[SE] under the same sky

// you knew who I was //

"Maybe they'll lead to better spots, you don't know," Danta says with a grin, raising his glass to clink it softly against Asta's before taking another sip of his drink. "We'll have to get you a book with the most up to date constellations. Maybe your bloodhounds are called something different nowadays." It won't stop him from referring to their original name, of course (even if he will leave los sabuesos to Asta's charming accent).

La ballena has his gaze turning back skywards, head tilting a bit to rest on Asta's shoulder as he tries to make out what he means. Laughing under his breath, Danta shrugs a carefree shoulder. "Your old tribe had really funny looking whales," he says of the boxy shape that's apparently supposed to replicate the creature. "But noted, if I'm ever in dire need of reaching the Sea of Glass in the middle of the night."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// i saw the walls, finished and plain //

“That is true, I would not know exactly where they lead anymore.” The Butcher agrees with a fond laugh, clinking his glass to Danta’s with a small, crooked smile. He takes a slow sip and relishes in the chill again, his other hand and tail now wrapping around Danta to keep him close as though he might be able to leech the heat from the other Ancient. “I would imagine they are called something else.” He sighs a little dramatically.

But then he’s sinking into the explanation of la ballena and feels the warm weight of Danta’s head rest against his shoulder. “Oh, darling, they had no idea how to draw anything. That was likely the closest any of them got to art.” A glorified, sparkly stick figure whale. “I was an enigma.” He purrs to his fiance’s ear before he withdraws with a low rumble of a laugh. Asta’s had actually been beautifully done, fleshed out and still somewhat archaic. “I also had plenty of time on my hands while I was scouting.” He doesn’t know what the other scouts did when they were out, but Asta had been the only artistic one he knew at the time.

Astaroth

// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //

// you knew who I was //

"Or maybe they aren't," Danta supposes, more than comfortable playing devil's advocate with himself as he tucks closer against Asta to share their body heat. "That'd be even more of a surprise, if their names have survived. Guess I'll have to find you that book for an extra birthday gift." He knows Torchline isn't exactly renowned for its libraries or bookshops, but it is a Safrin region, so perhaps star-related materials won't be quite as difficult to come by.

Laughing easily as Asta throws shade at his old tribe, the Maverick sits up a bit as well and nods his acknowledgement of his lover's artistic flair. "Gods, I wonder if we'd be able to find any of your old things, if we ever went up there..." Resoundingly unlikely, but then they'd never know if they didn't give it a try.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// i saw the walls, finished and plain //

Sighing with amusement and a flare of dramatics, Asta hides the smile on his face with another sip of his drink. “You do not need to get me more birthday gifts, darling.” He protests weakly with a laugh – because he knows it’s futile point. Danta would do as he pleases and that’s only part of why Asta loves him so much, so for as much as he could complain and try to keep him from bombarding him with gifts.. well, he knows it would do little good in the end and he’d gladly take anything he gave him.

As Danta sits up, Asta sinks back a bit to lounge, propped up on an elbow now, tilting his face into Danta’s arm and his elbow to press a kiss or two there, before he’s looking up at him with his dark gaze glittering with mischief. “Perhaps. I had considered asking Deimos whether they had recovered anything from Whitebrim when it was exterminated.. But, I did not wish to give him an idea of where I came from. Although, I believe he already has an inclination.” He hums, lips pursing slightly as he tries to consider how much the Warden knew, wondering silently if Maea had decided to blab.

Astaroth

// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //

// you knew who I was //

"I don't need to do a lot of things, but I do them anyway," Danta reminds Asta with a defiant lift of his chin and a fanged smile on his face. It just so happens that showering his fiance in gifts is one of the less chaotic examples of it in practice. Glancing down at the other man as he settles back to lounge and nuzzle against his arm, the Maverick expression softens into something quietly adoring, half hidden in the dark but revealed by the moonlight.

"Mm, at this point even if he did know where you came from, it's hardly like you are responsible for anything recent. Deimos wouldn't have even been born when you were scouting the Tundra," he reminds him. But all that's to say he also understands why Asta doesn't want to advertise it, exactly, and so Danta leaves the point be. Instead, tipping his head back to finish his drink, he sets the glass down on the blanket for its moon and star ice cubes to slowly melt.

"Shall we try and get up to Halo at some point next year?" he asks suddenly, as if it is only just occurring to Danta that it's a real possibility for them now.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// i saw the walls, finished and plain //

Truer words have never been spoken than the one Danta reminds him with. It’s enough that he lets the easy laugh bloom from his throat, sinking down to nestle into his fiance’s side, peering up at him with his own mirrored quiet adoration. He sits in the shade the Maverick casts which only serves to be a perfect spot to be as Danta peers down at him in shadow apart from the cool toned rim lighting that illuminates the golden strands of his fiance’s hair and makes a prismatic spectacle of the diamond horns that nestle into the gold.

“Perhaps.” He murmurs softly, distracted before he’s downing the rest of his own glass to set it aside to join Danta’s own, comfortably warm with the haze of the liquor blooming in his chest. “That is a fair point, but I imagine it is different given that it would be a strong indicator of my preferences.. And how unlikely it would be to have heard of a reformed cannibal if their main choice had been to destroy them all.” He snorts, head tilting as he lets an amused smirk flicker across his face with a flick of his tail.

To hear that they could go to Halo, though, has him suddenly realizing it’s a possibility too. “Sure. Deimos mentioned that when Kiada visits he still keeps a ring of fire around her just in case which we could certainly manage. Perhaps we should ask her where she tends to visit?” She was the only Ancient he knew that had ventured regularly to Halo, at least.

Astaroth

// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //

// you knew who I was //

"Mm, in Halo's defence I don't suppose they ever got to have chit-chat with the cannibals of Whitebrim they ended up destroying," Danta points out with a crooked smile. "And even if they had, none of them would've been quite as well spoken as you." All of which is to say that he's quite certain that Deimos won't throw Asta in with whatever example he's been given of the people of Whitebrim in the past. And if he does, well, Danta is still Theocrat of the Hollowed Grounds, so he can come and talk to him about it.

Reaching out now that his hand is free, the Maverick carefully teases a lock of dark hair behind Asta's horns where the wind has disturbed it, humming his ready agreement with the idea. "I'll ask as soon as we get back," he decides. "We can take a quick jaunt up there during Flowerbirth, provided we have the time around all the wedding planning."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// i saw the walls, finished and plain //

At the Maverick’s rebuttal, Asta can’t help the amused huff that leaves him while the other Ancient certainly knows all the good spots to hit when it comes to his arrogance. “Mm, well, in Whitebrim’s defense, if it were anything like it was when I left, they probably didn’t choose to talk first.” After all, it had been the overwhelming hunger that had Asta defecting from the only thing he’d known growing up. Self-preservation was one hell of a drug when faced with an absolute demise.


His eyes shutter closed with the touch of Danta adjusting a strand of his hair back behind his horns, incapable of keeping the smile from his face. “We can always combine them, no? Spend some time in Halo while planning? I can make an excuse that we would like to load up on Halovian whiskey for the occasion.” He blinks up at the Maverick with an all-too innocent look in his eyes that’s not at all reflected in the dark glittering mischief in his grin.

Astaroth

// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //

// you knew who I was //

"And whose side are you on?" Danta grins, his tone playful, his fingers trickling down to brush against the line of Asta's jaw. "I suppose that's one more argument for your being a reformed cannibal, at least. We both know that talking is one of your favourite things to do." He winks, leaning in to silence any resulting talk with a brief, chaste kiss pressed to Asta's mouth.

Raising his brows at the suggestion to combine touring Halo (the warmest bits of it anyway) with wedding planning, the Maverick shrugs his shoulders. "Why make it an excuse? We could go whiskey tasting while we're there, make it really worth our while. Then we could order our favourites to the Dusklight for the party." And suddenly this is sounding much more like a real plan than a spur of the moment what-if.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// i saw the walls, finished and plain //

Sighing affectionately, the Butcher’s smile tugs up brighter against the feel of the Maverick’s fingers brushing against his beard. “He does not have to know I’m fully reformed.” He pauses, because he’s silenced by the chaste kiss to his lips – far too short for anything the Butcher really wants now. “Though I have been sickeningly good as of late.” Comes the dramatics, Asta taking the opportunity to sink back into the blankets fully, stretching out against them with the view of the starlit sky above them.

Smirking up to the other Ancient, he nods his head and only creates a fan of black surrounding his head while his tail flickers and he goes to bully his way into dragging Danta on top of him. “Research, then. A personal favorite.” He teases, before he’s giving his lover a taste of his own medicine with a warm, green fire touched kiss to chase away Torchline’s Deepfrost chill.

Astaroth

// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //