who the hell wants to have any of that? Eventually, the killing grew stagnant, and as I was able to explore the world I saw the way other's smiled. How animals that were the same age as me didn't have to worry about when the next poison injection would be or the next torture session. Or figuring out when the guards would be gone to sneak in to be able to kill a target. I saw them as they enjoyed life and I... envied them." A neutral look spread across his features. Part of him was telling him to stop talking. He was revealing too much about himself. Yet, he was tired of being alone. He was tired of being afraid, and having other's being afraid of him even if they had a valid reason to be. "After my first failed assassination attempt in my life, I was forced back home. I couldn't take it anymore though. I left home, having to stab my mother and brother just to get away from the damned place. I've gone through every sort of training imagineable, and breaking the habits that my family drilled into me aren't easy. I've taken more lives than a warbound clan or anti-clan put together. I stopped keeping count a long time ago." Killua stated in a perfectly calm voice, and he was waiting to see the horror that might eventually pass across London's face as he looked up at her from the paw that was still unsheathed and raised in the air. He glanced over her for a second as he used the raised paw to remove the bandages that were covering his left shoulder, hovering his claws over it, as if trying to make a point at how clean of a cut the injury was. "I lied about it being self-defense. These wounds are wounds I inflicted by myself, as I killed them before they could even fight back. I don't know.... what happened that day. Something... triggered like muscle memory. I hadn't been getting sleep and my body... just moved." A pained tone now replaced the calm one as he moved his paw from his shoulder to the front of his face, his brow furrowing as the pain increased through his head. Like a massive headache. He breathed heavily for a second before he forced himself to be calm again, his body language not expressing the emotions that he was internally feeling. "I'm a killer. My paws are stained with blood for all those that I've killed. I've killed things that are much larger than I am, dragons, mythical creatures, they're basically nothing compared to me. Sometimes I got tasked to kill clan leaders, and I have, but I don't take jobs anymore. I just.... want to live a normal life." Killua's wish came out in the end, and it seemed to be quick to be whisked away by the wind. Killua kept his jaw shut after that, and he would sneak glances toward London. He didn't mention the scars that littered his body, basically leaving no regular skin covering his body, instead all of it being scar tissue from the torture trainings that his family had done to him. Or how he barely felt pain anymore and basically felt numb for most of his life. How even trying to touch him would usually have other's recoil to how cold his skin constantly was. Thanks to his elemental powers but still. He waited. He waited and hoped for something that might not even happen.
One of those faces that he remembered specifically was Pierce. The other had been around when Killua had been stationed in that clan, and he remembered the looks the other had given the corpses of the targets that he had to get rid of that ended up on the border. Killua and Pierce didn't really get along with one another because they were the entire opposite personalities. Pierce didn't tolerate the language that Killua used, and Killua over chastised Pierce for being weak despite how big he always seemed to talk about himself. Or at least try to hold himself up to that standard, and it just made Killua laugh because he could see a bluff when he saw it. The two often got into arguments, and nothing happened between the two males before Killua ultimately left after sustaining serious injuries from his brother once his family realized that he had failed his first mission to kill that clan leader. It was a disgrace when it first did happen, and for a moment Killua thought that he was going to be killed for his failed assassination attempt. It had made his job difficult because he wasn't able to gather enough information on the leader's powers to make an attempt at her life completely successful. So when he did target the female, he was surprised to see how strong she was, being the same species as him obviously. She had accepted him with open arms when he first joined, and he originally thought that kindness as weakness. But the female had been leader for so long there had probably been several other previous attempts on her life. The leader didn't know what Killua was up to that very moment. Killua had used all of the stops to try and kill the clan leader, but ultimately he was overpowered for the first time in his life. It confused him. Not only that though, he became immediately afraid. Despite having so many near-death experiences over his life, Killua didn't want to die. He was young and knew that if he kept running away from his family he would be able to experience what the world was like around him, and maybe for once, he wouldn't end up being alone. The assassin had plans for his life, yet with the trident that was pointed toward his throat he knew that he couldn't beat the clan leader. Fear coursed through his body for the first time since he was just a kitten, and he waited for the killing blow to be delivered toward him. He had sustained injuries to himself, while the injuries given to the clan leader were mild and barely bleeding. She was strong. She didn't kill him. She made her weapon disappear, and spoke to him in kind words that Killua couldn't understand. Instead, all he could hear was the voice in the back of his mind telling him not to face an opponent that he couldn't beat. And that made him teleport away from the scene, and he tried to act like nothing had ever happened. The clan leader never spoke out in public about the assassination attempt. She constantly regarded him with as mile that set his nerves on fire because he didn't UNDERSTAND. He had just tried to take her life and yet she was remaining kind despite all that had happened. It went against all the logic that he had been told.
He would have guessed that she would have been furious with him and try to drive him off, but none of that happened. Instead, she continued to promote him through their ranks, despite him not doing much and just being around. Even with the sour attitude that he constantly had toward clanners, he started to mend in with them little by little. Ultimately his older brother ended up getting involved when he had never reported back whether he had killed the clan leader so that the client could pay them for their hard work. The assassin had to face his brother and there was no point in lying because the other would be able to see through it. The wildcat said the truth, and said that he didn't want to go back home with him. It was there that he was beaten within inches of his life, left bleeding in the snow. The clanners had tried to help him, but he immediately refused their help knowing that he could patch up his own wounds. He had tried to move from the spot that he had been in, but ultimately passed out from blood loss thanks to his smaller body. Zoldyck's didn't know what it meant to be kind. They knew how to hold their power over other creatures heads and force them to give them whatever they wanted without resistance. Any resistance would be met with their death, whether it be quick or slow it didn't matter. They only knew pain that they had been given through training. Killua's training even more extensive than the rest of his siblings to a slight degree because he was supposed to be the heir to the family business. Killua had a feeling that made his siblings jealous, and that meant he would never end up getting along with them, as they all wanted the fortune. Maybe Kalluto wouldn't hate him since they didn't seem all that interested in being a heir and maybe even cared about their older brother. He doubted that he would ever get a chance to ask the other though. Killua's ears soon began to un-pin themselves from the back of his head as they raised themselves for what the female had to say. He should have expected it. He really should have, but his like of being social toward other's would be his downfall. There was no hatred in the female word's when she spoke, and instead they sounded understanding. That confused him. She didn't seem to like the concept of death, and yet she continued to deny the past that had been dealt toward him. A past that he had never asked to happen. "Pleasant words...." Killua would echo to himself, in a confused tone that those rarely ever spoke with him had heard. He always spoke with such confidence, and now he was hesitating to even say another single world. His had been adverted from her similar gaze again as he looked down at his paw. He noticed the sound of rustling and noticed that there were bandages in her paw. She.... was worried about the injury he had just caused himself? It was so minor though, and he didn't even feel the pain that could have been there. His eyes moved toward the bandaged wound on his left shoulder and the wound to his right side. Both of which had been caused by him. Would she think differently of him if she knew that he had staged everything instead of being honest? Despite the way that London carried herself, she was strong-willed to be willing to talk to someone that could kill her easier than the caracal had tried to do almost several weeks ago. The scar that was across her body remnants of what he had done, but hadn't been quick enough to have it avoid the injury entirely. Maybe he should have if she was this willing to try and keep him calm and be there for her.
Why though? There always had to be incentive for everything, and thousands of questions bustled in his head. You are a puppet of darkness. You only care about taking the lives of others. The voice rang out in his head as a reminder that the doubt he always had was because of his family. He knew that his older brother was probably right, and yet he continued to want to spite his family and prove them wrong. Prove to them that they should have taken his goals and wants in life into consideration. Had they ever thought that he didn't want to be an assassin? They had just pushed their own agenda onto him, without a word. At her words about how the body didn't scare her, he couldn't help but laugh. It was soft and short, and probably wasn't the best time to laugh. It almost sounded ridiculous that the bodies didn't scare her. Looking back at the situation, she hadn't kept her distance from him when she approached the scene, and had approached him like it was any other day. Only caring about injuries. Only caring about his injuries. Killua felt his throat clench up at the thought of allowing other's through the wall that he had built. No. That his family had built for him. "The corpses didn't scare you, huh? You're certainly something else." Was it a compliment? Maybe. He certainly didn't sound like he was being rude though. It was true, most clanners that he had seen come across corpses would almost vomit their guts out and try to run away from the scene as much as possible. There was a possibility that the fellow albino could have blocked it from her mind, but from what the other stated it was obvious that she didn't have a good childhood like he did, and it probably was terrible for her. She was a little bit older than him after all, meaning that she had a little bit more experience with extended life than he did. The muscles around his shoulder tensed at her last couple of words. She was willing to trust him that much? The female didn't seem at all concerned after he had said such horrible things about himself. She never had a real friend before, and that made Killua swallow. He was probably the worst choice for anyone to pick as a first friend. He was destructive. He knew that. The self inflicted wounds across his body were mementos to that. He was unstable. Night terrors, auditory hallucinations. He had the entire package, and he wouldn't be surprised if someone called him crazy. Killua let out a shaky breath as he finally raised his head again to look at the albion clouded leopard. His eyes seemed to be calculated and less in distress as he was forcing the voice in the back of his head away. His telepathy seemed to be hlping in that regard, thankfully. Killua was looking at the female debating whether or not to reveal who he was. He doubted that he would have control over his body like this again for a while, so he might as well. Killua soon grew nervous, even visibly shuffling his white paws in the snow, and running his pink tongue over his lips, before he directed his gaze upward between the trees that surrounded them as he looked up at the cloudless sky. Up into the stars. Silence passed between them, before Killua finally spoke. "My full name is Killua Zoldyck. Whether or not the last name sounds familiar to you or not. There's a reason I never state my last name. I come from a family of assassins. Every single one of us are professional assassins, my mother, father all of them." Killua lowered his head again to look at the paw that he had pierced with his claws but just seemed to stare at the claws again as he thought about his past.
A bitter smile spread across his facial features. "They have high hopes for me, saying I was going to be the best assassin that ever existed in the world. They had my entire life planned out for me based on their expectations. Who the hell wants to have any of that? Eventually, the killing grew stagnant, and as I was able to explore the world I saw the way other's smiled. How animals that were the same age as me didn't have to worry about when the next poison injection would be or the next torture session. Or figuring out when the guards would be gone to sneak in to be able to kill a target. I saw them as they enjoyed life and I... envied them." A neutral look spread across his features. Part of him was telling him to stop talking. He was revealing too much about himself. Yet, he was tired of being alone. He was tired of being afraid, and having other's being afraid of him even if they had a valid reason to be. "After my first failed assassination attempt in my life, I was forced back home. I couldn't take it anymore though. I left home, having to stab my mother and brother just to get away from the damned place. I've gone through every sort of training imagineable, and breaking the habits that my family drilled into me aren't easy. I've taken more lives than a warbound clan or anti-clan put together. I stopped keeping count a long time ago." Killua stated in a perfectly calm voice, and he was waiting to see the horror that might eventually pass across London's face as he looked up at her from the paw that was still unsheathed and raised in the air. He glanced over her for a second as he used the raised paw to remove the bandages that were covering his left shoulder, hovering his claws over it, as if trying to make a point at how clean of a cut the injury was. "I lied about it being self-defense. These wounds are wounds I inflicted by myself, as I killed them before they could even fight back. I don't know.... what happened that day. Something... triggered like muscle memory. I hadn't been getting sleep and my body... just moved." A pained tone now replaced the calm one as he moved his paw from his shoulder to the front of his face, his brow furrowing as the pain increased through his head. Like a massive headache. He breathed heavily for a second before he forced himself to be calm again, his body language not expressing the emotions that he was internally feeling. "I'm a killer. My paws are stained with blood for all those that I've killed. I've killed things that are much larger than I am, dragons, mythical creatures, they're basically nothing compared to me. Sometimes I got tasked to kill clan leaders, and I have, but I don't take jobs anymore. I just.... want to live a normal life." Killua's wish came out in the end, and it seemed to be quick to be whisked away by the wind. Killua kept his jaw shut after that, and he would sneak glances toward London. He didn't mention the scars that littered his body, basically leaving no regular skin covering his body, instead all of it being scar tissue from the torture trainings that his family had done to him. Or how he barely felt pain anymore and basically felt numb for most of his life. How even trying to touch him would usually have other's recoil to how cold his skin constantly was. Thanks to his elemental powers but still. He waited. He waited and hoped for something that might not even happen.
snowbound -- snowseeker -- male -- 8 moons
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Tags | Updated 03/26/17:
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ASSASSINATION THE FAMILY TRADE
WE ALL TAKE IT UP
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albino serval | extreme difficulty | BIO