Astaroth
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
The variety of surprise!s that ring through the Dusklight, admittedly make him want to wither away on the spot. But he plays it off well, his grin widening as he offers the scarf and coat to the Maverick as he’s gestured to go and enjoy himself amongst those in attendance. Snorting, he only gets so far before Charlie’s dart! occurs and she’s suspended in front of him, the warmth of her lips against his cheek a surprisingly welcome sensation that has him chuckling, reaching forward to cup her cheek in a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, darling.” He hums, before his attention flits toward Flora next.
He does accept the hug, unsurprisingly – such a select few that he willingly will allow to touch him being in this very room, one might get the assumption it’s normal and not as big of a thing as it is. “Flora, darling, your dress!” His grin widens, because he does realize it’s the one he’d had made for her, sent back to him in shreds. Evidently they’d kept the schematics of it, and she does look every inch as stunning as he had hoped. “You look just as beautiful as I thought you would.” Perhaps a touch of gushing over the dress before she presses the gift into his hands. Taking it, he opens it, spying the ruby within and the horns that perfectly matched the very ones he boasts. “Thank you, my dear, this is absolutely lovely.” Always great at giving gifts, the butcher almost seems a touch awkward with receiving them, but he plays it off quite well with the grin and the way he slips the gift out of the box and sets the box down to slip the boutonniere into the pocket of his waistcoat. “What do you think?” He twists a touch to show off the glittering reflection of the gemstone from the multihued flames throughout the Dusklight before he settles, tail flicking behind him wholly content with the gift and Flora’s thoughtfulness.
Though she always had been thoughtful, as he mulls over the idea a moment longer, he dips his head a touch toward her and lets his sharp grin remain just as bright. “If you’ll excuse me,” he evidently has quite a few more people to go and greet, as it turns out. Glancing back around, the butcher nods to all of the rest of those in attendance that seem a touch occupied with one another – thankfully so, because it gives him a moment to snatch a glass of his favorite drink (the chocolate martini, to be exact), and down the entirety of it to warm up his mental state for the surprise, taking a moment to situate himself before anyone else comes to greet him.
He does accept the hug, unsurprisingly – such a select few that he willingly will allow to touch him being in this very room, one might get the assumption it’s normal and not as big of a thing as it is. “Flora, darling, your dress!” His grin widens, because he does realize it’s the one he’d had made for her, sent back to him in shreds. Evidently they’d kept the schematics of it, and she does look every inch as stunning as he had hoped. “You look just as beautiful as I thought you would.” Perhaps a touch of gushing over the dress before she presses the gift into his hands. Taking it, he opens it, spying the ruby within and the horns that perfectly matched the very ones he boasts. “Thank you, my dear, this is absolutely lovely.” Always great at giving gifts, the butcher almost seems a touch awkward with receiving them, but he plays it off quite well with the grin and the way he slips the gift out of the box and sets the box down to slip the boutonniere into the pocket of his waistcoat. “What do you think?” He twists a touch to show off the glittering reflection of the gemstone from the multihued flames throughout the Dusklight before he settles, tail flicking behind him wholly content with the gift and Flora’s thoughtfulness.
Though she always had been thoughtful, as he mulls over the idea a moment longer, he dips his head a touch toward her and lets his sharp grin remain just as bright. “If you’ll excuse me,” he evidently has quite a few more people to go and greet, as it turns out. Glancing back around, the butcher nods to all of the rest of those in attendance that seem a touch occupied with one another – thankfully so, because it gives him a moment to snatch a glass of his favorite drink (the chocolate martini, to be exact), and down the entirety of it to warm up his mental state for the surprise, taking a moment to situate himself before anyone else comes to greet him.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious
i'm a fucking delight
i'm a fucking delight
