a romantic, candelit dinner would be incomplete
Danta’s teasing is met with the deflating of some of Asta’s sails, huffing a little sigh. “Mm.” It’s noncommittal, as if he’s heard it and let it slip out from the other side of his mind. He’s too focused anyway. He watches the group start to grow even rowdier and as he starts to move and hears Danta’s gentle chiding, his shadow casts over the blonde again.
“Cane first. We’ll see where it goes.” He murmurs, tail brushing against Danta’s back as he slinks away, cane clicking against the floor as he goes to be quite a terrible menace to those disrupting the inner dealings of the Dusklight. He gets the waitress to step away, gentle and tenderly as he’s certainly capable of, and when one of the patrons starts to reach for her again, he’s met with the hard smack of the cane against the table. “If you cannot behave, then you need to leave.”
Which, of course, starts its own breed of drama as the rest of them stand as if they were capable of doing anything else.
He’s well versed in utilizing the cane to his advantage, enough so that all three of their arms are red and the scuffle starts, Asta using his height to his advantage to help him corral the troublemakers toward the door.
And the promise breaks shortly after one of them grabs onto his coat, utilizing their magic to scorch a mark in, aiming to set it on fire. It’s almost cute, if Asta wasn’t immediately miffed about his suit being ruined. So he shifts, turning into the fyrhund, snapping and snarling and puffing smoke at the three that keep getting herded toward the door.
“Cane first. We’ll see where it goes.” He murmurs, tail brushing against Danta’s back as he slinks away, cane clicking against the floor as he goes to be quite a terrible menace to those disrupting the inner dealings of the Dusklight. He gets the waitress to step away, gentle and tenderly as he’s certainly capable of, and when one of the patrons starts to reach for her again, he’s met with the hard smack of the cane against the table. “If you cannot behave, then you need to leave.”
Which, of course, starts its own breed of drama as the rest of them stand as if they were capable of doing anything else.
He’s well versed in utilizing the cane to his advantage, enough so that all three of their arms are red and the scuffle starts, Asta using his height to his advantage to help him corral the troublemakers toward the door.
And the promise breaks shortly after one of them grabs onto his coat, utilizing their magic to scorch a mark in, aiming to set it on fire. It’s almost cute, if Asta wasn’t immediately miffed about his suit being ruined. So he shifts, turning into the fyrhund, snapping and snarling and puffing smoke at the three that keep getting herded toward the door.
Astaroth
without all this blood /////
