so the decoration of his room might be now leftovers of his second - in - command’s. his right hands. even his “left” hands and some toes. carpets a new shade of red, chandeliers with a limb of extra weight. the whole montage was extreme, yet there’s less sweat on her forehead than there is on sionis’. he stands, back a degree away from snapping of how upright he was presenting himself, with the fabric of his gloves rubbing together. ‘ my turn? very sweet of you, sunshine, but you’ve already decked pretty much all the players. maybe next time. ’ in contrast to moments before, he shows carefree. could be a twisted game of lights and shadows, but the mask even seemed smiley. a cheeky, squinting grin. ‘ right below is there life after death? is how in the damned hell are they letting you stick around? ----it’s taking my sleep at night, gotta admit. ’
@shvas.