Into Smoke

Danny's head snapped back against the wall, stars bursting behind his eyes. For a moment, the world tilted, and then—oh. Oh, that was good. That was *real* good. His tongue flicked out, tasting copper, and he let out a short, wheezing laugh.

Alright, mate, he muttered, rolling his jaw as he grinned through bloodied teeth. Now we’re bloody talkin’.

He didn't need to see the other bastard’s expression to *feel* the shift—Ashaad thought he had control now. That was the best part. Danny *liked* when people thought that.

Without warning, he twisted, shifting his weight like he’d practiced a hundred times before. He let Ashaad have the moment, let him feel solid, victorious, until Danny buckled his knees and *dropped*. Ashaad lurched forward from the sudden lack of resistance, just enough for Danny to slam the heel of his boot into the bastard’s shin and twist out from under his grip.

See, that’s the thing, mate, Danny rasped, backpedaling smoothly, daggers still dancing in his hands. He wiped a thumb across his split lip, smearing the blood absently. You lot always think silence makes you the bigger threat. But me? I like a bit of conversation. Keeps things...*civilized*.

He took a half-step forward, shoulders loose, grinning like a wolf that just found an injured deer.

’Course, if you *really* want, we can skip the chit-chat and go straight to me breakin’ every bone in your miserable sodden body. I ain't fussed either way.

@Nairn Neirdre
@Ashaad