Wayland
He/Him
Twenty-Eight
March Twenty-First
Vermillion City
Heterosexual
League Turncoat
Eh
Should I bite my tongue, until blood soaks my shirt?
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KING WAYLAND
linger [c]
POSTED ON May 19, 2022 3:32:02 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","king"]
he reigns back on his own visceral reactions, settling the caged animal inside as it rattles against the bars. [break][break] "there's no savin' this hellhole," he whispers out, taking a deep breath quickly to drown it out. king mulls her next statement, pausing to consider the implications. what she described was no different than mind-control and he makes a mental note to bring it up with Lulu Flint next time he sees the crazy mother fucker. [break][break] "ye, but yer compulsions wouldn't have led ye here considerin' we knocked it clean out of ye. perhaps the compulsion fades with time, or maybe it's weaker er some shit the more will a person has." again - out of his wheel house. but, talking it out might help her. [break][break] "saw them, ye. nasty scars that. still, nothing to mine." he bumps her shoulder, grinning, before stabbing at another piece of egg.
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