(SE) sink into the wasteland underneath

ISAR

Arm yourself

"Ouch," he huffed softly, with a mock wounded expression, placing a long-fingered hand over his heart. "The lady is harsh. But alright. Challenge accepted." His answering grin was full of salacious promise, and only faded marginally at Astaroth's admonition. Sparing the taller man a second look, Isar considered the impeccable state of dress, the cane and the overall impression it affected. Maybe he should make a point of sticking to him; something might rub off that would please the sharp-eyed woman.

An odd gleam entered his eyes as Whitebrim was brought up. Nodding in slow understanding, he got a feeling that they would need a private conversation at some point. With Thalassa to overhear them it might be awkward - he didn't want to make her even more adverse towards him.

"Yes, do tell," he agreed instead, and went over to the rocks to make himself comfortable. He would never grow too old for a good story.

Because no one else here will save you

i don't belong among the angels // and baby that's just fine with me

Collecting the interest of Thalassa has Astaroth’s grin growing a bit wider, teeth sharp as he inclines his head, wind ruffling through the edges of his dark hair that’s very carefully slicked back behind his pronged horns. “Vastly different. No Skyships or skyboats, locations were closer. Halo hadn’t quite separated from the Draig as far as it appears to have.” He’s seen the new maps created from the shift of the last war, the changes over so many centuries of his stasis had been surprising to swallow.

“The people were quite different then, too.” Not nearly as advanced in terms of their comforts as they were now. Not that he’s complaining – he prefers the advancement that the regions have made, especially considering their ability to create such beautifully brilliant things. “There is one other that I know of, and he’s the Theocrat of the Hollowed Grounds.” The information is easy to offer, a casual shrug from a slim enough shoulder for how much he towers over the participants of the group. “Everyone else, however, could still be asleep or gone forever.” His shrug, paired with his too sharp grin, seems to suggest that he doesn’t care one way or another where they ended up.

He was here and Danta was here and realistically that’s all that matters.

Astaroth

the things i did up there were high school // but now i'm going for my degree

Life is tough my darling, but so are you.

At Isar's mock pain, she simply shrugs her shoulders. Thal never claimed to be kind. Although, she looks forward to seeing what kind of transformation Isar attempts. The mystery itself entertains her while she further assesses his messy hair and dark eyes as he approaches the rocks to sit next to her. Even if he plans to one day appeal to her, currently, she shifts slightly away from his form as if the ruggedness might rub off on her pristine black cloak. With a flick of her hair, she chooses to ignore him and give her full attention to Astaroth's words.

The idea that Caido could have been so different not too long ago, has her tilting her head in interest. Astaroth seems to her like a walking history book that she may actually be convinced to read. Thal continues to twist her dagger but looks to the older Ancient in more open curiosity. "Do you think more will awaken?" She likes to imagine that the Ancients could be quite the intimidating force if there were more of them.

Another thought comes to mind, and she asks quietly, "How were we treated in the old days?" There is a suspicion that tells her she already knows the answer, however, she lets Astaroth answer nonetheless.

Thalassa