// day breaks sorrow //
Her happiness and excitement at seeing the change reminds him of Rayla when he’d first come into the power of Haunt, the promise of so much more terror to be drawn from those around. It’s bittersweet, in a way. The familiarity in the way he’s turned into a nightmare, sitting here so casually while the rest of the Dusklight hushes, stealing glances that he can absolutely see as his pupiless gaze glances over her shoulder.
“If you like this one, darling, you will definitely like the full forms.” He announces in that dissonant voice again, almost playful in the way a cat would play with its prey. The black of his eyes returns to her. It takes a few more moments before he’s started stuffing it away, first the claws melt away, the too sharp smile, the way his face looks akin to a skeletons in the right light (or shadow), then to the eyes that look more like bottomless pits. They return to the deep dark brown of the butcher’s gaze, watching her curiously, and the horns shrink – not to how they were, but larger. Extending out longer than he otherwise would keep them, but not nearly as long as it had been. His voice returns to normal as well, no longer with the uncanny dissonance.
All that’s left is the flicker of a shadow that appears behind him, eerily peering at Thalassa with an equally sharp smile cut through the block of shade. He reaches for the glass of whiskey, then, taking a long slow sip before setting it down and letting the low rumble of a laugh leave him. “I have seen it before. It was possibly my most used magic before I succumbed to my dashing gargoyle state.” Winking to her, he pokes a piece of the raw meat from the platter and lifts it to his lips, his sharp teeth taking a slice from it with incredible ease.
“If you like this one, darling, you will definitely like the full forms.” He announces in that dissonant voice again, almost playful in the way a cat would play with its prey. The black of his eyes returns to her. It takes a few more moments before he’s started stuffing it away, first the claws melt away, the too sharp smile, the way his face looks akin to a skeletons in the right light (or shadow), then to the eyes that look more like bottomless pits. They return to the deep dark brown of the butcher’s gaze, watching her curiously, and the horns shrink – not to how they were, but larger. Extending out longer than he otherwise would keep them, but not nearly as long as it had been. His voice returns to normal as well, no longer with the uncanny dissonance.
All that’s left is the flicker of a shadow that appears behind him, eerily peering at Thalassa with an equally sharp smile cut through the block of shade. He reaches for the glass of whiskey, then, taking a long slow sip before setting it down and letting the low rumble of a laugh leave him. “I have seen it before. It was possibly my most used magic before I succumbed to my dashing gargoyle state.” Winking to her, he pokes a piece of the raw meat from the platter and lifts it to his lips, his sharp teeth taking a slice from it with incredible ease.
Astaroth
// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //
