maslittlerabbit

[maslittlerabbit]

In The Jurda Fields

Sankta Neyar's tea helps Jesper begin a conversation that's decades overdue.

The Jurda fields always smelt lovely before they were burnt.

Jesper opened his eyes and stared up at an overcast sky, the sun straining to reach through the clouds, there would be storm later.

“It’s good for the plants, you father will be pleased.”  

Jesper turned and the breath was stolen from his chest- Aditi Fahey.

“Mama.” He breathed, staring at her, arms hanging uselessly by his sides. She didn���t seem as he remembered her and, for a moment, he couldn’t think why but then, it came to him. They were the same height. All the time he’d known her she’d been a giantess, fierce and strong. Now she seemed smaller, slimmer.

“Oh, my Little Rabbit.” Aditi closed the distance between them and threw her arms around him, her grip almost crushing. The force jolted him from his shock, and he held here in kind, the pair rocking slightly from the power of the embrace.

“Mama.” He repeated, inhaling deeply and smelling that wonderful aroma of Jurda plants and metal working.

“Little Rabbit,” she pulled back, wiping his cheek with a thumb and brushing away a tear before it could fall, “Though, not so little anymore.”

Jesper let out a watery chuckle, “Didn’t get dad’s height.”

“Praise the Saints for that.” Aditi said wryly, smiling and taking him in, “Tell me, what else did you not get from your father?”

The woman stepped away, her bright yellow, purple and green clothing a beacon of joy against the limp sky. She pulled a pair of revolvers from her fabrics, spun them and shot into the distance, knocking off apples that happened to be sitting on the far-away fence.

“When did they- a-and you?” Jesper tried to think, to question but Aditi only laughed and held out the guns to him.

“Your turn, show your mother.”

“But they haven’t been reloaded?”

“Just shoot,” she said, stepping back to watch.

Jesper twirled the guns, the motion the most natural thing in the world and fired twelve bullets, knocking off twelve apples. Aditi cheered and clapped her hands.

“Stopped pulling to the left then?”

“Only took another few months.” He smirked, twirling the guns and holstering them.

“So quick. You always caught onto everything so quickly.” The woman’s smile dimmed, “Then you stopped.”

“You were gone.”

Jesper swallowed.

“And you still are.”

Aditi’s face slipped into sadness, she suddenly looked older.

“I am.”

“And this… isn’t real?”

“No.”

“A-am-” Jesper looked away, his shoulders tensing up, “Am I dying?”

“I hope not, my love.” She stepped forward and opened her arms again, Jesper didn’t hesitate to fall into the embrace, sniffing quietly, “There now,” Aditi cooed, “You have so much to say to me, Little Rabbit, and you know you can say it. I will not be angry with you. I will understand.”

“I just-” Jesper’s breath caught in his throat and he clung more fiercely, “I can’t change, it won’t make anything better. A-and I promised-”

“You father let fear rule his heart and love,” Aditi told him, her voice whispered into his ear just as she’d tell him stories as a child. “You risk your life every day for your friends, good friends who love you. Be all you are to protect them.”

In their embrace he was small again, looking up into her smiling face, he remembered.

“I cannot be anything but what I am.”          

“Yes, Little Rabbit, my Jesper.”

In the distance, thunder began to rumble. Aditi looked out towards the skies and Jesper felt her sigh.

“Find me, Jesper. Take back your blessing and tell me what you need to say.”

“M-Mama I, I lo-”

“Shh,” Aditi put a finger to his lips and the pair of them fell to their knees as the rain began to pour, “Tell me when it matters, Little Rabbit. Tell me when it matters.”

As the rain splashed around them, the field seemed too wash away like an oil painting, washing him and Aditi away in it.

“It always matters Mama…”

Jesper opened his eyes.

[maslittlerabbit]

Alone

Jesper's lessons with Baghra come a head and he discovers an uncomfortable truth.

“Again.”

Jesper let out a breath as the can bashed against his shin; even Kaz didn’t his as much as this old bat, but he bent over the metal ball and again tried to bend one of the spikes. It moved, slowly, the molecules fighting him, his influence, his desire, the final shape he saw-

Thack

            “Again, useless boy.” Baghra snapped, watching him with eagle eyes across from her fireplace. The room was dark, all metal, stone, and flames and Jesper felt a bead of sweat drip down the back of his neck.

            “Weeks you’ve been here, a second-generation Grisha, and you cannot bend spikes? Children to that between lessons!” she whacked him again and he grit his teeth.

            “Stop it.”

            “Or what? You’ll curl into a ball and sob again? Not fit to be a man you’re a child who refuses to let go of childish things.”

Jesper slammed the metal ball onto the table and surged to his feet.

            “Back off you old bat! Maybe you just can’t teach!”    

He’d expected another attack via the stick but instead Baghra lent back and watched him smugly.

            “Can’t I? Or maybe you are a child-“

            “Stop calling me that!”

            “Then cease to be one! Do you think you friends will burst through the door and whisk you away from greatness? That your dear Pa will sail across the True Sea to pluck you free?”

Jesper frozen, eyes wide as he watched shadows dance behind the old woman in the flames.

            “Oh yes,” she croaked, “Pa.” The word was spat into the fire and she laughed, “You cannot go a few days without regressing to a boy who misses his daddy and cries into that Heartrender. She cannot save you from this, you have no one left boy so why do you hold back?”

Jesper was almost shaking, worst of all was the truth in her words; there was no one. Kaz maintained radio silence, Inej had her own goals, Nina, Wylan- they didn’t understand and Pa-

            “I am not holding back.” He growled.

            “You hide away as you’ve hidden all your life,” Baghra lent forward, the ghoulish light of the flames highlighting the gaunt crevices of her cheeks, “From monsters, from power and from yourself. All from a desperate need to be protected. For your Da to sweet you away, or those friends you’ve hung around like a fly since you arrived.”

Her laugh was haughty, Jesper’s hand was curled around the spiked balls so hard be pricked beads of sweat against each point.

            “So where are they?” she spread her thin arms, looking like a bat in the shadows. “Not here. No one to keep you a babe or hold you back, save you. So why?” she demanded, “Why?”

            “I’m trying to be good for them-”

            “Approval?” The old witch cackled, the half-demented sound echoing around the cave, a yell from Jesper joining it as she hit out sharply, the point of her cane striking his shoulder-

Like Kaz.

            “All your life you seek their life and do you have it? No. Else you wouldn’t be here, alone. Love and approval have done nothing save nearly kill you boy, and I won’t be the one to pull you back from your Nothing this time.”

Jesper stared at her, mouth dropping open in shock.

            “Oh yes, I know.” Her breath came out as a sharp laugh, “You deny yourself for them, you grovel and scrape for the tiniest scraps of approval, render yourself a husk so they might be full and is it enough? No. Cease being a child. Grow up.”

He-

He had.

Pa, all he’d wanted was his happiness and every misguided attempt had brought him, brought them both misery. He’d turned from Jesper the moment he’d dyed the jurda field, looked at him with fear, treated him a little less like a son everyday and then instead of fighting for him to stay he’d put him on a damn boat across the fold.

Levi, he’d poured his heart and soul into the man, followed him like a lovesick pup and whispered every secret, every desire and every beat of his being, ready to run, to mould himself and be whatever the other wanted, and he’d been met with pain, fear and humiliation, left alone and lost his home- the home where he was no true son, not anymore.    

 Kaz, so cruel, not a bead of care for Jesper within him unless his job was complete. He could do not job here, yet he tried, he’d ruined himself in the pursuit of being useful. To earn one of those sharp smiles, a half-ass’d compliment. Some foolish, unkillable desire for lust or love, to be a sapphire like Inej, to earn a sliver of family, to be protected yet he’d done nothing but fall into debt among debt and been left to destroy himself again, inside and out for someone that didn’t care.

Inej, who called him brother, who he’d brought back from the edge and she’d done the same for him. They had love, they had each other, she-

            She hadn’t been there either.

She’d been with Kaz, chosen him, his cause and his mission. She loved him. Maybe she loved Jesper too, but he wasn’t her first, he’d never be. Nina too, but Matthias, a Grisha-Hunter had won her over and she’d never been to begin with, never. Wylan- He didn’t know, a princely smile and a beat of a heart wasn’t enough, he didn’t know Jesper, he didn’t know how he’d suffered.

All of them; he’d thrown himself into all of them and there was nothing to show for it, he was empty-

            No.

There was something, a tightness in him but not same that came with panic, not it was uncomfortable, as though he were curled in on himself, muscles stretched and bent the wrong way and he only now felt it, stepping outside himself he felt- he felt, and it was rage. He was angry, furious at them, at himself, at this old woman with a stick who stared at him across the fire. He ripped and the tightness, tore at it until it ripped like an ill-fitting suit and something poured out, anger, pain and a flowing awareness of the world around him, each molecule in the stone, a steel pot above a marble counter, the metal head of Baghra’s cane, the licking flames of the fire, he wanted to move them all, shred them, pull the world to pieces for treating him so cruelly-

“You’re alone boy.”

Jesper rounded on Baghra-

            “Burn in hell bitch!”

He slammed his hands on the table and stell structure fell like water under his palms, crumbling to a small ball that shot forward like a bullet, slamming into the cave wall a few centimetres left of Baghra’s head, the force of a gunshot left the football sized crumpled metal embedded deep in the stone.

Jesper panted, he felt everything another layer of awareness to the world that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t alone.

He has this.

Baghra hadn’t even flinched.

            “Good.” She rumbled, her smirk still in place, “Now we really start.”                           

[maslittlerabbit]

Jesper Fahey - Masquerade Outfit

[maslittlerabbit]

Caught

Summary: Jesper sneaks into the Fabrikator's labs, his friends' finally getting to him; although, the act only leads him into deeper trouble.

Identify yourself!

“Fuck.” Jesper hissed, dropping the lump of metal he’d been trying to do… something with and bolting towards the door at the other end of the Fabrikator labs.

For months he’d been feeling worse and worse. He was tired, irritable, couldn’t sleep, unable to keep still and the Nothing was clawing its way back up and up inside him. In the end his fear of that combined with Nina, Anika and Inej’s suggestions had seen him breaking into the labs to try and employ his powers on his own terms. He’d not been there an hour, trying to move the molecules of a lump of steel to make it look like a knife when a patrol had caught sight of him.

He'd been too focused on the task, lost himself in the feel of the steel between his fingers, the push and pull of the makings at their heart. And now he was being chased by two security guards and air felt like fire in his lungs.

He was too tired; he couldn’t outrun them.

Desperately, he made a mad turn down the hall and ploughed right into a third guard; one he hadn’t even known was there. The large man had him on his back in moments, cuffed his wrists and bent to whisper into this ear,

‘The Czar will want a word with a potential spy.’

His words sent a chill down Jesper’s spine and all the way there he protested, trying to claim he was just lost and looking around, that he was a student and they could check his ID.

In the end a young female guard socked him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and shutting him up. He was half dragged into a dark room and slammed into a chair before fully regaining his senses, the cuffs on his back only undone for a moment before they fastened him to the chair.

“A Zemeni spy, caught it the Fabrikator’s labs, Your Highness.”

Jesper, finally able to get a deep inhale, looked up and if his blood had been cold before it felt like ice as dark eyes took him in…

The Darkling.

[maslittlerabbit]

Inej: All I’m saying is that you often use humor to deflect from trauma.

Jesper: Thank you.

Inej: No, that’s not a good thing.

Jesper: So what you’re saying is you think I’m funny.

[maslittlerabbit]

Crow Club 2 - Cage Fight

Jesper's poor decisions put him in the ring with Matthias.

The fight was the only safe time to return. Kaz wouldn’t kill him before the fight, not while there was money to be made in bets. He couldn’t have returned to his room, couldn’t risk any of them being there, of seeing him.

He didn’t want to face what he’d done.

It was unforgivable but, right now, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. All that mattered was the nothing, that was how he’d come to think of it. It was the itch first, for a long time, the itch to spend a night at Mocker’s Wheel, to feel the smooth handles of his revolvers, to pull the trigger, fly a fist, exhale and bring on the chaos. It’d been an itch since he’d always scratched it.

Here though, those options were all denied, no gambling, few if any causes to shoot and only fights if he paid to be in them. So, the itch had gone unscratched, and grown, then changed. He felt it all over now, just pulling him to something, making his insides swirl like water flowing down a drain. He should be bothered by it, he needed to be but- there was nothing, nothing but that drain he desperately wanted out of. He’d been hiding in the woods for days with Milo, the damn goat had kept him sane, sitting in his lap while he alternated between raging, crying or concocting half-baked plans to fix his more or make it worse. His knuckles were already bloody from punching a tree trunk a few times; the pain helped, the pain was something, not nothing so he came to rely on it, only a little, to make those nights in the woods bearable.

But now the isolation was over, now he could do something. He kept head down and ducked into the Crow Club with a few other patrons, his flashy clothes (usually kept as pristine as his revolvers) were smudge with dirt and wrinkled but he didn’t look any better. A wobbly reflection from a forest creek had shown his cheeks were gaunt, bags were under his eyes, eyes that didn’t sparkle like they should… He hadn’t looked for long.

He hid in the backroom until the very last moment before pulling off his coat, waistcoat and shirt and wrapping his knuckles. His body was lean, the last few days of foraged meals had stripped even more fat from him to the point where some may think him malnourished. But there was muscle there, sinew and core strength built from years of adolescent farm work; Jesper didn’t expect to win, he’d seen Matthias fight before, but he’d put on a show and be one hell of a runner-up. He owed Kaz that much, he owned Inej more than he could ever give…

His empty expression morphed to one of jubilation and confidence as he strode into the club, the pigeons already cooing and ruffling their feathers as he made his way into the cage, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’d danced around the cage a few times before Matthias entered, as stoic as always, a little taller and a great deal broader.

