black licorice

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

“It is often the prey.” Astaroth murmurs his agreement – the ones who write the fairytales, the soft ones that didn’t go out to face and slay the demons at their doors. There was a time and place to be a ‘monster’ as far as Astaroth was concerned, but it was far more important and impressive to keep one guessing. Don’t show all your cards and you may surprise someone.

Either way, he does use the hand that isn’t on her own to write down a little note about the collars that Dygra had made, certainly wanting to bring it up to Danta later out of pure curiosity of his thoughts. As such, he follows along her thought process unbeknownst to him and hums a little “I imagine you had plenty of bird cages around?” Flashing that sharp toothed grin back her way briefly as he sets the pen down once more.

Her fingers wiggle beneath his and Asta’s head tilts a little toward her, charmed as ever by her. “Would you perhaps be inclined to start tonight?” The smile shifts a little with his own feral hunger, dark brow rising as he scans her face, though assuming she’d be all the more excited for it.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

charlie

"Cages of all sorts." The blonde agrees, her eyes widening theatrically as she returns the Butcher's sharp grin. "High above the lava pools, though not so high that those within couldn't feel the heat." Perhaps the next time she saw Danta, Charlie would inquire whether the Dusklight offered any cages for its clientele that she could borrow.

Rather adoring the way this large man with his murderous ways was still educated and well dressed, Charlie watches him take his final note before her eyes grow wide and her fingers still beneath his. "Yes." She breathes, leaning forward in the chair and looking for all the world like she might clamber into his lap and take a chunk out of his throat, such was her rapt attention.

It didn't occur to her to ask if they were allowed or if anyone might get upset. Instead, she stifled a little trill of delight before springing out of the chair and, rather absurdly, offering out her hand to pull the larger man up as if that might hasten them on their way.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya
Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

“How wonderfully cruel.” Asta murmurs as he imagines the bird cages afflicted by the heat, thinking solely for the attuned they may have kept rather than their Ancient kin. After all, heat didn’t bother them all that much. But those thoughts begin to slip to the wayside, his notes will be there to contemplate at a later time, because now he’s asking if she’s interested in going on a specific kind of hunt.

And he should, truthfully, expect nothing less than her agreement, but it is still a small amount surprising to receive it in the way that she looks at him as if she’s ready to jump his bones. Honestly, he might let her once the hunt is over and they’ve had their fill.

She springs out of the chair and Asta pockets the pen and the notebook, before he moves to stand and finds her hand offered to haul him up. The butcher takes it gracefully before he’s drawn back to his full height, collecting his cane to speed up the process with how eager she is, all the while his mind works to figure out who their target might be.

One in particular comes to mind, and as they walk once he knows prying ears aren’t around, he leans down toward her a bit. “There’s a traveling merchant group here that should be leaving right about now. They are not from here, so perhaps catching one of them off guard as they make their way out may be beneficial for us.” He suggests, casting his dark gaze toward her as they delve out into the snow again, only Astaroth’s stride has a bit more purpose and eagerness with the prospect.

Is it bending the rule he agreed to with Danta? Absolutely. But there’ll be no scene to be had if they simply assume a monster had snatched a lone group member out in the forest.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

charlie

"And none of them could say they didn't know what was in store for them. We kept those cages there all year round." Charlie agreed, her sharp teeth clicking together in a wide smile. Not all consequences had to be overtly announced ahead of time, and while the priestess rarely experienced emotions like guilt over the pain she caused, there was something satisfying about watching other races brazenly walk into sign-posted traps.

Having to take several steps to match Asta's long stride as they make their way towards the exit, the priestess's eyes glimmer with eagerness as she nods. "Perfect." She hums; knowing nothing of any agreements about leaving the other races along, Charlie instead is only thinking of the Butcher's cunning in selecting prey who weren't likely to be missed given that they were leaving anyways.

