(SE) straight up to the sun

// with our one foot in the grave //

The impressed tone that suddenly leaves Danta sparks a purred and breathy chuckle from him, nestling in again as his nose butts up against the edge of Danta’s neck, humming a little sound that’s far too nonchalant for the fact that he was also surprised. It was partially the fact that his hand had already hardened, but the fact is that he did know where to hit to do the most damage. And that’s a smile that curves against the Maverick’s skin when he offers a little purred reply. “It’s easy when you know where to hit, darling.” All of his confidence and haughtiness back in his tone, even if he’s more akin to a pleased cat than anything else.

As for bone statement pieces, he shifts his head a little to see where Danta’s gesturing, any multitude of shelves that are empty he’s sure he could craft something to go into those spaces. “Mm, I am certain I could manage that.” And already the ideas spring to life in his head of not just one jewelry stand for the blonde, but two. One along the same vein as Danta’s internal thoughts of a skeletal hand, while the other, a small beast’s ribcage with more than enough tines to place anything the Maverick wished. “Promise me that you won't let Maea find out they're real.” He adds, conspiratorially, ironically wishing to keep the friendship alive without issues.

Astaroth

// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //