Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
Danta had said to take a look at the bonfire he’d created. And truthfully, he hadn’t wanted to witness it with the Maverick sitting there slamming him with complaint after complaint. So he’d wandered here on his own – still just as impeccably put together, cane and boots clicking across the stone floor as he arrives to the crackling, glimmering bonfire with gemstones within that sprinkle the surrounding area with hues of other colors, not unlike a stained glass mural. It's a warm, glowing cascade of oranges and reds and yellows, at odds with the gloomy overcast day, casting dull shadows around the area.
Internally, he admits it’s beautiful in the face of the greyed out world around it. Externally, his face is unchanged as he drifts a bit closer, craving its warmth. A sleeve is pushed up, cane shifting to his other hand, the reflection of the flame flickering against his attire and changing the hue of his horns to reflect that rainbow, oil like effect. His tail curls contently behind him, and he lets his fingertips press into the licking flames, humming a light sound to himself as it curls around each of his fingertips, feeling closer to Dygra as he could be right this second.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
That's the thing though, isn't it Asta? You can't always get what you want. And whilst Danta isn't around, as in, he hasn't been actively stalking his new employee business partner, he is in the area. It kind of comes with the territory of being leader of a region and all that.
And so, as he flits out of the Temple and is about to head back to the Last Whisper, he can't help but do a doubletake at the sight of the gReAt AsTaRoTh relishing the heat from a fire he's created.
"Enjoying yourself?" He purrs, his fingers whispering across the length of the other man's shoulders as he sidles by, arriving to stand next to him to admire the roaring flames. "The gems all came from Soulfire Reach." A little piece of home and a little piece of mother to keep them going, even out here in the Hollowed Grounds.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
Fingertips curl into a fist hidden by the bright flames that lick at his skin when that voice crosses along his shoulders. He otherwise looks flippant, unaffected as Dantalion steps up beside him, his dark gaze sliding from the flames toward the Maverick, a dark brow rising as a smile curls across his lips. “Concerned with my contentedness, hm?” He drawls, withdrawing his hand to watch the brief bit of smoke curl away from where a fuzz from his shirt had drifted onto his skin in the flame.
He turns more fully toward the bonfire, adjusting his suit a little as the cane taps against the ground. “Admittedly a good choice.” He confirms, even if it’s through slightly grit teeth. Teeth that are still formed in a smile. “Looks better out here than in there. At least you can enjoy the stained glass effect.” He shrugs a shoulder and turns to face the other Ancient more fully, as if expecting him to say what brought him over. Surely it wasn’t his choice.
Either way, Astaroth does let his gaze drift up and down the Maverick.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"Hardly," Danta replies with a sly smile, his body fully facing the bonfire even if his eyes have flicked across to Asta. "If anything I'm pleased to see that the Grounds is to your liking." You know, since he runs the place. And they do look like two peas in a pod standing before the wall of flames, basking in their heat and their prismatic glow.
"I thought having it outside would make it more of a feature," he agrees, though he can't be held wholly responsible for the colours of the gems; those had been part of Dygra's requirements, after all. "How are you finding things?" he wonders conversationally. Usually he only sees his fellow Ancient in the evenings when his services are required.
As for what has brought him over, Danta remains suspiciously quiet on the matter. Perhaps he's just enjoying the other man's company? (Ha).
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
A deep chuckle leaves him at Danta’s response, before he rolls a shoulder quite casually. “It’s far freer than we’re used to, mm?” Which could cover any number of things, but he does specifically feel the ability to be able to stretch his legs, bask in the sun, anything he typically didn’t get to do while living in the deeper cave system.
But he’s sure that Danta has a different reaction to his words. Something he specifically doesn’t bring up. “It can be considered a beacon.” He agrees, turning to face the Maverick now with his lips still curved into the smile, taking him all in. It’s companionable, which is strange, but perhaps he’s starting to realize they’d gotten pitted against one another on the past. Maybe it isn’t so bad, sitting here having idle chatter with the other man.
“Good.” He answers succinctly, before his head tilts. “A lack of wandering bodies to sate the bloodlust, but, I have managed.” His teeth and his smile can’t possibly get sharper, yet somehow it feels like they have.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
It's true - the second the words drip from Asta's lips everything about Danta seems to turn to steel; the set of his jaw and shoulders, the way he straightens, the hardness in his eyes - eyes that are now very interested in the bonfire before them. "Most free I've ever felt," he agrees, the tone warm even if his expression could cut glass. Rolling his shoulders as if forcing himself to thaw somewhat - it's bad enough having the reaction without knowing Asta has caused it, and that he's fully aware that he's caused it - Danta clears his throat and turns to the other man.
"Ah, that is a shame," he agrees, as conversational as he can get. "Plenty of wild animals, at least. I hope it doesn't need to be said, but the Grounds and I would appreciate it if you kept your teeth out of the general population while you're here. The rest of us have managed it well enough." What Astaroth does in other regions is entirely his business, of course.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
For once it isn’t aimed as a slight — instead, a connection. Because while he didn’t deal with everything Danta had, he had his own chains that kept him restrained. “Happy to hear it.” It’s a genuine comment that slips from his smiling lips. He’s trying to break through the prior grievances (likely due to the strange kindness of before, the acceptance of his work, something that is making him think perhaps together they’d be a force to be reckoned with, so that nobody would pull their chains again).
At the mention of keeping his teeth to himself, he lifts the hand that had been in the flame before and waves it as if waving off the notion. “I’ll be good.” He drawls with a sigh. “Unless someone truly deserves it.” His smile shifts sharper again and he pulls his gaze away from the Maverick to the small surge of people moving about in the street. “Though, I have made a deal with the clinic for the darker urges.” He admits after a moment, his dark gaze sliding back toward Dantalion.
04-12-2024, 07:54 PM (This post was last modified: 04-12-2024, 07:54 PM by Dantalion.)
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
Unable not to be suspicious in the face of what he swears is something genuine, Danta's brow remains furrowed even as he offers a stiff nod, more than happy to move beyond their respective pasts and into the here and now. Straightening the lapels of his coat and angling himself slightly away from the fire to properly commit to their conversation, he does at least manage a smirk at the other man's drawling tone.
"I hope it stays that way," he says, of Asta's being good. "Unless someone deserves it, of course. And whatever agreement you made is between you and the clinic, so long as it doesn't bring trouble to my door." Because then Danta will have something to say, and he isn't that much of a fan at distributing justice and all that jazz.
"Speaking of trouble," he continues, glancing back towards the steps leading into the Last Whisper. "Some sailors from Torchline are having the time of their lives down there. Care to join me in teaching them some manners?"
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
A noncommittal hum leaves Astaroth at Dantalion’s little chastising, at least until the agreement is accepted and a laugh leaves the Ancient, an incline of his head as his grin remains practically glued to his face. “I’m adept at cleaning up after myself.” It’s punctuated with the way he straightens his posture, fixes a slight wrinkle in his sleeve, his clothes impeccably clean from blood.
Following the Maverick’s gaze toward the Last Whisper, Asta’s head tilts slightly. “Do you have to even ask? I would love nothing more.” He admits, and the gleam in his eye proves that he does want something to sink his teeth into. If not physically, then emotionally. A fight sounded like the perfect place to start that.
He playfully bows toward Danta to take the lead, his taller shadow following behind the Maverick with the clink of his cane and sharp toothed grin.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"Yes, I am full aware of that fact," Danta drawls; even now that his fellow Ancient is here and (for all intents and purposes) put together, the Maverick knows well the sort of carnage that Astaroth can leave in his wake. It's something - loathe to admit it as he might be - that he greatly admires about the other man. Ahem, but anyway.
"Good. I was hoping you would say as much." With a smile that, while nowhere near as disconcerting (or permanent) as his companion's, still manages to be sharp and suitably ravenous, he turns to lead them towards the steps down into the shady boulevard. And even before they reach the last step, the echo of rowdy voices is very much apparent.
They haven't targeted the Dusklight, because even they aren't that foolish, but there are a few other establishments that seem put out by the presence of a bunch of rough and ready pirates sailors. "If you would be so kind," Danta murmurs to Asta, examining his nails.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
It’s probably a good thing Danta doesn’t admit that it’s something he admires, not needing to give Asta the ego boost. For now, though, perhaps it’s time he proves just how strong he can be. A reason why nobody should come down and fuck with the status quo. As it stands, he’s basically Danta’s attack dog.
He follows the Maverick until he’s down the steps and the voices reach him, and the group of sailors don’t seem to be too put off by the region leader standing there and the tall menacing shape behind him. A shame for them, of course.finding a ledge nearby, Asta removes the jacket, sets the cane to the side, and rolls up his sleeves and ensures the suspenders are in perfect place while he faces the group that are just now starting to catch on.
“It’s of great recommendation that I suggest you lot leave. Now.” He starts to say, that smile still there as the group laughs, as if ready to turn their focus (and property destruction onto him.) With an almost adorable sigh, Asta tilts his head a little “ah well, you were warned.” And he shrugs so casually, stepping forward so as to shift into his fyrhund shift. It’s with snarling teeth and leaking lava through the joints of where the stone sits that Asta steps forward, smile precisely the same as it was in his more human form, a pause as if to say run!
And then the Ancient charges, barreling through the crowd, chomping down on a waving arm with very high disregard for the person it’s attached to.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
For Danta's part, he makes a very fine show of doing nothing at all in the face of this violence, which says a lot all by itself. It says that Astaroth is sanctioned to do whatever it is he's doing to those sailors; it says that the Maverick accepts - and is complicit - in the sort of behaviour that he's brought down into the Last Whisper. And, as Danta goes to help stand some chairs and tilt some tables back into place, it says that he'll deal with anyone bothering the Grounders in exactly the same way.
Or, well. Asta will.
"I think perhaps they have had enough," he calls eventually, trusting the other man to live up to his word when it comes to cleaning up after himself. In the meantime, Danta has gone to fetch his fellow Ancient's coat and cane, propping them against a chair (he has graciously taken a seat in the other one). Given that he's been helping to put a little coffee place back together again, he's also made a point of already ordering for them.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
Astaroth goes hard. Harder than he probably should, to be honest, given the fingers that are in his mouth that certainly don’t belong to the sailors anymore. It’s not his problem, seeing as he did give fair and clear warning.
At least this warning was heeded, and the panic through the group only serves to make Asta thrive more, ready to launch again the second that he has his opening —
”I think perhaps they have had enough” — cuts through his haze, and just as he told Dantalion he would, the fyrhund stays. Teeth tight in that snarl, an attack dog told to heel. The group vanishes as quickly as they destroyed the place, and Asta at least has a few souvenirs from it.
He watches them go, before he shifts into himself, collecting the three fingers he’d collected, a speck of blood at his collar that has him sighing as he sees his reflection in the mirror. He notices the space Danta has set up with his things and he moves to sit, setting down his trinkets, before collecting a napkin and dabbing at the blood spot, sleeves rolling up even higher now and revealing the very ends of scars that seem to go up his arms and shoulders. “I doubt they will be returning.” He comments, his free hand lifting one of the fingers and waggling it with an amused smirk.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"Not if they have any sense," Danta agrees with a sunny smile, already relaxing in his seat as Asta returns with his finger food. (Haha, get it? Do you?) And despite the obvious show of force, nothing about the Last Whisper seems to suggest that the shop owners are anything less than grateful; a sentiment that is echoed when a waitress brings out a black coffee for Danta and - of course - a hot chocolate for his colleague.
Granted, she's not all that thrilled at the waggling fingers, so she sets the drinks down and makes a swift exit, something that has Danta biting the inside of his cheek not to laugh. "You know how to make an impression," he drawls, his cold eyes dancing over scars he's never seen, resisting the urge to seize Asta's arm so he might explore for himself.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
