i think i found a new addiction

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

Everything had gone essentially according to plan – at least when it came to his quest (and not the recent events that had him accidentally dislocating Danta’s arm), and so the butcher finds himself drifting into the warm, familiar Temple, items in hand. A bag of the pieces of the blade in hues of bronze and silver – lowkey enough to not be too flashy, but with accents to make it that much fancier, the butcher’s outfit is a touch fancier to make it seem less out of place.

Which had been the entire point of why he’d picked the materials, wasn’t it?

To the shrine, the butcher goes, opening the bag and pouring out the bladed pieces of varying hues, all bathed in now dried blood, spread out on the half pristine, half chaotic windswept shrine before he adds a touch of his own to the mix. His head bows, the pad of his thumb pressed against one of the sharp edges of the bladed piece, before he lifts his hand to drip the blood along the altar. “Dearest Dygra, I have finished what you asked of me.” Comes the accented rumble, horned head bowed in wait while the candlelight around him flickers warm and contently.

---

Completing the quest received here! to receive this:

Threaded Cane | A metal walking cane which, at the press of a button, breaks into conjoined shards to form a serrated whip. The range of the whip is 10ft. Should the cane be used as a weapon on its own, it will only ever do Basic damage.

• Complete a thread mining ore from The Climb in a metal of his choice. This will form the body of the cane.
  ― go home, lie down, decompose
  
• Complete a thread smelting and smithing the ore into small, bladed pieces. (He can do this himself or visit a blacksmith to do it for him).
  ― [o] you watched me burn
  
• Complete a thread killing something and bathing the metal pieces in the blood.
  ― bang bang bang
  
• Complete a training thread using a whip.
  ― [Training] resilient again
  

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

Dygra

Heat ripples through the air, pulsing like a heartbeat through the ruby and obsidian and sizzling in the blood that Astaroth spills across the altar. "I never had a doubt, sweet, dark boy," Dygra purrs, her decadent voice rumbling throughout the shrine and right down into the marrow of Asta's bones. "What wonderful blades you have crafted here." As she speaks, as her words and phantom presence caresses the butcher's face and body, the pieces of razor sharp metal rise into the air over the altar.

"Let's see..." Something dark and molten weaves between the pieces, a thread connecting them that cements itself into place with a brief crackle of power. The serrated whip twists and curls, as if testing its own flexibility, before it neatly snaps into place as a perfect, solid cane, hovering before Asta for him to take. "I think this will suit your purposes nicely."

---

Asta has completed his quest and has received the following:

Threaded Cane | A metal walking cane which, at the press of a button, breaks into conjoined shards to form a serrated whip. The range of the whip is 10ft. Should the cane be used as a weapon on its own, it will only ever do Basic damage.

Table coding by Sky <3

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

Heat blooms through the air, sizzling in the blood on the obsidian altar and Astaroth straightens up quite contently and excitedly, practically beaming a grin into the warm voice that greets him. “It was a unique learning experience.” Because he’d had help from the local blacksmith, but he’d done it himself – put in the sweat and hard work to make the multicolored blades of varying materials. One that when put together would look sharp and brilliant, he’s sure.

Not that it takes too long to find out as Astaroth – despite not having a feline shift – becomes very much cat like in the phantom caress against his face and body (because when it comes down to it, Dygra was the first one to truly heal and forge the butcher’s body, and for her he is always reciprocative). Dark eyes are bright with the warmth of the candleflame as he watches the metal rise into the air, as something dark and beautiful weaves in between the pieces, testing its flexibility in glimmering reflections of the bladed portions, reflecting the light across the room of the shrine before it snaps together and hovers for him to take.

And he very gladly does, reaching up to take it as he bows his head in a touch of awe – never once has the butcher had such a finely crafted cane. And he fully intends to covet it as his most prized possession. “It is more than I could have ever fathomed.” He begins, gratitude pouring into his accented tone, his shark toothed grin aimed toward the all-encompassing presence of his goddess. “Thank you.” He takes a moment to lower the cane toward himself, inspecting the bladed portion fitted so neatly together that it’s smooth and slick when he runs the pad of a finger across the flat portion, before he’s setting it down to test it as a cane. Sturdy and sharp, equally threatening as it is stunning, the butcher seeks out the button to press it and feel as it shifts – becoming a tool of a different kind. It grows slack and scrapes against the floor like a snake, his wrist flicking in a practiced movement that has it slithering through, the bladed portions clinking against each other sharply and menacingly as he watches each portion stretch then come together, glinting darkly in the light.

A low chuckle leaves him of pure, dark delight. “Yes, this is exquisite.”

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness