mississippi boys, inner city boys

// I thought of angels choking on their halos //

"I can see that," Danta says of Asta enjoying the vacation to its fullest, his tail waving behind him in amusement. Where others might continue an argument, the Maverick's chaotic nature can't help but want to embrace this version of the taller Ancient, and he relaxes as best he can into the arm that curls around his shoulders. "I do miss you having back pockets, though," he remarks; all the better for Danta to slip his hand into and cop a feel, you understand.

Wrinkling his nose at the image - he despises the butcher arriving home as anything other than the confident and menacing presence he's fallen in love with come to expect - and nodding softly, luckily talk of their own fountain will have to wait, because soon enough Torchline's biggest asset is coming into view. There are naturally a few people sitting around it, some sipping water, others washing hands and faces - and yes, perhaps a couple of people swimming.

Stepping away from Asta, perhaps Danta's footsteps do pick up a little as he approaches, the Maverick reaching out to splash his face and take a welcome drink from the fountain, a substantial amount of tension flooding out of his body. "Fuck," he mutters, laughing under his breath. "I didn't realise how sore I was."

Dantalion

// get them drunk on rose water //