[ this is going to haunt him for the rest of his life, he swears to all existent gods if any. pervert. augh. maybe the lower half of his face isn't as expressive as it used to be, but his eyes still are (embarrassed, objecting), and his ears, his neck: burning, lobster red. the scarf slips and hangs now, from the point of his jaw before sliding halfway off his shoulder as his hastily did what he was told (and why romeo? was that a name for perverts?) ]
I don't think so . . . [ and if they did all of it— he'd no longer have a mouth. ] A-and, it's Falco, Miss.
[ beyond the slurry occasional word that required an abundance of lip movement he couldn't quite attain. before his scarf fell entirely on the floor, he scoops it up and shoulders his jacket back on to better support the mummification he's about to put himself through. around the mouth. ]
no subject
I don't think so . . . [ and if they did all of it— he'd no longer have a mouth. ] A-and, it's Falco, Miss.
[ beyond the slurry occasional word that required an abundance of lip movement he couldn't quite attain. before his scarf fell entirely on the floor, he scoops it up and shoulders his jacket back on to better support the mummification he's about to put himself through. around the mouth. ]