Blackfeather Woods viva la vida

And there it was again. The panic rising, flooding him up to his throat and paralyzing him completely. Cicero had a knack for this, for manipulating him, for pulling his strings on Damien and simply getting what he wanted. He was truly a spider, a snake, perhaps the only one capable to live up to Mephala's standards...

This was, unfortunately for the Dark Master, not a game of physical strength. Cicero was smart enough to shield himself from anything that Damien could do to hurt his body, not to mention that there existed reasons to believe that his snake of his brother actually enjoyed physical pain. No, Damien couldn't win this game by force no matter how bad he wanted to pin him to the ground and make tell him to fuck off. This was a game of wit, of strategy, and although it wasn't his desire to play along Damien would never shy away from such.

He let out a drawn out snarl as Cicero suggested spilling the beans on Potema. It wasn't that Damien felt vulnerable (he did, though) but he would rather keep things under the rug, where they belonged, where they wouldn't hurt anyone's reputation or credibility. Don't you dare, he warned, feeling the heat rising, boiling his blood. He wouldn't admit his guilt, his shame, the angst, fear, insecurity... He wouldn't let it spill, yet he didn't know what he was doing.

The last thing I need is for you to betray me, and I bet you'd rather keep your head in place... he spoke before realizing he was saying it... To his own brother, to his only brother, and his eyes betrayed the shot of rush that ran down his body. It was done, it was said, and there were no signs of stopping. Would he do it? Would he really dispose of his brother in order to keep things secret?