sins you never said to yourself

// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //

Staying close to the bonfire was key when it came to hunting during Deepfrost. Enough that with the news that he’s got to share, he’s sent a letter to Thalassa with the intention to meet her there before they delve into the outskirts for a deer or a wolf that might be daring to stay close to their usual food sources.

He waits, dressed up in the burgundy jacket Deimos had made, hair swept back and looking otherwise not that different apart from the brand new scar to his cheek that’s cut into his beard, preventing any hair to continue to grow there. The scar is of plush lips, like a kiss pressed there, a brand which was rare for an Ancient to harbor these days – but he supposes the only person capable of doing such a thing was the one that had left it in the first place.

His tail flicks in easy back and forth motions, lazy and content as he rests against the edge of a building from one of the alleyways, eyes vibrant and watchful of the bonfire and the cobblestones while it starts to snow, seeing with quiet delight that the weather can’t grab a foothold with the heat of the bonfire blooming through it.

Astaroth

// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //

Thalassa

I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.

Having spent much of the season so far in the heat of the Climb or Hak Etme and without a magical cloak to shield her, Thal is not liking the weather. She's had to don her thickest cloak in addition to multiple long layers beneath just to block out the cold while she made her way to the Inner Quarter. And even then, it makes her movements stiff and cumbersome, automatically making her more irritable than usual. 

Still, she brightens when she spots Asta, her grin forming around the white billowing cloud of her breath that dissipates when she's embraced by the warmth of the bonfire. Her shoulders fall from where they've taken residence by her ears, the shift from cold to hot deepening the red flush of her cheeks. 

Greetings feel like unnecessary formalities between friends, and when he's close enough to see the playful glint in her eyes, Thal teases, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been hiding from me recently." She tilts her head as she comes to a stop in front of him, raising a joking eyebrow. "Don't tell me you secretly eloped." As much as the idea of a wedding doesn't appeal to her, she had rather hoped to enjoy the afterparty - and maybe support her friends and all that jazz.

But nothing lasts. I know the deal.

// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //

They have become far past the general greetings and formalities that often came with acquaintances, such that as he sees Thalassa slip in through an alley of her own, dressed to the nines in jackets and layers to keep the heat in, he offers a sharpened grin to greet her playful glint in her gaze. “Oh, not in the slightest, darling.” Asta hums, pushing off the wall to step up alongside her, his elbow brushing her side as he laughs warmly.

“No, no. No secret eloping. It is better than that, in fact.” Giving her just enough information to keep her curious and wanting more, Asta starts to guide them away from the bonfire toward the alley he’d been lingering by, the most direct path to the woods from here. And while they walk, he’s happy to fill her in. “Dygra has asked me to become her demigod.” He gives the information willingly, barely able to contain his excitement and it’s evident in the stretch of his lips in the smile and the way he glances down toward her to see her reaction. “I obviously said yes.” He tacks on, letting that information settle and awaits for more questions.

Perhaps it would answer the newest addition of a scar on his face.

Astaroth

// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //

Thalassa

I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.

Bumping Asta back, he immediately has her hooked with the promise of something better than eloping. Considering what she knows of her friend, she can't think of anything he'd want more, and when she fails to come up with something on her own, she raises a question brow his way. The sarcastic look in her eyes practically begs him not to keep her waiting.

'Dygra has asked me to become her demigod.'

Thal blanks for a moment, her steps slowing as she processes his words, wondering if she misheard or if he's making some kind of joke; but the joy on his face is infectious, his unnecessary confirmation that he'd said 'yes' only making the words a reality that bursts forth with equal fervor.

Stopping in the middle of the alley, she grabs at his arm, needing the contact to stay grounded in the world-altering news. Her eyes are wide, bright with an excitement she can't explain. "No shit! Are you serious?!" She doesn't wait for him to confirm it again, a light bit of disbelieving laughter flowing from the smile splitting her face. "That's awesome! How do you feel? Powerful? Important? Taller?" She has a million other questions, but she inspects him a little closer, wondering if she might have been able to spot the change before he said anything. And yet, she only notices one difference, grinning as she asks, "Is that a new scar?"

But nothing lasts. I know the deal.

// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //

It’s precisely the show he hopes it would be, as Thalassa’s steps slow and she processes the very thing that’s dropped from his lips. The way she scans him to see if it’s true or he’s just fucking with her. Amusement is clear, as is the joy that radiates from him, and when she stops in the middle of the alley with the snow continuing to fall in lazy little drifts, pooling in the cooler corners where the cobblestones meet the buildings.

She grabs his arm and he gladly lets her, his grin somehow even brighter. “Incredibly serious, yes.” Shrugging breezily, the Butcher lets his own laugh slip from his throat, raising his brow toward her as she asks a bajillion questions he can’t quite answer just yet. But as she starts to settle with the squint toward the scar on his cheek, Asta nods his head and leans down a little toward her to let her inspect him more. “It is a new scar, yes. From Dygra herself.” Given how hard it was for Ancients to burn, let alone have something hot enough to brand a design. “To be honest? I feel weaker, but things are different and I will adapt and grow just as I had when Danta woke me.” As if for emphasis of how things have changed, he pulls his free hand in front of him toward her and lets the new wild fire magic spark to life between his fingers. Rather than the traditional hue of red and oranges, the fire that slips from his fingers is a ghoulish green, bright and intense. “I do feel quite a bit more important, however.” He bounces a brow toward her with another laugh, because obviously it was an incredible flex to his ego.

Then, as if to not be left out, there’s the skittering sound of a creature along the rooftop of the building they’re closest to, and if Thalassa looks up she’ll come face to face with a dragon made completely out of bones – the skeleton with pitless black eyes and black smoke leaking from the holes between her too sharp teeth, peering down curiously.

Astaroth

// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //

Thalassa

I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.

She releases his arm to smack it at the joke, laughing again as her head shakes with unfiltered wonder that only increases when she sees the new scar seared into his cheek. Her grin widens, the word genuine and fiercely supportive when she says, "Congratulations." It feels like the right thing to say, a milestone to celebrate even if she's slightly jealous. Just like with his love for Danta, she won't let her own emotions ruin this form him, so she continues to share in his joy, listening with rapt attention as he speaks. 

The cold has already been forgotten with his news, but she's grateful when his fire appears - his green fire. Letting out a whistle that pierces through the alleyway, Thal flicks her gaze between the blaze and Asta, obviously impressed and wickedly delighted from the sharp edges of her smile. "Damn, that's pretty cool. Any other fun perks? What about your other magics?" In other words: how much chaos can they wreak now? Because this feels like an all-inclusive free pass to let loose on the world. He is Dygra's demi after all. 

Rolling her eyes playfully at his increased ego, she spots movement atop the roofs. Thal squints her eyes, freezing in place as two black pits stare back. Immediately on alert, her hand reaches for a dagger, refusing to look away from the strange protrusions of bones the likes of which she's never seen. "The hell is that?" She really hopes she's not going crazy, and that the Butcher will see exactly what she is.

But nothing lasts. I know the deal.

// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //

“Thank you, darling.” Asta says with a warm laugh, tail flicking behind him as he feels the smack to his arm that Thalassa leaves behind, his grin vibrant and radiating the joy into her, evident by the way it’s reflecting back at him. Arrogance is a coat the Butcher wears well, and without a sign of it stopping he starts to show off the gifts he’s been granted – starting with the green fire. It flares brighter before he extinguishes it, his dark gaze finding her face again. “So far, everything else is gone aside from a new version of Bloodbane, the fire, and my deer shift.” Which has been an adjustment to say the least, and given that Thalassa is his friend, the smile he shoots her way is a touch conspiratorial where he lets his voice drop low. “Far weaker, as I said. But I shall get better.”

It’s a vow for himself as much as it is those around him, felt as though he’s suddenly put on a pedestal that he must excel with. And luckily for him, he spies the way her attention shoots up and that little mental connection clicks for the Butcher, straightening up to grin at the bone dragon. “That is Sicarius.” Asta hums, reaching up to snag the bone dragon from where she creeps halfway down the rooftop toward them.

She drops suddenly, caught easily within the butcher’s hand. “She is young, but Dygra has blessed me with her as well.” The bone dragon wiggles a little, more like a noodle made of bones than anything substantial, and it’s truly a wonder how she even moves as fluidly as she does. But eventually she settles with her pitless eyes on Thalassa, leaning forward to inspect her with a black puff of smoke.

Astaroth

// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //

Thalassa

I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.

As awesome as it sounds to suddenly be linked to Dygra with unlimited potential, Thal scrunches her nose at the news of his lost magics and shifts. "That sucks," she gripes, personally hating the idea of being weak, even if it's only for a day. Still, she smiles at his comment, certain that it won't last long, but wanting to capitalize on it while she can. "Oh, we should definitely spar before then." Her blue eyes swirl with mischief, fangs on full display as she pictures the bit of fun she'll be able to have before he's wiping the floor with her again. 

But then Thal is on full alert, prepared to slide her dagger between the ribs of some bone creature. Her muscles tense, ready to jump into action until Asta is looking less that surprised by the appearance of the creature. He even calls it by name, reaching an arm out for the dragon(?) to hop into his palm. It's hard to convince herself that there's no threat, but he seems so comfortable and, in the light, the companion looks almost... cute. 

Forcing her limbs to relax, Thal narrows her eyes, releasing the hold on her dagger as she reaches out a tentative hand for the dragon to sniff. Her gaze flicks to Asta with playful suspicion. "Any other fun surprises? Did she give you a kid too?" She can't really picture Asta as a dad, but after what supposedly happened to Charlie and all the other things he's revealed, she can't exclude the possibility.

But nothing lasts. I know the deal.

// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //

“I am inclined to believe the payoff is better than the temporary hiccup.” The Butcher admits with a playful waggle of his brow, his grin stretching brighter. It remains just as bright when Thalassa mentions sparring before then, managing a bark of a laugh. “Ah yes, so you can take advantage of a weak old man?” The tease is blatantly there, because he’s obviously willing to test his abilities even if Thalassa kicked his ass, knowing full well he’ll manage to regain his strength and get the upper hand once again.

Ah, but then Sicarius is settling into his hands to inspect Thalassa in all her macabre glory, and once the other ancient reaches up to let her get a sniff, the dragonling leans forward to smell her hand, puffing a little cloud of smoke that dances around her fingers before she withdraws with content and clamors up Astaroth’s arm and shoulder to curl around his neck as he watches her put her dagger away.

“Oh gods no.” He laughs, shaking his head, disrupting Sicarius enough that a little flicker of black flame sparks past her lips in her grumpiness at being jostled. “I think She knows I am a better mentor than I am a father.” The idea of having a kid has him cringing a touch internally, but the grin he shoots her way is vibrant in spite of it. “Anyway, enough about me, though we both know I could talk about it all day. What have you been up to?” He asks, offering out his arm for her to take should she wish to so they can get into the wilderness to hunt.

Astaroth

// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //

Thalassa

I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.

Chuckling at his wiggling eyebrows, Thal shrugs her shoulders of the very temporary stats of his strength. "Oh, no doubt. This is Dygra we're talking about." And she is nothing if not generous with her magics. Thal can only imagine it will be tenfold as her demi, and there's another ounce of wicked excitement to see what comes from his new status. 

Wiping her features clean of any blame, she blinks up at him with mock innocence. "I would never refer to you as such." But the shit-eating grin that follows tacks on the unnecessary 'out loud.'

The dragon gives a huffing sniff that sends black smoke drifting around her fingers before darting up Asta's arm and out of her reach. Taking it as approval rather than rejection, Thal lowers her arm, placing her hands in her pockets to warm them back up as she turns towards their path once more. She gives the Butcher a teasing smile at his vehement denial, recalling him telling her something along the lines of 'never say never.' Just because they can't see him as a father doesn't mean it'll never happen. 

When he directs the conversation towards her, Thal sighs dramatically. "Nothing quite as interesting as you." Her head tilts, igneous horns catching the low light through her dark hair. "But I have a new quest from Dygra, and I was in charge of building a port in Hak Etme. My friend's set on conquering the desert out there - not that I can understand why."

But nothing lasts. I know the deal.

// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //

“Precisely, darling.” Content that his friend gets it, the grin he shoots her way is playful and vibrant even if he can see through her bullshit, and only when she flashes her mock innocence at him despite the shit eating grin that follows after has Asta laughing warmly in amusement. “Mhm, of course not.” He practically trills, pretending to take her at her word. He’d still do it, though, if only because he’s sure he could use the practice and if there was one person he knows wouldn’t be too judgmental about his abilities aside from Danta and Flora, it would be her.

As Sicarius settles around his shoulders now, the Butcher sees the way his denial doesn’t land the way he wants it to, and he can’t help the way he rolls his eyes playfully. He doesn’t comment on it, not as they turn to walk toward the woods, and all the while his ear is leaning toward her in order to aptly listen and pay attention to the news she has to share.

Not quite as interesting doesn’t mean not interesting, and he listens with rapt attention. “Oh? Is that so?” He asks, raising a brow down at her, smirking. “A strange idea, but admirable I suppose.” It couldn’t be him starting a new region, too interested in his creature comforts these days to try and stake out a new life. Besides, with Danta ruling the Grounds, why would he want to be anywhere else? “What is the quest for?” He asks, wondering if he could help in any way.

Astaroth

// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //

Thalassa

I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.

Having obviously - and intentionally - not disguised her thoughts on Asta's possibility of being a father one day, she's rewarded with a dramatic eye roll that earns him a dark chuckle of delight. She sincerely hopes that she gets to see him proven wrong one day just to see the look on his face. 

Then it's her turn to roll her eyes, although it's barely a flash of blue before she's grinning. "Sure. Admirably delusional." It's probably one of the reasons they're friends. Anyone with any good sense would have left her long ago, but Colt's bull-headed enough to give her a run for her money, and Thal respects that more than any ambition. 

When Asta asks after the quest, her tail flicks behind her, shoulders shrugging as she playfully admits, "Life's felt a little boring recently, so I asked Dygra to help spice it up with some new magic." Fangs flash in a sharp grin, pretending there's not some deeper meaning there other than her usual desire for chaos and power. "She's given me a quest for Ignus Pulse."

But nothing lasts. I know the deal.

// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //

Snorting at the mention of Colt being admirably delusional, it’s only as he puts the pieces together to recall who the face of this unnamed friend was when it came to the desert – paired with Flora’s birthday party and the person he’d had to act as a bouncer to. And based off the social norms of friendship, he’s supposed to despise Colt until Flora says otherwise, but it doesn’t stop him from glancing sidelong at his friend to shoot her a sheepish smirk. “Do let me know if she has any intention of getting rid of the bones in the Boneyard. I would be quite glad to take some off her hands.” He might anyway before she realizes it, but that’s neither here nor there.

As they walk and he turns his attention back to her and the quest, Asta’s tail flicks behind him in time with Thalassa’s own. “Ooh.” He hums, dramatically captivated as his smirk blooms brighter, shifting toward a grin before he’s nudging her with his elbow. “Lightning, yes? Well, what tasks must you complete?” He asks, raising a brow. He has his own set of tasks from Dygra herself for upgrading his cane, so he's curious to see how they line up.

Astaroth

// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //

Thalassa

I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.

Of course Asta's interested in the bones. The Boneyard must be like a candy store for him, the sweetness so enticing that she's surprised he hasn't cleared out the place yet. Thal laughs, shaking her head to dismiss any concerns he might have of losing the source. "I doubt she'd notice or care if you took any, but I'll be sure to let her know." 

His piqued interest only affirms her decision to pursue the magic, her laughter echoing in the alleyway as he nudges her shoulder. She grins up at him to offer a hum of confirmation. "Mhm. I have to observe volcanic lightning in the Climb, stay a night in a lightning storm, and give someone a static shock. Simple enough stuff." She shrugs. Nothing too strenuous or taxing, although she assumes it will still take her some time.

But nothing lasts. I know the deal.