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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
the fire can't touch me for I have burned too many times
If she counted that as a point, he was going to count the subsequent ridiculousness, as spear snagged shirts. He nearly laughed again at the reaction, flailing, and off-balance proportions, reminded of prior training long, long ago when they were all fumbling, bumbling, stumbling messes.
Except he’d long since outgrown those tendencies, and so kept a firm hold on the spear, earning her nothing but a flat look at her flailing, muscles firm and unyielding. Thereafter, in quick, swift succession, he moved the spear downward, intending to break any touch of the sword upon its parameters, and subsequently, hopefully, drive wooden, training portions into her hip.
the sea can't harm me for I have been drowning all my life
It's almost a satisfying sound, the way her shirt rips, but Evie is too busy laugh-shrieking as she unsuccessfully batters his weapon with her sword. With it being in the hand closest to the spear, it's an incredibly awkward angle, and sure enough the side of it smacks firmly into her hip.
Disengaging and spinning away leaves the side of her shirt split straight down the seam, and the breeze on her waist is readily apparent even if it's not cold. "Okay, I know you're at three and I'm at two, but I think this warrants a pause if anything," the Evergreen huffs, amusement clear in her wryly smiling face. "This isn't strip-sparring after all." Waiting to see if he'd agree first, Evie leaves her weapon pointed to the ground, heart rate still elevated and body warm with movement and exercise.
a golden cage, for all its worth and beauty is still just a cage
the fire can't touch me for I have burned too many times
In ordinary circumstances, he might have tried to take the polite route and not laugh at the situation, but it was so ridiculous that he couldn’t quite help himself. No sooner had her shirt ripped and tore, sadly breezing along, did a muffled snort rallied through his chest before it strangled through his vocals. “I will count it as my win then,” he teased, snagging at their coats nearby, handing hers over as he went to place his weapon back amidst the armaments. “For now.” There would always be other moments to pick the spar up again – and he’d probably hold it over her head until later anyway.
From there, they could dissipate back into dinners and LongNight decisions, more experience gained and fused.
[FIN]
the sea can't harm me for I have been drowning all my life
