General Kirigan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cruelyethuman) wrote2010-06-03 08:18 pm
cruelyethuman) wrote2010-06-03 08:18 pm
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( rhysand has been through the ringer, training people to keep their mental shields up before. it's always the same formula — giving a task to thoroughly distract them, and insisting they push up those shields after every completion, until keeping them up and moving them is all instinct, as easy as breathing.
whether the darkling brings his own work is up to him. if not — rhysand will have him copying down lines ( 'rhysand is the most handsome shadow summoner' and 'rhysand is the best brother in the world' and — in the likely event the darkling will not copy such content, a ti'shaaz book on psychology, "your inner demons: a battle with psyche" ), interrupting his flow with a swift dive of claws into his mind. it requires creative, interesting solutions — it's not all going to come together in one day. but rhys can see progress, enough that he clears his throat before they cover too much ground in one night.
after all, he doesn't want their deal to come to a close so soon. he has things to learn. )
That's enough, my darling Kiri. ( where rhys had been sat across from him, effortlessly balancing a crystal glass on it's side, he lays it flat, lifting his brows in the darkling's direction. ) We'll stop there. Ah, but it's time for my question, isn't it? Hm, hm. Let's see.
( after thinking of it for all of a moment, )
I have it — my charming wolf of a brother, my brilliant moonbeam, tell me. What is your favorite color? No saying black, now. That's boring.
whether the darkling brings his own work is up to him. if not — rhysand will have him copying down lines ( 'rhysand is the most handsome shadow summoner' and 'rhysand is the best brother in the world' and — in the likely event the darkling will not copy such content, a ti'shaaz book on psychology, "your inner demons: a battle with psyche" ), interrupting his flow with a swift dive of claws into his mind. it requires creative, interesting solutions — it's not all going to come together in one day. but rhys can see progress, enough that he clears his throat before they cover too much ground in one night.
after all, he doesn't want their deal to come to a close so soon. he has things to learn. )
That's enough, my darling Kiri. ( where rhys had been sat across from him, effortlessly balancing a crystal glass on it's side, he lays it flat, lifting his brows in the darkling's direction. ) We'll stop there. Ah, but it's time for my question, isn't it? Hm, hm. Let's see.
( after thinking of it for all of a moment, )
I have it — my charming wolf of a brother, my brilliant moonbeam, tell me. What is your favorite color? No saying black, now. That's boring.
[The Darkling will do the lines, face impassive and shoulders relaxed.
It's an act and this childishness annoys him far more than he's willing to show. This shadow summoner from a distant world, who is rarely without Alina by his side and the burn that flashes through the Darkling with every sighting, is new and wholly unwelcome.
So, he does his lines, pen steady on the paper as the claws peel at the flimsy walls he's managed to throw up. By the end, the darkness that he imagines swirling inside in his mind, is a fraction less wispy than wood smoke and Rhysand's face is swimming before his eyes from across the table.
Rhysand makes this look easy, the smile on his face never wavering and the friendly advice when the Darkling slips up, sounds almost... genuine.]
Kirigan. [He corrects, as he places the pen down on the table, hands folding in front of him, ignoring how sweat slides down his back from the strain of trying to fight Rhysand off.
There's something unsettling about Rhysand. How friendly he is, how willing he is to teach and to probe gently when his mental claws could tear through the meager protection the Darkling has managed to build in the blink of an eye.]
I don't have a favorite color.
[It would be too easy to mention any one color just to satisfy Rhysand's stipulations, but he doesn't want to lie. Not when blocking out people like Rhysand is a skill to be mastered and this is his only way to learn.
There is no color that strikes him as prettier than the rest when he looks around in the world. It's the sunlight glinting off of the red rooftops in Shu Han, it's the deep green of pine trees near the Fjerdan border. It's the deep blue of the True Sea and the chocolate-brown with flicks of gold of Alina's eyes. It's every color as long as it's bathed in sunlight.
It's all the colors you cannot see in the dark.]
Are we done?
It's an act and this childishness annoys him far more than he's willing to show. This shadow summoner from a distant world, who is rarely without Alina by his side and the burn that flashes through the Darkling with every sighting, is new and wholly unwelcome.
So, he does his lines, pen steady on the paper as the claws peel at the flimsy walls he's managed to throw up. By the end, the darkness that he imagines swirling inside in his mind, is a fraction less wispy than wood smoke and Rhysand's face is swimming before his eyes from across the table.
Rhysand makes this look easy, the smile on his face never wavering and the friendly advice when the Darkling slips up, sounds almost... genuine.]
Kirigan. [He corrects, as he places the pen down on the table, hands folding in front of him, ignoring how sweat slides down his back from the strain of trying to fight Rhysand off.
There's something unsettling about Rhysand. How friendly he is, how willing he is to teach and to probe gently when his mental claws could tear through the meager protection the Darkling has managed to build in the blink of an eye.]
I don't have a favorite color.
[It would be too easy to mention any one color just to satisfy Rhysand's stipulations, but he doesn't want to lie. Not when blocking out people like Rhysand is a skill to be mastered and this is his only way to learn.
There is no color that strikes him as prettier than the rest when he looks around in the world. It's the sunlight glinting off of the red rooftops in Shu Han, it's the deep green of pine trees near the Fjerdan border. It's the deep blue of the True Sea and the chocolate-brown with flicks of gold of Alina's eyes. It's every color as long as it's bathed in sunlight.
It's all the colors you cannot see in the dark.]
Are we done?
Continued from here
[Laughing when he pulls her in close to him, Daisy smiles up at him before she's distracted by the sudden darkness surrounding them. She can just barely make him out now.]
Sneaky.
[Daisy teases as she leans up to kiss him again, wrapping her arms around him, she tries to gently direct him until he's pressed against the wall.]
[Laughing when he pulls her in close to him, Daisy smiles up at him before she's distracted by the sudden darkness surrounding them. She can just barely make him out now.]
Sneaky.
[Daisy teases as she leans up to kiss him again, wrapping her arms around him, she tries to gently direct him until he's pressed against the wall.]
[The shadows follow, cocooning them from the rest of the station as he allows her to push him against the wall. The cool surface, easily forgotten in the heat of Daisy's mouth.]
Of course.
[Before the words are lost in the kisses, to her mouth and down the collum of her throat to press his tongue against the pulse fluttering there. Restless, breathless kisses to get lost in, as her body rests against his own.]
My room is just up ahead.
[The Darkling grabs her hand this time, fingers lacing together as he heads towards his shared room.]
Of course.
[Before the words are lost in the kisses, to her mouth and down the collum of her throat to press his tongue against the pulse fluttering there. Restless, breathless kisses to get lost in, as her body rests against his own.]
My room is just up ahead.
[The Darkling grabs her hand this time, fingers lacing together as he heads towards his shared room.]
[It takes Daisy a while to actually type out an actual sentence, but eventually she manages:]
where are you?
Are you ok?
[If her dream hadn’t exactly been a dream, then she must’ve actually visited Kirigan in his, and if she managed to visit his dreams…
Her stomach is in her throat with worry that he might still be passed out somewhere.]
where are you?
Are you ok?
[If her dream hadn’t exactly been a dream, then she must’ve actually visited Kirigan in his, and if she managed to visit his dreams…
Her stomach is in her throat with worry that he might still be passed out somewhere.]
I will be available at 8, meet me in my room.
hey
you awake?
you awake?
[ Just a random text shot out in the early morning, nbd. ]
If you're awake, would you like a quick sparring match?
[ He also kinda wants to check on him after the mission, maybe talk about what happened before the mission, but eh. He hasn't really seen Kirigan in a while. He mostly just wants to hang out. ]
If you're awake, would you like a quick sparring match?
[ He also kinda wants to check on him after the mission, maybe talk about what happened before the mission, but eh. He hasn't really seen Kirigan in a while. He mostly just wants to hang out. ]
[The reply comes half an hour later.]
I would love to. Meet me in the training room.
I would love to. Meet me in the training room.
[Happy holidays! Kirigan receives some adventure stories. Mostly about heroes going off on epic quests and saving a damsel in distress]
I'm not sure if you'll like these or not. Definitely better than a zombie movie, though. ~ Kaidan
I'm not sure if you'll like these or not. Definitely better than a zombie movie, though. ~ Kaidan
[On the evening of the 24th, Clara leaves a wrapped gift for him outside his room. She's sure to put his name on the tag so Kovacs won't be an asshole and take it. Inside the box are only two things. A drawing of a raven made of shadows, its wings spread as it spreads darkness and shadows across the page. She had drawn it as cheap therapy for herself, but it reminds her of him because of his shadows. There's a dark stone on top. One that's easily able to fit in the palm of someone's hands, or perhaps a pocket. It's smooth all over, but indented on one side, in the shape of what might be a thumbprint.
There's a note at the bottom of the box that reads:
Kirigan,
I hope you don't mind a drawing of shadows. It came to me one night and I thought of you after I saw it on the page. Don't feel like you need to hang it up or keep it. I also won't be offended if you toss out the stone. I picked it up during our mission in Braccia, to help keep me calm and focused when things felt like they were out of my control. Every time I thought control was slipping, I'd reach into my pocket and feel that touchstone. I brought it with me to the next mission too, and I thought that maybe it might help you on occasion. Though it likely makes a nice paperweight too.
Happy Christmas,
Clara ]
There's a note at the bottom of the box that reads:
Kirigan,
I hope you don't mind a drawing of shadows. It came to me one night and I thought of you after I saw it on the page. Don't feel like you need to hang it up or keep it. I also won't be offended if you toss out the stone. I picked it up during our mission in Braccia, to help keep me calm and focused when things felt like they were out of my control. Every time I thought control was slipping, I'd reach into my pocket and feel that touchstone. I brought it with me to the next mission too, and I thought that maybe it might help you on occasion. Though it likely makes a nice paperweight too.
Happy Christmas,
Clara ]
[ on christmas morning, aleksander will return to the unsubtle flash of yellow tissue paper, clumsily folded around a large canvas of a forest drowned in wintry snow — and beyond it, the glow of the sun shining through the trees. only — the sunlight seems to radiate off of the canvas and into the room, casting a ray onto the walls, imbued with the magic she had worked on in braccia. in the corner of the painting sits the tiny scrawl of her signature, with no other sign of her in the room aside from the subtle smell of peaches.
less grand is the bottle of aftershave tucked away in a box beside it, scented with wintry mint and pine trees — a scent that had reminded her not only of him, but ravka's long, foresty nights. ]
Aleksander,
They had me creating and trading magical art in Braccia, new as I was to painting anything. This is the first one I ever tried my hand at, and ... Honestly, I'm not even sure if it's good, but I was proud to have made it at all. Taking my chance to make something beautiful, instead of being so afraid of failure that it kept me from trying.
It felt like something that was finally mine. Something I made all on my own. Now, it's yours. You don't have to hang it up if it's terrible, or if you don't want to keep it. I just wanted you to have it.
— Alina
[ there's a suspicious amount of the note that seems to have been crossed off, beneath her name on the page — two paragraphs clumsily scratched out with ink and made unreadable to his eyes. ]
less grand is the bottle of aftershave tucked away in a box beside it, scented with wintry mint and pine trees — a scent that had reminded her not only of him, but ravka's long, foresty nights. ]
Aleksander,
They had me creating and trading magical art in Braccia, new as I was to painting anything. This is the first one I ever tried my hand at, and ... Honestly, I'm not even sure if it's good, but I was proud to have made it at all. Taking my chance to make something beautiful, instead of being so afraid of failure that it kept me from trying.
It felt like something that was finally mine. Something I made all on my own. Now, it's yours. You don't have to hang it up if it's terrible, or if you don't want to keep it. I just wanted you to have it.
— Alina
[ there's a suspicious amount of the note that seems to have been crossed off, beneath her name on the page — two paragraphs clumsily scratched out with ink and made unreadable to his eyes. ]
[ unfortunately for aleksander, the text rushes in during the silence just before dawn, when the world balances on the edge of dreaming and waking. as though she's stayed up all night, with the thought, as she has for many nights this month — which isn't far from the truth.
only, this time, she finds the reckless boldness to address it outside of her own mind — or perhaps just the reckless stupidity to do so, more accurately. ]
do you really hate me that much?
only, this time, she finds the reckless boldness to address it outside of her own mind — or perhaps just the reckless stupidity to do so, more accurately. ]
do you really hate me that much?
I couldn't hate you even if I tried.
[Late night honesty, as he blinks awake to the message ticking in to the network.]
[Late night honesty, as he blinks awake to the message ticking in to the network.]
[At some point on Christmas Eve Yelena leaves a gift at Kirigan's door marked To: Greg Kirigan. In his nicely wrapped box he will find a copy of War and Peace and a small tin of chocolate sardines. The tin opens just like an old fashioned tin of real sardines.
There's also a note that reads: The book is a famous work of Russian literature. I thought you might find it interesting.
There's no signature, but honestly who else calls him Greg Kirigan.]
There's also a note that reads: The book is a famous work of Russian literature. I thought you might find it interesting.
There's no signature, but honestly who else calls him Greg Kirigan.]
Edited (lmao I just noticed I messed up the coding on one of the links don't look at me ) 2021-12-26 08:54 (UTC)
[ A colorfully wrapped package appears at Aleksander's door on Christmas Eve. Inside there's a pair of black jeans that will fit his long legs, a bag of Christmas tree brownies, and a card that reads "Merry Christmas, I'm glad we had the chance to get to know each other here" signed 'Star-lord' ]
( it's the 21st of december, when aleksander sees a large package left outside his door with a note that reads, "For us old men, keeping up with the times is invaluable. I won't be associated with someone lacking fashion sense. Happy Solstice, brother mine." and inside the surprisingly heavy box, there is a folded leather jacket and a couple cute enamel pins. )
[Reply might come hours later, in the middle of the night.]
I'm fine, Daisy. How are you faring in this strange place?
I'm fine, Daisy. How are you faring in this strange place?
I'm sorry, this is rather abrupt, but- I may have need of your help with something, if we're unable to recover the orb.
And what help might that be?
Edited 2022-01-16 10:31 (UTC)
[ About 5 minutes after Majima's announcement goes up, Peter sends a message. He can get it out fast enough. ]
Ey, ey, Aleksander! You were right. Majina confirmed that the snakes are edible.
[ And he sends a link to the text post as well. ]
It's one worry less, even if it's not a perfect solution. [ Peter isn't handling it well but he knows this is important information to share. ]
Ey, ey, Aleksander! You were right. Majina confirmed that the snakes are edible.
[ And he sends a link to the text post as well. ]
It's one worry less, even if it's not a perfect solution. [ Peter isn't handling it well but he knows this is important information to share. ]
Thank you, Peter. Because the perfect solution would bring us back to the station?
[ Everyone's been keeping busy since McCoy posted his intel to the network, Finn perhaps more so than many. He's been meditating every night for almost the entire night and using the Force to sustain himself, save his rations for others who need them more. He's been working with McCoy to test the Orbers and working with James to help with rations. But it's been difficult considering neither of them seem to like him very much at the moment.
He doesn't know what to do about that...
So when Finn's not working with them, he sticks to himself. Most of his evenings are filled with hunting, salting, cooking, and catching snakes for the Orbers. What he's doing tonight ties into that.
There are few people of their group that he even wants to talk to anymore, figuring that most of them will feel the same as James and McCoy did. Finn can't handle much more of that, but he doesn't think Kirigan would judge him so. They're not the same but they are kind of kindred. So he brings his horse to a stop a few paces from his tent with a batch of raw but cleaned snakes tied together by their tails.
He hops off. Hope you weren't asleep. ] Anyone home?
He doesn't know what to do about that...
So when Finn's not working with them, he sticks to himself. Most of his evenings are filled with hunting, salting, cooking, and catching snakes for the Orbers. What he's doing tonight ties into that.
There are few people of their group that he even wants to talk to anymore, figuring that most of them will feel the same as James and McCoy did. Finn can't handle much more of that, but he doesn't think Kirigan would judge him so. They're not the same but they are kind of kindred. So he brings his horse to a stop a few paces from his tent with a batch of raw but cleaned snakes tied together by their tails.
He hops off. Hope you weren't asleep. ] Anyone home?
[Dick isn't asleep, he isn't even in his tent, but sitting outside with his back against a dune on the far side of the small camp ground with his eyes closed against the pale light of the five moons, deep in thought.
He pokes his head up, swiveling it towards the sound of the horse and Finn's voice.]
I'm around here.
[Warmth and something else in his voice, as he eyes Finn and the handful snakes he brought with him.]
Looking for somewhere to cook those?
He pokes his head up, swiveling it towards the sound of the horse and Finn's voice.]
I'm around here.
[Warmth and something else in his voice, as he eyes Finn and the handful snakes he brought with him.]
Looking for somewhere to cook those?
[Daisy shows up at Aleksander's door without having texted him first. After finally crashing hard last night, Daisy feels about 2% better compared to yesterday. She's got a box of chocolate tucked under her arm and a bottle of wine. Her hair freshly dyed back to her natural dark brown, because while everything else was spiraling out of control, she at least had control over her hair.
Knocking on the door, Daisy realizes maybe texting him first might've been a better idea. Who knows if he's still sleeping, or even here.]
Knocking on the door, Daisy realizes maybe texting him first might've been a better idea. Who knows if he's still sleeping, or even here.]
[The room is smothered in darkness, the shadows almost solid around him as he sits on the narrow bed, staring without seeing, in to the dark. There's a white bandage wrapped around his torso and up around his left shoulder, as he pads shirtless to the door, opening it just a little.
Daisy.
Past the open door, is the room seems to be gone. The empty space between the stars pressing against the walls and coating the floor.]
Hello.
Daisy.
Past the open door, is the room seems to be gone. The empty space between the stars pressing against the walls and coating the floor.]
Hello.
You draw me a picture of a colony of bats.
[ Socializing again has been a steady process, not necessarily slow in the grand scheme of things, but it's taken time. He needed to rest and care for himself, clean up considerably after he crawled out of Sedorum looking nothing like himself. After all that, talking to people again, reinforcing connections, seems like the next logical step, although he's not necessarily looking for it as he sits in the mess hall with a chess set, moving pieces around slowly and thoughtfully, as though he's playing against an imaginary opponent, or simply himself.
He looks up when he spots someone approaching, eyebrows raising as he recognizes him. ]
Kirigan. Hi. What brings you here?
He looks up when he spots someone approaching, eyebrows raising as he recognizes him. ]
Kirigan. Hi. What brings you here?
[For once, he's not thinking three steps ahead, isn't plotting the best way to find his way in to the the locked wing or how to strike a deal with one of the orbs before it's too late.
He's carefully not thinking about anything, going through the motions of returning to the station, head empty and heart sinking, pressing his fingertips to the burns around his wrists. They're hidden again, safely kept to himself behind long sleeves and his black gloves, but he can feel them with every flick of his wrist as he enters the mess hall, heading for the cabinets.]
Food, mostly.
[Setting up a routine, and hadn't Jim mentioned something about that once upon a time? Before the true meaning of what they all agreed to do, dawned on him? Taking a seat opposite Jim, the Darkling blinks at the board.]
Do you know this game?
He's carefully not thinking about anything, going through the motions of returning to the station, head empty and heart sinking, pressing his fingertips to the burns around his wrists. They're hidden again, safely kept to himself behind long sleeves and his black gloves, but he can feel them with every flick of his wrist as he enters the mess hall, heading for the cabinets.]
Food, mostly.
[Setting up a routine, and hadn't Jim mentioned something about that once upon a time? Before the true meaning of what they all agreed to do, dawned on him? Taking a seat opposite Jim, the Darkling blinks at the board.]
Do you know this game?
help
[There's more she wants to tell him, wants to know if he's okay. But it's becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate enough to send all of that.
As much as she usually downplays her injuries, there's no downplaying this. She's been in a situation like this before, she remembers what it feels like when she's about to die.]
[There's more she wants to tell him, wants to know if he's okay. But it's becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate enough to send all of that.
As much as she usually downplays her injuries, there's no downplaying this. She's been in a situation like this before, she remembers what it feels like when she's about to die.]
Daisy?
[The sword he found is lost in the chaos, the only weapon he has left is the blaster Peter handed to him just as everything turned from bad to worse. The strange-looking thing that he barely knows how to use.]
[The sword he found is lost in the chaos, the only weapon he has left is the blaster Peter handed to him just as everything turned from bad to worse. The strange-looking thing that he barely knows how to use.]
[ Peter sends the text a few days after this conversation, when the mission is over and they are back at the station. ]
Maybe you were right about trusting people. It really isn't worth it sometimes.
Maybe you were right about trusting people. It really isn't worth it sometimes.
Hello Peter.
[There's a pause, as the Darkling stops in his tracks, mind turning to the network and Peter's words scrolling through his head.]
You are still here. That is- good.
[There's a pause, as the Darkling stops in his tracks, mind turning to the network and Peter's words scrolling through his head.]
You are still here. That is- good.
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