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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
Oblivious to Aithne's presence in a way he'd normally be razor sharp to pick up on - and her apparent connection to Vesper - Jack has already sank a shot of liquor and is refilling another, doing the same for the young demigod and offering it out towards him. Suddenly it doesn't matter how the festival goes as long as he's able to view it through a glaze of reckless decision making and a high probability of forgetting it all, which is probably what also makes him a prime target for the shining crimson light of the blood moon.
He's unlacing a boot before he even realises he's done it, still sipping at his drink, and by the time the other is undone and he's kicking them off completely, the glass is empty on the stall counter. "Fuck these," he mutters, promptly yeeting them at the Everlasting Bonfire where, to the surprise of absolutely no one at all, they are quickly consumed by the flames.
"MmHMM," she answers, of the orgies, leaning in towards Hawthorn and his leather and lace. Her smile curls sly as she gives him another quick up and down, glad at least one of them had come prepared to look fantastic (he is always prepared). "Is that where I should look for you if we get separated? Although...perhaps I won't." Lost on purpose in that case, she could safely assume. Not particularly keen on catching him in any sort of act either, not if he didn't need rescuing for his own health at least. She has enough mental torment all on her own, she doesn't need to be plagued with any unnecessary additions.
As her gaze scans the crowd over the rim of her glass, a shout from Kaisel in the distance nearly drowns out Thorn's question. "Could always wander down the vendor stalls and see if anything catches our eye." The intentional raise of her 'brows in return suggests there's only one thing that'd shine for her, and it likely isn't up for sale behind a booth. All the easier to people watch if they're on the move though.
They don't make it very far though, nearly at a jerky stall, which does good, before the Everlasting Bonfire swirls around the figure of Dantalion leaping through it. She thumps a hand across his chest to point it out to him, a strangled "oh my gods!" slipping free. It takes a moment before a laugh comes, a touch of relief in it. "Oh fuck, I forgot they can do that." Nothing caught fire, cloth or skin, and she shakes her head in mild wonder at the feat. It's then that she notices Nova sparkling past, seemingly in her own happy world, and recognition grabs Colt fiercely. "Nova!" she calls out, waving the glittering girl over. Starting with a sister seems as good as place any to finding Vesper.
Colt is with Thorn by a jerky stall and just called Nova over
Colt
Got turned around in that setting sun and it turned into missing you
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
The blood moon is BRIGHT. The blood moon is STRONG. (Did you get the Pokemon reference? No? Fuck you).
Regardless of your taste in Nintendo games, even through the steady patter of rain, the scarlet moonlight continues to bathe everything in shades of red. In fact, you'd be inclined to think it was raining blood if you didn't know better.
Because a chaos deity renowned for blood offerings would never actually cause something like that to happen, would she?
...Would she?
Colt has the urge to kiss the person closest to her Thalassa has the urge to challenge someone to a duel using sticks Kaisel has the urge to start a fight with someone
With the warmth of her kiss lingering despite the continual kiss of rain drifting in, he wanders the distance with Flora in arm with a lazy, contented smile. He looks as much still when they arrive before Astaroth, and curiously his gaze follows after Dantalion as the man races off and gracefully plunges himself through the fire. Kaisel bellows out a cheerful yeah!! of encouragement after watching the fire part around the Ancient, unsurprised by the attraction he must have felt to the call of the flame. It is pretty, and Kaisel would happily romp through it too if he could manage it half as well.
For now, he's content to burn at Flora's side, still simmering with affection as his attention flicks back towards Asta. "Hi Astaroth!" he greets easily, raising his glass with the hello, some of his strawberry mojito still remaining. Overhead, the red glow of the blood moon seems to, intensify, like an old office light humming along that has become too bright after slogging through paperwork. He squints a touch beneath his dragon hoodie, inhaling as if to speak, but seems to think better of it and instead draws back the hand with his drink in it and suddenly throws it at Asta's face.
"Nice outfit," he sneers, stepping in closer, posture tall with threat even as he's forced to look up at Asta.
Kaisel
It'll all make sense when we arrive
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
Flora and Kaisel make their appearance and the butcher warmly extends a bright grin to the couple as they join him. “’Tis the Blood Moon.” The butcher snorts, the warmth of the absinthe keeping his throat comfortably on fire as he watches the steam erupt from the Maverick’s landing. Drawn back to the couple, he’s about to offer a tidbit of gossip for Flora and Kaisel should they be interested in it, when Kaisel’s flipped a switch.
His grin stays, even as a touch of confusion flares and he steps back to avoid the majority of the drink even if it fails and spatters across his front. Thinking, perhaps, it was an accident it becomes very clear that it isn’t when Kaisel squares up with him.
“How cute.” The butcher says – and honestly, he’s been looking for a reason to let his haunt out just to prove to the accepted that it was more than a puppet show. The grin sharpens and widens far more than it should realistically be able to be, his voice dropping into dissonance that squeals against ones ears. “How intimidating.” He snarks back almost as if in boredom.
He'll apologize to Danta later, but for now the shadows wrap around him until he’s even taller than his usual position when Kaisel got into his space, warping and molding into his body until it bulks out and his horns grow in a spiderweb of extended tines, fire burning out of his arms and chest as if cut from the scar tissue that sits beneath the shirt, his shadows taking on a cacophony of smiling, anglerfish-like teeth in shadows that line against the ground and the stall behind him. “I think an apology would suffice, wouldn't you agree?” He growls once the transformation takes place, as the soldier stares up at a fiery wendigo ready for a reason to unleash, hesitating to let his glowing orange gaze flit toward Flora.
Asta lets his haunt go and squares up to Kaisel :3 SRRY DANTA
Haunt (Ancient): Can distort their form and the surrounding environment within 30ft to reflect their most monstrous, primal self.
Type: Dark | Rank: Mastered | Cost: Action
Feeling thoroughly invigorated by the kiss of the flames and with a broad, fanged grin, Danta glances back around for his lover to find out what trouble he's gotten himself into during his brief absence. He doesn't expect him to actually have encountered any, though, so when he spots Astaroth in Kaisel and Flora's company, it's with the assumption that they're just enjoying themselves.
Then Kai throws a drink at Asta and gets (as much as he can) in his face.
Danta's hands drop where they've been brushing ash from his clothes, his expression melting into something dangerously neutral. He has no idea of the context, but given that the butcher is his ride or die, it hardly matters. If he's fighting, they're fighting. Or at least that's his intention until he sees the first warning signs of Asta's haunt start to bleed out.
Feeling his breath freeze in his throat and his body recoil instinctively, the Maverick is close enough to be able to catch hold of Flora's hand as if to tug her back away from Asta, tail lashing fretfully at his heels. "We don't want to be here," he whispers, though whether she hears his voice over the din of the festival is anyone's guess.
Dantalion
// so aim it straight and true //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
It’s a lively party, even despite all the mud and the light drizzle of rain. Exciting for the Attuned enough that even when she drifts from stall to stall and hears the familiar roar of Kaisel’s voice ring out over the crowd that it can’t dim the sunshine she feels in her veins. A shot or two down and a fuck it attitude has her skirting past one of the tables as something explodes in shadows and fire, ignoring it entirely to see out her sister.
It seems like Nova is busy meeting up with Colt and someone she doesn’t recognize, which leaves her on a trajectory to her father who’s just decided to toss his shoes into the fire. Weird, but go off king.
She slips up beside Vesper as easy as a summer’s breeze, shooting him a vibrant grin, greeting the stranger that’s in the mix (Aithne) and Jack, flushed warmly by the excitement of the party and the liquor in her throat, the looseness of her bones. “Helluva party, huh?” She chimes as she bunches up her sleeves up to her elbow and claps her hands together.
11-19-2025, 08:21 AM (This post was last modified: 11-19-2025, 08:22 AM by Flora.)
ditch the clowns, get the crown
Flora is mid-smile—warm, bright, charmed—her whole expression softening at the sight of the Butcher as she calls out, "Asta, you look handsome tonight—" And then Kai’s drink leaves his hand. It splashes across Asta’s chest in a glistening arc of strawberry mojito and absolute horror, and Flora’s breath cuts short in a sharp, startled gasp. Her fingers twitch at her side, eyes going wide, her whole body jerking as if someone has snapped a whip next to her ear.
"Wh—" But he’s already peeling away from her, stepping in, squaring up to a man who is not only half a foot taller but who's also quite a powerful ancient with more than the capability as well as the inclination to tear Kaisel apart for ruining his outfit.
