Did I reallyโ
( cue an exasperated compress of lips, features taut as unfocused eyes peered toward the...shape. )
That's kind of you, uh.
( gloved hands moved to grasp the frames, silently debating if he should risk sounding out of his mind with an explanation. )
I...had to remove them. Thanks.
//I was leaning toward making a Stefano but I'll make a Sebastian sometime methinks ๐ gahh I need to replay tew2
//oughh...the freckles I'm not sorry
Lost my glasses and my will to live.
Ten minutes, hours, the only guide in his attempt to follow the situation was his journal. Beacon was an isolated incident, subliminally constructed and gruesome, but the unfamiliar streets, the carnage, looked no different. The artwork, though.
"Bad time to promote yourself..." a humorless mutter.
๐๐ฅ๐ข.
๐๐ฅ๐ข.
๐๐ฅ๐ข.
๐๐ฅ๐ข.
๐ป[Info in old pin]๐ฎ
๐๐๐๐จ๐ข ๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ก ๐ฌ๐ฃ ๐ช๐ถ ๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ก, ๐ฃ๐ฌ๐ฏ ๐ถ๐ฌ๐ฒ ๐๐ฏ๐ข ๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ซ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ซ๐ข.
๐๐๐ฉ๐จ ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฑ๐ฅ ๐ช๐ข ๐ฆ๐ซ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฉ๐ฉ.๐
Come into the "haunted" manor. A sweet smile and welcoming arms. Do not fear the reaper.
๐๐
