in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"Oho, trouble in paradise?" Danta rumbles, his voice warm and his smile audible as he sidles up next to the butcher, fingertips walking idly along his shoulder before he slouches onto his barstool. "I hope they got what they deserved." He refers, of course, the cloth napkin that Astaroth is using to clean himself up, Danta meanwhile offering a grateful nod and a cheers to the bartender who had poured him a drink.
Having shrugged out of the stranger's coat, the Maverick is once again left shirtless beneath a dark waistcoat and adorned in glitter, but other than the chill against his ears, fingers and the tip of his nose, he's otherwise unharmed by his flight through the snow. And the hot, boozy drink certainly helps matters too. "I trust I didn't miss anything too interesting," he says, idly rubbing at the dried blood on his own knuckles, his tail looping idly around the leg of Asta's barstool.
Having shrugged out of the stranger's coat, the Maverick is once again left shirtless beneath a dark waistcoat and adorned in glitter, but other than the chill against his ears, fingers and the tip of his nose, he's otherwise unharmed by his flight through the snow. And the hot, boozy drink certainly helps matters too. "I trust I didn't miss anything too interesting," he says, idly rubbing at the dried blood on his own knuckles, his tail looping idly around the leg of Asta's barstool.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
