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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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// i get a toothache every time i lie to someone i love //
He can’t help the bark of a laugh that leaves him to hear her disgust. “Are you sure he did not wish to join in?” Asta asks with a raise of his brow, a shark tooth grin that aims more playful in response. He can imagine the surprise, though, and likely would have reacted just as sharply had Vox made an appearance while he was in the middle of it. However, he’s also come to realize that kind of surprise isn’t entirely one the Butcher would ward away.
“That is terrible, though. I am quite glad they are all gone.” He hums, finishing his glass of whiskey and pouring himself and adding a little more to Thalassa’s to top hers off. The whiskey burns down his throat, a lovely fire he can trail all the way down to his stomach. To hear the offer extend to Danta, Asta shoots her a playful smile again. “Perhaps. I shall talk it over with him and see what his opinion might be.” And obviously, he’d let her know.
Lightning cracks overhead again, the stretches of its fingers arcing across the sky.
Astaroth
// please just look me in my rotting smile and tell me i'm the only one you think of //
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Her eyes rolls, glad that he finds it funny. Time has allowed her to see some of the humor in it, but a chill still tingles along her spine just thinking of his voice in her mind, the way she'd taunted him and the ultimate outcome only months later when she'd been possessed by the infection.
Doing her best to ignore the lovely reminder she'd brought on herself, she pushes out a huff of forced laughter. "Anyone would've wanted to join in - and if he were anyone else - " Thal shrugs her shoulders, giving Asta a wicked grin that's a little more genuine when she recalls the rest of that sexcapade. Then the disgust reappears with a vengeance, her fangs bared at the thought of Vox being the third. "But I would've slit my own throat first."
She accepts the refill, nodding her passionate agreement before taking a long sip of her whiskey in hopes of washing the taste from her mouth - or the taint from her memory.
Looking up at the lightning, a smile slips back onto her face, equally playful in its demeanor. "I'll wait patiently for your response." As patient as the lightning that snaps across the sky.
Thal tilts her head back, blinking when the light flashes over them, just enjoying the echoes of thunder and silence for a moment before asking, "Any plans for Danta's birthday?"
Now you'll never see me cry
There's just no time to die
// i get a toothache every time i lie to someone i love //
To her forced laughter and her comment, the Butcher shoots her a shark-tooth grin with a nod of agreement. “Mm, do I understand that.” He hums, letting his chuckles drift away into the soft exhale of a sigh, though the smile remains. He refills their glasses, downing another sip of the whiskey and relaxes as it feels like it’s blooming in his chest like a slow motion firework.
Nodding as the plan is made to ask Danta to go and investigate the Oerwoud, Asta settles into a companionable silence as the lightning continues to crack overhead, illuminating them. Sicarius, at this point, has meandered her way toward a rather barren looking bush (one struck and torched by lightning, he’d imagine), where she prowls around it playfully, hopping on the needles of it that fall off with the movement of her body beneath it.
“Oh, many plans. The main one being a vacation.” He purrs, tearing his gaze away from Sicarius to Thalassa. “We are going to Halo for a little bit and I fully intend on treating him every ounce of every hour.” His grin brightens, excitement echoing through it to the content twitch of his tail.
Astaroth
// please just look me in my rotting smile and tell me i'm the only one you think of //
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
The alcohol eases some of the tensions memories had surfaced, her figure melting further into the blanket when the stress leaves. The lightning has become a comfort, the rumbling and flashes of light a constant source of danger she doesn't mind. It's better than the unknown threat lurking in the forest.
When Asta answers her question, Thal has lowered herself to lay completely flat, able to keep both him and the sky in her sights easily enough. "Vacations are good," she says, nodding her head until he reveals where he plans to have them visit. "Halo? Why there?" It's not exactly most people's first choice for 'relaxing,' especially not Ancients, where a few minutes too long out in the cold could render them statues.
Now you'll never see me cry
There's just no time to die
// i get a toothache every time i lie to someone i love //
The lightning is a wonderful little backdrop to the conversation they have – and Sicarius seems to care very little about it as it arcs overhead, and with the calm and cool air that streaks through, Asta sips from his whiskey again and lets it warm him up while he tells her where they intend to go on vacation. He knows it’ll spark a reaction, and when it does he looks over at her and hums a soft laugh.
“Because it is where I am from.” He explains, though when it comes to the mechanics of it, he’s prepared to explain as well. “He and I both have coats that keep us warmer in freezing temperatures. Courtesy of the Warden himself. He recently showed me what the auroras look like these days and Danta thought it might be nice to go and see them in person.” Now that they feasibly could.
Astaroth
// please just look me in my rotting smile and tell me i'm the only one you think of //
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Her head raises in a slow nod of realization, humming a note of apology. "I always forget that." While the history of Whitebrim and the cold climate still fits him, Thal has always known Asta in the Grounds with its abundance of Ancients and blood and rituals. The region - and more importantly, Danta - have made such a mark on him that she often forgets where he came from.
The explanation of magic jackets raises her eyebrows, lightning illuminating the interest in her gaze. "Sounds useful." Something she might have to consider if she ever plans to spend time up there. Something she nearly laughs at the thought of.
There's a suspicion that's been eating at her for years, based on whispered names and coincidences, and Thal purses her lips after taking a slower sip of her drink. "I haven't been up there much. Is the Warden a massive brute of a man?" She pictures the long hair and unruly beard of the tall man she's run into on multiple occasions, one who sparks ire in her veins.
Now you'll never see me cry
There's just no time to die
