@a234404 | starter call.
❝ You look like you’re in a hurry, ❞ comment lands by the wayside, somewhere crossed between interest and observation. His head lifting in slanted cant, attention brought away from mangled wires and the cobbled metal workings of his right hand. Sight now follows the figure moving past the edge of his peripheral. A blur twisting with ebony and ivory against barren desolate imagery, her ashen hair not a shade too far from his own.
Normally, he wouldn’t give a shit. And maybe that gut reaction should still be followed. Except, notice is taken to those grooves etched within her shoulders, engraved pattern winding downwards over arms and legs, to the blade gripped within her hand. ( all things considered; they kick up the intrigue ). A tch hisses out from closed lips, once slouched posture straightens to full. ❝ ---- What’s the big rush? ❞







