Oppressors Should Say Please

[Qamra Kalara]

February, 122PW

"Kala!"

Qamra's voice was a boom, a bark, a command of sound that brooked no disobedience or shirking. Her voice was angry and perhaps a little sneering; a common combination when it came to her dealings with the apothecary woman who'd been picked up some time ago. She added to the thumder of her voice by stomping up the safehouse stairs -- and they were solid wood, they could handle it -- and into the long, tall warehouse that formed their base of operations. She didn't bother to slide the secret panel that hid the stairs shut behind her; it was night and she knew they'd not be disturbed.

She'd come from the subterranean tunnels that let them come and go unseen, and she'd smell as fiercesome as such tunnels might be, especially given that many of those tunnels were connected to the sewers, and the sewers themselves had a way of sharing their odorous perfume with all surrounding locales. She shrugged off a ratty woolen cloak, slinging it to one side as she mounted the last step and became visible to the ground floor of the warehouse.

It was a legetimate front. The Hold and Strings had made nice, going through a series of loops to take control of a supply company for local metalworkers, ordering out for several basic necessities as well as smelted ore, and even raw materials for the master smiths of the city to make their own very specific metals. It had a curious, almost sterile smell to it brought about by years of its use as a storage for mostly metal bits and ends that Qamra didn't know anything about and didn't particularly care about. They had their own areas they kept space in: one, called the Cage, was a small special storage area in the back, kept separate by a crude metal fence, chain, and an insidious, dormant magic ward set to trigger for who-knew-what and keyed to who-knew-who (though Qamra had her suspicions). Three told them regularly enough it would keep them safe, but Qamra didn't have an opinion on it one way or another. The regular workers were told to keep out of it because of the delicacy of what was stored in there, and they did. Qamra made sure they did, because she was one of the "workers" and she kept her eye on everything.

The second place they held their little meetings in was a loft in the rear of the building. Supposedly an office and occasional sleeping place of the draconic warehouse manager, it was another place never disturbed. There were rumors about men gone missing who'd ignored said manager's privacy. Qamra knew them to be true. She'd personally dropped the body of one down into the sewer. Truth was, they all might need that pad for a night of sleep, and Qamra'd used it plenty as her years in Marn had slowly grown. It was private, and she'd make up her mind long ago to make sure it stayed that way.

"Kala, you bitch, get out here!" Qamra strode down the length of the warehouse, glaring 'round the stacked crates as if the girlie might be playing some sort of game with her. She held out a charm between her fingers, the length of ribbon that'd kept it secure in Qamra's clothes pinched tight. She presented it as if it was some sort of holy symbol she planned on using to suss out a witch, and maybe insofar as Qamra's mind turned that was exactly what she thought.

Three twisting plumes of smoke tarried along behind her, tangling in her hair and occasionally riding on her shoulders. They were wild things, fey and awakened by Qamra's careful courtship. They wouldn't listen to a lick of sense Qamra tried on them, nor would they be near willing to listen to what she said. Still, she didn't decry their presence or their curiosity. Some days smoke was the only thing she trusted in the whole fucking city, and some days the rising spirits were the only things she could have a decent conversation with. Everything else in the fucking city was so young.

The young charm-maker being one of them.

[Kala]

Kala had heard her name being called but chose to ignore it for the time being. It seemed like someone was always calling for her but if she was needed so much they would come to her, they always did. Asking their little favors, demanding her to work on something or other that made no sense. Maybe if someone bothered to tell her what exactly she was working towards she could understand her place better. Sure she had been apart of this 'rebellion' for, what was it a year, no longer then that maybe two or three. Either way she had been roped into this crazy group of crazy people with their crazy demands for far too long. And she still didn't know what exactly she was supposed to be doing and when they would let her go, or at least when they would let her get back to work on her sister. Well whoever was calling for her could wait, right now she was busy.

She had found an old book among some of her belongings and was slowing paging through it, the hood of her red cloak pulled up over her head. It had been a while since she had done much reading in other languages so she was a little rusty. The book didn't contain much about death or the afterlife but perhaps there would be something else that would help her or guide her to a different topic.

The voice called for her again and it didn't sound happy. Might as well met her halfway, its the polite thing to do. She may not be able to find me Kala thought to herself as she stood up from a stool hidden in a corner. Shuffling towards the voice Kala continued to page through the book not bothering to look up until something was shoved in her face.

