black licorice

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

She’s truly a delight, Astaroth decides once again, as the heat is offered from the flame she’d conjured to get here, relieved when they step inside the Atheneum where the snow can’t reach them anymore. As such, he drifts toward the back with her, chatting idly about their history, before finding a space all to themselves amongst a few dusty rows as he sheds his outer coat, leaving him in a fine dark red vest.

“I was asleep too, unfortunately.” He hums with a sad twist to his sharp toothed smile, shrugging a shoulder as if to say it is what it is, but it’s also partially why he’s trying to figure it out now. And she’s more than willing to help, which has his smile broadening a little, a low chuckle leaving him as he inclines his head toward her. “You are wonderful, darling.”

As for how long he’d been asleep for, he clicks his tongue as he tries to pinpoint just what time he’d fallen into his slumber. “Mm, it was before the cataclysm, though I am unsure how long before that. At least over three hundred years.” He doesn’t know how long the years had gone on in his slumber before the cataclysm hit, but he does know it’s 317 at the present moment.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //