[i][/i][hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/cQ1NPja.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/jttTmEk.png[/img][/center][right][b][code]Spanksgiving.[/code][/b][/right][right][b]Interactions: Vin ([@FernStone] (Not Paloma ([@Atrophy]))[/b][/right][hr][hr]

Destiny tilted her head slightly, the faint crease between her brows deepening. She can hear me. Not the words, not the tone, not the meaning behind them—just the awareness. Vin’s mind had locked onto her presence before she’d even spoken a syllable. That... shouldn’t happen. Not this fast. Not with someone new.

Her mental fingers hesitated, brushing against the flow of Vin’s thoughts. She felt the raw edges of calculation, the undercurrent of patience tempered with violence, the instinctive sorting of threats. Vin has seen everything. Everything like this before. She knows the streets. She knows survival. She knows what to expect from children who’ve grown too fast. She is.

Destiny’s pulse quickened. She ran through the possibilities, looping them over and over in her mind. [i]No. They can’t know this much. Not about me. They shouldn’t be able to trace me this easily. Is this magic? Reflex? Just instinct?[/i]

And yet, it wasn’t just instinct. She could feel it—the protective mechanisms honed over years of trauma, of being forced to watch people die, of fighting to keep someone else alive before herself. Vin’s mind was a map of experience, of violence and survival, of grudges and cautious tenderness. She paused over the last part. [i]Tenderness.[/i] Towards children. She froze. That shouldn’t be there.

Destiny tilted her head the other way, trying to rationalize it. Kindness? That’s not... real. That’s a trap. That’s an opening. People don’t just... care without wanting something. Her mind twisted through all the angles, scanning Vin’s memories and instincts like a prism, testing every reflection for deception, every gap for intent. But the kindness—the soft edge beneath the hardness—was [i]real.[/i] It didn’t fit. And that made her [i]nervous.[/i]

She swallowed, keeping her expression carefully neutral, though the tension coiled in her stomach. I can work with this. I can test this. But trust? Ha. Not yet. Not a chance.

She took a measured breath, letting the surface of her telepathy brush Vin’s calculations, her habitual readiness, without intruding. Every instinct, every unspoken rule, every hesitation—she cataloged it. Everything she absorbed would be a tool if she trained under Vin. She wouldn’t let sentiment or kindness cloud her judgment. That was a luxury she didn’t have.

Destiny’s gaze lifted, faintly narrowing as Vin’s words hit her ears. [color=51684c]“... Start properly tomorrow-”[/color] She nodded slightly to herself, already running scenarios in her mind. Timing, patience, observation, this wasn’t just about learning to fight. It was about learning to survive someone who could see you before you moved, someone who could predict your actions before you acted.

Good. This is worth her time.

She folded her hands in front of herself, voice low, deliberate, almost quiet enough to be a thought, but sharp enough to pierce:

[color=757566]“I’ll be ready.”[/color]

[quote=Vinny Sins][color=51684c]”You’re small, so you’re gonna have to learn [i]where[/i] to target. Probably so y’can run, but it ain’t like small means weak. And luckily for you, I was takin’ out assholes double my size at your age. I ain’t forgot what it’s like to not have the [i]strength[/i] I got now. But you ain’t gonna be survivin’ the training when you look like a breeze’d knock you over. You ate yet? Shit’s pretty good, and it’s actually [i]hot[/i]. Oh, right. Loudmouth over here already said my name-”[/color] Vin jerked their head towards Paloma. [color=51684c]”But I’m Vin. What’s your name, kid?”[/color][/quote]

Destiny didn’t flinch at the assessment, but she felt it—Vin’s mind flickering through memories of streets and fists and survival, sizing her up not to dismiss her... but to figure out how to keep her alive.

That alone threw her off-balance.

People didn’t think like that. Not about her. Not without wanting something. What’s the angle here? What’s the leverage? What do they get out of this? Vin’s concern - practical, rough, not sentimental - didn’t fit anywhere in her mental categories. She kept circling it, trying to decode the motive. [color=757566][i]Worried I’ll faint? Why? They don’t know me. They don’t need me. So why—[/i][/color]

Her brows tightened.

This is stupid. Stop thinking about it. It doesn’t matter.

Destiny straightened a little, chin lifting with a stubbornness that was more instinct than confidence.

[color=757566]“I’m not fragile,”[/color] she said quietly, matter-of-factly.

Her voice wasn’t defensive—just stating a truth she lived by. She hesitated a beat, then added because Vin seemed to expect an answer:

[color=757566]“... I ate yesterday.”[/color]

A pause.

[color=757566]“That’s enough.”[/color]

Not a lie. Not the whole truth. Just enough to shut down the softness she didn’t know how to handle.

When Vin asked her name, Destiny blinked once—slow, assessing again. She skimmed Vin’s surface thoughts one more time just to be sure: no traps, no pity, no manipulation, Just a fighter talking to someone smaller.

[color=757566][i]“... Destiny,”[/i][/color] she said finally. [color=757566]“My name is Destiny.”[/color]