#serpentieux

[noxianhand]

' pardon my words but- you look ridiculous. ' she laughs. ' armor suits you far more than silk. '

and i darken sentence prompts | selectively accepting.@serpentieux

by what he knows of usual decorum in galas and the sort, darius should take offense on the young ducouteau’s uncouth little remark, but he can’t be bothered with it, not when by all means, he agrees with what is said. it’s uncomfortable she has found him by his side of the ample room, waiting the hours out with an untouched drink in hand, but he can’t truly feel offense to what rings true to his ears; it is simply not how he behaves. the might feels at home when clad in steel and even if what he wears right then is the full dress reserved for noxian military, it doesn’t feel right—strange, how a man as wrought by war as him feels less at ease in these ballrooms and manors than in the open battlefield. 

all he does, then, as response is to sneer, halfway into a snarl, and shake his head.

“it does, that much you are right about,” red eyes upon the woman, he hardly seems bothered by her inhuman looks. “but if i came in armor to one of these fancy little events, i fear that might cause an outrage among the highborne.” he still remembers the ungainly little words he heard from noblemen about his origins, all because of his ‘commoner’ accent. 

letting out a marked tsc as he returns his gaze to the mass of people gathering for a waltz, he seems frustrated at best. he resembles vaguely a caged animal and to him, there’s no cage more cruel than these asinine social conventions.

“as entertaining as that might have been to watch, i needn’t cause this sort of commotion with my political role.”