07-03-2018, 09:28 PM
I'LL BE GOOD, I'LL BE GOOD
Bastille had never really stopped being an empath, even when he'd lost touch with his own emotions. Auras and existential matter simply spoke to him in a way that most other things did not, which was... well. Just what he was used to, frankly. He knew it was all a part of acting as host, and was also why the negative tones drew him harder than the rest. Grimm liked a sad story, and sad people offered the best ones. Sometimes Bastille wondered if he'd picked Bast just to hoard the fucked memories his souls could offer, and other times he decided that Grimm just had shitty lucky in hosts.
Major surges in the aura matter of his surroundings could attract him just as quickly as sorrow could, however, and he was there in a flicker -- teleportation, it was seem. His cold blue stare locked on the source of his curiosity, and he eyed the giant beast evenly as he gave an idle shrug. Suiteheart was already there, affirming that this happened often, and he chimed in with a lazy, "'M Bast." No point in asking him any other questions, seeing how she'd covered them all.
[align=center]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGSMajor surges in the aura matter of his surroundings could attract him just as quickly as sorrow could, however, and he was there in a flicker -- teleportation, it was seem. His cold blue stare locked on the source of his curiosity, and he eyed the giant beast evenly as he gave an idle shrug. Suiteheart was already there, affirming that this happened often, and he chimed in with a lazy, "'M Bast." No point in asking him any other questions, seeing how she'd covered them all.
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]