An Odd Church

"Oh nah, I went on a whole trip. That's why I'm in here counting my drugs. Far more exciting than the mud and uh...bird. Out there." Adam commented, looking back to the little stack on the bench again and moving to put his things back in their sack, not wanting to lose any. He didn't need to guess much to work out what question he'd answered with the positioning of his legs; Adam grinned and now that the point was made, crossed his legs over the back of the chair instead. There would be no suspense if he sat with the reveal for a long time; she had to see glimpses until she simply couldn't resist and ripped his clothes off, which he was sure would happen in the next ten minutes. "I definitely did call it sparky shit." He responded with a laugh. He'd never had much respect for anything that was meant to be respected, whether it was Kings or Gods or magic powers. With a flourish Adam pulled a gun from his hip, twisting the silver pistol in the air so the light could catch each bit of careful, intricate engraving (flowers and vines, weaving around the handle) and small gemstones in it. "No, with these. Give me any target and I can clear it." adam Mistreat your Altar Boys long enough and this is what you get Sad and angry... can't learn how to behave Still won't know how in the darkness of the grave