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pool the knowledge - Thalassa - 01-26-2026
The Atheneum is not a place Thal likes to 'hang out,' but it's the only place with the list of books Asta had requested they search. She's already found the section on historical traditions, although it proves to be in the most inconvenient of locations for her. It's at least a foot above where she can reach naturally, and for the moment, she throws daggered stares at the spines of dusty books as if they can be threatened down.
Tucked into a dark corner of the building, little light and fewer people walk this way - not that she'd bother to ask for help anyways, but there's no one to snap at for the oversight on accessibility, no one to command into submission so she can procure the tomes. Instead, she tilts her head to assess the sturdiness of the shelves, her eyes catching momentarily on the blonde strands of hair she hasn't quite gotten used to. They curl softly around her features in a stark contrast to the darkness of her horns and clothes, a beacon of light that somehow makes her look younger and more striking in a way she's not sure she likes, accenting the dark bruising along her cheek (at least the swelling has gone down). Whereas people might have noticed the dangerous glint of her eyes first, they've been recently distracted by the platinum blonde hair that apparently gives them permission to talk to her, like she's somehow more friendly than before, however, the bandages across her arm and the rainbow of colors painting her face the last few days have certainly changed that.
Luckily, even without the wounds, they've quickly learned their mistake about talking to her, but Thal still has to wonder if her lack of approachability before had less to do with her demeanor and more to do with her minimal distinguishing features. But regardless of how 'approachable' people might think she is now, the back corner of the Atheneum is no place to test the theory, and when Asta finds her, Thal is perched skillfully on a shelf, her gauze wrapped arm straining stubbornly higher to reach for the first of the books, face twisting slightly when tension pulls at the stitches along her back.
RE: pool the knowledge - Astaroth - 02-09-2026
The Atheneum is precisely the place that Asta chose to venture to in order to try and get some research done. They hadn’t talked about the actual wedding just yet, too caught up in the freshly minted shine of the ring that sits on Danta’s finger back at the Dusklight. He’d promised not to be gone too long, but for the sake of research he thinks his fiancé will forgive him if he takes a little too long.
Slipping through the doors, the butcher’s decked out in his usual attire – a dark shirt with his sleeves rolled up, keeping those branded wrist scars on display and the bracelet that glints with the chrome-like black of gore crow feathers with the deep thrum of crimson blood interwoven in the fibers. A pale ivory and gold waistcoat adorns the rest of his person, hair swept back behind his antlers as he swans through the doors of the Atheneum, confidently knowing his way around the library’s rows.
He spots her perched on a shelf, trying to reach for a book in question and Asta lingers briefly. The helpers throughout have given her a wide berth – not that he’s surprised, but he imagines she’d be less inclined to give him a hard time as he steps up beside her, a shark tooth smile aimed her way as he reaches up to run his fingers across the spine of the book he thinks she’s going for. “[say]You are allowed to ask for help, Thalassa, dear.[/say]” The butcher hums, raising his brow in a silent question of whether that’s the one she’s searching for before he plucks the one she needs from the shelf to hand it to her.
RE: pool the knowledge - Thalassa - 02-09-2026
Meticulous fingers cross her vision, reaching farther than her own can to snag at the dusty spine of the book. She knows who it is before she turns, her lips quirking up as her arms lower to cross stubbornly at her chest, ignoring the pressure on her dressings. The book comes down with much less effort than she'd already expended, jealousy flashing for the briefest of moments before twisting into begrudging amusement. [say]"I prefer not having to ask. Works most of the time."[/say] And the cocky grin on her face seems to say, 'It worked on you.'
Her eyes burn like blue fire in the shadows, but it's not enough to distract from the colorful mottling of her cheek, the purple having dissipated to yellow and green. She unwraps her arms to pluck the book from his grasp, waving it for Asta to see the tattered edges and faded cover with gilded accents. [say]"This one looked the oldest. Figured it might be close to your age."[/say] Throwing him a playful wink, she taps the tomb against his white and gold waistcoat, her expression turning genuine and bright when she finally says, [say]"Congratulations."[/say]
RE: pool the knowledge - Astaroth - 02-09-2026
He does read between the lines, seeing the accomplishment take place mere seconds after the moments of jealousy he’d caught in her gaze. He takes it either way, a warm laugh leaving him, tail twitching this way and that with his amusement. “[say]Mhm. Well, it just so happens I know you quite well and I could have let you continue struggling.[/say]” To her cocky smirk, Asta flashes the captain a knowing, too sharp grin.
The smile stays perfectly in place even as she’d likely note the way his dark gaze — made black in the shadow — tracks the bruising on her face. It’s quickly noted and put away in precise timing to let her snatch the book from his clutches, snorting softly. “[say]Oh come now, darling, that is a low hanging branch. You can do better than that.[/say]” Though it does inspire another low hum of a laugh from him, the exasperation dramatized as his hand reaches for his heart to cover it and sigh wearily.
It’s an act that drops almost immediately upon her congratulations and the tap to his waistcoat, his tail flicking in delight. “[say]Thank you. I am admittedly glad that part is over.[/say]” Puffing out his cheeks as if the tension that had been there weeks ago could still find a way to get out, he twists toward the seating space, claiming another book or two as he steps over to the table to sit at, pulling a chair away from it for her before he sits in the one beside it. “[say]Dare I say you have an interesting style of makeup and hair today?[/say]” He knows her face isn’t makeup, he knows a healing bruise when he sees one, and he’s certain the last time they talked she’d not been blonde, but it leaves the floor open for her to answer if she wants to.
RE: pool the knowledge - Thalassa - 02-10-2026
Raising an eyebrow, Thal tilts her head up, humming a little note of victory. [say]"But you didn't,"[/say] she remarks, all self-satisfaction at having avoided the annoyance of asking. The book is in hand and her pride intact. All is right in the world.
Thal quirks an eyebrow at him, smug even as he criticizes her joke and tracks his eyes down her face. [say]"Why? It might be an oldie, but it's a goodie."[/say] Her grin sharpens, steel-coated and goading like any good friend, letting him take the subtle compliment if he wants to (he did just get engaged after all), but not drawing attention to it.
Lowering her arm, Thal follows him towards the table, a light chuckle on her lips. [say]"Right, because now onto the fun stuff, like reading books in dusty libraries and planning weddings."[/say] She rolls her eyes and pretends to gag, but the smile never really vanishes, her excitement for him overshadowing her distaste for paperwork or formal gatherings. And despite her words, you can bet your ass Thal will be at that wedding, putting in every effort not to drown in her own smile.
Not acknowledging the gentlemanly gesture, Thal settles sideways into the chair he pulls out and props her foot on the seat. Her elbow rests on her knee, the roughness of her positioning contrasting the soft curl of her lips, the warmth and happiness expressed towards him. [say]"You don't have to tell me all the sappy stuff,"[/say] her tone suggests that he not, [say]"but I pray it was everything you hoped for."[/say] Every word and every sentiment engraved on his soul.
Her delicate fingers flip open the book, pausing to preen sarcastically at his question - even tucking a strand of blond hair behind her horn so he can see the bruising a little better. [say]"You like it? It's a new style I'm trying out called 'losing bets and losing fights.'"[/say] Winking, her tone turns teasing. [say]"You should be familiar enough with the second one."[/say] He's shown up to their meetings beaten up and bruised more times than she can count, and other than a peek of bandages under the sleeve of her left arm, he can't even see the extent of her other injuries.
RE: pool the knowledge - Astaroth - 02-11-2026
He concedes the point, only because he’s sure any comment about taking pity on her whether playfully or not would probably not go over well and he has asked for her help – so he remains the gentleman, rolling his eyes and scoffing to her sharp grin, the goading one he doesn’t give into her – and if he’d had partially shifted ears you could bet they’d twitch downward with his playful annoyance.
