(oof yeah. Good luck!)
Kieran shrugged. "Yes, I am." He told Mack. He looked at Elara, and nodded. "I see." He went silent. He didn't usually talk so much, and he wasn't sure why he had. He folded his hands behind his back, unaware that the sleeves had come up, showing the scars ringing his wrists from manacles and chains.
Elara's eyes flickered to the movement, catching on the sight of his scars. Her brows furrowed, but she didn't say anything, instead reaching for her bag and digging around in it. "Ya mind runnin' this out t' Johnson?" She asked, pulling out a smaller bag that jingled when she lifted it.
Kieran nodded. "Don't run off. I don't want to have to track you down." He warned, taking the bag and slipping out of the room to find Johnson. He was careful not to bump into anything as he walked.
Kieran left before Elara could even argue with that, leaving her to huff and go back to talking to Mack. She was pretty quickly roped into playing a game the seven year old called 'dolls and dinosaurs', which was pretty self-explanatory.
Johnson was in the backyard, hauling firewood into a pile and apparently attempting to clean up the yard, which was cluttered with fishing nets and an anchor or two, and various other items that were mostly things one would find on a boat.
Kieran found Johnson, and held out the bag. "The princess said to give this to you." He said calmly. He looked oddly out of place in the cluttered yard, like something that had been plucked from one spot and dropped in another where it didn't belong. His orange eyes were empty of emotion. He looked, for all the world, like a statue or the like.
Johnson looked up as he set down a bundle of fire wood, wiping his hands off on his pants as he looked from the Thari to the bag. "God dammit. I told 'er not-" He shook his head, grumbling to himself as he stepped over to take the bag. "Thanks. Say, what's yer name, kid?"
Kieran nodded. "I'm Kieran." He replied, dropping his arms back down to his sides. He wondered why, exactly, the princess was visiting here, and why this man and the little girl had asked if he was "her prince". He didn't quite understand. He was no prince. He technically belonged to Elara for now, that was true, so maybe he was hers, but not her prince.
"Nice t' meetcha, Kieran. Call me Johnson." Johnson said, nodding instead of offering a hand to shake, like most people would. He unzipped the bag, taking a look inside, and shook his head. Despite acting annoyed, gratefulness flickered over his features, along with a slightly sad mix of emotions. "Surprised ya managed t' keep next t' her. That Roman is the only one she's brought along before."
"Well. She would have a difficult time losing me if she tried to run off." Kieran said with a slight shrug. "Plus she knows why I'm here. That might have something to do with it." In truth, he had no idea. But humans, and anyone with emotions, had empathy. Sympathy? That sometimes made them act strangely. Maybe that was it.
"Maybe. Never know her t' give up runnin' though." Johnson mused, closing the bag once more. "Her mother was the same way. Forces o' nature, those two. Good luck." He laughed, shaking his head. "So, yer new, tha's for sure. When didja start?"
"Mm. This morning." Kieran replied. "She wasn't too happy." He guessed so, anyway. He wasn't good at reading emotions. Especially not in humans.
"I can imagine. Makes her feel controlled." Johnson looked over at the house, crossing his arms over his chest. The most noticeable tattoo he had was a large anchor on his right shoulder, with seaweed and a rusted chain trailing from where they were tangled around it, down his arm, to wrap around his wrist like a bracelet. "If there's one thing Ellie likes, it's her freedom, for sure. That and hot chocolate."
Kieran's mouth twitched slightly. Two things i don't have. He thought. "I see. Well. Some of us don't have any freedom, so. I don't exactly sympathize." He said emotionlessly. He wondered if this man had yet clued in to what he was. But it didn't matter if he did or not.
(Will be afk starting now, most likely won't answer again)
((Gotcha!))
"Ain' that why you're here? T' gain it?" Johnson asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. "I've known your kind before, an' none of 'em have been free. Guessin' yer workin' here now, an' I can tell ya one thing, Elara ain' happy abou' that. She don' got somethin' against your kind as a whole, jus' why yer here." Smarter than he let on, but not quite smart enough to keep from giving up info he saw as inconsequential about Elara to anyone. "But if ya had your freedom, wouldn' ya not want people t' take it again? Tha's how she thinks, always has been. Keepin' in control is important t' her."
(just kidding. Starting now tho. I may reply, but I probably won't)
Kieran shrugged. "Yes, but I am not taking her freedom." He pointed out. "I am accompanying her to keep her safe. I have not impeded her in any way, shape, or form. There are no chains on her, and i would not hurt her for disobedience. I can't even tell her what to do." He said. "So yes, she still has her freedom."
Johnson shook his head, looking up at the sky for a moment as though thinking. "Kid, she grew up free in more ways than you, bu' she was always shackled by the responsibility o' keepin' herself alive on these streets. The Slums ain' kind t' anyone, but especially not little girls. The freedom she did have, she kept a tigh' hold on, righ' up 'till she lost it, jus' t' keep herself fed." He looked back down at Kieran, looking almost sad. "She don' say it, but tha' palace an' the people in it are chainin' her up, figuratively. Different than what you mighta known, but chains still. They wan' her t' change and let 'em use her like a puppet."
Kieran listened, and shrugged. "And i don't have anything to do with it. I am a guard, working off the money to pay for my freedom. That is all. I don't see what you expect me to do. I will not bend or break the rules for her, because that could result in problems. I will not disobey orders." That had been beaten into him many times over the years. Never, ever disobey. If that means you die…well, there are always more Thari where you came from.
“Not sayin’ ya should, kid. Guess I’m just tryin’ t’ give ya an idea o’ where she’s comin’ from. Ya both had it rough, and I guess I’ll never quite get that.” Johnson sighed, uncrossing his arms and straightening. “I’m wishin’ ya luck, and askin’ ya t’ take care o’ her. She ain’t got many people willin’ to, and the gods know she won’ do it herself. Cmon back inside, kid, it’s gettin too chilly out here. Ya thirsty or somethin’?” He asked, already starting back for the back door.
Kieran followed him almost automatically. "I…will do my best." He replied. "And no, I'm not thirsty. I'm fine." He had had to work for hours in the sun, without water. He really would be fine.
“Tha’s all I need t’ hear.” Johnson said, pushing open the door and stepping in, holding open for Kieran to step inside. “Ya sure? There ain’t much in the kitchen, but help yerself t’ whatever is. No offense meant, but ya look way too thin kid.”
Kieran shrugged slightly. "No, I'm fine." He said as he walked inside. "Really." He would be fine until dinner. Whenever that was. Even if there wasn't dinner, he'd be fine. He always was. He didn't need much food.
“If ya say so. Feel free if ya change yer mind.” Johnson said, setting the bag on a side table before heading down the hall towards Mack’s room. “Ellie, how many times am I gonna have t’ tell ya t’ stop bringin’ us money?”
“Ya know exactly why I do, Johnson!” Elara called back, stepping out of the room with Mack on her shoulders, both grinning. “Ya can’ worry ‘bout the medicine on top of food and the house.”
Kieran noticed that the princess had the same accent as the man Johnson, and the little girl, though he didn't comment on it. He remained silent, watching. His hair was starting to come out of the bun he had put it in.
Johnson shook his head, frowning dramatically. “Ya should be more worried ‘bout yourself than us. Other people are, obviously.” He said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at Kieran.
Kieran sighed softly. "It's my job." He said with a shrug. Then he inhaled slightly, looking away. Stop talking. Don't speak unless spoken to. It doesn't matter what they say about you. He reminded himself. He reached back and redid the loose bun keeping his hair back, silent, keeping his eyes on the ground.