Let's Call it a Date, Baby

Hati paced restlessly. Alone. He was always alone. No, not always, even when he was alone there was still the whisper of memories, the hint of movement at the corner of his vision that would occasionally make him whip around to see if someone was there. He knew he was mad, how could he not? But he tried to bury it, hide it from those who mattered to him. Akemi... she was gone just now, off to who knows where. That was for the best. She wasn't safe around him. Out of the whole of the world she was the one who meant the most to him, but he valued her innocence and good heart too much to sully her with his true nature. He feared he already had ruined them with one stupid, foolish spar. Too concerned with her to summon the fury to wrap around his soul like a security blanket to protect against the memories, he was assailed by them.

Daegmar. She was... different. He couldn't remember ever meeting anyone like her before. She seemed to quell the demons inside his head just by being there. No, not quell. She charmed them - the demons sat up to watch with interest when she was around. She was so much like him, but she was smart, and calm. It made him laugh to think that Loki had actually been with her, had actually sired children with her... and that she'd managed to dump the little brats in his lap for him to deal with. If he was stupid enough to get himself tangled with a woman... But Daegmar wasn't like other women, Hati had to grudgingly admit. She was more like... a guy without the jewels. A brother in arms. A wingman. Certainly he trusted no one the way he trusted her.

Together they could burn down the world and laugh about it later.

Not a bad idea actually. Hati's teeth shone against the black of his lips as a wide grin slipped over his muzzle. What sort of... fun, could he and Daegmar get into together? His mind slipped back to her at his side, the taste of blood in his mouth as they mauled that brat of a trespasser in Arcanum. His spikey pelt nearly crackled with the excitement that shot through him at the thought. Yes, Daegmar would do. She'd charm the demons, and he could live one more night.

Heavy black head rolled back, and his rough voice tolled forth, calling for his ho-bro to come wingman for a night on the town. The world could burn at their feet and he'd die happy.



"Speech"

And besides in the meantime
I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart