// with our one foot in the grave //
He doesn’t chase her, instead he lets his words either land or fall on deaf ears, and the only semblance he has of the fact she’s still there is when he strikes a nerve. One that isn’t met on his side to the same degree. Calm, cool, and collected, alone in the cavern of jewels and magma, he finds a particularly pink topaz that he plucks and adds to the collection of stones in his pocket, before figuring out just how to respond to the other woman, hearing the clear devolving that occurs.
“You have helped. In the positions your leader has asked of you in order to do just so, have you not?” It was where they first met, after all. When she had arrived as a pale gore crow to spread the stones to keep the void out and Danta had to ensure the butcher didn’t try to crawl out of his own skin.
She continued and clearly has devolved now, and without much point of Astaroth continue this trek that she had invited him on, he starts to make his way back up the tunnel, chasing after her voice. In the dark of it, illuminated by the orange and red hues of the magma veins, Astaroth clears his throat as he seeks her out as a spidery, dark shadow. “The irony in that, darling, is that is exactly what you and this new society have asked me to do. I cannot fully be who I am.” A pause as his voice echoes off the cavern and he seeks her out. “I have made my sacrifices to appease others' comforts. Perchance you should consider it. Time, and place, have as much to do with the battle as the battle itself.” He clearly knows he isn’t strong enough to say haha I’m going to do whatever I want. So it isn’t a battle he picks.
He does it silently. Quietly. A monster in the middle of the night on occasions that cannot be tracked, and during the day a gentleman with nobody except the Maverick, and Charlie perhaps, none the wiser.
“You have helped. In the positions your leader has asked of you in order to do just so, have you not?” It was where they first met, after all. When she had arrived as a pale gore crow to spread the stones to keep the void out and Danta had to ensure the butcher didn’t try to crawl out of his own skin.
She continued and clearly has devolved now, and without much point of Astaroth continue this trek that she had invited him on, he starts to make his way back up the tunnel, chasing after her voice. In the dark of it, illuminated by the orange and red hues of the magma veins, Astaroth clears his throat as he seeks her out as a spidery, dark shadow. “The irony in that, darling, is that is exactly what you and this new society have asked me to do. I cannot fully be who I am.” A pause as his voice echoes off the cavern and he seeks her out. “I have made my sacrifices to appease others' comforts. Perchance you should consider it. Time, and place, have as much to do with the battle as the battle itself.” He clearly knows he isn’t strong enough to say haha I’m going to do whatever I want. So it isn’t a battle he picks.
He does it silently. Quietly. A monster in the middle of the night on occasions that cannot be tracked, and during the day a gentleman with nobody except the Maverick, and Charlie perhaps, none the wiser.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
