(SE) and oh my weary soul

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Astaroth’s gaze glitters with agreement over the fact that the both of them are invested in this shrine – truthfully, anything beat the trek to the Black Lake as far as Astaroth was concerned. Having the shrine closer simply meant a much easier time spreading all of their dark adoration for their lady. So, still just as pleased with the obsidian they’ve found, Astaroth trots off to retrieve the cart.

Returning, he finds Danta crouched beside the obsidian, a snort slipping past his lips as he rolls his eyes. “At the very least, it’s both of us and our lanky appendages rather than just one, hmm?” He drawls, pausing for a moment to ensure the sleeves of his shirt are aptly rolled up before he starts to reach for the obsidian slab, nodding to the Maverick with an exhale of “ready,” before the two of them hoist the heavy obsidian, managing to lift it up enough to get Danta’s edge onto the side of the cart while the Butcher starts to try to carefully try to position it to slide it so that it won’t break falling into the cart. “Darling, can you move it a bit to your left?” He asks, muscles flexing as he keeps his side where it is so that they might be able to rotate the slide.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////