#hexenbrut

“I love this motel-- they barely have any roaches, and they actually wash the bedding!” You let him in first before you follow suit, kicking the door shut before you move to go and set the box on the little kitchenette’s counter. “So! Did you want that wine now, or later? I’m not much of a wine man, myself, but there’s no harm in trying some.”

You’re cruel.

The Junker’s amazed he’s made it to 60. He’s... old. He shouldn’t have been this old. But there he was. “What’s so strange about me, eh?” Not that he was denying the fact. After all, he had a pig tattoo on one arm, a skull and dynamite on the other, was hoarding a pig gas-mask, had two odd prosthetics, was caked in soot, missing most of his hair, half of his teeth were gold--the list could go on, really. “An’ what’s it to ya, huh? Let an old man spend his last days with his bombs.” There was a small bit of bite to his tone, but as for the reason, it was a mystery.

Cort raised a brow, then starting to frown at Victoria. “There are not griffons in these parts though.”

“Vic? i guess i should’ve asked if you wanted to do this together, huh?”

for @hexenbrut of their character Edgar (aka jesse’s new bf tbhhh)

“Decadent, huh? Can’t say I’ve heard that before. Not in reference ta’ someone’s tastes. Usually I hear it when they’re talkin’ about cake, clothes, and houses!”