lord help anyone who stands in my way; for I am not merciful, and i am not kind
and i am not afraid to make you wish that i was
and i am not afraid to make you wish that i was
There are a surprising amount of blondes within the Dusklight tonight, and a large amount of them wearing very little. Not that Astaroth’s gaze lingers on any of them — seeking out the tale tell signs of the Maverick, the butcher’s gaze drifts from person to person, groupings to groupings, then to couples to couples.
And that’s when he finds that shadowy alcove, Danta dressed in sleek black that does manage to hide a fair amount but not the blonde hair swept back, the glittering diamond horns atop his head, nor the woman quite comfortably curling up against him. And while he knows that it’s the status quo for the Maverick, discomfort and annoyance starts to spiral in his gut.
It’s unreasonable, he chastises himself. The Maverick owns the brothel, after all. He should be able to participate, but gods the fact that everything between them is so new and fresh that there’s a shocking amount of insecurities that flare beneath the butcher’s skin.
Arms fold across his chest, cane tucked into his elbow as he turns his attention away, perhaps giving the chance for the Maverick to turn her down as he had the woman that had boldly come up to the butcher a week or so ago, it’s after a few moments that the butcher’s dark gaze shifts back toward the couple with a hard set to his jaw.
And that’s when he finds that shadowy alcove, Danta dressed in sleek black that does manage to hide a fair amount but not the blonde hair swept back, the glittering diamond horns atop his head, nor the woman quite comfortably curling up against him. And while he knows that it’s the status quo for the Maverick, discomfort and annoyance starts to spiral in his gut.
It’s unreasonable, he chastises himself. The Maverick owns the brothel, after all. He should be able to participate, but gods the fact that everything between them is so new and fresh that there’s a shocking amount of insecurities that flare beneath the butcher’s skin.
Arms fold across his chest, cane tucked into his elbow as he turns his attention away, perhaps giving the chance for the Maverick to turn her down as he had the woman that had boldly come up to the butcher a week or so ago, it’s after a few moments that the butcher’s dark gaze shifts back toward the couple with a hard set to his jaw.
Astaroth
say your prayers now
