in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"I know I promised you a date back in Leafchange, but it blinked by before I could properly organise things for us," Danta is apologising to Astaroth as he leads them across the marble flagstones of the Temple. The Maverick is practically walking backwards, a hand outstretched and snagged around Asta's fingers, his eyes alight with the sort of chaos that makes them appear darker, the sort that promises violence in the near future.
It's very, very late. Not far enough into the night for morning to be on the horizon, but well beyond when most partygoers and revellers would still be out in public. No, this is a time for private affairs, and it's exactly what Danta has planned. He's dressed in pale colours, his white shirt crisp and pressed, his pants a pale and dusty blue; the sort of outfit that will show up splashes of other colours all too easily.
As they continue to move through the Temple, the torches flanking their soon-to-be rage room soon come into view, the smoulder blossoms beautifully decorating the entry way. "Close your eyes," he urges Asta. "I want this part to be a surprise."
It's very, very late. Not far enough into the night for morning to be on the horizon, but well beyond when most partygoers and revellers would still be out in public. No, this is a time for private affairs, and it's exactly what Danta has planned. He's dressed in pale colours, his white shirt crisp and pressed, his pants a pale and dusty blue; the sort of outfit that will show up splashes of other colours all too easily.
As they continue to move through the Temple, the torches flanking their soon-to-be rage room soon come into view, the smoulder blossoms beautifully decorating the entry way. "Close your eyes," he urges Asta. "I want this part to be a surprise."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
