so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats
Brows lifting again as a chuckle escapes him, Astaroth nods his head in agreement. “How unique. You must show me your new shifts when we’re done.” If there’s a hint of a demand in there, the butcher pretends it doesn’t exist. Instead, it’s drown out by his excitement.
She does her twirl and Astaroth beams at her, sharp toothed and quite pleased to hear that the tailor has been helping out. “He is quite a mastermind.” Given that the butcher harbored so much height, it made it difficult to alter pieces at times to accommodate, but that tailor certainly had.
But the floor and the revamp into chaos from pristine traditional temple worship has him distracted and elated tenfold, so much that he glances back toward the obsidian and flashes the shorter priestess an apologetic smile. “Where it will go is likely the easiest spot. I’d be heartbroken to break it.” He tacks on, flashing her a small smile before setting the bag down carefully by the more pristine portion of the floorboards, stepping out of the dirt and chaos of it to head toward the slab. “It should not take too long to get into place.” Heavy, absolutely, but nothing he thinks the two of them can’t handle, especially as he steps over to place his hands on the fatter edge of the obsidian slab, lifting it up a hair to remind himself how much it weighed.
She does her twirl and Astaroth beams at her, sharp toothed and quite pleased to hear that the tailor has been helping out. “He is quite a mastermind.” Given that the butcher harbored so much height, it made it difficult to alter pieces at times to accommodate, but that tailor certainly had.
But the floor and the revamp into chaos from pristine traditional temple worship has him distracted and elated tenfold, so much that he glances back toward the obsidian and flashes the shorter priestess an apologetic smile. “Where it will go is likely the easiest spot. I’d be heartbroken to break it.” He tacks on, flashing her a small smile before setting the bag down carefully by the more pristine portion of the floorboards, stepping out of the dirt and chaos of it to head toward the slab. “It should not take too long to get into place.” Heavy, absolutely, but nothing he thinks the two of them can’t handle, especially as he steps over to place his hands on the fatter edge of the obsidian slab, lifting it up a hair to remind himself how much it weighed.
Astaroth
so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine
