𝙠𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙙 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧

𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐬 𝐤𝐨𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐬 | ꓄ꃅꍟ ꀘꈤꀤꁅꃅ꓄ —𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨.

Twin Peaks muse? Prolly agent cooper.

he’s shrugging, twiddling his thumbs. he doesn’t know any different. frightening? sure. but he can handle frightening. death curse? well, if he knew about it, yeah he’d be a little scared.

shifting from a kneel into legs crossed, though he’s ever careful not to damage his armor as he clinks and clanks until he’s settled down, just looking around and observing the change in scenery. “neat trick.”

kneeling down in front of her, far closer than he should’ve been, level-eyed as she remains on all fours in front of him.

“lovely company as ever.” sarcastic, staring.

oh yeah, this account exists. comeback soon, maybe. maybe not.//

helmet has grown with rust… seems he’s been away longer than he would have liked. …fervently polishing…

dark, fog occluding tarhos as he sits upon a stump nearly completely bare chested, bandaging himself from wounds across his back and arms. it would seem the blood moon provoked blood to be shed from more than just survivors.

… i do not see why not.

jumping slightly, nearly startled at first, but quickly settling back down, looking down at the android.

“and get this hideous pig’s blood on my armor? I’m not a butcher. this is reserved for trials.” he spoke, somehow considering himself above the slaughter of animals, but not survivors.

the sarcasm goes flying over his head, nodding. “just…sweep it up or something. it’s a pigsty. no offense.”