Everything's made to be broken

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Time ceased to matter when the border between day and night disappeared. There was only waking and sleeping, only working until she couldn't stay on her feet a moment longer and enduring what sparse few moments of rest she could pry out between fretful tossing and haunted nightmares. It came to a point where being around people had her seething with hopeless rage with no source outside of her own mind; and so she withdrew, disappearing into the backrooms with a clipboard and a pen as a convenient excuse to remain out of sight. 

Counting barrels of beer and ale, whiskey and wine until her eyes swam, Maea thought she was doing a decent job of holding herself together. Looking down at the list however, with its mess of blotches and scratched out mistakes, told a complely different story. How many times had she lost count and been forced to start over by now? An ironic metaphor for her life in general, and one she didn't care much for. Just look at where it had taken her. From growing and changing, into hiding away disheveled and worn down in a dusty store room, with only the occasional wine spider for company. Self inflicted isolation because it beat the alternative...

Grimacing, she ripped off the paper and crumpled it in her hand, then tossed it over a shoulder and started over. Again, from the top.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

"We will run out of paper eventually, you know."

Danta is leaning quite casually against the doorway of the stockroom, the Maverick's shirt half buttoned and his hair a desperate mess, suggesting that he has not, in fact, been cooking the books in his office as some might suggest he ought to do.

But that's neither here nor there - upon leaving said office and spotting a pale and overworked (and not looking at all put together) Ancient - of course he's had to stop by and say something. "Leave it for someone else," he suggests, "and come and have a drink with me."

Straightening up and beckoning her to come back towards his office, Danta pauses to glance over his shoulder with a raised brow. "Unless you can't be seen with me now?"

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Jumping at the sound of his voice, Maea turned with her breath caught in the throat and only breathed again after confirming that it really only was Danta. A closer look noted the disheveled mess of his hair and clothes. Where it made her look hollow eyed and ghoulish, he fairly glowed in the chaos of it and it wasn't hard to guess what he'd been up to.

"Thank you, but I don't much feel like drinking," she murmured, glancing between him and the clipboard, reluctant to stop if it meant having to think. The comment had her looking up though, frowning. "What do you mean by that?" What had she done this time? Being asked into his office was quickly turning into a bad experience and if this was how the conversation was starting off, Maea didn't look forward to the rest.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

"You can have water, then, or watch me have a good time," Danta says with an airy shrug and a devilish smile over his shoulder at her, once again beckoning insistently for her to follow. His hand is already on the door to his office as she speaks again, and the Maverick tilts his head as if wondering if she really thinks he's that deaf or dumb.

"I spoke to Astaroth," he tells her. "I think you can put the rest of those pieces together yourself. So unless suddenly I am also too monstrous to be around - which I'm going to hazard is a no given that you're still here - I'd like to speak to you now too." And he'd also like a drink, if he hasn't made it obvious.

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Ah. So it really was because of something she'd done. And once again the office would turn into a battleground, because if Asta had shared the gist of their argument then she knew exactly what they would be talking about.

"I see." Quietly putting down the pen and board down on a crate for someone else to resume later, she finally responded to the beckoning and followed him across the hallway. Stepping inside, her gaze trailed across the familiar room, taking note of everything that was similar or different from her last visit. Kiada's neat touch on the desk contrasted sharply against whatever mess the Maverick had caused in his attempts to focus; it might be her imagination, but there was something in the walls that made her uneasy. A trace of void lingering, or just a reluctance to have this conversation? It didn't really matter.

"So, what would you like to talk about?" Folding her arms across the chest, Maea opted to lean against the wall by the door. Preferably she'd be going back to work, but if Danta wanted to do this, she would humor him.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

Sidling into his office as well and sinking into the seat behind his desk, Danta rummages around for a bottle of something rich and dark, setting the liquor down alongside the glass and pouring himself a generous measure before taking a sip. What Maea decides to do and where she decides to stand or sit in the meantime is her business, though he does waggle the bottle at her as if to ask one last time if she wants some.

"I mean, I'd like to talk about how you almost got assaulted at my brothel, for a start," he says, stretching out a long leg to rest it on the corner of the desk. "And then about what happened between you and Asta afterwards. I don't think he appreciated being tarred with the same brush as a rapist, to be honest."

