03-23-2018, 11:37 PM
BASTILLEPAW AURELIUS ✧ ascendants — fireball — tags
[div style="background-color: #e3dfdf; border: 1px black solid; width: 500px; line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; margin-top: -1px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; color: black; padding: 10px; text-size: 10px"]Bastille could come off as a bit apathetic and prickly, sometimes. He wasn't the most social of guys, and the more frequently his souls bothered him, the grouchier he got. It wasn't that he was particularly harsh, but rather that he tended to lack social tact or just didn't care enough to dress up his words all nice and pretty. He was very to the point and blunt, usually with a filthy mouth to muddle things up and make him seem angrier than he actually was. In reality, he was usually pretty damn nonchalant and calm, not too excitable. Only things that truly angered him could disrupt his general disposition.
That being said, he had a weak spot for kids. It was... interesting. He wasn't great with them, and didn't always like them too much (such as when they were loud, or annoying), but still. Bastille had a sort of protective instinct towards those who were vulnerable, the natural inclination to defend; he was pretty quick to warm up to little ones, even if he rarely admitted it. (It's not like anyone was ever inquiring, anyway.)
As he arrived on the border, his ice blue gaze skimmed over HD before focusing on the kitten, a scowl emerging. There was a second scent lingering in the air, a clear indication that someone else had just left, and Bast sent a deadly glare towards the tree line. Honestly, what the fuck? Ditching your kid on some foreign border? What if they hadn't been peaceful? What a fucking douchebag.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath, before reminding himself that there were more important things to focus on at the moment. Namely, a forsaken child. He swiveled toward the girl, looking her over first to determine if she was injured, before he forced his posture to relax. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted, voice lacking the usual rough edge to it, "I'm Bastille. You can call me Bast, if you want. Do you want to come up to the observatory and tell us where you came from?"
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]