// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
“I will shift my research into the Climb to see what people know and what they don’t.” He assures her, already filtering it in his mind to try and see what they could and couldn’t get away with. And while he may not indulge in the orgies that Charlie has so very much promised, he certainly does indulge in the blood and feral hunts of it all. And who knows, perhaps if he’s sated enough by it, he could be convinced to try it. Or maybe the muzzle Danta had gifted him may come into good use.
Ahem, anyway. “Days of travel to get groups of four or five into the mouth of the Climb where the rest laid in wait. It was nearly torture.” He drawls with an accented, high pitched whine, before he shakes his head, dark hair falling from where it had been so carefully combed back around his horn to fall into his bloodsoaked face when he flashes her a grin.
As for both, well, Astaroth’s grin brightens and he straightens a bit, pausing with the warm blood cupped in his hands before he hums a thoughtful sound. His jacket is already ruined, where was the harm in the ruining it further? The cup of blood in his hands lifts to coat the outside and up against his neck like a scarlet turtleneck. “I know just the place.” A gift for her that he mulls over (because as I’m finding out, Astaroth’s love language is gift giving and he imparts it onto everyone he cares about).
“We can wrap it within my coat if we can get cleaned up in the meantime? Perhaps that fire of yours can be of use.” It had helped them immensely to get here, and with the inside of Astaroth’s coat free from a majority of blood, it would likely do wonders to keep it hidden away for the items within. They would just need to hack and fold him into smaller portions.
Ahem, anyway. “Days of travel to get groups of four or five into the mouth of the Climb where the rest laid in wait. It was nearly torture.” He drawls with an accented, high pitched whine, before he shakes his head, dark hair falling from where it had been so carefully combed back around his horn to fall into his bloodsoaked face when he flashes her a grin.
As for both, well, Astaroth’s grin brightens and he straightens a bit, pausing with the warm blood cupped in his hands before he hums a thoughtful sound. His jacket is already ruined, where was the harm in the ruining it further? The cup of blood in his hands lifts to coat the outside and up against his neck like a scarlet turtleneck. “I know just the place.” A gift for her that he mulls over (because as I’m finding out, Astaroth’s love language is gift giving and he imparts it onto everyone he cares about).
“We can wrap it within my coat if we can get cleaned up in the meantime? Perhaps that fire of yours can be of use.” It had helped them immensely to get here, and with the inside of Astaroth’s coat free from a majority of blood, it would likely do wonders to keep it hidden away for the items within. They would just need to hack and fold him into smaller portions.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
