RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
Yeah, fuck you man, is what Ronin thinks about both Angry soup and the bouncers trying to call the cops on him. They've no idea who the fuck they're dealing with (is what he tells himself) but from the outside, an irate Irishman wrapped in leather is probably precisely the sort of guy who belongs in a squad car. And so with a very friendly arm around him, he weaves his way off down the street, tossing a lazy salute over his shoulder to the crowd.
It's a nice stroll, actually, and Ronin is leaning against Bandcamp probably a little more than would normally be necessary, and he lists off to one side when he's released. His lips part to say something - thanks or that would be a good mammary or is that a guitar in your hand or are you just happy to see me - but then there are a gaggle of scantily clad fans that the musician doesn't want to go home with.
The look on Ronin's face suggests that the other man is fucking insane, and he almost points to where one of the girls' nipples pop out from her chest like god damned headlights. Almost. "Uh... yeah..." is what he says instead, much to the disappointed awwwwws of all.
It's a nice stroll, actually, and Ronin is leaning against Bandcamp probably a little more than would normally be necessary, and he lists off to one side when he's released. His lips part to say something - thanks or that would be a good mammary or is that a guitar in your hand or are you just happy to see me - but then there are a gaggle of scantily clad fans that the musician doesn't want to go home with.
The look on Ronin's face suggests that the other man is fucking insane, and he almost points to where one of the girls' nipples pop out from her chest like god damned headlights. Almost. "Uh... yeah..." is what he says instead, much to the disappointed awwwwws of all.
show me your darkness.
