we thieves and lovers will keep up our urges to sin, to sin
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
Asta’s section is certainly for the more macabre and grim of trinkets – not unfounded in the Gilded Market, of course, but one that definitely had it’s own shadow cast over it. It likely helps that there is a smiling shadow that hovers on the walls from where the butcher finds himself bent over a particularly large looking boar skull, bone bleached and with tusks that extend outward, made to appear thinner toward the tips. The butcher sits there with a small chisel, etching designs into the face of the skull that he intends to be some kind of key holder or a place to hang things like necklaces perhaps – when he glances up to see the shadow alert him to some movement toward his sector.
Straightening up, the butcher’s tail twitches as he sets the chisel down, wipes his hands off and runs a hand through his hair that he tries to keep tucked back behind his antlers – horns that are extended into four points rather than the two he’d always had before, turning to see who’s arrived with a sharp smile already on his face. Adorned to keep away the cold himself, braziers keep the workspace around him warm, as does the dark violet turtleneck that trails up his neck, sleeves pushed up just enough to not get in the way. A rough diamond ring sits on his finger, alongside the crimson sheened feather bracelet on his wrist that settles against scar tissue that matches the other wrist and a few thinner scars that adorn the Ancient's forearms in the process. He seems to pay them little mind as he focuses on who his visitors might be.
Standing, then, as he sees Deimos accompanied with a child bearing a hat with luxere hat – which receives automatic approval from the deer-Ancient, he greets the Warden with a polite note. “Deimos, what a pleasant surprise.” His dark gaze drops to the child he carries. “Accompanied by a delightful little luxere, I see?” The amusement is soft, because he obviously knows she isn’t a real luxere, but he can’t help but to make the joke if everyone seemed to make them about himself and his newish Feirw shift.
Straightening up, the butcher’s tail twitches as he sets the chisel down, wipes his hands off and runs a hand through his hair that he tries to keep tucked back behind his antlers – horns that are extended into four points rather than the two he’d always had before, turning to see who’s arrived with a sharp smile already on his face. Adorned to keep away the cold himself, braziers keep the workspace around him warm, as does the dark violet turtleneck that trails up his neck, sleeves pushed up just enough to not get in the way. A rough diamond ring sits on his finger, alongside the crimson sheened feather bracelet on his wrist that settles against scar tissue that matches the other wrist and a few thinner scars that adorn the Ancient's forearms in the process. He seems to pay them little mind as he focuses on who his visitors might be.
Standing, then, as he sees Deimos accompanied with a child bearing a hat with luxere hat – which receives automatic approval from the deer-Ancient, he greets the Warden with a polite note. “Deimos, what a pleasant surprise.” His dark gaze drops to the child he carries. “Accompanied by a delightful little luxere, I see?” The amusement is soft, because he obviously knows she isn’t a real luxere, but he can’t help but to make the joke if everyone seemed to make them about himself and his newish Feirw shift.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
