hold you to the light, let you shine

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

It might only be an hour of time, but it feels like eternity, and Astaroth finds that watching Danta have others swanning about him and paying attention to him in all the ways Astaroth wants nothing more to do, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Or, perhaps that’s just the iron from how hard he’d grit his teeth and nicked the scar tissue on his cheek from times like this again and again. His tail continues to lash but starts to soothe the second that Danta’s extracted himself, and he pretends to look elsewhere until he catches the Maverick’s gaze and raised brow.

It's a short, curt nod, that has a piece of his hair falling from where he typically kept it behind his horn, nose wrinkling as he reaches up to push it back and take a deep breath before pushing off the wall, stopping by a table on the way toward Danta to offer a low and quiet warning to a particular man that seems like he might be contemplating starting a barfight in the middle of their nice little party.

It deflates the man, at least, the intimidation working well – and with that done he looks back toward Danta as if to silently say has it been an hour yet? in lieu of i dont want to share you with anyone tonight.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue

With their drunk friend successfully entertained and the man well warned off his violent thoughts, the Dusklight seems to be operating like a well-oiled machine again, such that as Asta brushes by him Danta is even able to pause for a little friendly conversation - it appears that way, anyway. "It's barely been thirty minutes," he tells him with a breathy laugh. "Go play doorman and cool off. I'll just be a bit longer."

Because he does still have to finish his work with his barman, but hopefully it shouldn't take too long from here. So saying, with a fiendish wink to the butcher Danta departs once more to sidle around the bar and cook the books and figure out menus and other salacious offerings they might be able to doll out to their very well-paying customers.

He truthful, at least, in that it only takes a little longer to complete the work, and with a final clap to the barman's shoulder, the Maverick departs for one of the familiar corridors leading up to his room. He doesn't know when Asta might decide to join him, but rest assured the door will be unlocked when he does.

Dantalion

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Pausing as he brushes by Danta for the friendly conversation, his dark gaze drifts down along the planes of Danta’s face before lifting back to his eyes (as if taking a silent assessment that all was right). Yet, as the answer of it only being thirty minutes, the butcher’s incapable of not rolling his eyes with a muffled scoff before conceding and nodding his head. “Alright.”

And he does just that, drifting toward the entrance and letting the cool air rest against his exposed skin, his back a warning sign for those still within the Dusklight, it’s with a painstaking amount of time spent counting the minutes until he thinks it’s been enough time. Looking back toward the bar, without any other trouble this entire time, and finds that the Maverick has essentially vanished from the bar.

He waits a few more minutes just to sell the point before handing it off to one of the other workers to manage, drifting through the Dusklight like a nightmarish shadow as he follows the familiar corridors toward Danta’s room – slipping inside once testing the door, and immediately (and a touch grumpily), drifting in to complain all about the brazenly drunk woman who had been the only bold one out of their patrons that night.

At the very least, Danta would soothe his worries, he’s sure.

- FIN

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //