#faeriesforce

      “To be fair, sir Laguna, I wouldn’t fist fight Squall’s father, let alone the president of Esthar.”

The man he’s made to entertain with his mere presence and silence loosely reminds him of an OLD NEMESIS and comrade. That carefree nature, that casual way of talk that may very well be the DEATH of the other, as Sephiroth so predicts for Zack Fair. His brows furrow when his attention is once more stolen ( or attempted to be ) by the bundle of WORDS. He glances from the corners of his eyes, though it may seem it’s WITHERING, it’s merely how his stilted pupils mark the impression. @faeriesforce  // ( group sc. )

           ❝  whoa ... that’s one HELLUVA shooter ‘ya got there, man!  ❞  he steps closer, wide eyes getting a better look at the IMPRESSIVE machine gun this man chooses to tote around. nervous fingers itch to reach out & stroke the slick metal, but they end up HOVERING a few inches away before dropping back down to his side, thinking better of messing with someone else’s weapon without CONSENT ------ especially one that could blow him to bits with one wrong move. instead he DRAWS his own firearm, spinning the trigger guard around his index finger.  ❝  heh, check it out. twinsies!  ❞               // @faeriesforce  

|:|:|: Someone call this person a doctor I don’t think they’re feeling well

Then you understand my pain and fury

Aw shucks you. Compliments will get you errywhere

I wish I was kidding.