"I'm not a dog." Kala mumbled looking up at the person standing before her. "I am not a dog. A bitch is a female dog and I am not one. I don't think I can turn into one either...although maybe a dog would be nice to have around, wouldn't it? Probably not, it wouldn't smell very nice"

A rude noise from the person in front of her drew her away from her conversation with herself. "You don't smell very nice either, and you are smoking, are you feeling okay? What's this?" Kala stared at what was shoved in her face again, a twisted bit of metal hanging off a ribbon. Holding the open book with one hand she reached out to touch it. "Why did you get me a necklace. This one isn't very pretty. And I don't wear them anyways. If that is all I'm going to do some research." She started to turn away but paused. The lady hadn't been be very polite but that didn't mean that she had to be rude as well. "Thank-you for your offer, but perhaps one of the other girls would appreciate it more."

[Qamra Kalara]

Nuh uh. It took Qamra no time at all to reach out and grab Kala by the upper arm, pulling her around and close even as Qamra bent down. Kala was a full foot shorter than Qamra. Qamra knew that with children often you had to get down onto their level in order for them to understand when you were being serious. Chronologically, Qamra understood Kala was an adult. That didn't matter a whit.

"Little girl," Qamra enunciated the two words, her face inches from Kala's. "I don't give a piece of goat shit if you're cockered as a hungover fool. This," she held up the charm, "is what you gave me. You told me it would make me inconspicuous."

Her voice echoed in the tinny hollowness of the warehouse, sounding phony as her voice slid into the condescending voice adults tended to use on small children. "Inconspicuous means others don't notice me as much. You failed. Fix. It."

Qamra shoved the charm against Kala's chest and let it go. She straightened, using the advantage of her height and her mouth full of tusks and teeth to glower down at the shorter woman. "Now, do you understand or shall I repeat myself with pain this time?"

[Kala]

Kala sighed and bit her tongue as Qamra jerked her around, glaring at her in regards to the height comment. There was no need to stoop to that level and did she really have to be so pushy? Choosing to inspect the charm instead of pursue that topic she started muttering again.

"I don't know why you have goat poop, no wonder you are smelling a little off. Of course this charm didn't help, the base is all off." Her interest piqued a bit she started to wander off again, this time towards her work table. "You really should have come to us sooner you know..." Kala's voice tapered of into quiet whispers as she grabbed a couple tools and started to mold the metal into a different shape.

A minute later Kala looked up at Qamra who had followed her and seemed to be inspecting the area. "Pain wouldn't help." Her fingers danced around the charm before she looked down at it again and went back to work, repeating herself as she continued. "Pain wouldn't help, because it doesn't speak. Unless you know a person named Pain. Does he help you explain things?" Kala looked up with a questioning look on her face.

Cocking her head she held up the charm to the dim light and gave it an quick once over before holding it out to Qamra, resisting the temptation to add a bit of something to make her blind, like a bat. Her voice certainly bounced of enough things that she wouldn't have much trouble find her way around.

"If this suits you, I also have another list of things I need." Kala began searching around for her list, they really needed to give her more space to work, but of course they wouldn't. Apparently one little desk was supposed to be enough to house all the papers and ingredients that she needed to do their little projects. Eventually find it Kala snuck a peak at Qamra before adding an ingredient to the list. She was slowly starting to horde things that she needed to begin work on her pet project, it had been too long since she had gotten a chance to do work that she wanted to do.

[Qamra Kalara]

What a cheeky little churl this girl was! Qamra felt a grin stretch her lips, pulling them until they pressed taut against the press of her crooked, outward facing teeth. She knew what most Marnians thought of her face. Her nose and her mouth were decidedly inhuman, and the spots of color that pigmented her skin along her cheekbones were wholly unnatural in any real human.

She stalked after Kala, looking around the warehouse for any potential interruptions or witnesses. She found none, and as her glee rose so too did the frenetic action of the smoke plumes. They twisted and wound about her, cats without gravity: sinuous weasels delighting in new fun, new toys, new prey. Two of them floated away from her to circle Kala as she neared the little chattermouth bitch. Such a little creature. Disheveled, obsessed -- a child by any real standards, without even the basest amount of self preservation. Slight. Pretty, maybe, by the standards of most humans.

Qamra could not see her as anything more than a conveniently placed toy.

She came up behind her entertainment, the petite snack, and crowded. Personal space was disgarded. It had no use between either of them, not when Qamra was reliving her days on the road when ruffians tried to challenge her. She remembered the day she'd met the little brat Soneya. Oh, but she could remember so very much, and when Kala peeked back at her she leaned forward, and down; if Kala did not lean back then Qamra's upper body would collide as she reached down to put a hand on the table on either side of Kala's body.

"It doesn't suit me, child. Have you never had a proper conversation with pain?"

Kala's back was to her, but that didn't matter. She would feel Qamra's hot breath at her ear, hear the small creaks and clicks her teeth made; the wetness from a mouth in which saliva inevitably pooled. "I would dearly love to show you."

It had been too long since Qamra had last disciplined a sloppy trainee.

[Kala]

Kala wasn't prepared for what happened next. She liked having her own space, she liked being alone. And for the past couple years she didn't have much of either. No time for working on her project, no time to go out and look for souls, get books, study or go anywhere or do anything she wanted or needed to do. On top of that she was pushed, and prodded and rudely treated by practically everyone. Not to mention she hadn't been allowed to see Dominque since she had been taken from her how ever long ago they had taken her hostage. They were both taken hostage.

Well enough was enough! Kala slammed her hands down on the table causing a couple jars to shake, one which fell from it's precarious position on the table, shattering on the ground. She ignored it and turned around, attempting to shove Qamra away from her, pushing her in the stomach with both hands.

"ENOUGH!" she yelled...her voice surprising even herself. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Qamera. "What am I getting myself into?" she wondered quietly as she searched her mind for something, anything that could help her in such a situation. But everything she could think of would take too long to whip up.

Something about Qamra make Kala feel that there was no way that she was going to be able to brush this off with a simple apology. Taking a big breath she attempted to continue. "I work here every damn day, making your stupid little charms. Without so much as a thank-you! How do I know my sister is still okay?! Why should I continue being your little....pet." She spat the word out, her anger rising. This wasn't her...but then staying in one town wasn't her, neither was working at something that was completely irrelevant to her own cause.

"And if you do decide to introduce me to this pain", Kala continued finally realizing what Qamra had been talking about. "I can guarantee that my work will only get worse. Charming isn't a simple task you know." There. She had been assertive, and was shaking beneath her cloak. Was it from fear or anger she couldn't rightly tell although she hoped that the lady in front of her wouldn't see it as fear, Kala didn't know how long she could keep this up. It was so draining....

[Qamra Kalara]

Qamra's lips pulled further back in a grin that bared most of her teeth. She didn't flinch at Kala's sudden yell though she did straighten; Qamra had cut her teeth at the side of men and women whose sole purpose had been to scare the shit out of her. She had faced her death on a regular basis, had seen her life to ruin on more than one occasion. She had enemies who would kill her without taking even a breath to consider, and she had three balls of smoke watching and waiting to be entertained.

What was one puny human without even the most basic muscle tone? Nothing. Especially one who barely knew how to interact with the world. She knew neither spirits nor flesh, always obsessing over her sister and her interrupted work. Rather than fight for her position, she whined and dragged her heels, waiting with disgusting passivity for things to change. Now she was at Qamra's mercy, caught like a trembling rabbit waiting to be killed. It was a fascinating moment, one that caught and held Qamra's awareness.

Kala must have been half Qamra's weight. Her push was like the weight of a gnat. Who was this little chickpea to attempt to move a woman who had stood her ground against countless warriors? Qamra laughed. She opened her mouth and roared it at Kala, the gathered pools of saliva in her mouth slipping free to spatter Kala.

"Did you say something, pet?" Qamra batted the girl's hands away, and reached for her hair. Once she'd caught up a chunk of it, she pulled back and down. She bent, turning her head so her ear was a bit closer to Kala's mouth. "Say it again."

[Kala]

"I knew I should have kept my mouth shut." Kala thought as Qamra smiled (if you could call that contortion a smile) at her. When she laughed, instead of causing Kala to slip back in to safe confines of her work and mind like she usually did, Kala found that it rather angered her. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as spittle hit her in the face, first the invaded personal space and now this?

And of course that wasn't the end of it. It only took a second before Qamra had closed the little distance that was between them, grabbing Kala's hair and used it to twist her to her will. "Say it again." Qamra had said placing her ear practically against Kala's face as if she had misheard her!

"The crazy old bat had heard! She is daring me to say it again. I bet she things that her little tactics will work on me like they have before with every other person she most likely enjoys harassing and torturing. Well I am not going to whimper my apologies and I won't let her make me. We've dealt with pain before. Physical pain can always end, either it heals or you never feel again, we know that for a fact. It's the emotional pain that stings forever."

With that in mind Kala forced scared look on her face, which in some ways was more real then she would have liked. After all who knew what her next actions would bring about. Did Qamra have the power to kill her? Probably not....but that didn't mean it would stop her. "I'm..I'm sorry ma'am." Kala whimpered before her voice took on a sickeningly sweet tone while she slowly put her right hand behind herself, searching the table for something, anything to help out in this situation. "I didn't realize that you were getting so old that your hearing was going. I said LEAVE.ME.ALONE." And with that she opened her mouth and bit down as hard as she could on Qamra's ear at the same time her hand located a jar that was thankfully open from prior use. Grabbing it she swung it around, the contents splashing in Qamra's face all the while pleading to her father that this crazy lady would let go, even if just for a second.

[Qamra Kalara]

Pain was a familiar companion. Qamra had been bitten before, back when her name had been Kalara to everyone but her friends. She'd been near gutted before. She'd faced years in the arena with all the blood and gore and death it implied. She laughed through the pain, laughed at the little bit of spunk the girl showed. She was laughing when the vinegar splashed into her face. It went into her mouth, her nose, some even into her eyes.

Her body shut down a moment, adrenaline kicking her into high gear. Her grip on the hair tightened -- this girl hadn't the muscle nor the focus to severely damage her -- she spat to clear her mouth (directly into Kala's face if she didn't have the foresight to block the liquid), and her free hand went up to her eyes. She was still laughing as she spun them. The memory of the battleground, this warehouse, was burned behind her eyes even as the pain sought to chivvy her out and away from it. That was what she'd learned, being a master of the spirits in the smoke. So often had she used the blinding tactic on her enemies that her trainers had insisted she do much the same to herself. Against a stronger opponent she would have sought to give herself room before they could exploit the weakness, but Kala did not even register as an opponent. She was a slip of a girl, a child, a flimsy thing that had dared to offer challenge. Qamra was just in the mood to accept it.

One eye was mostly cleared and able to be opened, though it was weeping as her body sought to clear it on its own terms. The other was screwed shut, stinging to all the wretched planes in existence. The excess fluid from her eyes drained into her sinuses, and that took seconds to start seeping out through her nose and back down her throat. Qamra coughed, worked her mouth, and spat again in Kala's direction.

She was still grinning.

Qamra took a step forward, and then another. Whether Kala stood her ground or was driven back wasn't the point. No, intimidation was part and parcel of Qamra's life, and such moves were nigh on instinctive. "Hullo, girlie," she growled, voice rasping and made deep with what vinegar she'd swallowed, "I see you've woken up. Now then, would you like me to return your salvo with some tricks I've learned?" She bared her teeth. Her incisors were not flat like a human's. She could feel the warm rush and sting of damaged nerves and capillaries. She was fairly sure she'd be bleeding in a few minutes, though adrenaline had dulled much of the sensation. "Where should I bite?" She clicked her teeth together. Her grin was terrible.

[Kala]

Kala was really hoping that her actions would have, at the very least, caused Qamra to have loosened her grip and allowing her to escape. But instead the woman only seemed to hold on tighter. What has this woman been through to have turned into such a....rock? She is hard like one. I've had felt rocks hit me before. Not every town likes to have a us practicing our magics in their midst and not all were kind about how they sent us off. But something tells me that this woman most likely could hurt much, much worse then a rock ever would.

Kala was thinking so much that the first glob of spit that landed on the shoulder of her cloak barely register to her. But when the second one hit her square on the cheek, what she assumed was no accident, she felt her cheeks burn. Not so much from the sensation that the traces of vinegar left but out of sheer anger. Anger that she generally only felt when someone would dare to desecrate the memories or body of her sister in any way. Kala was shaking.

She cowered at the approach of Qamra. Now is not the time for a full on war. If the past few minutes proved anything, Qamra is not someone to be messed with easily. It would take time, careful planning, perhaps poison...yes poison laced on a charm might be nice... Kala shook her head again. Now was not the time to plot. Now was the time to act and hopefully get out of this with as few bruises and cuts as possible.

"I'm...I'm sorry." Kala forced herself to whimper as she cowered in front of Qamra, the jar in her hand dropping to the floor and shattering around her. She eyed the glass before putting that thought out of her mind. There was no way she was going to be able to hurt the crazy lady without getting equally, if not more, hurt. She placed both her hands folded in front of her and looked down, what she hoped was an acceptable act of submission.

"Iiiii...I don't know...I don't know what came over me." She stuttered before rushing into one of her long and fast speeches. "I was just so hurt and scared. I work so hard you see? And no one ever thanks me for my work. And I miss my sister. We've never been apart before now and it's been so long since I've seen her or worked on my project and I am hungry and when I get hungry I can get a bit snippish. Although I guess I shouldn't be making any excuses. I wasn't very nice and my mother, may she rest in peace, always taught me to be nice even when people aren't nice to me. Not that I am saying that you aren't nice. I guess you were just upset that I messed up again. Maybe you were hungry to. You know what would taste good right now? A cookie."

Kala took a a couple deep breaths as she toyed with the gold detailed vial around her neck. She allowed a blank look washed over her as she stared into Qamra's face, trying not to flinch at the emotions that she read in the woman's eyes and smile. Letting her mind wander was an easy task. An image of her sister, alive and smiling at her filled the forefront of her mind, causing a soft smile to dance across her face for a fraction of a second.

[Qamra Kalara]

Qamra's grin drooped, catching around her left tusk while the right side of her mouth lost its hold on the smile. She registered the broken jar with a quick glance of her good eye, and narrowed her eyes at Kala. She couldn't fight that, not with it sniveling at her like it was fresh squeezed out of its mother's cunt. There was no honor in that. There was no challenge, nothing in which to find entertainment. So much for the toy; Kala had returned to being a faulty alchemist who could barely be counted upon to do even the basest of tasks. They had pegged their hopes on this?

"Pathetic," Qamra said, releasing her grip on Kala's hair and turning away. The smoke was watching Kala and the table, its interest peaked for now but slowly fading as its source neared completion. Qamra kept part of her attention on it, not fancying a shiv to the back. "What use have you? Pribbling scum scraped off the hoof, full lack of wits to recommend you."

Qamra started towards the table, looking over its contents with a discerning eye. She took her whip away from its resting place on her hip, uncurling its length with a practiced flick of her wrist. She had a spot she used for accuracy practice -- though in all honesty it was just a means of releasing steam -- in sight of Kala's workspace. Qamra had quite a pot of steam needing release, and right then she didn't give a whit of what the chit thought. She turned as she passed the middle of the table, and reared back on one leg, lashing out with the other against the edge of the table.

The table was no fragile construction, not by any means. Qamra's foot caught it, and lifted one edge so it creaked upwards. Its weight saved it the initial spill even as the surface contents started moving towards the floor. It had begun to rock back down when Qamra's foot caught it a second time. Then it fell over, the surface contents of the table crashing down in a cacophony of glass, fluid, clay and wood. Glorious music, to Qamra's ears. She didn't turn to see Kala's reaction, watching her through the smoke, and she didn't wait to see the fallout of the mess. She kept walking towards her space, offering only a contemptuous, "Get back to work."

[Kala]

Kala watched as an emotion, perhaps disppointment, registered on Qamra's face. It was slightly more then obviously that the woman had been enjoying the little game that they were playing. Although Kala didn't doubt that Qamra would have been willing for the 'game' to continue until one of them was dead. And while that certainly would be an easy way for her to see her sister again she was trying to bring Dom to her, not the other way around.

Slowly Kala brought her gaze to the ceiling and started to softly back and forth while she hummed one of her haunting little tunes. She didn't know if Qamra had bought her little act or was just waiting for her to slip up. Either way Kala's eyes followed the beams that ran along the warehouse roof. Humming helped her to keep her focus. Kala was aware of her tendancy to since into the world in her mind and for the most part she didn't really mind it. But right now she had to remain alert, focused.

She flinched as she heard the sound of Qamra's whip and the sounds of her work space being violated. Kala forced herself to to continuing eying the beams, trying to find away to cross each one only once. A loud crash alerted her to the fact that the table had someone been flipped.

With the remark to get back to work and the retreating footsteps Kala finally felt safe to survey the area. It really was a mess. Sinking to her knees she crawled over and started pulling paper out of the liquids that were slowly spreading across the floor. This mess would take a while to clean up. She would have to find someone to help flip the table back up as well as someone who could take her shopping for everything she would need, both to keep up with her regular work and the special new projects she had in mind.

This game was not over, it had only just begun. If she worked this right, perhaps if she played her cards right she could finally get some respect around here....

[Miklos]

Stepping out to call down one of his crows, Miklos tightened his ragged coat around himself and ignored his shivers. He glanced to the roof of the warehouse, returning the intelligent eyes of a crow. "Ognen," he said, not in an overly loud tone. The crow flew immediately onto his outstretched arm and looked at him. "Go home an' fetch Behar here." The crow voiced a harsh caw and flew off in an unerringly straight line towards one of the seedier districts.

The falcon would be better suited to handle the cold of the day, Miklos knew, and it was unlikely that any messages would come that he would need to send out. Cold days made people much less eager to stir up rebellion. It wasn't long before the falcon swooped down from out of the sky, landing silently on Mik's shoulder. Letting out a small scrap of a smile at the imposing bird, Miklos returned inside the building.

A crash sounded from the direction of Kala's workshop and Miklos swore under his breath. Couldn't the girl keep out of trouble for a few moments? They hadn't had much to do with each other, even though he technically was her warden for part of the day, but she was quiet and he was him, so exchanging words about their personal lives seemed excessive.

With Behar on his shoulder, Miklos let himself back into the workshop. His eyes took in the scene - his charge laying on the floor, getting up to clean things - the girl's worktable turned over and spilling its contents onto the floor - another woman, the tusky one whose name Miklos might remember if pressed, moving away from the scene with a self-satisfied look on her face. He stood in the doorway, blocking if it she was going to try and escape, but didn't move into the room. He wasn't sure what had happened, and he sure didn't want to get in the middle of it, but he also knew he'd get yelled at if something happened to Kala on his watch.

[Qamra Kalara]

Eyes glued to Miklos', Qamra sent her whip snaking out before she cracked it. It echoed through the expansive warehouse, and she smirked at him. The Birdman had returned from his shit, or whatever else it was that he did. Nothing to do with her. His entrance had been noted as soon as the door had opened, and though he was a fair distance from her, she had still turned to look at him. Ahhh, and he stood against the door as if to protect it from her! How cute of him, even if it confirmed her opinion that he was so stupid he must be in need of a helper. It was perfect he'd been paired up with Kala. The two needed each other.

"You should take her shopping, nene," she told him most seriously, though she didn't bother to hide her amusement. "Three hasn't arrived, and I need to practice."

Two more steps and she had made it to her target area. She pulled out the beaten tin cans from their crate. They were packed somewhere in Eyropa, used to transport some toxic or other substance needed for certain forms of metalcraft Qamra didn't know or care to know about. They were the perfect size for her, and that was all that mattered. She made sure that their disposal was slow enough that there were always several on hand for her. That was all that mattered: she got what she needed. She set them out in a semi-circle, and rotated her neck. She stretched, and then the whip cracked in reaction to her arm's command.

One of the cans skittered over the floor like a frightened mouse. Qamra smiled.

[Kala]

Kala had pulled up the hood of her favorite, and charmed, cloak which caused her face to slip into the shadows as she worked on the ground. The action perhaps was simply to shield her face from Qamra so that the woman would not how deep in thought she truly was as she attempted to figure out what she could get away with without having to worry about being maimed. Or perhaps it was simply a default action in attempt to protect her from all that was out there, the issues that were popping up more each day and problems that couldn't be solved simply by thinking them away.

Kala was too busy to notice the presence of a new person in the room and she choose to ignore the cracks of Qamra's whip (which was most likely her attempt to try and intimidate her further) and since back into the safe confines of her own mind. Kala kept most of her thoughts inside her head and to herself as she worked cleaning up the mess that was made but her lips moved along and occasionally a single word or phrase would slip out in an angry but whispered voice. That...that bitch was going to hurt me. I know Dom, it's not nice to call people names, but that sorry excuse for a woman was going to hurt us and she was going to like it too.

Kala ground her teeth. It was a recent habit brought on by her increased frustrations with the world around her, or lack of it. She is going to get it and I am going to give it to her. I don't know what I will do but it won't be nice. I'm tired of being nice, I am always nice and what has that gotten us? Many years of boring work, no manners, no gifts, no 'thank-you Kala, want to see your sister Kala?' No. No more, no more niceness to mean people. Just pain or failure. Yes...that's it.

Kala rocked back on her heels and surveyed her work. The papers were all neatly stacked or set aside to be hung to dry and most of the broken bits of pottery and glass picked up and placed in an empty box that she tried to keep handy. She didn't notice the small scratches that had been inflicted on her hands as she knelt down to clean.

Standing up she quietly walked around the table as she tried to figure out how to get it standing upright again. She risked a glance at Qamra and shot her back a glare before approached the table. She would show her, she could do more then that lady thought was possible, starting with up-righting this table.