[Training] the blood runs slow

i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

In all the excitement of returning to Torchline to celebrate Longnight, as well as Asta becoming a fucking demigod, Danta hopes he can be forgiven for neglecting the basics. He's awful at realising his bloodlust is close to the surface anyway, and only after snapping not-so-playfully at the Butcher's fingers over breakfast that morning does he realise he's liable to become a danger to the public quite soon.

So he wisely takes himself away at mid-morning, relying on a mixture of magical signposting and wheeling through the sky on the wing to get him to the fringes of the Oerwoud, where he succumbs to instinct and hunger. Large paws move with unlikely silence across soft earth and between twisting branches, whiskers twitching as he scents out something worth chasing after; a molten tiger's stripes seem better suited than his other shifts in the jungle, and before he knows it he's descended through vine and root into the Undergrowth.

The air here feels damp and oppressive, but up ahead - just beyond a large hollow created by a tangle of roots - he spies a few blink hare hopping about, and his discomfort is forgotten. Crouching flat to the ground and beginning to stalk forward, Danta is coiled like a spring, ready to strike.

The Maverick

let me wrap my teeth around the world

VESPER

The cache is meant to be somewhere in the Undergrove, left where the undergrowth folds into itself and the roots make hollows deep enough to hide more than water and old bones. Jack’s instructions had been sparse, though not unclear, and Vesper follows them with the careful patience of someone who has learned better than to question the map he's been given.

He moves without haste, pale eyes flicking from one marker to the next while the damp earth gives softly beneath his boots. A card turns once between his fingers before vanishing back into his pocket, the motion neat and nearly soundless, and his shadows keep close rather than ranging ahead, thin and dark against the roots at his feet. There is no mind waiting in the hollow ahead that he can feel, and so he gives the quiet no more weight than it seems to deserve.

The blink hares are only movement at first, small bodies shifting beyond a tangle of roots, and Vesper notes them the way he notes the drip of water or the faint glow of fungus against bark: present, but irrelevant. They scatter a moment later, quick pale shapes vanishing out of sight, and though his gaze lifts toward the hollow they have abandoned, nothing in him answers with alarm.
That is the trouble with instinct; it leaves no thought behind for him to catch. So, Vesper continues on, following the path Jack had marked for him, his attention divided between the route beneath his boots and the place where the stolen goods ought to be waiting, and because the danger ahead is all muscle, hunger, and molten stripes pressed low to the earth, he walks directly toward it without knowing it’s there.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

Danta's teeth itch with the urge to snap his jaws around one of the blink hare snuffling nearby, and so when they suddenly scatter right as the tension coiled in his body reaches fever pitch, his reaction is understandably a little bit frustrated. Sharp claws bite deep into the earth, his tail lashes, and his lips pull back from his fangs in a silent snarl that finds its voice the second he catches further movement.

It doesn't matter that it's Vesper - that's the sad truth of it, that the demigod could have been anything or anyone - and the tiger has sprung from its hiding spot with only hunger and blood in mind. The noise that tears from his throat and chest echoes through the canopy of roots and far beyond the Undergrove, sending a few birds scattering, and with a powerful leap that uses one of the roots for leverage, as well as dark, outstretched claws, he pounces for him.

---

1/4

The Maverick

let me wrap my teeth around the world

VESPER

The snarl reaches him before the tiger does, and his shoulders tighten beneath the sudden, brutal shape of the sound. For an instant there is only noise, weight, and the instinctive understanding that whatever waits ahead is no longer waiting, and then the molten tiger breaks from the tangle of roots with its claws outstretched and hunger written through every line of its body. "Fuck," Vesper breathes, and vanishes into mist.

He reappears a few feet aside, close enough for the force of Danta’s leap to move the air against him, one boot sliding over damp earth. Any sensible man would have kept moving until there were several kilometres between himself and the enormous cat now occupying the space where he had just been standing, but arriving empty-handed because he had been startled by a predator wouldn't hold water with Jack. More than that, Vesper has no desire to spend the rest of the morning letting the Oerwoud decide how much of his patience it means to take, so, unwisely perhaps, he stays.

His shadows answer him in a rush, spilling up from his feet and drawing themselves high around his shoulders until his outline stretches larger against the dim glow of the undergrowth. They climb behind him in dark, wavering planes, widening his shape without quite becoming wings, while thinner strands snap outward to seize at roots, vines, and hanging leaves. The hollow stirs around him as if something much larger has begun to move through it, foliage shuddering in a widening circle while Vesper holds his ground with his chin slightly lifted and his pale eyes fixed on the tiger. "You fuck off now," he says, low and controlled, the drawl stripped nearly smooth by concentration as his fingers flex once at his side.

