a.k.a. Lady Tarte. @original-astarte - Tumblr Blog

What are your top three tactics in torturing lower beings?

Seduction.

Emotion manipulation.

Poisons of various varieties.

What do you miss about the Lower?

Well, no offence to the delightful inhabitants of Necture, but I miss the exciting creatures of the Lower. They understood how to have a good time.

#asks #past #about

themarybethfoster-deactivated20

The compliment about her name being lovely made Mary Beth smile wide and blush slightly. She wasn’t used to compliments, so when she got them they always made her cheeks flush a light red, no matter who they came from, and made her smile from ear-to-ear without missing a beat. “Thank you,” she said softly and out of respect for receiving the compliment. “Astarte is a very lovely name as well.”

She watched as Astarte took a seat beside her and handed her the notebook back. Marybeth took the notebook from her gently and opened it back up slowly to look at the words she had written just a moment ago; 'Her name was'… “I’m not really sure what I was writing,” Mary Beth admitted with a nervous smile, “I was just writing something completely out of the blue that I hoped would become something. But I’m not sure about it. I have three words, but now I need to figure out a name…”

If there was one thing Mary Beth wasn’t particularly good at, it was coming up with names. She’d start listing off a million names before she found one she liked. So she turned to the next page and wrote at the top 'Female Names:'. Then she created a bullet point just below it and turned to Astarte and asked, “Do you know any good names?”

original-astarte

"Well," Astarte adjusted herself to see the blank page better, "I once knew a wonderful girl named Starshine," she looked to the girl for a reaction, "Delightful girl with pale blue hair. She had a propensity for illegal substances, but now she's stone cold sober," Astarte looked away for a moment and mumbled, "or stone cold dead," she looked back to Mary and returned to a normal volume, "I can't recall. We did lose touch after a while,"

They actually hadn't talked since the 70's, and Astarte didn't ever know her birth name or if she kicked any of her habits. She sincerely hoped she hadn't, but had the sad feeling she had.

#Mary

elizasteben-deactivated20151223

Seems like a pretty good option to me.

original-astarte

The man Astarte had motioned towards. wasn't half bad. He was a rugged drifter type (very common in Necture). He had obviously came into town without a destination and would soon be gone. He was a good target.

Astarte whispered her new companion, "Just follow my lead," she winked and started towards him.

It was then that Astarte perked up and adopted a new persona. Her walking style changed to more of a wander and her voice became absurdly higher, "Becka," she said (louder than needed) actually referring to her companion, attempting anonymity, "I can't believe how lost we are!" she said all this in a tone that nobody could take seriously, but in Astarte's experience, worked perfectly on unsuspecting men she wanted to play with.

#eliza

dahcon

tea time by the sea;;dahlia&open

The beach, it was a nice place to blow off steam. The sound of the waves hitting the shore were a nice contrast to the usual traffic of Main Street but now her sweatpants were covered in sand and Dahlia had trouble not letting the little things bother her at the moment. She attempted to wipe the sand from the palm of her hands without success. Another grunt, the day had been full of grunts, groans, and growls. A day so close to the edge, you wonder what’s the next step to push you over, what’ll make you give up for good?

She could make a living as a dental hygienist, it’d be boring but there were perks to the job….right? She racked her brain for something anything that’d make failing as a reaper okay…white teeth. If she continued her job, she’d almost have a grantee of white teeth for life. She lazily kicked the sand, how pathetic. Reaping was her life, in her blood, there was no way she could let falling behind hurt her pride. She had too much to be this fragile.

Another string of swear words, one of the few ways she could express her thoughts into words when she was in this mental state. She was complicated, proud but doubting. Two traits that were like water and oil. She reached up to rub her eyes but her attention snapped to approaching footsteps. She hadn’t moved her head to look, instead she rested her head on her knees. The last thing she needed was company, she was sure her attitude would be enough to chase them away but today she didn’t feel like going through the motions. Couldn’t a failing reaper just sulk next to the ocean like in a B-rated movie without any interruptions?

“Dude, whatever you’ve got to say, try again tomorrow…” Dahlia took a moment to look up at her company, prepared to shield her eyes from the sun but she hadn’t noticed it’d already set during the time she’d been sitting here. “..Dahlia’s busy and the answering machine is full.”

original-astarte

Much like the girl she would find on the beach, Astarte felt as if she had become a domestic excuse for a demon. Every day is the same awful oval of work to home without more than one act of chaos a week, and even when she did such, she never felt like her "heart" was in it.

She had a propensity to make her way to nature when she needed realignment. She would grab her painting equipment and find a subject to loose herself in.

Today's venture was to the beach. Astarte grinned at the frothy water that greeted her. she noticed another figure against the sand. Her immediate reaction was a groan. She loved to be around people, but recently she prefered to be alone.

