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RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Astaroth - 06-02-2024
Asta’s subconscious won’t shut up.
Anyway, the Butcher hums a note of agreement regarding the wolf attack not being unlikely. The stories are everywhere and the evidence left behind from deer carcasses amongst people as well. So as they delve further and the two of them are silent as can be amongst the snow, Astaroth flashes a sharp grin back at Danta with the incline of his head. “[say]Oh but of course.[/say]” He whispers to the leaving many paw prints, flashing a wink before Danta makes his decision.
And so, man turns to fyrhund, shrinking and shifting into the hard exterior, somewhat glowy canine as he tries to hide most of his cracks of lava. Steaming a fraction as he does start off in a random track, a puff of smoke is offered to the Maverick as a swift goodbye for now.
It doesn’t take him long, either, the trek quick and circled and followed and walked back on to ensure it’s believability. And from there, the fyrhund’s herding and corralling a rather burly, muscular man with a bit of a beer belly out into the cold landscape. He’s far enough away from the rest that his gasped cries for help aren’t heard well enough from the way the snow swallows up the sounds, and before long the man is barreling straight toward what appears to be a clear path through the trees toward Danta, with the “wolf” right on his heels, snapping with sharp jaws.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Dantalion - 06-02-2024
One might have expected Danta to wait and shift as well, but in truth, the Maverick doesn't yet have any larger predatory shifts to rely upon. There's no lial in his blood, no fyrhund, no tiger, and a lava wyrm doesn't really have the same oomph. Granted, perhaps that's also where he differs from a great deal of his kin, because Danta quite enjoys his kills with his own bare hands.
Well. Hands and blades, if he's brutally honest about it, as the beer-bellied scout will soon find out. The man might think he's just run into a sharp branch as he runs, at first, though he'll soon be corrected by the sudden dark gush of blood and guts onto the snow. He staggers with a gurgled sort of groan, and as he goes down Danta steps out, licking the blood from the knife he slips back into his boot. [say]"Have at it,"[/say] he growls softly to Astaroth - they need to make it look believable, after all.
[say]"But don't kill him. I want that."[/say]
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Astaroth - 06-02-2024
Oh, he prowls and stops short – not enough to cause such a shuffle of snow to imply something else is there, but more like a course correction, as he watches with delight to see the trap the Maverick has made. The man staggers and the fyrhund’s paw lifts as he leans in a bit closer, watching and nearly howling with the scent of blood that fills the air. But he is patient, as he was taught in the Climb, and his vibrant orange eyes watch the blonde with a hint of admiration and begging, that he waits for the go ahead.
Understanding the assignment, as it were, the fyrhund yips a sound, diving onto the man’s back with claws outstretched to rake and tear, teeth leaving marks into the man’s shoulders and arms and legs, everywhere where it may seem like multiple dogs (if the tracks had anything to say about it). They’re all carefully placed bites to not take a kill but to simply harbor more bleeding – on ground that’s covered by trees and mercifully left untainted by the snow in a bowl-ish shape, doing nothing but creating a bowl of blood beneath the man.
Astaroth is calculating in each bite, thanks to how familiar he is with human anatomy, tearing a bite from the man’s side as he flips him over, and with more gurgling and pained breaths, the fyrhund steps back, mouth and chest coated in blood, panting despite how he sits and swallows down the strip, orange eyes seeking out Danta to finish the job or have his fun. Whatever’s left will certainly look like an accident regardless.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Dantalion - 06-02-2024
A satisfied smile curls across Danta's lips as he turns to watch Astaroth streak past him towards their prey, and as the sound of snarling and muffled screaming fills the air, gods but the Maverick finally feels his shoulders relax. Closing his eyes to enjoy it all the more (it isn't like he can see as well in the dark as an Attuned, after all), the stench of copper and the garbled cries for help are all he needs to really, truly feel better, his bloodlust stoked to a high that hunting mice doesn't come close to touching.
Only as the fyrhund steps back does Danta surge forward, falling on the scout in the same way any predator might taken down their prey. All but straddling the man's waist, it's with a bare hand that the Maverick plunges his way in through the laceration he's opened, cracking and squeezing any bit of bone or flesh that gets in his way, only to tear out once more, streaking himself with a gout of blood.
And already the light in the man's eyes has gone out, not that Danta notices or cares. With the knees of his pants greedily soaking up the crimson from the hard packed ground and what looks like the scout's liver in his hands, the Maverick feasts as if he's got all the time in the world.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Astaroth - 06-02-2024
Already Danta looks better, as far as the fyrhund can see in the dim light. The shadow of his shoulders are more relaxed and it proves all the same to the Butcher that this had been the correct choice. So he steps back, watches patiently as his tongue lolls out to lick away the blood along his muzzle, watching with pure delight as Danta quite literally starts to tear him apart.
