i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
Pleased, I'm sure; pleased wasn't often the adjective people chose to describe Rigby. He shook his head lightly, taking the cigarette between his thumb and index finger and holding it at his side. The smoke spiraled up until a breeze flew by, flicking some of the ash to the ground and dispersing the little cloud.
Then mention of the Ark, the band of smugglers and their beloved ship. Every year there was a flock to watch the crew be on their way, and where there were crowds, Rigby was either far away or watching from the sidelines. "I'd be boat rat then wouldn't I?" he replied, dark eyes drawing back up to Milo. "Me and captain Jack don't get along anyway," he added; last time they'd met the man had thrown a rock at Rigby's head.
Then mention of the Ark, the band of smugglers and their beloved ship. Every year there was a flock to watch the crew be on their way, and where there were crowds, Rigby was either far away or watching from the sidelines. "I'd be boat rat then wouldn't I?" he replied, dark eyes drawing back up to Milo. "Me and captain Jack don't get along anyway," he added; last time they'd met the man had thrown a rock at Rigby's head.
RIGBY
