[Being reminded of that Legislacerator and her big mouth has Darkleer tensing up and his eyes narrow behind his shades. A part of him wishes he could say she had no right to speak such things, but... that's not true. He lost all rights he had to defend his honor- although he hardly has such a thing now despite what he clings to- when he lowered his bow against a rebel.]
[He is scum of the lowest kind who should prostrate himself before those who decided to grant him mercy by letting him retain his life... even if this is turning out to be a far worse punishment.]
[...It hurts a little to know he must tell these two that.]
[Very weary and now free of clinging wrigglers, Darkleer leans forward with his elbows upon his knees. Head bowed.]
That is what 'Expatriate' means. Yes. [He's honestly not being snappish or snarky. Just... so tired.]
She was someone it should have been easy to cull. This was all during a rebellion- or at least nearing the end of it, by then. My arrows had already found more rebels than I can remember.
[Another pause, and he links his fingers together so that he has something to grip.]
...Including the leader of that rebellion. A troll with mutated red blood.
As Executor, that was my duty. My purpose.
And she was next- his closest follower, his matesprit. It should have been as simple as the most basic of math.
...But I let her go. Not even a shallow wound.
Somehow, I was fortunate enough that my disgrace and disloyalty- [The word sounds like a curse coming from his lips.] did not ensure my culling. Somehow.
[He wants to almost apologize for not being what they thought he was, a better troll surely, but he's not sure how to say it.]
no subject
Date: 2011-12-03 04:23 am (UTC)[He is scum of the lowest kind who should prostrate himself before those who decided to grant him mercy by letting him retain his life... even if this is turning out to be a far worse punishment.]
[...It hurts a little to know he must tell these two that.]
[Very weary and now free of clinging wrigglers, Darkleer leans forward with his elbows upon his knees. Head bowed.]
That is what 'Expatriate' means. Yes. [He's honestly not being snappish or snarky. Just... so tired.]
She was someone it should have been easy to cull. This was all during a rebellion- or at least nearing the end of it, by then. My arrows had already found more rebels than I can remember.
[Another pause, and he links his fingers together so that he has something to grip.]
...Including the leader of that rebellion. A troll with mutated red blood.
As Executor, that was my duty. My purpose.
And she was next- his closest follower, his matesprit. It should have been as simple as the most basic of math.
...But I let her go. Not even a shallow wound.
Somehow, I was fortunate enough that my disgrace and disloyalty- [The word sounds like a curse coming from his lips.] did not ensure my culling. Somehow.
[He wants to almost apologize for not being what they thought he was, a better troll surely, but he's not sure how to say it.]