// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //
He lets her take the scars in as he folds his clothes, each river of scar tissue a portion of a story. The appearance stretched and torn, like portions of his skin had been torn straight from his bones. (It’s precisely what had happened to him in the past.) There are smaller scars that accompany them, too, the ring-like scar tissue around his wrists that are softer and only truly noticeable from the discoloration compared to the rest of his flesh. Along his forearms sit prim and proper little slices - not from anything self harm related (Astaroth would never) but they are little blade scars left behind from the series of bloodbane he’s done in the past.
And aside from the occasional nick here and there, his shoulders and his sides are mostly scar free. So when he turns back to her as she debates where best to begin, the butcher’s lips twitch into a smile. “It does not.” He’d learned that the hard way once he’d been completely healed and learned of the magic under his skin.
As for the rest of the task, however fast or slow he wished it to be, he’d imagined it would be something that would be slow and painful (only because he’d originally intended on doing it himself if Charlie was unable to help and he’d not wanted to run the risk of blacking out before he’d succeeded).
Humming thoughtfully, he regards her, fingers tapping against the stone of the slab he leans against. “Given I have only experienced the thrill of nearly dying once as opposed to torture, let us go fast and quick, mm?” Bouncing his brows toward her, he flashes a bright grin. He was typically so careful with the bloodbane that he was nearly used to the slow drips of blood. Changing it up with the promise someone was there to drag him out if it went too far felt like the perfect call to make.
And aside from the occasional nick here and there, his shoulders and his sides are mostly scar free. So when he turns back to her as she debates where best to begin, the butcher’s lips twitch into a smile. “It does not.” He’d learned that the hard way once he’d been completely healed and learned of the magic under his skin.
As for the rest of the task, however fast or slow he wished it to be, he’d imagined it would be something that would be slow and painful (only because he’d originally intended on doing it himself if Charlie was unable to help and he’d not wanted to run the risk of blacking out before he’d succeeded).
Humming thoughtfully, he regards her, fingers tapping against the stone of the slab he leans against. “Given I have only experienced the thrill of nearly dying once as opposed to torture, let us go fast and quick, mm?” Bouncing his brows toward her, he flashes a bright grin. He was typically so careful with the bloodbane that he was nearly used to the slow drips of blood. Changing it up with the promise someone was there to drag him out if it went too far felt like the perfect call to make.
Astaroth
// and i'll paint it red //
