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"Leave a missive, but be brief about it."

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[He met Richard's mismatched gaze with his own, reminded of the similarities that had originally brought them together in the first place. Their scars. Richard spent a lifetime hiding his, and Silco spent a lifetime brandishing his. They took different approaches in their lives based on how their societies accepted them. Yet, their similarities were marked all the same, and he knew that they were back on dangerous ground with one another.]

So embrace your nature and stop living in fear. If people will revile you, step on their throats. Give them every reason to fear you, to be afraid to step out of line.

[His methods were harsh and his extremism was built on a lifetime of feeling powerless. He couldn't let people close because they could find a way to topple the empire of dirt that he had built. Yet, just like Richard, he still let people in. Jinx and Richard being the only ones in the last decade.

This was as close to a life of peace as he would have. He didn't care what he had to do to protect it.]

I frankly don't care who finds out. I find that people have far less interest in who someone is bedding with than you expect. It's not as if anyone is going to be hanged and set on fire for two men enjoying one another's company in this place.

[It had been both jarring and intriguing to see all their shared intersections, the common grounds where they kept meeting time after time. They were the same on many accounts. Both monsters lurking in dark, looking to destroy and devour, hurt and claim all while keeping the deadly wrath neatly hidden under the surface.

In a way, discussing with Silco had, at times, felt like looking into a mirror. Seeing someone who could understand him.

But despite all their similarities they were not the same. Silco was fine in the shadows, playing with his empire of dirt. What Richard wanted was more than that. What a kingdom in light, and the overwhelming absolute power that came with it. And, according to ones like Charles and Root, he had obtained it.]

You'd have me dirty my father's legacy, then? [Admit that Richard the Third, a king selected by God himself, was nothing more than a Richard the demon. A dirty criminal that sinned in order to obtain the crown. No, he couldn't do that.

And he wasn't all that sure whether he believed his lover's words about people's disinterest. After all, sexual activities and partnerships seemed to be a rather popular topic on the network. Silco had been making a name for himself in this world, both as a businessman and as Jinx's father, and Richard is certain that people would gossip about his little adventures if they were ever to spread past their control.] And what if they find it interesting. What then?

Edited 2024-11-08 01:20 (UTC)

[Silco could be accused of being things: villain, crime lord, drug lord, demon, asshole to name a small few of the long list. Thankfully, a fool had never been put on that list. The moment that Richard brought up the father, he went quiet and considered the path of moving forward. Richard's father was a clear standard that his lover tried to uphold, and he had seen a small amount of the vehemence to protect that legacy and good name. One threat against his person was enough to make it clear the lengths Richard would go for that.

He moved his glass off of his leg to lean forward so he could put it on the desk in the room. He pushed himself to his feet, tugging his snug vest into place again as he turned to regard his lover seated nearby.] No. His legacy seems to be the last visage that you have of him. In all of your talk of this man who sired you and his legacy, do you believe you are worthy of it? Or is path of his legacy the only thing keeping you from falling off the path?

[He didn't care for crowns or titles or bloodlines. It wasn't part of his world, and so in that, he had difficulty understanding why it meant so much to some. He supposed that in that regard, his inability and almost unwillingness to understand alienated him from Richard. He was the monster in the dark content to exist there knowing it was his place, but Richard tried and tried again to break free of the dark regardless of the talk of being a demon and in darkness.]

Their tongues will wag for a few days or weeks, and then their interest with wane. Something new and shiny will distract them, especially if we give no new ammunition to keep their attentions.

[It didn't seem like something Richard was willing to put risk on. No matter. He was already mostly resigned to allow his lover to pick and choose who knew, especially if this paranoia and anger was going to be the response whenever someone might sniff around their business. Silco was fine just being Richard's monster in the dark while his lover tried to break free and appease the opinions of others.]

If the idea or reality of 'us' will tarnish this legacy you value and this circle of light you continually strive for, so be it. I will be your dirty secret.

['Do you believe you are worth it?'

It's a good thing that there is a desk between them. Because Richard's knee-jerk reaction to that comment is no other than raise his hand against his lover and strike him. The anger running within his veins makes his pupils dilate as he stares daggers at Silco.

Who else if not him?! He wants to shout at him. Who else would be worthy of carrying his father's legacy and dreams -- to make them come true? Edward? George? The two princes? Hah, hardly. His father had chosen Richard as his true heir, entrusting him with the task to make his name live on. The name of King.

But Silco wouldn't get that, would he now? He didn't hear the voice whispering his name, feel the hand in his own, guiding towards the path of sin darkness. Telling him to do what must be done to obtain what was denied of him so long. The life is hell until the crown is placed on this head. No, Silco doesn't see what Richard sees. Despite his own relationship with Jinx.

