the evidence is on my body
but I never complain
but I never complain
He could ask if he wanted to, in a moment of the overtness of his tone drifting deeply into the recesses of a Halo long since forgotten, the butcher holds the hammer and watches the molds be cooled instead of the shenanigans outside. “Crows are fond of stealing within the Grounds these days.” He says in case Deimos is asking in regards to the fauna itself. “As for me, I do better when they don’t catch me by surprise.” And when he has the option to close his eyes rather than deal with the avians themselves.
“That’s good, I think? Could be worse.” He murmurs in lieu of the possessed gourds not doing much beyond what he might expect for a spirited vampire pumpkin.
At least now the molds are cooled, enough that Asta (in his Ancientness no longer needing to worry about heat or fire or burning), can collect them and hammer out his stress into the bits and pieces until they’re flat enough he can start sawing them to make all of the smaller pieces.
“That’s good, I think? Could be worse.” He murmurs in lieu of the possessed gourds not doing much beyond what he might expect for a spirited vampire pumpkin.
At least now the molds are cooled, enough that Asta (in his Ancientness no longer needing to worry about heat or fire or burning), can collect them and hammer out his stress into the bits and pieces until they’re flat enough he can start sawing them to make all of the smaller pieces.
Astaroth
i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing
