go home, lie down, decompose

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

“Hah, of course you wouldn’t, darling.” He drawls, amusement falling into the lines on his face as he prepares himself both mentally and physically to try to not fuck up enough that he falls. After all, he doesn’t want to deal with any bruising that would likely occur from the drop onto the hardened, rocky ground. He pulls away from the kiss with a sense of there’s more where that came from if you catch me if i fall, before he’s hesitating for the Maverick to get into the position before he climbs up onto the offered hand, utilizing the wall for additional support.

He does make it quick at least, finding a moment of enough stability to thwack the sharp end of the pickaxe into the vein, ensuring that as the pieces fall and clatter to the ground that none of them hit the Maverick.

“That should do, I imagine?” They get enough in a short span of time, considering he doesn’t need that much of it, and so he starts to make his descent, careful and thoughtful of Danta who has hoisted him up.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

For all of their shitfuckery, Danta can at least come through when it counts, and he offers a surprisingly stable base for Asta to stand on, peering up as well as the other man gets to work. Expecting clumps of ore to tumble down around him, he nonetheless can't help but scrunch his eyes closed as if worried he's going to be battered by them, but luckily the butcher is mindful of their positioning.

"You're the boss," he replies as Asta suggests they might be finished, a muscle feathering in his jaw by now, and he lets the other man down gently as he steps back - hopefully enough not to topple his balance. Letting out a hard sigh and dusting off his hands, he inclines his head to the other man. "Count yourself very lucky, I don't offer to be a step-stool for just anyone, you know," he says, gesturing around at the pieces of copper. "Is this it? Or do you need tin as well?"

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

“No you are.” Asta purrs once he’s on the ground again, flashing a too sharp grin and a wink toward the Maverick. He lets the other Ancient straighten up and stretch and he sets the pickaxe down in order to collect the pieces of copper and add it to a separate section within the bag he’s brought.

Humming a soft laugh as he hoists the bag back up over his shoulder and the pickaxe, drifting closer to the Maverick. “Darling, Danta, I am the luckiest man alive.” Where Danta thought he would avoid any bragging, he thought wrong as the butcher purrs the main factor of his bragging.

“Ah, and luckily for you, from my higher vantage point I happened to spot what looks like tin, in a reasonable to reach place.” He gestured toward the vein sparkling across the cavern on the opposite side, hidden behind a pillar from where they hadn’t seen it earlier. “That means you can take a well deserved rest.” Already he’s marching past Danta toward the vein he’s found.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"I'm doing a lot of grunt work for the boss," Danta points out with a catlike smile; following Asta around, acting as his boost when he needs to get to hard to reach places, putting up with his bragging. Luckily the Maverick chooses to view himself as the reason behind the butcher's considerations, and he fixes his collar and his cuffs as the other man puts the ore in all the right places.

"Well aren't you resourceful," he purrs back, nudging Asta with his hip before dutifully letting him take the lead, as if to make sure they don't run into anything problematic (or if they do, that the butcher is the first one who has to deal with it). "Oh, I plan to," he says, hiding a wide yawn behind his hand and stretching his arms above his head.

As soon as they reach the tell-tale vein of tin, he plops himself down onto the stone to watch Asta at work, leaning back on his hands this time rather than fussing with an origami. "Are you going to be able to manage that super heavy bag on the way back home?" he wonders, smirking.

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

Huffing a laugh at the comment, Astaroth shrugs lightly. “Perhaps you are reminding yourself why you are above it now.” Lips quirking into a smirk. That internal thought that Danta has as he readjusts his cuffs and collar about being the reason why Asta is lucky, is entirely correct, though perhaps he should verbalize as much.

Instead, more work lies ahead of them him, and it’s with the pickaxe on his shoulder and the bag in hand that he drifts across the cavern, feeling the nudge of the Maverick’s hip as he walks past, earning a soft snort. “Very good.” He hums his agreement, and before he knows it they’ve reached the other side of the wall.

Dropping the bag and pushing up his sleeves to the point the tips of the scarring from his biceps can be seen, he starts to pick at the wall, collecting bits of tin metal ore. “I only can because it is only a portal skip away.” He assures Danta, as if proving that the grunt work for the blonde was over.

And to prove the point, Astaroth flashes a knowing smirk over his shoulder before he swings into the rock again. It only takes a few good swings to get enough to melt with the copper to make the bronze, and he slips it into the bag before hoisting it over his shoulder, his willowy, spidery frame offset by the heaviness of the bag. “However, the sooner the better.” Letting the warm chuckle escape his lips, he steps over toward where Danta lounges.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"Mm, that must be it," Danta agrees, blue eyes filled with mischief (and made all the bluer by the shirt) as he glances up at Astaroth from his comfortable place on the ground. "Well, if it does get too much for you - this manual labour - do let me know and I might be persuaded to carry the bag for a spell." Because he's nothing if not a benevolent overseer, no? (That and he loves Asta and obviously wants to do things for him).