So, instead of unloading his mind, Richard falls quiet once again. He lowers his gaze down on the glass placed in front of him. The dark amber liquid left untouched. There's twitch of annoyance and frustration. He hates the defeatists, almost indicating undertone in that lied in that last statement. Why is this so damn difficult? All this does is remind him how much he misses his kingmaker. Guess his and Silco's hearts truly weren't together like with Buckingham. ]

I'll talk with Charles. [Richard says, sighing through his nose. Straightening his back, he leans back on the chair and places his hands on the arm rests.

And it's not like that Richard is completely blind to the conflict at the hand, let alone to the one that was storming inside him -- pulling him to all directions. He knew very well that in the end he was nothing but a demon born in midst of angels, seeking to rob the light like Lucifer himself. It was a crime that he would never be forgiven for. They say that despite knowing everything, Christ still loved Judas. But Richard knew that he would not be granted such kindness.

But the light did not exist here. Richard could not see it reflected on the crown that the council had placed on his hands. He was alone in the dark, with Silco as his companion and solace. There was no light. And yet he could not give up on it - blindly grasping at it with all he got. Despite everything, he still wanted God to love him.]

Are you leaving?

[Provoking Richard was easy, especially where that father was concerned. The younger man had described that relationship, had told him the ends of the Earth that his lover had gone to hunt down that father in that war, only to find that the man had been stolen. He could see some of his bond with Jinx in the bond described by Richard about that father. It was such an easy button to push even without intending (though he had here).

The father's name was a defense, a no-win situation for him to pick which hill he was going to die on. So he had. Some hands in poker were just losers and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Better to use that hand to search out another person's tells before folding and moving on to the next hand to be put in play.

And Richard played his hand beautifully. Silco almost thought that the younger man would strike him, and wouldn't that just be fitting? A person insulted someone, and they usually paid a physical price in the Undercity; that's how it had always been and that's what he was used to. For the last few decades, he had been the person to not offend lest he make someone's life difficult or end completely.

From his standing position, he stepped in and leaned forward. He let his hands settle on the arms of the chair that Richard was sitting in just on the outside of where Richard's own arms were settled. He made a point of leaning over, of trapping Richard in that chair even if they both knew that Silco was not his lover's physical match regardless of them both being thin men.]

Say it. [He whispered those words like a temptress. Explode on him. Strike him. Let it out.] Are. You. Worthy. Of your. Father's. Legacy? This man who loved you enough to cry in front of your enemies. Your world stolen right from under you. Are you living for him or yourself?

[He didn't care about Charles; the ghost had proven to have some sense of privacy when it came to information. Silco had a lot of spies in the city to know if there was that kind of rumormongering happening, and he had not come out to his daughter either. So honestly, technically no one knew because he had never admitted to anything. But there was no changing his lover's mind.

He didn't answer the question, waiting to see what Richard would do first. That might determine his response and whether he stayed or went.]

[The sad truth is that Richard is, in the end, very easy to trigger. There are countless proverbial buttons to be pushed if one wanted to push him over the edge, some of them unknown to him. And Silco, for better or worse, had the unique privilege to be privy to most of them - something that Richard had entrusted with the man. And was feeling a regret now.

It was no secret that Richard held his father as higher being than God himself. Despite his yearning and desire to be loved and stand in the light, he would throw it all away if only he could see his father smile at him again. Richard had told the story of his father's downfall to Silco, yes. But trusting that the man would know better than to misuse it. Having the tragedy of it spilled out from his lover's mouth in such manner felt nothing but like a betrayal. Silco had not only exposed an old, painful scar but ripped it open.

With a swift movement, Richard raised his hand to harshly grab on Silco's jaw and forced him back - raising to his own feet as he pushed the other man.]

Just who do you think I am? [His expression is stern and prideful, voice hissing with poisonous anger. Despite all of his insecurities and fears, the demons plaguing his mind and always making him doubt himself, there had always been one thing he could trust on. And that was his father's blood.] My name is Richard Plantagenet. A name that my father bestowed upon me -- his name. It was me who avenged his death, me who defeated the last spark of our enemies. I grabbed the light and turned the kingdom against the crown princes, crushing the opposing dynasty.

There is no one else who can carry that man's legacy but me. I am the king and I choose whoever I want as my lover. [His hold on the man's face is strong and unforgiving as he speaks, staring right into the mismatched eyes with his own. His voice unrelenting and commanding.] Betray me and there will be no place where you can escape my wrath. Understood?

[Silco valued the trust that Richard showed him, and he admired a man that would release their emotions for someone they cared about to such a level. What Richard shared with that father was something he liked to believe that he somewhat could have with Jinx, but their realities were very different. He did wonder what it was like though for a child to value their parent in such a way that they would travel long distances, fight and kill soldiers all for that chance to be united again.

A part of him would have very much been curious to meet this man who was so important to Richard. He wouldn't have the chance unless this other Richard ended up here in Aldrip, he supposed. It was a moot point, punctuated with the sudden fingers closing around his jaw and forcing him to stand up as Richard rose. Otherwise, he held his ground and simply folded his hands behind his back, calm in the face of the potential for physical violence.

He let Richard speak, watching the younger man steadily. It did seem that his challenge had been met with words as he had hoped, and the contents of them listed a parade of atrocities that he could imagine well enough. Stamping out the will of one's enemy - and perhaps life - was something that they had in common. Yet another reason that seemed to see eye-to-eye on many topics.

Though, he did never particularly understand why parents named their children after them. Was it arrogance? Hubris? An odd family tradition? Well, he supposed one had to grow up in a family to potentially understand that concept.]

And what of your brothers? His blood runs in their veins the same as yours. [He spoke calmly as he stared at Richard, studying the younger man's mismatched gaze. Such pride in that man.] Indeed, you are king. Charles told me as much. And what does this choice of lover mean to you as king?

[They had already spoken openly and plainly about what betrayal would mean for each of them. Neither of them were men that took any such slights lightly.] Does discussing your father count as a betrayal?

[Richard's fingers can feel the shape of well-defined, sharp jawline through the layer of leather. The tight grip works as both sign of control and warning for a danger, as they were standing on knife's edge. One wrong move, from either of them presumably, and who knows how badly the situation can escalate.

There's a huff of mocking laughter from Richard when Silco brings up his brothers.]

My brothers were weak and pathetic. One lost his mind and reason in wine while the other one hid his royal behind in the rooms of a brothel, trying to drown himself in another form pleasure. Both fighting and quarreling over petty territories, ultimately weakening our family's position. Would you truly place a crown on their heads? Hardly. [For all the times that Richard had spoken about his Edward and George, this was the first time he was close to being honest with his feelings towards them. There had always been envy, of course, but more than that: a deep rooted frustration, bitterness and anger. Both of them daring to look past him, disregarding the possible danger that he possessed. Richard lost his faith in them and the ridiculous sentiment called 'brotherhood' ages ago.] They hardly could even be counted as thorns on my path, so easy it was to remove them out of my way.

[Oh? So, Silco had been aware of his true status and yet held his tongue. Richard's not too sure to what think of that -- other than that he needs to have more than just few words with Charles. Because right now there was more pressing matter at the hand.] It means that I can do whatever I want with the person I choose. I owe no soul any explanations or reasoning of my actions and choices. Not to some little girl or ghost with too much time on his hands.

[Richard pulled Silco closer by his jaw.] Do not question the strength and validity of the bond between me and my father. I have warned you once before. There will be no third time.

[And with that, he let go of the other man.]

[He was aware of some of what Richard was capable of, and he had enough experience in the underground to imagine what the worst case scenario would be. After all, this was not the first time that his lover had manhandled his face, and this situation was as charged at the last as well. It seemed that Richard favoured grabbing his face as a form of threat, like trying to bring another to heel or knowing the neck was an easy target if one could get a blade there.

Previous conversations involving Richard's brothers had mostly been about their fair hair and bright eyes, their handsome features and build that made them truly 'men' in the eyes of Richard's society. He had suspected that his lover had assisted in taking them out of play, and he also had no doubt that Richard's previous lover also had a hand in that. A rise from the bottom required removing those at the top first to pave the way. This description seemed more accurate of what he imagined siblings might be like. ] So you removed those that stood in your way, even if they carried the blood that you value so much. I suppose they tarnished his legacy with their addictions whereas you were focused on his good name. Do you believe he would be proud of what you've had to do to be king in his name?

[It was foolish to underestimate what Silco did and didn't know around these parts. He made it a point to know as much as he could. Information was a valuable currency even here. He raised his eyebrow at the claim of being able to do whatever was wanted with a lover; he supposed that hiding in the shadows and secrecy were the choice on the matter.] And yet you worry about how tongues will wag should someone beyond us know. It is an interesting choice; I wonder how long we can drag out the secrecy.

[For Silco, he was willing to drag it out if he must. What he had with Richard was not something he expected to have with anyone. He was so far unwilling to lose it.

He leaned in with the pull on his jaw.] Discussing your father and his love for you is not questioning the bond. You two seemed to have chosen each other from the moment you arrived in the world.

[He drew himself up, stepping away from Richard so that he could rest his hip on the side of the desk and wait for his lover to decide if staying in a confined room remained the play for this interaction. Perhaps Richard would walk away and require time apart. He wouldn't blame the younger man.]

[If there is one thing that is sure way to get on Richard's nerves it's looking down on him. He had spent majority of his life being ridiculed, both directly and indirectly, just because of his appearance. Even after reaping glory in the battle he could hear the sneers behind his back, questioning whether he was a knight or a maiden. And for so long he had swallowed his anger and bitterness in resignation, but no more. Of course, to say that Silco had tried to ridicule him was a leap, but the man had tried to physically corner him in the chair in his own rooms while deliberately poking at sore wound - rousing the anger in him. Richard had no issues reminding his lover that he was not only capable of overpowering him, but that he would do so, too.

It's really good thing that Richard likes the man, and that they're alone. Both Catesby and Buckingham would have beheaded him for such insolence.]

My brothers forgot what was important. A man who does not fight is no king. It is what our father taught us as children. They died and I lived, because I never stopped fighting. [Maybe there was once a point in his life when he had believed in Edward as a king, dedicated his life to protect the sacred blood of the York family. But that felt like a lifetime ago. Now Richard understood that all which mattered was that he carried blood of that man in his veins. He understood now that only he could fulfill his father's dream. Surely that precious man would understand.]

We keep it secret as long as we want to. You are master of puppets, are you not? With eyes and ears all around the shadows. I'm certain you would know how to slip in lies and deceit in the place of truth, hm?

[Richard continued to stare down at his lover, eyes cold and calculating. Would he like to break free from the confinement of the room? Yes. But at the same time he felt the voice press at his mind, preventing him from budging. He would not be the one to leave his own office.

The sound of heavy dark wings flapping through the air filled the room.]

You questioned my worthiness to carry on his legacy. That is a betrayal, Silco. I do not speak ill of your relationship with your child, nor question it. I expect you to offer the same respect as I do.

[In that, they had such a sentiment in common. Silco had spent a lifetime being looked down up and rated as being relatively worthless. His value had been what he made it, and he let no one question that without a response. It was why Richard initially calling him a peasant had earned such a strong response from him, and he had no doubt that his lover continued to feel the same way unspoken. Yes, Richard said there was no shame in this pact, but he knew a lifetime of focusing on blood's importance would always set them apart on that sliding scale.

Richard's words also rung true for him as well, and his expression momentarily softened towards an affectionate stare. See? Richard just got it, though replace king with leader he supposed. Those that didn't fight didn't deserve to grow fat on their positions of power; someone would always take it from them.]

I knew there was a reason that I liked you so much. [He corner of his lip tugged in near smile. He finally picked up his tumbler of whiskey and lifted the glass aloft in the form of a toast, as promised before he had picked a fight.] To the fight that neither of us will stop being a part of. Those that won't fight will be put in their place, removed, or manipulated into action. And to the start of your new fight for power here, starting with this inn.

[He made a point of taking a sip from the tumbler before setting it back down on the desk he was leaning against and next to Richard's own abandoned glass. It seemed that his lover knew him well enough to guess where his strengths lay beyond simple business acquisition. Controlling information was as important as gathering it after all.]

As long as you want to. [He corrected that immediately. Silco did not have a vested interest in this particular secret.] But yes, I can spread rumors and deceit far and wide. If you want even a hint of this narrative to go away, I can see it done.

[Silco also would not be the one to leave first, not yet. This was not his space, but after their little tiff, he wouldn't wish to lose ground by turning tail and fleeing. He'd keep a distance for now, respecting that Richard likely wished a boundary of space between them.]

Is it? Well, that won't be a mistake that I make again. I consider myself warned. [It took twice for that to be something he considered as an actual threat.] Ah no, you do not speak ill of my miscreant of a daughter, but your thoughts are loud enough at times. You do not approve of her or the effect she has on me, I expect. Everyone does.

[The sudden affection flashing in Silco's face is enough to disarm Richard and quell some of that anger boiling his blood, replacing it with a mild confusion, which was just as short lived as his lover's softness. The underlying threat for potential violence might be gone, but the air is still cold around them.

Richard sighs out through his nose in frustration, seeing no point in continuing argument. And why would he? They might disagree with it, but at least Silco seems to be willing to respect his boundary on the matter. They would continue keeping their pact secret, hiding it away from possible eyes. Of course, there was matters regarding Jinx and Charles, but they would both handle them. Silco would confront his daughter while Richard his subject. He might not have the power he did back at home, but at least he had the respect of the Ghost that came naturally with his position.

Of course, Richard wasn't foolish enough to think that this was the last time they visited this subject. In a small community as this it was only matter of time when secrets began to spread out if one was not careful. But ah, oh well. They'll cross that bridge when it comes to it.

Richard walked at the table next to Silco, and following his lover's example, he too reached out for the forgotten glass and bottle. He poured more whiskey on his glass, filling it way past the half-way, and then backed down to settle on his chair.]

Well, since you seem to be able to hear my thoughts so loud and clear why won't you share, hm? Just what it is that I disapprove of?

[Silco didn't move as Richard approached, and he was keenly aware of the frostiness around his lover even when they were close. It was perhaps the only reason he didn't close the distance to touch Richard; he knew that kind of mood left no question for distance even when they were next to each other. His mismatched gaze followed the younger man through the motions of pouring, noting that excess that Richard decided to indulge in. An interesting choice.

Perhaps his lover wished to celebrate this new acquisition and their little tiff by throwing down and getting drunk. That was not a state that he allowed himself often, the loss of control too dangerous for one in his position. Perhaps less here, but he liked the clarity of mind even when indulging now and again.

For him, the issue of their relationship was closed. He had no interest in revisiting the topic and would simply carry on being careful and obfuscated. He would keep things professional only on the network if they had to speak, and face-to-face interactions in public were business affairs only. He'd listen for rumors and do everything he could to squash them. It shouldn't be difficult; the sister had already laid the seeds to many that he was incapable for fostering positive relationships. It was time to recirculate such things.

As a show of good faith, he pushed off of being seated half on the desk and returned to his own chair after Richard did.]

If I had to make an educated hypothesis, you think she makes me weak. She's a distraction to my potential, a limiting factor that turns my head away from what must be done. She's brazen, chaotic, tortured and sucks all the air out of a room when she enters. ['She's a problem and we all know it'. However, he would never entertain such opinions. He tipped his head to observe Richard with his good eye.] Anywhere close?

[He lifted his glass towards his lips, pausing before it arrived there.] Or perhaps you're disconcerted with some jealousy?

[Decision to keep hands to himself was most likely the smart choice on Silco's part. The air of irritation was still strong in Richard, and the overly alcohol intake was one sign of it. Just like the other man, Richard hardly ever indulged in spirits enough to have it affect him aside from slight tipsiness. He had never found much pleasure in getting drunk, the fuzzy and numbing on his body and mind only appearing as bothersome and distracting.

It was only those times when he was deeply troubled or angry that he chose to use the alcohol to calm his nerves. Just like now.

He, too, brought the glass to his lips and took a gulp. The amber liquid warmed his body as it traveled down his throat straight to his belly, thawing some of the iciness within him. Richard listened as Silco went on about Jinx, no doubt listing the critique that he had heard from other people working close to him. Well, it's not like he completely disagreed with those statements. His own feelings towards the girl lingered somewhere around the same direction.

But it is the last statement that has him lower the glass and look at his lover, one curious brow arched up.] My, how arrogant of you. [He huffs an amused laughter and shifts on his chair, assuming more leisure position, cheek resting on the knuckles of one hand.] And just what do I have to be jealous of?

[He had not seen Richard indulge in drink unless it was trying something new and sweet. He had plied the younger man with strawberry or sugary alcoholic beverages before, but hard spirits tended to be his wheelhouse. That his lover was half filling a glass did clue him in to the disturbance in his lover's behaviour towards him, and there would come a point where he would logically remind himself to not push.

After all, the younger man was not particularly used to direct and forceful manner of Zaun. Everything in his city was a play for power and control after all. Some had the abilities and others did not. And many did not enjoy being called out even when they thought they wanted a truth.

Richard also didn't refute his diatribe about his daughter. No answer was still an answer.

He was smart enough to spot the warning signs building again. He simply returned to swirling his drink rather that partaking in it; that was his tell when it came to facing off against potential danger.] What indeed? I assume the same as everyone: time, association, resources, and or a sense of missing out on something someone else has. Those are the most common.

[At times like these the gap between their worlds became only wider, separating them. Zaun was world of brute force, it seemed, where one would have bear their claws and show their teeth openly. The court Richard came from was the opposite, blood was shed but it was done in discreet. The game would be played behind closed doors with secret pacts. There was so many rules how to and not to maneuver in Richard's world, unless one wished to lose their head prematurely.

Richard takes another gulp of the whiskey, wiping his bottom lip on the gloved thumb. This time the warmth does bring the color to his pale features, but otherwise there is no visible sign of the alcohol affecting his system.]

You already know what I desire the most. And you do not posses it.

[There were a tremendous amount of backroom deals in Zaun, but he played that game when it suited him. He found that brute force was often necessary to hold things together in a relatively lawless place. With no hierarchy and no royalty or high houses, Zaunites relied on hard work, and forcing respect through fear, manipulation and resources. Everyone had a price that they were willing to pay even for things that they didn't expect to barter for.]

Indeed, you've been very forward on what it is you desire. I can never be your light or hold such a light, so I can never be what you truly desire.

[He operated better in the dark. However, he suspected there was more to it than that, but this conversation was tense enough without him choosing to go down the road where Richard was once again on the back foot. He had walked to the precipice of violence twice now, and he doubted a third would be healthy.]

[Richard lets out another frustrated sigh.

If the mention of Richard's late father was no-win situation to Silco, this line of thinking was one to Richard. He had seen it time and time again, the near defeated air around the man as he went on and on about dirty secrets, miscreants of darkness and low class and what not. Almost as if accusing Richard for something that he left unspoken in the air. It had always irritated Richard but now? Now it was nothing more than vexing.]

You have this habit. I'm not sure if you have noticed it, but you tend to put your worth down. Time after time, twisting my words into tools of oppression. Do you enjoy it? [He asks, voice flat and unimpressed as he swirled the drink in his hand.] That line of thinking is not only insult towards yourself but to me as well.

[Silco stopped swirling his drink when he was told of his habit, and his entire being momentarily stilled. His eyes stared straight ahead, playing back the numerous times they had had similar discussions over these last months. It was interesting that he had a tell that he hadn't considered before, likely due to the fact of his limited contact with those who would consider themselves high born.

A lifetime of oppression and subjugation by Piltover had created a deep seeded hatred in him for those that lived at the top in their ivory towers. It made him... inflexible at times. He knew his worth, but even in his confidence that he was what he was and accepted that, a lifetime of being 'less' would always fuel him in his ambition.

The corner of his lip suddenly pulled in a smirk, and he moved to stretch his legs out from this chair as if he were settling to relax. He brought the tumbler of whiskey to his lips for the second time and downed the remainder, using his thumb to wipe his lower lip as he examined the now empty glass.]

Well, well, what an unfortunate habit that is. [Now that he was indeed aware of it, he could move to correct the imbalance. How could he show such weakness or something that could be perceived as weakness? ] Do I enjoy being a trencher? Absolutely. Do I enjoy knowing that to an entire city of oppressors considered my existence to be little more than what I could produce for their wealth and prosperity? That men and women who called themselves nobility would put me down like a filthy animal if they knew what I was capable of. A lifetime of generational oppression... I suppose it may produce a few tells.

[He lifted his glass so that he could look through it, a distorted image produced on the other side of his view.]

I do not seek crowns or halos of light. I have no sire to have pride in as I don't even know who that is. I grew up with nothing being treated as if I was nothing. You seek things by looking up at a God for love and compassion; our gods abandoned us just like everyone else. Oppression is the only common thread for me and my people. [He dropped the glass to rest on the arm of his chair.] Apologies if the invisible collar around my neck annoys you. I'll do better to hide inconvenient truths from you in future.

[Just like Silco had before, Richard poked the invisible wound on purpose in hopes that it'd provoke a reaction. And oh dear. Did it ever.

He was frustrated, of course, that Silco would always find the way to turn Richard's words against him. Twist and turn and crank, as if to remind them both of the gulf between them. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, who knows. But Richard didn't care, finding only offense in the manner his lover kept mistrusting his words. He had accepted Silco, seen part of himself and another unknown power within him. Why couldn't that be enough?

The stone expression on his face shifts, lips curling up to almost sardonic smile at the end of the speech.] And there it is. The admirable show of rebellion. But I must wonder, who is it that holds the other end of your leash, hm?

[Richard then reached to place his glass back on the table, stood up, shed the top layer of his clothing on the chair and began to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt.] Because for one, it is not me. Ah, but perhaps that would work better for you if it were so?

[Richard walked around the table, right up to Silco. And then, almost as if to mimic his lover's previous actions, he leaned forward. His left hand reached to caress Silco's face as he settled to sit on the man's lap. His shirt was open now, revealing the white binder underneath it - almost as if to tease the other man.]

Do you wish to be the first in my thoughts? Is that the reason you act so offended, like I had wounded your pride? Would it suit you better if I gave up everything just to follow your dreams and worship you? Change my colors and announce every soul out there that I belong to no one else but you?

Or do you wish to see me as one of those who'd enslave you and your people? Chain you up like animals and enjoy the fruit of your hard labor, leaving you less than the scraps? You say that you feel no shame for what we have but be honest. Does it not anger you even a little bit to have brought someone like me to your bed? A son of a noble who represents everything you hate.

[Richard then reached behind his back to pull out the dagger he always carried with him and shoved it flat against Silco's chest.]

There I'm unarmed. Make your choice, unless you are interested in chasing after the third option.

[Heh, Richard had not seen even a fraction of the rebellion that he was capable of, no one in this place had. He was currently setting up the board in his favour so that when it came time to out himself, he already had the invisible stranglehold on those all around him. His web threads were spreading day after day, his seeds of rebellion cultivated by the people that wanted to go home, by those that wanted to stay, and the only ones that yet needed to be mobilized were those that claimed to not care.]

Who said anything about a leash? I slipped the leash long ago, but the collar remains.

[His eyes tracked Richard, and he knew that his lover was perhaps relishing his revelation as he had previous done when he'd struck a nerve on the younger man. It was unusual for someone to call out a tell he wasn't already aware of, and of course his base instinct was to fight when that happened. His expression remained hard with a guarded air about his own thoughts as Richard moved over to him.

Slowly, he pulled his legs back up so that he could settle the flat of his feet on the floor again, both to accommodate his lover suddenly making a move to slide into his lap and in a better position to dump the younger man should he decide to stand. His mismatched eyes stared only at Richard's face, unmoved by the touch to his face for once.]

Oh I don't have to worry about that, now do I Richard? Your motivation in this place requires careful tendering and encouragement, so I think you're going to follow me to a point before you have enough air beneath those wings of yours to take flight. Where will you go, I wonder? [He reached out, fingers dragging down the front of the binder until he could lightly tug at the bottom of it.] You'll leave. I am but a fleeting fancy to you, but you're spoiled for choice yet won't allow yourself to see that truth. My words are permission for you to walk away that you won't yet give yourself.

[His voice was low and soothing, purposefully so. But his tone changed as he considered the second option presented, and there was perhaps an honesty that was well known in the Undercity but never here or even likely in Piltover.] No, you aren't them. I hate every single one of them, but I'm not so foolish to realize I don't need them and their money and their patronage. I will bring them a taste of the fear that they bring us, enslave them with it as they did us. I was so close... [He shifted to sit forward so their noses nearly touched.] Don't you think it's more advantageous for me to never be first on anyone's mind? Just a shadow in the dark, a monster that lurks in the forest or the mines or the streets or wherever. [Did he wish to be first? Perhaps. Would it happen? He doubted it and steeled himself to not caring about it.]

[His hand rose to cover the hand with the knife against his chest, and he made a point to try to curl Richard's fingers around the hilt of it so he could turn the blade to press raw sharp edge to the side of his neck just above the collar of his shirt.]

You haven't seen my rebellious nature, but I suppose a kindred soul will always knows another, noble or peasant. We are the same; the blood on our hands to seize control is enough to drown us both. [With a sudden addition of pressure, he dragged the blade along his skin until a thin line of blood beaded along it then he moved to shove the blade at Richard.] Shall we spill blood together... or apart? [Third option.]

Edited (changing things around to make more sense) 2024-11-11 14:50 (UTC)

[Silco was an enigma. Whenever Richard looks at the man all he sees is a deep pit of darkness, one with many mysterious and deadly caverns that hid monstrosities in their depths, each always more horrible than the other. Like the fissure where he had born into. Richard was quite sure that he had only seen merely a fraction of the heat that Silco carried with him, a spark of an ember if even that. He knew better than to underestimate his lover. But also not to overestimate him either.

When Silco shifts underneath him Richard moves too, sliding his legs on the man's side and knees digging into the hard surface of the chair so that he's straddling his lover properly. With his fingertips mapping the shape of Silco's ever-so-familiar bone structure he listens to his words, his own expression staying unchanging and attentive.

Ah, he can tell that the other man is trying to bait him, fishing out that anger from him again with the mentions of his impassivity and lack of motivation. There was truth in that statement, of course, Richard's willingness to act had been wavering. And, despite this newest move, he still felt couldn't claim to be as invested as the other man was. He was yet to be convinced that this world had anything to offer him but ah. Guess, monsters can't stay idle too long either.

It had been in his intention to just push the knife at the Silco and leave it that, but the fingers curling around his own prevented him from withdrawing his hand. That's fine, then. Keeping his grip on the knife's handle, he allows Silco to guide their hands up and press the sharp edge of the blade against the tender, thin skin of his neck. The mismatched gaze caught the sight of crimson bead, bursting through faint cut. ]

If that truly is the case then stop rattling your chains at me like a sad ghost whenever I look elsewhere. The scorned lover attitude does not become of you. [When Silco pushes the knife back at him, he pulls his hand away from the man's face to grab on the handle to make keep Silco's hold on it. He stretches his neck forward to speak directly to his lover's ear, pressing his place chest against the cool steel.]

But, if there is something else you want say it out loud. Name it and claim it with those blood soaked hands of yours. [His voice drops down to a whisper, dripping of dare and lure. As if to asking the other to go ahead and do it, push the knife and break his skin.]

[He allowed Richard to settle further into his lap and likely find the most comfortable spot possible given the chair that he was seated upon. While he didn't lean into the touch to his face as he normally might, his expression did soften towards it and his blue eye half closed for half a minute. There was familiarity with that touch, a reminder that despite them barbing each other and seeking ways to rackle each other that this was likely little more than a ripple in a puddle. Soon it would smooth over.

He snorted softly at the comment about him rattling chains. That wasn't his intention, but this manner of relationship remained unexpected even after the months that had passed. Perhaps he was a bit cagey waiting for the other shoe to drop, hmm?] Hmm, if I felt scorned, you would know it. I would make no secret of it, and I expect that would be a scenario of mutual destruction.

[His head tipped subtly towards the lips that were by his ear, his eyes fixed on the back of Richard's head which he could still see. He hummed softly as he considered, the sting of the shallow injury sharpening his attention their closeness. His hand flicked the knife tip to drag over skin above Richard's binding.]

Hmmm, such a temptress, as always. The only thing that I want is to celebrate this acquisition with you. It appears you're at least setting down enough roots to wile away the time here. [He did indeed press the knife tip in to break skin and urge out a bead of blood.]

[The seduction was definitely the main card on Richard's hand at the moment. Although this time it also came with a play for power and control. There was no denying that the older man held the reins more often than not in this strange relationship of theirs, with the man being more experienced and able to see the past Richard's defenses and what not. Though, while Silco played the mental game, Richard could dominate the physical one. Whether it was with the threat of violence, or seduction.

When Richard feels the sharp of the cool blade poking against his skin, he only leans in closer. He pushes the sharp edge of the weapon along the area above his binder, drawing a curved line along his collar bone. The blood pushes through the incision, pearling up to surface in red smile. Then, he lets go of the weapon and quickly reaches out to grab Silco's short hair to pull his lover's head to the side and expose his neck.

And without saying anything he dibs his own head so that he can close his lips around the small cut on his throat. Tongue pressing flat around the edge of the injury, he begins to suck. The tangy iron taste, accompanied by the saltiness from the dried sweat on the man's skin, hits him like a high -- making his own heart beat faster from excitement and ears ring.

But there is only so much he can get from such small opening. So, it doesn't take even a half of minute for Richard to extract himself from the man -- but not before giving him a harsh bite. His gloved hand still remains in Silco's hair, while the other one moves to smudge the bare fingertips on his own blood.]

I never again want to hear the words "dirty little secret" leave your lips. Do not think that I would ever pick myself a lover that I would treat as less than me. [Then, almost as a sign of a vow, he presses his bloodied fingers against his lover's lips.]

[Unbidden, his breath caught in his throat and was held there as he felt the blade tip move, gliding upwards along Richard's pale flesh. Beads of red blossomed from the shallow injury, and his eyes flicked down from his lover's face to view the minor laceration. His attention distracted by the show, his breath still caught in his throat as he felt a flush of heat in his guts, exacerbated by the sudden feeling of fingers gripping his hair.

That's when his breath shuddered out of him, and he didn't put up more than token resistance as his head was pulled to one side. His blue eye closed and he shifted in his seat - not quite squirming - when he felt Richard's tongue against his neck over the stinging little injury. He experienced the first stirrings of interest, which might have been as surprising as the bite.

Lust built swiftly and one hand reached out to seize his lover by a thigh as his eyes watched Richard. Breathing increased, and he shifted again in the chair, allured and hyperfocused on this strange and not unpleasant turn of events.]

Hmmm, very well... [He stared at Richard, feeling the blood smeared on his lips, and his tongue tip darted out to taste it. His free hand stroked down his lover's arm holding his hair and then snapped out to curl in Richard's hair in return.

He pulled his lover's head back with whatever force necessary barring pulling out hunks of hair and leaned in so he could put his mouth over that bleeding injury, savouring the thousands of pinpricks of sensation where Richard still held his hair.] Equals then....

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cw: surprise knife and bloodplay?

cw: bloodplay omg