Astaroth
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
“I have, indeed.” He drawls a touch teasingly, though while it hadn’t surprised either of them, her awe and affection are warmly received regardless, and while he offers the fact he’d spent years perfecting his, he watches with a touch of glee to see the feathers spark into flame, bits and pieces of them floating on wind within the air like little fireflies amongst the rest of the shrine and the machine.
She anchors her tail around his leg and he remains steady as a pillar, letting her remain as tall as she could possibly be as he meets her in the middle, allowing her the moment to take in all of the scents that linger amongst the butcher’s own body. At her compliment, though, a deep hum of a laugh leaves him and he inclines his head. “Thank you.” He does try to mask the blood, but there are times that it seems to still stain him, carried with him wherever he went.
So long as everyone else found it fine and appealing, perhaps he had nothing to worry about. “Yes, precisely.” The sharp smile he flashes her is beaming once she’s turned around, broken up only by draining the rest of the cup of tea. “You can also test that with scents. If you find yourself overwhelmed, keep a space on yourself that is not scented, smell it for a few moments to reorient yourself. Then, the scents should blend less together.” So she could pick them out from a crowd, if need be.
But, with the teacup in hand empty, he wonders what the next plan is, so he slips the handle of it through his finger to let it dangle and flashes her a mischievous grin. “Is this going next?” He asks in a playful whisper, like it’s a secret between the two of them and Dygra.
She anchors her tail around his leg and he remains steady as a pillar, letting her remain as tall as she could possibly be as he meets her in the middle, allowing her the moment to take in all of the scents that linger amongst the butcher’s own body. At her compliment, though, a deep hum of a laugh leaves him and he inclines his head. “Thank you.” He does try to mask the blood, but there are times that it seems to still stain him, carried with him wherever he went.
So long as everyone else found it fine and appealing, perhaps he had nothing to worry about. “Yes, precisely.” The sharp smile he flashes her is beaming once she’s turned around, broken up only by draining the rest of the cup of tea. “You can also test that with scents. If you find yourself overwhelmed, keep a space on yourself that is not scented, smell it for a few moments to reorient yourself. Then, the scents should blend less together.” So she could pick them out from a crowd, if need be.
But, with the teacup in hand empty, he wonders what the next plan is, so he slips the handle of it through his finger to let it dangle and flashes her a mischievous grin. “Is this going next?” He asks in a playful whisper, like it’s a secret between the two of them and Dygra.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious
i'm a fucking delight
i'm a fucking delight
