⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝕶𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮.ᐟ

♔ ————————————— 𝙏𝒉𝒆 𝙆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝘩𝘦 𝑲𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝑺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝑰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

i hope so. i ain't always gonna be this gorgeous. ( nervous little laugh followed by a wince. never was good at the ego. ) still. yer doin' a service.

comes wit' the territory, darlin'. most men're compensatin' but . . you know that. y' cracked enough heads about it. but 'sbetter out there past the desert. more brilliant people like you an' me. but you gotta be a bastion here 'cuz one day another /me/ is gonna be —

c'mon. walk with me?

no excuses. we got combs.

he looks like a 24/7 lush. comb your hair, son.

her suffering was her armor. gradually it became her skin. then she could not take it off.

when are you performing next, king? i love hound dog!

fangirl screaming over the king.

fuckin hell i burnt it so bad

i quite like it. it's very unique, very recognizeable. there's a certain je ne sais quoi about it...

despite the somewhat disheveled and messy appearance, virgil was still born in a vault. the skin of his cheeks are soft even with the bits of a beard trying to grow on his jaw. virgil looked on in quiet shock, staring and feeling like a fish out of water. he does at least stop >

that it is. one of the biggest reasons i stick around freeside. it's . . hard out there. drives me crazy some nights. it's nice to come back to a place where peace can reign.

" i- i dunno if m'really doing a good job with it .. " both hands come up, clearly trying to rub and will away the growing blush. he's flubbed it. he's totally fumbled. " m.. maybe i just need p- practice? .. god, think that was worse, actually. "