Darin Altway (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
forgeabettertomorrow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-08-05 02:07 am
forgeabettertomorrow) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-08-05 02:07 am
Entry tags:
If You Listen Close, You'll Hear the Sound / of All the Ghosts That Bring Us Down
Who: Darin, Open to Close and Semi-Close CR!
When: This week
Where: Kauto: Region 5 Hospital
What: Darin's been comatose since his bout with his shadow and it's time to wake him up with SCIENCE
Warnings: Probable blood and physical trauma
While his condition has stabilized since the shadows were officially defeated, Darin definitely isn't in the best of shape. His wounds are taking much longer to heal than they normally should, his skin is pale, and he's showing no signs of any real mental activity. In short: he's comatose. But, there's a glimmer of light in this dark cloud. Using experimental technology, someone (or a group of someones) can reach into Darin's consciousness and maybe try and pull him out of it. The problem? This might not work at all. Or things could go from bad to worse for everyone involved.
What's the worst that could happen?
I-The Hallway-
Interestingly enough, Darin's head isn't just a massive void of empty space peppered with memories of some really great explosions. Nor is it a palace with massive golden statues proclaiming just how amazing he is. It's just...a really long hallway. Each door is unmarked and unlocked, but if you put your ears to them, you can hear muffled voices coming from within. The hallway doesn't seem to have an end though. Pick a door, who knows what you'll find?
II-The Night It All Went to Hell-
One of the doors leads to a rather quaint hillock overlooking a quiet port town. It's dark out, but there's plenty of light from the spattering of stars and the twin moons; red and white respectively, giving the scenery and almost ethereal violet hue. There's a modest home on the hillock itself...which seems to be the source of some commotion. There's the sound of a fight, then some yelling. And then, finally, the spark of a fire being started...
III-Life Goes On-
This door leads to a bustling street in the port town itself. At the end of the street is a rather large smithy, and there appears to be a full garrison of knights standing about the premises, waiting impatiently. The sea are brings the fresh smell of salt on the breeze, and some of the knights are complaining to an older, stout looking gentleman about the rust on their gear. Meanwhile, a beleaguered, blue haired youth, no more than ten years old, is doing his best to measure up an impatient knight for some new armor. Except he's gone and tripped himself up with the measuring tape and fallen into one of the large barrels of water, sending a mixture of laughs and groans rippling through the platoon.
"Why do you even keep this kid around, Acteon?! He's more trouble than he's worth!"
IV-Something's Not Quite Right-
This door leads to an even larger marketplace...not just a port side town anymore. No, this is a huge bazaar in some forgotten nation's capital. There's stalls selling any kind of wares you can imagine: exotic fruits and spices, weapons and armor, fine silks and furs, if you can dream it, it's likely being sold here! Some well armored and equally armed guards push by you quickly though and head towards what seems to be a throng of people circling up. Follow them and you'll see a large man looming over that stout smithy from the previous door, who is in turn standing in front of a gangly-armed, teenage Darin.
"What's all this about?"
"Your brat! He comes up to my stall and he...he breaks my weapons right in front of my paying customers!"
"Look, I was just showing these fine folk what inferior gear looks li--" Darin is cut off by the larger weaponsmith.
"MY GEAR IS THE BEST IN THIS REALM!! ACTEON, EITHER REEL YOUR FREAK IN, OR I'LL HAVE HIM IN CHAINS!"
Darin's smug look turns enraged, and he's already jumping over Acteon to try and throttle the man.
"WHAT'D YOU CALL ME YOU SECOND-RATE--"
The guards are already dogpiling on Darin which...doesn't necessarily slow him down. He pushes through them, and instead of attacking, just turns and runs for the nearest alleyway.
V-Chain of Command-
This door leads to...almost nothing, really. In fact, all that can be seen in this low light is what appears to be a massive steel gate. The bars reach up seemingly forever, and beyond the gate, there is nothing but blackness. The doors to the gate are pushed open slightly, but they're not fully open yet. Something appears to be keeping the doors themselves from being forced ajar completely. That something is Darin, hanging and covered in hundreds of chains, all of which are wrapped around the many massive iron bars. He appears to be hanging limp, but upon closer inspection, his arms are pulled taut, the muscles flexed and tight. As if, though unconscious, he's fighting to keep the iron gates shut.
-WILDCARD-
Want to do something else? Hit me up!
When: This week
Where: Kauto: Region 5 Hospital
What: Darin's been comatose since his bout with his shadow and it's time to wake him up with SCIENCE
Warnings: Probable blood and physical trauma
While his condition has stabilized since the shadows were officially defeated, Darin definitely isn't in the best of shape. His wounds are taking much longer to heal than they normally should, his skin is pale, and he's showing no signs of any real mental activity. In short: he's comatose. But, there's a glimmer of light in this dark cloud. Using experimental technology, someone (or a group of someones) can reach into Darin's consciousness and maybe try and pull him out of it. The problem? This might not work at all. Or things could go from bad to worse for everyone involved.
What's the worst that could happen?
I-The Hallway-
Interestingly enough, Darin's head isn't just a massive void of empty space peppered with memories of some really great explosions. Nor is it a palace with massive golden statues proclaiming just how amazing he is. It's just...a really long hallway. Each door is unmarked and unlocked, but if you put your ears to them, you can hear muffled voices coming from within. The hallway doesn't seem to have an end though. Pick a door, who knows what you'll find?
II-The Night It All Went to Hell-
One of the doors leads to a rather quaint hillock overlooking a quiet port town. It's dark out, but there's plenty of light from the spattering of stars and the twin moons; red and white respectively, giving the scenery and almost ethereal violet hue. There's a modest home on the hillock itself...which seems to be the source of some commotion. There's the sound of a fight, then some yelling. And then, finally, the spark of a fire being started...
III-Life Goes On-
This door leads to a bustling street in the port town itself. At the end of the street is a rather large smithy, and there appears to be a full garrison of knights standing about the premises, waiting impatiently. The sea are brings the fresh smell of salt on the breeze, and some of the knights are complaining to an older, stout looking gentleman about the rust on their gear. Meanwhile, a beleaguered, blue haired youth, no more than ten years old, is doing his best to measure up an impatient knight for some new armor. Except he's gone and tripped himself up with the measuring tape and fallen into one of the large barrels of water, sending a mixture of laughs and groans rippling through the platoon.
"Why do you even keep this kid around, Acteon?! He's more trouble than he's worth!"
IV-Something's Not Quite Right-
This door leads to an even larger marketplace...not just a port side town anymore. No, this is a huge bazaar in some forgotten nation's capital. There's stalls selling any kind of wares you can imagine: exotic fruits and spices, weapons and armor, fine silks and furs, if you can dream it, it's likely being sold here! Some well armored and equally armed guards push by you quickly though and head towards what seems to be a throng of people circling up. Follow them and you'll see a large man looming over that stout smithy from the previous door, who is in turn standing in front of a gangly-armed, teenage Darin.
"What's all this about?"
"Your brat! He comes up to my stall and he...he breaks my weapons right in front of my paying customers!"
"Look, I was just showing these fine folk what inferior gear looks li--" Darin is cut off by the larger weaponsmith.
"MY GEAR IS THE BEST IN THIS REALM!! ACTEON, EITHER REEL YOUR FREAK IN, OR I'LL HAVE HIM IN CHAINS!"
Darin's smug look turns enraged, and he's already jumping over Acteon to try and throttle the man.
"WHAT'D YOU CALL ME YOU SECOND-RATE--"
The guards are already dogpiling on Darin which...doesn't necessarily slow him down. He pushes through them, and instead of attacking, just turns and runs for the nearest alleyway.
V-Chain of Command-
This door leads to...almost nothing, really. In fact, all that can be seen in this low light is what appears to be a massive steel gate. The bars reach up seemingly forever, and beyond the gate, there is nothing but blackness. The doors to the gate are pushed open slightly, but they're not fully open yet. Something appears to be keeping the doors themselves from being forced ajar completely. That something is Darin, hanging and covered in hundreds of chains, all of which are wrapped around the many massive iron bars. He appears to be hanging limp, but upon closer inspection, his arms are pulled taut, the muscles flexed and tight. As if, though unconscious, he's fighting to keep the iron gates shut.
-WILDCARD-
Want to do something else? Hit me up!
no subject
He says it with a cocky grin, his usual staple.
"This...is actually first time I've ever danced with anyone. I'm sure you've danced with countless noblemen though."
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Her expression shifts, as if it just occurred to her that she goaded him into it.
"... as you can see, I'm out of practice."
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He's starting to become incredibly aware of the fact that he's holding her rather close and he's doing his damndest to not tense up. He stumbles a bit and inadvertently pulls her against his chest.
"Ah...um. I'm...sorry. Are...you okay?"
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Getting pulled in close is one thing. Getting pulled in by someone who can easily knock the wind out of you by accident is another. It takes her a moment to recover, but --
"-- y-- yes, I'm fine. Did you trip on something?"
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He quickly (but gently) grips her shoulders and scoots her out to arm's length, very obviously bright red and turning away to look at the ceiling.
Mayhaps the good Sir Altway is a little more shy than Allura realizes.
no subject
Now he's starting to resemble what she expected from this. Knowing how to move your feet is really only half of dancing. It also takes people skills, being able to touch and talk in those same light, easy, practiced motions. And while Darin can talk, Allura is probably the most familiar with how his talk can push people away; she can see how he's struggling, his motor skills slipping away from him.
It feels mean to point it out, though. He knows. And she'd have to backtrack on her own praise.
"Must just be the lack of music. After all, you were watching, but also listening, weren't you? Once you've actually done it enough, though, you can get a feel for how the tempo would go. Just like... one, two, three -- one, two, three --"
As she counts, she looks down at their feet, an indicator for him to do the same. And shows how the steps match in time.
no subject
He lowers his head slightly, bashfully. Finally, he just out and says it.
"I'm sure someone like you can find a more suitable dance partner. Anyone would probably be a better partner than me. I mean...I'm just..."
He fumbles, looking for a way to explain it. She's this beautiful princess. If they were ever at a ball together (good luck getting Darin to go to one) he's sure guys would be tripping over themselves to dance with her. And here he is, some schmuck half-dressed in a hospital room holding her by the waist and the hand (and for some reason it's making his heart pound like a piston?) trying to prove that he can be counted among a group of people he used to go out of his way to showcase how little he wanted to do with them.
Suddenly, for the first time in his life, he found himself hating classism for an entirely new (and barely understood) reason.
"I'm just..."
He can't find the words. He's just what? He's clumsy and awkward? Easily goaded and riled? Loud and prone to explosions? Proud and self-loathing at the same time?
"...Me."
no subject
It's a strange sort of smile that's on her face. It's still warm, despite being full of a sad sentiment. Not pity, exactly. More of a wish that things could be different for him, that he could see things from the other side and put those kinds of concerns into a new perspective.
"And really, now. 'Suitable'? You're the one who always tells me I need to stop being the Princess once in a while."
She turns her head a bit, looking off at the space over his shoulder. "That's one of the worst things about those balls, anyway. Everyone is trying so hard to be presentable, and in the end it all comes across as stiff, fake -- it's a hundred people in a room, judging each other and trying to one-up the rest." And then she looks to him, as if returning to the present. "Dancing might be better if we were all allowed a few stubbed toes."
no subject
"Or..."
Without much warning, he feels her in again, then gives her a quick spin in place before gently bumping his hip to hers, no doubt setting her bouncing a pace or two away. He plants his hands firmly on his hips.
"I teach you how to dance like us lowly peasant folk can."
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"You-- you bumped me!" She sounds so betrayed.
no subject
He holds his arms out to either side in challenge.
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Unfortunately, Darin is an unmovable object, so this backfires and she ends up stumbling again.
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"Come on, Princess! Swing those hips! You gotta really throw yourself at me!"
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He slides up to her and gently bumps her again, then follows it with a wink.
"Now I've got your attention. It's the peasant way of saying 'I think you're pretty, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?'"
no subject
She raises a hand, the way she would normally expect to do for ballroom dancing. "Shall we begin, then?"
no subject
He says that with a very amused look on his face, but he takes her hand very gently, lowers his head to it in a bow, then pulls her in so his hand is once again on the small of her back.
"Do you want to lead this time?"
no subject
Which says a lot about how they ended up going from fighting to goofing off.
"I'll do it, but if it's different than before, you'll have to tell me the steps."
no subject
He lets her start, closing his eyes so that he can picture and hear the rhythm and steps in his mind. He keeps up rather well too. But it looks like there's more on his mind than just the steps and the rhythm.
Finally, he sighs softly before leaning in and to the side a little, towards her ear.
"...Thank you. For...coming after me."
He pulls away, his cheeks a deep red and he tries not to look at her directly.
no subject
On the other hand, he probably doesn't want to hear that. And it feels nice to be appreciated.
"... you're very welcome. And I'm glad you're safe."