[SE] by faith, not by sight

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Heeeeeeeeey. Thanks for coming - and apologies it isn't at our usual meeting place." Danta offers Flora an oh-so-casual wave where he's leaning against the open, arched doorway of the Temple, the Maverick straightening up only when she's close enough to usher inside. With the sun setting on the heat drenched days of Longheat, this afternoon finds him in his usual eclectic fashion, but perhaps with a few more layers involved.

In a pair of tight leather pants with a fine mesh tank top and an absurdly chunky cardigan thrown around his shoulders, Danta waits uncharacteristically for Flora to have actually stepped into the Temple before he swoops in to deliver a kiss to her cheek. "It's good to see you," he says, and he means it, letting the door drop shut behind them with an obnoxious, echoing boom.

His letter to request and enjoy Flora's company wasn't really able to convey the sense of haha please come though that he's felt, but he did send it in the shape of an origami crab, and that obviously means danger. "How have things been? Asta is being weird," he says, blurting the last part out before he can help himself.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

with each love i cut loose i was never the same

Flora steps in like she owns the place—because honestly, even temples feel like runways if you dres right—and the echo of the door closing only seems to crown her entrance. She’s dressed in fitted jeans and a dusky rose sweater with an open back and delicate golden threading that catches the afternoon light like something enchanted. Bangles chime softly at her wrist as she slides an arm easily around Danta’s waist, giving him a quick, affectionate squeeze.

"Gods, look at you," she grins up at him, nose wrinkling with fond delight. "If I’d known we were layering now, I’d have brought my dramatic cloak." She leans into the kiss on her cheek, her curls brushing his shoulder before she pulls back just far enough to level him with a knowing, arched brow. "It’s good to see you too," she echoes warmly.

But then—weird, he says—and the queen’s ears perk like a cat catching the sound of gossip tumbling off a high shelf. "Oh?" she chirps, nudign his hip with playful insistence. "Say more."

Gif snipped by Sky <3

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Me? Look at you." With a fanged grin at Flora, Danta spends a few seconds admiring the twinkling threads of her sweater, spinning her gently in place to see it from all angles, soft and backless and perfectly wrapped against her curves. "You can add the cloak next time," he assures her with a wink. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to get too warm. It's only Leafchange, but you know how we get in the cold."

Leading her further into the Temple, Danta's footsteps are slow and easy, content to stroll towards the shrine where he'd suggested he might introduce Flora to his favourite lady other than her fine self. Resting a hand in his pocket, he groans and tips his head back as he tries to find the words to describe Asta's recent attitude change, the Maverick laughing under his breath in the end and gazing back towards her.

"Where do I start? He tried to bite our bartender yesterday. His crime? Tapping me on the shoulder." He raises his eyebrows as if to say yes, really. "He's also real fighty with everyone who gets too close to us, whether it's Dusklight workers, customers or people we know well. It's why I suggested we meet here, because I didn't want to have to yell at him if he was an ass to you."

Turning to walk backwards to face Flora, Danta lowers his voice as if tell her in no uncertain terms that this is the juiciest bit. "Weirdest part of all? He wants to fuck constantly. Like all the time. And you know Asta - he's not exactly..." He gestures to himself, hoping the meaning is clear: a slut. He's not a slut like Danta.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

with each love i cut loose i was never the same

"I do know how you get," Flora purrs with a devilish grin, her gaze flicking meaningfully down the line of Danta’s cardigan-clad chest before snapping back up with mock innocence. "All hard and stiff ." The innuendo drips like honey off her tongue, and the smile she tosses him is pure mischief.

She slips easily into stride beside him, content to stay tucked into the crook of his arm as they move deeper into the temple. Her bangles click with each step, a rhythmic accompaniment to Danta’s voice. When he mentions Asta’s bartender assault, Flora lifts one perfectly arched brow. "Oh nooo," she says, tone mock-serious. "Not shoulder crimes." But her teasing falters just slightly at the idea that Asta might've been rude to her, and her nose wrinkles faintly, considering Asta being rude a far more serious offense than a chomp. Her smirk resurfaces just in time for Danta to swivel and face her, and when that juicy little detail drops—well, Flora's grin stretches slow and knowing, eyes narrowing with delighted intrigue. "Ohhhhhh," she drawls, low and wicked.

She leans in like she’s sharing temple gossip with the altar itself, voice lowering just enough to match his. "Ronin used to get like that every Leafchange when I was a kid. Just—feral." She makes a little flourish with her fingers like a magic trick gone hormonal. "Had something to do with his deer shift, I think" Her nose scrunches again, this time fond and resigned. "I dunno if he still does it, though. But," Flora's head tilts. "Asta doesn't have any shifts like that, does he?"

Gif snipped by Sky <3

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Mm, that's right," Danta agrees with a catlike smile, "but you know, the heat from a warm body can do wonders for us when we're like that. Just in case you ever feel like playing hot water bottle." He winks, resisting the urge to glance around in case of any spying Astaroths, relaxing when it appears they are mostly alone in the Temple but for a few priests and worshippers.

Giving an exaggerated nod - rudeness and shoulder crimes, oh my - and tucking one hand casually in his pocket, Danta slows his backward-directed footsteps so he might lean in closer to Flora as she imparts her much-needed wisdom. Granted, what she has to say sounds utterly ridiculous at first, the Maverick letting his arm rest casually about her shoulders again.

"Augh," he says pointedly (and that's a fight between oh and ew, between you and I), raising his eyebrows at her. "His deer shift? Fuck. I... well, now that you mention it, year. He got a feirw shift earlier this year." And surprise surprise, this is the first Leafchange with it. "Are you telling me that Asta - you know, our Asta, is going crazy because he's suddenly a fighty horny stag?"

Danta pulls a face, though it's more curious than disgusted. "Huh," he says. "And this could happen every year?"

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

with each love i cut loose i was never the same

Flora's grin turns positively brazen, her gaze flickering up through her lashes as if she’s pulling a memory like silk from a drawer. "Mmm, well," she purrs, mischief curling through her voice like smoke, "the two of you sure showed me a good time, one I'd happily repeat. Honestly, whatever works for your schedules.”" The wink that follows is pure sin, unapologetic and golden in the fading temple light.

As Danta slips back into place beside her, Flora leans into him with casual intimacy, her shoulder brushing against his cardigan with every other step. Her brows lift as he peers at her, and she gives a nonchalant shrug. "No idea what a feirw is—sounds like a firecracker with hooves—but if it’s got antlers and testosterone, I wouldn’t be surprised." She pauses, thoughtful. "Asta has always been a bit murdery. And territorial. And, you know, hotter-than-he-knows-it in that whole possessive ‘mine’ way he gets with you, soooo maybe the shift just turned the volume up."

The idea of it happening every year earns a quiet, amused hum from her, followed by a knowing look. "As far as I know, Ronin still does it." She gestures vaguely, as if conjuring up moss and pheromones. "Remi sort of makes it into a whole special-occasion thing for them. Like a seasonal festival, but with fewer clothes, going for runs and more antlers." Her tone is breezy, but the smirk she tosses Danta is anything but innocent. "Maybe you boys just need to lean into it. Get a crown of branches. Make up some rituals. Frolic beneath the moon." Then again, that seemed par for the course when it came to being an Ancient anyhow, so maybe all those things were already on their to-do lists.

Gif snipped by Sky <3

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Well, I can tell you that our schedule is probably full of deer-related nonsense until Deepfrost, if what you said about Asta is true," Danta says with a suitably dramatic sigh. "But, y'know, if I can get a few hours by myself, I'm always happy to offer you a repeat performance." Alas, he isn't aware that Flora had never gotten the opportunity to put her skills to the test on her ex, but that doesn't mean he wasn't still impressed by them.

"You're not entirely wrong," he says through a laugh at her description of the fire-antlered deer. "It's a cousin of the luxere, so I've been told, but equipped to survive in The Climb. I'm sure your imagination can do enough with that." Stompy, fighty and fiery (and prancy, but he hasn't had the pleasure of seeing that yet). Letting out a wistful breath at her description of Asta - hotter-than-he-knows-it by far, certainly - Danta can only nod his agreement.

And as far as leaning into it goes, if anyone is equipped to handle such chaos, it's the Maverick, and as they halt in front of the entrance to Dygra's shrine, the grin that spreads across his lips is all wicked indulgence. "You're right of course," he says. "Gods am I even more glad I came to see you now. Anyway, are you ready to meet one of the other special ladies in my life?"

