8. Is the muse merciful or *cruel?
J’hasi’s usually a very merciful person. There’s only a few cases that he’s been cruel. Thalmor are the biggest case, obviously, if he’s allowed the time he’ll draw out the injuries and deaths unnecessarily. Same story with a few bandits and other such folks that were cruel to innocents in a way that conflicts deeply with how J’hasi feels others should treat each other.
An example can be found here. Warning: implied rape
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10. Is my muse honourable?
Depends. If his assailant is Thalmor, or is very clearly trying to kill him or harm others in any way, there is no honorable fighting. Survival takes precedence. Any fight J’hasi isn’t interested in taking part in and someone pushes him, also no honor, he’ll end it as quickly as he can with whatever’s at his disposal (following the mentality that ‘if you start a fight without regard for me, I’ll finish it without regard for you’).
Good-natured brawls/duels/sparring he’ll be honorable, as that’s something he’s agreed to, and is usually a learning experience, practice, and/or for funsies.
TL;DR J’hasi’s honorable unless you’re threatening survival/wellbeing of himself or others and/or being a dick. Show respect, get respect and all that.
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6. A drabble about the first time the muse killed someone.
The Khajiit shivered a little, surprised at the angry confession from the Dunmer, seeming to show no regret for what they’d done. Murdering someone, even a tax collector, and just…not caring… It scared him a little, but also made him angry. Did they not care about the Dunmer in the lighthouse? Thavere hadn’t even known their friend was dead until he’d said something. And the look on their face when he’d told them… J’hasi’s ears flicked back, brows furrowed.
“<That’s not excuse for murder.>” Foryn’s eyes narrowed on him.
“<You’re one of them, huh? Come to kill me? Well, give it your best shot, Khajiit. I’ve no problem spilling more of the blood of the Emperor’s lackeys!>” Before he could protest about the ‘lackey’ bit (or the killing bit for that matter), he was tackled into the wall behind him, yelping as a basket was crushed under him, head striking the wood at his back with a hiss. The Dunmer’s fingers groped for his neck, J’hasi’s tail puffing as he tried to shove them away, get them away from his neck, but the haft of his spear wasn’t much use in such close quarters, not when he was also trying to keep from being strangled.
“<W-wait!>” he yelped, only for the mer to grab the collar of his armor, lifting him up and slamming him into the wall, knocking him silly, letting him go only to grip around his throat and squeeze. The Khajiit started to panic, squirming, eyes wide, shocked and not knowing what to do, he had to get away, he had to breathe. It wasn’t until the edges of his vision started to darken that it hit him.
He was going to die here.
It was when the reality of that set in that J’hasi started to wriggle, teeth bared, biting at the air, hands grabbing the mer’s wrists and sinking his claws in, drawing his legs up, the claws on his toes tearing into fabric and skin as he kicked, clawing, biting, trying to get away. The Dunmer let out a long, loud stream of curses, letting go and backing away, blood staining their front and skin as the Khajiit gasped for breath like a beached fish.
“<You n’wah!>” Foryn rushed him again, but this time panic and adrenaline fueled the young Khajiit’s body like shock magic, darting underneath the arms reaching for his throat again, tackling them and knocking them over onto the ground. The mer let out a huff of air, hands reaching for his throat again, J’hasi’s tail puffing behind him before he grabbed the sides of the Dunmer’s head, bringing it up, and slamming it down.
Over.
And over.
And over…
The Khajiit was shaking, not realizing he’d been crying, eyes wide and cheeks damp, hands trembling as he realized that the dampness at his fingertips couldn’t be from tears.
Red. Red on the floor, under the mer’s head…
J’hasi’s breathing hitched sharply in his throat, scrambling back, kicking frantically to get away from a body he realized was dead, his back hitting the door with a thump. He looked at his hands, finding that his fingertips were darker, the scent of iron and salt biting at his nose. He hurriedly wiped it away on the dirt floor, his hands and…everything trembling uncontrollably. The glassy stare of the mer was still locked on the ceiling, where his face had been only…only moments before… The same look of shock and realization frozen in place… The Khajiit’s own face screwed up, closing his eyes, grabbing at the sides of his head as he started sobbing.
He just killed someone.
vvardenfellcat 