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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
Obediently as ever, Remi nodded immediately and did as he was instructed. Looking at the beam Remi briefly considered letting his hands transform into paws so that he wouldn't get splinters, but that would cause him to lose a great deal of dexterity which would probably be needed. As if thinking the same, Dev called a halt and wanted him a pair of loves. With an appreciative grin, Remi slipped them onto his hands and gave Dev a sideways glance. "Of course not." Remi agreed with a boyish smile. He'd never felt the sort of masculine need to hide certain skills, but he supposed he understood it in a sense.
Nodding with easy understanding, Remi bent his knees and waited for the bear to give the signal. With clearly less strength than Dev, the alchemist was not without muscle and he was able to navigate and maneuver the beam to where the butcher had set the markers.
A light sheen of sweat broke out against his forehead and even as his muscles began to sing slightly, Remi found himself smiling despite the strange and horrible past few days he'd had. Manual labour was not really something that came with his territory anymore, and he'd forgotten what an antidepressant it could be.
"Ahh, no." Remi answered with a light shake of his head. "My father was a merchant and so we spent most of our time traveling. I can fix a wagon better than I can build a house I think." He admitted with an untroubled smile. "I always just made due with what we had at the time. I would sleep under the wagon if it was raining rather than ever thinking to construct a tent." Remi continued with another shrug and sheepish grin. No doubt someone like Dev would find that foolish; living in hardship when there were so many resources around. But Remi's formative years were spent trying to keep his father's business afloat while the man whored and gambled and drank. Practicality was contextual.
remi
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning And I find myself careening in places where I should not let me go
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
