❛ ᴅɪᴀʙᴏʟɪᴄᴀʟ.

a soft chuckle  —  eyebrows lift slightly in some sort of incredulous fashion  ;  a smirk of their own soon reaching thin lips.  regardless of the previous retort, it still feels like they shouldn’t NEED to even offer a proper answer  …   at this point, bune should know. the prince of greed can hardly ever say no to such violent delights.       ❛  i’m hurt.  ❜      they  s m i l e.                  ❛  thought ye’d know better than tae ASK ;                          just lead the way, bunny-boy.   ❜

he had anticipated such a response. wordless or not ; he likes to ask, for he is polite ;  ( even when coated toe to tip in crisp red blotches and spatters. )  the smirk extends. a step behind ; he examines his catch as any predator does. the essence is gone. they must seek more.     ❛    i like ta’ think of myself as somethin’ that still has it’s . . . civility.    ❜     though no more words are yet spoken in the air between them  ------  bune’s steps make haste to the mouth of the alley.

‘ i don’t want this—— who would? but even you must ‘ave heard the rumours. ’  & so what?  r e f o r m ?  well… it was no SECRET from bune that, though  h e s i t a n t, she wanted it.  ‘ whether you like eet or not, we’re one of them. it will affect us, for better or for worse… & unless we do something, eet will be the latter, without a doubt. ’  her next pause was a  l a b o u r e d  one.  ‘ we can’t be the ONLY ones who think this. ’

looking out to the waves, grey despite her not being colourblind alike the BROTHER on her right, she’ll ponder upon her next words, somewhat carefully…  ‘ —& besides; i’m tired. ’

              ‘ but we cannot assume we AREN’T. ’

spoken in an entirely stern voice, even in spite of his sentiments toward the thing itself ; he would join her in her desire, for he wanted  CHANGE  all the same. their people were not of the same species, but in goal they are united; even if the hatred still feathers from the wound. dantalion and bune were one in the same. they were both desperate for a difference.

but he looks to her, then, with a degree of renewed regret. he was a monster as much as the word gave rise, and he still felt the metallic taste of blood on his tongue from a previous endeavour ; a distraction, mind, from his own similar  f a t i g u e . but she? she handles it far better than he.

sometimes you win  —  sometimes your demon owner fucks up with your all-time favorite jacket  …  maybe that’s just life for the likes of their hosts, they don’t get to decide on much anymore.    a slight SIGH falls from chapped lips   ;   the query seeming highly unnecessary.  for all they know, such hunger usually SHOWS, whether the creature wants it or not.     a scoff.                     ❛  why  —  ye gonna cook it for me? ❜

expression changes not;  save, mind, for the perpetual presence of a smirk that seems betwixt in the chasms of his lips. two unnaturally dark eyes focus humidly on the other, as if piercing through the vessel and to the  ( darkness )  within; he cocks his head to the side. the wind picks up  ----  a sweet scent of ripe  FLESH  filling his nostrils  d e l i g h t f u l l y.

‘ eet’s unbelievably poor timing for a civil war,’  she’ll observe to herself, eyes closing against the wind, COLD & BITING upon the pale skin that was now covered by a  g e n t l e  layer of goosebumps —— for,  y e s, she could feel the  c h i l l.

for a moment, she’ll let the inevitable SILENCE settle — for, of course, it shall. & it’s comfortable, for with them, when is it not? still, it can only last so long.  ‘ we can’t merely… w a i t  for things to ‘appen. commanded or not. others won’t, & the  c o n s e q u e n c e s… they don’t bear thinking. —you   k n o w   that. ’

his gaze hangs low. yes, he . . . yes. he does know that.  he would do well to remember it, from time to time, though his  ( impatience )  can get the  BETTER  of him on occasion ------ even though the better in a demon is still the worst thing imaginable. his hand raises; crooked, yellowing teeth, start to bite at his host’s nails.

                        ❛  tha’ much blood ?  ❜ the look on dark hues seems almos judgy  —  in some sort of ‘you should’ve known better’ way    ;    the entity takes a single step forwards, intrigued … or, perhaps, simply drawn to the SMELL && the sight as a whole.  it almost makes them  ( hungry ),   like the spark to light a great fire, ready to devour everything.      BUT, the keep composure.   sigh, shrug. smile.                         ❛  i’d say ye just BURN it, mate.                            get a new one. a better one.  ❜

                        ❛  -- ah. was his   f a v o u r i t e.  ❜

no, no, he senses that energy;  bune senses that   DRIVE.   for he has the same. a sort of hunger, scarcely sated, scarcely muted ; ---- it makes them  ( mad. )  the quirk of a smirk !!  paws drop the limp, lifeless form, like a child dropping a used doll  -------- a step forward to meet the other more closely.

she supposes, to an extent, that they have it  e a s y  —  the djinn. there’s no expiration date to a vessel of their kind, for their presence only makes them STRONGER. but in that strength, there comes something else…   n e c e s s i t y . 

sitting, smoothing down her dress as she sat upon his left, she’ll give a BITTER little  s m i l e  before repeating his own words back to him;   ‘ —getting far worse before eet gets better. or, at least, i HOPE. who knows? ’   of course, the goetic court’s   s t r i f e   continued; serpents dancing betwix the grass, leaving nothing more or less than VENOM in their wake.   —& can i claim much different?

a staunch laugh.  ( HIGH & COMELY. )  the great duke peers with unnatural wanderlust at his vessel’s fingertips; callous, yes, from extensive exercise; a cruel body, capable of so  m u c h .  until his gaze; a gaze he allows to flicker charcoal black, to which it becomes endlessly so; over the crippling waves. he remembers, briefly, of his castle in hell, and it’s foetid waters -- he has almost became  FOND  of the cleaner bodies of earth. though he’d never admit it.