He smirked, “Told ya you’d give me something Druskelle.”

His voice was a little hoarse from lack of use, but it carried over the sounds around them. He already felt it, that something to chase away the nothing, adrenaline already pumping at the sight of this hulking man, every instinct screaming danger, run!    

But he just continued to dance from side to side, as jittery as the other was still.

Matthias made an offer, a chance to quit or take an easy fall, Jesper didn’t listen, he didn’t care. 

He didn’t want this.

His hand shot out as Matthias spoke and socked him in the cheek, it spoke to his hidden strength that the man stumbled back a step or two, but when the locked eyes again his fate was sealed. Jesper managed to dodge and deflect the next few blows but soon he was nailed in the cheek, the same one he’d struck on Matthias, only he didn’t stumble a step, he flew backwards and slammed against the cage, the patrons yelled and waved their arms, betting more or cheering him on, he couldn’t tell.

He tilted his head slowly, the pain hot, his vision a little burry, he spat out a glob of blood.

“Thank you, Sir, may I have another?” he laughed.

Oh, it felt good to laugh, synapses were firing, his body alive ready to act, the drain was clogged, and he shot forward, getting a body shot in as Matthias no doubt tried again to ruin their fun. Pretty soon a fist flew past his guard and right into his gut.

He grunted, unable to make a louder sound, and fell to his knees, curling around himself like a wounded animal.

Yes, yes.

His fist shot forward, a dirty blow at Matthias’ knee that knocked the man off balance for the few he needed to get to his feet. Before he could make another move that first was coming back and his block took the brunt as he stumbled back, hitting the cage wall again. His head lolled to the side-

Inej was staring at him through the crowd, her eyes sadder than he’d ever seen.

Cold, empty, Nothing.

He blinked, screamed and ran back towards Matthias, throwing his body against him till the pair hit the cage.

“You hit like a kept man Druskelle, how long before Nina has enough of you?” he smirked, the words darkening the other man’s gaze.

“I gave her a good feel up when we danced on the beach, gotta tell you that ass-”

He didn’t get to finish as Matthias’ fist connected with his jaw and sent him spinning. Another few shots hit his back and fell forwards, forehead right into the cage wall.

Pain, blood, steel, something.

Matthias dragged him back, wrenching his arm so far it made a sickening snap that turned everything into a searing white agony. He didn’t register the next few body shots until a pain exploded in his ribs to match that of his limp arm and a knee to his gut drew what little air he had from his lungs. He hit the floor, looking up at Matthias through one eye, the other already swelling shut, a rivet of blood dribbled down his chin, his broken arm hung at an unnatural angle. The crowd were yelling, everything hurt, he couldn’t think, he didn’t need to, he was a tiny speck in a sea of fireworks.

He laughed.

Matthias didn’t move.

He laughed, laughed, and laughed some more, barely able to draw in the breath needed to fuel the increasingly unhinged sounds. The jeering crowd lost a little volume, looks of excitement turned to confusion, maybe (in a few) even fear.

He pushed to his feet using his good arm, threw a punch, and was knocked down just as quick.

He pushed up again, slower, groaning and still chuckling, he could barely see Matthias- a blind swing, then another, and he was again knocked once more.

He spat, thin limbs shook as he again tried to rise but his body betrayed him, his good arm collapsing so he fell face forward.

It should’ve been blessed peace… but it wasn’t.

He could barely move, each breath was agony, clear thoughts almost impossible but, there it was…

Nothing.

Drawing him down again, sucking the laughter, the sound, the pain, making it all fade away till it was only him, empty, alone… nothing.

“S’not enough,” he sobbed.

He needed more, another hit, a punch, break his other arm, throw him out to the dogs, for Saint’s sake-

“Stay down, please Jesper. I can't help you if you're dead.”

His fingers curled, Jesper’s arm pushed, and he tilted his head up, barely able to make out the form above him, it was huge, taking up everything.

Nothing.

“Please.” He slurred, head falling back with a broken sob.

He passed out, the fight was over.

He’d given all he had… and in return, nothing.

The nothing took him.

[maslittlerabbit]

JESPER FAHEY + MILO THE GOAT Shadow and Bone

[maslittlerabbit]

KIT YOUNG as JESPER FAHEY

+

SHADOW AND BONE: Season 1

[maslittlerabbit]

KIT YOUNG as JESPER FAHEY

+

SHADOW AND BONE: Season 1

[maslittlerabbit]

we are zowa, jes

[maslittlerabbit]

jesper: would you slap your best friend in the face for ten million kruge?

kaz: i'd roundhouse kick you in the face for free

jesper, tearing up: i'm your best friend?