Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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It’s late by the time Astaroth manages to find his way toward the Grounds, let alone from Skyport and figuring out all that new… Insane technology. It’s fine, though, he manages it (not without looking a little bit stupid along the way, but nothing a quick bite can’t solve for those that had bore witness to it).
He’s sated and arrives like a dark shadow, down in the depths of the Inner Quarter, precisely right where he imagines the only person he’s really here for to see might be. He’s greeted with a surprising amount of things, perfect for Ancients and their way of life, taking mental notes of the bonfire as his cane and boots click across the stone ground, drifting deeper and deeper until he reaches the Last Whisper, posture impeccable and a completely indifferent look along his face.
He's far more put together this time as well. His posture is perfected, the dark red coat sits snugly against his frame, flashy boots and pants with a faint pinstriping, hair slicked back. He looks every inch like the asshole from the past, only new and improved. Not a hair out of place or a speck of dust or blood clinging to his body or clothes, especially as he zeroes in on the Dusklight from across the way.
It screams Dantalion in a way that is mostly insufferable, but he decides to simply silently ruin the Maverick’s day by settling back, leaning against the wall, hands propped on the top of the cane as his dark gaze focuses on the building and nods politely to people milling in and around it.
And he waits.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy /// everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
He waits? Good. It will be Dantalion's pleasure to keep him waiting.
The Maverick doesn't appear for some time, having been attending to matters of either business or pleasure (both) elsewhere in the Inner Quarter, and when he does stroll down the length of the Last Whisper towards his establishment, it's with one of his favourite ladies on his arm and a smudge of blood on the cuff of his silk shirt, so it won't take much to put two and two together.
He's whispering something salacious into her ear and patting her rump on the way into the Dusklight when the sight of Tall, Dark and Dickhead catches his eye, Danta drawing up straight and halting in the doorway of the building. The roll of his eyes is almost a palpable thing, and he shrugs out of his coat and hands it to the whore so she might take it inside, before fixing said bloody cuffs and spreading his arms in welcome.
"Astaroth," he croons. "Made it here at last, did we? What do you think?"
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Asta doesn’t mind waiting, at least. It gives him time to take in the entirety of what this space has become, time to decide whether or not he can pluck and pull the parts that screamed Dantalion out of the rest of it. And gods, it becomes a game of sorts with the mental checklist he has going.
Blood? Check. Red? Check. Gaudy for no really good reason? Check.
You get the idea.
It’s that entirety of a checklist that is also met when that familiar figure arrives, a woman on his arm, the speck of blood on the cuff of his shirt, the rings and jewelry that glint in the light down here.
Astaroth is acknowledged relatively quickly at least, and does admittedly grin there in the shadows as Dantalion’s back snaps straight. And he waits, knowing that Danta wouldn’t be able to leave him alone.
He does step forward when the other Ancient’s arms spread in welcome and he’s acknowledged, the click of the cane and his boots a dull echo as he steps out into the light a bit more, meeting the Maverick halfway. “It looks as if you are replicating.” He points toward the Dusklight with the cane, before it sets back onto the ground and he bends a little to lean toward the other man. “I will admit I do prefer the colors.” He always had, though, and cockily he opens his arms to reveal the same blood red fashioned into the jacket that fits his body tightly and perfectly. It’s the only compliment he can summon up, though, keeping his other thoughts locked within his mind.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy /// everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"I have no idea what you could possibly mean," Danta says, smiling like a knife as he beholds the much more put together asshole before him. Asta certainly has found his way to a tailor or two since the Maverick oh-so-kindly broke him out of his rocky prison, it appears. Following his fellow Ancient's gaze to the Dusklight's exterior and the decor visible even from here, he can't help but let the smile grow, gesturing for the other man to set foot inside.
"If you like it out here, wait until you get a real taste of it," he purrs, already following to push open the door and hold it open for Asta like a good host. Within, the sound of a soft jazz guitar is already audible, and the heat hits like a wall, accompanied by a bouquet of spices on the air. "What's your poison these days? It would be wrong of me not to offer you a drink at least, poor, homeless waif that you are."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
It’s a sharp smile that he’s met with, and it’s an equally sharp one offered back from the taller Ancient. He absolutely knows what Astaroth means, but for the sake of it he keeps from elaborating. They both know, and that’s enough for him. So as he points at the Dusklight with that cane, and Dantalion purrs and holds the door open, he certainly won’t admit it but he is a bit charmed about it.
