galratech | (no subject)

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[Shiro doesn't remember falling, but it feels a little like he's been dropped off a high building and frankly, given the likelihood that he was teleported here, for whatever reason... he doubts, with his luck, that it was a gentle landing. He deeply considers lying prone for a few more minutes, but the sound of excited voices filter through to his awareness past the pain, talking about a 'beam of light'. Before he can think about how much he hurts, he's rolling into a tense, ready crouch, just in time for several large shapes to break through the foliage. Shiro can only gape at the variety of the figures that fan out to surround him, scales and vines and wings. He hasn't seen such a menagerie gathered in one place since, well... the coliseum.

It's not a comforting comparison.

Weary dread sluices through Shiro's body as they circle him, jeering. He seems weak! and King Darc will know just what to do with this one. and He'll be quite a prize, with this last line, an echo from the past again, ratcheting his pulse up until it feels like his chest will break. Though Shiro knows from their tone it won't do any good, he warns them to back off just once before lunging at the nearest one, hoping surprise will give him enough edge to run.]

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[Darc straightens up, alert. He still sits very casually, so far entirely against the ground or rocks. Nothing very royal, but the intensity of his gaze on Shiro demands respect anyway.

Though he feels like he's reeling. He hasn't met any new humans in a long time. And here is another human who wants peace, who asks after his people's struggles. Who knows nothing of their war, and doesn't look at Darc with disgust, or even fear. Covered in scars, an escaped warrior slave. And curious about him. Darc's heart pounds a bit.]

What do you want to know?

Edited 2017-01-24 07:32 (UTC)

[As Shiro mulls this over it occurs to him that Darc actually seems pretty young in good lighting, voice aside. Who knows how Deimos age, but if Shiro's going by human standards, he'd put him closer to Keith's age. That merits a little more scrutiny, Shiro's gaze sweeping over him thoughtfully.]

How did you come to be King of the Deimos?

[ah. For the first time Darc doesn't scowl. He sneers instead, wry]

What, I don't look like it?

You seem pretty young, [He says honestly.] But your people seem to care about you and believe in you a lot. Seems like there might be a story there.

[Wait, what

??]

I-- I do? They what?

[... Given how obvious Camillia and those minions were, how is it not... Obvious... Shiro still feels like he's missing something. ]

Between Camillia and those people who brought me back, that's the impression I got.

[oh, Camillia.

Darc sighs.]

... Camillia is a special case. As for the rest, you're still drugged, Shiro.

The Deimos are ruled by laws of power. That's all we knew or understood, all we were born for. I dominated them by force in order to change them-- have some peace and prosperity, for a change. As you likely experienced, it's slow going. They obey me because they know I'm stronger than them, that's all. If I don't improve life for all Deimos like I've sworn to, I'll have someone at my neck sooner or later.

[He wasn't drugged when they brought him in, but that's probably too fine a point to make. Still... ]

They seem to want to follow your rules. I attacked them—not very successfully, but they still refused to hurt me. ... They said they wanted to bring me back in good shape because it might cheer you up.

. . .

They. . . [He shakes his head, sighing.]

You don't understand. That's all because they respect my power.

[does he really want to explain this to a stoned human who fell out of the sky. how lonely IS he? And how easily disarmed is he by big staring earnest human eyes, for fuck's sake. He gets an itch to flap his wings irritably, and scratches at his arm instead.]

Can't you tell that I'm not like them?

[They want him to feel better because they respect his power. That sounds fake but okay Shiro is not going to pretend he's an expert on this alien species right now.]

I've only seen a small sample size, and you've all been pretty different, so I wasn't sure.

[chuffs. He's not sure if that's comforting or not but he'll take it.]

Fair enough.

[he juts his chin up.]

I was a slave, too. That's where I got my scars.

But my father left me the responsibility to save the Deimos from the humans, and from themselves. So I fought, and killed everyone who tried to kill me, all the way to the top.

[Shiro's eyes trail back to those scars, on mention.]

... That's an incredible accomplishment.