Her heart lurches painfully against her ribs as the shadows begin to shift, slipping up Asta’s frame in a sick, crawling bloom she knows too well. She’s seen his haunt—she knows it’s terrifying—but her pulse doesn’t drop into her stomach the way Danta’s does. The Maverick’s hand clamps around hers and she glances over her shoulder to see the panic in him, breath tight, tail lashing like he’s caught between fight and flight.
Flora's fingers stiffen in his grip instead of following; she doesn’t pull away, just holds firm, whispering back a quick, urgent, steady, "No—but—" barely loud enough to be heard over the rising din. Because this wasn't Asta losing control, it was Kaisel.
She tries not to look directly at Asta’s monstrous form, but instead blinks up at Kai, voice pitched sharp with alarm as she tries to position herself in his eyeline. "Babe—!" The word comes out half-plea, half-warning, her aqua eyes wide and bright with urgency. Then, louder, clearer: "Rupert." A single name. Their codeword. A lifeline thrown across firelight and growing shadows, begging him to stop whatever the fuck has seized him before this becomes something none of them can pull back from.
Flora is with Kai/Asta, and Danta-ish
11-19-2025, 05:40 PM (This post was last modified: 11-19-2025, 05:41 PM by Kaisel.)
Don't need to know where we're going
The change taking place in front of him doesn't seem to immediately register, not in the way it should for Kaisel. He sees Astaroth ’s frame extend, as if all this time the ancient has been neatly folded into a cute deer-tote for maximum carrying efficiency, only to unfurl into its full structure of horror at the twist of a few shadows and bone. The infomercial for how easy Astaroth™ is to set up and later disassemble blares through the whining static of the late-night demonstration; nothing better on than shopping for shit you don't need.
Even as Astaroth's shape telescopes up into its full potential, Kaisel's head only tilts further back, features locked into a tight, destructive determination. Darkness swells around the ancient, a commanding cloak of warning that shreds around spits of flame, moving into a blur on the borders of light like something impatient and hungry barely restrained. The blaze sharpens every contrast—amber gilding the ancient’s exposed skin starkly cut against his shadowed margins that collapse into a nightmare silhouette. There's no warmth or invitation that's typical of something burning, just the threat of joining the inferno, a one-way venture.
The contradiction of terror that sprouts into being is crowned with a sweep of tines, Kaisel's gaze promptly tangling in them. Around an unnatural smile, eerie words coax for apology, but Kaisel's fingers tighten around his glass as if he means to brace for the fracture of it in the strike he's readying. It's then that a sea emerges—bright, vibrant, cool—cutting clean through the red heat dragging him into a riptide of chaos. Flora’s eyes, wide and earnest, hit him first. The frantic trigger pull of 'Rupert' follows, the force of a slap that reaches through the mounting hysteria.
Kaisel blinks rapidly. Every part of him uncoils in a breath and he staggers back faintly, head shaking in tiny jerks like someone dragging themselves up from a dream’s undertow. "Wha—" he starts, not because he’s forgotten anything, but because none of it fits together anymore.
The full scope of his fear slams into him then, each heartbeat a new wash of emotional fuckery pulsing through him, this one streaking like lightning from head to toe. "What the FUCK IS THAT!?" he explodes, voice pitching up with raw panic. He grabs Flora without thinking, hauling her back with him as he recoils from the towering creature. "Where the fuck is Astaroth?" he demands, because despite watching the transition happen, he cannot parse that this vile thing is one and the same. There's enough confusing aspects to all of this that trusting anything right now seems unreliable, and leaves him doubting if he's woken up from that dream yet.
Kaisel
It'll all make sense when we arrive
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
Hearing her name through the din of chaos, Nova looks around to spot Colt nearby. Grinning, she responds with a full-body wave, the fireworks' fuses fluttering in her hands. "Colt! Hi!" Not wanting to have both her hands occupied, the bright red drink (luckily just punch) goes smoothly down her throat, the empty glass finding a place on a table along the way.
She bounces forward, mud slapping against the cherry bedazzled rainboots peeking from beneath her iridescent outfit. Pink hair frames the brightness of her eyes when she giggles. "Do you want to light fireworks with me?" Not really waiting for an answer - because who doesn't want to watch things blow up? - Nova spins, seeing another friend that has her smile brightening. "Oh! Hi Thorn! Do you want to join us? It'll be fun!"
---
Nova joins Colt and Hawthorn by the jerky stall and invites them to shoot fireworks.
If she hadn't already determined to leave Asta and Danta to their own antics, Thal might have rushed to their aid; but she's set on her own goals, and there are other factors at play. The bloom moon bathes the night in red, casting a red outline against Thal's damp hair as she throws back a glass of something strong and amber. When the crystal falls away from her lips, a laugh follows, musical and bright as the freedom of chaos blossoms in her chest. There's a sharp glow in her eyes, eager and hungry, searching the crowd while her hand flings the glass to shatter off in the distance.
The other hand reaches for a tree high above her head, letting her body drag down to snap the stick from the branch. Flicking her wrist, the wood whistles in the music of the night, her fangs flashes as she catches sight of a familiar face amongst the crowd. "Hey Colt! Pick up a stick! Let's see if you learned from our last bout." The challenge is laid bare, her feet moving quickly to intercept the woman, ignoring the people around her in favor of a fun competition of skills in the moonlight.
11-20-2025, 06:16 AM (This post was last modified: 11-20-2025, 06:16 AM by Colt.)
On an all night high off a midnight kiss
She releases her hold on Hawthorn to give Nova a full and true wave over, unwilling to sacrifice the drink in her hand to any bit of spilling. Her features brighten with the returned greeting and the approach of the shimmering girl, ever a beacon of joy and eagerness, which has a contagious quality. "Ooh, fireworks? Is it you that's been helping send them up randomly?" She throws out a conspirator's grin at the possibility, gaze admiring the explosive tools in Nova's hand. She could indeed be tempted to send one skyward, just for the shits and giggles of it all.
Before she can stake her claim on any such fun, much less casually pry for information, her name is brandished in a much more intentional manner. It lacks ire, just the bold slap of a challenge, to which her whole body turns to face head-on. "Thalassa? A duel?" Her stray hand presses in on her hip, 'brows lifting as she takes another pull at her drink while Thalassa approaches. She is not overly inclined to let the Ancient kick her ass in the mud, at a party (she's beginning to wonder if Thal knows what parties are actually for), but she measures up the swagger and the potential just the same. Calculating her response, nothing offered yet but a glittering grin that doesn't give much away, she lets Thal close the distance between them.
Something like certainty rolls over all the questions and the doubts in her mind, sharp and clear. Above, the red tinge of the moon gilds her golden hair, providing a bloody halo of light to every edge of her as she steps in sudden and surefooted to Thal. Her free hand snaps out to grab hold of the stick and shove it aside forcefully, while the rest of her leans in to remove the remaining gap between them. Her smile softens away from a razor, parting just faintly as she tilts and sets the full warmth of her lips against Thal's. The kiss is dizzying in its fierce but tender press, a brand of heat and suggestion that she marks the Ancient with as if they've done this dozens of times before.
Colt
Got turned around in that setting sun and it turned into missing you
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
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.
Flora doesn't pull away but she doesn't come with him either, and Danta is not brave enough to keep trying. So as she heads for Kaisel the Maverick's feet are already carrying him back another few steps, blue eyes fixed on the towering silhouette of bone and shadow that the butcher has become. He's afraid to look away in case he draws the creature's attention, even if the familiar curl of nausea begins to churn in his gut to keep his eyes on him.
The rest of the crowd has already made themselves very scarce, all but the bravest of Ancients, or those who know Astaroth from the Dusklight. They stay, equal parts awed and horrified and clearly keen to see how this plays out. Danta can only imagine their disappointment when fiend becomes man once again, all writhing shadow and perfect posture, not a drop of blood spilled despite the provocation.
Swallowing hard and forcing his own social mask clumsily into place, he crams badly shaking hands into his pockets and offers Asta an overbright smile. "It's okay," he tells him, voice rough with what he hopes can be played off as a drink too many to everyone else. "I think I'm gonna go and give myself a little space though, if you don't mind? Sorry about... I... yeah. Sorry."
Offering a too quick nod towards Flora and Kai, Danta tries his best not to actively flee the Inner Quarter, but he's not slow about it either.
Danta out!
Dantalion
// so aim it straight and true //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
