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
Plans were something that uniquely characterized the butcher’s methods to a T – but when it came to Danta? Those were much harder to come across. Chaos ensued; plans became spontaneous bursts of whatever the occasion called for. So, when it came to his plans regarding asking the Maverick, well, he’s figured by now that it would be impossible to plan it. “Mm, I have ideas. However, we both know Danta and we both know that I may be waiting for quite some time if I waited until I had everything exactly how I wished it to be to ask him.” He admits with an affectionate hum of a laugh before he shakes his head, sending more droplets raining down into his dark hair from horns that glisten with oil-spill colors of a rainbow’s shadow. “I shall let you know if you can help, though.” When it came to parties and celebrations, he knows just who to talk to. Flora’s were often the best he’s experienced since he’s come back from stone.
He scans her face, noting the sudden spark of affection and an almost faraway glimpse to her face. He knows her well enough, he thinks, to see beneath portions of the Doubletake’s mask, so as she settles in more comfortably against him and offers out all of the good things that await them when the springs is done (he finds he could probably stay here all night if it came down to it, even if he ends up looking like a prune). “Ah my favorites.” He purrs with a sigh of relief, sinking back in the springs to tilt his head up and back to rest against the edge, sinking a little lower in the water until it laps against his shoulders. The pale arcs of the newer scars seem less angry now, silvery and less puffy. Water drips from his cheeks into the dark stubble of his beard, and for all intents and purposes he looks like he could be slumbering, except for the slight crack to his eyelids and the way he glances sidelong at her.
“Now, what do you have planned for Kaisel's birthday party, darling?” He’s nosy but willing to help. It shouldn’t come as any kind of surprise to her, as it's one of his biggest characteristics to those that have helped him.
He scans her face, noting the sudden spark of affection and an almost faraway glimpse to her face. He knows her well enough, he thinks, to see beneath portions of the Doubletake’s mask, so as she settles in more comfortably against him and offers out all of the good things that await them when the springs is done (he finds he could probably stay here all night if it came down to it, even if he ends up looking like a prune). “Ah my favorites.” He purrs with a sigh of relief, sinking back in the springs to tilt his head up and back to rest against the edge, sinking a little lower in the water until it laps against his shoulders. The pale arcs of the newer scars seem less angry now, silvery and less puffy. Water drips from his cheeks into the dark stubble of his beard, and for all intents and purposes he looks like he could be slumbering, except for the slight crack to his eyelids and the way he glances sidelong at her.
“Now, what do you have planned for Kaisel's birthday party, darling?” He’s nosy but willing to help. It shouldn’t come as any kind of surprise to her, as it's one of his biggest characteristics to those that have helped him.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
