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
Snorting and inclining his head as water drips along his face, smearing some of the blood in the appearance of tear stains, the butcher looks back to Thalassa curiously. “I thought they might as well. And truthfully, perhaps they do and I simply do not know what magic tastes like?” His smile softens into a huff of a laugh at the idea, rolling his eyes slightly as he sinks back further and finishes off the strip.
As for demigod? The butcher’s head lolls against the side of the allogator, his dark hair like a wet paintbrush as it splays across its bloody and wet hide. “I have never tried it. Though I have thought about it.” And what he wouldn’t give to take a bite out of a certain water themed demigod.
But that’s beside the point as Thalassa’s and his gaze meet and there’s amusement and understanding amongst the hint of gratitude for her not shying away, even as she asks her indulgent question. “I have never had a Mer, either, but I would imagine it is salty and fleshy, yes? Perhaps like a salmon might be, or a tuna.” Reaching out with his pointy elbow, he nudges her playfully before he snickers to himself, curious how she might take to being referred to similarly to a tuna once upon a time.
“Do you recall what you could shift into?” He asks curiously, watching her face and the way blood mixed with water drips from her own raven dark hair.
As for demigod? The butcher’s head lolls against the side of the allogator, his dark hair like a wet paintbrush as it splays across its bloody and wet hide. “I have never tried it. Though I have thought about it.” And what he wouldn’t give to take a bite out of a certain water themed demigod.
But that’s beside the point as Thalassa’s and his gaze meet and there’s amusement and understanding amongst the hint of gratitude for her not shying away, even as she asks her indulgent question. “I have never had a Mer, either, but I would imagine it is salty and fleshy, yes? Perhaps like a salmon might be, or a tuna.” Reaching out with his pointy elbow, he nudges her playfully before he snickers to himself, curious how she might take to being referred to similarly to a tuna once upon a time.
“Do you recall what you could shift into?” He asks curiously, watching her face and the way blood mixed with water drips from her own raven dark hair.
Astaroth
fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart
