the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
A smirk curls on the edges of Astaroth’s face, nodding his head as the warmth creeps up to his wrists and he finally feels like he might be able to move again. Swallowing down his usual retorts in the face of soon to be comfort, he withdraws reluctantly to slip the gloves back on, roll his sleeves down, nodding to the Maverick.
“I was born ready, darling.” He drawls, offering his elbow for Danta to take should he wish to. The trek itself is short lived, thankfully, and Asta sighs a sigh of relief as the doors to the Dusklight open and he follows behind Danta’s lead toward the bar, cane clicking along with his boots along the floor, carving his path straight for it, ignoring how he towers over everyone.
“I was born ready, darling.” He drawls, offering his elbow for Danta to take should he wish to. The trek itself is short lived, thankfully, and Asta sighs a sigh of relief as the doors to the Dusklight open and he follows behind Danta’s lead toward the bar, cane clicking along with his boots along the floor, carving his path straight for it, ignoring how he towers over everyone.
Astaroth
the hunter and the prey are dancing every day
