[The conversation after the naturalisation of Tethe'allan POWs changed the tenor of the household. It had rarely been awkward, but afterward it was definitely more comfortable, to a degree that when Kratos realises how much more settled he felt, he finds himself fighting off a wave of homesickness -- as if his emotions are trying to remind him where he was really from.
[Kratos makes himself quietly known at the military headquarters, travelling in with Yuan twice a week to perform some chores and run some messages to ease the burden of work on Yuan's shoulders. He recommends some people who can benefit from the quiet aid of a high-ranking officer, ensuring those people always know it's Yuan to thank. So far, no one's actually thanked him in person, that Kratos can tell -- but the greetings seem warmer, and opinions softened, where gossip is concerned. It's a start.
[He sees some evidence of the naturalisation around, as well. Before, the Tethe'allan slaves had nodded to one another but otherwise left each other alone. Now, those who choose citizenship receive anything from flat glares to stony cold shoulders from the ones who don't. Kratos sees someone from his old regiment serving people at a stall at the market; the man's sales pitch cuts off with a strangle when he realises who Kratos is, and he's unable to look Kratos in the face thereafter. Kratos tries not to judge, and fails -- but he manages to keep it off his face. The man's guilt does enough, without Kratos's feelings adding to it. The slave-braid, on a Tethe'allan, represents loyalty these days.
[That isn't a good thing, in some respects. People aren't happy about Tethe'allans receiving citizenship, but the law now protects the ones that do. They're also not happy by the stirrings of defiance owned by the Tethe'allans who choose to keep their slave-braids. Tethe'allan slaves are the logical targets of this kind of grudge.
[At first Kratos manages to escape this. Only at first. Then his market trips become an exercise in stubbornness seeing him through. It's mostly youths -- people young enough to claim age as a defence, but still know precisely what they're doing; possibly even endorsed by someone older. He can't tell.
[But his market trips start taking longer, so he starts them early -- to avoid the risk of Yuan coming home before he's back. He can't afford not to take his cane; but he starts regretting that Yuan had bought him such a sturdy one. He covers his basket, and starts buying some cheap items appealing to children, in the hope they'll settle for stealing those and leave the rest alone. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it results in his groceries strewn across a footpath.
[It's wearing, but Kratos continues grimly on. He can handle bruises, and the youths are careful not to hurt his face, those times they're moved to violence. The time he spent trying to bring his bad leg up to a satisfactory standard is valuable, but stops mattering after a while. Every step is pain. Still, he perseveres.
[... Right up until his leg collapses on him in a stairwell at the military facility, and he winds up tumbling down the steps with a Tethe'allan curse. At the bottom he lays for a moment, winded, before pulling himself up on the wall, hoping no one saw. He'd been alone in the stairwell -- surely no one had seen.
[It might be best if he rests for a minute, here against the wall.]
BONDVERSE; respective duties
[Kratos makes himself quietly known at the military headquarters, travelling in with Yuan twice a week to perform some chores and run some messages to ease the burden of work on Yuan's shoulders. He recommends some people who can benefit from the quiet aid of a high-ranking officer, ensuring those people always know it's Yuan to thank. So far, no one's actually thanked him in person, that Kratos can tell -- but the greetings seem warmer, and opinions softened, where gossip is concerned. It's a start.
[He sees some evidence of the naturalisation around, as well. Before, the Tethe'allan slaves had nodded to one another but otherwise left each other alone. Now, those who choose citizenship receive anything from flat glares to stony cold shoulders from the ones who don't. Kratos sees someone from his old regiment serving people at a stall at the market; the man's sales pitch cuts off with a strangle when he realises who Kratos is, and he's unable to look Kratos in the face thereafter. Kratos tries not to judge, and fails -- but he manages to keep it off his face. The man's guilt does enough, without Kratos's feelings adding to it. The slave-braid, on a Tethe'allan, represents loyalty these days.
[That isn't a good thing, in some respects. People aren't happy about Tethe'allans receiving citizenship, but the law now protects the ones that do. They're also not happy by the stirrings of defiance owned by the Tethe'allans who choose to keep their slave-braids. Tethe'allan slaves are the logical targets of this kind of grudge.
[At first Kratos manages to escape this. Only at first. Then his market trips become an exercise in stubbornness seeing him through. It's mostly youths -- people young enough to claim age as a defence, but still know precisely what they're doing; possibly even endorsed by someone older. He can't tell.
[But his market trips start taking longer, so he starts them early -- to avoid the risk of Yuan coming home before he's back. He can't afford not to take his cane; but he starts regretting that Yuan had bought him such a sturdy one. He covers his basket, and starts buying some cheap items appealing to children, in the hope they'll settle for stealing those and leave the rest alone. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it results in his groceries strewn across a footpath.
[It's wearing, but Kratos continues grimly on. He can handle bruises, and the youths are careful not to hurt his face, those times they're moved to violence. The time he spent trying to bring his bad leg up to a satisfactory standard is valuable, but stops mattering after a while. Every step is pain. Still, he perseveres.
[... Right up until his leg collapses on him in a stairwell at the military facility, and he winds up tumbling down the steps with a Tethe'allan curse. At the bottom he lays for a moment, winded, before pulling himself up on the wall, hoping no one saw. He'd been alone in the stairwell -- surely no one had seen.
[It might be best if he rests for a minute, here against the wall.]