( danny doesn't feel any different. mostly he just feels hungry, and he thinks about that apple still in his pocket, browning away. he hooks his fingers into his cheek like he's bridling a horse, forking luci's blood deeper into his soft palate, all spite and curiosity and the not-dead-yet cat. his teeth scrape his knuckles clean. he wants seconds. )
I'd say that man is human, ( unhesitating, decisively. then, more thoughtfully: ) You taste kinda syrupy.
( like something he'd want in his mouth regularly, over pancakes, hold the whipped cream.
his eyes skim the sky, watching for hell portals or tentacles or twin black holes set in the face of a man-who-is-not-a-man. house was right about one thing: hope is a dead, rotten thing. no one's coming for him. here's where the sadness would go, if danny could feel anything. mostly he just feels hungry.
he looks at the minotaur's monster cock and debates putting that in his mouth, too. then he looks at luci, pacing prim circles around the statue and danny. )
— Ain't shit, huh?
( which could be a sorry or a i guess i can't play the virgin after all, if you squint. )
no subject
I'd say that man is human, ( unhesitating, decisively. then, more thoughtfully: ) You taste kinda syrupy.
( like something he'd want in his mouth regularly, over pancakes, hold the whipped cream.
his eyes skim the sky, watching for hell portals or tentacles or twin black holes set in the face of a man-who-is-not-a-man. house was right about one thing: hope is a dead, rotten thing. no one's coming for him. here's where the sadness would go, if danny could feel anything. mostly he just feels hungry.
he looks at the minotaur's monster cock and debates putting that in his mouth, too. then he looks at luci, pacing prim circles around the statue and danny. )
— Ain't shit, huh?
( which could be a sorry or a i guess i can't play the virgin after all, if you squint. )