// with our one foot in the grave //
“You are incorrect.” Astaroth says bluntly, shrugging a shoulder as they stand within the cavern with further offshoots of tunnels to burrow beneath. “If you had not spoken up and instead played the part, there would have been no reason for her to make a threat.” Because he had heard, gossip spread fast within these parts. Her presence was a threat, sure, but one could work with threatening appearances versus the actual argument. It’s how Astaroth had been so great at his job in the past. “I don’t believe it was obvious, per say, but I cannot imagine trying to do something subtly without the potential chance she may appear.” Given the awful vox static that had blared through his head like alarms in the past, something seems to suggest that they can do quite a good amount of things.
And besides, who else is part of this Family that static ear sore had so kindly mentioned?
Either way, he ticks a nerve with her and he stands as she turns to face him, his dark gaze scanning her pale face, watching the fury that flares beneath it. “Then you will die.” He says casually, shrugging lightly again. “You think so little of knowing a time and place to have an even playing ground to fight on that you will take the first opportunity you receive to make a last stand?” He tsks, folding both of his hands on his cane. “As far as I have experienced, lay in wait, play the part, until you have your pieces in place.” He pauses, trying to think of the phrase that had ran through his head time and time again from his transformation into the gentleman he became. “I show you the stone in my hand, you miss the knife at your throat.” It isn’t giving up. It’s distraction.
And besides, who else is part of this Family that static ear sore had so kindly mentioned?
Either way, he ticks a nerve with her and he stands as she turns to face him, his dark gaze scanning her pale face, watching the fury that flares beneath it. “Then you will die.” He says casually, shrugging lightly again. “You think so little of knowing a time and place to have an even playing ground to fight on that you will take the first opportunity you receive to make a last stand?” He tsks, folding both of his hands on his cane. “As far as I have experienced, lay in wait, play the part, until you have your pieces in place.” He pauses, trying to think of the phrase that had ran through his head time and time again from his transformation into the gentleman he became. “I show you the stone in my hand, you miss the knife at your throat.” It isn’t giving up. It’s distraction.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
