there’s an inkling of expression riding on a marbled phizog, gloved fingers clasped together as the tyrant sits and listen to the other, no doubt growing RESTLESS in his seat despite not showing it. the advantage of wearing dark shades is no one knows if his eyes are open, closed or merely fixated on them. at this point, it seems like he has fallen asleep given his solid and immobile posture. “the time i’ve granted you to state your purpose with me has run out, i’m afraid.” only the wisp of annoyance etches itself against his tone, the blonde god now tipping his head. “to be quite honest, you could easily KILL someone with your boring, beating around the bush explanations.”
// @soultaiint










