the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
Fingertips curl into a fist hidden by the bright flames that lick at his skin when that voice crosses along his shoulders. He otherwise looks flippant, unaffected as Dantalion steps up beside him, his dark gaze sliding from the flames toward the Maverick, a dark brow rising as a smile curls across his lips. “Concerned with my contentedness, hm?” He drawls, withdrawing his hand to watch the brief bit of smoke curl away from where a fuzz from his shirt had drifted onto his skin in the flame.
He turns more fully toward the bonfire, adjusting his suit a little as the cane taps against the ground. “Admittedly a good choice.” He confirms, even if it’s through slightly grit teeth. Teeth that are still formed in a smile. “Looks better out here than in there. At least you can enjoy the stained glass effect.” He shrugs a shoulder and turns to face the other Ancient more fully, as if expecting him to say what brought him over. Surely it wasn’t his choice.
Either way, Astaroth does let his gaze drift up and down the Maverick.
He turns more fully toward the bonfire, adjusting his suit a little as the cane taps against the ground. “Admittedly a good choice.” He confirms, even if it’s through slightly grit teeth. Teeth that are still formed in a smile. “Looks better out here than in there. At least you can enjoy the stained glass effect.” He shrugs a shoulder and turns to face the other Ancient more fully, as if expecting him to say what brought him over. Surely it wasn’t his choice.
Either way, Astaroth does let his gaze drift up and down the Maverick.
Astaroth
the hunter and the prey are dancing every day
