(Kiltriks @ either Laksiris or Mahrvis) ஐ = slapping them
send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse slapping them
If there’s one constant in his life, it’s him. Perhaps two taking in account hisever-present fear whenever the larger Devil is even within his vicinity.
Mahrvis’ nails scratch at his wrists until theskin turns red, clutching the cloak he had been forced to remove in his muchweaker arms, his eyes almost glued to the floor. Anywhere to look but his face,he hates looking at Kiltriks face to face, and not only because it hurts hisneck to crane it up so far.
He hasn’t responded for one minute, or maybe two.The air is still between them beyond the hum of the Ketch like backgroundnoise, but it feels as if the silence is thick enough to choke him. Mahrvis’ teethgrind together briefly as his anxiety spikes again, taking in the smallest ofbreaths through the gaps of his teeth, one that rises his shoulders with it.
“Youdidn’t answer my question.”
He is most definitely smart enough to realize itisn’t a very good idea to keep Kiltriks waiting for long, but the answerrefuses to leave his mouth, like it tied his tongue into knots and sew his lipsshut. The dreg presses his back further against the wall until his shouldershurt, attempting to shrink away further from the Baron that looms over him,eyes narrowed down into a threatening and impatient glower.
“I’llgive you five seconds before I lose my patience, Mahrvis.”
He doesn’t want to say the actual answer to thequestion, though the burst of panic and paranoia that hits him is so intense heblurts out another;
The second he says it, he regrets it. Anything hesaid or wouldn’t have said he’d regret, but a much larger feeling of dreadmixed with terror passes over him so strongly he feels like he’s going tovomit, in spite of how he looks up to (try and) meet Kiltriks’ stare. The Barondoesn’t look angry, really—more dumbfounded than anything, but the moment is sobrief he isn’t even sure if he saw it.
Mahrvis blanches, attempting to look away and gounresponsive before the larger Devil’s hand forces his chin back up. He has achance to recorrect his answer, heknows that, but it still wouldn’t save him from any potential pain.Even still, in spite of the fear he feels, he tries to swallow his nerves andrepeat himself just a little bit louder, despite how his body shakes.
Another spark of confusion flickers in Kiltriks’eyes again, but fades almost as quickly as it comes to replace itself with angerand perhaps offense, and in turn just as quickly as Mahrvis had attempted tostraighten himself out to answer more defiant than before, he crumples again,shrinking backwards as his shoulders hunch, hands raising themselves.
Too soon, however, before Kiltriks raises his ownhand, claws outstretched just before striking him hard across the face, hishead jerking with the force of the hit. Mahrvis had expected it, in allhonesty, some degree of pain to hit him one way or another, literally or not;even the best of his reflexes, thebest defense he could put up are nothing compared to the Baron’s strength. He’sbeen struck before but the smack he earns for his single refusal fills him withenough pain even still for him to notice the tears that gather in the cornersof his eyes. Sucking in a strangled breath, his arms lift to shield himself andhe cowers away, shaking as his shoulders wrack with the first sob (out of bothfear and pain, though the prior far outweighs the latter) he makes. Hisshoulders scrunch up, as if attempting to hide from him both his head and his neck—hedoesn’t want that to happen again forhis negligence to answer where the second mark came from; not again.
He doesn’t see Kiltriks lift his hand again givenhow tightly shut his eyes are, but he hears the burst of static that comes fromthe Baron’s helmet, followed by a few short, static-filled words he doesn’t even have the timeto process before the moment all comes to a stop. The silence doesn’t lastlong, however, broken by what almost sounds like a forced sigh and a tested,angry growl.
Kiltriks’hand forms a fist in the scarf around Mahrvis’ neck, yanking him forward to straightenhim out just once before he speaks again, keeping it short and to the point;
“We’llcontinue this later.”
And abruptly ends their conversation after onelast shove, one hard enough for him to lose his balance and fall back againstthe wall, a gasp mixed with an almost-hiccup tearing from his throat as theother Devil suddenly storms out of the room, as if they had never spoken in thefirst place. He had left so abruptly, the smaller eliksni barely even has amoment to register what just happened before he crumples to the floor, kneestucked against his chest and face pressed to his arms as the heaving sobscontinue, the blood drawn from the strike smearing further across his face ashis shoulders shake.
It’s easy for the happiness of the new scar on hisneck to wear off when the dread and regret fills him from head to toe again.
Maybe he would’ve been better off with just theone.
