// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //
“Thank you, darling.” Asta says with a warm laugh, tail flicking behind him as he feels the smack to his arm that Thalassa leaves behind, his grin vibrant and radiating the joy into her, evident by the way it’s reflecting back at him. Arrogance is a coat the Butcher wears well, and without a sign of it stopping he starts to show off the gifts he’s been granted – starting with the green fire. It flares brighter before he extinguishes it, his dark gaze finding her face again. “So far, everything else is gone aside from a new version of Bloodbane, the fire, and my deer shift.” Which has been an adjustment to say the least, and given that Thalassa is his friend, the smile he shoots her way is a touch conspiratorial where he lets his voice drop low. “Far weaker, as I said. But I shall get better.”
It’s a vow for himself as much as it is those around him, felt as though he’s suddenly put on a pedestal that he must excel with. And luckily for him, he spies the way her attention shoots up and that little mental connection clicks for the Butcher, straightening up to grin at the bone dragon. “That is Sicarius.” Asta hums, reaching up to snag the bone dragon from where she creeps halfway down the rooftop toward them.
She drops suddenly, caught easily within the butcher’s hand. “She is young, but Dygra has blessed me with her as well.” The bone dragon wiggles a little, more like a noodle made of bones than anything substantial, and it’s truly a wonder how she even moves as fluidly as she does. But eventually she settles with her pitless eyes on Thalassa, leaning forward to inspect her with a black puff of smoke.
It’s a vow for himself as much as it is those around him, felt as though he’s suddenly put on a pedestal that he must excel with. And luckily for him, he spies the way her attention shoots up and that little mental connection clicks for the Butcher, straightening up to grin at the bone dragon. “That is Sicarius.” Asta hums, reaching up to snag the bone dragon from where she creeps halfway down the rooftop toward them.
She drops suddenly, caught easily within the butcher’s hand. “She is young, but Dygra has blessed me with her as well.” The bone dragon wiggles a little, more like a noodle made of bones than anything substantial, and it’s truly a wonder how she even moves as fluidly as she does. But eventually she settles with her pitless eyes on Thalassa, leaning forward to inspect her with a black puff of smoke.
Astaroth
// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //
