(no subject)
We are not amused...though how it echoes of my dwelling...
Kirsty Cotton is ill. I have not been able to rid her of it myself, and I acquire assistance. Immediately.
|
Kirsty...it's simply another curse this city has to offer...lay back down...there's no way to rid ourselves of it.
[ooc: Needless to say, Pinny is drenched. Head to toe. DRENCHED. Even the pins are dripping, he leaves a trail wherever her goes, his hands almost leak rivers from his shoulders. Pretty fucking gruesome. He's somewhat amused that Kirsty is covered in that of Trevor's and his bitches' blood, though.]