[SE] melancholy hill

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

“I would prefer that.” He decides as he steps up and sends the dart flying. It isn’t terrible, and it is getting better. Enough that he’s relatively satisfied when he steps back and collects his cup to sip from. “I am not used to throwing darts.” it’s an explanation, one that likely proves he could be better at it if only he had even more practice.

He watches, though, this time taking in Danta’s form, admiring the way his body twists with the throw, the way his arm moves through the air, only to get a smidge closer to the bullseye. “Probably so.” A soft hum of a laugh escapes him as he steps back up with his last dart, peering at the board full of yellow and green, but with eyes only for the bullseye.

It doesn’t get that much better, not to Danta’s level so far, meeting in between his last green dart and Danta’s yellow. Huffing a snort that’s somewhat annoyed, the butcher steps back and finally starts to fuss over himself, more himself now than he had been.

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Treat it as an opportunity to learn a new skill, maybe?" Danta grins; in truth, almost all of his practice comes in passing, since there's a board down in the bar and he's the type of man to get easily bored. Making a mental note to show it to Asta the next time they are downstairs, he grabs up his cup again to sip at his tea and watch the butcher take his shot.

And they'll have to leave it at that, he supposes, the Maverick grinning and padding across the floor to collect all the darts - including the one from the wall. "Look how far you've come, though," he gestures to the hole in the plaster, gathering the darts together and returning to the butcher's side. Something in him relaxes imperceptively to notice the tells that are all Astaroth, and he reaches out to affectionately brush a lock of his dark hair back behind his horns.

"Want to go again?" he asks, offering him the darts back out and finishing his tea, unsure if the other man will want to continue to bask in his distractions for a while longer.

Dantalion

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

“I think I would have a preference for knives if given the opportunity.” Astaroth admits, his lips quirking at the corners. He has not seen the dart board downstairs, but the idea of practicing with knives and getting really good at it would likely only prove to the patrons more that the butcher isn’t to be trifled with. So long as it isn’t these poor shots with the darts.

Either way, he steps back to fuss over himself, letting his dark gaze flit back toward the Maverick as he collects the darts and returns to his side. “Perhaps we don’t count that one.” Bending ever so slightly to help Danta readjust the lock of dark hair behind his pronged, antlered horns. He settles back on his heels and his tail flits easily at his heels as he regains his near perfect posture.

Draining his cup of tea if only to snag the darts, the butcher nods and finds himself smiling easier. “I would love to.” But not before he leans in to press his forehead to his lover’s and steal a chaste kiss, humming a soft “thank you, love” as he parts, for all of the help the Maverick had been to get him back to himself.

Resetting to face the board and continue to mimic the Maverick’s body position, the butcher launches his first green dart, watching as it plunks a bit closer to the bullseye and better than his last throw had been – but still, not quite there yet.

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Perhaps we'll have to make one of these rooms into somewhere for target practice," Danta croons, setting down his empty teacup. "I'm sure some of the Dusklight's patrons are into knifeplay, so we could even make a feature of it." Grinning - because he's certain that will delight the butcher to no end (not) - Danta surrenders the darts back to Asta and accepts the kiss he's owed with quiet delight. "No thanks needed," he purrs back to him, stepping back to let him take his shot.

And oh, it looks as though Asta's practice has been paying off, the Maverick tilting his head approvingly and stepping up as well. "Nicely done," he tells him, letting his own dart fly and pausing for a brief moment - because he thinks he's done it. Only, fuck it's landed just shy of the bull, something that has Danta hissing a curse through his teeth. "Never mind our fireplace - this dartboard is cursed. Or haunted. Maybe both."

Dantalion

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

Oh, Danta’s correct when he’d said the butcher’s emotions and thoughts were easily read on his face when he relaxes enough to take his confident mask down. Because when the knife play comment drops, it’s certainly a reaction that crosses the butcher’s face — though perhaps not the one the Maverick expects. It’s a thoughtful one, a surprising acceptance of it. “Is that so?” He asks, curious, before he pushes it aside to snatch that kiss.

