// with our one foot in the grave //
“I am intimately aware, darling.” Asta hums with an amused lilt to the smile on his lips, drifting in further once the boxes are handed off, rolling his sleeves up and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. “But it truly wouldn’t be from me if they weren’t finely decorated, would they?” He muses, already spotting the bottle of wine and the glass. With a flick of his tail and zero thoughts on it, he snags the stem of the glass to lift the white wine to his lips, taking a long sip.
The first box, smaller than the other is opened to reveal a covering of white lace. Removing it reveals what looks like a tiny corset, adorned with black and orange hues, sparks and pops of golden yellow. The laces themselves are black as well, tied in a neat bow in the back of the small garment, and when lifted out of the box it appears hard to the touch, woven so tightly that nothing seems like it could get through it. Looking at the whole, though, it almost clearly represents an accurate depiction of the lava lakes in the Climb.
All the while, the butcher sips from the wine, posture straight as he watches over the rim of the glass for Danta’s reaction.
The first box, smaller than the other is opened to reveal a covering of white lace. Removing it reveals what looks like a tiny corset, adorned with black and orange hues, sparks and pops of golden yellow. The laces themselves are black as well, tied in a neat bow in the back of the small garment, and when lifted out of the box it appears hard to the touch, woven so tightly that nothing seems like it could get through it. Looking at the whole, though, it almost clearly represents an accurate depiction of the lava lakes in the Climb.
All the while, the butcher sips from the wine, posture straight as he watches over the rim of the glass for Danta’s reaction.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
