#Clee Dternás

[lumpofwhump]

The Scavenger and the Forgotten 6: The Children of Io

Content warning: Minor character death, cult dynamics, bad caretaker

Continued from here.

--

"Look, ammo is what I've got," Clee insisted with a frustrated gesture. "Do you want it, or would you prefer to keep your stupid safe straw?"

The lean, sharp-eyed Girn on the other side of this negotiation scoffed. "Bullets for a KAM-5? The only guys using those right now would shoot me dead on sight. Meanwhile, it looks like Grampy here could use some stupid clean water from my stupid safe straw." She pointed to Radu, and smirked as the old genmod shrunk still further in on himself upon being noticed. "It's ten in coin or nothing."

"Coin?! Who the fuck carries coin anymore?"

"The two of you, from the looks of it," the other Girn said, sounding as calm as Clee did irritable. "Your friend's got some nice clothes. New ones, even. Can't buy those with bullets."

Clee groaned, tired of arguing with this smug bitch already. Up until a few minutes ago, this had been her first day in a week with no headaches. "Six," she conceded, all but tossing two pieces of metal currency at the woman.

She caught it easily, and inspected it closely before nodding with satisfaction. "Looks like the half-a-kriv can be halfway honest. Makes enough sense."

"Go to hell," Clee shot back.

The other woman smirked. "Which one?"

She was about to suggest Chemoghlu - the lady didn't seem like she'd hold up all that well being stuck swimming upstream through a river of scalding-hot shit in the midst of a stampede of angry deimels for all eternity - when Radu urgently tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yeah, fine, let's get going," she grumbled, managing not to snap at him even as her shoulders tensed. She snatched the water filtration straw from the other Girn's hand and turned around, her eyes settling on a group of five approached humans. Or humanoids, at least.

Clee felt a pit in her stomach seeing their hodgepodge armor, made up of lab protective gear patched together to fit people much bigger than its original owners. Of all the genmod factions she'd considered bringing Radu to, the fanatics calling themselves the Children of Io had been dead last on her list.

The guy in front, though… he wasn't from the labs, at not least as a subject. He barely looked genmod at all. He did look like he needed a good punch to the face, though.

Apparently the other woman agreed. "Shit, this guy again," she muttered, clamping her hand tightly over the coins she was holding.

He gave the group of them an unpleasant smirk as his four much more formidable friends raised weapons as varied as their armor at the group. "I thought we had this talk already… Izhekna, was it?" he said, eyes on the Girn vendor. "Just because you turned informant doesn't mean you can go back to selling us in our own territory." He gestured toward Radu.

"I-I wasn't -- the Hiukree here and her lab… her f-friend, they were robbing me!" Izhekna pleaded in thickly-accented Ganymedean, her eyes darting between Clee and the apparent leader of this squad.

"Nice try," the man said casually, ignoring Clee as she sputtered to defend herself against the accusation, right before one of the soldiers fired a shot directly into Izhekna's head. The older woman collapsed to the ground with hardly a sound, while Radu yelped and jumped back, his clothes now coated in blood.

Clee was equally blood spattered, but too stunned to react as two of the soldiers approached until their hands closed around her arms. She pulled and thrashed at her captors, jabbing one of them hard enough with the water filtration straw that they audibly hissed in pain. The same soldier pried the device out from between her fingers, not particularly gently, and threw it to the ground.

"Oh, are you fucking kidding me?!" Clee raged as this entire errand became worse than pointless.

As the straw hit the ground, though, Radu snapped to attention. "Clee!" he shouted. "Let go of Clee, she --"

"You don't have to worry about her anymore," one of the armored figures told him gently. "We won't let her hurt you."

"No, she helps me! I-I need her," Radu insisted.

"You know her?" The apparent leader groaned and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The arrogant bastard was unarmored, Clee now realized. "Well. this just turned into a giant mess," he said, sounding very put-upon by this situation. "Look, we're gonna take you both back to base and get things sorted out there, got it?"

"Doesn't look like we've got much of a choice," Clee pointed out. "Any way you can let me walk on my own here?"

He studied her for a minute without reply. There was a flash of something, maybe recognition, in his eyes, and he shook his head quickly. "Nah," he said, and started off back in the direction they'd come from.

The second pair of soldiers didn't put hands on Radu, but stood between him and Clee despite his attempts to push past them as they walked. The still-recovering older genmod was at a clear disadvantage against their much stronger, uninjured captors. At a certain point, he struggled to even minimally keep up with the group, and reluctantly accepted an offered hand from one of the two soldiers in front of him.

