The serrated blade bit into flesh. He pulled at the sides of the wound and forced it wide open. Ropes of intestines were cut free and braided into an elaborate design and connected so that it made a wreath. Taking hammer and nail, he aimed true and hammered a place to mount the wreath on her door. Once secure, he hung the wreath and wore a lopsided smile before grabbing the corpse he had used by the leg and dragging it away.
Consequence was by no means sane, by no means squeamish.
Indifference was her best friend.
N e u t r a l i t y coursed her starlit veins.
There was very little in the realms of what qualified as gore or carnage that would even come close to unsettling her. But that would never mean she grasped the use of it or that she understood fully the reasons people did what they did to one another --- though being the neutral party she was, in reality, offered a pleasant numbness to as much. Thus returning home, or her make-shift home rather, to find a wreath that was created from braided intestine was indeed something that caught her off guard. Her eyes were trained on the mess of blood and other innards that lay on the doorstep before flicking her dark hues up to her door. The wreath was hanging precariously and dripping viscera along the decaying paint job in reckless lines; if it were not for her relations with Gluttony, it may have struck some sort of nerve for her. And yet, there was a scant degree of reaction. The Ideology was uncertain of even that, if honesty was to be met.
Slender fingers with warm gold flesh stretched across bone rose to almost touch the offering, but even then their distance was several inches away. With a careful whiff of the air that surrounded her, she recognized the familiarity of Astaroth's scent as it mingled with the bloodshed that had taken place, she could only guess, was moments before. The faintest and fleeting trace of a smile came and went upon her visage as she internally shrugged it off save for the sentiment in the gesture. Not to mention, she had her doubts that Gluttony would mind the somewhat horrific decoration upon their door.
"S'pose I'll have to come up with something in return," the words fled her lips in a quiet mumble as she stepped past the threshold and into her home, a hand patting briefly a spot of clean upon the door beside the mess.