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Catching the repeated offer of a drink, Maea shook her head mutely, declining for a second time. Pale hands riddled with old burn scars gripped tightly around the sleeves of her shirt, uncomfortable with having to talk about the incident. It dragged up the memories all over again, renewing clarity on an experience she'd rather forget entirely.

"I don't know what there is say. I was targeted by some idiot, I froze, Asta stepped in. Simple as that." Any further scrutiny would be får too raw. Studying a pattern in the carpet near her feet, she shrugged tightly. "And if that's what Asta got out of it, he clearly wasn't listening to a word I said." Which was another upsetting topic she'd love to never think about again.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

"That wasn't some idiot, Maea," Danta objects with a skeptical raise of his brows, lifting his drink for another sip that burns against the back of his throat. "That was a predator, and he'd have hurt and taken from you without a second thought. Who knows how many people he'd already done it to, if not here then at any other number of bars or brothels." Nothing happens in a vaccuum, after all; people don't just wake up one day and decide hey, I'll sexually assault a woman today.

"And that's all the more reason for you to tell me, then, isn't it?" He tilts his head; if Asta had gotten it so wrong and Danta has only heard the butcher's side of things, then it only makes sense for Maea to use this as an opportunity to put the record straight.

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Pressing her lips together in a thin line, her unease was palpable. "What does it matter? It doesn't change the fact that I stupidly let myself get caught up in shit I should be perfectly capable of getting out of." Calling him a predator only made her feel worse. It suggested she had been targeted because she looked weak, vulnerable – it proved he'd been fucking right in thinking she wouldn't - or couldn't - fight back.

The wall against her back was thankfully solid. Pressing the back of her head against it, she fought against an urge to flare up or snap - it helped that his tone was kept even, though the feeling of being already judged wouldn't ease up.
"Alright... After the troublemakers were dealt with, Asta was acting strange. He left to go talk to the soldiers about what happened, but I thought something might be wrong, so I followed him." Foregoing sleep, unable to remain still and unwilling to be alone with her own thoughts. "I saw him enter the jail, and snuck around the side to look inside. I saw him talk to the guards. Then he went to the cell where that man was kept." Her mouth twisted in disgust, color draining from her face at the mere memory of what followed.

"He tortured the guy. He – bit a chunk out of the guys neck, and cut off pieces from him while he was still alive. And he enjoyed it, there was no mistaking that."

Nauseous, Maea had grown taught enough that her knuckles whitened around the shirt. Dragging in a rough breath, she couldn't bring herself to look at Danta. She didn't want to know what he thought; the fact that he'd already heard about it from Asta and hadn't done anything about it was proof enough of his stance already. Talking about it felt pointless... but she pressed on anyway. Because he asked her to.

"I couldn't watch anymore, so I left. Some time later Asta caught up with me, and I confronted him about what he'd done. He clearly didn't find a problem in any of it, and I told him that that reveling in the torment of others made him just as bad as this 'predator' he'd just killed. Among other things."

But apparently he'd taken that as calling him a rapist? She scoffed at that; he was bad enough as he was. Doing evil in the name of good didn't make it less evil.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

"Is that what you'd say to someone else who found themselves in your position?" Danta asks with a gentle raise of his eyebrow. "That they were stupid? That they should have been able to get out of the situation?" Sighing, he finishes his liquor and promptly pours himself another (it'll be the first of many and he suspects they both know it). "Or would you say that they couldn't be blamed for getting caught off guard? Because you shouldn't always be prepared for someone to try to assault you?"

But anyway - whatever had or hadn't occured, what happened next remains the same, and Danta falls quiet to listen. And he does listen, to all of it, even if Maea likely will be disappointed at the neutral expression on his face should she glance up at him during her retelling. Eventually, once she's finished, he lets out a deep sigh and sits up at his desk.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmurs. "Honestly, now. Can I ask what you expected to happen when you followed Asta?" He tilts his head. "He's told you about himself. He left alone, clearly not expecting a secret audience. What did you think he was going to do? When he walked to the jail, after he spoke to the guards, once he was outside the man's cell? Can you really look at me and say no part of you thought he was going to do exactly what he did? And if that's the case... you didn't stop him either."

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

"No. But I can defend myself, and it's not like it came out of the blue. I had gotten bad vibes from him for a while, so I really should have been on my guard." Stubbornly clinging to the self-reproach was better than accepting the lable as a victim. It meant acknowledging that something had happened to her over which she'd had no control - an unbearable indignity at the best of times, and too awful to bear thinking of in this case. Already her relation with her own body was so fraught; this wasn't helping at all.

Drawing a hasty breath only to stop herself and really give it proper thought, Maea glanced up at Danta briefly but returned to her scrutiny of the floor just as quickly.
"Honestly?" Rubbing her eyes wearily, she shrugged. "I wasn't really thinking much at all. When the guards led the man away, I saw Asta whisper something to him, and I did think it odd. But I thought it was about something else entirely. Maybe interrogation, maybe a warning. Maybe I even hoped to see him get roughed up a bit. But not that. I never thought Asta would do something like that." He had always been such a gentleman, so composed and suave even in the midst of an argument.

"I knew of his habits, but I really thought it was just... in emergencies. He said he was content with deer. I figured, at worst he was rummaging in the trash at the Infirmary after a surgery. And while that's still vile, I could... overlook it. Pretend it had nothing to do with me."

Looking up to meet Danta's gaze, her pale eyes were pained and troubled, full of regret over the things she'd witnessed. "I wanted to stop it. But just like before I couldn't move. I was... too afraid."

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

Huffing out a sigh and letting go of the point he's been trying to make, Danta takes another sip of liquor and leans an elbow against the desk as he listens to Maea's response with as level a mind as the Maverick is capable. (And really, it'll give him a headache later if he's not lucky). "What is the difference?" he asks. "If Asta had gone in and broken his nose or kicked in his ribs or thrown him against a wall? Is that acceptable? And if it is, why? Where's the line, exactly?"

Sitting back in his seat and rubbing at his forehead, he shakes his head to the other Ancient. "It's LongNight, Maea. There was a fight - a pretty substantial one, from all accounts - in a confined space where there's nothing around to hunt and it's too cold besides to try." Again, he wonders what she expected to gain by following a cannibal out into the night.

"Afraid of what?" he asks. "Of Asta? Or of enjoying yourself?"

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark

// somebody told me that there's two sides to this life //

Her head was starting to hurt too, from trying to untangle the knots she'd tied herself into. "No, of course not. Harming another being is never acceptable. It's a failure of the rational mind - I'm not proud of it. The difference, though, lies in the scale. A broken nose, broken ribs, they will heal. What Asta did? That's permanent. I don't care who it was done to or why - it's the fact that it was done at all that's abhorrent to me."

And Danta was defending it. Excusing it. A weight like despair started to build in her throat, cold and clammy. It tasted like disappointment and loss and nauseous upset, because she really had wanted to believe that she wrong...

And then his last question dropped. And Maea's head shot up like she'd been burned, something like panic turning her face ashen.
"No! Never - I would never -- !" Choking on the vehement denial, she shook her head violently. "It was him, and your threat, and - and if anyone ever finds out what's allowed to happen here then it'll be a witchunt that will make the Ascended's look like a game!" And mayve that would be for the best, because clearly Asta wasn't the only man eater around.

Maea

// I think I might've chosen darkness over light //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

"I suppose that's what I am to you then, as well? A failure of the rational mind?" Danta's tone remains calm, if not a little insulted, the Maverick's head tilting to the side. "One might argue that the deer we hunt deserve to live more than the man Asta disposed of - at least the deer never hurt anyone." Defending and excusing are words Maea has conjured herself to continue to cast judgement over the Grounds and its inhabitants, and Danta isn't here for it.

Raising his eyebrows, he smoothly knocks back the second glass of liquor and then, of course, goes in for a refill. "Never?" he echoes. "So you don't enjoy the hunt, when it suits you? You didn't enjoy sparring with me, pinning me, getting the better of me? It's all violence at the end of the day, Maea. Denying the parts of you that aren't as pristine as you'd like them to be will make you miserable in the long run."

"And as for what's allowed to happen here - what is that, exactly?" He scoffs. "That I don't allow anyone to get away with sexually assaulting the people who work in the Dusklight?"

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark