Zuko · 蘇科 (
flammatory) wrote in
barrayar2017-01-16 04:47 pm
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idk I guess I still play this dumb asshole
Tag me or something. Let me know if you have a preference for canon point (I usually default to post-show with some comics inspo). Also feel free to comment blank and I'll make a prompt.
no subject
In the present moment, he struggles to parse and accept the reality of Valdemar. "Don't worry, I'm used to drawing attention," he answers flatly, folding his arms. "Not like I can hide who I am with this scar." The Crown Prince, now an infamous traitor, having a giant burn scar on his face is certainly both memorable and identifiable even to those who've never met him.
Some of his floundering uncertainty becomes obvious, Zuko terrible as always at hiding his feelings. "... We can go to the temple if we want?" That seems obvious from the window, but Zuko is having a hard time figuring out what he has to let go of about Karse and what he can keep. He's never been an especially religious person, but the royal family, of course, knows every ritual and ceremony backwards and forwards and frequently has their own unique place in them. There's a comfort in that familiarity, and in knowing the rules.
Zuko slowly meanders over to a chair not next to Alberich and tentatively sits.
no subject
Alberich considers the prince's scar. It's true that even with expert makeup, Zuko's only chance to escape notice would be with a hood, very poor lighting, and luck (Alberich himself still can't manage to fully hide his scars in sunlight). But then, he suspects part of why the prince was Chosen was to be visible.
:I couldn't comment on that.: Kantor says, his mental voice the equivalent of an innocent whistle.
"Not yet. It will be some time before you can leave the Palace grounds." The distrust of some and the look of things still has weight. "But in time. And the priests may always visit us here."
how the fuck does mlackey manage convo vs. companion
It's going to be a lot of new experiences here, that's for sure.
"It doesn't matter," he replies, looking aside, inadvertently embodying a sullen teenager despite his very real reasons to feel morose and bitter. Zuko at least sounds subdued, hands gripping the cloth of his gray trainee pants. He still thinks they should be red; he's not hiding. "I know they didn't have to let me be here. I'm supposed to be a Herald-Trainee. What do I need to do?"
His language is more revealing than he intends: supposed to be. Zuko is still skeptical he won't be tossed out on his ear if he takes a single step out of line.
:You think that because your dad is a total dick. It won't be like that. I Chose you - they can't kick you out!:
:There's a first time for everything, and I'm really good at finding ways to fail.:
:I'm still not saying it'll happen, but you know I'd go with you, right? If you had to leave?:
Zuko, distracted in this conversation, stares down at his knees and lets his intense upswelling of gratitude answer for him. There aren't really words for how that makes him feel, anyway.