Not use the pickaxe, though. Don't be silly.

Watching with interest as the butcher hacks at the wall, his shirt tight across his shoulders and back, the muscles in his forearms playing beneath the skin, it's only as he realises Asta has gotten what he needs that Danta properly comes back to himself. Rolling to his feet, he's kind enough to relieve the other man of the pickaxe at least, so he doesn't have to carry both.

"Look at you with all your cane metal," he purrs, jostling Asta playfully as if to unbalance him before starting to lead the way back towards the portal. "Is this all you need from The Climb, then?" he asks, just in case there's something else they can tick off the list while they're here.

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

He is a benevolent overseer some days. Today is a questionable one, though, that seems to begin on the right foot as the Maverick takes the pickaxe and Astaroth hoists the heavy bag, his willowy body sagging to the side slightly with the weight of it. It’s fine, though, it isn’t that different than trying to handle a body most days, and with the inherent experience of that, the butcher is confident he can make it this far.

Either way, the Maverick comes back to himself, all while Astaroth was confident he was being ogled (not that he would complain in the slightest with it being Danta’s bright blues watching his every move), he offers him a bright, too sharp smile and a nod of his head – before he’s jostled of course and the scoff is nearly as loud as the curse that slips past his lips as he becomes unbalanced just as Danta had hoped for. “Ah, darling, I thought you were intending to be helpful.” Comes the drawled whine, readjusting the heavy bag on his shoulder as if it had become dislodged during his balancing act (it had almost to the point of him completely falling over, but he doesn’t want to talk about it).

“It is everything I needed for the quest – though I have heard rumors of visitors to Frey’s Breath in search of a lily. Perhaps that might be something we could do soon?” Not that it took much time to get there from here – but given the pickaxe, the heavy bag of ore, and the sooty mess they’ve become, it seems like it may not be the vibe for the rest of this trip.

Either way, the butcher draws up beside Danta again, keeping his distance with a rueful look, just in case.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"I am being helpful. I was just testing your balance to make sure you wouldn't fall over," Danta says cheerfully, adjusting the pickaxe over his shoulder and pressing onwards. "Ah, right - the lilies," he adds as Asta brings them up, the Maverick nodding. "Kiada mentioned they were here as well. I can't say I feel as though we'll have much luck finding any, but I'm never going to say no to a trip to the hotsprings with you."

Shooting a wicked smile over his shoulder - both at the careful distance the other man maintains and the idea of being able to ogle him further at Frey's Breath - Danta nonetheless agrees that it's probably for the best if they schedule that trip once they've ferried the ore safely home. "Gods, it's almost like you don't trust me," he drawls, still grinning and ducking his way through the tunnels until they reach the portal. Gesturing for Asta to go first, the Maverick offers him a dramatic flourish to boot.

"After you."

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

“I am more likely to fall over if you keep testing me, darling.” Astaroth whines, fully falling into his dramatics for a few split seconds before talk of the lily distracts him from the Maverick’s betrayal. The idea of hot springs to soothe his sore muscles, though, sounds delicious, and his steps grow a touch more excited at the prospect. “Shall we drop off the ore and return, then?” He asks, still keeping his distance as the portal comes upon them.

Letting a deep chuckle escape him, the butcher gives a knowing look to Danta as he hesitates by the entrance of the portal. “There are times I most certainly do not trust you.” His grin twists a touch sharper and his tail flicks to punctuate the point before he watches Danta up to the point of slipping into the portal and warping the fire of the bonfire to ensure the bag doesn’t catch flame. With ease, he’s on the other side, hesitating and waiting for the Maverick to join him, keeping the flame parted for him.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"Aw, don't be so hard on yourself," Danta purrs, as if it's Asta's own lack of self-worth that will make him fall rather than anything he does. (Maybe he'll even believe his own lie if he doubles down on it enough). Brightening at the idea of coming right back to play in the hotspri-- er, to look for Rae's Lilies, the Maverick nods decisively. "A fine plan," he agrees, eyes lingering on Asta as he approaches the portal, noting how the other man refuses to turn his back on him until the very last moment.

Which, honestly, is probably a wise choice.

Still, following after him happily enough - and offering a fanged and grateful smile to see him parting the flames for him to step through, Danta promptly starts leading them towards The Last Whisper and the Dusklight waiting below. It won't be long before they have dropped everything off and are able to return, and he's suddenly eager to go swimming.

~FIN

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //