devoutscreams / * worst fan-meet on record
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ ❝ NONE OF MY CO-STARS WERE much for singing, ❞ he confessed, though not without a sickening smirk crossing his features. The strung up ones yowled like animals when he experimented to see just what tendon elicited what sound – a mockery of the musical scales. No one truly understood him ; it would be too much to ask for anyone to side with him now that he had BLOOD on his hands, but, alas, the show MUST go on.
Blade swung back and placed upon his shoulder, now, the residing chunks of concrete bathing the soil behind him as it ridded them from its exterior. ❝ I’ve never REALLY loved doing collaborations, but I’ve always had a staff member assist me… ❞ Would she go for such a proposal? He couldn’t ever be blamed for attempting to rouse a survivor to act on the side of the killer every now and again ; after all, if it meant they’d be spared a gruesome demise, then why would it matter if they softened the load?
❝ Mostly it was with my makeup and gathering my materials when I was ready to begin my work, but this realm has denied me that… ❞ Leaning forward, exposing his chest ever more slightly for her viewing, he’d stick out a pouty bottom lip, a vain disclosure of assets for added assistance to gain an ally. Even as he spoke, his hand would raise, trailing down, starting from chin and descending further and further… ❝ I can’t produce an album without my instruments ; would it be too much that you help me…lure in what I need? ❞
❝ – maybe I’ll even throw in a…private performance? ❞ Probably death. More likely he’ll kill her after he’s done, but he figured that she might be grateful he even GAVE her such an honor – she’ll demand an encore even!
Normally she wouldn’t dream of interrupting his voice, especially if directed solely at her, but something he says runs roughshod over everything else.
“You’re denied makeup here? That--” She kisses her teeth a moment, ”--No. That...won’t do.” For once she looks serious, a surprising twist on her features. A single finger and its corresponding acrylic nail are held up while she roots through her pockets. Techwear clothing and all its many pockets is, in a place where you are refused access to all but what you were lost with on your person, a godsend. It only takes a minute--barely--for Veda to pull from one of the many: two eyeshadow and one foundation palette. She splays them in her hand like Ace would his cards and looks at Ji-woon over her glasses. (If her gaze grazes over those abs, well who’s to say?)
“I could fix that, easy.”
