@cursedhalflife
Vano spent his time tormenting many a mortal, thriving in their fear, their screams, their anxiety. It fed him. It enthralled him. But this one little mortal he'd been tormenting for so long now had found a way to truly pique his interest.
He'd already having to get more creative with ways to scare him while he was paralyzed by Vano's smoke. The inability to move had been the biggest source of anxiety, and given what Vano was capable of? Then, these last few visits, even his smoke wasn't working. Not like it should have been anyway. That would have been more frustrating had his little mortal not used this newfound freedom in the way he did.
He'd had mortals try to fight him off before, try to kill him. It had been fun, in its own way. But no. No, no. This time, his little mortal made much more amorous noises over terrified ones, arching and grinding against him. The last night Vano was fairly certain he would have rut against him until he came if he'd allowed it.
If his little mortal wanted to play, who was Vano to deny it of him, though? Tonight began like many. He appeared in a swirl of flames and smoke, large form coming to hover over Silas. A hand pressed firm against his chest, long spindly fingers stretching up, fingertips teasing along his throat. He exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke, even if he was aware it wouldn't have it's intended effect on the mortal now. If anything it was a way to properly wake him up, let him know he was here.
