@weishaupts asked: why are you looking at me like that ? / THE DUSTY TOYBOX: still accepting.
Forget that! "Sakra, did you just clobber him?"
She probably did! -- but to his credit, his thoughts whirring with the ground strewn far above his head, he is too dazed and too throttled to properly tell. Why, just a second ago, unfortunately, he had been in what Sir Emmrich would label a rather vigorous conniption. See, some bastard had raved about the refugees, that bedraggled, hungry push of such miserable wretches, and riled, his heart but the size of a fifth-month solstice, Hal, come from Skalitz, threw his fist. Maker, and how he ate it, obviously, with the bastard about the size of a far off mountain, but as he ogles this girl with a storm in her eyes?
Not her. Fuck. His wires crossed, his brain wrests with horrified and aroused and picks horribly aroused. "Guh. I'm gonna feel that come morning... Before you start, he had it coming." Can you pick me up?
