05-11-2018, 12:15 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 the heir to destruction. Honestly, there was not much else he could amount to -- he had three souls worth of failure to use as reference and, frankly, he was aware of the inevitable. He just didn't really care if he was damned to hell or not; he had accepted it so long ago that it no longer phased him. He was focused on just carrying on until everything went up in flames, honestly.
He was a few paces behind Suite, and noted with idle amusement that she behaved how a Guardian was supposed to -- she gave her name, her title, engaged so thoroughly. Bastille barely even remembered to give his name to joiners half the time, and when he did it usually was just a nickname. Beyond that? You'd catch him dead before you caught him actually acknowledging his rank, let alone using it in introductions.
He felt Grimm's prickle of interest at the address, the foreign place -- or was it the name of the group, not the location? There was a story there, and there was a brief temptation to pursue it, but instead Bast supplied, "I'm Bast. What's your usual body?" Might as well figure out what they were looking for before they tried to provide solutions.
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]