[ video ] ► one
[ Apparently, the screen of the Forge makes for a good cosmetic mirror. The star of the video feed primps their hair, working volume back into the blond mass of curls, bats their eyelashes, and inspects the thin line of a gash that graces the right side of their face with a careful brush of lacquered fingernails. Defined bone structure, full lips, slender hands-does the voice match up with the looks? You can bet your ass it does, but it'll be awhile before you're able to hear those smooth velvet tones. Benten here is intent upon taking his sweet time. Is he aware of the video recording? The sly beginnings of a smirk say yes.
Made you look. ♥ ]
This is pretty fuckin' funny, hmm? Usually, I'm the poor bastard who's busy twittering around, providing everyone else with the intel they'd like to get their grubby little hands on.
[ A beat. ]
Lucky for me, I've finally got myself a break-
Two questions: There a place to snag a pack of Marlboro Reds in 'A-na-to-le'?
[ Then, his expression catches somewhere between darkly amused and pissed to the extreme. ]
And has anyone seen the owner of this tacky-as-hell blazer? [ He holds the garment up for emphasis, the white fabric clearly stained with crusted-over-brown smatters of blood. His own blood. ] He's a big guy, walks and talks like he's a cop, always goes stompin' around where he ain't wanted, and has a nasty scar 'cross his left eye. I might have given it to him.
[ One very lethal pause. ]
And I might just need to finish the job.
Made you look. ♥ ]
This is pretty fuckin' funny, hmm? Usually, I'm the poor bastard who's busy twittering around, providing everyone else with the intel they'd like to get their grubby little hands on.
[ A beat. ]
Lucky for me, I've finally got myself a break-
Two questions: There a place to snag a pack of Marlboro Reds in 'A-na-to-le'?
[ Then, his expression catches somewhere between darkly amused and pissed to the extreme. ]
And has anyone seen the owner of this tacky-as-hell blazer? [ He holds the garment up for emphasis, the white fabric clearly stained with crusted-over-brown smatters of blood. His own blood. ] He's a big guy, walks and talks like he's a cop, always goes stompin' around where he ain't wanted, and has a nasty scar 'cross his left eye. I might have given it to him.
[ One very lethal pause. ]
And I might just need to finish the job.