05-04-2018, 12:01 AM
[div style="background-color: white; width: 100%; font-family: Georgia; color: #576a6e; text-align: center; margin: auto"]BASTILLEPAW AURELIUS ✧
the ascendants — kuiper corporal — tags
[div style="line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; color: black; padding-top: 10px; font-family: Georgia; text-size: 6pt"]the ascendants — kuiper corporal — tags
Bastille was a chaotic something, alright. He probably fell somewhere along the lines of good-neutral, but he tended to believe with his batch of souls, it was more likely evil. The only thing that one could be absolutely positive about was the "chaotic" portion. He did put thought into his actions, most of the time, it was simply that his train of logic tended to differ from others -- that, and he had such low regard for his own well-being that "danger" rarely factored into his plans when it came to himself. Others, sure; he could rattle off several considerations for keeping the people he likes safe and how to defend them as best as possible. Really, this situation was an example of both: Bast didn't care about himself; Margy was hungry; he'd rather that no one else be at risk. Low and behold, he was the best choice, by his own logic.
Okay, sure, there were other factors -- he had an extremely high pain tolerance, was not squeamish about the thought of sharing his blood, and had the fighting capability to get away from her if she lost control. Hell, he could teleport the fuck away if he wanted, even. See? He'd thought about it, for about 2 seconds, and then he'd sliced his arm open.
He hadn't really expected for the sudden uncontrollable hunger to erupt in Margy's aura, or for her gaze to go so... crazy, really. He'd expected a more civilized gesture of her daintily sitting next to him and sipping away. Her lunging at him like a maniac? Nah, not in the plans, but he braced himself for impact without much concern about this unexpected act.
He didn't brace himself for Suite's impact, though, and jerked in surprise as she shoved him away, his head snapping up in confusion and vague annoyance before he realized who it was. The bengal straightened himself up with a roll of his eyes, and huffed, "Well, that was a waste of me cutting myself open, then." He wondered idly if it was a possessive thing -- Suite would only let her wife bite her -- but was vaguely weirded out by that for several reasons. It is a delightful experience, Zaniel said suddenly in his thoughts, and he mentally smacked the idiot away with a hard NO. Nope. Gross, dude.
The corporal settled back, eyeing Margy idly, and figured he may as well just stick around to make sure Margy didn't murder Suite instead. That was still somewhat helpful, anyway.
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]