and you'll wake up all alone, on an old beat-down dirt country road
and you'll crawl back through fire and snow
and you'll crawl back through fire and snow
The start of the quest had been… Challenging.
Pair that with the tasks listed out in his head from Vox and the butcher is in quite a mood. And while he feels like he’s dragged Danta around through a lot of it, this one he can unburden him with – choosing Thalassa instead only because she was the only person he could think of that wasn’t his lover that would be just as fiery about everything as Danta was.
So a letter was sent to the captain, short and quick, a quick jaunt into Stormbreak – a space he had been to before that harbored a decent amount of clothing for his preferred fashion, so he tries to use that as an excuse. One that he doesn’t know whether or not Thal would care about – she didn’t seem the type that would indulge him on outings for clothing, at least. Perhaps he’s wrong about that.
Anyway, a request to meet outside the Plaza where they might be able to delve in and find a variety of shops for any of their needs, wants, or desires (should they be able to be found, that is). The butcher stands there, threaded cane glinting in the Flowerbirth gloomy early afternoon, clouds moving overhead and the scent of fresh rain and damp cobblestones. It had only just quit raining, which is why the butcher had chosen to not bring the parasol he’d considered. Instead, he stands on the outside of it, watching the crowds of people flit through the plaza. Dressed impeccably as usual, he’s opted for a dark silk waistcoat with a black undershirt, black pants, and black pointed shoes. Perhaps he’s chosen the attire to match the dark circles under his eyes.
Pair that with the tasks listed out in his head from Vox and the butcher is in quite a mood. And while he feels like he’s dragged Danta around through a lot of it, this one he can unburden him with – choosing Thalassa instead only because she was the only person he could think of that wasn’t his lover that would be just as fiery about everything as Danta was.
So a letter was sent to the captain, short and quick, a quick jaunt into Stormbreak – a space he had been to before that harbored a decent amount of clothing for his preferred fashion, so he tries to use that as an excuse. One that he doesn’t know whether or not Thal would care about – she didn’t seem the type that would indulge him on outings for clothing, at least. Perhaps he’s wrong about that.
Anyway, a request to meet outside the Plaza where they might be able to delve in and find a variety of shops for any of their needs, wants, or desires (should they be able to be found, that is). The butcher stands there, threaded cane glinting in the Flowerbirth gloomy early afternoon, clouds moving overhead and the scent of fresh rain and damp cobblestones. It had only just quit raining, which is why the butcher had chosen to not bring the parasol he’d considered. Instead, he stands on the outside of it, watching the crowds of people flit through the plaza. Dressed impeccably as usual, he’s opted for a dark silk waistcoat with a black undershirt, black pants, and black pointed shoes. Perhaps he’s chosen the attire to match the dark circles under his eyes.
Astaroth
'cause there ain't no other place to go
