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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.
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Glad to hear that she has found something, the butcher’s shoulders slump a little. As if proving to himself they won’t need to do this again. His dark gaze drifts back toward her as she asks if he’s okay, bloodied lips parting to tell her that he was fine, before he realizes he likely isn’t.
And if anyone could understand, it was her. Though it doesn’t stop him from feeling awful for unloading on her. “It didn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.” His accent is thicker, grittier, rougher as it pours over the words and he frowns, tugging new lines into his face that weren’t there before.
He nods to the offer, though, standing and straightening out. “I would like that, thank you.” He murmurs softly, straightening the cane out so the end clacks against the rock of the lava pits, before he offers his arm out for her to help her off the rock.
Humming out a sigh and nodding gently, Isla gives them the benefit of silence to let Asta's words settle, along with the feelings that likely accompany them. Taking his arm to get herself properly upright, she leaves them loosely linked as they begin to walk back away from the Lava Pits and the abandoned nests of gore crows, the Remedy glancing up at him to speak at last. "It might feel better in a few days," she suggests slowly. "Once you can look back on it with a clear head."
Once the shock and trauma of it have had a chance to fade. "And if nothing else, you've sated your bloodlust for a little bit. So that's always going to help." Offering him a gentle smile, she gives him a little nudge as they walk. "You mentioned getting me a gift, for coming to help you out here? I hope you know already that I would never accept anything for this, but there is something you could do."
Grinning, Isla doesn't leave him in suspense for long. "Come and visit me in Torchline, when you next get the chance. There's a new teahouse I want to try."
Helping her off the slab of volcanic rock, the butcher straightens up once he’s sure she’s settled to hear her answer, latching onto the words more than he likely would have otherwise. At the best of times, Astaroth was nothing more than a stubborn man, but right now? Feeling as close to jagged glass as he does? Well, he’s more willing to let the ideas settle before immediately brushing them off.
So he nods, seeing her gentle smile and feeling her soft nudge, trying for a smile of his own against the drying of blood against his lips and beard. “I suppose it will keep me less on edge.” He mutters, heaving a soft sigh as they carve their path back toward the portal. He listens, too, to the option of what kind of gift to give her, smiling affectionately over toward the Remedy.
“I would love that, darling.” He murmurs, making the mental note of gifting her with a day full of whatever she wished to do. It was the least he could do, and if he benefitted from it as well, who was he to complain? "Thank you."
