(no subject)
[clock towers usually aren't the best places to be in, unless you really like clocks. this one in particular isn't working, though. it still smells of oil, but it's still and eerily silent.
laying on his back on an over-sized gear is the resident Fang King, wearing that same super obnoxiously orange jacket, complete with extra long sleeves and hookstraps attached to his pants. he's been practicing for a while after being out of commission for so long-- the "scars" on the walls, pillars, and some of the machinery are a testament to that.
for now, though, he's taking a rest. napping. clearly you should try to draw on his face.
that, or ask him why the hell he has crutches leaning against the nearby wall.]
((ooc: expect cameos from route_sanglante and routesanglante. yeah. he has more icons.))
laying on his back on an over-sized gear is the resident Fang King, wearing that same super obnoxiously orange jacket, complete with extra long sleeves and hookstraps attached to his pants. he's been practicing for a while after being out of commission for so long-- the "scars" on the walls, pillars, and some of the machinery are a testament to that.
for now, though, he's taking a rest. napping. clearly you should try to draw on his face.
that, or ask him why the hell he has crutches leaning against the nearby wall.]
((ooc: expect cameos from route_sanglante and routesanglante. yeah. he has more icons.))