[behind the battered silver armor, for the most part. But there's no covering all of them.

Darc stares at him, the praise sinking in to his bones. It's one thing to blast his pride in front of Deimos, but to another ex-slave... maybe Shiro understood, on some scale. Even a little.]

You've escaped and outgrown your captors as well. Your story... how you hold yourself, even drugged and wounded. I can't stop looking at you.

[Given that he just had an episode in front of Darc and tried to cover it up and the restless itch having his scars exposed stirs in him, he feels especially unworthy of the compliment and totally at a loss to respond. At least the wide-eyed astonishment he can blame on the drugs. The blush was probably inevitable either way.

Shiro picks his way through a response.]

I think... [No, he can't just dismiss it. Not coming from Darc. Knowing what Shiro knows Darc knows now, he feels so much more exposed.] Thank you. I'm really not sure what to say. I'll have to think about it.

[This last addition from stoned Shiro, a person who thinks compliments are incredible serious.]

[Darc's eyes go wider at that reaction. For a second he looks like he might sputter.

Instead, twelve different tensions all break like a wave over: he's on so many drugs

And he actually cracks a smile for the first time]

Hah... don't think too hard.

[Darc probably thinks Shiro is on so many drugs. Shiro can't believe Darc has such a good impression of him despite him just. Showing up. A naked political time bomb endangering his people, still getting tripped up by memories he doesn't even want. Attached to an alien arm he knows nothing about. Frustrated and feeling sorry for himself despite the fact that he's alive and, Zarkon's dead and he's on so many drugs.]

Sorry. I'm pretty sure I'm like this sober, too.

[welcome to deimos we get startled and confused when introductions don't involve murder attempts and dehumanizing mudslinging]

I'll find out, won't I. But you're right, all the coalept froth in the world doesn't completely change someone.

[Darc stands up, stiff and grunting. He steps around Shrio, more a slowly circling animal's body language than a man. A low, considering rumble in his chest.]

No one's ever asked for my name like that so quickly. Like it's just a given that I have one.

[Shiro doesn't tense. He doesn't know what Darc's doing, by the stillness in his body is only attentiveness. His gaze follows Darc until he's behind him, and then he doesn't attempt to turn.

He's also really impressed by the power in that noise. Is that why darc's voice is so deep?]

... Nobody can turn someone in to a thing. Not even if they rule the world. Or the universe,

[Darc is just looking at him, honestly. Taking him in again. It's strange to see a human in Deimos clothing. He wonders if his spoiled half-brother would look half as good, if rejected Deimos blood would compare at all to Shiro's scars.

Of course, that may be his half-blood talking. He hasn't seen a human in weeks, and he's been surrounded by fur and scales and horns - someone with so much bare skin is startling. He can imagine what his subjects were excited about cheering him up with, as if Darc is going to be more attracted to humans, being so human-like himself.

Darc blushes, supposing he's already one for one as far as his subjects are concerned, narrowing his mouth as he finishes circling Shiro. Maybe two for two. As if full-blooded deimos wouldn't be sniffing at Shiro themselves, like they were fawning all over Lilia. Idiots.

It takes him a moment to let Shiro's words sink in and pull him back to the dazed look Shiro's giving him. He sighs out.]

Well. We're proof of that, I suppose.

[Shiro meets his eyes 100% drugged sincerity.]

We are, King Darc.

. . .

[d-ducks gaze]

Just Darc is fine! I'm not your king.

[Shiro smiles at him, pleased.]

I didn't want to be rude.

Smart, but you won't be punished.

[Shiro smothers a laugh. It's not really funny. They'd probably both been punished for something like that, before.]

I didn't think I would be. But thanks, Darc.

[/HAS DEFINITELY PUNISHED SOME PARTIES FOR NOT ADDRESSING HIM PROPERLY, it's cathartic ok

Darc looks over the market, at the sun as it disappears. Wishes he was high right now. Maybe he'd go inhale something once he was alone.]

For calling me young, you don't seem so much older than me.