/// forgive me father, for i have sinned
and as i kneel here now,
and as i kneel here now,
Unfortunately, they appear to be meeting at an impasse when it comes to trying to guestimate what the other is thinking. Astaroth can’t glean anything from her pale face, nor does his own older one harbor any insights. But he is patient, and he’s a good listener, and he hums thoughtfully as she lays out her worries and fears.
Truthfully, they’re all still working on getting powerful again – Danta and himself having lost much of their strength from their time sleeping in stone. When it comes to cages, though, he can assure Maea of one thing. “The last thing Danta would want to be stuck in, is a cage.” And he thinks that the Maverick cares about this region and its wanton group of Ancients that he’d work to ensure that it wouldn’t become another terrible situation. They both have had enough of those for their lifetimes.
As for his preferences, though, as she grows nosy, he hums a little and reaches into the flame to push around a piece that hasn’t picked up a good burn or char yet, debating how to put it nicely. “I hail from a very old, now nonexistent, tribe of cannibals.” Blunt is probably best, and he remains sitting where she might not feel so threatened with the news. “But don’t worry, I’m quite polite about it, and no I won’t be sampling anyone in the Grounds that doesn’t deserve it.” But that rowdy group that he’d had to push forcefully out of the Last Whisper a few weeks ago? He definitely deserved the hand he’d gotten from that adventure. Now they’d think twice.
“I had a bloodlust from before I was even turned. My upbringing, as I’m sure you can imagine, thrived off of it.” And taught him absolutely zero manners, resulting in his arrival to the Climb.
Truthfully, they’re all still working on getting powerful again – Danta and himself having lost much of their strength from their time sleeping in stone. When it comes to cages, though, he can assure Maea of one thing. “The last thing Danta would want to be stuck in, is a cage.” And he thinks that the Maverick cares about this region and its wanton group of Ancients that he’d work to ensure that it wouldn’t become another terrible situation. They both have had enough of those for their lifetimes.
As for his preferences, though, as she grows nosy, he hums a little and reaches into the flame to push around a piece that hasn’t picked up a good burn or char yet, debating how to put it nicely. “I hail from a very old, now nonexistent, tribe of cannibals.” Blunt is probably best, and he remains sitting where she might not feel so threatened with the news. “But don’t worry, I’m quite polite about it, and no I won’t be sampling anyone in the Grounds that doesn’t deserve it.” But that rowdy group that he’d had to push forcefully out of the Last Whisper a few weeks ago? He definitely deserved the hand he’d gotten from that adventure. Now they’d think twice.
“I had a bloodlust from before I was even turned. My upbringing, as I’m sure you can imagine, thrived off of it.” And taught him absolutely zero manners, resulting in his arrival to the Climb.
Astaroth
hands red with blood,
i know deep down, that i'll do it again ///
i know deep down, that i'll do it again ///
