#godcrowned

     the other’s fury was easy to pick up but without a care in the world a hum of curiosity while crimson hues remain focused on the pages in front of him, that was... until something was plopped onto his lap and eyes look down and digits moved to push his glasses to the top of his head. the cellphone.... it... how did he manage to crack in such a short amount of time  ? from curiosity to confusion in a split second, the virtuoso’s hands close his book and sets it off to the side before they’re now dealing with the cracked cellphone. careful not to cut himself on its shards.

     picking it up while looking at it, his voice heavily questions the other’s actions and well, second, his words. 

injury / torture starters | @godcrowned | accepting.

THE DEFENDER HARDLY seems pleased at the bargain offered by his captor. his back is set against the wall of his newfound cell and his body is taut with tension, jaw set in a hardened line, so any underlying defiance in his body language remains in the way he does not lower his eyes from the imposing figure, not even when he can sense the creature before him is not one to be trifled with, his sixth sense flaring and urging him into the base instincts of flight or fight.

 “if you are interested in my craft, you could at least do what patrons do and commission it.” the quip comes from him before he can even stop it, going against any semblance of good sense. he immediately tries to steel himself into whatever backlash his loose tongue may unleash upon him. it wouldn’t be the first time anyone tried to force him into giving something of his for a strange cause — the last time, however, only earned him a concussion. this time, he doesn’t know what to expect.

have kled judge your fuckin looks

“ now, you’s can call me old fashioned, but ain’t nothing more attractive than the feminine grace an’ curvy figureiture o’ a woman soaked head t’ toe in that fiiiine crimson -- and you’s smell like soap. “