[ ashe's temper is a gunshot crack, not a slow-burn bleed, and delta thinks very briefly that he might be fucked. they're both fucked. he wedges his feet into his high-tops, snapping his sand-crusted jacket over his shoulders, and rolls on his knees to assess the damage. maybe it's not that bad. maybe he can still salvage this.
six explained to him once that the veil is a mirror, walls of pristine glass caging the dead in a cold and empty world. sometimes an angry soul can punch through the glass only to come face-to-face with a reflection of themselves, and then another wall after that, and another, and another, and another. the walls never end because the glass self-repairs, and the dead can't join the living. earth's only law, governed by a force higher than any man, living or decomposed.
there are exceptions to this law.
things darker than the dead, from places other than earth, can slip through the temporary cracks, dragging a wandering soul back with it. or, in delta's case, he not only has the launch codes but he's the atom bomb solution to every unbreakable barrier separating earth from all worlds, and he just kamikazed the fuck out of every wall keeping this dead man's grimy hands from ashe's unsuspecting mortal body.
the veil glimmers like molten flame, still reeling from delta's assault, visible only to his eye. he holds his breath as the man draws closer and the smell gets worse. he doesn't have time for this, not when ashe is still here bitching about inconsequential shit. he'll be able to see him soon.
he lurches to his feet and shoves ashe again, harder. ]
Why else would I even be here if it wasn't to fuck? Not like your faggot ass is good for anything else. [ too much, possibly. he spits anyway, at ashe's feet, all unbridled theatrics. ] Fucking whore.
[ he could leave it at that, but ashe isn't most people, and delta can't risk that he won't walk away from this. before ashe can recover from the whiplash of delta's words or being shoved, he grabs him by the collar, hauling him close and hooking a closed fist into his jaw. his lip splits over his ringed knuckles, ashe's blood on the back of his hand. it almost feels worse than the cold sweat dripping down his back, or the impending sense of dread that comes with it.
there's no way he's ever going to forgive him. he'll mourn the butchered corpse of this relationship later, after he's macheted it to pieces.
he shoves him a third time, following him forward as he stumbles. ]
Fuck off or I swear to god I will beat your skinny ass within an inch of your life. No one's gonna miss you if I accidentally break your neck.
tw homophobic slurs??? just in case
six explained to him once that the veil is a mirror, walls of pristine glass caging the dead in a cold and empty world. sometimes an angry soul can punch through the glass only to come face-to-face with a reflection of themselves, and then another wall after that, and another, and another, and another. the walls never end because the glass self-repairs, and the dead can't join the living. earth's only law, governed by a force higher than any man, living or decomposed.
there are exceptions to this law.
things darker than the dead, from places other than earth, can slip through the temporary cracks, dragging a wandering soul back with it. or, in delta's case, he not only has the launch codes but he's the atom bomb solution to every unbreakable barrier separating earth from all worlds, and he just kamikazed the fuck out of every wall keeping this dead man's grimy hands from ashe's unsuspecting mortal body.
the veil glimmers like molten flame, still reeling from delta's assault, visible only to his eye. he holds his breath as the man draws closer and the smell gets worse. he doesn't have time for this, not when ashe is still here bitching about inconsequential shit. he'll be able to see him soon.
he lurches to his feet and shoves ashe again, harder. ]
Why else would I even be here if it wasn't to fuck? Not like your faggot ass is good for anything else. [ too much, possibly. he spits anyway, at ashe's feet, all unbridled theatrics. ] Fucking whore.
[ he could leave it at that, but ashe isn't most people, and delta can't risk that he won't walk away from this. before ashe can recover from the whiplash of delta's words or being shoved, he grabs him by the collar, hauling him close and hooking a closed fist into his jaw. his lip splits over his ringed knuckles, ashe's blood on the back of his hand. it almost feels worse than the cold sweat dripping down his back, or the impending sense of dread that comes with it.
there's no way he's ever going to forgive him. he'll mourn the butchered corpse of this relationship later, after he's macheted it to pieces.
he shoves him a third time, following him forward as he stumbles. ]
Fuck off or I swear to god I will beat your skinny ass within an inch of your life. No one's gonna miss you if I accidentally break your neck.