Twenty minutes later, they stopped just outside a single-story concrete building, miraculously all but completely intact. The plaque outside the gate was faded and rusted, and Clee could just barely make out some of the letters: R D OPM NT C NTE 8.

Before she could try to decipher it with her only tenuous grasp of written Ganymedean, though, she heard voices from above. A handful of sentries called out greetings, and the armed soldiers behind her waved.

"And look, he made it back," one of the watchers said in an amused voice, pointing to the unarmored man leading them. "'Ey Mira, you're taking over cleaning duty tonight, it looks like."

"Whatever," Clee could hear as they reached the gate. "You know I'm just gonna make him do it anyways."

One of the two soldiers pulling Clee along laughed along with the sentries. Meanwhile, their leader clenched his hands into fists with a low growl, his knuckles going nearly white.

No, not a leader, Clee realized. A human shield.

"So what's the Girn for?" Mira called down to her comrades, wrinkling her nose a bit.

The person to her left thumbed back at Radu. "Our new friend here wouldn't come without her."

"Huh," Mira said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, bring 'em in." With that, the group of them entered a walled-off sally port, which had traces of the same medical smell that had permeated Satellite Office 83.

"I'll search her," the apparent third captive of their group volunteered with a nod to Clee, a bit too eagerly, as the last of the four soldiers locked the door behind them.

One of her two escorts scoffed. "What, so you can take whatever she's got on her?"

"Can't be anything too valuable," the other said, raising an eyebrow at Clee. "'Sides. It's almost lunch. If we don't have to waste rations on this dipshit, so much the better." He turned to loom over the much smaller man in front of him. "Anything we find on you that hasn't made it into inventory, and the Commander'll be sending whatever bits of you are left to the GSH in a box."

He of the Punchable Face let out an undignified whimper and reflexively raised his hands. "Okay, I get the point!" he snapped with wounded pride, only earning himself a laugh.

The soldiers let go of Clee, finally, and headed for the door in front of them.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and fed," the soldier that Radu was now outright leaning on for support tried to coax him.

As they passed, though, Radu grasped Clee's hand tightly. "Clee, though," he said, he said almost pleadingly. "I need -- what are you going to do with her?!"

"She'll still be here when we're done," they replied, a bit exasperated. "We'll get this sorted out, and who knows, maybe she can join us."

Clee guessed that the chances of that were pretty low. She forced a crooked smile at Radu, though, and squeezed his hand briefly before pulling away. "Hey, see you soon, alright?"

The soldiers seemed to relax more at this display than Radu did. He nodded glumly, slumping and letting himself be escorted through the door into the base. He looked over his shoulder with a last worried glance back at her before one of the soldiers closed and locked the door behind them.

"What did you to get him so attached?" the remaining human asked after a beat, echoing her own thoughts. "And what kind of a name is Clee, anyways?"

"It's my name," she snapped. "What's yours, anyways? Or should I just call you Dipshit like they do?"

The man scowled. Up close, his gritted teeth only were only slightly better than Radu's, and his narrowed eyes were mismatched, one brown and one green. "'Sir' would be fine," he informed her, taking hold of her roughly as he started to rummage through her pockets.

"Pffft," Clee responded, leading him to tighten his grip, his uneven nails digging into her skin. "Not even your own guys like you that much."

"They're not 'my guys,'" he fumed. "They're just a bunch of…!" He stopped short, looking quickly back toward the door. "Anyways. What've you got on you? Let's see… bullets? Meh," he said, stuffing them into his pockets all the same. "Some coin, that's a bit better, and… hel-lo, what's this?" He slid the pack of lycadone vials out of her coat pocket just as she remembered they were there.

"Hey, give those --!" she demanded, struggling and grabbing for them, only to be cut off a grating laugh of triumph from Sir Dipshit as he read the label.

"Oh MAN," he said, holding them just out of her reach with a gleam in his eyes. "You really made my day, you know that? Do you even know what this is?"

"It was my ticket offworld," Clee snapped. "What's it to you, a pat on the head? You heard them, they're not gonna let you keep it."

He shot her a glare, which she met with a smirk of her own. "You should maybe stick to worrying about your own problems," he shot back. "Like what'll happen when they find out you were gonna ditch the old guy."

