#blondie answer.

"then i's pro'lly somethin' ye shoul' listen t', eh? if it ain't leavin' ye, there's a reason." he nods a bit with one of those half glances that doesn't really meet their gaze when it comes back from bouncing off to the side a little. "what're ye gettin' this feelin' 'bout? anythin' i can help with?"

hello darkness my old friend plays behind him, but of course he's the only one that can hear it. inner monologue type shit. he just stares at her. the writer is giggling like a fool, but blondie is staring directly at her, leant back in his seat with that expression of pure unamusement on his face. "it's cause a' the band." his arms fold. "but what if i was blond? would it make any difference?"

they'd had to leave before authorities showed up, but now he's going to have to do a ton of paperwork and carry the guilt of lost lives. "tell me it ain't reasonable t' hide away in m' apartment fer the next three years."

"ye and ah both know that is nae true." but he's not upset at all, not even behind the grin that he plasters on his face that falls as he works instead on chewing on the scallop he'd popped into his mouth right before she'd spoken. "ye've also got eyes on xeph, her boytoy wot ah'm pretty sure wants t' kill me, prob'ly in a way involvin' m' pants down, and that white haired bloke 't comes out here e'ry so often." he finally looks up at her across the little table set up on the almost too-vast deck at the back of the honeyfare house, overlooking the pink sandy beaches and crystalline waters beyond. lunch, calm and pleasant, even with the topic at hand, because somehow, he's found himself involved with each one of them as well, aside from xephyr's daddy. blondie uses his fork - delicate, golden with porcelain accent at the end decorated in rococo flowers - to offer allie a piece of his perfectly roasted sweet potato. "do like 't ah'm first on yer list, though."

"ah'm glad ye think so, love."

"ah know," he whispers, and it's barely audible beyond that small space between them where his forehead is pressed tightly to hers. his hands cradle the fae's visage, there around her cheeks to tilt her head up towards himself as he also leans to meet her, holding the bulk of that burden in the tight tension in the muscles wrapping about his spine. "there is nae much ah can do t' change what ah gotta do. keeps the lights on." he chuckles a little before he separates just enough to look into her eyes. "ah will nae be gone long. ah promise. ye trust me, right?"

FULL NAME: angus "blondie" patrick hyland OCCUPATION: second in command of the watchdogs AGE: 60 HEIGHT: 6'7 GENDER: cisgender male SEXUALITY: demisexual [will not engage without romantic interest / bond] CURRENT LOCATION: constantly moving with a home base in valentine, nebraska ETHNICITY: scottish-irish [whiter than paper] DOB: 30 december 1965 PARENTS: hamish hyland & annalisa hyland SIBLING(S): sweeny hyland [deceased, younger brother] CHILD(REN): none RELATIONSHIP STATUS: in a relationship with allie fleur -> @enchaentales or eden luna -> @moonpehtals dependent on interactions LANGUAGES: english, gaelic, asl, bsl, russian, polish, dutch, etc... he knows a lot RELIGION: believes in the gods that are responsible for his existence [fenrír & nimue & wraith] SCENT: desert sermons by tuskovat -> sumac, calamus, chamomile, petitgrain, honey cake, desert's sun, dokha tobacco, butterfly bush, envelope stamp, acacia, amyris, amber, incense, sandalwood, hojari resin, musk ATHLETICS: used to play rugby recreationally, but hasn't really done many sports since; still works out in the gym and does cardio regularly BODY TYPE: muscled, athletic, in shape EYES: forest green with an occasional crimson shift TATTOOS: see this post! PIERCINGS: both of his earlobes are pierced twice and he wears simple silver studs in them, his tongue is pierced with a silver bar, below the belt piercings SOCIAL MEDIA: he's off-grid; he's never made any form of social media and never will SMOKING: occasionally, but it's more likely to be a vape and only in times of heavy stress DRINKING: rarely, but when done it's in excess for his capability because his medication makes him a lightweight HOBBIES: he really loves legos and will buy little sets to put together to keep himself calm; reading, journaling, cooking, and his 'silly gun collection' VIRGIN: absolutely not, that man is a freak FAVOURITE COLOUR: dark forest green FAVOURITE DRINK: he's an unironic fan of water, and since flavoring packets / liquids came out, he's been even weirder about it; he always has a bottle somewhere around and while he's more likely to have a reusable, he does still partake in plastic on occasion just in case he loses it or something FAVOURITE FOOD: he really, really likes curries of all kinds and will be extremely happy to eat any kind from any culture FAVOURITE MUSIC: black metal, obviously, but he also really likes blondie, obviously, but also he likes just about everything and though he doesn't hone in on many specific styles / artists, he will enjoy anything that plays when he hands over the aux cord CLOTHING STYLE: he typically wears long sleeves primarily to cover the tattoos up and down his arms, but he also often rolls them up when things start getting warm which happens often because he's a pyrokinetic; tactical, work or cargo pants are typically favored over jeans for the flexibility they have and storage [man understands the need for pockets, ladies]; his shoes are more often in the boot variety, specifically tactical or combat, but he does have a few pairs of converse and other sneakers that he wears occasionally

"heh — baby, if ye were a worm, i'd pick ye up off a' the street after it rained t' put ye in a li'l jar and keep ye ferever." then he twists it on her. "would ye love me if i were a worm?"