the evidence is on my body
but I never complain
but I never complain
Astaroth seems to believe it’s under the pretense of not knowing anyone who wasn’t from here that acted and behaved in such a way that led him to think there was little to no way they could possibly be anything else but Caido born. It’s the same as what Danta often told him when it came to the Ancients – having not been born as one like the Maverick. He’s just as much Ancient as he is. Deimos is just much Caido as the rest of them were. “Oh, most certainly.” Comes the warm laugh from the butcher’s throat, too sharp teeth on display as the grin flashes and he starts to collect the pieces.
Pieces that will need to be drenched in blood later, but that’s neither here nor there for the moment. They’ve all worked hard and learned a thing or two, right?
He works on a few other smaller portions, though, utilizing some leftovers to work on making a sleek dagger, utilizing Deimos’ help with the thinness of the metal. “No, I tended to avoid it. Dragons, you see.” Asta flashes a crooked smirk toward Deimos – recalling the previous part of their conversation, even if Asta had simply never gotten strong enough to go without being harassed. “I am sure you have been, though?” If the strongest person in Caido couldn’t have gone, well, that didn’t bode well for the rest of them ever visiting, did it?
The smile broadens with the mention of the hellhound shift – camaraderie found in canine shifts born for blood and fire. In his case, blood and fire through Dygra’s own beautifully capable hands. “It most certainly does.” He agrees, lifting the flattened portion of the dagger now to inspect it before he starts to sharpen and polish it. “Do you have any experience brawling with whips, perchance?” Astaroth pauses in his attempts to smooth the blade out if only so he can glance over toward Deimos with dark, mahogany eyes, the question clear within them.
Pieces that will need to be drenched in blood later, but that’s neither here nor there for the moment. They’ve all worked hard and learned a thing or two, right?
He works on a few other smaller portions, though, utilizing some leftovers to work on making a sleek dagger, utilizing Deimos’ help with the thinness of the metal. “No, I tended to avoid it. Dragons, you see.” Asta flashes a crooked smirk toward Deimos – recalling the previous part of their conversation, even if Asta had simply never gotten strong enough to go without being harassed. “I am sure you have been, though?” If the strongest person in Caido couldn’t have gone, well, that didn’t bode well for the rest of them ever visiting, did it?
The smile broadens with the mention of the hellhound shift – camaraderie found in canine shifts born for blood and fire. In his case, blood and fire through Dygra’s own beautifully capable hands. “It most certainly does.” He agrees, lifting the flattened portion of the dagger now to inspect it before he starts to sharpen and polish it. “Do you have any experience brawling with whips, perchance?” Astaroth pauses in his attempts to smooth the blade out if only so he can glance over toward Deimos with dark, mahogany eyes, the question clear within them.
Astaroth
i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing