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

with each love i cut loose i was never the same

Flora grins at Danta’s sigh, one brow arching high as she gives him a slow, appraising once-over—appreciative and teasing in equal measure. "Mmm, that does sound tempting," she hums, lashes fluttering before her expression shifts into mock concern. "Right up until you come back smelling like me and Asta shows up at my door with those glowing eyes and his very spooky new ability." She leans in a little, stage-whispering like it’s a true secret. "Although...if we used that new rage room of yours, would you even smell like me after?" Her head tilts, golden curls spilling down one shoulder.

But when they reach the entrance to the shrine, her smile softens—still bright, but with a flicker of nerves beneath. Flora eyes the entrance like someone who’s seen far too many divine egos up close, and gives a low whistle under her breath. "Oh, I’m ready," she says, but the words come with a wry twist of her lips. "But just so we’re clear, if this kicks off some celestial catfight between Dygra and Safrin, I am not taking the blame." Her finger taps lightly against Danta’s chest, just once.

Gif snipped by Sky <3

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Ah, well. Yes," Danta concedes with a wince as he considers the repercussions of Asta finding out about any rendezvous they might plan. "Though you make a good point about the rage room. I should smell exactly as I did when I walked in, I imagine." Bouncing his eyebrows at Flora, he gestures just ahead where the smoulder blossoms adorn an otherwise innocuous looking door. "It's just there if ever you want to give it a go." He winks.

Some of the amusement fades, however, as she mentions the butcher's newest recovered ability; no matter how exposure therapy is going, his immediate reaction is still tension and wariness. "Ah, you heard about that, I see. The less spooky we provoke in him this season the better, in my opinion."

But then the shrine is upon him, and at Flora's poke to his chest Danta can't help but scoff out a laugh. "I will take all the blame," he assures her, "but between you and I, my money's on Dygra." Without further ado he opens the door and steps inside, holding it open for the Doubletake to enter.

The room is orchid-house warm, torches burning softly in their sconces, and the iron heavy scent of old blood laces through the air. Not a solemn man by nature, the change in the Maverick is nonetheless immediate, and it's in respectful silence that he shrugs out of his cardigan to hang it on a nearby hook and approaches the altar. The enormous slab of obsidian - smooth, sleek order descending into jagged chaos in an instant - shimmers gently in the light of the flame, as if listening.

"Hello, dark lady," Danta purrs. "I've brought someone quite exceptional with me today. May I present the Queen of Torchline herself."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

with each love i cut loose i was never the same

Flora casts a sidelong glance toward the rage room door, the fiery blooms flickering like a dare. If there’s a secret to staying friends with someone like Danta—sharp of jaw and quicker of tongue—it’s probably the blessed absence of any lingering sexual tension. Friends could have casual sex when there was nothing cloying beneath it, no yearning thrumming under the skin. That she didn’t want him in that way—at least not constantly, not destructively—was what made it possible. Safe. Like a vacation she knew she wouldn’t be tempted to extend. Still, she chuckles softly, the sound low and bright. "Given how this season’s going, I'd probably use it first to smash up everything inside."

But it’s Danta’s divine allegiances that make her eyes narrow with mock betrayal as he predictably picked Dygra over Safrin in a fight. The feigned outrage is quick to melt into a grin, but a little hiss of breath escapes her as she steps through the shrine’s door.

The air shifts. Heavy with iron, thick as a jungle after rain. It fills her lungs with something both rich and strange, and despite the silk of her curls and the jingling of her rings, Flora quiets. The temple demands it. Even if Dygra wasn’t her goddess, Flora can recognise power when she feels it. And respect isn’t the same thing as allegiance.

As Danta makes his introduction, Flora offers a small waggle of her fingers in greeting, rings flashing in the torchlight. "Hiya," she says, her voice carrying that same reverent mischief she used with Frey and, on occasion, Ludo. "I know we haven’t met before, but I’ve heard what you’ve done...how you freed the Ascended after the Voice fell. Took them in when no one else cared. That meant a lot to people I care about."

Her eyes stray to the jagged end of the obsidian slab. "So...thanks for that."

Gif snipped by Sky <3

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

Smashing up everything inside the rage room isn't a terrible idea either, or so says the bright and wicked glint in Danta's eyes, and rest assured whatever flavour it takes when it comes to Flora burning off some extra energy (and/or lingering feelings), he's up for it. For now, though, he's more like bottled chaos, refined and willing to be directed under the will of the goddess who made him, and as Flora steps up beside him, he smiles to hear her speak. It's so unapologetically her that he can't imagine Dygra would ever disapprove.

"And thank you for your assistance in keeping the Hollowed Grounds safe," he continues, bowing his head respectfully. "More was planned between us, I know, but now that the threat has left Caido, perhaps we can turn our attention back to more interesting endeavours." Ones that might appeal to the core of what makes the Ancients who they are, rather than endlessly striving to be protected from an outside threat.

Smiling across at Flora, Danta raises his hand deliberately to demonstrate, reaching out to slice his fingers against the jagged shard of obsidian. He raises the bloody digits to his lips as if to offer a kiss along with his lifeblood, before allowing the crimson to drip along the slab of obsidian. Once, perhaps, he might have made a fine priest of Dygra. And if ever being a Theocrat loses its charm, the trouble he and Charlie could get into would be boundless.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

with each love i cut loose i was never the same

Flora watches Danta with a catlike stillness, head tilted as the blood blooms fresh across the Maverick's fingers—bright against obsidian, sacred in its simplicity. There’s a reverence in his offering that doesn’t feel performative, and maybe that’s what holds her gaze longer than intended. He wears his chaos like silk, but beneath it, there's always something sharp, something deeply loyal to the roots he was carved from.

Still, she isn't inclined to mimic him exactly. Pain has already left so many offerings in her wake—teeth and tears and bruised ribs and broken hearts—and she’s not eager to bleed for a goddess she doesn’t serve, no matter how much she respects what Dygra’s done. But that doesn’t mean she won’t make her own kind of offering.

So instead, Flora sidles up beside Danta with a slow, languid grace. Her hands slide around the back of his neck, and with a grin that’s half mischief and half dare, she rises onto the tips of her toes. The kiss she presses to his mouth is warm and unhurried as she steals the blood he’s already spilled, drawing the copper taste between her lips.

Then, just as easily, she turns away, curls bouncing as she moves to the altar. Without hesitation, she presses her mouth—now marked by both of them—against the obsidian slab. "There," she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder with a wink.

Gif snipped by Sky <3

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

Focused almost entirely on his offering, Danta barely realises that Flora has gotten so close until her warmth of her arms slipping around his neck has him angling towards her automatically. His bloody lips are forming a question that rapidly becomes unimportant, his arm slipping around her waist of its own accord as he kisses her back, slow and unapologetic. Left reeling as Flora swans away with her stolen offering (Dygra would approve, no doubt), the Maverick can only watch in quiet awe as she plants a kiss upon the altar.

"And you're certain you have no desire to join us over here on the warm side of the pillow?" he asks, voice low, expression hazy with unfettered appreciation; blood and fire and kissing will do that to an Ancient, as she well knows. "You'd look so good with horns, Flora."

Taking a purposefully deep breath, he holds out his hand - the one he hasn't sliced up - out for her so they might depart the shrine. "Come on, in case sweet Dygra decides to taste you for herself after that performance."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

with each love i cut loose i was never the same

As Danta’s lips meet hers, Flora hums softly in satisfaction, a low sound of contentment and mischief that lingers like perfume in the space between them. There’s nothing tentative in her touch—only the confidence of someone who knows precisely what she’s doing, even as she makes a slow, sinuous turn away from him, leaving behind the ghost of a kiss on the stone and a smear of blood like lipstick on obsidian.

Her grin is already in place when she glances over her shoulder, sharp as broken coral and just as dazzling. "Absolutely sure," she purrs, lashes fanning low as her hips sway with theatrical flourish. "And let’s be honest, babe, there’s very little I don’t look good in." The wink she throws him is golden and shameless, gleaming like sun on the sea.

When he offers his unsullied hand, she takes it without hesitation, curling her fingers into his like something entirely too pleased with herself. "You know," she muses aloud as he leads her out of the shrine’s heat and heady weight, "maybe I should see if Safrin would like this sort of worship."

Gif snipped by Sky <3