in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"I have no idea what you could possibly mean," Danta says, smiling like a knife as he beholds the much more put together asshole before him. Asta certainly has found his way to a tailor or two since the Maverick oh-so-kindly broke him out of his rocky prison, it appears. Following his fellow Ancient's gaze to the Dusklight's exterior and the decor visible even from here, he can't help but let the smile grow, gesturing for the other man to set foot inside.
"If you like it out here, wait until you get a real taste of it," he purrs, already following to push open the door and hold it open for Asta like a good host. Within, the sound of a soft jazz guitar is already audible, and the heat hits like a wall, accompanied by a bouquet of spices on the air. "What's your poison these days? It would be wrong of me not to offer you a drink at least, poor, homeless waif that you are."
"If you like it out here, wait until you get a real taste of it," he purrs, already following to push open the door and hold it open for Asta like a good host. Within, the sound of a soft jazz guitar is already audible, and the heat hits like a wall, accompanied by a bouquet of spices on the air. "What's your poison these days? It would be wrong of me not to offer you a drink at least, poor, homeless waif that you are."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
