[KQ] dead men's tales

oh wouldn't that be lovely? you would torture me
whisper me the reasons that you hated me

It’s a taught breath, one that swells and exhales as if it were a bubble exploding. The bones fall, the Villi is quiet, the air around shifts into nothingness, an eerie emptiness that suddenly begins to take over despite the latent burst of flame from Thalassa. It shoots toward him, carving through the legs of his pants, leaving his skin perfectly fine underneath and the pants looking ragged and dreadful.

Using his fire to snuff out any lingering smoldering from the cotton, the butcher’s clothes smoke as Maea’s words paint the air, as she’s cast a precursory glance before his attention flits to Thal, reaching out to press his hand on her shoulder, dark eyes flitting to her briefly to look her over. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly, a dark brow lifting.

He parts from her briefly, unless she comes with him, to use the blade he’d had before to carve a portion of the cloak away from the void tinged villi, pocketing it. Fully intending to lick his wounds elsewhere, the butcher pauses to see if Thalassa would be snagging some for herself and would depart with him.

---

Asta snags some of the Spectral Villis Lace for himself as well!

Astaroth

say it in the way that makes my knees go weak