Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
The fruit plate is offered and Asta eyes it for a few moments as he listens, before he reaches out to pluck an apple slice from the plate, lifting it to his lips and snapping the slice in two between the sharp edges of his front teeth. “Don’t let Danta hear you say that.” He teases with an amusing smile once he’s swallowed down the first bite, the other following suit as he nods to her agreement to help.
Now he just needs to figure out what all he needs. But that’s a thought for later, because she’s trying to convince him to have more of a role, one that he inherently knows is quite possibly an awful position to be in for himself.
Her acceptance of his monster status, though, earns her a too sharp grin and an incline of his head, accepting the compliment for what it was, before the butcher snorts and picks up another apple slice. “My profession, officially, is Dusklight Security. However, it already extends into being Danta’s attack dog for whatever needs being done.” If the Maverick said ‘attack’, you can bet Asta’s dropping everything to do it. “I do not need or want anything more official than that.” But perhaps it would alleviate her worries to know that he already has protected the Inner Quarter from dangers and threats, even if it wasn’t entirely focused on the Dusklight.
A memory of the finger he’d stolen to devour from such an adventure crosses his mind with the same kind of snap the apple slice provides between sharpened teeth.
Now he just needs to figure out what all he needs. But that’s a thought for later, because she’s trying to convince him to have more of a role, one that he inherently knows is quite possibly an awful position to be in for himself.
Her acceptance of his monster status, though, earns her a too sharp grin and an incline of his head, accepting the compliment for what it was, before the butcher snorts and picks up another apple slice. “My profession, officially, is Dusklight Security. However, it already extends into being Danta’s attack dog for whatever needs being done.” If the Maverick said ‘attack’, you can bet Asta’s dropping everything to do it. “I do not need or want anything more official than that.” But perhaps it would alleviate her worries to know that he already has protected the Inner Quarter from dangers and threats, even if it wasn’t entirely focused on the Dusklight.
A memory of the finger he’d stolen to devour from such an adventure crosses his mind with the same kind of snap the apple slice provides between sharpened teeth.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
