[ The "Galra," still wordless, opens his mouth. With a flick of his tongue, out from within his throat crawls an insect. Viren of the past, reasonably, appears perturbed by this. The mysterious figure allows it to delicately crawl onto his hand, helping it into his cauldron. With another shine of light, and with Viren peeking over his own bowl, the purplish creatures relocates itself on Viren's side of the mirror. ]
[ there are a few unfortunate things to address, here. viren's immediately flustering further at, firstly, the lack of cooperation (that had been predictable, though), and then the set of questions to follow. he gestures more emphatically, pointing hopefully and unhelpfully towards wherever keith had come from -- wherever an exit mirror was to be located. it might be late for that, however. this is accompanied by an answer, ]
I don't know any Galra. [ which, because he hasn't a clue what aaravos is (except elven, probably), this... would actually be a possibility. the frustration within his voice grows: ] This is just -- not an uncommon ritual that you're witnessing.
[ snappishly: it's a hesitant, sputter of a lie. this is all very average and normal, really. ]
[ Human Viren has lowered his hand to the bug, which takes the invitation -- for whatever godforsaken reason, it chooses to crawl beneath his clothes. The dark mage gasps as it travels over his skin with a seemingly agonizing, deliberate slowness. It reemerges at Viren's collar, scuttling to perch atop his ear. A remarkably deep, smooth voice then seems to echo from every corner of the dungeon, perhaps exacerbated by the memory holder's perspective,
"Speak." ]
[ thankfully, what with however the dream mirrors tend to decide, the figures within the scene freeze as this portion of the memory comes to an end. ]
[ Once again, Keith is of split mind on where all he ought to be looking. Present day Viren keeps gesticulating wildly and he doesn't know if that might, at a point, get to outright physical harm. Can he even be hurt in this ... well, wherever this is?
But ultimately, it's the mystery maybe-Galra that steals the show completely and utterly by coughing up a purple caterpillar-like creature.]
What the --
[ And then off it goes, wriggling down into the cauldron only to emerge on the other side where the more human Viren of the past looks about as perplexed as Keith feels. This continues to be weird, even by Keith's standards after months of exposure to the bizarre happenings in outer space, and the strangeness of it only intensifies when the tiny creature goes crawling up Viren's arm and perches on his ear.
That voice -- deep, resonant and disturbingly silky -- makes the hairs on the back of Keith's neck rise. That is absolutely not a voice that insect familiars should have, thank you very much?? But perhaps to the relief of everyone in the room, the memory faded and the two of them are left standing in darkness with just the exit mirror to keep them company. ]
Okay.
[ He takes a deep breath, but finding that didn't actually help organize his thoughts here, he pinches the bridge of his nose for a second, then straightens up again looking dragonic-Viren dead in the eye. ]
I thought you were a lawyer! [ It's his own fault for making the assumption, but that sure as hell isn't stopping Keith from wording that like an accusation. ] How is that a normal ritual? You looked just as weirded out by what was happening. [ A beat. ] Does Soren know about this?
[ viren makes a series of faces in reaction to keith's exclamations, and inquiries, and observations. the last of which has his posture tensing, eyes growing wider. how should he answer that one? with the truth? lie through his teeth? and then he relents, ]
What does it matter? Soren doesn't know, nor need to know, all of my personal business! [ more acrimoniously, ] Any of it, for that matter.
[ he bites his tongue, forcing himself to think before he blurts out some other, potentially unconvincing, response. he hadn't been prepared to handle this level of damage control. but if pressed... ]
[ with a growl, and an arch of an eyebrow, ]
Speaking of which -- you would think to mind your own, boy.
[ This might be the least consequential of his current gripes with Viren, but it sure is the first thing Keith says. Standing straight backed with one hand on his hip, the other slipped inside a pocket, he may as well just be the poster boy for recalcitrants. He sucks in a deep breath. ]
If you wanna be mad at me for snooping around, fine. But you're not convincing me that you wouldn't have done the same if you were curious enough.
[ Incurious people don't get involved in mystery blood rituals, after all. ]
I'm not gonna get involved in other people's family drama so fine -- Soren doesn't know. He won't hear about this from me.
But I want to know what you were trying to get out of that ritual.
[ keith could very well bt the poster boy for it. it's a trait that viren finds, naturally, intensely undesirable, detests it-- of course he does, when met with disagreement. but that particular request, at least, receives little outward response. ]
[ the accusation, however, is met with a narrowing of his eyes, a slight shuffling of his boots. keith's hit the nail on the head with that acknowledge hypocrisy: that of course he would've done the same, and perhaps even more doggedly. and although viren's tone hadn't been kind before, precisely, now it's gone cold. there's a thmp of his tail against the dungeon's stone flooring. ]
[ it's a question that stirs something within him - his own unease at the circumstances behind it, what he had been trying to get. ]
And why, [ he finally breathes, some smoke trailing from between teeth, ] is that of consequence to you?
[ Ah. So Viren's feeling defensive or threatened, is he? If Keith were the sort to buckle to intimidation, he wouldn't be trying to fight Zarkon one on one, so tragically the tail thump and billowing smoke does little to persuade him to head towards the exit mirror. ]
It just might. [ A beat. ] You are a member of the city council, aren't you?
[His eyes marrow slightly. Viren seems a little too pompous to play dumb intentionally, so he doubts he's going to have to elaborate on where he's going with that. ]
So tell me. What were you trying to get out of that ritual.
[ as it stands, viren doesn't need the elaboration; indeed, pompous he may be, spelling out the sub subtleties and implications when mentioning politics is unnecessary. ]
[ he feels caught, somehow, like a rat chased into a glue trap. he curses himself: for all the memories shared alongside others, he should've prepared for this. there's a long moment of tense silence. he half considers blowing off the question with a huff, storming out the mirror himself. ]
[ keith receives a cold, hard stare. ]
Perhaps you haven't experienced it: to be at a point so low that you're without a choice, that you're forced to exhaust the least desirable, and the very last, of avenues available to you.
[ the words bite terribly at his pride. he deems it a loss, to admit that he couldn't be certain of what to expect. "commonplace" ritual, and all. so, quietly, ]
[ There've been a lot of twists and turns in the last couple of minutes. Prying into other people's memories is naturally going to come with a few unexpected curveballs, but going even beyond the oddity of Viren's blood ritual, possible (?) Galra connections and bug familiar is the preface Viren attaches to his answer.
Keith stares for a moment, expression softening with surprise. He stays quiet like he halfway expects there to be some punchline to the fact that he's now somehow feeling ... not exactly sorry for Viren, but a shade more sympathetic than he ever wanted to.
Low points, huh. Maybe it's easier to laugh at the thought that someone actually thinks he's some privileged spoilt kid who's never had a hard day in his life. If he dwells on it long enough, he certainly starts feeling a familiar and comfortable kind of irritation.
He drops eye contact, looking off to the stone wall. Even that, he realizes, has probably said a bit too much. Looking back up, he continues in the same defiant tone as before. ]
To help you with what?
[ Maybe it's too early to be feeling sympathetic. Maybe it was just a completely frivolous thing, but the fact that he's quit throwing out goading commentary, if nothing else, could probably be taken as a sign of grudging respect. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ there are a few unfortunate things to address, here. viren's immediately flustering further at, firstly, the lack of cooperation (that had been predictable, though), and then the set of questions to follow. he gestures more emphatically, pointing hopefully and unhelpfully towards wherever keith had come from -- wherever an exit mirror was to be located. it might be late for that, however. this is accompanied by an answer, ]
I don't know any Galra. [ which, because he hasn't a clue what aaravos is (except elven, probably), this... would actually be a possibility. the frustration within his voice grows: ] This is just -- not an uncommon ritual that you're witnessing.
[ snappishly: it's a hesitant, sputter of a lie. this is all very average and normal, really. ]
[ Human Viren has lowered his hand to the bug, which takes the invitation -- for whatever godforsaken reason, it chooses to crawl beneath his clothes. The dark mage gasps as it travels over his skin with a seemingly agonizing, deliberate slowness. It reemerges at Viren's collar, scuttling to perch atop his ear. A remarkably deep, smooth voice then seems to echo from every corner of the dungeon, perhaps exacerbated by the memory holder's perspective,
"Speak." ]
[ thankfully, what with however the dream mirrors tend to decide, the figures within the scene freeze as this portion of the memory comes to an end. ]
no subject
But ultimately, it's the mystery maybe-Galra that steals the show completely and utterly by coughing up a purple caterpillar-like creature.]
What the --
[ And then off it goes, wriggling down into the cauldron only to emerge on the other side where the more human Viren of the past looks about as perplexed as Keith feels. This continues to be weird, even by Keith's standards after months of exposure to the bizarre happenings in outer space, and the strangeness of it only intensifies when the tiny creature goes crawling up Viren's arm and perches on his ear.
That voice -- deep, resonant and disturbingly silky -- makes the hairs on the back of Keith's neck rise. That is absolutely not a voice that insect familiars should have, thank you very much?? But perhaps to the relief of everyone in the room, the memory faded and the two of them are left standing in darkness with just the exit mirror to keep them company. ]
Okay.
[ He takes a deep breath, but finding that didn't actually help organize his thoughts here, he pinches the bridge of his nose for a second, then straightens up again looking dragonic-Viren dead in the eye. ]
I thought you were a lawyer! [ It's his own fault for making the assumption, but that sure as hell isn't stopping Keith from wording that like an accusation. ] How is that a normal ritual? You looked just as weirded out by what was happening. [ A beat. ] Does Soren know about this?
no subject
What does it matter? Soren doesn't know, nor need to know, all of my personal business! [ more acrimoniously, ] Any of it, for that matter.
[ he bites his tongue, forcing himself to think before he blurts out some other, potentially unconvincing, response. he hadn't been prepared to handle this level of damage control. but if pressed... ]
[ with a growl, and an arch of an eyebrow, ]
Speaking of which -- you would think to mind your own, boy.
no subject
[ This might be the least consequential of his current gripes with Viren, but it sure is the first thing Keith says. Standing straight backed with one hand on his hip, the other slipped inside a pocket, he may as well just be the poster boy for recalcitrants. He sucks in a deep breath. ]
If you wanna be mad at me for snooping around, fine. But you're not convincing me that you wouldn't have done the same if you were curious enough.
[ Incurious people don't get involved in mystery blood rituals, after all. ]
I'm not gonna get involved in other people's family drama so fine -- Soren doesn't know. He won't hear about this from me.
But I want to know what you were trying to get out of that ritual.
no subject
[ the accusation, however, is met with a narrowing of his eyes, a slight shuffling of his boots. keith's hit the nail on the head with that acknowledge hypocrisy: that of course he would've done the same, and perhaps even more doggedly. and although viren's tone hadn't been kind before, precisely, now it's gone cold. there's a thmp of his tail against the dungeon's stone flooring. ]
[ it's a question that stirs something within him - his own unease at the circumstances behind it, what he had been trying to get. ]
And why, [ he finally breathes, some smoke trailing from between teeth, ] is that of consequence to you?
no subject
It just might. [ A beat. ] You are a member of the city council, aren't you?
[His eyes marrow slightly. Viren seems a little too pompous to play dumb intentionally, so he doubts he's going to have to elaborate on where he's going with that. ]
So tell me. What were you trying to get out of that ritual.
no subject
[ he feels caught, somehow, like a rat chased into a glue trap. he curses himself: for all the memories shared alongside others, he should've prepared for this. there's a long moment of tense silence. he half considers blowing off the question with a huff, storming out the mirror himself. ]
[ keith receives a cold, hard stare. ]
Perhaps you haven't experienced it: to be at a point so low that you're without a choice, that you're forced to exhaust the least desirable, and the very last, of avenues available to you.
[ the words bite terribly at his pride. he deems it a loss, to admit that he couldn't be certain of what to expect. "commonplace" ritual, and all. so, quietly, ]
Answers. Counsel. Anything -- to help.
no subject
Keith stares for a moment, expression softening with surprise. He stays quiet like he halfway expects there to be some punchline to the fact that he's now somehow feeling ... not exactly sorry for Viren, but a shade more sympathetic than he ever wanted to.
Low points, huh. Maybe it's easier to laugh at the thought that someone actually thinks he's some privileged spoilt kid who's never had a hard day in his life. If he dwells on it long enough, he certainly starts feeling a familiar and comfortable kind of irritation.
He drops eye contact, looking off to the stone wall. Even that, he realizes, has probably said a bit too much. Looking back up, he continues in the same defiant tone as before. ]
To help you with what?
[ Maybe it's too early to be feeling sympathetic. Maybe it was just a completely frivolous thing, but the fact that he's quit throwing out goading commentary, if nothing else, could probably be taken as a sign of grudging respect. ]