Alas, he doesn’t, and instead makes his way toward a table amongst the Atheneum’s paper scented walls. “[say]Such a shame you must waste away here, no?[/say]” He shoots over at her once she pretends to gag, a warm laugh leaving him. Pulling her chair out for her before he sits in the other, his tail sweeps around to twitch by his heels as he pops open a book he’d snagged and peers at the first page. “[say]It was lovely. I could not have imagined a better night.[/say]” The butcher hums, pausing to look up at Thalassa with a softer twitch of his smile.
He lets his dark gaze remain on her as she answers his question, though, his smile turning to one more of amusement. “[say]Aha, no darling. I do not lose fights.[/say]” He purrs his arrogance. “[say]I may get hurt now and again but I am a winner.[/say]” He winks, his grin sharpening. “[say]So which were the bets?[/say]” He asks, shifting the subject as he flips a few pages into the book he’s currently going through, finding a brilliant fire themed flower bouquet that he takes notes on with the small journal he pulls from his pocket and a pen.
RE: pool the knowledge - Thalassa - 02-11-2026
[say]"The worst."[/say] She flashes her fangs like one might stick out their tongue, her eyes too bright to be annoyed with being stuck here, not when it's for Asta and his inevitable happiness. Perhaps she'd come to debate the point again later, when her brain is mush from the words drowning her vision and the insufferable quiet of the Atheneum.
Thal catches the softness of the smile, the sincerity in his joy and the love he holds for Danta. [say]"Good. I've heard rumors it only gets better."[/say] Does she believe that? Probably not. In her experience, it only leads to heartache and ruin, but she won't spoil her friend's hopes and dreams with her usual pessimism about love. After all, he'll be the exception, even if she has to make it so.
Raising an eyebrow that suggests she doesn't quite believe him, Thal shrugs a sarcastic shoulder, pretending like she might actually take Asta's earlier advice. [say]"Then maybe I should have enlisted your help for this one. Asshole turned into an ursur."[/say] She lets the fact fall flat as she lowers her gaze to the pages of her book, skimming the index for the section on 'love' or 'weddings.'
Not raising her eyes, Thal begins to flip through to a section called 'rituals' (weddings are like rituals, right?). [say]"It was more a game of truth or dare,"[/say] she clarifies nonchalantly. [say]"This"[/say] she snags a strand of pale blonde hair that falls into her face [say]"was because I refused to let a guy drag me around the bar by my tail."[/say] Just the memory of the thought sends a shiver down her spine, the nerves there quivering at the threat. As if it might still be in danger of being ripped from her body, her tail curls protectively around her leg.
Skimming the page, she finds the boring part breaking down the details of various traditional acts, including one that mentions 'binding love.' [say]"At least I got to keep my hair. Colt ended up bald."[/say] A cheshire grin slowly spreads across her face until Thal looks up at Asta, obviously pleased with her own outcome and the bit of chaos she'd sewn.
RE: pool the knowledge - Astaroth - 02-16-2026
“[say]Oh, is that so?[/say]” The butcher teases her compliment – because honestly, he hasn’t heard that either. But a part of him does find it amusing that she might be trying to make it so he doesn’t question it. He can’t imagine it getting worse for them, at least. They knew all there was to know about one another, so where could it truly go wrong?
As for the mention of the asshole that turned into an ursur, the butcher’s attention snaps up from the book he’s perusing to raise his dark brows at her in silent question. “[say]Ursurs are terrible.[/say]” He laments – he’d had to fight them quite a bit back when he’d lived in Halo. But that was ages ago and he hasn’t faced one since then, thankfully. He doesn’t envy her for that battle.
He returns to his perusing when she tells him that it wasn’t so much bets as it was a game of truth or dare and he can’t help the soft snort that passes from his nose, his head still angled down toward the book despite how his gaze lifts with curiosity. “[say]Oh, good choice darling.[/say]” The butcher praises with a warmer laugh. Blonde versus the embarrassment of being nothing more than a rat caught by its tail.
He can’t blame her for that one. For the other one, though, the butcher’s laugh grows a bit brighter and ends in a sigh. “[say]How mortifying. I could not even imagine.[/say]” It reminds him to not play that game with her, because the last thing he’d do is shave his hair off. Actually, the last thing he’d do is any alterations to his appearance at the end of the day.
Dropping his attention back to the book, he scribbles down a few notes before flipping through the pages again. “[say]So who ultimately won?[/say]” He asks, already assuming that Colt had lost based off of shaving her head.
RE: pool the knowledge - Thalassa - 02-16-2026
She doesn't look up from her book this time, humming a note of smug certainty that Asta's love will prevail in the end. He knows she won't let it end otherwise, so she lets the conversation shift to her confrontation with the beast who'd mauled her. Her eyes swirl with a dark, murderous energy that bores into the pages, flickering up briefly so Asta can appreciate the violence there. [say]"I wasn't using my full strength last time."[/say] She shakes her head, curious how they would stack up if she hadn't been limited by her quest restraints. Next time, she wouldn't have to hold back. Next time, that ursur would burn. And she'd happily eat every bite.
Embarrassment hadn't even been on her radar, the fear of having her tail ripped from her body being the more logical concern when presented with the dare, but she appreciates his approval nonetheless. A small smirk peeks around the book, still recalling the patchy shearing of blonde hair that had stuck up from Colt's head. At least the wig looks convincing enough, so Thal doesn't expect too much retribution, but she'll cherish that memory for a long time yet.
Chuckling a low and playful note, she glances momentarily to the Butcher, sure he'll understand when she says, [say]"Depends on who you ask, but I'd say we were both too drunk to declare a winner."[/say] They'd both been flayed emotionally and botched physically, and yet their laughter had echoed the streets when the night came to a close.
Her interest in the book is waning, the words dragging on about precise measures and abstract concepts of 'love' and 'devotion' that she doesn't much care for, but when she turns the page, her eyes widen slightly, a grin spreading across her face. [say]"Wow. This outfit would be quite the statement."[/say] Thal rotates the book for Asta to look at, the depiction of a woman in a stiff, high-collar monstrosity of layered fabrics staring out as she drips blood into a goblet. It's not her cup of tea, but there's no denying that it would be dramatic, and she'd expect nothing less from the men.
RE: pool the knowledge - Astaroth - 02-19-2026
He catches her gaze, the swirling edge of a sharp blade hidden within them that does call to him in a predator recognizing a fellow predator atmosphere. His lips twitch into an amused smile, hearing that she hadn’t used her full strength last time, limited either by personal reasons or something else, and the butcher simply inclines his head slightly as he drags a hand up through his hair to keep the long strands of black from falling into his face. “[say]Well, darling, I trust you know what to do next time, yes?[/say]” Full strength, full potential.
Aka, go hard or go home.
As for the blonde versus being bald, the butcher certainly prefers the blonde locks on Thalassa’s head – not that he’d say anything to her if she did have a bald head even if the attempts would be there. What he might consider to be a little playful banter might be a smidge too much for one of the few that appreciates Asta’s darker urges. So he snorts, conceding the point. “[say]Perfect, then that means you can claim victory.[/say]” Why not take the opportunity, right?
Dropping his attention back down to the books, he scans a few more pages, flips through a few more until she’s snagging his attention again and his dark gaze flits toward the book to spy the high-collared dress and appears to be dripping blood into a goblet. Intrigued, obviously, the butcher’s dark gaze almost lights up with recognition. “[say]Oh, now that is an idea.[/say]” He hums, scribbling it down on the small notebook with him, before he folds his arms across the pages of his book and leans in toward her. “[say]I am always looking for the most dramatic ideas for the after party.[/say]” He bounces his brows playfully, as if the answer of that goblet was a perfect addition.
RE: pool the knowledge - Thalassa - 02-19-2026
Fangs peer dangerously from her lips, an unspoken promise on their tips. Not even the blonde hair can soften the violence of her expression as she purrs, [say]"Absolutely."[/say] Full strength and full aggression. And whether he knows it or not, Asta would be the first to hear of her success.
She's skimming the pages again when he makes the suggestion, another low chuckle leaving her. There's a cocky tilt to her head, the swagger of an opportunistic pirate capitalizing on any inflation of reputation - no matter how minor. [say]"I guess so."[/say] Colt's not here to argue anyways, and Thal doesn't like losing.
Returning to the focus of his wedding and whatever information might assist, she presents him with the picture. She's unsurprised to see it inspire him, appreciating how very different their preferences are as she turns the book back to herself.
Mentally preparing herself to drudge back into the overwhelming sea of information, Thal perks to see Asta lean forward, obviously plotting something that's much more interesting than books. Her head props onto her fist, eye alight with mischief and intrigue. [say]"Oh? What did you have in mind?"[/say] If it's a hunt or fighting ring or something else, she'll gladly help coordinate, but anything more sophisticated than that would require a different set of skills than she possesses.
However, another person immediately comes to mind and Thal quirks a sharp smile that nears a conspiratorial wink. [say]"I'm sure Charlie already has a million ideas if you need any."[/say]
RE: pool the knowledge - Astaroth - 02-20-2026
Content that Thalassa might take him up on the offer of claiming she’d been the victor of the truth or dare they had played before, the butcher hums a soft laugh as he delves into looking at the image she pulls up in her book, scribbling down the notes of it – because it was certainly a lovely and fun idea that might terrify some of those in attendance – and Asta’s nothing if not wanting a story to remember.
As she leans in equally for his announcement, the glint of his gaze is sharp and bright despite the shadows the make his eyes appear nearly completely black in the dim lighting of the Atheneum. “[say]Over the top and gaudy should do well, I think.[/say]” He murmurs, even as Thalassa mentions Charlie. His grin widens and somehow looks sharper, a knowing look crossing over him as he hums a soft sound. “[say]Oh I am most positive she does.[/say]” She had coordinated Fox and Kiada’s wedding, after all. Blending the normalcy of people who weren’t inherently Ancient with a few Ancient ideals and happenstances.
But something tells him that he and Danta would have the official ceremony in the Climb, likely just as themselves and Dygra, which left the afterparty celebration to be full of debauchery and ostentatiousness. It’s something he can’t wait for, in all honesty. “[say]I imagine the Temple or the Dusklight may be suitable for it, though we have not decided yet.[/say]” And of course, theres the outfits for the celebration they have to gather ideas for as well.
RE: pool the knowledge - Thalassa - 02-20-2026
Her laughter is full and bright, a rare fondness in her voice as she says, [say]"I'd expect nothing less."[/say] Where she prefers darkness and subtlety, he's all drama and showmanship, and what's a wedding if not the biggest stage to proclaim his love and devotion? She'll help where she can, but unless he wants his celebration to look more like a funeral, Thal doesn't think she'll be a good assistant in that category.
Leaning back into her chair, her eyes drift back down to the book and the hours of research ahead. The Temple and the Dusklight are both good candidates, but Thal hums a note of consideration, adding her own thoughts. [say]"Depending on the chaos you have planned, you might even want to consider the Rage Room."[/say] A sharp mischief plays in her eyes, expecting that whatever plans Asta and Danta make will include a decent amount of blood and insanity that she vehemently approves of.
RE: pool the knowledge - Astaroth - 02-23-2026
It has been a consideration – the rage room, though he doesn’t know what Danta has planned for part of it. He does know he has the majority of the likelihood of sparking too much blood one way or another – but if they time it just right? The fountain may be completed by the time they do tie the knot, and a celebratory sip of healing cabernet would do swell.
“[say]I have thought about it, which means that I am leaning a touch more toward the Temple.[/say]” He admits with a soft laugh, straightening up as he flips a few more pages in the book before twisting it so that she can see. It’s a list of flowers by color, type, and usability. “[say]I am leaning toward some native flowers to the Climb, but what do you think about reds, oranges, yellows?[/say]” He asks, raising a brow toward her with a grin.