And in the time of the savagery that the blonde commits, Astaroth decides now is as good a time as ever to return to his typically pristine self that is everything but at this moment – face, neck, and chest all coated in the moonlit blood, steaming from where it rises from his skin and clothes – the second Danta sits back content with his choice, Astaroth is sidling up across from him, soaking in the blood all the same, hands diving into the chest cavity of the man with a relieved sigh, pulling out a few pieces of muscle to gnaw into with his sharp teeth making little work of it.
“[say]We should hunt like this more often, don’t you think?[/say]” He hums, flashing a brilliant and blood soaked grin to the other man.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Dantalion - 06-03-2024
Had the Maverick been in a shift right now he might have snarled at the approach of the other man, or raised hackles, or done whatever predators do in the middle of a meal. As it stands, however, he can only track Astaroth's movements with cold eyes even as he focuses on tearing into the meal in his hands, using sharp fangs to easily rip at the iron rich organ.
Only once he's finished is he capable of anything more than furtive glances and clipped, non-verbal agreements, still straddling the carcass of the man even as he reaches out to snatch blood wet fingers against the front of Asta's formerly white shirt. Dragging the taller man down towards him, he takes the kiss from his lips more than anything else, happily adrift in the stench of copper and the warmth bleeding out of the corpse beneath him.
[say]"Hunting people? Or just hunting like this?"[/say] he wonders, voice little more than a hoarse whisper as he releases Asta again as if in apology. He knows this sort of thing isn't always the other man's flavour, so to speak, but gods if violence and sex aren't a match made in Heaven for Danta.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Astaroth - 06-03-2024
It wouldn’t have kept him away, had Danta raised his hackles and snarled about the Butcher’s approach. As it stands, there’s no need for a scuffle, letting Danta stick to his own meal while he picks and pulls parts of his own, content to relish in the bask of the bloodlust and the warm scarlet blood that soaks his pants and chest, clings to his neck.
Dark eyes immediately lift to the Maverick as he’s grabbed, a bit roughly albeit, but he goes willingly. Along the same mindset, Astaroth presses into the kiss that’s taken from him, withdrawing back to the meal in front of them with tension bleeding from his shoulders. “[say]Both.[/say]” Astaroth hums, testing the water as he leans down and tears a bite out of the man’s chest, sharp teeth tearing at the flesh, bloodied hands braced against their prey’s shoulders.
Settling back on his knees to leave Danta to take his fill, his tail waves a little as it slips over to brush against Danta’s side, dark eyes focused wholly on the other man. “[say]I always feel at such peace after.[/say]” He breathes in that deep hoarseness, exhaling a slow breath as if this was nothing more than meditation.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Dantalion - 06-03-2024
[say]"I could be persuaded,"[/say] Danta almost whispers, adrift in the heady scent of blood in the air and the way warm copper continues to soak into his clothes. In truth he could be persuaded to do most anything right now - any good Ancient knows that this sort of thing is the peak when it comes to satisfying bloodlust, and gods but even the Maverick's broken sense of hunger can glean some sense of satisfaction from it, however short-lived it might be.
Releasing Asta so he might feast as he pleases, Danta instead busies himself watching the dead man's face and idly rummaging in the body cavity he'd made, as if looking for the last pieces of popcorn at the bottom of the bag. [say]"Mm,"[/say] he agrees softly as he sits back with the butcher, his body utterly relaxed, his tail gently flicking its affection as the other man draws close.
And for a second he really does seem at peace, before a sudden darkness falls into his expression and he reaches out, seizing the dead man by the hair only to slam his skull back into the stone with a sickening crack. Apparently peace only provides space for fury to move in, and Danta huffs out a long sigh as he settles back again.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Astaroth - 06-03-2024
“[say]I will keep it in mind.[/say]” He hums, in between bites and pieces torn from the carcass, satisfaction pouring from him like a feline, despite not harboring that shift anymore. But he could entirely fool anyone watching. Especially as he hums his meditated relief, the relaxation evident in his shoulders, so much so that Danta’s sudden shift to violence doesn’t even phase him.
He simply sits there nibbling on another bite of muscle, watching like it’s nothing more than a show, until Danta sits back. “[say]The bites are already there. I imagine you could desecrate further, for however much more it might help.[/say]” He says casually, even as he sidles a bit closer, bloodied hand lifting to run warm, copper slick fingers along Danta’s bloodied chin, tilting his head toward the Butcher.
“[say]The kill is yours, Dantalion, darling.[/say]” He purrs in a gentler tone, dark brow rising. “[say]You control what happens to it.[/say]” Whether it be destruction or devouring or nothing else, Astaroth doesn’t care. He’s satisfied as can be, but something tells him he needs to make sure that Danta can be satisfied, too.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Dantalion - 06-03-2024
If only Danta could tell how much it might help - it could be a lot, or it might not be at all. Regardless, whilst he's tense again, the butcher manoeuvres him easily enough, bloody fingers tilting his chin even if his eyes never leave the blank face of their victim. Control is not a privilege the Maverick has ever been afforded in his personal life, and even as the leader of a region it still feels as if it escapes him some days, like sand trickling through an hourglass.
[say]"No,"[/say] he decides, after a few long heartbeats. [say]"No, I think I'm done here."[/say] In his mind's eye he can see himself plunging a hand into the bloodied corpse, snapping off a shard of rib and going at it until it's very, very clear that this was not done by a pack of dogs. And that is not something he believes the Hollowed Grounds will tolerate - even this slip of composure is going to have to be few and far between.
Slouching a little against the other man, as if dizzied by the blood in the air, if nothing else, the Maverick is sated enough to feel tired.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Astaroth - 06-03-2024
They don’t make eye contact, but Astaroth doesn’t mind. His hand remains at Danta’s chin, clinging to the warmth and the quiet question aired between them. And he’s patient for as long as need be to receive an answer, which mercifully doesn’t take too long.
The Maverick slouches and the Butcher lips an arm around him, nosing his bloodied head in to nuzzle against the other man’s cheek. Withdrawing and offering an arm for the other man, he swallows down a deep breath of the cool air, waiting until Danta’s standing before he envelops the boneless Ancient in his arms. “[say]Do you want to be carried for a portion or would you prefer the walk?[/say]” He asks gently, already planning the trek through the woods to prevent any footsteps from being seen around the body.
He doesn’t mind either way what the Maverick decides, sated to the point of content regardless of any choices, like a satisfied cat.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Dantalion - 06-03-2024
Leaning casually against the other Ancient in turn, it's another few moments before Danta can blink away the sight of the man they'd eviscerated and turn his head properly away, letting out a long breath he doesn't realise he's been holding. Nosing against Asta's cheek, he willingly accepts the other man's arm to totter to his feet, clothes soaked and ruined with blood, the cold already starting to nip once more at the heavy, wet fabric.
Stepping into the warmth offered by the butcher's arms like a moth to a flame, Danta's usual responses fight for purchase on his tongue. I'll walk, or I'm fine, or Don't worry about it. What he says, though, is, [say]"If you don't mind."[/say] Suddenly exhausted by the kill, the meal, and everything it both did and didn't do for his psyche, the Maverick lets his chin rest against Asta's shoulder.
[say]"The fewer footprints the better,"[/say] he adds, as if that shred of logic makes an excuse for something he wants.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Astaroth - 06-03-2024
There is one thing that Astaroth realizes about himself — perhaps he wasn’t suited to a life of solitary. Because the warmth that blooms from their embrace and the fact that he does expect the Maverick to say he doesn’t need help, only to be proven wrong when the other man’s quiet voice accepts his offer. He finds he doesn’t mind it. Nor does he feel any need to tease or taunt him for asking for something he wants.
The once
Arms shift to pull him up against his chest, cradling him into the hard scarred torso he bores beneath the bloodied clothes. “[say]I’ll snag an antler shed on the way and everyone will be none the wiser.[/say]” He confirms, drifting through the cold and leaving the mess behind, no footsteps found that don’t already perfectly coincide with deer tracks.
As such, his tail snags on an antler, bloodied as he lifts it to his bloodied hand temporarily to drop it into Danta’s lap to get the evidence prepared like bringing a trophy home from their kill. It isn’t surprising to see them arrive bloodied from a deer, anyway. And ironically, the antler seems to match the very prongs that stick out from his own skull. And he fully intends on displaying it in his room.
RE: concealed by your slight of hand - Dantalion - 06-03-2024
Whatever thoughts might flutter through the butcher's mind, whatever realisations or considerations he might make, Danta can only feel grateful for the simple acceptance in the other man's voice, and he hums his thanks into the crook of Astaroth's neck as he's scooped into his arms. [say]"That sounds good,"[/say] he mumbles of the antler shed, his head lolling against his shoulder as they start to walk, the Maverick's blue eyes watching but barely seeing the trail ahead.
Were it not for Asta being there it's likely that Danta would have fallen asleep out in the snow (dangerous) or perhaps sought out further blood and pleasure from the performers' settlement nearby (arguably even more dangerous). And so it's with his tail flicking contently that he settles into the rhythm of the butcher's steps, blinking back to himself only as the crown of antlers is dropped into his lap.
[say]"Looks like we took down one hell of a stag this time,"[/say] he says softly, dark amusement lacing through his tone as he admires the sharp tines with bloody fingers. And as far as the rest of the Dusklight knows, they really have. Only once they emerge along the other side of the Domiciles does the Maverick seem himself enough to halt Asta that he might step back down onto his own two feet.
[say]"Let's make sure we're seen with this before we get anywhere near the Last Whisper,"[/say] he suggests, nodding at a couple of people walking up ahead.