#i played myself with feels here. ggs to me ig 😂

[iobartach]

@gazelessmenagerie [broly] asked; 🥦

pet my muse prompt (💀)

Each step is taken with caution, a slow sludging of forward movement that gains little attention as he makes way for the next selection of Gladiators to present themselves to the arena. Even from a distance, he can hear the jubilant shouts and whoops from the excited in-house Dreadzone crowd, paying spectators that were virtually chomping at the bit to see more competitors lose their lives, be it at the hands of an Exterminator - or each other.

The sound itself, whilst not deafening, carries far enough that it stays with him as he heads back in the direction of his assigned quarters. It's a pesky companion that, after a certain point, sends a jolt of awareness spreading throughout his towering form, successfully removing him from a state of dream-like consciousness as he's placed back in reality... and remembers what he's done: claws digging into alien flesh; bones popping out of alignment; fangs gnawing on the crown of a skull, seeking a vein, a means to win without--

A knee buckles beneath him, causing Miguel to reach for the wall next to him for support, unsheathed talons scoring its surface with frightening ease. Breathing quickly, chest rises and falls as he tries to ground himself, work through the maelstrom of feelings and instinct that had been brought to the surface by his forced participation in the day's scheduled trials. Compliance that was won not by fear, but instead by the threat of death.

Reminded of this fact, in his ailing state, red hues pinch shut as he brings his free hand towards his neck, risking fatal repercussions as tapered points find the lip of the blast collar that's firmly clamped around his neck. All it would take was a flex of tendon, and he would be free-- and, for all his arachnid reflexes, more than likely dead. Fortunately though, before he could spend any more time courting a grizzly end, closed lids are forced open, as distraction springs from an unexpected source. Someone was standing in the way.

Too lost in the whirlwind of his own thoughts to notice their arrival, bloodshot hues set their unsteady sights on the dark haired saiyan, their demeanour the portrait of calmness in comparison to his own. A recent acquaintance, the battle for their continued survival had seen them become allies, vowing to tear this place down around them once Vox was eliminated from the picture.

Not certain what to make of Broly's serene demeanour at first, Miguel, acting more on instinct than rational thought, retreats a half-step, tearing free the set of claws stuck in the wall to cover the void of his mouth with the back of a hand, concealing from view fangs that ached, that glistened with a trace of paralysing venom. Nothing about this encounter felt right or appropriate, not as he was right now, anyway. Too erratic to form a cohesive thought, Miguel's gaze darts from Broly to anywhere else, scouring for an escape route, for a place to retreat to until he finally calmed his pulse, came back to his senses... but it didn't seem to matter.

It didn't deter the other from approach, for reaching out for his face, damp with perspiration, thumbs pressing gently against Miguel's cheekbones as he cradles his head, fingers coming to rest in the dishevelled mess of chestnut coloured hair. The utmost care that's demonstrated proves to be a frightening gift at first, heightening Miguel's impulse to break the other's gentle hold, enforce his aversion to being touched. But, in a first, he stays put, eyes gradually widening as the panic that's been allowed to run rampant within him starts to settle, visage softening as stillness takes hold of him.

Within a matter of minutes, the terror that he had felt at being forced to attack and maim his opponents for the entertainment of the galactic masses relinquishes its hold on him, improving his disposition enough that he mimes a silent 'thank you' with his mouth, too spent to speak.

He would owe the saiyan a debt of gratitude for this gesture. For reeling him back from the brink.