Astaroth
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
Once more off to the Climb for similar reasons, the trek there made much easier from the portal back to the Grounds — it gives him time to explore the varying changes the Climb has endured since he slept peacefully down below.
He’s a bit on edge, of course, the Crust harbored a multitude of gore crows. So far, though, the butcher has been free from the beasts (even if he’s pretty sure he isn’t that far away from where he’d once been chained as bird food.) The cane remains in hand, having been working on some hand eye coordination (as if he could swat away the avians if they arrived), tossing up a rock of volcanic grey and swinging with the cane right after, watching it disperse with a loud crack.
Dressed down from before but still in impeccable finery, he wears dark charcoal pants, a golden waistcoat over a teal silk shirt. The ash from the rock sprinkles down, marring revealed arms from sleeves that are rolled up. Any quiet control he harbors over himself and his appearance are immediately gone with the sound of ruffling wings, followed by Belial’s squawking taunts. Turning, on edge and with a look of surprise, the butcher regards the pair as they approach before loosening a sigh of relief and masks it with a shark toothed grin of greeting, trying to push back loosened long black hair from where it had fallen in a curtain against his forehead. “Ah, hello Deimos.”
He’s a bit on edge, of course, the Crust harbored a multitude of gore crows. So far, though, the butcher has been free from the beasts (even if he’s pretty sure he isn’t that far away from where he’d once been chained as bird food.) The cane remains in hand, having been working on some hand eye coordination (as if he could swat away the avians if they arrived), tossing up a rock of volcanic grey and swinging with the cane right after, watching it disperse with a loud crack.
Dressed down from before but still in impeccable finery, he wears dark charcoal pants, a golden waistcoat over a teal silk shirt. The ash from the rock sprinkles down, marring revealed arms from sleeves that are rolled up. Any quiet control he harbors over himself and his appearance are immediately gone with the sound of ruffling wings, followed by Belial’s squawking taunts. Turning, on edge and with a look of surprise, the butcher regards the pair as they approach before loosening a sigh of relief and masks it with a shark toothed grin of greeting, trying to push back loosened long black hair from where it had fallen in a curtain against his forehead. “Ah, hello Deimos.”
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious
i'm a fucking delight
i'm a fucking delight
