love, do you want love?
do you want lust? say you don't know
do you want lust? say you don't know
The cane he uses isn’t one like he’d had back in the Climb. Mundane oak as it were, he still harbors the muscle memory to utilize it in the way that he would have once, had the edges been sharpened to a blade or laced with spikes. It still gets the job done, satisfaction curling through his gut as the warm blood drips along his cheeks, clinging to the dark hair he’s brushed back and out of his face.
Utilizing the cane to stand once more, he leans a bit heavier on it, dark eyes taking in the scene around them before he sighs and flashes too sharp teeth toward her as a dark chuckle leaves him. “They are not the most intelligent of beasts. However, they can be amusing at times.” Prodding one of the carcasses with the end of his cane as he stretches out, letting the blood drip from his face onto his collar without a care in the world, the butcher takes a long, slow, steadying inhale.
Only to capture her glittering blues and sharp smile in return. “I thought you would never ask.” He drawls, his grin sharpening even more as he picks the one that he’d killed that wasn’t singed by Thalassa’s flame, lifting the deadweight of the rOUS up after hooking the cane around his arm, sharp teeth making quick work of tearing off a bite (and somehow it seems to make more and more sense just why all of his teeth rather than just the Ancient fangs were sharpened to points).
Utilizing the cane to stand once more, he leans a bit heavier on it, dark eyes taking in the scene around them before he sighs and flashes too sharp teeth toward her as a dark chuckle leaves him. “They are not the most intelligent of beasts. However, they can be amusing at times.” Prodding one of the carcasses with the end of his cane as he stretches out, letting the blood drip from his face onto his collar without a care in the world, the butcher takes a long, slow, steadying inhale.
Only to capture her glittering blues and sharp smile in return. “I thought you would never ask.” He drawls, his grin sharpening even more as he picks the one that he’d killed that wasn’t singed by Thalassa’s flame, lifting the deadweight of the rOUS up after hooking the cane around his arm, sharp teeth making quick work of tearing off a bite (and somehow it seems to make more and more sense just why all of his teeth rather than just the Ancient fangs were sharpened to points).
Astaroth
maybe you just like the control
