in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
Danta surges forward as if given permission by the rumble in Asta's throat and chest, dragging bloody lips along his jaw and snaking his hands up to push down on the other man's shoulders, as if to force him onto his knees. The scent of rust in the air and the crimson dripping from his chin (and soaking greedily into Asta's silk shirt, and down his chest, and gods know where else) is enough to make the Maverick lightheaded, and as he steps away, it's without being fully cognizant of the movement.
Running his tongue across bloody teeth, Danta collects the cane that his fellow Ancient has painstakingly placed within the room, turning back to approach Asta with all the soft steps of a predator. "I think you used to have one of these back in The Climb too, didn't you?" he says, reaching out to use the head of the cane to tilt up the other man's chin. "I recall being on the receiving end of it, once or twice."
And he sees it, too, all at once in his mind's eye - if he were to step back in this blue room and lash the cane out with enough force to crack a skull. He sees the spray of blood that would fleck onto the walls, hears the sound of fracturing bone. And if Asta went down from it, gods, what would stop Danta from turning him inside out with sharp teeth and blunt fingers and painting the whole place red?
Suddenly it isn't the taller man bound and muzzled before him, either. It could be any hapless stranger on a bad day, any Ancient he's been told to target. Maybe it's even Morax, getting everything she deserves.
Danta hasn't realised he's propped the cane casually over one shoulder, or that he's gazing down at the other man with more murder than lust in his eyes, but as a group of people outside laugh and jostle each other as they head up the street, something jerks him back to reality.
Blinking and feeling a sudden, sick mix of enjoyment and guilt (a foreign emotion and he doesn't like it), the Maverick lets the cane slip from his fingers to clatter on the floor. "Shit," he mutters. "Shit, sorry, I..." Shaking out his hands as if they've gone numb, Danta reaches out to tug the strip of leather from Asta's mouth, to hastily unbind his hands.
"This was a bad idea. I don't think I can do this."
Running his tongue across bloody teeth, Danta collects the cane that his fellow Ancient has painstakingly placed within the room, turning back to approach Asta with all the soft steps of a predator. "I think you used to have one of these back in The Climb too, didn't you?" he says, reaching out to use the head of the cane to tilt up the other man's chin. "I recall being on the receiving end of it, once or twice."
And he sees it, too, all at once in his mind's eye - if he were to step back in this blue room and lash the cane out with enough force to crack a skull. He sees the spray of blood that would fleck onto the walls, hears the sound of fracturing bone. And if Asta went down from it, gods, what would stop Danta from turning him inside out with sharp teeth and blunt fingers and painting the whole place red?
Suddenly it isn't the taller man bound and muzzled before him, either. It could be any hapless stranger on a bad day, any Ancient he's been told to target. Maybe it's even Morax, getting everything she deserves.
Danta hasn't realised he's propped the cane casually over one shoulder, or that he's gazing down at the other man with more murder than lust in his eyes, but as a group of people outside laugh and jostle each other as they head up the street, something jerks him back to reality.
Blinking and feeling a sudden, sick mix of enjoyment and guilt (a foreign emotion and he doesn't like it), the Maverick lets the cane slip from his fingers to clatter on the floor. "Shit," he mutters. "Shit, sorry, I..." Shaking out his hands as if they've gone numb, Danta reaches out to tug the strip of leather from Asta's mouth, to hastily unbind his hands.
"This was a bad idea. I don't think I can do this."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
