born with salt on my skin
Good question. Good fuckin’ question. Maybe I didn’t explain it properly. So I open my mouth to try again, but the spirit is off the shrine and growing taller, fixin’ me with it’s still too-bright eye. I stall. What do I want? To run Torchline myself? Seems like a shitload of work, even though it forever grinds against me that there’s an Outlander as Gov’ner. “I - I’ve always been happy with m’bar.” And it’s true, I love the Hanged Man, I’m happy with what I do every night. But being recognized has its downfalls.
“I - yes. And no. Are you asking if I want to be Governor of Torchline?” Because that’s what it sounds like. An’ I just want to make sure we ain’t talkin’ hypotheticals.
and the sea in my blood
RAZA