---

1/4
Magic: Misty Step | Can teleport up to 30ft away
Type: Light | Rank: Upgraded | Cost: Action

Magic: Dark Matter Tendrils | Vesper may condense dark matter into tendrils. Control is excellent, and multiple tendrils may be created at once. (In quests or other combat situations requiring dice rolling, only 3 tendrils may be created per post). Range 60ft.
Type: Dark | Rank: Mastered | Cost: Action

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

One might argue that Danta's sense of danger is skewed even on a good day, but caught at the height of his bloodlust and this is a match made in hell for the both of them. His claws swipe at nothing but mist and air where soft flesh should have been, his landing made clumsy by the sudden lack of prey pinned beneath him.

Still, he whips around immediately at the smooth drawl of a voice, ears pinning back at the sudden shadows that rear up and around the man (he realises it's a man at last, though there's regrettably no recognition to be had in him right now). For a small and wavering second he considers running, because shadows acting like more than shadows is a No Good Very Bad Time even when they're coming from Asta - which these aren't.

But the moment passes in a flood of adrenaline and fury at yet another missed opportunity, and so despite himself, Danta does not fuck off now. Instead he prowls forward a few steps, as if to see what the shadows might do, before leaping at Vesper a second time in an attempt to pin him to the ground.

---

2/4

The Maverick

let me wrap my teeth around the world

VESPER

For a moment, Vesper thinks the creature might choose sense over appetite. It is not much of a moment, granted, but it is there in the way the tiger checks itself, ears flattening as the shadows rise and the undergrowth trembles around them. Vesper does not move, though his head tilts faintly to one side, pale eyes steady on the molten shape before him as if patience alone might finish what intimidation has started. The barrier of darkness at his back shifts with him, broad and restless, while the smaller strands keep their grip on root and vine, making the hollow shiver in warning.

Then the tiger comes on again, and Vesper draws a breath sharply through his teeth as his shadows snap inward, no longer arranged for threat or spectacle but gathered hard around him, folding over his chest, shoulders, arms, and throat in a dark, starlit skin. The impact still takes him off his feet, though, there is no elegance to the way his back hits the ground, no clean avoidance or graceful turn of mist this time, only the brutal weight of the tiger’s momentum driving him flat against damp earth while the air leaves his lungs in a thin, controlled sound he has no chance of disguising.

---

2/4
Magic: Celestial Shield | Can create a spherical shield out of starlight to encompass two characters side by side, within 30ft. The shield lasts for one round.
Type: Light | Rank: Upgraded | Cost: Action

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

Danta's blood sings with the victory of it, and though his claws are left trying to shred at shadows rather than soft and yielding flesh, it's enough for a few seconds to have succeeded in the capture. His tail lashes behind him, eyes flat and predatory as he considers the bands of darkness and the strange, starlit shield that springs to life around his prey. It's one of those occasions that, when sense returns, the penny will drop and he'll line up Vesper's face with the young man from the Temple some time ago.

For now, alas, he's just meat, and whatever magic he's conjured is getting in the way of him being meat. Snarling in the demigod's face and starting to drip molten metal from his stripes, he descends to try and tear at Vesper's shoulder - and his throat, if he can get to it.

---

3/4

The Maverick

let me wrap my teeth around the world

Starlight gutters across the darkness in thin, failing seams, and then there is nothing between Vesper and the tiger’s mouth but the narrow space left for breath. Teeth sink into his shoulder with a precision that feels almost surgical until the pain follows, white and immediate, and for one disorienting moment he cannot tell whether the fire lancing through him belongs to the clean violence of the bite or to the molten heat rolling off the creature above him.

The sound he makes is low and unwilling, dragged out of him as his body answers before dignity can interfere. His hand tightens uselessly against the earth, silver rings biting into his palm, and then the damp ground beneath his back dissolves into mist. Vesper reappears behind the tiger with one knee nearly giving beneath him, his injured shoulder drawn tight and blood already slipping dark down his arm. Pulling a breath sharply through his nose, the shape of the problem clarifies itself with unpleasant ease: in this body, at this distance, against that much muscle and hunger, he's never going to be able to do anything more than dart around the big cat. 

The change hits in a rush of shadow and tide-dark motion, folding him down into something heavier and far better suited to teeth and claws. A tide jaguar plants itself where Vesper had stood, blood dripping from one shoulder, ears pinned flat against his skull as his roar tears through the hollow with no trace of drawled restraint left to soften the message that he won't be backing down.

---

3/4

all these little things together don't build up to somethin' small

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

The blood is sweet and addictive and not enough, especially when the boy vanishes from beneath him in a swathe of mist that has him roaring in anger. Claws swipe and rake at the earth in frustration, Danta whipping around with a bloody maw in search of the prize that has escaped his clutches, just in time to find man becoming tide jaguar. And there's something about the appearance of a fellow big cat that almost makes it worse, that introduces the idea of a competitor for a meal he'd been certain was his to take.

