#deadtrail

Argenti noticed that initial hesitation, but refused to retract or gloss over how pleased he'd been at the number of boxes he'd stamped. It felt like a little glimpse into Boothill's mind and personality - though he was certain there remained more, even to what he'd seen. The facets within a fire opal only caught the light at particular angles, after all.

There was a conscious pinpoint to how Cheesetopia acted with its visitors. Whether they brought glee to the soul, the greed and ambition in their eyes, or how there were certain methods that would crop up in terms of behavior. Moments like this was happened to be a more idle brand of recon, the sort that opens alongside a good refueling while preparing for inevitables.

A road such as his was paved with the defeated. Such a gargantuan force would have coattails eager to turn into blades.

The baritone that rumbles briefly in his ears catches his attention as he tilts his head away from his Nitro-Fuel. The sheen of the newly improved lights modestly reflects off the dark shades of Calydon's very own Lighter. What he witnessed was a character who managed to bring presence. For the hot-blooded atmosphere such as the Outer Ring, needless to say that was more than enough to warrant attention. That cybernetic form they don spoke more than enough, it spoke of not just a legend, but a surviving man.

The Lone Star. As he'd internally dub him.

Lighter's perspective on the other hand leveled to a brand of intrigue. It wasn't all too often that someone not eager to carve their name approaches him. While it wasn't 'disarming', a change of momentum only added to the refreshment of Cheesetopia's newly gained splendor. In response, a gloved hand would bring up his mug from where he sits, allowing the slosh of fizzy bubbles to spill just a touch over the rim. He owed it not just the patrons, but the owner to ensure an amiable note is always retained.

"I'd be besmirching Cheesetopia's good name otherwise."

"C'mon. This place needs some more good memories to add to the shine." From his position, Lighter didn't intend to make his own presence the sort to prevent others from enjoying the simple things. Duty didn't drag itself in with leisure. And right now? They were simply two men gaining a touch of reprieve from the unforgiving kiss of the sun outside.

"And time is a bit of a luxury right now."

      "  SOMETIMES,  WHENEVER  SIOBHAN  ISN'T  LOOKING      during my shift down at dreamjolt holstery, i tend to mix weirder stuff like  gunpowder with the heavier drinks to see if it would hit me harder.     i think     ONE     of them accidentally drank an extra shot i made for myself     &     liked it     (  ...  )      now i can't tell anyone i put something like that in drinks.     but it's good, i could whip it up  for you some time.  "

sharp  tendrils  come  to  grip  the  cotton  surrounding  the  edges  of  his  ear  &  tug  it  off  his  head  ;  humidity  &  heat  dispersing  through  the  mop  of  hair  on  his  head  .  pink  pigmented  crimson  curls  flit  upwards  ,  some  sticking  to  his  temple  ,  &  others  flattened  from  his  hand  -  knitted  beanie  made  by  his  dear  momma  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  fumbles  with  the  heart  sewn  onto  the  right  cranium  ,  making  sure  he  hadn’t  accidentally  loosened  the  string  at  all  (  he  hates  to  bother  his  ‘ma  fussing  over  this  little  thing  )  .

after  briefly  making  sure  he  hadn’t  ruined  a  perfectly  good  weft  stitched  hat  ,  he  neatly  tucked  it  into  the  hem  of  his  pocket  ,  thick  digits  coming  to  palm  the  wetness  of  his  hair  .  his  ears  were  not  exempted  from  being  messy  ;  fur  sticking  out  in  varying  angles  across  his  pointed  appendages  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  glides  his  fingers  through  his  hair  ,  nostrils  flared  as  he  dispels  the  air  wedged  within  the  hollow  caverns  of  his  lungs  ,  quirking  a  protruding  thick  brow  at  the  man  who  proclaimed  to  be  a  mechanic  .

❝  yeah  …  i  am  .  called  in  regards  to  …  ❞  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  narrowed  his  eyes  onto  the  man’s  name  tag  ,  flitting  upwards  to  his  face  .  tawny  colored  skin  wrinkled  around  his  maw  ,  fixing  lips  at  an  angle  .  quite  a  face  for  a  mechanic  ,  but  he  wasn’t  one  to  judge  appearances  .  ❝  —  the  vehicles  we  had  er  —  rented  out  .  ❞  he  cleared  his  throat  ,  jugular  bobbing  as  he  palmed  the  width  of  his  neck  ;  messing  with  the  baby  hairs  starting  at  the  base  of  his  skull  .

  ❝  me  ‘n’  th’  boys  kinda  …  thought  it’d  b’  fun  to  ram  em’  together  …  cool  setup  for  the  music  video  ,  y’  know  ?  ❞

yone  absolutely  made  him  be  the  one  to  set  up  this  appointment  (  granted  they  pulled  sticks  &  he  ended  up  getting  the  fucking  shortest  —  kayn  was  a  sliver  of  an  inch  away  of  being  the  one  to  do  this  )  .  &  straight  up  explain  everything  &  how  the  hell  did  their  trucks  get  so  badly  damaged  .  shiny  shoulders  roll  backwards  ,  evidently  uncomfortable  with  speaking  further  about  it  .

❝  look  ,  i’m  payin’  outta  pocket  ,  but  y’  gotta  lemme  in  on  the  damages  .  ❞  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  flicked  a  thumb  abreast  of  him  ,  pointing  to  the  vibrantly  colored  vehicles  ,  some  dismembered  of  parts  ,  missing  mirrors  ,  wrinkled  colored  panels  …  &  probably  other  damages  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  didn’t  wanna  think  about  addressing  directly  .

" I heard you were looking for me ? " from Boothill's modern verse to heartsteel Sett :3 the mechanic and part time guitarist at your service ( @deadtrail )

“Oh, I never once said I didn’t like you, Mr.Boothill…” the tone of his voice seemed pleasant enough; though it was clear to most that with the way the Halovien spoke—he had been masking his intentions though sweet tones and featherlight words. Fingers gently woven together as they rested on his own lap as he sat, the feathers on his head shifting with a light flutter before closing and nestling behind his ears.

His distaste for the mechanical cowboy could be apparent—However, sometimes you had to play your cards right. Sometimes you had to deal with the riff raff and use them to get what you wanted—or to get your point across, at least.

A smile stretches upon his features. “I understand your hostility. But what I don’t understand is your reason for finding me and telling me such a thing. Do you enjoy wasting your time?” His left leg shifts to cross over his right, hands moving to adjust before resting on his lap once more. There was not much that Boothill could do for him, Sunday’s patience waning the longer he was in the presence of this insolent fool.

“Is that all you came here for?…If you don’t mind, I would like to get back to work. I have far more important things to attend to.” He had wasted enough time.

" i am NOT yer' FATHER "

╰ the song of achilles ━ accepting

❝ and when could that have possibly been ? ❞

a dark brow raises at the other's statement, curious about what he meant. this so called boothill is someone he has never seen in his life before, and while faces often bled together in his mind, it was obvious that he wasn't someone so easily forgotten. besides, his aesthetic choice and outfit was so drastically different than anyone else's that mydei would've surely remembered him. amber hues stare at him a little longer in the hopes of drawing some recognition, only to come up empty.