Upon hearing the girl's apparent 'automatic message'; "Well, don't we think we are important," she started to set up her art set close to the girl (mainly to bother her), "Other people use nature to have existential crisis too," she looked out to the ocean for inspiration.

#dahlia

Visit Original Link

((i went to an Iggy Azalea concert 2 days ago and thought this song spoke to Astarte's character))

#music #about #iggy #iggy azalea #the new classic #fuck love

themarybethfoster-deactivated20

She got about three words written down into her notebook before someone came up to her and began talking. Quickly, so she wouldn’t appear rude, she lifted her head with a small smile on her face as she listened. Mary Beth nodded thoughtfully as the other woman suggested that she was a familiar face, but shook her head when she said she was new in town. “My name is Mary Beth,” she answered a little too softly as she placed her notebook on the ground beside her to stand and give her a gentle handshake. She wondered if the woman even heard her. “And I’m not new in town, I’ve lived here pretty much all my life,” she continued. “But I did leave for college for a few years, so that might explain the new face look.”

Mary Beth sat herself back down as it was almost an instinct and began to realize how rude she was being. She realized her notebook was still open and she knew that if she kept it open she’d want to keep looking down at it and filling it up between breaks in her having to speak. However, she didn’t know if her aunt was around to see her or if anyone would say anything about Mary Beth’s politeness toward this woman to her aunt. So she placed the pencil inside the notebook, where she was writing, and slowly closed it. She’d love it if she could just write, talk, and listen at the same time. But that wasn’t exactly the easiest thing for anyone to do. On top of that she’d been raised to give as much attention as she could to the other person speaking to her, it was only polite. “It’s great to meet you,” she said with a warm smile, hoping to make up for what she had just done.

original-astarte

"Mary," she said, more to herself than the girl, attempting to commit it to memory. She found that her eyes had wandered to the ground in concentration. Her eyes flicked back up to Mary, "What a lovely name," she complimented.

She noticed the girl closing the notebook, "Oh don't stop on my account," Astarte's hand placed itself on her chest, "Please do continue. You seemed so intent," he sauntered over and handed the book to here and took its place beside her.

"What were you writing about, before I rudely interrupted?" her head tilted in curiosity.

#mary

elizasteben-deactivated20151223

And I’ve always been pretty good at it, I believe we will make a good team

original-astarte

Well, why dont we start with him? *pointing to male passerby*

#can we switch to para?#eliza

mumuinfinity-blog

Terrence had one of those long days where he just felt restless. The air was stifling, the humidity so high and yet no rain came to break it; it left his skin feeling sticky and warm. Course when his cab needed a new compressor and all that blew out of the AC was hot air, no wonder he was in a sour mood. All day he kept looking at the clock that counted down the minutes till his shift was up, which was unfortunate since he could spend hours talking someone’s ear off in the damn thing. The local bar was his best bet for a nice time in a cool place with no responsibilities for the remainder of the night ahead. So when the time came, he locked up the car with the windows cracked just so and walked the short distance there. “Whatever stout you have on tap, thanks,” he had offered as the bartender came near and took a seat on one of the many open bar stools. Country music played from the classic looking jute box in the corner and though he grimaced at “Red Solo Cup” blaring out of it, Terrence was already feeling just a bit better by the minute.

original-astarte

Astarte's steady strut into the bar was stopped very abruptly by the twang of the music in the bar, "Richard?" she yelled to the barkeep, "How many times have I told you not to play this dribble in this establishment?"

This comment was met by a look of desperate gaze from Richard, who quickly rushed to a back. A moment later the music was replaced by a subtle classic rock tune.

Astarte's face relaxed as she took a seat next to a dark haired man and snapped, "My usual," she ordered. The usual she was referring to was a black cherry sangria. She sipped from the large bowl of a cup then glanced over to the man beside her and smirked.

#Terrence

themarybethfoster-deactivated20

Mary Beth sighed softly as she sat down on the front steps of her aunt’s porch and put her notebook and pencil in her lap. It felt so weird to be back “home”, but it was nice. Nice to be back in a familiar place again. A place where she hope she didn’t have to completely relearn all the ropes of the town. Pushing the thoughts to the side she opened up her notebook and took her pencil in her hand and began to think about what she could write down.

original-astarte

The cigarette let off smoke into the air in its familiar fashion. About as familiar as this girl's face. Astarte had seen this girl before, but she couldn't place her, but with the amount of people she'd seen in her life, this wasn't uncommon.

She let her cigarette fall to the ground. She didn't bother stamping it out. If the tree she was using for shade burst into flames, it was no problem of her's. That was something the family whose house was dangerously close to the tree would need to deal with.

"Hello, dear," she put on the best smile she could, "I seem to recognize your face, but I do believe you are new in town," she reached out her hand for a formal handshake, "I am Astarte, and you are?"

#Mary