The Night we Met // Kold

[Olalla]

Olalla G. Semenov

Male— Ardent— The Pitt— Bio.— Plot

His brows raised as his lips turned down in a frown as he listened to Kold with guarded interest, and a bit of embarrassment; having started this slow decent into sadness. Olalla watched as he mouthed a small whisper of gratitude and nodded his head in reply.

Kold had killed her father. What a fucking sight that must have been. The beast cleared his throat, sniffling deeply as to break the silence and to break the blockage in his throat. But the thought of little, small - smaller - Kold being dropped off in the middle of hot desert was sickening, more so than he already was.

Olalla's brows furrowed now, nose crinkling. "No assurance-" he interrupted with a grumble. "Kold I'm not saying what you did was justified, but your actions were damn near warranted given what he did."

"What if The Pitt hadn't taken you in, what if they had killed you? He had no way of knowing and took a chance he shouldn't have as a father," the beast said with a harsh scoff. Olalla's face softened as he recalled the words he just spoke. As a father. The fire that had been lit within his eyes soon dimmed, he sighed deeply and set his chin upon his paws. "As a father..." Olalla repeated lowly, with a twinge of sadness. His head bobbed as he spoke, but he soon raised it from his paws and looked at Kold now.
[member=16195]Kold[/member]

#psychosocial.

[Kold]

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YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED BY NOW - I'LL BURN THIS WHOLE WORLD DOWN!

Justified. Was it ever going to be justified? Yes, it was warranted, yes, he deserved it. She snarled gently, sadly, and nodded. "I could never justify the murder of my father." She knew this. God, how she knew it and god, how she wanted to badly to bury the grief. To let it rot.

Olalla's outright concern and frustration toward her father made her heart flutter. She never knew she needed someone to care. Always pushing the idea of telling someone down as though someone would scorn her. His expressions moved her from sadness and grief to that and some hint of curiosity. "You... you had kids?" Her voice was low, soft, and tears glistened in her eyes from the family conversation. Olalla, with a lover and children? It was odd. Both the idea and the feeling she got from thinking on it.

Kold Darcia Ní Broin - Pitt - Marauder

[sup]© tikki[/sup]

[Olalla]

Olalla G. Semenov

Male— Ardent— The Pitt— Bio.— Plot

The beast frowned, brows up turning in worried gaze. In truth, it was upsetting to see Kold this worked up, regardless of whether or not her father truly deserved it. However, it was far more upsetting to think of the gut-wrenching feeling that he had only brought upon himself. The thought of his own family. The thought of his mother's lifeless eyes, the memory of the walls slowly crumbling around him and the terror he saw in his father's face. The thought of the cold water that swirled around him. The thought of his son's crying. It was sickening, and yet there was some sick comfort in the familiarity of it all.

"You may not, no," Olalla began, clearing his throat. "Your father did that all on his own, when he left you and Icarus. So while you may not believe what you did was right, it stopped him from making the same mistake twice. The mistake of leaving his child at the doorstep of Hell."


The beast turned his face away, away from the prying, teary eyes of Kold; the grip the Kold had on him. Had he said too much? Had he upset her? Had he laid it on too thick? "I did." Olalla turned his head back toward her, but his gaze remained on the ground. "I was young, too young, when I met Akilina. It was childish love. She was in love with me but wouldn't dare admit it, and I was in love with the chase." His brows furrowed softly before sighing, knowing there was no backing out now. "When Timur was born, I knew the chase was over. Neither of us we're ready for the responsibility that having a child brought." He inhaled sharply, attempting to speak but was caught by the jagged feeling in his throat; clamping his jaws shut.

#psychosocial.

[Kold]

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YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED BY NOW - I'LL BURN THIS WHOLE WORLD DOWN!

Kold didn't say anything more on her father, finding that there was nothing more to say, nothing more to admit. And besides, Olalla's words made her feel at peace, if only for a while. And when he looked away, she managed to tilt her head down, to avoid such a blatant display. His words, his story, made her think. Love. Childish Love. A child out of childish love. It burned her heart to think of the implications.

Attempting to place a paw on his own, she inhaled to speak. "What happened... after Timur was born -- if you're okay with me... with me asking." She fumbled her words, though followed it with a very, very quiet, "In love with the chase.." Her gaze was at her own blackened paw, trying to distract herself as tears threatened to spill.

Kold Darcia Ní Broin - Pitt - Marauder

[sup]© tikki[/sup]

[Olalla]

Olalla G. Semenov

Male— Ardent— The Pitt— Bio.— Plot

His jaw clenched sharply as Kold laid a paw on his own, a shutter promised to compromise his composure. There was no pain in his chest and heart, nor grief or sadness. His expression was complex and unrecognizable, but it wasn't grief or sadness now. "There was an illness in Timur, a disease of the mind," Olalla croaked, looking at Kold now; watching, searching for anything. Desperate for a reaction. "A sickness that we could not heal, and when we were forced out of Akilina's parent's village, Akilina died to a rockfall. Leaving me to raise Timur alone."

The brute's brows upturned now, clamping his mouth shut again as a sob crawled up his throat. He exhaled unevenly, shaking his head. "There was a storm one night and our make shift hut collapsed, Timur was unharmed for the most part. We found shelter in an old cave. Olalla drew in a sharp breath, the air around him growing heavy as he continued; body rigid and words sharp. "But that's when he started crying, and crying, and crying-I...I couldn't get him to stop, all I wanted to do was get him to stop." His voice grew quiet in quivers. "I didn't know what he wanted, he was fed and he had a place to sleep- I don't- I don't know..."

"I needed him to stop, that's all I needed him to do." Olalla swallowed down thick spit, tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. "I killed him that night, and terrified of what Akilina might think.. I ate his remains in hopes she wouldn't see... I-I didn't mean to. Or maybe I did, I don't know what overcame me." He didn't dare look at Kold now, eyes staring in a slight horror. "When you brought Boy home, I was so scared of what might happen. That's partially why I haven't been that involved with him. I'm scared of myself when I'm around him, and I don't want to hurt him or you."
[member=16195]Kold[/member]

#psychosocial.

[Kold]

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YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED BY NOW - I'LL BURN THIS WHOLE WORLD DOWN!

Kold's eyes met Olalla immediately after he mentioned an illness, a glimpse of horror swimming in those obsidian eyes as she listened to him. An illness so young... the visions of her mother, vile and raving and frothing at the mouth, swam in her head. She grimaced and glanced away, steeling herself for the time being. But she leaned closer to Olalla, her paw never leaving him.

As he continued, the horror in her eyes became more and more prevalent, though not entirely because of him. She thought of Boy, of the tiny, quiet kitten she'd been raising. What would have happened, if he wasn't so strangely quiet? It terrified her to think about it, and yet... She turned to look at Olalla as he admitted to the crime. There was no anger in her eyes, how could there be? With how he was reacting and... how he'd admitted to being scared of hurting Boy. As was she. Terrified that one day..

After a minute of silence, she started. "I'm terrified that, one day, I'll end up killing Boy. Through some mad break in sanity, or on accident. I'm scared that, one day, I'll snap... just like.." Her voice trailed off, and she slowly retracted her paw. "Like what happened with his birth parents.."

Kold Darcia Ní Broin - Pitt - Marauder

[sup]© tikki[/sup]