reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
Funnily enough, Danta, he’s used to hearing the random bonks against his door from patrons either too drunk to walk straight or couples paired up, unable to wait. This one doesn’t capture his attention until he hears the door begin to unlock over the crackle of the fire. Dark eyes slide to the door to see the Theocrat himself, dressed in finery that has his gaze lingering, before drifting up to see the murderous gleam in his face.
“And how did it go, darling?” He asks, leaning back in his chair to watch as Danta drinks the rest of his whiskey and inspects his designs. Looking back down to the pages themselves, Astaroth snorts, sliding the bladed one front and center. “This one can turn into a whip with blades. Far superior, wouldn’t you agree?” He leans forward to tap at the oak of the cane he currently has, before he smirks up his shoulder at the other man.
“And how did it go, darling?” He asks, leaning back in his chair to watch as Danta drinks the rest of his whiskey and inspects his designs. Looking back down to the pages themselves, Astaroth snorts, sliding the bladed one front and center. “This one can turn into a whip with blades. Far superior, wouldn’t you agree?” He leans forward to tap at the oak of the cane he currently has, before he smirks up his shoulder at the other man.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
