Mateo
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between
and most things in between
"Mm...?" Mateo glances over his shoulder, busy putting the wrapper back in his pocket - because ew, littering - and shrugging at Ever. "I do not like to fight on an empty stomach. It is something my dads taught me." He gazes back to his opponent just as he swipes out at him, and it's with a squeak of sorts that he tries to dance back and away. The knife scores a tear in his definitely a corset and deals him a shallow cut to the abdomen too, which okay, maybe he deserved.
"I is a boy," he confirms. "And a Taliesin. And an Accepted. And I am going to tell my fathers on you," he informs him, raising his empty hands up in an appropriately mystical gesture, as if he's about to do some spookity oogly boogly Channelling business. Maybe Knifey McDrunkStab wants to talk to Remi and/or Ronin about it?
(Listen, he doesn't know Mateo isn't able to channel them for real).
"I is a boy," he confirms. "And a Taliesin. And an Accepted. And I am going to tell my fathers on you," he informs him, raising his empty hands up in an appropriately mystical gesture, as if he's about to do some spookity oogly boogly Channelling business. Maybe Knifey McDrunkStab wants to talk to Remi and/or Ronin about it?
(Listen, he doesn't know Mateo isn't able to channel them for real).
I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
