it's a beautiful lie
Sidling behind the bar like an old hand - because he is, at this point, and his eldest brother would be very proud - Neron sheds his coat and scarf and hangs them up on a nearby hook, rolling his shoulders to the elbow and leaning against the counter. "Gods, Sunjata, keep up with the times," he drawls, knocking on the bar as if to ask the other man what he wants at barely-awake o'clock.
"Morgan is dead. Got killed by Remi Taliesin, not that the Old Gods crew will have you believe it, but I saw it with my own eyes." And he'll fucking stand by that lie for as long as he lives. "Noah and Deimos wasted no time in taking over Halo. They kicked me out under pain of arrest, though I don't know what they thought I could have done wrong this time." What, indeed.
"So here I am, a pretty little face for a pretty little bar. Aren't you lucky?"
"Morgan is dead. Got killed by Remi Taliesin, not that the Old Gods crew will have you believe it, but I saw it with my own eyes." And he'll fucking stand by that lie for as long as he lives. "Noah and Deimos wasted no time in taking over Halo. They kicked me out under pain of arrest, though I don't know what they thought I could have done wrong this time." What, indeed.
"So here I am, a pretty little face for a pretty little bar. Aren't you lucky?"
it's a perfect denial
such a beautiful lie to believe in
NERON
