run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
If only is an intriguing wording - but he knows her enough to know her sarcasm ran well and deep, so he chooses to take it as such. That Vox’s appearance would be easier to stomach than his true guess. And while they walk - and as he feels the soft brush of his charred pant legs against his legs - his attention focuses on her and the distaste leaking from her like a squid losing ink.
“That sounds like her.” The murmur is gentle, not to interject or dissuade Thalassa’s experience in dealing with Maea, but that whenever the pale Ancient seemed to get near enough to an apology, it turns into a victim arc that the butcher can’t stand. In his mind, he could and often was a monster. But he owned those portions unashamedly. What he didn’t like was being considered a monster when he was actively being considerate.
Nodding to hear that she’d offered another chance to start it off with a fight, well, he’d be lying if the curve of his lips weren’t somewhat amused by the outcome. She’d take the bait, as she always did, and when Thal confirms his suspicions in mentioning she’d gotten a punch to her kidney, the low husky laugh leaves the butcher as he sighs and peers ahead into the din. “I do wish I could have seen it. Did she try to call off the fight after that?” He asks, craning his horned head back over toward Thalassa, the amusement palpable in the dark ochre of his eyes.
“That sounds like her.” The murmur is gentle, not to interject or dissuade Thalassa’s experience in dealing with Maea, but that whenever the pale Ancient seemed to get near enough to an apology, it turns into a victim arc that the butcher can’t stand. In his mind, he could and often was a monster. But he owned those portions unashamedly. What he didn’t like was being considered a monster when he was actively being considerate.
Nodding to hear that she’d offered another chance to start it off with a fight, well, he’d be lying if the curve of his lips weren’t somewhat amused by the outcome. She’d take the bait, as she always did, and when Thal confirms his suspicions in mentioning she’d gotten a punch to her kidney, the low husky laugh leaves the butcher as he sighs and peers ahead into the din. “I do wish I could have seen it. Did she try to call off the fight after that?” He asks, craning his horned head back over toward Thalassa, the amusement palpable in the dark ochre of his eyes.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
