[SE] what a lunch of nonsense

The world's a little blurry,
or maybe it's my eyes,

Her familiarity with the Dusklight seems to grow more with every season, and Thal doesn't even need to look as she hangs her cloak on the hook. The clip of her heeled boots is just as confident as usual, and she cuts through the crowd with just as much ease. After all, it's hard to miss the Butcher in the bar, his antlers easy to spot. Even without his height, something about their friendship made it that much easier to pick him out. 

Slipping into the private booth with Asta, she props her head on the palm of her hand. The nails of her other hand tap eagerly against the wood of the table as she gives him a sharp grin of greeting. With no other preamble, she quirks an eyebrow. "So, what's on the menu today?" Obviously something that once had a heartbeat, but she can't deny that she'd love something extra to elevate the flavor profile. Her last hunt got interrupted anyways, and she's determined to push that experience forcibly from her head with good company.

the friends I've had to bury
they keep me up at night.

Thalassa

// day breaks sorrow //

The Dusklight at this time of day is warm and vibrant, bodies gathering and parting, clear lines form from tables to the bar and back again, with workers flitting around and filling in the in between. Everyone’s so far been on their best behavior, which is likely from the looming presence of the butcher in the corner of the private booth, back to the wall in the comfortable velveteen seat, arm draped against the back of the seat, surveying the events as they unfold.

At least, until he spots a familiar captain cutting through the crowds, spotting him from where he sits with the rest of the Dusklight in his view. She slips into the booth and he flashes her a sharp and welcoming smile. “A platter. I am unsure how close you are to your bloodlust so I had the cook ensure we had a variety.” He teases, leaning forward toward her with that same sharp grin. “Some raw, some rare, some a bit more toothsome. I believe we have pork, beef, elk, and echo shark on the menu this evening.” Folding his arms neatly in front of him on the table, he scans her briefly before casting a glance back out toward the Dusklight. “How was your trip here, darling?” He asks, his dark gaze skating back to her with ease.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

The world's a little blurry,
or maybe it's my eyes,

Her mouth waters at the list, a low hum of appreciation singing from her lips. "Mmm. Sounds delightful. I haven't had much of a chance to hunt recently, so the timing is perfect." Not that she'd ever say no to such a feast. And she's always happy to have an excuse to spend time with Asta.

The tapping of her fingers stutters for a second before resuming. The term of endearment rubs raw against the memory of the last person to call her that, and only the hint of a grimace tightens at the edge of her eyes. It makes her that much angrier to be pulled from the moment with Asta, reminded of bitterness and pain instead of the bond that she's come to love. She sharpens her grin a little more, willing the familiar warmth of friendship and rage to heat her mischievous gaze. "I nearly killed a man, but the trip was otherwise uneventful. Fair winds and following seas and all that jazz." Nothing that should surprise him. 

Eager to shift the topic, she tilts her head. "How are you? All healed up?" Even if he hadn't been wounded, Thal remembers that he'd taken quite the hit from the villi, and he'd looked more than a little tired when she'd dropped him off in Torchline.

the friends I've had to bury
they keep me up at night.

Thalassa

// day breaks sorrow //

“I am quite happy to provide, then.” He hums softly, his smile brightening to hear her answer. But he’s watching her as he speaks next and perhaps its because of how close they were, the butcher’s versed in being able to tell that something is off when the hint of a grimace blooms across her face.

Thinking for a split second that it’s his usage of the term again - with how long it had taken her to be comfortable with him saying it, he has half a mind to ask her when she places her mask back into place and tells him precisely what she’s been up to. “Oh ho, just another day, mm?”

He wants to latch onto her comment about nearly killing a man, but she bypasses it so quickly that his gaze flits to the bartender with a short nod, who soon provides a bottle of their favored Halovian whiskey and two glasses for the two of them to indulge as they wait for their meal to arrive. “Perfectly fine. There is a healer at Jack Tar that works wonders.” He sighs a little dramatically, in a dreamy-nostalgic fashion, before his smile sharpens. “I have felt something a bit different lately, like when one gets a new shift. I have yet to figure out what it is, however.” Bypassing that with a roll of his shoulder, the movement has the collar of his shirt moving, dark bruises of a collar of hickeys could be seen with the movement. “I cannot complain.” His smile is brighter when it’s aimed at her.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

The world's a little blurry,
or maybe it's my eyes,

As the waiter sets down the bottle, she gives Asta a pleased smile, loving to be spoiled in such a way. "Like any other," she agrees, reaching to remove the cork as he talks. Muscle memory makes it easy to pour the glasses without needing to focus, glancing up occasionally to give the Butcher her full attention, pondering at the information he shares as she slides his glass towards him. 

Thal's gaze wraps around his neck, spotting the darkness that has nothing to do with the lighting. Her grin is knowing and a bit wicked with delight. "Mmm. I'm sure you can't." She laughs something dark and teasing between friends, letting her eyes drag away as she lifts the glass to her curved lips. 

Taking a slow, appreciating sip of the whiskey, she tilts her head, her dark horns catching the light. "How do you usually figure out your new abilities?" It's more than just a curiosity question, having recently discovered her darting at an inconvenient moment in battle. Despite her attempts to hide it, Danta had astutely caught her surprise, and although she'd tried to play it off, she didn't think he'd bought it. At least he didn't poke fun or tease, even if it'd still wounded her pride to be caught so unaware. If Asta knew a better way, Thal was all ears.

the friends I've had to bury
they keep me up at night.

Thalassa

// day breaks sorrow //

His dark gaze flits down to the glasses as she fills them, waiting until the bottle is set down before he snags his own once she’s sliding it toward him. It’s her laugh and her knowing grin that he squints at next, though, amusement dancing in the warmth of his gaze. “What are you insinuating?” He teases her, lifting the glass after her to take his own sip, relishing in the deep, dark taste of the whiskey. Sweet, but not too sweet, a hint of spice, a hot honey to be devoured and feel lighter after.

“Usually I can feel as if something is off, then I typically go and test it.” He admits, his shark toothed smile aimed at her. “Safely, of course. One never knows what they may find.” He hums with an air of experience, a playful waggle of his brows, precisely when the first tray of meats arrive. This one is a pork spread, a rainbow in terms of doneness.

Snagging the sharp blade left behind, the butcher’s utilization of it is one that certainly leads credence to his nickname as he slices each portion in half, so that they all might have a piece of each one. “That is how you found me in the Climb in the Feirw shift.” He continues to explain, tearing his gaze away from the first set of delicious meats to peer at her.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

The world's a little blurry,
or maybe it's my eyes,

"You know exactly what I'm insinuating." Her laughter is shadows and secrets, unrestrained yet sequestered to the space between them, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can think of only one reason for your new necklace." She shoots him a wink, dangling her glass from her fingers. 

Thal lets him explain his careful and controlled process, humming in consideration of the methods. Her own had never been so gentle to appear, and when the meat comes to arrive in front of them, she trades her glass for a fork while he cuts. "So I guess I'm just special, tumbling into new abilities like potholes with a random stray thought." She aims a fanged grin back at him, knowing that they're both peculiarities to which few could compare. 

Hesitating only long enough for him to pull away from the last piece of pork, she stabs the rawest section, planning to move her way backwards across the platter. Her shoulders come in a shrug as she lifts the meat to her mouth. "Why don't you test it here? What's the worst that could happen?" Although as her fangs come around to bite the food, there's plenty of danger in her smile, not really caring if it got a little wild.

the friends I've had to bury
they keep me up at night.

Thalassa

// day breaks sorrow //

“Ha ha, very funny.” He teases, though the mischief lingers in his gaze in answer. “There is a matching one out there.” He assures her, as if she was asking about it - but not unlike an older brother might poke and prod a sibling, the information was something Thal very much hadn’t asked for. So he busies himself with the platter of beef that’s set in front of them, slicing them easily as she picks up the fork and explains her own process.

Snorting, because everyone figured them out in their own ways, the butcher’s head tilts slightly with amusement. “Quite special.” He winks, half tempted to stick his tongue out at her if it weren’t for the call of meat that has them both snagging a bite. Her suggestion of trying it out here, though, seemed both good and bad.

He wouldn’t want to frighten any newcomers, but for those that are regulars, perhaps it would reinforce the fact that he was a force to be reckoned with. It’s what lingers in his mind as he swallows down the bite. “Many dreadful things could happen. This feels.. Better, than most. Like an old skin.” Which could honestly be great or fucking awful, knowing the things he was capable of before he’d been stuck in stone.

But he takes a deep breath, setting his fork down and takes a decent sip of whiskey to steady himself. Bracing his elbows on the table and readjusting his posture, the butcher focuses his dark gaze on Thalassa’s face. “Alright, let us see.” The second the words pass his lips, the change is immediate. His shark-toothed smile grows impossibly wide, teeth becoming sharp and pinpointed not unlike the needle-length of an angler fish - rows upon rows fill his mouth, his eyes turn completely black, sclera and all, and the dark horns that have been nestled into his hair so carefully grow into multiple points, a heavy and long rack of tines, shining and slick with blood.

That isn’t all, though, the longer Thalassa looks at him, his face changes and flickers, between a skull with hollowed eyes and those too sharp teeth, the hollowed black hole of where his nose would be, before it’s back to that needle sharp grin. His fingers, settled on the table, grow in length and sharpness - ivory bone-like blood tipped claws extend out toward her, enough to tap a little ringing sound against the ceramic of the platter. And his voice, when it leaves him should seem so mundane, but it’s layered with a discomforting dissonant that seems to command attention. “Ah, this is it.”

It's one side of the butcher. The easier to swallow side. But the Butcher of Whitebrim in the flesh, nonetheless. One version of him the stories often recalled.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

The world's a little blurry,
or maybe it's my eyes,

Not unlike an obnoxious younger sister, Thal doesn't balk at the oversharing of information, leaning forward so he can see the teasing ammunition that lurks beneath the surface. "I'd expect nothing less." He'd have to do better than that if he wanted to make her yield in a competition, especially one involving salacious material. 

Even around the bite of meat, Thal sticks her tongue out at him, taking his playful tease as a gentle jibe. As she lets the bloody pork coat her tongue, she watches as he debates and decides about the risk associated with the new ability that lingers beneath his skin - or is his skin, she supposes. 

She's captivated by the transformation, her quiet amusement slowly stretching into a wickedly sharp grin with each passing second. Every one of his beautifully terrifying features is contorted into something more, the stuff of nightmares and horror stories that lived in the bags under people eyes and the empty air of their screams. From the too many tines and too sharp teeth to the blackened flickering eyes and bloodied ivory claws, she sees the real Butcher, and loves every inch of him. 

Whereas she finds his glamour unsettling, this fills her with delight, a thrill of satisfaction running down her spine and into the excited twitch of her tail. Nodding, she doesn't hide her enjoyment of the new magic, her fanged smirk wide enough to frighten. "Mmm. Oh yes. I like this very much." Even more so when she glances around, relishing the way people flinch from his image. A soft hush fills the room, the rowdy crowd finding great motivation to quiet their antics while the others sit in silent awe of the monster in their midst. Few could tear their eyes away, frozen in terror or stricken by shock while others dared not look for fear of attracting his attention. 

Thal did neither, leaning forward with a casual tilt to her head as she skewers another piece of meat from the platter where his claws rest. "If only you had a mirror so you could see what I do." She raises a suggestive eyebrow, a cunning tilt to her lips. If people think one of him is bad, how would they react to two?

the friends I've had to bury
they keep me up at night.

Thalassa

// day breaks sorrow //

Her happiness and excitement at seeing the change reminds him of Rayla when he’d first come into the power of Haunt, the promise of so much more terror to be drawn from those around. It’s bittersweet, in a way. The familiarity in the way he’s turned into a nightmare, sitting here so casually while the rest of the Dusklight hushes, stealing glances that he can absolutely see as his pupiless gaze glances over her shoulder.

“If you like this one, darling, you will definitely like the full forms.” He announces in that dissonant voice again, almost playful in the way a cat would play with its prey. The black of his eyes returns to her. It takes a few more moments before he’s started stuffing it away, first the claws melt away, the too sharp smile, the way his face looks akin to a skeletons in the right light (or shadow), then to the eyes that look more like bottomless pits. They return to the deep dark brown of the butcher’s gaze, watching her curiously, and the horns shrink – not to how they were, but larger. Extending out longer than he otherwise would keep them, but not nearly as long as it had been. His voice returns to normal as well, no longer with the uncanny dissonance.