Then his dart goes better than any of the previous ones, and there’s a quiet brimming delight that blossoms within him, tail weaving like his fyrhund shifts tail might wag. But he steps back and leans in to see Danta’s dart go so close to the bullseye. “What was it you said? Practice makes perfect?” It’s a snarky response to Danta’s loss… but. It’s very Astaroth.

He steps up to take his next green dart, taking a few moments to collect himself before he lets it fly. It goes wide, thunking into the middle of the outer ring and his tail goes from easy wagging to thrashing of annoyance. “Dreadful.” Comes his own complaint, arms crossing his chest as he steps back and glares at the dart board.

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"That is so," Danta confirms, eyebrows raising with quiet surprise as immediate horror and disgust don't invade the other man's expression. "Why, is that something you think you'd like to try?" he asks. "I'm sure if you wait until the rage room is finished, you'll be able to give it a go on yours truly without leaving any lasting damage." You know, if that would tickle his fancy.

Promptly rolling his eyes at Asta's sass in response to his just missing the mark, Danta can't help but fold his arms across his chest and offer a smug grin to see the butcher's second dart go wide. "I think you deserved that," he informs him, stepping up to let his own fly - and it lands just beside his first, if not a little tiny bit further away from the bullseye. Sighing as if it has just insulted him personally - the dart, that is - he gestures for Asta to try his last dart.

Dantalion

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

“Perhaps.” The butcher hums with a smirk, one that ends in a deep but soft laugh and a roll of his eyes. “I do not think I would particularly enjoy causing you pain, darling.” Easier and easier the coat of Astaroth comes on, leaving Ferrox and his nightmares behind. “Not like that, at least.” Though, he isn’t sure. Maybe he does and he just doesn’t know yet. Maybe Danta’s into that.

Who knows?

What he does know is his dart goes wide after he’d just been snarky, and his nose wrinkles as he steps back and folds his arms across his chest, refraining from giving into childish, petulant antics such as sticking his tongue out at his lover for the back talk. He watches as the dart goes essentially right next to Danta’s last throw and honestly? He’s impressed. At least the Maverick is consistent. Something that the butcher tries to replicate when he steps up and throws his dart.

He watches it plink into the board right where Danta’s dart sits, knocking it loose to fall to the floor. Still just a hair away from the bullseye. “Mm, tough luck, darling.” He whines dramatically but the grin on his face is too bright and pleased to really show any kind of sorrow.

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Well there's only one way to find out," Danta says as if it's obvious, the smile on his face growing easier as time passes, especially as he sees Asta come back to himself. "I know it isn't quite the same as sinking your teeth into me, but if we can't experiment with no strings attached, when can we?" Grinning now, he steps back to allow the butcher to take his shot - and what a fucking shot it is.

"Mmhm," the Maverick drawls, clenching his jaw to stop his mouth from falling open at the same time as his dart clatters to the floor. Spinning his last one between his fingers, he nudges Asta out of the way with his hip, raising the dart, looking briefly at the board, and letting it fly.

Right into the bullseye.

Freezing for a moment, as if to check he's actually done it, Danta offers the other man little more than a sunny smile before swanning away to finish his tea - leaving the dart right where it is. "Sorry, were you saying something?" he asks once he's taken a sip.

Dantalion

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

“I suppose that is true.” He agrees before everything happens. And gods, does it happen. He’s nudged out of the way by his lovers hip, only for the most effortless throw with the largest result he could have gotten. And the butcher’s huff of breath is both surprise and disapproval, a scoff as Danta swans toward the tea cups and Asta stands there staring at the bullseye with a hint of a flush to his skin that’s from the surprise.

His tail flits behind him in chaotic wags, no rhythm what so ever before he straightens up a bit more and lets his own sore loser-ness come out to the surface (one that Danta likely knew well from the butcher in the Climb days.) A flick of fire zips to the dartboard, eating away at the dart in the bullseye, before letting the ash fall to the floor and the butcher twists back to his lover with a bright and sharp smile at odds with the action. “I said tough luck.”

Gatekeep, gaslight… girlboss!Asta?

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

Danta's own tail curls with delight as he finishes his tea and turns to appraise Asta. You know, Asta? Who lost at darts just now? That Asta. And the Maverick is about to be a magnanimous victor and take pity on his poor untalented beau when he goes and sets his fucking victory dart on fire. Danta's jaw does drop this time, brow furrowing in an instant frown, especially as the butcher repeats himself.

With mere seconds to think of a comeback or a retaliation, Danta makes sure to hold the other man's dark gaze as he holds out his teacup, and then blatantly lets it go so it can shatter wonderfully on the floorboards at their feet. (Luckily it isn't one of the prized cups from the set he'd helped Asta procure from the Last Whisper, but still). "Oops," he says, not sounding remotely apologetic.

Dantalion

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

There is a small amount of smugness that pours over the butcher’s handsome face, one that doesn’t last obviously as he takes in Danta’s reaction — and the subsequent action he chooses to do because of it. In all fairness, he shouldn’t be surprised, and yet he is. Asta started this, Danta looks as if he’s trying to finish it, but it brings out the butcher tenfold as he makes eye contact with his lover (bigfatwinner, eye roll) and sees the cup as it falls to the floor clattering into a million pieces.

Truthfully, he’d be far more upset if it were the red cups. But given that these were the day to day cups and definitely not prized, it doesn’t faze him much aside from the fact there’s an even larger mess on the floor.

His gaze snaps back to the Maverick’s face, tail still sporadic in its flicking as he steps toward Danta and situates his face with a too sharp grin. “Dantalion, darling, that was unnecessary.” And yes, it is said with the equivalent of a parent saying their child’s full name rather than the deal the butcher has struck with Danta previously.

It still doesn’t stop him from invading his lovers space and reaching up to snag his arm to prevent him from becoming like a cat to knock the kettle and whatever else on the table off.

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Accidents are often unnecessary, Astaroth," Danta fires back, equally as smug now that he's gotten to repay his lover's pettiness with some of his own. "And this was an accident. I said oops, did I not?" Tilting his head and straightening up as the other man approaches, Danta is expecting anything from a kiss to a snap of teeth, but as his arm is snagged, he raises his eyebrows in challenge.

"Now that's uncalled for," he says, bullying his way further into Asta's space even with his arm pinned by the butcher, head tipping up as if to try to look him right in the eyes. "I could get the wrong idea with you doing something like that." It doesn't stop him from planting one foot behind Asta's, though, his free hand coming up to give him a spirited push, as if trying to trip him backwards.

Dantalion

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

“You did.” He drones with a tone that seems to suggest that he either hadn’t heard it or it didn’t matter. Instead, he invades his lovers space as he snags his arm, listening to the way he claims this is uncalled for, swooping into his space. He, perhaps, wouldn’t be so worried if it weren’t one of the Maverick’s favorites.

A snort escapes him and he smirks, his grin turning sharper. “No, something tells me you won’t.” Asta practically purrs, precisely at the time that Danta does in fact succeed despite the butcher’s attempts to step around the leg that winds around his. The wrong foot goes back, and he grips Danta’s arm tighter as he loses the war of keeping his balance.

And down the butcher goes, only connected by the Maverick’s pale arm.

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Mmhm," Danta drawls, expectant and with raised eyebrows towards Asta, even as he feels the other man's grip increase on his arm. It's about 50/50, he thinks, that the butcher will trip and go down, but what the Maverick hasn't accounted for is that he might not let him go in the process. Instinctively, wouldn't you know, Danta really doesn't want to tumble onto the floor, so he pulls away as Asta pulls down.

And pop! goes his shoulder in the process.

His sharp curse is cut off as he staggers abruptly forward, as if to overcompensate for the other man hitting the floor, but it's far too late for that. And with a sharp, stabbing pain in an arm that he suddenly can't move, Danta gazes quite abruptly at Asta, a mix of confusion and shock and pain on his face. "That doesn't feel right," he tells him in a tight voice that tries valiantly to stay calm about it.

Dantalion