"What do you --"

"'My ticket offworld,' wasn't that what you just said?" he said mockingly, with another unpleasant buck-toothed smile. "I'll let them figure that part out for themselves, though. I owe you one." He nodded to the vials in his hand, still frustratingly out of reach.

"Look," Clee said sharply in a low voice. "You don't want to be here any more than I do. We split the stuff, and we both get out of here." She regretted the words as she spoke them at the thought of spending any more time under the insufferable human, but she figured she could steal the already twice-over ill-gotten gains back soon enough. "And Radu… he'll be safer here. They'll know what to do for him."

The expression on her captor's face made her even less certain than she'd already felt. He shook his head and went on with his search, finding no further treasure to his obvious disappointment. "Let's go," he growled and edged her forward, driving a sharp foot driven down into the back of her heel. She let out a squeal of discomfort, and looked back indignantly at the human, who flashed her a nasty smile in response.

He pushed her through the door into the repurposed compound. She nearly gagged at the smell of what could be only described as that of death itself. She heard her escort swallow behind her, apparently no more inured to it than she was. He recovered enough to pull her collection of coins and bullets out of his pocket and hold them out for inspection, as well as inevitable confiscation. "And she would've had more if we hadn't caught her when we did," he said. "She was about to sell the other one off in exchange for passage to Earth."

"Not what we heard from him, Fletcher," a man lounging in a chair behind a long bolted-down metal table said in a bored tone, disregarding Clee's loud objections.

She immediately stopped short in her protests upon hearing his voice, one that she and every other resident of Ganymede had heard countless times over the vids throughout the dome. It took only a quick look to confirm it. He had light brown skin framed by pitch-black hair that seemed at odds with his strikingly pale grey eyes. Even sitting down he was a slight man, but had an aura of power about him that more than made up for it.

"'Oh, but we killed all the body doubles!'" the clone of Governor Jas Knossos said mockingly, echoing Clee's thoughts, before giving a casual shrug. "Is it really so surprising that they missed a few?" He gave her a smile that was not at all reassuring when coupled with his piercing stare. "So, Clee, if I remember right. Maybe you could help me figure out where things stand. Both of my sources at this point are hardly reliable." His gaze shifted over toward the human, taking on a look of contempt.

Clee swallowed. Double or not, speaking to someone with this voice, and worse still this face, was not something she'd ever expected to happen. "I-I was planning to bring Radu here anyways," she lied. The clone's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, suggesting that he saw through this, but she pushed forward into safer territory. "I had another way offworld anyways. Too bad this guy stole it." She thumbed at Fletcher.

"It'd have to be more than a few coins, then," the clone said, raising his eyebrows in interest but then pinning Fletcher with a sharp gaze.

"Try twenty four sealed vials of lycadone," Clee responded. "I can imagine that'd be pretty useful to you all."

Fletcher only laughed. "Search me, then," he said, arms spread out. "Just take me to a private room first if you're going to be thorough with it, will you?"

"That won't be necessary," the clone said. "Search their route here," he ordered the people behind him with only the slightest tilt of his head in their direction. Two of them nodded and passed by Clee and Fletcher, with one giving the latter an abrupt shove to the shoulder. He hissed in pain and tensed as if he'd been hit there before none too far back.

"Okay, I'm curious," Clee said after a long awkward silence that was making Fletcher visibly uncomfortable. "How'd you get this bunch, of all people, to follow the same guy who put them in the labs?"

Her captor chortled. "I'm not exactly 'the same guy' as the Lunan Exile. I grew up in the labs like everyone else here did."

The last person standing behind him, a woman with a distant expression who could have easily been his twin, spoke up. "Commander Alexei led us out of that place, and he leads us on to Io. He'll leave not a single genmod behind."

Clee tried not to grimace at the monotone recitation of the apparent party line. "And what about the rest of us?" she ventured.

"It depends," Alexei responded. "When it comes to you personally, what were you really about to do with your captive?"

"His name's Radu, and he's not my captive," Clee couldn't help but snap despite Alexei's narrowed eyes. "If it hadn't been for me, he'd be back in --"

"We found it," called out one of Alexei's guards as they returned. "Turns out he'd gotten his hands on a whole number of things." The guard spilled out the contents of a small box onto the bolted-down table. Coins, the lycadone, and worse still for Fletcher, a IET-12 plasma arc weapon.

Fletcher went pale.

"I'd ask what you were thinking of doing with these," Alexei said, not even looking up at him, "But I can't see you actually coming up with a plan." He turned his gaze in the vague direction of his guards. "I'm sure the GSH would be interested in having this one," he said. "And her… she can help around here until we can find out who'll pay a ransom for her."

Good luck with that, Clee thought bitterly. "Help out how?" she demanded as one of the guards took hold of her.

"Like I said. That'll depend on what we can find out about you and Radu," Alexei said.

The woman standing behind them stared blankly at the group of them as the guards turned Clee and Fletcher roughly away and marched them off further into the complex.

--

For his part, Radu wouldn't have noticed any of this even if he'd been able to hear it. He leaned into the wrinkled hand of someone he thought he'd never see again as she slowly ran a comb through his mess of hair with the other. Her appearance was different from what he remembered - red hair, she was supposed to have red hair - but he would've recognized that touch anywhere.

"Now let's look at the rest of you," the woman said in a reassuring voice, reaching around him to lift a hand covered in scabs that suddenly stiffened in fear. "Radu...! How did this happen? It looks like we'll have to relearn how to handle that, then, won't we?"

Radu's blood ran cold.

--

Taglist (let me know if you want on or off)

@verkja

@whumpsday

@skinofafish

@whither-wander-whump

[lumpofwhump]

🎫 for Clee and Radu?

-verkja

Thanks for the asks!

Clee is not a fan of any of the factions in the Ganymedean Civil War, but she would sell supplies to most of them… or “donate” to avoid recruitment by some of them. She refused to help two out of principle, though. The first was the Ganymedean Soldiers for Humanity, a naturalborn supremacist militia. The second was the Girnic Underground, an organized crime group of Dhurghla Girn run in large part by war criminals from the so-called “War of Unification”/genocide against her ethnic group back on the home planet.

Radu is often non-speaking, both because of the extreme trauma he endured in the Redevelopment Center and because of the loss of his teeth later in life. When in a more stable situation, he uses alternative and augmentative communication (i.e., type-to-speech devices) to talk. His device also acts as a translator, which he’s used for surprisingly devious purposes on at least one occasion.

[lumpofwhump]

For Usalmy: witch’s broom?

For Barclay: wonderland?

For Clee: rose petal?

For you: roses and glow?

-verkja

Thank you very much for the asks!

Usalmy: witch’s broom - Do you ever wish you could be a child again? Why?

She thinks she would enjoy going back to childhood. First, because she wouldn’t have so many responsibilities. Second, because she’d get to go back to a time where she wasn’t a disappointment or a laughingstock to pretty much her entire family and class.

BUT. She forgets how little control she had as a child. It wasn’t the extreme lack of autonomy that people like Harlowe and Clee dealt with, but it was still something she chafed under when she felt certain adults or older children were beneath her. She also remembers herself being much more well-liked by her peers than she actually was. She didn’t have a terrible social life as a kid, but it wasn’t quite as enjoyable as she remembers it.

Barclay: wonderland - What are you looking for in a friend?

He wants someone who has his back no matter how hard it gets. If not someone who will actually stick up for and protect him (which he would 100% never admit to wanting), then someone who will keep his secrets and cover for him. He does end up with someone in that role, thankfully.

Clee: rose petal - A few small things that make you happy?

She’s currently got twenty four small things tucked away in her coat pockets that have made her very happy so far… let’s see if she can keep them. 😈

Less literally, though, her favorite small joys are:

Numkarge (pronounced numb-CAR-yeh), a delicious, sweet blasphemy against multiple Girnic cuisines common in throughout the Sol system.

Telling tourists in the alien district of the wildest shit she can come up with about Girn culture and history, using the worst possible imitation of a boglander accent, and seeing how much she can get them to believe… and how much they’ll pay her as a “tour guide” to spin such bullshit.

Watching laughably bad dubs of cheesy Sarverni soap operas. Ironically. It’s not like she’s heavily invested in the relationship between two secondary characters in that one show or anything. And she definitely did not cry even a little at the major character death in the most recent season finale of another.

Me: roses - What fictional universe would you like to live in?

To continue with the Owl House brainrot, the Boiling Isles could be fun. Having magic is the default, you get a magical critter friend that also turns into a staff you can fly on, being queer is seemingly widely accepted, there’s a lot of weird-looking people so I wouldn’t feel too out there… of course, living under a despot who wants to destroy the world is a major con here.

Babylon 5 would also be a good choice, especially being on the eponymous space station. It seems like an interesting place even without all the events of the show, what with being amongst all types of aliens, and just… the experience of being in space. Plus, because relatively small setting, there’s a bigger chance I’d run into and be able to interact with blorbo from this particular show. Geeking out with Vir about Earth history would be awesome.

And in both these settings -one because healing magic, one because futuristic technology - I wouldn’t have to factor in not having my medical needs met.

Me: glow - What do you value most in people?

Staying kind and trying to do well by people even/especially after facing terrible things. Depending on the person, it makes me want to follow them, protect them, or both.

[lumpofwhump]

Morbid for Barclay, gash for Clee, and grim for Lenavee?

-verkja

Thanks for the asks!

TW: Suicidality, self-mutilation.

Morbid: how do they feel about death? Either their own or others?

Barclay is generally pretty scared of dying. He reaches the point of despair and pain where he just about kills himself a couple of times, but even then he isn’t able to go through with it when the means are available to him.

He’s only slightly less afraid of the deaths of the few people close to him. His dad’s death (and things he learned about his dad shortly after…) really destabilized him, so permanent abandonment - through death or by choice - is something he will avoid at most costs.

He tells himself that he’s not bothered by the deaths of subjects. His nightmares suggest otherwise.

Gash: what's something they don't tell others? And/or themselves?

Clee doesn’t tell other people that she broke her own horns off rather than it being done to her as punishment. In fact, as we saw with Radu, she doesn’t tell people she had any. She tries to pretend to herself that she isn’t ashamed of herself for doing what in Hiukree culture is a drastic form of self-mutilation to avoid (as much) stigma.

Grim: what do they want out of life? Do they think they'll get it?

Since her capture as a young child, Lenavee’s wanted to no longer be exploited in any form. For a long time, she’d completely given up on that hope, and settled for getting what little sort of safety and independence she could through manipulation and subterfuge. Since finding a number of people (including Morton, Harlowe, Drulović, and Byron in the Kohat verse, and Varin and Barclay in the Enclave continuity, among others) - who don’t want to use her, she’s becoming cautiously optimistic that something else is possible. It’s not helping, however, that Hiukree separatist terrorists are trying to recruit her as a propagandist, and targeting her friends to force her to help them.

As far as relationships go, in the Kohatverse, she’s pretty sure that there’s little to no chance of Morton reciprocating her feelings, much less acting on them, so she tries to make his life a little easier and pretends that what little successes she has in doing so are enough.

She wants her birth family to be alive, and to see them again, but she hasn’t let herself hope that any of them made it for a long time.

She holds out hope that her found family will be safe, though… and will go to pretty extreme lengths, at her own expense and others’, to make that possible.

[lumpofwhump]

OC Picrew Masterlist

Here are all my OCs in one place! More details on each will be added if and when they appear.

Topher Farley (he/him)

Role(s): Whumpee / Caretaker

Continuities: Sci-Fi Whump Series

[Image description: White man with messy teal hair, darker blue eyes, and glasses. He has a plain white shirt and a brown coat. He has a shy smile.]

Clee Dternás (she/her)

Roles: Caretaker / Whumpee

Continuities: Sci-Fi Whump (The Scavenger & the Forgotten)

[Image description: Pale green woman with long pointed ears and fangs. She has bright blue eyes, freckles, and large, bushy hair light brown hair. She has a baggy brown coat over a white shirt. She looks skeptical or frustrated. Antennae and broken horns not pictured.]

Radu (E2218R7) (he/him)

Roles: Whumpee

Continuities: Sci-Fi Whump (The Scavenger & the Forgotten)

[Image description: A grey-skinned man with pointed ears and long, stringy grey hair. He has exoskeloton/horns and yellow-ish eyes. He has a blanket draped over a white shirt. His expression is frightened/disoriented. Not pictured are his larger size, older age, and wings.]

Harlowe (she/her)

Roles: Caretaker / Whumpee

Continuities: Sci-Fi Whump (Prisoners of War)

[Image description: Brown-skinned woman with short, dark brown hair and a yellow eye. Her other eye is covered in an eye patch. Her face is splattered with blood, and she has a scar along her face and a black eye. She's wearing a black t-shirt. She has a displeased or challenging expression.]

