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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[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.

No, not much. I'm twenty-five, if that makes any sense to you.

Ah.

It does. Hah...

Though I couldn't tell you how old I am.

[Shiro looks at him very carefully, inventorying. Darc's a lot easier to pin down than, say, Allura.]

I'd say about twenty. That's a young adult, by most human standards.

[Darc gives him a coy little smile.]

Heh. That's my best guess, too.

[Shiro nearly gets a species of whiplash watching that almost sail over his head. He catches it, though. Bites the inside of his cheek to smother a grin, immensely flattered. He gives him another sweep, less assessing, more appreciative.]

And I'd be a slightly less young adult. So not much difference at all. It's incredible, how you keep the Deimos together. I can just barely handle the other Paladins.

[he looks a little surprised. Glances back out towards the market, which is packing up and swapping out for FEAST AND DANCE AND FIGHT PARTY]

Well, it's an... Attempt. Most Deimos cities have their own leaders, who answer to me. This place is meant to be a capitol, where any Deimos without a tribe can live. Deimos more willing to try new ways of life are here.

[he huffs.] I don't really know if it's so incredible yet.

[he looks back up at Shiro]

You're the leader, then? Of your peacekeepers.

It's a start.

[That was nice while it lasted. You're not sounding less incredible, Darc.]

In a sense, yeah. But I'd say I the responsibility gets shared around.

[Darc watches him, trying to digest everything Shiro has told him.]

How many of you are there? An army?

Five paladins, and then there's Pricness Allura and Coran and... Slav. That's the regular crew. ... [A sad, quiet look crosses his features, briefly. Thinking of Ulaz.] But there are a lot who have helped us.

[his eyes widen.]

How many people are up there?

As many as there are stars in the sky, multiplied by a hundred billion or so.