Astaroth
// i ride the edge, my speed goes in the red //
He remains in that position on the ground, unable to move as his chest heaves for air, his gaze deadened and hollow when she shifts back. His own mouth is painted with blood, both hers and his, but it’s the bruising that’s done most of the damage to him in soreness of keeping him precisely where he is. The bruising and the exhaustion where his body quite literally gave up. It’s such an uncomfortable sensation, reminded of his prone position in the Climb, but at least he doesn’t spot ink black feathers in the peripherals of his vision. That’s one perk.
“You made it clear I wasn’t your friend.” He grits out, pushing through the pain again before he finds a surge of energy to open himself up just enough to get a trembling arm underneath him – mostly just to spit out more blood and spit. The other elbow comes up and his head sinks between both of his arms, the prongs of his horns digging into the earth to keep him upright enough to take those short breaths against the pain. “That I’m some monster that you cannot be associated with, who’s carefree and glad to do what he does.” He pauses to cough a bit of blood, stubbornly spitting it onto the earth beneath him again. “Fucking hell, Maea. I’m used to being alone. I wanted to be alone.” Voice cracking and growing hoarser as it starts to whine into a whisper of hurt, Astaroth grits his teeth and shuts his eyes, hands forming fists pressed into the earth.
“You made it clear I wasn’t your friend.” He grits out, pushing through the pain again before he finds a surge of energy to open himself up just enough to get a trembling arm underneath him – mostly just to spit out more blood and spit. The other elbow comes up and his head sinks between both of his arms, the prongs of his horns digging into the earth to keep him upright enough to take those short breaths against the pain. “That I’m some monster that you cannot be associated with, who’s carefree and glad to do what he does.” He pauses to cough a bit of blood, stubbornly spitting it onto the earth beneath him again. “Fucking hell, Maea. I’m used to being alone. I wanted to be alone.” Voice cracking and growing hoarser as it starts to whine into a whisper of hurt, Astaroth grits his teeth and shuts his eyes, hands forming fists pressed into the earth.
// hot blood, these veins, my pleasure is their pain //