Byron Hackett (he/him):

Roles: Whumpee

Continuities: Sci-Fi Whump (Prisoners of War)

[Image description: White man with short, messy blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and glasses. He's wearing a black t-shirt over a long-sleeved white shirt. He's bandaged up on the side of his face, his nose, and his neck; has dark circles under his eyes; and is blood-spattered. His expression is frightened, and he's holding his hands up defensively in front of him.]

Samantha Koutoujian (she/her):

Roles: Whumper

Continuities: Sci-Fi Whump (Prisoners of War)

[Image description: A white woman with shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes. She's wearing a collared white shirt and a grey collared uniform jacket. She's smirking.]

Barclay Fletcher (he/him):

Roles: Whumpee / Carewhumper

Continuities: The Enclave

[Image description: A young white man with almost shoulder-length dirty blond/light brown hair and odd eyes - the left green and the right a neutral color. He has freckles and dark circles under his eyes. He's wearing an off-white collared shirt. He has a smirk with large prominent front teeth.]

Other characters:

(From left to right):

Alina Maddox (she/her) [Pale white woman with long neon green hair and pointed ears. She has tinted orange lenses, and fangs. She's wearing partially unbuttoned blue overalls over an orange sweater over a black t-shirt. She's grinning or laughing with an open mouth. Not pictured: Yellow eyes with oblong horizontal pupils.]

Zail Quendatt (he/him) [Green-skinned man with unkempt brown hair and yellow eyes. His ears are long and pointed. He has a coat over a white shirt. He looks indignant. Not pictured: Antennae, left one bent/broken.)

Lenavee Yuim (she/her) [Green-skinned woman with horns and long pointed ears. She has long white hair and bright blue eyes. She's wearing earrings, a sleeveless black shirt, and a floral-patterned shawl of sorts. Not pictured: Antennae.]

Alaric (he/him) [Tanned-skin man with pointed ears, shoulder-length dark red hair, and red eyes. He has a beauty mark on the right side of his face. He's wearing a white shirt with a baggy brown coat. He looks unimpressed.]

Kethry (she/her) [Green-skinned woman with long, dark red hair in a pony tail and long, pointed ears. She has bright blue eyes. She's wearing a green coat over a white shirt. She has a shit-eating grin. Not pictured: Antennae.]

Paul Waldrop (he/him) [Middle aged white man with wavy grey hair and grey eyes. He has rectangular glasses, and is wearing a grey suit with a striped collared shirt and a blue tie. He has an uncertain look on his face.]

Sarah Kyzer (nee Maddox) (she/her) [White woman with shoulder-length pink hair, pointed ears, and yellow eyes. She has a grey bow in her hair, and is wearing a dark red and grey capelet. She's smirking and licking blood off her right hand.]

Usalmy Shem (she/her) [Green-skinned woman with long, pointed ears, dark purplish hair, and dark blue-grey eyes. She's wearing a lilac cardigan over a pink collared shirt. She has an unpleasant smirk on her face. Not pictured: Antennae.]

Jas Knossos (he/him) [Light tan-skinned man with pale grey eyes and black hair kept in a pony tail. He's wearing a light grey button-up coat. He's holding up a bloodied fist and looking quite unimpressed.]

[lumpofwhump]

💥 for Barclay and 🍧 for Clee?

-verkja

Thanks for the asks!

Barclay Fletcher

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

All of them but anger lol Shame vs. confidence is what he struggles with most. Because of first social and then family rejection, he feels inherently inadequate. Then, given the chance to prove himself, he actually does things he should (and does, despite his best attempts to ignore it) feel bad about… all for praise, acceptance and status that becomes harder and harder to keep or achieve as time goes on.

Clee Dternás

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

A hair tie from home with the Hiukree side of her family’s colors and pattern. She actually hated it before she was taken, because it was a reminder of how she could never get the unruly, curly hair she inherited from her boglander parent to look as nice as that of her northern cousins’. But when she was taken to Ganymede, she quickly learned that her traffickers would hold anything and everything important to her and the other captives hostage. So she decided to make as big a deal as she could about that being her most prized possession to distract from things she valued more. Ironically, it’s one of the few things she has left from home, with other kids having stolen more valuable items.

A heavy but ragged cowl of sorts that she wore on the trip down through the mountains to the capital on Girn before being taken to Ganymede. It used to nearly swallow her, but now it’s a bit small. Her captors let her keep it to wear when she went out to sell trinkets because it made them seem more “authentic.”

The carving knife she started using to make said trinkets. She always told herself she’d use it to escape one day, but in the end she didn’t have to. She keeps it just in case.