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
Snorting in response to the way that Danta seems to read his mind, Astaroth nods his head, feeling the weight of the braid behind the sharp tines of his horn as he explains more about the place he hails from. And honestly, he doesn’t expect Danta to bring up such good points, so much so that it has Astaroth’s chuckle rumbling from his chest. “You could choose to become fodder if you were tired of scouting.” He explains before running through the other potentials. “And it often went in cycles. I just happened to be brought up in the timeframe they culled.” Bouncing a dark brow, he shrugs lightly. “It was supposedly an honor.” But Astaroth, having never been interested in sex to begin with, would have certainly been devoured the first time he ever made an attempt, with how cutthroat the matriarchs were of his home.
But ah, things had changed, and they had eaten themselves to extinction, left a void where other cannibal clans came in, claiming to be from Whitebrim all the same.
By that time, Astaroth had long been changed, granted new identity, and never stepped a foot back into a snowy tundra to see what became of his family.
Warm hands chase away the chill as mischief floods in, however, and Astaroth braces his elbows on either side of the Maverick, humming a note as he parts from the kiss and hears the answer. And it’s easily bypassed in favor for the look and the nudge the blonde starts to press him with, that the grin spreads across his face with a huff of a laugh and a dramatic roll of his eyes. “That is what they called me, because when I was brought to Dygra I could not speak. And by the time my voice returned and I had completely healed and gotten used to this new body, well.. Everyone had spent so long calling me Astaroth that it felt wrong to return to the name that had led me to the fate of gore crows in the first place.” A changed body, a new life, a new identity.
He drops suddenly onto the Theocrats chest, as if pouting, arms looping around the other man’s neck. “Now I do not wish to tell you.” He drawls, throwing every inch of his Whitebrim accent on display, a deeper and more suave sounding tone. “You might torment me with my secrets.” He whines out, dark gaze peering up at him from where he’s propped up against the blonde’s sternum.
But ah, things had changed, and they had eaten themselves to extinction, left a void where other cannibal clans came in, claiming to be from Whitebrim all the same.
By that time, Astaroth had long been changed, granted new identity, and never stepped a foot back into a snowy tundra to see what became of his family.
Warm hands chase away the chill as mischief floods in, however, and Astaroth braces his elbows on either side of the Maverick, humming a note as he parts from the kiss and hears the answer. And it’s easily bypassed in favor for the look and the nudge the blonde starts to press him with, that the grin spreads across his face with a huff of a laugh and a dramatic roll of his eyes. “That is what they called me, because when I was brought to Dygra I could not speak. And by the time my voice returned and I had completely healed and gotten used to this new body, well.. Everyone had spent so long calling me Astaroth that it felt wrong to return to the name that had led me to the fate of gore crows in the first place.” A changed body, a new life, a new identity.
He drops suddenly onto the Theocrats chest, as if pouting, arms looping around the other man’s neck. “Now I do not wish to tell you.” He drawls, throwing every inch of his Whitebrim accent on display, a deeper and more suave sounding tone. “You might torment me with my secrets.” He whines out, dark gaze peering up at him from where he’s propped up against the blonde’s sternum.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
