all things end

Mateo

Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

Mateo, thank you very much, has informed his sister that if she wants to learn how to pilot properly, it would be silly of him to offer her any real help - and not only because he'd be next to useless even if he tried. Besides, it's fucking hot out here, the botanist lounging on the bench beside her with the full intention of topping up the tan he'd obtained out in Torchline over the past couple of seasons. Shirtless and in a pair of pink wayfarer sunglasses, the dark pendant sparkles ominously against his olive skin, though it matches well with the silver nipple piercing he's recently obtained, if he does say so himself.

"Did he?" He cackles, peeking down at the necklace over his glasses. "Never worn god-whore level jewellery before. Nice." Rolling to sit up and stretch as he feels Flora angle them downward, Mateo reaches below the bench to draw out a pair of sleek, dark brown leather gloves, slipping them onto his hands and flexing his fingers. He might only be in a pair of lotus flower shorts and flip-flops, but he doesn't fuck around with handling dream cactus barbs.

"You got it," he trills, grabbing the ladder and tossing it over the side of his ship, before tipping his sister a wink and hoisting himself over the side. "Do not miss me too much while I am gone, okay?"

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm