// I'm putting you out of your misery //
Flora has seen this version of him before, something monstrous and terrible, leaking shadows like ink with tendrils ready to strike and nab. Claws replace hands, sharp and large and terrible – a wolf-like skull replacing his own head, sharp teeth more akin to a dragon’s as he leans down into Kaisel’s space. The boy doesn’t back down just yet, even as he spots Danta’s arrival and the way he seems shut down. It’s enough that his shadows flicker, the fire leaking out of his chest extinguishing in plumes of smoke that escape the gnarled ribcage.
But it seems to take a few moments for Kaisel to come to his senses, and it’s only because he’s Flora’s lover that the butcher doesn’t show him exactly where his place is.
Instead, the orange, fiery glow of his eyes watch as Kaisel jumps back, dragging Flora back and hauling her back with him, granting enough space for the butcher to step forward toward him – all that of a stalking predator, bending to get into his space. “Astaroth is right here, dear boy. And he is still awaiting your apology.” The sharp, toothy skull grins, shadows leaking out of him more to snap at the accepted’s feet, his voice still dissonant as if two separate notes are vibrating against one another in an unholy demonic means.
The reminder, though, of Danta so close stays everything else he wishes to impulsively do – and where the butcher’s fiery wendigo-esque Haunt begins to drip away, it leaves him standing there with his too sharp teeth and shadows still curling around his form. His hand rises, brushing his dark hair back behind the tines of his horns – that are still far too extended out to be his natural set – and he straightens his shirt after, stained and peppered with the remnants of Kaisel’s drink. Whether or not the butcher gets the apology from Kaisel, Asta’s focus is more on Danta at this precise second now that the frustration has subsided and he’s had his time of theatrics.
Huffing a little sound, he steps past Kaisel as he draws his posture back up, prim and proper, stepping past the accepted on a straight beeline for Danta with tension in his jaw, extending a hand for him gently. “I am so sorry, darling.” Comes out on a low, thickly accented hum of his voice, just for Danta's ears hopefully over the roar of the party.
But it seems to take a few moments for Kaisel to come to his senses, and it’s only because he’s Flora’s lover that the butcher doesn’t show him exactly where his place is.
Instead, the orange, fiery glow of his eyes watch as Kaisel jumps back, dragging Flora back and hauling her back with him, granting enough space for the butcher to step forward toward him – all that of a stalking predator, bending to get into his space. “Astaroth is right here, dear boy. And he is still awaiting your apology.” The sharp, toothy skull grins, shadows leaking out of him more to snap at the accepted’s feet, his voice still dissonant as if two separate notes are vibrating against one another in an unholy demonic means.
The reminder, though, of Danta so close stays everything else he wishes to impulsively do – and where the butcher’s fiery wendigo-esque Haunt begins to drip away, it leaves him standing there with his too sharp teeth and shadows still curling around his form. His hand rises, brushing his dark hair back behind the tines of his horns – that are still far too extended out to be his natural set – and he straightens his shirt after, stained and peppered with the remnants of Kaisel’s drink. Whether or not the butcher gets the apology from Kaisel, Asta’s focus is more on Danta at this precise second now that the frustration has subsided and he’s had his time of theatrics.
Huffing a little sound, he steps past Kaisel as he draws his posture back up, prim and proper, stepping past the accepted on a straight beeline for Danta with tension in his jaw, extending a hand for him gently. “I am so sorry, darling.” Comes out on a low, thickly accented hum of his voice, just for Danta's ears hopefully over the roar of the party.
Astaroth
// 'cause darling you're dragging me down //
