// he's nice, polite, he'll catch you by surprise //
He waits patiently for her arrival with zero judgement written on his face for however long it does or doesn’t take for her to open the door. He had a feeling she was there, based off of having heard that the Marauder was still docked in Jack Tar. So perhaps, part of it had been luck, but it had also been calculated.
The door opens and his smile brightens. The butcher straightens up, knocking a few droplets from his horns down onto his carefully swept back hair that’s also glistening with rain. She’s silent at first, taking him in, but in that time the butcher takes her in, too. The dark circles, the sharpness of her tone when she speaks.
But as always, Astaroth doesn’t take it personally. “Thalassa,” he greets her quietly, his voice warm and gentle as it trails across the syllables of her name. “I apologize for how long it took me to coordinate a time when you were here.” He murmurs softly, not saying one way or another what he was here for, nor the apology on the tip of his tongue from the party. Instead, he lifts the box in his hands a little as if in explanation as she reluctantly steps aside.
He takes the opportunity, stepping in and shedding his drenched coat, summoning a brief whip of flame to dry his horns and hair and face off, before he turns to her with his smile softening a touch. “I wanted to come and see you after the masquerade.” And the sharpness of which Danta had reacted to Thal’s quiet words. “We were all.. mm, on edge at that point.” His head tilts this way and that before he shakes his head and clicks his tongue.
“Anyway, I have brought this for you, darling. I do hope you enjoy it.” Handing over the box, the butcher waits for her to open it up. Beneath the beautiful wrapping and the bow, she’ll find that it opens to reveal a meticulously crafted and beautiful wind chime, made of bone and driftwood. Within the bones (some animal, some human), little carvings of ships at sea, monsters of the deep like krakens and ghost whales, and the crashing of waves line their surface. On the driftwood portions, they’re carved to be shaped in the form of musical notes. And when held up from the box would chime and clink with a haunting hollowness that he's certain would be a perfect addition to the thunder that sits like a baseline to the sounds outside her door.
The door opens and his smile brightens. The butcher straightens up, knocking a few droplets from his horns down onto his carefully swept back hair that’s also glistening with rain. She’s silent at first, taking him in, but in that time the butcher takes her in, too. The dark circles, the sharpness of her tone when she speaks.
But as always, Astaroth doesn’t take it personally. “Thalassa,” he greets her quietly, his voice warm and gentle as it trails across the syllables of her name. “I apologize for how long it took me to coordinate a time when you were here.” He murmurs softly, not saying one way or another what he was here for, nor the apology on the tip of his tongue from the party. Instead, he lifts the box in his hands a little as if in explanation as she reluctantly steps aside.
He takes the opportunity, stepping in and shedding his drenched coat, summoning a brief whip of flame to dry his horns and hair and face off, before he turns to her with his smile softening a touch. “I wanted to come and see you after the masquerade.” And the sharpness of which Danta had reacted to Thal’s quiet words. “We were all.. mm, on edge at that point.” His head tilts this way and that before he shakes his head and clicks his tongue.
“Anyway, I have brought this for you, darling. I do hope you enjoy it.” Handing over the box, the butcher waits for her to open it up. Beneath the beautiful wrapping and the bow, she’ll find that it opens to reveal a meticulously crafted and beautiful wind chime, made of bone and driftwood. Within the bones (some animal, some human), little carvings of ships at sea, monsters of the deep like krakens and ghost whales, and the crashing of waves line their surface. On the driftwood portions, they’re carved to be shaped in the form of musical notes. And when held up from the box would chime and clink with a haunting hollowness that he's certain would be a perfect addition to the thunder that sits like a baseline to the sounds outside her door.
Astaroth
// a smile so bright, you'd never bat an eye //
