love, do you want love?
do you want lust? say you don't know
do you want lust? say you don't know
It’s a shame that the butcher doesn’t know just yet what he’s walking into. Designated by Danta to go and find out what the fuss was about, and a promise to come back when it was done, Astaroth thrives in the warmth of Longheat and the humidity that seems to linger within the confines of the maze walls, full of pollen and additional heat. He comes as prepared as can be for whatever might be out there, silently sending up a prayer to Dygra that it isn’t another one of those stupid infected wicker women, dressed in dark slacks, boots, and a nice dark shirt – harboring a good amount of flexibility for whatever might be coming their way, but still just as put together as ever.
A knife sits in his boot ready to be withdrawn, the cane left at home until he can get it functional enough to use. And the rest of it? Well, he’s got magic at his fingertips, ready to be used whenever needed.
Approaching the entrance to the Labryinth, he spies a rather rugged looking man – shorter, given Asta’s got his impeccable posture as usual, but he cares little about the differences there. Figuring this was whomever he was supposed to meet he flashes a sharp toothed grin of greeting and a dip of his chin. “Hello, Jack, is it?” His voice is rich and accented and cuts off precisely as his head swoops over to spot a tiny dragon and an all too familiar voice – which causes his smile to turn masked and a drop of dread to sink into his gut. Fuck.
Asta arrives with everything on his profile too!
A knife sits in his boot ready to be withdrawn, the cane left at home until he can get it functional enough to use. And the rest of it? Well, he’s got magic at his fingertips, ready to be used whenever needed.
Approaching the entrance to the Labryinth, he spies a rather rugged looking man – shorter, given Asta’s got his impeccable posture as usual, but he cares little about the differences there. Figuring this was whomever he was supposed to meet he flashes a sharp toothed grin of greeting and a dip of his chin. “Hello, Jack, is it?” His voice is rich and accented and cuts off precisely as his head swoops over to spot a tiny dragon and an all too familiar voice – which causes his smile to turn masked and a drop of dread to sink into his gut. Fuck.
Asta arrives with everything on his profile too!
Astaroth
maybe you just like the control
