now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence
won't accept your silence
“Hah, of course you wouldn’t, darling.” He drawls, amusement falling into the lines on his face as he prepares himself both mentally and physically to try to not fuck up enough that he falls. After all, he doesn’t want to deal with any bruising that would likely occur from the drop onto the hardened, rocky ground. He pulls away from the kiss with a sense of there’s more where that came from if you catch me if i fall, before he’s hesitating for the Maverick to get into the position before he climbs up onto the offered hand, utilizing the wall for additional support.
He does make it quick at least, finding a moment of enough stability to thwack the sharp end of the pickaxe into the vein, ensuring that as the pieces fall and clatter to the ground that none of them hit the Maverick.
“That should do, I imagine?” They get enough in a short span of time, considering he doesn’t need that much of it, and so he starts to make his descent, careful and thoughtful of Danta who has hoisted him up.
He does make it quick at least, finding a moment of enough stability to thwack the sharp end of the pickaxe into the vein, ensuring that as the pieces fall and clatter to the ground that none of them hit the Maverick.
“That should do, I imagine?” They get enough in a short span of time, considering he doesn’t need that much of it, and so he starts to make his descent, careful and thoughtful of Danta who has hoisted him up.
Astaroth
beg me for forgiveness
