// up above so, up above so quiet //
Danta’s voice announces his presence briefly before the tip tapping of his fingers move along his shoulder before he joins him officially and Astaroth glances over with a small huff of a laugh and a shake of his head, lowering the cloth in a flare of dramatics. “He deserved more. He spit on me.” The butcher drawls like it’s the worst thing that has ever occurred to him, before he shakes out of it with a sigh. “But he was aware of when to pick a fight and decided leaving would be a better choice.” Nodding to the bartender to make him one of his own, Astaroth turns a bit toward Danta, letting his dark gaze focus on the dried blood and otherwise unharmed form of the Maverick.
Satisfied enough, his tail stills its waving to loop around Danta’s barstool in turn, lips quirking into that typical charming smile as he usually harbored. “Nothing aside from that. He wanted to fight, but he was too inebriated to get his hands to form actual fists.” Which is why he got spit on, because obviously it was Astaroth’s fault. “How was your hunt?” He hums, collecting his glass when the bartender drops it off with a grateful nod, before his attention returns back to the blonde.
Satisfied enough, his tail stills its waving to loop around Danta’s barstool in turn, lips quirking into that typical charming smile as he usually harbored. “Nothing aside from that. He wanted to fight, but he was too inebriated to get his hands to form actual fists.” Which is why he got spit on, because obviously it was Astaroth’s fault. “How was your hunt?” He hums, collecting his glass when the bartender drops it off with a grateful nod, before his attention returns back to the blonde.
Astaroth
// down below so, down below so violent //
