// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
“I agree wholeheartedly, my dear.” Astaroth chimes to her, fully content and comfortable now with the full sensation in his stomach and the taste lingering in his mouth. One that he hums with content as he tilts his head toward her with a knowing look and a wink over the place – remembering to point it out the closer they get to the Dusklight. It’s in the Inner Quarter, after all.
He offers his options while she considers them, and with the confirmation of this is the plan, Astaroth utilizes a few moments of time to hack the body into more moveable pieces, shrugging out of his jacket and cleans up the majority of his hands within the snow, biting the inside of his cheek against the sharp burn of the cold of it but worrying little for how pink they turn with the promise of fire.
“I trust you, darling.” Once the body is collected in the jacket, each piece accounted for, Astaroth moves to stand once the suit is tied off to keep all the parts hidden. Opening the first few buttons of his shirt to keep the blood along his neck from ruining more of it, he waits for her to start the flame, delicately maneuvering himself within it (and utilizing some of his own to dry off the blood until it flakes away into nothing), before he starts to help her clean up in turn.
He offers his options while she considers them, and with the confirmation of this is the plan, Astaroth utilizes a few moments of time to hack the body into more moveable pieces, shrugging out of his jacket and cleans up the majority of his hands within the snow, biting the inside of his cheek against the sharp burn of the cold of it but worrying little for how pink they turn with the promise of fire.
“I trust you, darling.” Once the body is collected in the jacket, each piece accounted for, Astaroth moves to stand once the suit is tied off to keep all the parts hidden. Opening the first few buttons of his shirt to keep the blood along his neck from ruining more of it, he waits for her to start the flame, delicately maneuvering himself within it (and utilizing some of his own to dry off the blood until it flakes away into nothing), before he starts to help her clean up in turn.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