Tugging her coat around her all the more tightly, Charlie engulfs the pair in a cheerful blaze of fire to keep them warm, but only until they're properly on the hunt. At that point, not only does she diminish the flames, but douses her racial traits as well. "We could do...damsel in distress?" She suggests, placing her hands on her cheeks and feigning a look of horror. "Or...I'm sure I could cut one away from the group." Eyebrows bobbing, Charlie glances into the darkness where a small puddle of firelight pulses, likely indicating where the merchants had settled for the evening.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya
Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

Chucking a dark and appreciative sound, Astaroth finds the smile glued to his face once more as he packs up. “If the warning was there, then they had no one else to blame.” He chalks it up to that, just as content as the warning of facing himself should anyone start a fight or any other trouble at the Dusklight.

Either way, they start to get on their way, and he flashes her the very same sharp grin as Charlie engulfs them in flame, keeping them warm and limber for however long is needed as he guides them toward the space he’d last seen the traveling group. The options are laid out and with her excitement and playful horror, Astaroth chuckles lightly, nodding to her. “Oh I think damsel works perfectly. Perhaps claim that you only require assistance from one of them? Perchance you claim your father needs help and may have broken his leg and you cannot pick him up?” He raises a dark brown as he leans down toward her, in complete conspiratorial showmanship.

The fire disappears and the cane is lifted into the crook of his arm so as to not give them away, as he scans the woods. A space far enough away that nothing could be heard, he nods to a clearing a few paces back that they had passed on the way here. “I will go place the trap.” And by trap, he means himself.

So while they part, Astaroth makes his way back to the clearing, and fully looks the part. “Trapped” under a tree that had broken due to the snow, he utilizes the darkness to hide his Ancientness, and sparks a small fire from the matchbook Danta had gifted him to retain some heat as he waits.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

charlie

"Sure thing, dad." Charlie purrs, crinkling her nose as she gazes adoringly up at him, already picturing what his face might look like bathed in blood, broken only but the white-crack of his smile.

Skipping off, Charlie follows the wagon tracks through the snow until she comes upon the little group. Ensuring that all of her racial traits had been doused such that she looked nothing more than a lost girl in need of help, she set her expression into one of worry and hopelessness before stumbling into the firelight. "Oh! Thank the gods I found you—" And so on and so forth until the blonde had enticed a man from the group who seemed young and virile enough that he wouldn't go down without a fight.

Where was the fun in that?

It won't be long before Asta will hear the chime of Charlie's voice, accompanied by another. "I really can't thank you enough. We had snared a rabbit, and when my father was removing the binding, the tree just...fell. It must have been really dry." How much of this sounded believable hardly mattered, not with Charlie's baby blues blinking pleadingly up into the face of a young man who seemed precisely the sort to rise to a challenge if only so he could demand something from Charlie in return. "Let's see if I can help you...then maybe you can help me, huh?" He said, brimming with confidence, his eyes hungrily on Charlie's curves however obscured they were beneath her coat.

"He's just here—" Parting from their prey, Charlie dashes to Asta, folding herself into the shadows where he'd fallen.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya
Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

His grin sharpens, amusement flaring in his dark gaze as they part to literally play the part. He settles while she’s gone, and the second voices make their announcement he snuffs out the flame, ensconced in shadows once again. His nose wrinkles in the shadows to hear the confident hum of the man’s voice, but as they come into view and Charlie dashes to him, one of Astaroth’s hands rises adoringly to her. “My darling girl, how lucky you are to have found help.” He praises in a faux hint of pain, remaining just in the shadows enough to let his other arm gesture to the leg “trapped” beneath the tree.

“Thank you, sir. I think I can kick it off if you help by reaching right here.” He gestures to the young man in a way that seems to suggest if he leans over Astaroth’s leg just enough to help “push” the tree off, it’ll work wonders to help free him. In reality, though, it’s a prime example of leaving oneself vulnerable, bent in a way that makes it difficult to move once snared, and given how naïve the young man looks, Astaroth thinks that they’ve certainly got the fish on the hook.

So much so, in fact, that he lets the young man get into position while his other arm squeezes Charlie in a signal of now, withdrawing the not trapped leg in a quickness that will hopefully land in the man’s temple region, dazing him enough they can pin him to the snow.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

charlie

"Oh please." Charlie trills to the stranger, already on her knees in the snow by her father. Wanting to be sure that Asta was in exactly the position he wanted to be in, the blonde batted her eyes, biting at her lower lip as if to silently suggest to their saviour exactly how she'd look in precisely such a position of gratitude for his efforts.

It works, both because Asta is cunning and because young men are not, such that as the Butcher coils and the NPC thinks of his cock, Asta's shoe strikes the side of his head before the man can even recognize that he's gravely underestimated the situation.

Immediately shedding her glamour, Charlie moves to the man's head where she places her elbow upon his throat and shoves. The crunch of his larynx collapsing is dull and brittle, but it has heat flashing in the priestess's belly. "Now, if your friends weren't so close I'd be happy to have you scream until your lungs were sore, but.." She shrugs, looking down at him as he tried to blink himself away from the brink of unconsciousness.

"—" He tried to say, but of course, no sound came out, and with shaky hands he tried to roll over in the snow, pawing at his throat.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya
Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

The strike lands and Astaroth’s own bloodlust suddenly sparks to life, turning the gentleman into far more of a feral kind of beast. He pulls himself up the second the man collapses into the snow and Charlie’s already on him, her shrug and words sparking a deep and darker laugh from the butcher. As such, from where the man tries to turn over, sputtering, Astaroth rises like a horned, devilish shadow behind Charlie.

“We do quite appreciate the sacrifice, regardless.” He drawls in a throatier, deeper accented tone as that sharp grin comes into view, reaching to pin the man’s shoulders down to keep him on his back, straddling him to pin him and keep him from twisting back over. It gives him a moment to try and decide where they should start – reflecting on trying not to rush through it. It’s only been himself since he’s woken from his sleep. So meticulously, the butcher decides in the moment to slip the dagger out of his boot, pressing the blade up against the man’s chin, lifting his head as if to inspect, leaving a small cut along his chin for the trouble.

Then, after another heartbeat of a decision, Astaroth starts utilizing the blade to cut along the collarbones and down the man’s chest, like a crude field autopsy, peeling away the clothes that are sliced through as copper fills the air.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

charlie

"We really do." Charlie agrees, her voice bright and her tone syrupy sweet.  Panic had begun to set in, and as the man realized the full extent of just how badly he'd misjudged things, his eyes began to roll back into his head as if he might somehow be able to escape his own fate if only he could disappear into his own mind.  

Shifting, Charlie placed the man's head between her thighs to hold him still—no doubt at some point he'd envisioned himself there, no?—with her hands sweetly on his cheeks, smoothing down the sides of his mouth as he laboured for breath. Her knees pressed against the top of his shoulders, keeping him from flinching away too much as Asta made his first incisions. Not quite to the point of being feral that she couldn't appreciate the butcher's work, Charlie hummed her approval as she leaned forward, pressing her lips against their prey in an upside-down kiss. "They're all going to think you died a hero, you know that?" She purrs, before pressing her tongue inside of his mouth and finding, laughably, that his lips parted to allow it.

Smiling, her tongue rolled playfully against his, before her sharpened teeth snapped shut and the tip of his tongue was lost down the back of her throat.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya
Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

He tries to think back to the last time he’d shared a hunt like this with someone and somehow comes up empty, which makes it all that much more bittersweet to have Charlie here, playing such a perfect part. He leaves her to it, content to continue his cuts, driving the blade deeper the further down it goes, and before he knows it the man’s chest is bared to them, blood dripping off of the sides in a sickly sweet steam that Astaroth embraces wholly.

The blade lifts to run the sides along his tongue, lapping up everything he can from the metal, because now there’s nothing in the way of pure traditional teeth and hands. Something, in fact, that Astaroth gets to quite quickly compared to the slow descent into the bloodlust he’s gotten. This is where the butcher comes into play, hands coating in blood as he flays the man’s chest open, steam pouring into the open air, dark eyes flicking up toward Charlie and the other man’s head, wondering how long he’ll suffer through this.

But caring little in how he bites down on a piece of that flayed flesh and tears it away with his sharp teeth.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

charlie

The way the man's tongue squirms as its tip is removed has blood pooling into Charlie's mouth, and though she certainly has the capacity to make sure she doesn't spill a drop, she allows her lips to part so that it drips down her chin. Lifting her head, the priestess watches through hooded eyes as Asta works, silently marvelling at his skill and wondering if butcher was meant to be an ironic title given his clear finesse.

More than likely, it was a threat.

Ah, but then she sees the reason, and gods if it doesn't fill her with a dark delight. Stretching out a finger as Asta's eyes rise to meet hers, she brushes it adoringly across his cheek as her tail flicks cat-like, back and forth. Between her knees, the man is quickly losing consciousness as blood pools improperly in his chest and his beating heart is protected only by the proportionately poor defences of his rib cage. "You will never have a chance to make better choices, but just know that even if you had, we'd have taken you either way." Charlie whispers sweetly, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of the man's nose, leaving a rosette of her mouth in his own blood. "We're the better predators. We were always going to win." She assures him.

Another kiss is pressed to his cheek, before Charlie's teeth slice through the skin, tearing away a perfectly mouth-sized piece which revealed his lolling tongue within. The warmth of his flesh in her mouth combined with the way his jaw tries in vain to call out, to plead, to do anything at all, has the priestess's eyes darkening as she swallows delicately.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya
Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

Their eyes meet and she reaches out to leave that warm, sticky wet line of blood against his cheek, his bloodied grin sharp and wide as his eyes seem to grow darker as the tang fills the air and spills into the snow and hunger starts to bloom within his chest even further. He nearly shivers as he listens to Charlie’s purring tone, humming a note of agreement as he focuses on the exposed rib cage.

And what fragile things they are, given the way the bones connect to the sternum, especially with how exposed it is at present. It gives him the ample moment to start to pluck each rib from its cage, exposing the internals of lungs and the rest, before both hands dive straight into the chest cavity, dark gaze nearly swallowed whole as he offers his own purr of appreciation to their meal. Charlie’s show is a beautifully cruel one, paired with Astaroth’s meticulousness, hands deep in the man’s chest with blood painting his skin, he leans forward a bit in Charlie’s space but for the other man losing consciousness as well. “Make your peace, darling.” It’s a throaty purr, giving one second of watching the jaw flinch and twist in an attempt.

Satisfied enough, he plucks the heart from the man’s chest, offering it up to Charlie first as a gentleman might. Ladies first, and all that.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

charlie

For a moment the man's open chest pulses with life, his blood a dizzying garnet coating upon his broken bones and torn muscles, not unlike the vast rubies that coated the walls of Dygra's inner halls. As the Butcher's hands skillfully pluck away the last line of defence, the man's heart pumps fruitlessly as his blood pressure drops. Even then it continues, such was the way of men who were young and strong, and Charlie can't help but feel a delicious heat beneath her thighs to bear witness to the dying man's efforts to cling to life.

In the darkness it almost appears as though Asta's arms have been enveloped entirely by shadows, such is the colour of blood in the moonlight, and as he pulls free their victim's heart, offering it out to her, she offers him a look that's as coy as it is appreciative. "And here I thought I'd have to arm wrestle you for it." She laughs, utterly delighted.

Holding the heart reverently in her small hands, Charlie twists it gently before raising it to her lips and biting into the aorta. Her tongue wraps around the thick muscle as her sharp teeth clench down before sawing side to side such that as she pulls it away from her lips, it's a relatively clean cut. Sighing decadently, Charlie holds it out for Asta to taste before cupping one hand into the man's chest capacity and letting the blood slip from her palm over his face, not unlike a gravy over a particularly rare cut of meat.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya
Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!