Private To Flock Together

[Damsy Callat]

B E A S T M I S T R E S S​

Tag: Acantha Malvern​

Wearing: - x -​

Location: Drake Den, Netra'yaim; Krant​

She had been feeding the tuk'ata when she heard those unmistakable echoes. ​

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Untombing Drake Den was no small feat. The boulder which blocked what was still half of a majestic door; now with a single, average humanoid-sized gap rended into it; was certainly tall and sizable, but also of unusually dense material. Few could move it without great aid from the Force, and fewer yet were allowed to outside of Damsy's presence. Of course she had designed it as such in both regards, thinking that the catacombs, for all their invaluably man-eating curiosities, needed more security than any door could offer. It was right and good that House Verd's Akaa'kalyr had taken a fast and intense interest in the wellbeing of her family's war beasts, as they were an integral part of the army.​

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If possible, Keziah burrowed herself further under her keeper's waved hair towards her nape. "I doubt it's trouble, Kezi," Damsy muttered, wiping blood from handling the hound's meal on her tights. Not too much, she actually meant - just some poor sod that would soon know the wraith of the Siren of Krant was not restricted to the submarine. Damsy took to the nearest through-running corridor, relying on her wrist-mounted HUD to guide her towards the sounds continuing to emanate from somewhere. Or, something. They had morphed from the aches of rock against rock into soft chirps of a voice. While she couldn't make out the words, nor could the integrated AI, they sounded vaguely Basic.​

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A series of muted but rapid blips of technicolor informed the sithspawn she had closed in on her mystery. It was standing in yonder alcove, one that thankfully nothing dangerous resided in. Spiders, strange-looking but benign, had made their home in one of the empty animal pens months ago and, when approached by a battle-brother about possible modes of extermination, Damsy had vehemently protested. She slid into cover behind a stalagmite formation encrusted with unhatched egg sacks. Ever so slowly, she peered around it and past hanging webs into the cavern.​

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A young woman was within. Her side was to Damsy, but revealed enough for the latter to realize the former was not of the House. ​

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But, for the first time since her defeat on Dagobah, Syreni was quiet in Damsy's mind. No mix of pent-up anger for the Legion, hate for her father, hunger for power lashing out at the undeserving. Porcelain white and jet black was the colorblock of peace and quiet and something else. Damsy canted her head. It knocked the word loose: kinship, real and true, through separate but alike genesis rather than honor-bound duty. Among sithspawn, not Mandalorians. Damsy put her hands up in a show of vulnerability more than surrender. She stepped into the alcove slowly, but announcing herself assertively enough: ​

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"Hello, starfish." ​

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"Who are you?" She barely even paused to receive answer. Instead, she blinked, trying to contain a ribbon of rage generated by her conscious half and directed at someone yet to be named. "A-and how did you get here? I told the boys no sentients in my Den."​

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After all, a dragon was not a slave...​

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nor a siren...​

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or a harpy, either.​

​

​

 

[Acantha Malvern]

Damsy Callat ​

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The heavy rock crunched across uneven terrain as it slid slowly out of place. Father had told her it would be difficult getting in here, but he had failed entirely to mention a rock a thousand times the size of Acantha. Even with her natural affinity to the force, it was a little heavier than she was used to moving. After a few minutes of intense concentration, she finally managed to eke out a gap big enough for her to squeeze through. Acantha blew a puff of air at the stray strands of raven hair covering her face, both the shadow and the beast mimicked one resounding thought.​

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This had better be worth it..​

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A warm, rushing breeze escaped the never-ending black the gap had revealed, and with it, it brought a thousand scents. Acantha stuck her nose into the air, inhaling them all deeply. An attack of new experiences filled her nostrils, which much to her surprise, incredibly excited the shadow. There was something far more interesting than animals buried within these depths. Something that she could not quite place but felt strangely familiar. Like walking into her own room after someone else had been rooting around in there.​

