Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
Thankful to see the fire actually do something (unlike with the wicker woman), Astaroth quietly relishes in the absolute overkill the two of them do, watching as nothing remains but ash and bone. Satisfying as it is, it doesn’t quell the bloodlust need within him. So he straightens up a little, extinguishes the fire, and rises from where they’d covered the cache again.
“That sounds like a brilliant plan.” He feels as though he could use a drink or two of five anyway. Brushing the ash from his knees, Asta straightens fully to try to fix and smooth out the shirt and vest, dark gaze dancing between the two of them. “I used to have a rock slider shift.” He informs Flora before sliding his gaze toward Danta. “Do you remember?” He recalls the few and far between times where shifts were on display, but at least the commentary makes for idle chatter while they start to head up toward the Hanged Man.
“That sounds like a brilliant plan.” He feels as though he could use a drink or two of five anyway. Brushing the ash from his knees, Asta straightens fully to try to fix and smooth out the shirt and vest, dark gaze dancing between the two of them. “I used to have a rock slider shift.” He informs Flora before sliding his gaze toward Danta. “Do you remember?” He recalls the few and far between times where shifts were on display, but at least the commentary makes for idle chatter while they start to head up toward the Hanged Man.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
