// i am the righteous hand of god //
He can feel it the second his blood spreads against the shrine. Warmth and belonging envelopes Astaroth, the rubies and walls rippling with the power of his great goddess. He loosens an immediately relaxed breath, lifting his head to view the room as a whole, to see his goddess in all the ways of the shrine she chooses to show herself (the glittering rubies that bring about her voice).
“Thank you.” He starts, his pleasantries foremost before he’s collecting the cane and lifting it in both hands, like an offering of sorts. “It has been an age since I had a good quality cane, and I was hopeful that we may be able to expand on it?” Letting his dark gaze drift down from the rubies and candles to the cane in question. “Perhaps we might make it bladed, but upon activation it becomes a serrated whip?” A button would suffice, he thinks, to split the blade into sharp serrated pieces that are still relatively flexible, but he’s open for his goddess’ beautiful mind and capabilities.
“Thank you.” He starts, his pleasantries foremost before he’s collecting the cane and lifting it in both hands, like an offering of sorts. “It has been an age since I had a good quality cane, and I was hopeful that we may be able to expand on it?” Letting his dark gaze drift down from the rubies and candles to the cane in question. “Perhaps we might make it bladed, but upon activation it becomes a serrated whip?” A button would suffice, he thinks, to split the blade into sharp serrated pieces that are still relatively flexible, but he’s open for his goddess’ beautiful mind and capabilities.
Astaroth
// i am the devil that you forgot //