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It urged her forward. Soon enough, she was being swallowed whole by the deafeningly dark caves. Only vaguely aware that her footsteps echoed loudly off the cool rock walls, Acantha pressed forward. If it were not for a dimly glowing light in the distance, she would have assumed that the caves stretched on for miles. Darkness had a way of doing that. Making things feel as though they were everlasting. Fortunately for Acantha, she had an extremely close and affectionate bond with it.​

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The light was man-made. She could tell by its harsh white glow and the way it flickered ever so slightly. Father had said to expect strange and mysterious things in this cave, but he had made no mention of sentient life. As far as she was aware there was nothing in here save for some beasts of curiosity.​

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As she came closer, the light opened out and pooled in perfect circles across an alcove, decorated to the nines with thick pillars of rock that hung by threads from the ceiling. Acantha tilted her head to get a proper look at them, but the sensation made her dizzy. Beyond that, the alcove had seemingly filled itself with a soft scuttling sound, like pebbles being dashed against marble. Acantha drew her gaze down to the spotlights, squinting to see past them into the shadows.​

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“Oh!” Her sweet trill exclaimed into the darkness. A beast with several legs made its way around the edge of the alcove, clinging close to the sanctuary of darkness. Though Acantha herself was far from frightened of it, she was keenly aware of the fact that it was frightened of her. “Don’t be scared. This little bird does not eat bugs.” She did her best to speak in a soothing tone. It came far easier than trying to display a similar type of emotion to humans. She understood animals far more “You are completely safe! I’m just exploring.” The spider made some sort of clicking sound which pierced Acantha’s eardrums in a mildly pleasing tone. She took that to mean that it accepted her presence.​

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Her shoulders were almost about to relax when another breeze brought that strangely familiar scent careening into her nose again. Acantha made no sudden movements and kept her gaze fixed firmly on the spider.​

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It was not long before the sound of a voice cut clean through the silence Acantha had left behind. It belonged to a woman and an angry one at that. Acantha’s face immediately fell, but the stranger would not have been able to see this. Starfish? The shadow questioned in her mind. She blinked a few times to clear the thoughts that it followed with. “HelLllooOo, little chick.” She responded in a sing-songy tone. “My father told me I might like it here, so I flew here, on a ship.” Barrelling into an answer, and maybe providing an explanation, was the only thing Acantha could think of to calm the tint of rage in the stranger’s tone.​

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“And I do not know who the boys are, but nobody told me that someone lived here.” Rocking back from her heels to the tips of her toes, Acantha continued. “I’m awfully sorry if I disturbed you.” Domino had told her it was good to apologise to people who were mad. It fell under the blanket of empathy, something which she was still attempting to grasp. She used the momentum from her rocking to turn sharply and face the direction the scent was coming from.​

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Whoever it was felt the same way the spider did. They clung to the darkness too. Acantha did her best to smile. The same smile she used to make Domino smile. That was the friendliest face she could manage. After all, she did not feel threatened by the voice, despite the fact that it was angry. She was far too curious for that. There were only two people alive in the entire galaxy that Acantha did not want to consume. One, her Father. The other, Domino. Yet now…​

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There was a third.​

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Even the shadow was strangely placid in their presence. There were solid and tangible reasons for the other two escaping her monstrous hunger, but there was nothing of the kind for this stranger. In truth, simply calling it curiosity would be making light of the situation.​

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“My name is Acantha." She stretched her smile out a little wider. "What’s yours?”​

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[Damsy Callat]

No hesitation.

"Damsy." Despite the nest she had made at the far end of the catacombs, she "Don't quite live 'ere, but I maintain this here Den. The boys help out." Another cant of her head. "I tell them not to catch sentients for the bestiary. We might be a clan o' dar'manda, but we ain't savage." The mischievous upturning of a corner of her lips. "If you're here of you own accord, 'guess I don't need to whoop one of their backsides."

Acantha Malvern

 

[Acantha Malvern]

"Damsy." The little bird repeated as if committing the name to memory. For some reason, it rang some distant bell in the back of her mind, but it was the same bell as the scent she seemed to be producing. Just far enough out of Acantha's reach to place properly. It was the most frustrating thing she had experienced since that day with Domino out on the boat.

When Damsy spoke again, Acantha's entire body shifted to face her properly. "As much as I would probably enjoy watching you do that, no. Best not." Acantha offered her a smile that looked as though it was meant to be genuine, but it came out rather warped. "I have several questions..." She didn't want to bombard the woman, but that was just her nature. Acantha hadn't been alive long enough to learn the meaning of control. Or at least, not in a situation where it wasn't her versus some life-threatening situation.

"What's a bestiary?" She began. "Why do you smell familiar, and what's a dar'manda?" As she spoke the last word, despite never having come across Mando'a before, her tone was eerily similar to Damsy's. Almost note-perfect, if someone had the ears to hear such a thing.

 

[Damsy Callat]

Question, always with questions, a leader's responsibility to answer.

Not her favourite, but just she had to do it. Came with the station. Still, she didn't find herself annoyed now. That much was somewhat confusing never minding the draw that Damsy felt on her heartstings to the starfish before her; she had grown over her military tenure to distrust, even dislike, the age bracket to which she looked to belong. They were arrogant in most cases, or else just naïve, both qualities that too often spelled death for them, which would be unfortunate enough if their mistakes didn't take swaths of veterans to an early grave as well.

Something about this, though, Acantha's latter, was endearing rather than off-putting. It was in ways as she had been when the real Darth Metus had come to collect her off Kamino. She had been a few years her senior, but just in physicality. Not mental state. It had been very fortunate that the Confederacy had taken a strange fish girl who thought that giving recently-bloodied fish was a perfectly good means to make friends and not just taught her the way of the worlds but how to make those worlds bow to her.

In the way they had patiently answered all her questions, she was about to answer Acantha's in turn before--

"--what's a dar'manda?"

Oceans' fethin' tide.

She did in fact have the ears to hear such a thing; of course she did. The ears of virtually any proper predator were keen, but that went double for an aquatic one, triple for eardrums made to withstand the pressure of great depths exposed to atmosphere feather light in comparison. It had always been easy to hear on land, given it was under standard psi, so easy in fact that she had come to learn how to ignore most of what she heard. Whatever was happening elsewhere in the catacombs -- a fight between two particularly territorial hounds, the calm breath of another taking a nap in its alcove, the spider back to weaving its web behind Acantha, on and on -- wasn't as pertinent to the present as the conversation unfolding a few meters in front of her.

But this? This was the exception to that rule of hers.

"Wait, wait," Damsy began, stepping closer as she did. Kezi even peaked her head out of her owner's hair, seemingly also intrigued by either the situation's sudden gravity or else just Damsy's livened emotions. Excitement. Bordering on ecstasy. She hadn't felt this for a while. Speech mimicry was a somewhat far cry from siren song, but she felt an instant, instinctual connection even still.

She extended a hand generally. "How did you do that?!"

Acantha Malvern

 

[Acantha Malvern]

The surprise on Damsy’s face certainly came as a surprise to Acantha. Much like she imagined the spider felt when she first arrived in the caves, the young bird felt rather taken aback by this sudden display of emotion. The sound of Damsy’s voice protesting patience echoed through the chamber, and through Acantha’s mind. Acantha threw her hands up to show that she was not going to go anywhere. What else could the fishy mean by “wait”?

“Oh!” Her sweet, childlike tone exclaimed loudly as if the penny had suddenly dropped. As if someone had strolled up to her brain and flicked the switch that powered it. “You mean this…”

Acantha puffed her chest up with a rather proud expression on her face. When her lips opened again, it was Damsy’s voice that poured from them. “Hello, starfish.” It was far quicker this time, and far louder than it had been before. As if she had grown in confidence in the few moments it had taken Damsy to ask about it. “I can’t say how it works exactly. It’s a trick the shadow plays sometimes. It makes people feel safe.”

She did not feel like it was pertinent to add that the trick was to lure people in. To make them feel safe and surrounded by familiar things so that the beast within could feed. Firstly, Acantha was not entirely sure where Damsy’s allegiances lay. Father had said there were two kinds of people. The good kind and the bad kind. The way Domino had reacted when Acantha had told him what she was capable of told her that she was, without a doubt, the bad kind. However, she rather liked Damsy so far. She didn’t want to frighten her off if she was the other kind of person, so that was all she said.

Suddenly, another look of realisation crossed the young bird’s expression. There must have been a reason for Damsy’s excitement. Maybe she had met someone like Acantha before. Or maybe, just maybe… “Can you do it too?”

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

The shadow…? She repeated in her mind, turning each syllable slowly over. Without knowing exactly what that was, she felt she had one too -- in Syreni. Damsy had probably always had it too; it had just finally fractured off the rest of her being virtually overnight and made itself known. But, even still, no. “My voice can’t do that, but…”

Damsy paused, using a momentary pause to chew at the inside of her cheek. Options, options. The first one that had come to mind was too dangerous -- for Acantha rather than Damsy. They knew the latter, respected her, but a newcomer? They rarely got along with new additions from the first acclimation. So, no: singing on the ground she stood, just a few meters from the threshold of this alcove, would attract all of the beasts around to them, Acantha probably excepted if she was what Damsy suspected. Though she had no first-hand evidence to substantiate it, she assumed another spawn would be immune of sorts to her particular type of lure.

“Watch.”

Damsy all but ran towards Acantha before sidestepping and sashaying around her to the spider’s nest. She knelt down on the ground after clearing a space of debris with the rounded toe of her boot. She came level with the busy arachnid, and held out her hand to the ledge it was on. It scurried into a nearby hole in the rock wall. With a glance up at Acantha to make sure she was indeed watching, Damsy turned her attention back to the web. Her lips barely parted, but out from them tumbled the notes of a chorus all chirpy trills and vocal inflection. Her voice was soft and quiet enough to trap itself in the local acoustics of the cave. Soon, the spider slipped out of its hiding place and crawled onto Damsy’s palm. Much smaller face to much bigger face.

The melody faltered as soon as it had come. The spider, suddenly realizing where it was, scrambled away once more. Before her only other audience member could comment, Damsy said, “'Trick of the squaloid, my shadow in a way I reckon. I’m a shifter. A monster. If I wasn’t sentient, I’d probably be down here.” But not as a beast master. Force. She didn’t need any other reason to hate her Father; that fact was plenty. The accident of consciousness had spared her a life of completely blind servitude. “That’s why I don’t keep beasts with full sentience. Because it’d be cruel.”

And because that wasn’t her.

Acantha Malvern

 

[Acantha Malvern]

There was no hiding the mild disappointment that dominated her expression when Damsy answered in the negative. However, it was quickly wiped away when her newfound friend seemed to pause to think hard on something. The debate in her mind seemed to stretch for a while. So long, in fact, that Acantha found her eyes wandering around the cave in search of something to focus on. She had just settled her mind on the shadow of a spider tucked away behind one of the spikes in the ceiling when Damsy’s voice filled the room again.

She told her to watch, and Acantha did. With vigour. Almost as if she were a small child experiencing the miracle of a sweet shop for the first time. Her every move was as enticing to her as the biggest bar of chocolate, or the largest rainbow coloured lollipop.

When she ran at Acantha, full speed, the little bird should have reeled backwards in fright. But she did not. Of course, if Damsy had presented a threat, she most likely would have. Yet somehow, despite her being a near-perfect stranger, Acantha felt like she knew her. Like she had always been part of her life. Acantha had just forgotten her existence somehow. Perhaps it had something to do with her scent or the fact that they both had an affinity toward animals? Either way, she was hardly frightened by her sudden approach. It only served to make her more curious.

Damsy crouched, Acantha joined her.

Not knowing what to expect, the little bird sat poised to be amazed. Lips partially open, wide black eyes drinking every move the spider and its master made, barely breathing from anticipation.

Sound began to pour from Damsy, unlike any other sound Acantha had heard before. It was beautifully haunting. Dominating everything in the cave until Acantha felt surrounded by it entirely. It could hardly be considered music. Acantha knew music. She heard it sometimes, creeping up the corridors in the palace and through the cracks in her door. This was something altogether different. It had a melody too it that sung to Acantha from such an instinctual place it almost frightened her. She was just as dazed as the spider appeared to be.

It was only when Damsy spoke again that Acantha snapped out of her trance.

“Squaloid.” Acantha repeated, her beam almost illuminating the cave. “Squaloid, squaloid, squaloid. That’s fun to say!” It was not just that the word was fun to say, it was fun to hear too. Acantha liked the way it bounced off the cave walls, full of energy and life. It was only when the echo died down that Acantha thought about the rest of what Damsy had said.

Something about the latter part of her comment made Acantha feel a little sad, in a way that she didn’t quite understand. It was cruel to keep something sentient trapped in a prison like this, but why did that make Acantha feel sad? She did not live in a cave. She lived in a palace. With a roof over her head and fresh meat whenever she wanted it. Perhaps it was the way Damsy had said it. Like she knew first hand what being trapped felt like. Acantha did not want the conversation to turn sad. Nor did she think feeling offended by the way Damsy had said the word monster would be a good choice. So, she chose something else to focus on.

“A shifter? Does that mean you can change shape? Into whatever you like?” She seemed almost jealous as she asked, and quickly followed up with an explanation. “I have only have two forms. Three I guess if you can count this one, but I don't. The shadow and the beast. I did not get to pick them. I was born with them. If I got to pick, I would have avoided the feathers, I think.” She spoke so confidently as if Damsy was already aware of what each of her forms were.

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

“Squaloid, squaloid, squaloid. That’s fun to say!”

Damsy smiled small and despite herself. Yeah, but it ain't fun to be. She refused to say so though, cast shadow over the source of Acantha's joy.

“Does that mean you can change shape? Into whatever you like?”

"Well, that's supposed to be how it works," she replied, doing her best not to sigh. "I'm only half, actually." A mutt, even. Her half sister Darth Miseria was purebred -- come from mother's womb rather than a scientist's test tube. She was still jealous of the labours of love she must have enjoyed in her early life. "I was born with two too, but I count this one." She motioned at herself in humanoid form glory.

Feathers, huh? Damsy's smile gained a blip of sincerity. "Scales ain't much better." That being said, what would she herself chose to morph into if she could too?

Acantha Malvern

 

[Acantha Malvern]

Acantha resonated highly with what Damsy said next and produced a solemn nod in response. “I wasn’t what I was meant to be either.” Even as she said it, the words made little sense, so she shot herself a confused look. “I mean. When my Father made me, I was supposed to be just the beast. Something he could keep in a cage I guess, but he got me instead.”

Scales?

“Scales?” Acantha repeated the beast and the shadow’s thoughts out loud. “Like a fish?” Her head titled curiously, causing a river of black hair to flow over her shoulder. It was strange to think that in the wild she and Damsy would have been, realistically, enemies. Real birds liked to eat fish and bugs and things like that. Fortunately for the two of them, Acantha wasn’t all that keen on fish. At least, not to eat.

Before Damsy could answer, Acantha spoke again. “I wish I could show you my other forms, and I wish I could see yours. I’ve never met someone like me before. But… I’m not sure the beast is overly fond of tight spaces.”

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

“I wasn’t what I was meant to be either. . . . I mean. When my Father made me, I was supposed to be just the beast. Something he could keep in a cage I guess, but he got me instead.”

Fethin' oof.

Damsy's sigh finally came fully realized; breath of air past her lips, shoulders drooped. It was her turn to almost be offended, to feel almost called out, by the similarity of the fate that had befallen Acantha rather than she herself, but the sentiment was quick to flick away. In its wake came her fellow's question. Damsy's face gained a bit more of its baseline countenance -- a practiced pride -- and her shoulders squared. "Not quite. More sharklike," she corrected, "though a shark is a type fish. I do have more proper scales then 'em though." Which wasn't hard. She hadn't seen one shark breed that had even a single scale on their bodies. "Thick skin though too. Some blubber."

She barely realized how much she was enjoying talking about her other form. That hadn't happened for a long time either, but an unexpected opportunity had allowed for it. All too natural to take. A safe and sound she had been searching the galaxy for.

"Yeah, 'can't blame it," she added, commenting on the claustrophobia as she looked around the cave. "My form isn't takin' to play nice with others right now, so she's on time out for the foreseeable future anyhow." She glanced back at the younger woman and smiled sunrays again. "There'll come a time for it though, 'm sure." She pushed off her own knees to stand and then offered a hand down to her newest friend.

Acantha Malvern

 

[Acantha Malvern]

The look that came across Damsy’s face was one that Acantha recognised well. She often saw it plastered all over her father’s chiselled features. Pride. Somehow though it looked incredibly different on Damsy. It radiated from her like some kind of light. It made her seem confident, and that was a very pleasant look on the little fish. Or shark, rather.

“That must be so exciting!” Acantha exclaimed, clapping her hands together a little to demonstrate. “So, I guess that means you can breathe underwater?” She said, as though the realisation had only just crossed her mind, but another question quickly followed. “How fast can you swim? It would be so interesting to have a race one day. Sky versus sea!” Acantha was very much enjoying herself and the new budding friendship. She had not really considered all the things it meant to meet another sithspawn. Even though she and Damsy had their differences, they were of the same kind. Acantha had assumed she was the only one. Her father had certainly never corrected her or said anything to the contrary.

Acantha nodded at Damsy’s next words. She knew first hand what it was like to suffer under an uncooperative form. They could be most difficult to control, especially if they wanted something that contradicted the other forms. The beast inside Acantha rather liked the fact that it controlled her instincts from time to time, and it said as much as Acantha reached up to take the hand that Damsy offered.

As she stood, brushing the dust from the edges of her dress with her fingertips, she asked yet another question. “You can put it on a time-out?”

Damsy Callat ​

 

[Damsy Callat]

“You can put it on a time-out?”

"Kinda sorta," but not well. "There's only one way I can turn, so if I avoid it, she can't come play."

Damsy paused to lick her lips. She had better tell her just what that meant. "By the way, don't get water on me, n' we be gucci forever." She was being slightly facetious, mostly serious though. She had experienced in full tilt the instinctual bond of kinship with Acantha as she had with her. Such strong desire to protect the little bird meant mindfully suppressing Syreni all the more. If they did ever meet each other's alternative, or natural depending on how one looked at the matter, forms, Damsy wanted to put forward her best fin rather than one entirely unpredictable.

Acantha Malvern

 

[Acantha Malvern]

Acantha scrunched her face up and shook her head quickly. “I don’t like water, so no danger of that from me.” She finished the sentence with a light giggle that followed on to what she said next. “Domino took me out on a boat once. It was pretty to look at, but my other forms were nervous the whole entire time.”

Of course, there were other reasons they had the right to be nervous on that particular day, but the water was the main one. The beast thought the water would hurt its feathers, and the shadow thought it would simply be washed away. Acantha had no reason to disagree with them, so she had done her best to avoid it.

Now that they were stood up, Acantha found herself curious to know what was in the rest of the cave. She lent to the side gently, casting her gaze over to where Damsy had originally come from. “I’m assuming there’s more to this cave than just this clearing?” She asked, the same curious lilt littering her tone.

Damsy Callat​

 

[Damsy Callat]

"Uh, yeah." She stepped back enough to motion generally out the way she had come in. "Goes 'least a few miles in all directions." She paused in thought, and remembrance, before looking back at Acantha. "Why'd your dad send you here? Glad he did, but this ain't exactly a zoo."

At least not of the petting variety. And what's more, why would he send his daughter into the bowels of the Vicelord's second known estate? He had to be a Sith Lord as well, considering how Acantha was a spawn, but here, inside Confederate borders? That barely narrowed it down.

Acantha Malvern