you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
She’d been immensely helpful while he’d lost his mind – so it was to Levinsward that the butcher takes his first, unbidden trek away from home. Not worried of the avian wildlife for the first time in what felt like ages. Confidence was a beautiful coat on the butcher, even as he waits outside of Thalassa’s door – a bag slung over one of his arms, while the other shook out the parasol from the rain on the way here.
He hadn’t wanted to drip all over her floor, of course.
Its folded up neatly and left on her porch by the time she answers the door, a bright and sharp grin on display the second he sees her and hears the song of his name on her tongue. “Hello, darling.” He says in greeting, his accent not as thick as he steps in, shaking out any lingering cold from the trek over to feel the warmth of her home sink into his bones.
He watches as she goes to snag another glass as he begins to withdraw the items in the bag he’d brought with him, that favored halovian whiskey from before being chief among them. “Bourbon is lovely.” He hums, not expecting to break into the brand new bottle given that it was a gift for her. “I have brought you a thank you gift for helping me when I was, for lack of a better phrase, losing my mind.” Nodding toward the bottle of whiskey, he slides into one of the seats she has at the table. “I have finished the quest and have finally been able to sleep.” He explains with a soft laugh – though everything about him would suggest he had gotten all of the relief and sleep he’d needed.
He hadn’t wanted to drip all over her floor, of course.
Its folded up neatly and left on her porch by the time she answers the door, a bright and sharp grin on display the second he sees her and hears the song of his name on her tongue. “Hello, darling.” He says in greeting, his accent not as thick as he steps in, shaking out any lingering cold from the trek over to feel the warmth of her home sink into his bones.
He watches as she goes to snag another glass as he begins to withdraw the items in the bag he’d brought with him, that favored halovian whiskey from before being chief among them. “Bourbon is lovely.” He hums, not expecting to break into the brand new bottle given that it was a gift for her. “I have brought you a thank you gift for helping me when I was, for lack of a better phrase, losing my mind.” Nodding toward the bottle of whiskey, he slides into one of the seats she has at the table. “I have finished the quest and have finally been able to sleep.” He explains with a soft laugh – though everything about him would suggest he had gotten all of the relief and sleep he’d needed.
Astaroth
fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart
