11-05-2014, 04:50 PM
He was made to wait, which was acceptable. Dane understood the logistics it would take for a man to descend from his lofty palace in order to meet with the mortals.
Dane passed the time by watching the guards. He'd gone to stand alongside the guardhouse so to lean casually against the wall. He'd placed his hands in his pockets and crossed his legs at the ankle. His relaxed-seeming posture unnerved those around him. Particularly when Dane's focus lingered long enough to make seasoned soldiers shift in their shoes.
Commotion caused his neck to slowly swivel to one side. His first sight of Damien Oakland was lackluster. Dane saw a coward with tangled hair and gaudy clothes.
Dane pushed off the wall, waiting like a sentinel when the gates opened before him. The two met one anothers' gazes. Damien's smile was pleasant. Dane's was feral. While Damien's gaze was lit with intensity, Dane's was hollowed by the emptiness of his own soul.
He did not offer one of his slender, musical hands to shake. Dane kept his personal space, but the whisper of his voice was one of discord. Of threat.
"You are unworthy to speak such a name."
Dane's eyes cast low glances to his left and right. Damien's entourage was a greater presence than Dane preferred to deal, but his hatred for the liar overcame his fear, something he hated even more than Damien.
"Will you be inviting me in?"
Dane's accent was gentlemanly, like a lord of the former century. All the more surprising to hear utter a threat. "I'd like to have some tea before I make you beg for mercy."
He slipped both hands into his pockets, pleased by the shifts and swallows of those around him.
Dane passed the time by watching the guards. He'd gone to stand alongside the guardhouse so to lean casually against the wall. He'd placed his hands in his pockets and crossed his legs at the ankle. His relaxed-seeming posture unnerved those around him. Particularly when Dane's focus lingered long enough to make seasoned soldiers shift in their shoes.
Commotion caused his neck to slowly swivel to one side. His first sight of Damien Oakland was lackluster. Dane saw a coward with tangled hair and gaudy clothes.
Dane pushed off the wall, waiting like a sentinel when the gates opened before him. The two met one anothers' gazes. Damien's smile was pleasant. Dane's was feral. While Damien's gaze was lit with intensity, Dane's was hollowed by the emptiness of his own soul.
He did not offer one of his slender, musical hands to shake. Dane kept his personal space, but the whisper of his voice was one of discord. Of threat.
"You are unworthy to speak such a name."
Dane's eyes cast low glances to his left and right. Damien's entourage was a greater presence than Dane preferred to deal, but his hatred for the liar overcame his fear, something he hated even more than Damien.
"Will you be inviting me in?"
Dane's accent was gentlemanly, like a lord of the former century. All the more surprising to hear utter a threat. "I'd like to have some tea before I make you beg for mercy."
He slipped both hands into his pockets, pleased by the shifts and swallows of those around him.