A pair they were, Darius started to clean at the knife in his pocket; a well-hidden manner of fidgeting, really. He doesn’t like being read, much less by Draven of all people. Mostly because he’s usually right. A fine swipe of his thumb, he removes a stray grey hair from the blade’s edge. There wasn’t a shred of mourning, not anymore. That ache had dulled, & in time, his first love had withered from within his heart. & yet, still, he feels.. dull. Unsharpened, unused. Darius turned the knife, spinning slowly from front & back. Her defeat made her soft.
Noxians; ever mortal, Quilletta was a prime example. Even with her decade of service, she was still gentle, too gentle. She thought of mercy where there should be none. She wasn’t built for War, that’s what Darius told himself many times. “ . . . We give Noxus our lives & our blood, then feed it to our children. “ The grim reality was that their lives are blood & fire. While Darius could understand that the old general’s methods, chemical warfare, was. . . indecent. Results were still results. It wasn’t Invicta that killed Quilleta, “ It was her misplaced sense of mercy ended her life. “
A moment of nothing passed. There were words, they had meaning, he’s trying to find them so he could give voice to them. In that search, he finds weakness. “ You remember her son? ” Another wipe of his cloth; the blade is perfect.
The younger of the two snorts when he’s told to shut his trap, eyes rolling before he shakes his head and looks away from his brother, brows knitting together as he thinks of what to say next on the topic. Most of what Darius says goes through one ear and out the other, and while Darius can sure put on a show that he doesn’t miss her still, Draven assumed the opposite.
Quilletta made Darius soft. He could deny it all he wanted but Draven believed it. Whatever, it wasn’t really the time to add salt in the wound unless he wanted that knife in his eye socket. Yeesh. “Yeah yeah yeah. Blah blah blah Noxus. Blah blah blah blood. I get it, you’ve said it all before.”
As the moment of nothing passes, the silence feels eerie. Draven goes to say something, though he paused as Darius asked the question about her son. A brow raised in slight confusion, the brunette rubbing a hand through his hair. For someone who didn’t miss her, he sure was talking about her and her family far too much in this short conversation. It makes him snicker slightly to himself before answering,
“Shit, yeah—what was his name? Decius? Yeah, I remember. What about him?”
DARIUS. * — “ I’ll hit you. “
Geeze, so on edge? No, this was their regular. Draven was always three syllables from getting struck with a CRIPPLING BLOW to the neck. His mind, however, could not hold the thought of throwing the knife at his balls right now. No, he was.. preoccupied. The thoughts swirl in his head, he flips the knife, catching it up side down before letting it slide down back into the sheith.
“ Yes, Decius. “ He prefered Tiberius, but Quilletta preferred soft-spoken names, a shame. “ The northerners put his head on a spike & sent it back to her. “ Draven already knows this. More so, Darius already knew this. Why is he “ I unearthed his corpse. “ shlp. A cut. He cut himself. The distraction was great, he’s allowed a wandering blade to break skin? He was out of it, not a single doubt.
No doubt Draven was disappointed. They weren’t petty grave robbers, while exhuming a loved-one isn’t quite beyond Darius, there was.. hesitation? A moment of doubt? No. All he had done, he’s done with complete, knowing-intent. “ The cold destroyed the facial patterns, but destroyed the gums. His teeth was smashed in, someone said. “ Ugh, gorey details? Before lunch? “ I’m not surprised they desecrated the corpse, but why were there no teeth? ” He’s quiet again. It’s like he’s trying to gather the words, tie a noose at their throat & drag them out by force. “ Then I found one. Lodged, in the back of the throat. Only it wasn’t a human tooth. “ …What is he getting at? “ It burned white when I put it against flame it’s a shapeshifter’s tooth. “ Darius returned his gaze to Draven, who no doubt put the pieces together already.
“ He’s alive. “ ….& so? The boy lives, what of it? A deserter in the North, hardly worth the
“ He’s my son. “ oh fuck.
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