The question startles Flamebringer- He hadn't even heard this person approach over the sound of his own labored breathing- Crap that was unacceptable- he was practically offering himself up to be killed.
But he doesn't show any of that frustration on his face- Law will see his shoulders jump in surprise, but Flamebringer reigns in all his other emotions. He stills, unnaturally so, turning his head slowly to let one practically glowing orange eye flash between strands of hair.
The individual before him- Its no reflection. He saw no trace of himself in this person. And those phantoms weren't much for talking. But whoever this is, his eyes are on Flamebringer. The piercing gaze is picking him apart in some way, he can tell from years of similar looks.
The only think he couldn't piece together was why.
Slowly, he sits back up, pushing off his hands in a controlled manner, letting out a heavy exhale, his head turning steadily to face the stranger in front of him.
His bangs were a mess and hid parts of his face, but two fire-like pinpricks focused all their attention upon Law.
And then his body betrays him ever so slightly- Vertigo siezes him and he has to reach out his arm to steady himself against the mirror again- he doesn't entirely fall forward again, but its weakness he did not want to show this man.
He growls at himself internally, but outwardly his expression remains focused and cold.
What's wrong with him?
He finally processes the question, letting out a sarcastic snort. "Depends. Some people have interesting definitions of 'wrong'." There's a challenge in his expression, despite kneeling on the floor. His tail twitches slightly.
His possible opponent remains unflappable in his appearance. But Flamebringer can see the subtle posture of a fighter. Not a good sign. If this man wants pick a fight, he might actually be at a disadvantage.
Not might. Would. He'd deteriorated as much.
Flamebringer's ear twitches slightly and his head tilts, "Treatment? Do you have a death wish?" Its a challenge in two ways. He would be unsuprised if this man didn't know what he was asking to get himself into. The only person he'd met so far on this cursed ship who knew of Terra and Oripathy had been Angel face.
The other being whether or not this fool was willing to risk his neck approaching an individual giving all the danger signs of a wounded animal. Then again- Maybe Flamebringer would be the fool. His eyes narrow slightly, catching the victorian script on the man's knuckles.
"Maybe, explain first..." He has to pause to draw in a long breath of air, forcing himself to remain calm, in control, despite feeling how his hands were shaking and his chest struggled, "... Why is someone like you, so willing to approach someone like me, and act so graciously?"
If this man wasn't from Terra, he also wouldn't know the weight of him being a Sarkaz... all the same. A lack of cultural and racial biases didn't make him safe.
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Smash annoucer voice "TRAFALGAR LAW"-
Date: 2025-05-05 10:04 am (UTC)But he doesn't show any of that frustration on his face- Law will see his shoulders jump in surprise, but Flamebringer reigns in all his other emotions. He stills, unnaturally so, turning his head slowly to let one practically glowing orange eye flash between strands of hair.
The individual before him- Its no reflection. He saw no trace of himself in this person. And those phantoms weren't much for talking. But whoever this is, his eyes are on Flamebringer. The piercing gaze is picking him apart in some way, he can tell from years of similar looks.
The only think he couldn't piece together was why.
Slowly, he sits back up, pushing off his hands in a controlled manner, letting out a heavy exhale, his head turning steadily to face the stranger in front of him.
His bangs were a mess and hid parts of his face, but two fire-like pinpricks focused all their attention upon Law.
And then his body betrays him ever so slightly- Vertigo siezes him and he has to reach out his arm to steady himself against the mirror again- he doesn't entirely fall forward again, but its weakness he did not want to show this man.
He growls at himself internally, but outwardly his expression remains focused and cold.
What's wrong with him?
He finally processes the question, letting out a sarcastic snort. "Depends. Some people have interesting definitions of 'wrong'." There's a challenge in his expression, despite kneeling on the floor. His tail twitches slightly.
His possible opponent remains unflappable in his appearance. But Flamebringer can see the subtle posture of a fighter. Not a good sign. If this man wants pick a fight, he might actually be at a disadvantage.
Not might. Would. He'd deteriorated as much.
Flamebringer's ear twitches slightly and his head tilts, "Treatment? Do you have a death wish?" Its a challenge in two ways. He would be unsuprised if this man didn't know what he was asking to get himself into. The only person he'd met so far on this cursed ship who knew of Terra and Oripathy had been Angel face.
The other being whether or not this fool was willing to risk his neck approaching an individual giving all the danger signs of a wounded animal. Then again- Maybe Flamebringer would be the fool. His eyes narrow slightly, catching the victorian script on the man's knuckles.
"Maybe, explain first..." He has to pause to draw in a long breath of air, forcing himself to remain calm, in control, despite feeling how his hands were shaking and his chest struggled, "... Why is someone like you, so willing to approach someone like me, and act so graciously?"
If this man wasn't from Terra, he also wouldn't know the weight of him being a Sarkaz... all the same. A lack of cultural and racial biases didn't make him safe.