05-01-2020, 07:00 PM
"Oh!" Draco purrs, delighted by Lilliana's futile spark, "Aren't you just the cutest when throwing insults? It's too bad your magic is nothing against mine." His eyes flicker erratically from her face to their surroundings and then back down to her - repeating that cycle for the next few moments. The demon lingers in the chestnut mare's thoughts for a moment, picking away at what button to push next. "It's not our fault Nerine is too weak to keep up with her territory's leaders. You were practically asking to be stolen from . . . Besides, do you really think such magical entities are your property?" he adds, shrugging his shoulders tauntingly.
Draco savors the fear in Lilliana's eyes, taking a bite out of it as if it is a ripe red apple. She is a ripe red apple, he realizes. He wants to take a bite of her, too.
Any threat falls on deaf ears. Here, trapped and alone and afraid, Lilli is nothing. Draco has nothing to fear. Even now, as the possible death of a Taigan ambassador hangs heavy in the air, the demon does not fear any kingdom's retaliation. Anaxarate will take care of them as she relishes their violence, and if she doesn't - Ghaul and Draco are more than capable of wreaking their own havoc.
"Spear us into the sea, huh?" he questions, feigning a scholar's musing voice. "Interesting choice of words for a territory so lacking what it takes to be violent." Draco pauses, pressing closer to Lilliana, pushing so that their skin might touch - so that her throat might clog with an even worse discomfort than they afforded his brother. Stained teeth and bright eyes flash with Hell's fury. They will pay for their insolence, he thinks. For their inflated confidence and for being no more fierce than a buzzing fly. "You are merely irritating and insolent to Pangea, but fine - believe what you must. It is not Pangea that you must spear, but Carnage. It is his land, and I don't think he is displeased with the blood that stains its dust," Draco states boldly.
"Now," he starts, tilting his head, "stop being so goddamn annoying or I will make you regret it."
Draco savors the fear in Lilliana's eyes, taking a bite out of it as if it is a ripe red apple. She is a ripe red apple, he realizes. He wants to take a bite of her, too.
Any threat falls on deaf ears. Here, trapped and alone and afraid, Lilli is nothing. Draco has nothing to fear. Even now, as the possible death of a Taigan ambassador hangs heavy in the air, the demon does not fear any kingdom's retaliation. Anaxarate will take care of them as she relishes their violence, and if she doesn't - Ghaul and Draco are more than capable of wreaking their own havoc.
"Spear us into the sea, huh?" he questions, feigning a scholar's musing voice. "Interesting choice of words for a territory so lacking what it takes to be violent." Draco pauses, pressing closer to Lilliana, pushing so that their skin might touch - so that her throat might clog with an even worse discomfort than they afforded his brother. Stained teeth and bright eyes flash with Hell's fury. They will pay for their insolence, he thinks. For their inflated confidence and for being no more fierce than a buzzing fly. "You are merely irritating and insolent to Pangea, but fine - believe what you must. It is not Pangea that you must spear, but Carnage. It is his land, and I don't think he is displeased with the blood that stains its dust," Draco states boldly.
"Now," he starts, tilting his head, "stop being so goddamn annoying or I will make you regret it."
@[lilliana]
hitch a ride on my violence