is there a price to burn this paradise?
”Oh, yes. And you’re so threatening, Jata. Yes you are,” Ronin coos at his friend, a shit-eating grin on his face as he does that weird snake-thing with the tongue. Still, the Flood does not seem quite so apologetic at the bruises he’s given Ronin, and to be honest - with his next remark, he can’t really blame him. ”Well, yes. There’s that,” he says with a chuckle, offering a playful glare at the cobra and nudging his little fanged jaw shut, as if to wipe the smile off his face.
The wraps discarded now, Ronin gets back to his feet and seems perfectly content with his new accessory; he collects up his shirt - and Jata’s too - along with anything else they’ve brought with them, before heading for the door. ”Drinks at my place? I’ll be a gent and carry you up, since you went so tryhard today.” He cackles.
The wraps discarded now, Ronin gets back to his feet and seems perfectly content with his new accessory; he collects up his shirt - and Jata’s too - along with anything else they’ve brought with them, before heading for the door. ”Drinks at my place? I’ll be a gent and carry you up, since you went so tryhard today.” He cackles.
