// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
The strike lands and Astaroth’s own bloodlust suddenly sparks to life, turning the gentleman into far more of a feral kind of beast. He pulls himself up the second the man collapses into the snow and Charlie’s already on him, her shrug and words sparking a deep and darker laugh from the butcher. As such, from where the man tries to turn over, sputtering, Astaroth rises like a horned, devilish shadow behind Charlie.
“We do quite appreciate the sacrifice, regardless.” He drawls in a throatier, deeper accented tone as that sharp grin comes into view, reaching to pin the man’s shoulders down to keep him on his back, straddling him to pin him and keep him from twisting back over. It gives him a moment to try and decide where they should start – reflecting on trying not to rush through it. It’s only been himself since he’s woken from his sleep. So meticulously, the butcher decides in the moment to slip the dagger out of his boot, pressing the blade up against the man’s chin, lifting his head as if to inspect, leaving a small cut along his chin for the trouble.
Then, after another heartbeat of a decision, Astaroth starts utilizing the blade to cut along the collarbones and down the man’s chest, like a crude field autopsy, peeling away the clothes that are sliced through as copper fills the air.
“We do quite appreciate the sacrifice, regardless.” He drawls in a throatier, deeper accented tone as that sharp grin comes into view, reaching to pin the man’s shoulders down to keep him on his back, straddling him to pin him and keep him from twisting back over. It gives him a moment to try and decide where they should start – reflecting on trying not to rush through it. It’s only been himself since he’s woken from his sleep. So meticulously, the butcher decides in the moment to slip the dagger out of his boot, pressing the blade up against the man’s chin, lifting his head as if to inspect, leaving a small cut along his chin for the trouble.
Then, after another heartbeat of a decision, Astaroth starts utilizing the blade to cut along the collarbones and down the man’s chest, like a crude field autopsy, peeling away the clothes that are sliced through as copper fills the air.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
