Okay, I had an hour down at the end of the work day, and decided to try to play with my twist on the comic version of these characters. Takes place after #1, so I'm sure the release of #2 will make it impossible in the timeline, but I'm just playin, so it doesn't really matter. Just wanted to give it a try.

forest High Priestess of the Cult of Todesengel

Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron, Devil's Due has the comic.
Pairing: Sven/Lance
Warnings: Only for general suckiness and foul language, and lots of overlapping dialogue.

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Ante, Raise, Call
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"They call this a castle? Are they -- um, two -- kidding? Prison had"

"Dealer takes one."

"better interior decoration than this place.  Five. That lion was cool as shit though. Can you"

"See your five, raise you five more."

"believe all that Voltron stuff Hawkins fed us was actually true? See that, and raise you eight. I thought he was just making that shit up to get us out here for some suicide mission kinda thing. Man, I can't"

"Your eight and four more."

"wait to -- call -- take one of those babies up. Weirdest"

"Jacks and fives."

"Ha! Three sevens! Yeah -- weirdest-lookin' ship I've ever seen, but you can just tell that mother hauls ass. What. Oh don't give me that look Holgersson. Don't think I can't tell how much you're looking forward to seeing the look on some Blue's face when you blow his ass out his eyeballs."

"It's your deal."

"Speaking of deals, what's yours? I mean, other than the fact that you apparently cut your own hair with a butcher knife."

Lance forced his grin to the more familiar smirk at Holgersson's scowl. Damn but this guy was fun. Arrogant and prickly, coolly threatening, and so easily irritated. The best part, though, was that he probably really was as dangerous as he pretended to be, and Lance could tell how much he hated it when Lance managed to goad him into losing his cool. Yeah, when Holgersson really snapped, it was going to be spectacular. Lance just had to make sure to be out of the blast range, as long as he still got to see the explosion.

Funny thing was, he had a sneaking suspicion Holgersson just might know what he was up to, and that worried him. It was something about the man's expression and in his voice when he'd told the Commander -- not in so many words -- that they were thoroughly fucked, and in the buzzing energy around him after the big guy -- whosit…Garrett? Hunk -- had saved their asses from a very bumpy landing, not to mention horrible flaming death. It was familiar. Holgersson had gotten his rocks off on that just as much as Lance had. And that was damned intriguing. As usual, Lance's thoughts did very little to interrupt his stream of words as he deliberately shuffled the deck. "Mine's easy -- I was doing time. As for that big dude, I can't imagine anyone actually wanting to work with him -- not that he wasn't pretty good in a jam and all, but still. Kinda feel sorry for the kid, but it's obvious he's a complete freak. So what's yours? What makes you" and he relished drawing the word out, "ex-pend-a-ble? Guy with your skills and charming personality? What'd you do to make it so's nobody'd miss you if you didn't come back? Or did I just answer my own question?"

"I killed a man when he wouldn't shut up and deal. the. fucking. cards." Holgersson growled.

Lance raised his hands slightly in mock surrender and started dealing, but there had been something flashing in those chilly blue eyes when Holgersson said he'd killed a man that had gone straight to his cock. Yeah, he was a sick bastard, but he'd come to terms with that a long time ago.

"Okay, okay, jeez, ask a few questions around this place… So what do you think of the Commander? Why'd he get sent out here to the ass end of nowhere? I mean, the guy's wound pretty tight, that's for sure, but there seems to be a lot of that going around. Man, it just"

"I'll take two."

"What? Oh, right. Um, me too. Like I was sayin', it just doesn't seem right playing cards without beer. Think they've got any booze stashed anywhere around here? I haven't had a drink since before I got locked up. I suppose not. I mean, hell, they seem short on furniture, and I --"

Lance broke off abruptly as strong fingers wrapped around his arm and jerked him forward, and suddenly Sven was kissing him, hard and aggressively. For a moment he kissed back, with just as much aggression, then he jerked back and stared as Sven calmly settled back and examined his cards.

"Three."

The chips clinked against their antes. It could've been some bizarre hallucination except his mouth was still wet and tingling, and his arm hurt a little.

"What the FUCK!? What the hell was that? You just kissed me! Shit, is that what it is? You got sent out here because you're a -- you're gay? And…what the fuck? You don't even *like* me, in case you've forgotten. You're a fucking psycho, you know that? What were you"

"I was kind of hoping it would shut you up. Didn't work. Your bid."

Lance glanced at his hand. Jack high. "See your three and raise you eight. You surprised me. It might work next time."

"They say the definition of insanity is repeating the same actions, expecting different results." He absently fingered the edge of his cards and leaned in uncomfortably close. "Of course, I have never been accused of an abundance of sanity."

Oh yes. This was getting interesting.

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