So he sets the cane back down, clicking against he stone as he moves toward it, too well dressed for the establishment but caring little about it as he drifts through the open doors, nostrils flaring for a moment at the intense heat that hits him, welcoming him into its embrace. He doesn’t let it show, of course, but he drifts in like a shadow, listening to the jazz that plays before he pauses at the offer, looking over his shoulder and down at the other man. “Mm, whiskey. As it has always been.” He steps immediately toward the bar, slipping out of the tight fitting jacket and folding it over the edge of the chair he intends to sit in, cane set on the edge of the bar top as he slips into it, glancing around with a blank face, careful to not let Dantalion see any of the approval that settles deep in his gut and the frustration it brings alongside it.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy /// everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
Don't you worry your antlered little head about it, Astaroth - Danta makes sure he gets a good eyeful of every blank expression and veiled approval shot about the place, sidling around to the business side of the bar after making a few greetings and squeezing a few hips. "That's one thing that hasn't changed in all the time we were asleep," he says, his conversation drawling but nonetheless palatable for it. "The taste of a good whiskey."
Clucking his tongue for one of the staff, he has a young woman with soft, small hands pour a measure of amber liquid for the taller Ancient - in the meantime, Danta busies himself whispering in the ear of a nearby waiter and nodding out towards one of the patrons who appears to have made a mess of himself.
"You're welcome to stay for as long as you like," he says when he eventually returns to Asta, sure to layer on the genial host act - and every favour he stacks up with each moment the other man is present. Indeed, Danta almost purrs a welcome home in Astaroth's direction, but even he knows that might be a bit too much too soon.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
A low hum leaves the taller Ancient in agreement to the whiskey fact. One that has him inclining his head just a little – probably the most amount of approval he’s actually capable of sharing in this moment. “It is better than most things.” He comments idly, before a thought strikes him and his lips twitch in a small smirk, dark eyes focusing on the woman that pours the drink for him. He takes it with all the pleasantries as he has for the woman while Dantalion busies himself.
He does cast a glance back to see what he’s doing, before he takes a sip of the liquor and smooths his soft, silken shirt, dark eyes lifting when Dantalion returns. His head tilts slightly at the undertones there, half tempted to say that the Maverick doesn’t have to pity him, but his gaze drops back toward the other man’s bare arm (where he can still recall coming so close to taking a bite), as his tongue dips out to wet his lips in consideration.
He doesn’t comment on the offer, but instead his head tilts, dark eyes flicking up to meet Dantalion’s bright gaze, that smirk returning. “Do you recall that drink Sari made?” He muses, lifting his glass to hide his smile as he takes a second sip, letting it burn in his throat, a glimpse of approval at how much better this tasted than that monstrosity, but he wouldn't have put it past the other Ancient to craft something just as terrible for him to drink the second he'd arrived.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy /// everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
Since Asta is doing his favourite brooding asshole impersonation tonight, Danta opts to draw up a seat for himself, because it's more comfortable than standing around while the other Ancient desperately tries not to enjoy himself too much. "Ugh, how could I ever forget," he all but hisses, the mention of Sari and drink enough to have muscle memory burning the taste of liquor and hot pepper and chocolate back onto his tongue.
"In theory it should have tasted good," he recalls, nose scrunching, and Danta helps himself to a whiskey on the rocks to wash away the memory of the taste. "And yet." Huffing out a sigh, he spiders his fingers up the side of his glass and furrows his brow. "She's probably dead now, you know."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
It is absolutely his favorite impression, thank you very much. Especially when he’s trying not to give away the fact that he actually approves of whatever Dantalion has made. The grin grows, though, at the mention that the Maverick couldn’t forget, a small chuckle of a laugh leaving him in agreement, one that ends with a sigh as he crosses his ankles and leans a little forward in the seat, drawing a hint closer to the Maverick.
“It had nothing sweet. The chocolate was bitter and the peppers weren’t of the best quality.” He muses, dark eyes watching as Danta’s fingers spider up the glass, watches the furrow that sprinkles through the blonde’s brows, and he leans forward. “Yes, well, you thought I was dead, too. And yet.” He removes his hand from his glass to do a little jazz hand impression at the crescendo of the jazz guitar’s solo, timed perfectly without even intending it to be so, before he sits back a little straighter. He's not sure why he feels the need to try and alleviate that look from Danta's face, but he feels it almost as carnally as a bloodlust.
“Perhaps she’s a statue out there, dreaming up the perfect cocktail?” Gods knew he dreamt the entire time, a mixture of good and bad that he doesn’t dwell on for long, even if the mention of Sari dreaming likely gives him away.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy /// everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"It must have made an impression on you, to remember those details after all this time," Danta says through a scoff, lifting his drink to take a healthy swig before setting the glass back down, the burn of the alcohol luckily enough to distract him - mostly - from thoughts that threaten to become morose at any moment. And whatever's left is very much banished by the sudden jazz hand waggling in his face, not to mention the accompanying snark.
"Yes, well, that's true enough. If only I had found Sari out there in the Lava Pits instead, mm?" he snips back, glancing over Asta's shoulder to nod to someone and glance towards one of the side rooms, before returning his attention to the other Ancient. "Oh, did we dream during our naptime as well?" He grins. "It felt like I was asleep forever and for a second, all at the same time."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Asta flashes Dantalion another amused grin before his shoulder shrugs lightly, the silky fabric wrinkling with the movement. “Believe it or not, I remember quite well when someone butchers chocolate recipes.” He liked sweets, what could he say? Of course it would linger when it was so bitter it was more akin to black coffee than sweet, amazing, chocolate.
Regardless, the jazz hand appears and Asta’s lips quirk in amusement. “She’d likely be more than willing to craft yet another disaster to ruin the name of this nice establishment.” His tail lashes out a little in his frustration at letting it slip, despite how the smile remains. The drink lifts and he takes a sip, blaming the alcohol and the fuzziness it brings, distracting him from how Danta looks over his shoulder toward something, internally chastising himself first.
One that remains with the question of the dreams, and if he had his canine ears he’d absolutely pin them given the chance. As it stands, though, his tail continues to flick in annoyance behind the edge of the bar. “It felt like any other night for me. Only, it was a dream that happened for quite some time.” He shrugs casually, burying himself into downing the rest of the drink and sliding the glass toward Danta with a tilt of his head, as if expecting another one.
He'd need plenty at this rate if he keeps letting things slip.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy /// everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"Mmm," Danta replies pointedly, his smile catlike, the sort that suggests he's just stored away what Asta has to say under a file called interesting tidbits, possible weaknesses in his head. It's all good though, because the next one goes into a glitter covered folder in his head labelled **COMPLIMENTS**, and the smile becomes a wide, fanged grin. "Nice, did you say?" he echoes, straightening up and letting his fingers run along the wood grain of the bar.
His tail curls with glee, translucent horns catching a ruby hue from the lighting as he leans across the bar to collect the empty glass. "Just for that," he purrs, "I'll make you something nice." Of course Danta has only been teaching himself to properly pour drinks he enjoys, as well as a few cocktails. Luckily for Asta, one such cocktail is on the list for right now.
"I meant to ask. How did you find the skyboat?" he says conversationally as he works, having pretty much abandoned the other man in an attempt to lose him in Torchline's crowds. Turning back to the bar, he sets a delicate glass down before Asta, sliding it across. A martini - a chocolate one, just for his lanky, grumpy customer.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
The immediate shift of mood from Danta only adds to Asta’s tail lashing beneath the bar, the compliment aired and caught and the buzz that burns in Asta’s hot blood only continues to bloom from the alcohol as he ducks his head the tiniest bit, dark eyes focusing on the way Danta lifts so effortlessly, as if the compliment was all he needed to alleviate the shit spanning centuries between them.
Astaroth doesn’t respond to the comment, instead, his nose wrinkles – which is answer enough for the other Ancient, and he exhales a slow sigh, fully not believing Dantalion is capable of crafting him anything nice, immediately suspicious of it. But he is surprised as the Maverick is the one to actually craft it, watching idly while his tail starts to calm down from a lashing, pissed off cat, to waving idly.
“It was… Strange. Innovative, I suppose, but strange.” He shrugs lightly, sitting back and exhaling softly. “I even took one to Stormbreak after.” More idle commentary, no details on that, but the attire he wears should make it make sense. And it’s all he has to say for the moment as his dark eyes take in the martini glass sliding toward him, leaning forward as he inspects it. He’s still uncertain, taking a sniff of it and smelling nothing but sweet chocolate and a hint of alcohol (he knows there’s more in it than it gives away), but the chocolate immediately has his gaze lifting to Danta as he takes a sip.
He stills so quickly, lips twitching in a smile that wishes to bloom, and between the alcohol and the surprising kindness, and his head tilts a little – one lock of dark hair falling into his face. “This is… Divine, Danta.” It feels like he’s trying to choke when he says it, but the second it leaves his lips it sounds as sincere as he’d intended it, even if it burned.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy /// everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"Mm, they've built a lot of shit that's surprised me since I woke up," Danta agrees, this murmured, of course, while he's across the bar concocting Asta his drink. "Then again, maybe it was always like this outside The Climb. Not as though I'd know." It's the Maverick's first time exploring the big wide world, after all, even if he's come far in the short time he's been off leash.
Ah, but then there's a taste test to conduct, and of course Danta has taken his seat right across from the other man again, chin cupped in his hands. And granted, while he doesn't expect nothing, he's surprised at the barefaced sincerity of the compliment (a second one, be still Danta's heart) for something as small as a drink. "You're welcome," he drawls, making it sound a lot like shut up, before withdrawing to finish his own drink and letting his fellow Ancient enjoy his martini in relative peace for a moment.
"You see the bonfire yet?" he wonders after setting his empty glass aside, absently rolling up his bloody sleeves as he speaks.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
