Rico steps forward with a grin, confidence radiating from every inch of his body. It doesn't scare him to hold the fate of the universe in his hands - if anything, it electrifies him. His feet are planted solid with an accompanying spine of steel - to be one of the few standing between the universe and that - he isn't scared at all. His body is a live wire conduit, thrumming with an anticipation that almost can't be contained. All of these high emotions resonating around him - pride, love, tension, nostalgia, determination, willpower - it drums under his skin, beating a rhythm with his heart.
He knows hate. He knows spite. He knows every petty, filthy instinct, every dirty emotion under the sun. The worst crime and excess a person could ever sink to, and the worst authority entrusted to punish it.
But now, he knows more than that.
He’d felt it. Remembered what it was like. The contempt that was once genuine concern. The protectiveness that festered into resentment. When he had first arrived here, stepped into the mess hall with his boot treads still filthy from the streets of Mega-City One, he hadn’t thought anything was worth saving. Not in this universe, and not even in himself.
But he thinks back to Zenyatta and his dance. The juve with the cloned origins, the mission and memories he shared. Archangel’s stubborn views on justice. Beeny's presence proving that things could change, would change. Every tantalizing glimpse of the future. That he would be vindicated - the proof was right there, and he liked to re-watch it on occasion - and all that he had to do was wait. Connections were made, winding little handcuffs that snapped tight around their wrists and chained them together in a way Rico was almost loathe to break.
But instead of the future, he turns his eyes to the past. Not just the lux-apt in Mega-City One, the pleasure of the excess, of violence. Or concern over his personal little fiefdom, the city he'd claimed ownership of as a prince ruling over his subjects. But to when he was younger. When he still felt like he understood his brother with perfect clarity, and the whole path in front of them laid out so neatly. That fierce swell of pride every time they had each other's backs, defended each other. Fighting for what they believed was a higher cause. Stepping in perfect synchronicity before their bond had broken in the way that it had. His stubborn, sanctimonious, self-righteous brother whose presence he hated but couldn't help seeking out.
There would be no chance for him to fight back. He’d never know this was coming. Everything would just blink out, with no fanfare. And Rico knows, that if he were in his place, he’d face this with an implacable set to his jaw and win. And Rico can’t ever be upstaged. He’s not going to be a deadweight while they’re saving the universe.
Rico stands tall, chin jutting out imperiously. And he brings all the genetic stubbornness, his full authority to bear. Every ounce of authority entrusted to him, and every pound he'd taken for himself, he brings with him.
no subject
And boy, did it ever look like one.
Rico steps forward with a grin, confidence radiating from every inch of his body. It doesn't scare him to hold the fate of the universe in his hands - if anything, it electrifies him. His feet are planted solid with an accompanying spine of steel - to be one of the few standing between the universe and that - he isn't scared at all. His body is a live wire conduit, thrumming with an anticipation that almost can't be contained. All of these high emotions resonating around him - pride, love, tension, nostalgia, determination, willpower - it drums under his skin, beating a rhythm with his heart.
He knows hate. He knows spite. He knows every petty, filthy instinct, every dirty emotion under the sun. The worst crime and excess a person could ever sink to, and the worst authority entrusted to punish it.
But now, he knows more than that.
He’d felt it. Remembered what it was like. The contempt that was once genuine concern. The protectiveness that festered into resentment. When he had first arrived here, stepped into the mess hall with his boot treads still filthy from the streets of Mega-City One, he hadn’t thought anything was worth saving. Not in this universe, and not even in himself.
But he thinks back to Zenyatta and his dance. The juve with the cloned origins, the mission and memories he shared. Archangel’s stubborn views on justice. Beeny's presence proving that things could change, would change. Every tantalizing glimpse of the future. That he would be vindicated - the proof was right there, and he liked to re-watch it on occasion - and all that he had to do was wait. Connections were made, winding little handcuffs that snapped tight around their wrists and chained them together in a way Rico was almost loathe to break.
But instead of the future, he turns his eyes to the past. Not just the lux-apt in Mega-City One, the pleasure of the excess, of violence. Or concern over his personal little fiefdom, the city he'd claimed ownership of as a prince ruling over his subjects. But to when he was younger. When he still felt like he understood his brother with perfect clarity, and the whole path in front of them laid out so neatly. That fierce swell of pride every time they had each other's backs, defended each other. Fighting for what they believed was a higher cause. Stepping in perfect synchronicity before their bond had broken in the way that it had. His stubborn, sanctimonious, self-righteous brother whose presence he hated but couldn't help seeking out.
There would be no chance for him to fight back. He’d never know this was coming. Everything would just blink out, with no fanfare. And Rico knows, that if he were in his place, he’d face this with an implacable set to his jaw and win. And Rico can’t ever be upstaged. He’s not going to be a deadweight while they’re saving the universe.
Rico stands tall, chin jutting out imperiously. And he brings all the genetic stubbornness, his full authority to bear. Every ounce of authority entrusted to him, and every pound he'd taken for himself, he brings with him.
This is worth saving.