Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
The smile faded from the fox-like man's face at the same rate as Asta's teeth were bared. Grimace or grin, it caused the person's expression to harden, and as the fire flared up next to him and his companions it was countered by barriers of water - revealing him to be Abandoned, and quite a skilled one at that. Getting tired of my own words
With deliberate slowness he rose, rolling his shoulders to limber them up.
"See, I would have been happy to settle this in a civilized manner," the red-haired one said, "but now you have threatened me. Can't have that, can we..."
Maea stiffened as she realized that this was escalating rather too quickly. The flare of magic was drawing attention from revelers around them; muttering worriedly they began pressing away from the small group, trying to make space in a room where breathing room had become a rare thing.
The tall woman had caught hold of the cane and tried to yank it out of Astaroth's grip, while a pair of daggers appeared in the hands of the tattooed guy. Clearly they were not beyond making a scene or getting others caught up in their trouble, and a sense of nauseous tension came over Maea; guilt that all of this was happening because of her. Because she hadn't been able to fight back when it counted.
"Asta," she murmured anxiously, patting his arm to try and catch his attention. "Asta, not here..." Though how they would make these people leave without a fight was beyond her.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
