forum No Choice (Closed with Null-Gravity) (1/1) (MxM)

Started September 05, 2023 by @RhysTheFirebird group

tune

5 minutes pass while Roazin waits.

Not because Incarcius was busy but because he really did not want to deal with this. . . foreigner. It truly pissed him off how bold the rulers of both his new fiancé and his kingdom were being, marrying this. . . wimp to him, the terror of any nation who his father and him don't like.

Anyways, after 5 minutes had passed the door to the room opens and Incarcius steps in. Now that he was alone with the prince, he didn't bother to hide his disdain or anger.

"I have no words for you. Only three rules. One, stay out of my way. I do not need you here, nor do I want you here. I am only entertaining this delusional farce on my father's orders. If I have need if you, I will call for you. Two, you are not to leave the grounds of this manner. It is now, in essence, your new prison. Get used to counting the same blades of grass over and over," the prince of Veandera says harshly.

He turns away and strides towards the window, staring outside.

"And three. You are to perfect the Veanderan tongue. Until you do, you are not to talk to me unless I ask you a direct question."

He looks at Roazin from the corner of his inhuman eyes.

"Any questions before I have the servants guide you to your room?" Incarcius inquires.

Roa's lips part slight in shock, his golden eyes widening slightly. Confusion mixed with slight anger, his chin lifting defiantly. "I will. . . Not stay locked away just. . . To please you, Incarcius." His eyes narrow slightly, his posture shifting, back straightening and stiffening.

"I am. . . Already working on. . . Your language. You do not need to. . . Tell me what to do." The anger was growing at this man's behavior, thinking he could just boss Roa around. "Do not presume that. . . Just because I am here. . . Away from my homeland. . . Does not mean I am yours to order around."

His arms cross over his chest, his jaw tightening.

Incarcius' eyes flash wildly. With a move, a warm - no, make that almost searingly hot - blade is pointed at Roazin, the golden light staining the room with the unyielding light of Heaven; the power in the weapon was unmistakable. It was a clear display, meant to intimidate. The calculated, furious look on the prince's face was terrible to behold.

"Your father gave you to me as a part of a peace treaty. I all but own you, Roazin. I can do what I wish, and if I wish to lock you in a cell to rot for the rest of your worthless life, I will make it so." he snarls, his tone dripping with disdain and anger.

The blade disappears now and the prince takes a breath. "As for your butchery of my tongue, I can hardly call it better than a small child's way of speaking. I predicted this, however, and in an hour your tutors and teachers shall arrive. They shall also teach you the customs of my home, and my kingdom, that way when I bring you to meet the king you do not look an absolute fool."

He turns back away from Roa. "Have I made myself clear?"

Roa raises an eyebrow. Despite his soft demeanor and quiet voice, he was unfazed by the blade pointed at him. He looks down at it, smirking slightly. There were only so many people who were able to strike fear into his heat and mind. This man was not it. Instead, rage flashes in his golden eyes.

He switches to his own tongue, not caring if Icarus could follow or not. He'd red the reports of how many of his people had been taken after being suspected spies. "While my father gave me to you, your father also gave you to me. Think you have however much power you want, but no cell you have can hold me." Roa knew that Incarcius didn't know of his gifts, no one did. He had kept it secret, and would continue to do so as long as possible. Any prison, he would be able to free himself from with just a few drawings.

"Now, I would appreciate it if you would remove your damn blade from my person. I would really hate for this to get violent this soon."

He tilts his head, flashing a warm smile. His kept the features on his face gentle and welcoming, though inside, he was raging at this man's treatment of him.

He huffs out a laugh, "I am not dropping everything of my homeland. I don't care what my father's butler said, I will wear the clothes of my people. The only reason I am learning your language is to communicate. You can suck it up and deal with it." He places his hands on his hips, glaring.

"But other than that, you've made yourself crystal clear."

He steps past Incarcius, walking towards the door.

The atmosphere sours further, and I felt as if an almost incomprehensible anger had started to leech the warmth from the very stones of the castle itself. The stones next to Roazin's head shatter as a golden spear strikes the wall, and yet Incarcius had not yet looked away from the window.

"In your arrogance you not only presume to challenge me but the king of the nation in which you now reside. I do not know what else to call that beyond sheer hubris or an extreme lack of intelligence. At the least you have no care for your well being," the prince says softly but the underlying snarl betrayed his emotions.

Without warning, Roazin would feel a strong hand grabbing his chin harshly, not bothering to try and keep from hurting him. The half-angel prince glares coldly down at him. He switches to Roa's language, and with his usual arrogant precision he starts to speak in the smaller prince's native language.

"The next time you decide to threaten me, I will throw you in the lions pit and we shall see if you can be as arrogant in the face if them as you have been with me," he whispers. He may have messed up a couple conjugations and a simple mix up of the two different ways to say "you," but as per usual he was nearly flawless. He hated being lesser versed in anything, especially if the one who had more knowledge was someone Incarcius had no intention of acknowledging as anything more than a stain in his marvelous home.

Incarcius releases Roazin and steps aside coldly. The spear had long since disappeared. The hateful prince gestures for Roa to leave.

"I will be in touch with you again shortly. Your room is the one adjacent to this one," he says, his tone now as cold and arrogant as it was before the argument, no traces of anger left on his face save for a slightly twisted lip.

Roa doesn't even flinch, spinning around, "I do not challenge anyone. I state only fact." His lips press together in a thin line, golden eyes glimmering.

"If you wish to demand respect from me, I will demand the same from you. I see no reason to respect someone who has no respect for me."

Roa was not pleased with the insults, assuming that just because he would not lay down and let someone be an asshole to him, that he was an idiot. Or no respect for his life. He could scoff at that notion.
Roa had spent his whole life fighting to keep it.

Roa lets out a hiss, his golden eyes darkening. His rage was palpable, fingers curling into his palms, "I only threaten you out of a live for my people. I'm sure you would do the same. If you had come to my home instead, you wouldn't give up your traditions just because I or my father told you to.

"Don't go assuming just because you're bigger than I am that I'll just take your bullying and posturing without a word."

Roa jerks his chin free before Incarcius could release him and stalks from the room, slamming the door behind him. He makes it to his room and throws his jacket on the bed.

All of this white was starting to give him a headache. He was missing the dark, rich colors of his home. He sits down in a chair, rubbing his temples. "Fucking hell. . ."

Incarcius ignored everything up until Roazin decided to assume what he might or might not do.

"If it is for the greater good of my country, I would even drive us to ruin," he hisses, his eyes betraying maybe what might lie beneath his cruel, explosive exterior. "I would turn hell to heaven and rend the very earth itself asunder to grant my people a peaceful life. That is how I must be. You don't have the stones to think like that, or the will to torch countless fields in the name if king and country. The steadfast and heavyhanded iron resolve of a warrior is not something soneone as insignificant as you could even hope to understand."

He lets Roazin leave without another word, but his fervent, zealous, almost callously catatonic words about his beliefs ringing in the air.

He slumps against the wall when nobody is in sight, making sure the door is closed before he lets himself start to shake and cry silently.

He hated being the only one who had the will to put his own desires aside for a chance for hie country to grow. But as the crown prince, he knew nobody else could take his place.

So presently, he straightens and dries his face, composing himself before striding imperiously out of his room.

"Call the prince once dinner is served. Keep guards around his door and assign him a team of four of our best. Send a servant to the training hall just before you start serving the food. And if the prince wishes to speak with me, send him alone," he orders a nearby servant. The servant nods and rushes off. Incarcius heads out to his training room to start his training regimen.

Roa tips his head back, gaze locked on the ceiling and blowing out a breath. Maybe he'd do a little redecorating in here. Somehow. But for now, he got up and walked to his chest, flipping it open. He had a few outfits that weren't soiled by travel, all of them formal except for one.

He pulls out a pair of soft, dark brown trousers and a loose black tunic, changing into the clothes. His shoulders relaxed and he flops onto the bed, a ball of dark colors in a vast ocean of whites and creams.

He lays there for a few moments before falling asleep, the stress of the day swiftly dragging him under. He sleeps dreamlessly, waking about two hours later.

He sits up, rubbing his face. He glanced out the window before standing and grabbing his boots and jacket. He pulls them on, sliding them on. He walks towards his door, opening it.

He pauses, seeing the guards and scowls, walking past them.

Incarcius loved his manor's training room. Not just because of the vast array of weapons and training areas, but also because of how far removed it was from the rest of the rooms in the house. It was his own little haven where nobody dared bother him, not even his guards.

It was a magically reinforced granite room, 30 feet wide and half a mile long, filled to the very foundations with fortification spells, anti-magic fields and a vast and varied array of sealing spells for demihumans. It was a place meant to hone the physical rather than magical. It was secluded behind a stout steel door, at the back of the manor.

Each of the walls was covered in a different type of weapon: bladed weapons, polearms, ranged weapons and shields. Incarcius was most familiar with the bladed weapons and polearms, which meant he usually focused exclusively o the shields and ranged weapons. He went to the ranged weapons and picked up a heavy, nearly impossible to draw bow, taller than him.

He examines it carefully, noting the powerless runes of weight and strength carved into the wood. Even without them, only the strongest and most skilled archers of the Giant race could draw it - yet Incarcius pulls it back with some amount of ease, not nocking an arrow quite just yet. He just wanted to get a feel for it, to test his own limits. He locks his shoulders and elbows and holds the position for as long as he could, which was only about thirty seconds before his strength gave out.

He nods, then goes to grab the steel shafted arrows and carefully nocks it, taking aim at a target 200 feet away. He pulls back, takes a breath, and as he exhales he lets the arrow fly. With a thunderous CRACK the arrow flies and hits the target off center.

Incarcius sighs and shakes his head disappointedly.

Roa sighs softly, if Incarcius wanted to keep him locked up, the man himself would have to drag Roa kicking and screaming back to the stifling bedroom. Honestly, he didn't understand how someone didn't get a raging headache with all the light and white currently surrounding him. He rubs his temples, groaning softly.

He closes his eyes, trying to block out the brilliant colors. He would have to mute his room, seriously. He sighs, walking through the halls, trying to find a way out. This whole damn place was confusing.

After maybe a half hour of wandering around, he comes face to face with a steel door, tilting his head. He reaches out to touch the door, when one of the guards clears his throat. "I wouldn't go in there, if I were you." To looked at the guard and then the door.

"Why, is it because its forbidden, or because Incarcius is in there?" He places his hands on his hips, "Neither of which scares me."

The guard stares at Roa as if he had just sprouted two more heads. Roa smirks and pushes open the heavy door, easier than his slight frame suggested he could.

He steps into the room, closing the door and peers around, awed by the array of weapons. He feels the magical suppression spells, among others, like a weight on his chest and lets out a wheezing sound as he coughs. Jesus, that was a lot of spells.

He wanders into the room, his gaze locking onto the figure on the center. Incarcius. He watches, just in time to see the arrow fly and land.

"That's still pretty impressive, a lot better than most could achieve." He crosses his arms. A lot better than he could.

Incarcius doesn't flinch or otherwise react to Roa's unwanted and unneeded presence in the training room for another few minutes as he keeps on firing arrow after arrow.

After he was done training with the bow, he walks over to the wall the bows were on and sets the bow carefully back in its spot. He finally turns to Roa.

"What business do you have here?" he asks shortly, brushing past Roa as he walks over to the section of wall that has all the swords one could possibly imagine on it - and even some swords you couldn't have imagined without some level of either genius or insanity. Or both.

"Are you here to pester me with questions? Or are you just here to watch me, and see how well you might do if you were to attack me?"

He poses the questions casually, but it was clear he was annoyed by the foreign prince's presence.

"Or are you here, heaven forbid, to train?" he snorts.

He reaches up and grabs one of the longswords, beautiful yet simple. As a weapon, it was a masterpiece, but for Incarcius it was just a training tool.

Roa huffs, rolling his eyes as he watches. He presses his lips together, tilting his head to the side, "What makes you think I would attack you? I'm not the offensive type. My skill set and. . . Abilities wouldn't do so well. Though I suppose I could fight if it came to it, but I'll leave the blood letting to you." He places a hand on his hip as he walks to the wall of weapons, lightly pressing his finger, against the blade of the axe, not even wincing as blood runs down his finger. He traces it on the wall, drawing a bird and staring at the image.

"I create things to do the fighting for me, most times. If I were to train, I would stay in that god awful room as just draw."

He then smears his hand through the drawing, "Seeing as I can't even use my magic down here." He looks at Incarcius.