(SE) and oh my weary soul

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Still stubbornly not looking at the other Ancient even as he hops off the cart and approaches regardless, Astaroth continues the easy inspection of his hand and fingers. Only when Danta’s voice explains further does he deign to lift his gaze over toward the blonde, unable to keep the snort from trying to bloom from his chest. His hand drops from where he’d held it up to inspect it, dropping it onto his other forearm as he turns toward Danta more fully, leaning into his space and over him.

“I suppose I can handle that.” He drawls in full dramatics, rolling his eyes for added emphasis. “You are the only one I will allow it from.” He clarifies after a moment and raises a brow as if daring Danta to challenge that thought, though why he would is anyone’s guess. Danta still gets what he wants, to lord over the Butcher whenever.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"Aren't you a saint for doing that," Danta purrs up at Asta, and if he's lost anything at all by pandering to the other man's pride (for better or worst, as the butcher is finding), it absolutely doesn't show on his face; indeed, the Maverick seems positively delighted even as he has to lift his chin to meet that honey dark gaze. 

"Alright, since that's sorted - would you like a hand with this cart from here?" He isn't sitting in it any longer meaning it's not as heavy as it once was, but hefting it up into the Burrows is still likely to be no fun task.

Whatever he decides, Danta will reach around either way to give the butcher a good natured smack on the backside before meandering away towards the front of the cart. Either he'll pull while Asta pushes, or he'll help to scout the way ahead. Either one works for him.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Of all things the butcher has been called, a saint is most certainly not one of them. So surprised as he is, he tilts his head toward the Maverick in a hint of confusion and surprise, before he shakes it off and heaves another little exasperated sigh. At least he’s moving now, arms dropping from being held across his chest as he moves to step past the Maverick, only to hear and also feel the smack to his backside. His tail thrashes for a second and he pauses in his surprise. “I would like a hand.” Especially because of that.

Danta would have to work too.

He waits for the blonde to get to the front of the cart, before he begins to push from his side. Without the weight and with the help of the blonde Ancient, it moves easier than it had, and the burrows easily come into view. “There are only a few more things left for the shrine after this.” Astaroth informs him, continuing to push toward the portal.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"Mm, I thought that would be the case," Danta says with a fanged grin directed over the cart at Astaroth, the Maverick settling himself in front to be able to pull the gemstone laden vehicle up the incline while the other man pushes. It's far from easy going, but at the very least they should be able to get to the portal without worrying about one or both of them getting exhausted.

"What's left to do?" he wonders with a curious raise of his brow, glancing over his shoulder at Asta and straightening up as the ground levels out. A few more minutes and the portal comes into view, Danta slowing his steps so they might be able to guide the cart through properly. "I should really go to Dygra to see if there's anything more she might be able to do to help the Grounds," he adds, smiling at the thought.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Of course it would be the case. Why wouldn’t it be?

Either way, the butcher is glad for the help either way as they push the cart up the uneven ground to where it flattens out. Panting, because it certainly is hard work, Astaroth flashes Danta a grin as the ground levels out. “Carving this into the shape of the shrine, sating bloodlust, consecrating, and lastly the full build.” Checking them off in his mind like he’s had each and every portion of it meticulously planned out, Astaroth’s steps slow a little the closer to the portal they get.

“You really should, darling.” He hums through panting breaths, pausing briefly before he starts to push the cart again toward the portal, ready to embrace the flames from the other side. “Did you have anything in mind?” His dark gaze flickers over toward Danta instead of the portal, a dark brow lifted alongside his question.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"Sounds delightful," Danta purrs, rolling the ache from his shoulders now that they no longer have to slog up the incline with the cart. "Do tell me if you need any more help, yes? I would never step on your toes, but it goes without saying that I am invested - like the rest of the Ancients in the Grounds, no doubt."

Guiding the front of the cart as Asta begins to push it again, Danta's fire magic is already wisping around his head and shoulders in preparation to keep it away from the cart and their clothes as they step through. "I absolutely do," he says, grinning over his shoulder to the butcher just as they slip from The Climb and back into the Grounds.

"Charlie has a number of terms and explanations for it, but I've taken to calling it a rage room. A place in the Temple where any number of atrocities can be committed, but where everyone steps back out whole and unharmed when it's all over." He grins, clearly proud of it.

"Although, Kiada did mention a lot of information about the void during our last meeting, and I can't help but feel like I should consider that, as well." Rolling his eyes, he turns to walk backwards to guide the cart out of the bonfire and onto solid road once more. "Deimos got the information from Safrin," he continues, before launching into the explanation.

---

Danta gives Asta the information Kiada relayed to him!

In order to reclaim an infected region, you must complete a number of 'cleansing' tasks related to the size of the region. The number is listed below.

1. Completing a Very Hard level 15 KQ in an infected region counts as 1.
2. Bringing one of Vi's Roses counts as 1.
3. Bringing one of Rae's Lilies counts as 1.
4. Completing an RQ from either Rae/Mort/Vi counts as 1.

Hak Etme / Feverlands / Oerwoud (1)
King's End (2)
Greatwood (2)
Stormbreak (4)
Halo/Climb/Torchline (4)
Hollowed Grounds (4)
Draig Cordilliera (5)

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

“Charlie has been more than willing to plan the bloodlust and the consecration.” Astaroth hums, sure that she’d also be willing to help with the carving, but when it comes to the full build? His grin is shot back toward the Maverick. “The more the merrier, however.” Especially with the bloodlust and any extras. Of course, he’d chat with Charlie about it to figure out the rest of the details surrounding it.

Paired with Danta’s magic, the butcher’s own adds to it to prevent the cart and their clothes from burning into ash, listening diligently to the idea that the Maverick offers. “Oh ho ho, that sounds brilliant,” his dark gaze already seeming a touch far away as he begins to imagine what exactly he might be able to get away with within this ‘rage room’.

Talk of the void immediately sours it, but he absorbs the information with a nod and a nose wrinkle at the mention of heralds in general. “What might we do to protect it further? The Inner Quarter is already safe isn’t it?” He muses thoughtfully.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"I'll let you two plan the details, then, and you know where I am if you need any merriment." Danta winks. He might have added in your bed to reiterate - that is where Asta can find him most days at this point, after all - but is soon distracted by keeping their cart from catching fire as they head through the portal. Luckily between the two of them it takes little effort to come through safely, and he brushes some ash off his clothes before grabbing the cart again.

"I assume you'd like this taken to the Temple?" He smiles, already pulling it to set the wheels in motion. "And it does, doesn't it?" The smile becomes a dark, fanged grin, but Danta does his best to keep himself tempered. There isn't a rage room yet, after all. "And it is, yes, I just wondered whether we should... I don't know, do something about the Greatwood, or whatever. It's right on the borders, after all."

He'd clearly prefer the rage room, though, let's not get it twisted.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

“I very much do know where to find you, darling.” He nearly purrs, a possessive part of him more than pleased to have Danta spend most nights in the butcher’s bed. Infinitely pleased by that answer and the potential of the rage room as they slip through the portal into the cooler temperature of the Grounds, Astaroth nods to the mention of the Temple, already beginning to push the cart toward there.

Head tilting as he pauses in the pushing to readjust his grip on the cart, he glances back up toward Danta with a curious gleam in his dark gaze. “Thankfully, with the portal, perhaps we should try our hand at visiting Frey’s Breath more often?” And for the playfulness of it, he flashes a too sharp grin toward Danta. “How would you feel about taking a dip on occasion?” His dark brow lifts and the grin remains, giving the Maverick little time to respond before he starts to push the cart again.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

Skidding a bit as he's suddenly left pulling the cart with no assistance, it's a good thing they aren't on a downward incline or anything or Asta might have left Danta trundling away with it and out of control. (But of course the butcher would never do such a thing, would he?) Waiting until the other man picks up the slack again and turning the cart towards the Temple as it comes into sight, his agreement is as surprised as it is pleasant, and he gives a slow nod.

"I don't see why not. That way we can have our fun here in the Grounds without bothering Dygra for any more void-related matters, and we can still say we're doing our part to stop the spread. Or something." Scoffing, clearly the playful implications of Asta's words have been deliberately ignored, though that doesn't stop the crooked smile from curling across Danta's lips as they reach the Temple steps.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

He would only do it if Danta deserved it. Which, you know, depends on the day. Today, however, despite the playful spat from earlier, he absolutely wouldn’t. Besides, a pancake version of Danta seems far less fun than any other version of the Maverick. Either way, he adjusts his hands and the hold he has, before making his teasing comments and fully feeling an amount deflated by the time Danta doesn’t pick up on it vocally.

“It appears as though we get the rage room as well as making the attempt to rescue the Greatwood. What is there not to like?” He tuts, clearly accepting the idea of it and looking forward to it. After all, he could get plenty of use out of the room itself. As for them doing their part, maybe they find a lily, maybe they don’t. At least they’ve tried (and selfishly enjoyed themselves in the process.)

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"What, indeed," Danta agrees, turning as they finally rumble to a stop before the Temple steps and he offers the other man a toothy smile. "Do you want to try and haul the cart up a few steps so we can keep rolling it inside?" he asks. "Or is it better to just try and take the obsidian by itself?" He'll be pissed if they've worked this hard to get it to the Grounds only to drop it and let it shatter, of course, but also, effort.

Sighing and glancing around as if to make the decision for them, he luckily spots a couple of planks of wood leftover from someone's stall set up. "Here," he says, jogging to collect them and laying them over the steps at the correct distance between the cart's wheels. "Let it never be said that I can't be clever if it's to be lazy. Let's go."

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Now that they’ve stopped in front of the Temple, Astaroth removes his hands from the cart while Danta speaks so that he might start to stretch out his arms and back a fraction (it was a lot of work moving this cart around, especially with the heavy gemstone within it). “Oh,” he starts to say before shutting his mouth quite abruptly to see Danta spur into action before he even says anything.

Which, truthfully, thank Dygra for it – because he certainly does not want to lug it up the stairs. “How innovative, darling.” He drawls with a chuckle of laughter and appreciation, thankful for the option as the planks are laid out and he returns to his hold on the cart, ensuring its lined up perfectly so it doesn’t lose balance or fall off. Instead, he pushes it up the makeshift ramp until it flattens out before the Temple doors and Astaroth nods for Danta to open the door so they can push it all the way in.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"They don't call me Theocrat for nothing," Danta points out with a crooked smile, heading up to open the Temple doors ready while Asta hefts the cart up this last stretch. He's there to steady it from his side, at least, preventing it from toppling until they can ease it into the building together. And that, as they say, is that. Leaning his forearms against the side of the cart so he can catch his breath, he glances around at the building as if surprised to see it - the portal is still a novelty, evidently.

"Can you manage to get to your shrine space from here?" he asks. "Because I feel like if we try to manage it together, this will be when the cart breaks or the stone slab falls out or something else hilarious and terrible happens." Why? Because chaos and dumb fucking luck, that's why.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //