Burn your biographies, rewrite your history

Clemente

They are like alley cats standing in uneasy counterpoint, he a kitten with fluffed fur and tiny needle teeth, she with wicked claws and no need for such showy displays. But as recognition settles in both the hackles smooth and Clem's starstruck countenance returns with a swiftness. She deigns to use the shortened name he had given her, and the young boy practically puffs up like a preening pigeon beneath such a simple offhanded greeting. Over time her presence may not inspire such intensity of a reaction, but Wessex is still so lofty and prestigious in his eyes. "Are ya testin' it out?" He's not sure how such acquisitions work here, but if it's new it makes sense to practice it.

Scuffing a shoe against a loose rock in the rubble, he shrugs his shoulders. "Explorin'. I wanna find all the secret places here, and it's quieter at night." Though he tries to hide it there's a relief to his expression, a gratitude for the lack of unknown, nosey people who ratchet up his anxiety. Caido people are just so much more annoyingly interested in his life. Like they've never seen a damn kid before.

It feels almost taboo to talk about the meeting, the inevitable decisions that had come about. His shoulders hunch automatically, history telling him he's treading on delicate ground and may be punished for his insolence. "After...after the meeting. Are you okay? With not uh...bein' Queen?"

i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

_{Table Code by Sky!}