Darin Altway (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
forgeabettertomorrow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2019-09-14 02:31 pm
forgeabettertomorrow) wrote in maskormenacelogs2019-09-14 02:31 pm
Entry tags:
Someone Would Probably Use Footage Of This Fight to Make a Linkin Park AMV | CLOSED
WHO: Darin Altway, Guzma, and Allura as ref
WHERE: One of the warehouses in Darin's Forge, Nonah
WHEN: Sometime this week
WHAT: Darin and Guzma can't exchange words like normal people so they're fighting. Again. Allura's babysitting.
WARNINGS: Blood, violence, swearing, cross-counters with stadium lighting for the Blu Ray cover
[Darin was actually kind of surprised by the fact that Allura agreed to 'referee' this clearly ill-advised fight. In actuality, she was there to make sure Guzma didn't try anything particularly shady, like using his powers or breaking a pokémon out halfway through the fight. But there was the very stupid fact that Darin was going to slap a nullifier on himself to cancel out his abilities just to prove to Guzma he was more than what his powers gave him. The problem with that?]
[The source of his powers is tethered to his very soul. Shutting them away would have the same effect of taking all of the oxygen out of him. He'd be on a time limit because he'd be very slowly dying. What that time limit actually was couldn't be determined; it was likely set by how stubborn Darin was at any given time. The point is, it was incredibly dangerous and this fight had to be kept on the down-low. No public brawl this time, no open warfare in the streets or in a park where people could film it and see it and make BlueTube Mashups or Reaction videos.]
[Just two men beating the living hell out of one another in order to prove...something or other to the other person. It's all very manly and incredibly stupid.]
[Darin had one of his warehouses cleared out and a makeshift ring set up so this could be done nice and proper. He sent Guzma the time and the place, and now he was just sitting on his side of the 'ring' waiting for him to show up.]
WHERE: One of the warehouses in Darin's Forge, Nonah
WHEN: Sometime this week
WHAT: Darin and Guzma can't exchange words like normal people so they're fighting. Again. Allura's babysitting.
WARNINGS: Blood, violence, swearing, cross-counters with stadium lighting for the Blu Ray cover
[Darin was actually kind of surprised by the fact that Allura agreed to 'referee' this clearly ill-advised fight. In actuality, she was there to make sure Guzma didn't try anything particularly shady, like using his powers or breaking a pokémon out halfway through the fight. But there was the very stupid fact that Darin was going to slap a nullifier on himself to cancel out his abilities just to prove to Guzma he was more than what his powers gave him. The problem with that?]
[The source of his powers is tethered to his very soul. Shutting them away would have the same effect of taking all of the oxygen out of him. He'd be on a time limit because he'd be very slowly dying. What that time limit actually was couldn't be determined; it was likely set by how stubborn Darin was at any given time. The point is, it was incredibly dangerous and this fight had to be kept on the down-low. No public brawl this time, no open warfare in the streets or in a park where people could film it and see it and make BlueTube Mashups or Reaction videos.]
[Just two men beating the living hell out of one another in order to prove...something or other to the other person. It's all very manly and incredibly stupid.]
[Darin had one of his warehouses cleared out and a makeshift ring set up so this could be done nice and proper. He sent Guzma the time and the place, and now he was just sitting on his side of the 'ring' waiting for him to show up.]
no subject
Either way, Guzma does indeed show up--on time even. Perhaps he'd have made them wait if this was anything else, but his punctuality is meant to mark his seriousness in this whole stupid thing. Seeing Darin in the ring, hell, seeing the place fashioned like some sort of fighting-type specialist's shitty attempt at a gym is charming in a way. Darin really put some thought into this, and maybe Guzma's a little flattered.]
You picked her, huh? [He calls out as he approaches, his gaze shifting to Allura, before settling on Darin as he stops just outside the ring, hands in his pockets as per the usual.] Y'sure you want me to humiliate you in front of her?
Unless she's into that sorta thing, I ain't one to judge.
[As he says that last bit, he shrugs his hoodie off his shoulders, retrieving his hands from his pockets to properly remove it.]
no subject
[Allura's standing off to the side of all of this. However, she's certainly dressed like she's ready to jump in at a moment's notice, dressed in full paladin armor and with her bayard held at the ready in her offhand.]
[She also has a secret weapon, as the appointed referee: The controls to the nullification. An emergency switch, one that can shut down the entire fight immediately. It's not sitting in her hand, as if to provide visible proof that she's not playing with them now. But it's also not far from her, sitting on a box that's been repurposed as a desk.]
[Hopefully, none of any of this equipment will be necessary, because...] As long as you're not planning anything underhanded, the only thing I should need to do is provide medical attention after this is settled.
[Once Darin settles this, at least. But she's actually trying to play the role of the impartial referee, which means no baiting Guzma with her own comments.]
[Instead, she'll have to settle for thinking them really hard.]
no subject
[Guzma was a big man. He hid it well with his baggy clothes, but Darin could tell. He'd seen the way he moved, the way he planted himself firmly on the ground and you don't do that without a certain weight, a certain gravity to your self. Not to mention that the man was a even a couple of inches taller than Darin, and with the latter capping off at about 6'3" that's pretty impressive. Guzma's an intimidating man.]
[But it wasn't the man's size that pissed Darin off. It's the way he looked down at Darin's own life, the way he made light of his own quest to master his own strength. Today wasn't about winning. It was about making Guzma realize that he's not some special snowflake. That his hardships could have been felt by anybody and that his twisted worldview is just a flimsy rationale for making poor, stupid choices.]
[As Guzma enters the ring, Darin stands up and shrugs off his own obi. He tosses his vest aside and peels off the black undershirt. Next come the shining mithril bracers over his forearms. Finally, he kicks off his boots and socks leaving him in nothing but his pants.]
[He turns and reaches behind his perch to receive a collar; a specially made nullifier meant to go around his neck so as not to hinder his arms in any way. When he turns, Guzma should be able to get a look at a wicked scar staring just to the side of his neck and moving diagonal across his back. Guzma's likely no stranger to scars, so he should be able to surmise that whatever made that should probably have cut him in two pieces.]
[Nullifier locked in place, he makes his way to the center of their little ring and waits. And when Guzma approaches, he holds out a hand. For all of this pomp and circumstance, and let's be honest, it totally is, Guzma agreed to this and has lived up to his side of the agreement. Not only that, he sees this as a competition and if that's the case, the least he can offer the man before they start is a handshake. He'll leave the mention of the rules to Allura.]
no subject
I ain't needin' your charity, but don't worry, I ain't gonna do nothing sketch, Princess. I'm here to win this, not lose by disqualification.
[It's not that he doesn't recognize Darin's power—he does. If he didn't, he wouldn't be goading him as much as he does, wouldn't be challenging him, attacking him like he has. To put it plainly: Guzma's threatened by Darin, and what do animals do when they feel threatened? Either they run away, or they attack. Guzma's done plenty of both in his life, however he's more inclined to the latter, than the former. Anymore, that is.
After all, he has more at stake than he did when he was a child running from home. He's got an image to uphold, one that begets a unity that he's otherwise lacked. So too the same for those under his charge. To run away would shatter all plausible deniability of his cowardice, and to lose (again) would continue to tarnish his claim to being the strongest. A comforting delusion he and his rely upon a little too much, but the world certainly seems a lot less terrifying when you think you've got the biggest stick in the room.
With his hoodie, glasses, chain, watch, and bracelets removed, safely stashed off to the side of the ring, Guzma makes his way in. He's not too sure what to make of Darin's silence, nor the way he holds himself. Watching with careful scrutiny as Darin likewise dresses down. He does take note of that scar, his stern expression shifting for a moment into something brushing the likeness of thoughtful and contemplative, before seemingly ignoring it altogether.
Unstrapping his velcro shoes, he takes them and his socks off as well, then his own muscle shirt follows to join the rest of his stuff on the side. It's almost comical how much Darin and Guzma are alike, even in ways of body—both similar in their muscular build, though as mentioned Guzma has a couple inches in height on him, but so too are the worst of their scars on their back. Guzma's got some notable ones elsewhere, to be sure, like the scars on his forehead which were a result from one of his many self-destructive tantrums.
Actually, he's quite peppered with various scars, most of them one could assume were from years of wrangling Pokémon, or other myriad mishaps. It's not like Guzma's a careful dude, his anger getting the better of him often, which leads to a lot of self-inflicted injuries. However, there's one set on his upper back that look a little too uniform for comfort. Similarly aged, similarly formed, as if something specific created each one, even if not at the same time. No where near as fatal as the scar Darin bears, yet still telling of something from Guzma's earlier years.
With Darin in the middle, Guzma soon joins him, though he eyes his hand with a derisive sort of stare. For a moment, it almost looks as though he might not shake it, and for that moment he heavily considers not. In the end, he decides he may as well, gripping Darin's hand with a needlessly firm and painful grip, locking eyes with him as he furrows his brow. Guzma likewise smirks at Darin, looking pretty damn enthused about this, and even as Allura goes to say the rules, he never breaks eye contact]
no subject
[That's a genuine question. She's not about to start explaining the rules while these two are still getting undressed, and... well, there's actually quite a lot of that going on. Maybe it's a good thing that this isn't being done somewhere that fans could see what was happening, given the amount of clothes that are coming off.]
[... in fact. She turns to her robot lion.] Blue, go and patrol the perimeter. If there's any emergency, come and get us. Otherwise, don't allow any non-imPorts to approach, all right?
[And with a growl of affirmation, the beast runs off. And Allura returns her focus to the two men. She holds out her bayard in one hand, and summons a weapon — not her usual whip, but a traditional Altean glaive, with a long handle and a thin blade like a spear's tip. With a flourish, she brings it back to her side.]
[Congratulations, you're getting some Royal Altean Battle Regulations.]
This will be a fight to the finish, not to the death. The fight will be over when one of you cannot move, or when you throw yourself down in merciful surrender before your opponent.
Until then, you will not dishonor your opponent with anything less than your best. You will fight with all your might, holding back only to avoid the eyes, throat, and salggic pouch.
[Since neither of you have one of those, that should be easy.]
This is a challenge of physical skill only. No weapons, whether brought or improvised, will be permitted in the hands of the competitors. No supernatural abilities will be permitted, either. No one can assist you until you have given your surrender.
If either of you breaks these conditions, or otherwise goes against the spirit of the challenge, it will be seen as your immediate forfeit. I will terminate the challenge, and if need be, I will make you pay penance to your opponent.
[She holds out the glaive. Sharp side of the blade down, towards the ground.]
This is your final chance to refuse the challenge. Otherwise, place your hand on this weapon, and swear to it.
no subject
[Darin is the first to place his hand upon the flat of the glaive.]
I hereby swear upon this glaive to honor both my opponent and the nature of this challenge.
[He eyes Guzma, a glint of excitement in his green eyes. This was abut to get interesting and Darin could already feel his blood start to boil.]
no subject
Though, he has to wonder what the fuck a salgicc pouch is. This honestly raises a lot of questions about Allura, all of which are dismissed because that's hardly what matters right now. Maybe he'll find out later, but for now, he's here to fight Darin, not ask about Allura's alien anatomy.
Though, honestly...he feels a touch ridiculous swearing upon anything. He's not one to do something of that sort, but he knows this'll end right quick if he doesn't. With a dismissive shrug, he places his hand on the glaive.]
I swear I'll play by your rules, won't go pullin' no shady shit, won't go trashin' the nature of this thing, yo.
[Look, if you thought for a single instant that Guzma was going to say something more ceremoniously formal, then I don't know what to tell you. However, for as dismissive as he seems about this whole thing, there's a similar excitement to his eyes as he looks to Darin, that grin preserving. He's ready to get this on, to fight Darin fully and truly to their personal capability.
He could already feel that all too familiar rush that gets his blood pumping. Hell, he hasn't been this excited about a match in a long, long time. Even his previous fights with Darin were more spur of the moment, than something so planned out and formal. The extra edge of danger, that it's fully on him to win it, merely pushes this feeling further.]
no subject
[With the glaive still held in one hand... in the other, she holds up the control for Darin's nullifier. Out in the open, where Guzma can see, she activates it. And watches to see that it powers up completely, snuffing out the power of Diomuhr within him. On the nullifying collar, there's a ring of light that slowly fills in, spiraling like the Helix Station where it came from — and once the ring is complete, it turns red, with a click that sounds like a lock being closed.]
[With that, Allura sets the controls down again.]
Then ready yourselves!
[She backs off, and watches to see if they're adjusting their position before the fight. Once she's satisfied, she gives an even greater dramatic flourish of the glaive..]
And... begin!
no subject
[To Darin, it was like someone shrunk his lungs. His breaths were shallower, he was beginning to sweat, like something was choking the life out of him slowly. His body felt heavy. It's like when you know you're getting sick, you can feel the fever start to take hold. The air hurts.]
[Nonetheless, Darin takes a step back before the fight begins and settles into a tight, almost flawless defensive stance; a testament to the amount of physical training and sparring he's done against professional warriors. He sincerely doubts Guzma has any formal training...it just didn't suit the guy. But that didn't mean he didn't know how to move. He wrangled super monsters for most of his life, the guy was bound to be able to hold his own. Darin runs down a list of targets, of ways Guzma could attempt to sway the fight in his favor. Which joints he might go for, what vulnerabilities he might exploit. Honestly, the biggest factor was time. Darin didn't know how long he had before de-powering him would prove to be too dangerous.]
[If Guzma even had a strategy, it was to draw this out. Then again, knowing him, the only thing Guzma had in mind was making this as big a show of force as possible. What good did it do him if he dragged this out and beat Darin at his weakest? That wouldn't prove anything and they both knew it.]
[No, they were both going to go loud and hard, and since Guzma loved First Impression so much, Darin was eager to give his own.]
[The second Allura starts the fight, Darin snaps forward, leaning into a right straight aimed right for Guzma's face. And while it doesn't have his demonic strength behind it, it does have the force of a man who spent the last fifteen years pounding steel into whatever shape he demanded of it. Darin's out for First Blood.]
no subject
Likewise, as Allura backed up to give them space to resettle themselves before the announced start, Guzma takes a step back to give the both of them some space, but his eyes never leave Darin. Watching for any movement, any give away of what he might do. If he'll pull the first move, or if he'll wait for Guzma to do it. Unlike Darin, Guzma doesn't strike a fighting stance, looking almost too casual for what's about to go down, standing at his full height at least, no slouching as per usual.
Darin's stance is a little much, he thinks, but that's just how Darin is, huh? Idly he muses over the idea that Darin might have been a fighting-type specialist, or maybe with his love for smithing, a steel-type—maybe a mix of the two were he of Guzma's world. Either way, the thought is gone as quickly as it surfaced. Particularly when he hears Allura starts the match, and he sees Darin's movement.
It's not that Guzma's never formally been trained, in fact he has some training from his time under Hala, but that was ages ago, and his style has changed quite a bit. Far more chaotic, than structured, but still powerful, even if scrappy. Using his honed reflexes from both training overpowered beasts, and breakdancing, as well as the strength that goes into both, he's definitely more than a handful for most—at least, when it comes to those who aren't super powered, at least.
Even now it aids him, as that fist comes soaring at him with incredible force and speed. It doesn't make its mark, however, because Guzma drops down into crouch, using his arms to stabilize as well as the momentum to sweep a kick out at Darin's legs. The master of First Impression knows how to handle it, knows what to look for, dodge it, so maybe trying to pull one on him isn't the best strategy, but Guzma appreciates the easy in.]
no subject
[These were warning shots across the bow. They both knew it. They were sizing each other up like any other professional fighter. Darin testing to see if Guzma was on the level with not using his powers along with his reflexes while Guzma clearly trying to see just how much of Darin's ability had suffered when the collar activated.]
[Darin can't resist the urge to laugh.]
Interesting. Never thought I'd get to see a serious side of you. Kinda wish we'd have just done this sooner.
[He knows things are about to erupt any second now, so he settles back into his stance and starts to circle.]
Where'd you learn a move like that, ah?
no subject
Who's being serious, huh?
[He knows he is, but we all know Guzma's gotta be contrary. As Darin circles, Guzma...doesn't move. He stays still, watching him and waiting.]
Just 'cos I'm a Pokémon trainer ain't mean I don't know how to fight, yo. I've had my fair share of tussles. [He gestures at himself, as if presenting those scars that pepper him as trophies of such,] 'Sides, what kinda trainer would I be if I didn't learn a thing or two watchin' them dudes brawl, nor havin' my own brawl with 'em, right?
You can't match the speed of a Pokémon, not with the way you are now.
[Still Guzma doesn't move, waiting and watching. This is a different side to Guzma, because he's not mad, he's actually in a great mood right now. His impulses aren't firing off, clouding his judgment. But this sentinel approach is entirely an act of challenge. He knows the usual is to circle with the opponent, to follow that sort of unspoken rule to maintain distance, but he refuses.
He knows he's quick, knows he can likely dodge or redirect what Darin throws his way, it's all a matter of being able to read his movements and catch it in time. An almost defensive sort of fighting, but that aligns pretty well with his style, huh? He might be a Bug-type specialist, but his favorite moves are Dark-type for a reason.]
no subject
[Which is why, with Guzma standing tall, defiant, and unmoving, Darin decides he's going to show him the results of his own training. Sparring with the best knights in Alvale, taking lessons from their captain, his good and loyal friend Kessler, sparring hand to hand with Iris while learning to master his body and his emotions on his long journey. Even without his powers, he'd be a force to be reckoned with.]
[When Darin steps in, he leads with a one-two-three combo of two jabs and a straight. Without his demonic speed and strength, they don't have the stopping power or even the blinding speed they normally would have, but his precision and technique speak volumes. There's no wasted movement. He doesn't concern himself with whether or not a strike connects or not, he's moving on to the next attack in a long string. A flurry of body blows follow as Darin keeps moving, weaving to Guzma's side.]
I know that...but unlike you, I don't focus on what I can't do!!
no subject
With Darin's assault, Guzma's able to block the first two, but he just narrowly misses blocking the last. Fortunately that failed block does assist in deflecting some of the blow, leaving it to glance off of his shoulder, instead of hitting him more squarely in the chest. Guzma uses that, uses the momentum it gives his body to swing a punch at Darin's side as he tries to weave around Guzma.]
Rrgh! Is that—what you think I do!?
[It's said with a growl, and regardless if his first swing hits or not, he uses the other to swing a hook at Darin's face, leaving himself a little open for a hit, but he figures it's worth the sacrifice.]
no subject
[It's will versus will.]
[That hook smashes Darin's face, snapping it back, almost sending him back pedaling. But he plants his rear foot hard with a satisfying thwack and steamrolls forward, green eyes positively blazing.]
Why else would you choose to be the villain then?! You can't hide it from me, Guzma! I've seen your better side! Your pokémon are living proof! Hell, Team Skull is proof! You had a choice! And that's what pisses me off!
[Using his forward momentum, Darin leaps and brings his heel around in a devastating roundhouse kick.]
no subject
It's an ugly mix of truths, both that Guzma had chose to give up after trying so hard to fit in, to be part of the thing he so loved; and yet he didn't choose to have everything that was tossed his way. Everything that wore him down, left him jaded and tired. What molded him to be an ill fit, what ruined him before he even had a proper chance.
That kick hits, his thoughts distracting him a bit too much to properly anticipate it, and when he does it's too late. His arms not raising fast enough, and the heel connects with his chest, harsh and unforgiving. It sends Guzma backwards, only catching himself barely before the edge of the ring, a painful wheeze leaving him as his hand holds the stricken spot, his dark eyes meeting with and glaring into Darin's own.
When he speaks, it's clear that hit did some damage with how airy his voice is. The wheeze to his words.]
Yeah, you're right about one thing...
I chose to be the bad dude I am. It don't matter what my options were, huh? But—[HUFF]—if I focused only on what I couldn't do, then I wouldn't be big bad Guzma, now would I?!
[With that spat out, he takes the opportunity of strength he's regained to charge forward, aiming to grapple Darin around the waist. Should his hold find purchase, he'll absolutely follow up with a back body drop.]
I'd just be doin' the same thing! Over, and over again—failing and gettin' no where! I choose to be more than that!
no subject
[He hits the floor hard, and the thick collar around his neck doesn't exactly make the fall better. It's like having a brace around his neck, and when he comes down, there's an audible, almost sickening crack.]
[But Guzma's words light a fire in him. Something personal.]
So you just—hngh—just gave up?! You chose to become the bad guy because you didn't think you could do better otherwise?!
[Darin breaks whatever hold Guzma has on him and rolls away, quickly planting his feet under him and using the upward momentum he would gain by standing to instead, launch himself right back at Guzma. It was his turn to grapple, but instead of tossing him down like Guzma did, he wants to hold him in place. To get a good look at Guzma and force him to meet him eye-to-eye.]
Why would you do that?! By choosing this you're just validating them! All the bad things they said, you're just proving them right! Doesn't that piss you off?!
no subject
With that move executed, and Darin breaking free, Guzma's barely gotten time to rise, or even fully process what he's said, before Darin's upon him. He struggles, but Darin's got too good of a hold on him, and he gets what he wants: eye contact. He's scowling at him, but there's more than just anger behind his eyes, a swirl of conflicted emotions.]
Fuck yeah it does!
[He growls out, as he struggles more, trying to break from Darin's grapple as he twists, but he maintains that eye contact.]
But you can fuck off, I didn't just quit! But after a decade of being beat down by traditions that you can't adhere to, being treated like a stranger in your own home—familiar faces staring through you like you're nothing!?
Damn right I ain't gonna stand for that shit—and if that means validating what they think of me—fine, fuck it! At least they'd have a damn reason to hate me, to make me and mine outcasts to their fucked up little society!
[Of course it's deeper than that, deeper than merely filling that role. It's about destroying the very thing that destroyed him. That broken him further than he was already broken. The very last shred of hope he had, being ripped from him because of things outside of his control.
Support that his community failed to give him, the help that he needed, because he was too damaged to fit their perfect picturesque idea of paradise.]
no subject
[Screw hitting him, Darin just pivots him and tosses him across to the other end of the ring. But he doesn't follow up with a barrage of attacks. Instead, he stands his ground and does one of the one things Guzma can't stand.]
[He looks down at him.]
You parade around acting like you've got it all figured out when all you did was cave in and gave those people more reason to hate, more reason to bury their heads in the sand! You don't like the traditions?! Then change them! Change people's minds! I can't believe someone as strong as you would just...give in! All you're doing is insure that people fight back with as much tenacity as you're rolling with! Two wrongs don't make a right, Guzma!
no subject
[Just as she's been tasked, Allura is watching this match without interfering, not even speaking up. And so she intends to until it's over, or until a line is crossed that requires her mediation. From what she's seen so far, it doesn't look as though that's going to happen.]
[So she finds herself wondering if the two men, when they agreed to this fight, knew that they would end up screaming their feelings at each other between punches.]
[It's not surprising, at least not to her. There were so many reasons that the Altean people so proudly upheld their warrior traditions, even despite their goals of intergalactic peace and collaboration. One was that it tapped into some of the deepest parts of the self, the principles so innate in one's psyche that could sway even the fight-or-flight instincts.]
[So, it seems natural to her. As if part of their minds have shut down, letting something more raw and honest take control. Even their words show something that would normally be obscured by layers of... well, bullshit.]
[Fascinating or not, though, she's going to keep all this to herself. Not just because she's avoiding any interference, but because she's sure Guzma would hate the thought of someone analyzing him like this. She's not even sure if Darin would appreciate it.]
no subject
His hands ball into fists, and he grits his teeth into a snarl as Darin continues. Still Darin doesn't get it, and for some reason that frustrates Guzma. For all he's been hell bent on maintaining that Darin does not and could not understand him or what he's come from, somehow he's shifted. In this moment, he wants him to understand, wants him to fully get why Guzma is the way he is. That it's not as simple as just doing good, as being the bigger person!]
You think I ain't all knowin' that shit!?
[He stays put, but boy is he gesturing rather erratically as he talks, basically roaring out his reply.]
Those fools ain't gonna realize what wrong they did us! They ain't willin' to see it! So I'll make 'em! I'll make 'em see what they created, what they done made me into! They wanna ignore me, cast me aside like I ain't nothin' but smoke to be scatterin' to the Alolan winds?!
[At that, Guzma chuckles, but there's no humor to it, it's hollow and angry. The grin that follows after the laughter dies down is similar. He stands up more fully, puffing his chest as he jabs an accusing finger at Darin.]
If they wanted to be rid of the smoke, they shoulda put the fire out at its start! What was once embers from them burnin' me, now's a roaring inferno, and big bad Guzma's gonna destroy everything they hold dear! He won't just be changing those dusty ol' traditions, he'll be wreckin' 'em, and a soft-hearted idiot who was handed everything like you, ain't capable of understanding the necessity of their absolute fuckin' DESTRUCTION!
[Guzma holds his ground as he belts out his retort, and in this instance it's like only he and Darin exist. He's completely forgotten about Allura, and had he remembered, he might not be saying as much as he is. But there's been such a build up between him and Darin, such insurmountable frustration, that at this point he doesn't care. He's going to let it out, regardless of what good it'll do.
He's not even sure if there's anything productive to come from it, but goddamn if it ain't cathartic to finally let it out like this. Speaking of...]
There ain't no more playin' nice! No more playin' by no one's rules! It's destroy or be destroyed, and your boy's done being beat down! He's done being conquered! He's gonna crush anyone or anything in his way, YO!
no subject
[Darin similarly stands to his full height, glaring down that accusatory finger like it were the lance that Guzma kept using to spear him in the ribs.]
[And that's when Darin's voice turns dark.]
You think you know what destruction is...?
You're surrounded by kids. [He practically spits the word as he takes a step forward. Even with his powers sealed, there's an alarming weight, like a hurricane rolling in off the coast.]
Kids and thugs and idiots that don't know a damn thing about destruction. Tradition cast you aside? People didn't like you because you didn't fit in?
Grow the fuck up.
The only thing I've been handed is a power no person should ever be saddled with. It cost me my mother, when the sheer act of being born stole her life. It cost me my father and my brother who died trying to protect me from demons trying to murder me in some...fucked up bid for power! And it cost me my brother a second time when those same bastards gave him new life after torturing his soul and turning him into a country crushing murderer! At five I was orphaned and no one wanted me. I was a cursed child! Destined to bring ruin to any family that might have taken me in! At five I was a pariah because they thought I was a monster! You seem to understand what it feels like to be hated and looked down on. Now imagine you have the power of a god you never wanted and then learned you were meant to destroy everything you ever knew and loved! Your pokémon? DEAD. Your precious team? DEAD. The fact that you exist us a blight on the world and everyone believes they'd be better off if you were never born!
[That thunderstorm rolls in until that accusatory finger is pressed right into Darin's bare chest.]
And yet you think I'm out on some...quest...to be universally accepted? To be some...hero that everyone loves that fits comfortably into the norms set by others?
Maybe once upon a time I wanted that. To be a knight. To be a hero just like all of the other great warriors of Alvale...but that's not who I am. That's not what you think I am!!
[Each step looks like he's trudging, but not because of the nullifier on his neck. In fact, this might be the most fire Guzma's seen in him since the fight began. Slowly, deliberately, he marches on Guzma.]
I'M NOT JUST SOME KID TRYING TO PLAY HERO!! I'VE FOUGHT MY ENTIRE LIFE TO GET PEOPLE TO SEE THAT WHO I AM AND WHAT THEY BELIEVE ME TO BE ARE WRONG AND YOU'RE NO EXCEPTION! I'M GONNA FORGE MY OWN PATH WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS!
[Darin's hand snaps up and grabs Guzma's extended arm by the wrist, pulling it away so he can close the distance further. Get right up into the man's face.]
I AM DARIN ALTWAY AND I'M GONNA BE THE HERO THAT I WANT TO BE!! I'LL BREAK THE MOLD, FIND MY OWN PATH, AND TEAR DOWN EVERY OTHER CONVENTION!! I'LL FIGHT ANYONE WHO TRIES TO TELL ME WHO AND WHAT I AM BE IT MAN, GOD, OR FATE!!
And you will never tear me down. Because like it or not?
I choose to be better. No one can change you Guzma, except you.
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He even chuckles again, just laughs in Darin's face, basically.]
That's rich.
[His volume is low and even. A strange sort of calmness. A stark contrast to the thunderous storm they both were brewing before. Perhaps they're merely in the eye of it...]
You talk about your power like it's a great burden, and I get that—we're similar in that way—yet it's why you can become the hero you choose to be. It's why you can topple the insurmountable, why you can do what you do. Why you got the freedom you got.
Not everyone's got that. Some people lose everything, and they ain't given nothin' for it. You wanna talk about being hated? Tch! You had someone who took you in, who was willing to understand you—help you—get you to where you are.
Don't act like for a fuckin' second you were ever on your own.
[He tilts his head, cocking it in a manner that's more mocking than not. Yet his voice is still calm and even. Like the surface of a lake, than the warring rapids it was before.]
You're good enough, loved enough, and you ain't got nothin' wrong with you—but what about those who ain't, those who do got something wrong with 'em, huh? You sure seem bothered by them kids I took in, the ones who ain't got it in 'em to fight the real fight, the ones I do the fight for. If you think for a damn second they are the destruction I'm bringing, then you're a damn fool!
[Guzma shakes his head, his shoulders bouncing with another small bout of laughter. His teeth flash with the smirk that never seems to leave his features for long, despite how angry he might be.]
You wanna preach at me about being the hero you choose to be? [Guzma does a pointed sizing up of Darin, his eyes looking him up and down quickly, before coming back to get in his face again.] Funny how perspective works, 'cos where I'm standin', you ain't nothin' more than a villain—!
[That placidity and calmness comes to an end as Guzma's hands quickly grab at Darin's head, before he crashes his forehead right into his with absolutely no restraint.]
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Yeah, I was lucky! In a world of billions of people, I managed get taken in by one person with a heart! But you can't tell me that everyone in the world turned their back on you! You can't! What about your master?!
And you think I wasn't alone? You think I was just surrounded by people just like me?! The only person who knew what it was like to be me, to be a freak got cut in half protecting me! I may have been adopted but the only person who knew what it was like to be me was me!
[Blurry vision or not, Darin begins unleashing punch after punch with abandon. Straight, hooks, body blows, it didn't matter. For every strike he took, Darin returned.]
You act like such a godsdamned martyr! Even now you got people reaching out to you and you slap their hands away for the sake of a bullshit narrative! If I'm a villain, it's because you're just playing because you refuse to see there's another side to things!
You don't have to be stronger! You don't have to be better!
IT'S NOT ABOUT WINNING OR LOSING! IT'S ABOUT EMPATHY!!
We're just gonna keep matching icons aren't we?
His anger fuels him, his body moving more on instinct than anything deeper. Reaction and whim fueling those blocks, propelling those punches. Hooks and jabs, similar to Darin, weaving between assaulting limbs as he strikes at openings that his body seems more aware of than he is. His brain more fully engaged by the raw emotion he's feeling, and the words that continue to invoke them.]
My—master?! Tch! He ain't no better than—Rgh—the rest of 'em! Always tryin' to sell me that same rotten garbage—he didn't understand shit! He knew what I needed—but just like the rest of 'em, he turned his back on me!
[That's...not entirely accurate, but it is from Guzma's perspective. That Hala would train him, mentor him as he did, yet could not find the means to help him heal from what he was made to suffer at his father's hands. It made him unfit for captain, but instead of Hala helping him overcome this, he passed the opportunity off to someone else. A nuanced decision that a hurting child couldn't understand, a betrayal that cut far deeper than Hala might have anticipated.
A wound that still festered, like those that were made by the hands of his father. Those that would continue to burn with infectious hatred as he would continue to fail, time and time again, because he wasn't a good fit, and because no one would help him, his anger proportionately worsened. What was once love, twisted and broke, turning into nothing but hatred.
Each hit he makes and each hit he takes feels alien and distant as they continue to shout and yell at each other. As if the conversation was happening on a different plane altogether. The wear and tear on their bodies, as they collided with each others fists, felt numb to him. Like each painful strike was nothing but white noise in the face of their argument.]
You're wrong—it's always about winnin' or losin'! It's always about being stronger! The weak—the empathetic—get trampled, they get broken! You say I got—Ghhk!
[He gets cut off when one of those fists hits him sharply in the rib, an uncomfortable crack could be heard, but beyond that momentary delay...Guzma keeps going strong, even attempting to hook a leg around one of Darin's as he attempts to grapple his arms, despite that worrying wheeze to his breathing.]
—You—[wheeze]—you say I got people reachin' out, but only a dumbass would believe—[HUFF]—any of that! I ain't fool 'nough to trust that shit! Let your guard down, trust anyone who's got the power to do ya dirty—hhhh—they will! Don't matter who they are!
[He spits out the next bit without thinking, there's too much going on. His head is pounding, his lungs are burning, and the battery of all those punches are starting to catch up with him.]
A hard lesson learned by my old man, and it ain't one I'll ever forget!
It's how we show the world they're the same kind of idiot
It's true, same idiot, different shipping and handling
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