Neron
the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen
longing to be seen
Garish, or great? Neron smiles at that, shrugging casually and gazing over the pretty ice flowers in the frosted glass of gin. "Well, I would say this is pretty great," he confirms. "But then, I chose to do this, I wasn't requested to. It makes a difference." With a wink, he straightens back up from the bar - only to visibly stiffen at the mention of the Eirachi, however butchered her name.
"Well, I wish I were surprised," he murmurs. "That does seem like the sort of thing she would try to do. I hope someone fixes Torchline soon." And he means it, too. Just like he means what he says next, and the fanged smile reappears then, at least.
"Oh, I'll be here, fighting. I've stared death in the face enough times that I'd feel cheated if I were tucked up in a bed somewhere when it finally came for me," he says. "And you? Will you be defending Torchline's shores?"
"Well, I wish I were surprised," he murmurs. "That does seem like the sort of thing she would try to do. I hope someone fixes Torchline soon." And he means it, too. Just like he means what he says next, and the fanged smile reappears then, at least.
"Oh, I'll be here, fighting. I've stared death in the face enough times that I'd feel cheated if I were tucked up in a bed somewhere when it finally came for me," he says. "And you? Will you be defending Torchline's shores?"
sometimes the soul
has days like these
has days like these
