(no subject)
When he was a child, his father often told Bagoas the kind of man he would become. A warrior. A ally of the great King who'd fight to the death for the honor of the Persian people. He was Bagadata, son of Artembares, son of Araxis, of the royal blood of Kyros. That future was over as swift as the slave dealer's blade so many years ago.
And yet here he was, in armor, weapon in hand and among the men. He'd gotten Mistress Satine and the women safe. Chewbacca and Sebastian would protect them there. He would go fight with the men he most cared for. Frank. Han. Jayne. If their fate was to die, he would join them in that fate before being left behind again.
It would be an honorable death. A manly death.
Bagadata wasn't afraid.
((OOC: Now just waiting on those "honorable" men's writers to get here to figure out exactly where we are now. :D ))
And yet here he was, in armor, weapon in hand and among the men. He'd gotten Mistress Satine and the women safe. Chewbacca and Sebastian would protect them there. He would go fight with the men he most cared for. Frank. Han. Jayne. If their fate was to die, he would join them in that fate before being left behind again.
It would be an honorable death. A manly death.
Bagadata wasn't afraid.
((OOC: Now just waiting on those "honorable" men's writers to get here to figure out exactly where we are now. :D ))