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It's late. Late enough that the streets only have the occasional person wandering along and car passing by.
The alley would be dark, if it wasn't for the Bright One lighting it up with a dim neon yellow-green glow. Easy enough for a fellow Lost to spot if they're wandering by.
Lux is delicately balanced on a trash can, weight shifted so it doesn't go toppling over. Eyes focused on the wall in front of them, holding a spray paint can in one hand that they're using to mark the dirty wall with bright neon orange paint, that seems florescent when lit by Lux's lights.
As luck would have it, the Ogre wanders by. His dingy coat flapping, shoulders hunched; he has a habit of trying to make himself smaller as he wanders among others. He hikes a ragged backpack up on his shoulders as he stalks the sidewalk, and when he reaches the mouth of the alley, he slows. Stops. That glow is familiar and terribly compelling for all the worst reasons.
Lux hears the sound of footsteps stopping, and it's enough to pull them out of their thoughts, glancing over--two bright tiny beacons in the shadows staring at him. The last time he saw them they were a vibrant viridian green, not yellow-green, but... their face hasn't changed that much, backlit by their neon lights.
Gallowglass - the real face - hasn't changed in form nor function. Except, of course, that this time, in this place, he vibrates with rage at the sight of the familiar little glowworm. He unshoulders his backpack and lets it drop with a thud, and offers the only sort of greeting he can muster at the sight of an old friend. "Mother fucker."
Lux blinks, the eye lights flicker-flickering on and off. "...Whoa, man, what..." They hop down gracefully off of the trashcan, taking a couple steps backwards from him, brows knitting together. "What's your problem?"
"You." He jabs a thick finger at Lux, taking one step forward. "You are. I'd know that light and that...fucking...face of yours anywhere."
Lux takes another step back, their eyes going wide with fear, the lights brightening and pulsing. "You... you're..."
They swallow, hands lifting, palms visible. "Look--I'm sorry--I--I can't even begin to apologize properly, but, please... I'm not that person anymore!"
Are they? They do have the smell of an Oath-Breaker on them. The Wyrd practically screams that they can't be trusted.
The scowl across his brow deepens, settling into his features. "Bullshit," he spits back. "You smell like lies; ain't nothin' new for you." He takes another step, fists clenched. "Who did you hurt?"
Lux's mantle flares, an icy chill with a flash of white light, like sunlight reflecting off of a snowbank. Their face hardens, but the pain there is obvious. "That's... none of your fucking business," they mutter softly. "I'm a member of Shackamaxon. You can't kill me without making yourself an Oath-Breaker. Otherwise? Go on. Hit me if it'll make you feel better."
That definitely gives him pause; if there's anything he's utterly loyal to, it's the Freehold. He exhales slowly through his nose. "I don't want to kill you," Gallowglass mutters, exhaling again. "I wouldn't break any oath over you. You ruined my life enough."
The Bright One flinches, looking away from him. Their arms cross over their chest tightly. "...Offers still there. I'd deserve it."
Gallowglass cocks his head, mulling it over; his mouth purses thoughtfully. "You'd just let me hit you?"
They stare at the wall beside them, where they had started spray painting. "Figure I owe you that, at least."
"What, I break your jaw and then we hug? Everything even-fuckin'-Steven?" The ogre sneers, closing in on them. "Do you really think that would begin to clear your ledger?"
"...Didn't think there'd be any hugging involved," the Bright One mutters. Their head lifts to look up at him as he steps in, arms uncrossing--then spreading in a welcoming gesture. Their face goes cold and challenging. "No. No amount of punching me is going to do that, but I know you want to hurt me. Go on. Just fucking do it."
There is perhaps a familiar cold electronic static and warbling that comes into their voice, towards the end, like their voice had been autotuned and manipulated by a computer, but still oddly compelling. The tone of voice he'd heard often.
He juts his jaw, arms folding. "Th'fuck are you tryin' t'say? That I don't hug?" Gallowglass jabs a finger in Lux's chest. "I hug. I'm a goddamn beacon of emotional support, you little shit."
At that high-pitched whine, Gallowglass' features go slack for a long, vacuous moment. He growls, grabbing Lux by the shirt to haul them towards him. "Don't do that," he growls. "Do not use that voice on me."
Lux just stares up at the giant, almost... disappointed? at first. But then they're being jerked in, and they stumble a moment as they're hauled--they're light enough that it's easy. Their eyes go wide, then flinch, looking to the side guiltily. "Sorry," Lux whispers, the electronic warble fading.
He stares at the Bright One through narrowed eyes, studying - and then abruptly releases them. He doesn't shove or jostle them; he sets them on their Darkling feet with a mockery of reverence, even smoothing the shoulders of their shirt. "I'm not gonna hit you," he drawls, shaking his head. "You want it too bad. If nothing else, it brings me joy t'watch you suffer, and even more t'refuse what your orders. You keep it up and I'm gonna have to go Spring."
The call out hit home, as Lux recoils just as much as if he had hit them. Their lips purse and twist, taking a few steps back from him and not meeting his eyes. "Fuck you," they mutter.
"Fuck you," he replies, with a pleased gleam to his features. "What'd you do t'stink like betrayal?"
Lux turns away from him, shoulders tensed, reaching down to snatch up the spray paint can they'd dropped. They climb back up onto the trash can to continue spraying out lines of color, their expression icy now. "Broke a promise."
Big Red leans against the brick wall to watch them work, arms folding across his brawny chest. "Why?"
"None of your fucking business," they snap.
"Someone you didn't mean to, then," he decides, cocking his head. "Or it mattered to you that you did it."
Lux doesn't immediately reply, the only sound coming from the can--sprrrrst sprrst. "Why are you still here? Just to get pleasure from fucking with me?"
"I mean," he replies, pausing. "..Yeah. Ain't like I gotta get back to Netflix."
Their eyes roll. "What'd you name yourself?"
"Gallowglass. You?"
"Lux." Which is what the Bright One is spray painting--LUX in blocky stylized letters. Vain much?
He snorts. "You gotta be shittin' me. I ain't callin' you that."
"Fine, then don't," Lux replies, pulling on an air of 'I don't give a shit'. Because fuck if they're going to let this Ogre WIN. :angry:
"Fine, I won't," Gallowglass snaps. Because fuck if he's going to let his programmer WIN. "I'm gonna call you...uh...call you..."
Lux doesn't look back at him, staring at the tag a moment before adding some more sprsts here and there. Deeming it finished enough, Lux hops back down off of the trash can and tucks the can away into their backpack.
Gallowglass shoves off the wall to look up at Lux's work, nose wrinkling. "What's it for? You tagging?"
They shrug, still avoiding looking at him direction. They shoulder the backpack. "Depends on what I'm doing. Most of my work is political. Inspiring people to fight back. Sometimes I just like adding color to the city."
"You inspire people to fight back?" The Ogre doesn't sound so sure; he glances up at the mural once more. "Against what?"
"This doesn't. This is just... fucking around. I'm bored." Their shoulders lift. "Fighting corporations. Shitty politicians. Greedy rich people." Their thumbs hook around the backpack straps, kicking at a bit of broken concrete. "People who try to take rights and power from others."
That draws back his scowl like thunderclouds, his brawny arms folding across his chest. "Bullshit," he murmurs, one brow rising. "You do that?"
Their eyes narrow to glowing slits, finally looking back at him. "I don't have to prove shit to you. Believe it or not--I don't give a shit."
"Yeah you do," he snaps. "You give a shit, and yeah - you have a lot to prove." He advances on the Darkling again, jabbing a thick finger in their chest. "You owe that proof and a fuck of a lot more. I ain't got no reason t'gild your shit just because you say it. Ain't like I can believe anythin' you say. I believe you do it, but that you do it so you can feel better about what a fuck you are." Strangely, the Ogre seems affected by this abuse he's hurling; his shoulders hunch, and something turns dim in his gaze.
When Gallowglass reaches out to jab, Lux's hand snaps to slap his away--apparently the offer of violence has passed.
Gallowglass' words sting deep, and for a second or two they stand very, very still before their gaze lifts to look up coldly, meeting his eyes, their own honing in with laser focus. Sort of literally. "You don't know shit about me," they say coldly, managing to keep the raw shame and hate out of their voice.
Gallowglass brings his face level with Lux's, almose nose-to-nose. "I know everything about you," he drawls, almost a whisper. "I know you like I know myself. You know it. I know it. Cut the shit."
Nothing slips from Lux's expression, still cold and hard--but with a blur of movement, leaving a streak of yellow-green light through the air, their hand snaps up to slap him across the face. Hard. Well. Hard for someone with no fighting skills. Stings, but no real damage.
It's instant reaction, almost a reflex; his jaw hasn't even snapped to one side before Gallowglass retaliates. His right fist is cocked and slamming into Lux's jaw; he doesn't pull the punch, letting the full force of Ogre brawn and Summer wrath unload.
Lux didn't even try to move out of the way. But... well. Maybe they should have.
They end up flat on their back, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of them. They wheeze in surprise and pain, too dazed by the blow to even think about moving immediately.
Gallowglass drops to an easy crouch, hands dangling between his knees. "You get that out of your system, or you need another round?"
Lux whimpers--they're a fucking baby when it comes to physical pain, apparently, despite having been baiting him. They roll slowly onto their side, hand cupping over their jaw--which is going to have some nasty bruising. There's already some blueish tinge coming into their dark skin, and their lip is split and dripping a little blue-black blood that glows like a blacklight. "I... I'm... good," they mutter softly.
No matter how angry he is, he's still crouched there, watching a member of the Freehold, his only home, suffer. And he hates it. Gallowglass grumbles, muttering, and eventually a grubby, faded-gray handkerchief is thrust out to the darkling.
The handkerchief isn't taken. "Don't need your pity," Lux mutters, slowly pushing themself up to their feet, hand still holding their jaw.
"It ain't pity," he retorts, still holding out the handkerchief. "You're a piece of shit, but you're our piece a'shit. You belong t'my home, even if you're a fuckup traitor. So wipe your goddamn face." He gives them a mocking grin. "Unless you want me t'do it for you."
The mocking grin makes their lips twist into a bitter scowl. They suck in their lip briefly, then spit back out the blood into his face before turning on their heel to start walking off.
"THAT'S A BIOHAZARD," He calls after Lux. He sniffs his own handkerchief, making a face, and uses it to gingerly wipe off his face. "I gotta wash my fuckin' handkerchiefs."
Lux lifts a hand to lift their middle finger back towards him, but unless Gallowglass is following, Lux continues to walk off.
Gallowglass lets them escape, for now. He wouldn't want to be rude.
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