Mateo
champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between
and most things in between
He's only gone and done it again.
Mateo doesn't remember what it was - ThirdEye mixed with Snapdragon, maybe, except it was that really really good Snapdragon that he'd cultivated a few months before, the stuff that's stronger than it has any right to be - but either way, it has fucked. Him. Up.
There's not a crowd forming per say, because that would imply that Mateo is making a scene, and whilst he likes to do so at almost every opportunity, he does prefer to die quietly, as they say. And so the night finds him slumped against a wall in an alleyway in the Silk Houses, head lolling, mascara running down his hollowed cheeks.
Is this how he dies? Nah, probably not. He just needs a couple minutes for his heart to stop hammering out of his chest, and for the world to climb down out of the sky. Heh, get it? Because Stormbreak is up in the sky?
With numb fingers, he reaches up to rake his hands through curls as unruly as one father's and as dark as the other's, his blue eyes rolling back in his head as he contemplates climbing down the Grotto and just... letting go.
Mateo doesn't remember what it was - ThirdEye mixed with Snapdragon, maybe, except it was that really really good Snapdragon that he'd cultivated a few months before, the stuff that's stronger than it has any right to be - but either way, it has fucked. Him. Up.
There's not a crowd forming per say, because that would imply that Mateo is making a scene, and whilst he likes to do so at almost every opportunity, he does prefer to die quietly, as they say. And so the night finds him slumped against a wall in an alleyway in the Silk Houses, head lolling, mascara running down his hollowed cheeks.
Is this how he dies? Nah, probably not. He just needs a couple minutes for his heart to stop hammering out of his chest, and for the world to climb down out of the sky. Heh, get it? Because Stormbreak is up in the sky?
With numb fingers, he reaches up to rake his hands through curls as unruly as one father's and as dark as the other's, his blue eyes rolling back in his head as he contemplates climbing down the Grotto and just... letting go.
I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
