Astaroth
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
Inclining his head as the cane’s tip meets the crust of the earth, Astaroth’s grin is still naught more than a mask as he watches the peryton begin to flutter back toward the hybrid on a wind that the butcher now can likely assume is of Deimos’ own making. Straightening out once Belial is contained, he shakes his head with a soft accented laugh — a touch more Whitebrim than before, as if still somewhat off by the whole ordeal. “It is fine. Truly.” Glancing back toward the companion, his gaze lifts back to Deimos’ own after a few heartbeats.
“Nostalgia and warmth, mostly. What brings you all this way?” He doesn’t admit the fact he’s out here practicing batting techniques against the volcanic rock plucked from the surface of the earth, nor the fact that Halo isn’t really all that far away from the Climb. Instead, simply standing there to watch the Sword’s approach, leaning heavily on the cane, a too sharp smile still aimed his direction bordering on a touch of chaotic franticness.
“Nostalgia and warmth, mostly. What brings you all this way?” He doesn’t admit the fact he’s out here practicing batting techniques against the volcanic rock plucked from the surface of the earth, nor the fact that Halo isn’t really all that far away from the Climb. Instead, simply standing there to watch the Sword’s approach, leaning heavily on the cane, a too sharp smile still aimed his direction bordering on a touch of chaotic franticness.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious
i'm a fucking delight
i'm a fucking delight
