copycat

// you've got your finger on the trigger //

It’s still quite dark out, thanks to LongNight, and with it the cold continues to creep in. But despite everything, Astaroth is warmed by the question he has poised on the tip of his tongue, and helped by the fire that he keeps close to his chest on the trek to the Temple.

Pushing through the doors and promptly closing it behind him, shaking out any of the snow that may have stuck to his clothes, he relishes in the warmth already emitting from the Temple as he goes to speak. “Charlie, my dear, do you have a moment to spare?” He asks, drifting in deeper and allowing his dark eyes to adjust to the light within as well as any decor she may have added since the last time Astaroth had been here.

He waits patiently, pulling his gloves off and folding them slightly, sticking them into the pocket of his coat.

Astaroth

// but your trigger finger's mine //

they say I did something bad, so why's it feel so good?

With a whimsical wall of flame following everywhere she went, it wasn't hard to spot the Temple's pint-sized priestess even as she wandered through the empty halls. Thanks in large part to the Butcher, the Temple was wonderfully empty of any indications that it had once been used for worship which allowed the blonde's imagination to run wild.

"For you?" Knowing the sound of Asta's voice, as Charlie spun on her heel to face him, her face was already beaming with joy. "Always!" Had she anything in her hands she might have immediately dropped them in favour of giving the Butcher the entirety of her attention.

Dressed in leather pants (from what animal one might wonder) and a white blouse, the priestess let the flames around her move to encapsulate them both. The Temple was warm of course, but what ancient didn't enjoy being hot ?

// you've got your finger on the trigger //

The grin broadens at her answer, finally finding the short priestess and immediately drifting over toward her with the easy encouragement offered by the swaths of fire she offers. It’s relieving in the face of the cold of LongNight and Deepfrost in turn, but he harbors no thought beyond that as he reaches for her arm, bending toward her to greet her properly, lips pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand. “I had an idea.” He starts to say, withdrawing and offering her that same sharp grin.

“I have been speaking with Dygra and I am making her a new shrine. Closer than the Black Lake.” Cocking his head and squinting enough to let the lines of his crows feet darken with the flickering flame, he pauses obviously for dramatic effect. “I was thinking we could put it here, but despite you being our priestess I did want to confirm that it was okay with you.” A perfect spot for the perfect priestess he’s ever met in his lifetime. A certain closeness with their goddess that he thinks she will be all too excited for.

Astaroth

// but your trigger finger's mine //