All that’s left is the flicker of a shadow that appears behind him, eerily peering at Thalassa with an equally sharp smile cut through the block of shade. He reaches for the glass of whiskey, then, taking a long slow sip before setting it down and letting the low rumble of a laugh leave him. “I have seen it before. It was possibly my most used magic before I succumbed to my dashing gargoyle state.” Winking to her, he pokes a piece of the raw meat from the platter and lifts it to his lips, his sharp teeth taking a slice from it with incredible ease.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

The world's a little blurry,
or maybe it's my eyes,

"I can't wait to see them," she croons in a conspiratorial voice, very much planning to draw it out of them next time they're not in a building. Her curious nature makes her wonder if his voice will change more with the others. She likes how the clashing tones bring out the melodious aspects of his accent, clashing yet pleasant against her ears. 

Disappointment twinges her mouth as his forms melts away, a soft sigh escaping as she stabs another piece of meat. By the time she's eaten it and washed it down with a swig of whiskey, Asta is mostly back to himself, although she knows him well enough to spot the difference in his horns, winking at the shadow that smirks like a demon on his shoulder. 

She wouldn't have guessed that Asta had lost his strength enough to need time to recover what skills he'd once had, but she supposes that it makes sense. "So this isn't new for you then?" Thal asks it as she pears over the rim of her glass, savoring the delectable liquor that mixes with the pork taste. Leaning forward, she grins and props her chin on her fist to give him her undivided attention. "What other abilities did you have before rocking the statue fashion era?"

the friends I've had to bury
they keep me up at night.

Thalassa

// day breaks sorrow //

He has zero qualms with showing her, when the time comes. Perhaps even today once they’re done devouring all kinds of meats, content and happy. For now, though, some things fall back into old habits, the shadow on the wall grinning at Thalassa, even as she winks to it, it almost seems to shiver in delight. It remains a staunch watcher, a warning for those that may be considering doing something that would require the butcher’s attention.

Which leaves him perfectly capable of focusing on his company as he snags another piece of meat, downing it with ease when her question hits and his smile blooms devilishly across his face. “It is not.” He hums softly, before he tilts his head as he considers what he’d had and didn’t have. “Let us see… I had a molten tiger shift. Another magic called Statuesque.. mm, Bloodboon.” He lists them off before he shrugs his shoulders and peers at her curiously. “Things may change now with the new opportunities, such as the Feirw shift.” Only time would tell.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

The world's a little blurry,
or maybe it's my eyes,

Despite her attention on the dwindling meat before them, Thal is now hyperaware of the sentinel shadow on Asta's shoulder, her peripheral watching it curiously to see what else it might do. She doesn't let it detract from her focus on the Butcher, but she lets the awareness hover as she stabs the last piece of well-cooked pork. 

Her head tilts as if she's seeing a different side of Asta - which might be true with all the sleeping shifts and magics in the Ancient. "Fascinating." And her eyes tell him that she means more than just the abilities as she slips the last piece of meat between her fangs. Her lips quirk while the fat melts on her tongue, pointing the empty fork at him. "The Feirw shift fits you perfectly." At least the horns and the regal nature, although its teeth leave much to be desired. 

Setting down her utensil, Thal lifts her glass and lets the implications of 'new opportunities' bring forth her questions. "Do you think more shifts and abilities will slowly appear?" She leans forward, disguising the intensity of her interest between the sips of her whiskey. "Or that they have anything to do with the Void?"

the friends I've had to bury
they keep me up at night.

Thalassa

// day breaks sorrow //

It mostly watches, the grin cut into the shadow enough to twitch and widen, little slits for eyes staring at those that dare peek their way. Asta seems to ignore it, like he would a watchful companion, all while he plucks another piece of meat from the platter and devours it with surprising ease. Swallowing the bite down, the butcher flashes a smirk to Thal, nodding his head. “I agree. We shall see how the rest of the seasons go, now that I have it.” He has a tendency of his shifts overcoming his senses in the best of times. It’s why his tail would wag like a dog’s, the way he seems stationary and watchful like his lial shift might.

Taking a sip of his drink shortly after she does, it’s with a tilt of his head that he leans over and meets her part of the way over the table. “Perhaps. Bolstering us for whatever comes next.” The shadow and Astaroth’s dark gaze flits to scan Thalassa, realizing that he can’t see the purple hue that envelopes her, stuck with just the words Flora had uttered.

Not that he doesn’t trust Flora - because he does, entirely - but it made it that much more difficult to ensure Thalassa’s safety in regards to the Void and how close to the Family she has become. “What do you think about it, darling?” He asks, heavy horned head tilting as he flashes her a shark-toothed grin.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //