Sizing Up

Souleymane.Senghor watches first Po and then Idrissa vanish .. one to duty she'd tried to avoid and the other to begin immediately showing Fukujuso the place. Driss DID have a slight smirk when she left. Both humored and worried. He was left with the man ... so he turns to him and folds his arms, not realizing Driss had done the exact same thing when shed first met him. "So you are Hars....." he rumbles. No smile, no expression of any kind to speak of.

Hars Darax looks towards the brother. Seems very... taciturn, compared to his twin. No smiles or laughs. At least not now. "I am," he says dryly. Folds the towel he's holding, puts it on the table beside him. "Hars Darax," introduces himself, steps forward, putting out a hand.

Souleymane.Senghor watches him. Sizes him up. It is a habit formed long long ago. After a moment, he takes the hand in a firm grip and shakes it once. "And of course I am Souleymane Senghor. Idrissa's twin." he knows how ironic fraternal twins can look. "She likes you, I understand." his eyes narrow slightly. Suspiscion, perhaps even sibling jealousy. For the first time in a long time another man has Driss's affection.

Hars Darax returns the firm grip and then drops his hand. Thankfully it's only his legs that are weak. THey're aching. He won't let on. "Pleased to meet you, Driss speaks of you often." Polite chat, called for, eh.

Souleymane.Senghor nods in approval. "She would. We've been seperated for so long." he grumbles. "I was worried about her here." he glances around the obviously harmless place. "Until she met you and you started spending time together." he nods at the table. "Lets sit and talk." he suggests. For him it is a way of saying he trusts him enough not to NEED to be standing to attack.

Hars Darax leans against the table. Bandied words with the best, he has. A suspicious brother no different. Diplomacy required. Souleymane wants to sit and talk? "Happy to" he grabs a chair, grunting despite himself as he folds himself into it. "She's wonderful," simply. That's her to a T. "I wouldna see any harm come to her."

Souleymane.Senghor sits, noting the grunt, but saying nothing. "Despite her family, I agree." he watches the man. "I am glad to know that. Not everyone can be trusted. She seems to trust you." he inhales and exhales slowly. "She told you about her past?" he wonders.

Hars Darax nods, moves his legs under the table, stretches them in relief. Shakes his head slightly, "Can't say anything to prove myself to you. Words mean nothing. Time and experience tell the truth." Calm, as usual, but decisive. "She shared some, yes. Enough for me to know, she'd been battered and bruised. Yet somehow, she... still smiles."

Souleymane.Senghor arches both brows. "Truth." he pronounces his statement about proving himself. "Battered and bruised is a bit of an understatement. But she can see the positive and lets the sun shine through her eyes. She says we are a world. She is the day and I am the night. But she doesn't make it sound like a bad thing." the ghost of a grin touches his lips. He leans forward and dangles his hands between his legs. Very casual. "Is there a reason you would WANT to prove yourself to me?" he asks, as if asking if he'd like come tea. "Besides the fact that Driss IS very old fashioned. We were raised in a very old fashioned environment. Dark jungles of Africa. Where her closest male relative can dictate every move she makes." he pauses. "And she will obey him." meaning her twin. He already knows her attraction and strongly suyspects his. Now Hars probably knows too.

Hars Darax fingers a forgotten spoon. Eyes Souley as the man leans forward. Shrugs, "You said 'not everyone can be trusted.'" Listens. Shakes his head, "I'm an old fashioned man myself. But not in that way," he gestures with a spoon. "I don't give orders. Not anymore. If - and it's a big if," he points out, "she wants me in her life, she'll be my equal, not my slave."

Souleymane.Senghor looks at him and the spoon he wields. His eyebros arch ... and then higher. Finally he chuckles. It's only a bit dark or that may just be because his voice is so deep. "Males and females are not equal. Not on a genetic level, at any rate. She will never be as strong as you and you can never bring forth a life from your womb." he tells this enlightened ex-Starfleet. He straightens. "And that 'if' isn't as big as you seem to think it is. But even if it was, Driss would not be anyone;s slave. I made sure of that a long time ago." he announces, dismissing the whole slavery analigy away with his hand like a bothersome fly.

Hars Darax: "Not going to debate male and female genetics. It's too... myopic, to think gender affects ability. What you say might be partially true of humans, but... throughout the galaxy, there are so many variations. It's limited to think of him and her. I believe we are more than the sum of our parts. Driss is a bright spirit in the dark skies. I'd honor that, whether it's as friend or.. more."

Souleymane.Senghor nods slowly. "We were born and raised on Earth. I didn't see my forst non-human until I was in my teens, working with my father and brothers. Driss didnt meet her first non human until she met ..." he pauses and then continues. "one I brought into our village." he inhales and exhales slowly. "But I care about very few beings. My sister is one. She is a bright spirit. I'll do no less now than I did as a boy to KEEP her that way." he closes his eyes and sighs, half grinning. "No, I know he is not." he whispers so softlyt Hars may miss it.

Hars Darax looks to him. His jaw works a little. Breathing deep, he leans forward, "Be careful with Po, please. You don't know her as I do. She's been... badly scarred." He sits back, "She wouldna say it, but I read between the lines. Unusual for her to.. take time away. There's something," he studies Souley's face.

Souleymane.Senghor 's jaw drops slightly, registering genuine shock at the sudden revelation from Hars. He recovers quickly, but likely not quickly enough. The man took him completely by surprise. He's sharp, this Hars. "Yes. There IS something." he agrees, aloud. "But ...." he pauses and looks directly at Hars, into his eyes even if allowed. "My feelings for Poison are probbaly identical to yours about Idrissa." he stands slowly. "If not stronger." he nods. "I should get back to her and Fukujuso now." he wants to escape before he betrays more than he already has. And hes revealed more to Hars than he'd planned.

Hars Darax watches the man stand up. He can't rise yet, his legs won't allow it. He says, "Souleymane," with a nod of farewell.