Never mind that the jaguar was the meal - now it's just something else to fight and maim and (hopefully) feast upon. And with the taste of crimson already coating his tongue it's little surprise that his bloodlust is fully in charge now, Danta surging forward with tooth and claw to attack.

---

4/4

The Maverick

let me wrap my teeth around the world

Vesper meets Danta head-on because there is no clean way out of the attack now, only the narrow choice between yielding ground and making the tiger pay for taking it. He lunges low, weight shifting instinctively away from the shoulder already opened beneath Danta’s teeth, the wounded side kept tight and guarded as best as muscle and momentum allow.

When they collide, he twists into the force rather than against it, claws biting for purchase while his jaws snap toward the tiger’s shoulder in answer. It is not graceful and it's not restrained, but there is precision in it all the same, a cold thread of intention beneath the animal shape as Vesper drives his teeth down as if the debt of pain can be balanced in kind.

Already, Vesper can tell that even shifted, he won't overpower the big cat as he might have otherwise have done had he relied on just magic alone. Whether that will prove to be a flaw that ultimately comes back to bite him just as painfully as Danta's teeth had, he supposed he'll soon find out.

---

4/4

all these little things together don't build up to somethin' small

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

The difference between them, ultimately, is self-preservation. (And hunger, though that much has been obvious from the very beginning). Danta doesn't try to twist away from Vesper's teeth, merely using the opportunity of the other feline getting closer to bring his own jaws to bear against any available part of him. One large paw comes up too, trying and carve deep into fur and flesh, and as the scent of blood starts to soak through the air, it feels less like a fight and more like a celebration.

The scuffle is brief but savage, and as Danta tears himself away it's with a maw stained with fresh scarlet and his mind swimming with the fight. It's too low and too contained to shift into anything larger down here, and besides which, his instincts and the tiger's are so tightly woven together that, at this point, the Ancient hiding beneath the shift may as well not exist. And so if Vesper doesn't want a fight to the death, he will need to be the one to decide against it.

The Maverick

let me wrap my teeth around the world

VESPER

For a while, instinct answers instinct. Vesper gives ground only when the force of Danta’s body demands it, and even then he returns in the next breath with claws raking, jaws snapping, wounded shoulder held close until some opening makes the pain worth ignoring. Blood warms the dark fur along his side and chest; some of it is his, some of it is not, and the distinction matters less with every clash of teeth and molten heat. The tide jaguar’s body knows the language being spoken here too well to refuse it, and while this isn't the same as the last time he and the Maverick had found themselves made briefly wordless by appetite, it's a near enough thing.

Minutes drag themselves out in torn fur, churned earth, and the sharp, wet sound of breath forced through teeth, until the human thread of Vesper’s mind begins to understand what his body will not: The tiger is not yielding. Whatever claim Vesper makes in blood, Danta only answers with more of it, and the hollow they are tearing apart does not become his simply because he insists upon it.

He staggers back a few steps, sides heaving, ears flattened and eyes fixed on the molten cat until his gaze cuts once toward the hollowed trunk nearby. The cache should be there, tucked into a space too narrow for either of them as they are, and the decision arrives with the same clean certainty as a winning hand laid face-up on a table.

Turning, Vesper makes a run for it. The tide jaguar launches toward the black mouth of the trunk, far too broad to fit until the shape of him breaks midair into something smaller, darker, and quicker. A black Maine coon lands inside the hollow in a spill of shadow and fur, tucking himself hard into the cramped dark with his wounded shoulder drawn close, and from within the narrow shelter comes a low, vicious snarl that rises into a hiss, all teeth and warning from a place the tiger cannot easily follow.

rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

Vesper's eyes flick towards the hollow of the tree and Danta's, of course, follow immediately. He doesn't know what the jaguar has planned but he knows it involves movement, that it involves retreat rather than another bout of teeth and claws. And when he dives for the hole the tiger is hot on his heels, a large paw swiping hard for something that, quite promptly, shrinks in midair. Snarling a mix of surprise and outrage as jaguar becomes kitty cat, Vesper disappears into the small web of roots, leaving Danta to more or less collide with them.

His roar is likely something monstrous as it echoes into the hollow, claws raking at the roots and paw pads scrabbling to get into the hollow without ever finding purchase. With blood still thick in the air, though, Danta doesn't give up immediately. The sound of his impatience and frustration thunder through the Undergrove with repeated (unsuccessful) attacks on Vesper's hidey hole, every hiss and yowl only riling him up further, and only the eventual drop in adrenaline and the return of his gnawing hunger have him considering easier prey.

Still, it's with one last, deafening snarl into the hollow that Danta finally springs away, stalking off into the network of tree roots and leaving considerable carnage in his wake. But Vesper, at least, will remain in one piece.

~FIN

The Maverick

let me wrap my teeth around the world