requiemshark: (035)
Terrence Ephemera / Sharkface ([personal profile] requiemshark) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarking 2020-03-05 03:16 pm (UTC)

[ That gets a huff, and a faint smile. ]

Sure. Green shit.

[ It probably has a proper name but Ephemera can't remember it right now. He heard it compared to absinth once. Doesn't taste great, but it's got a hell of a kick and that's all that really matters.

Ephemera finishes tending to his hands, then strips off his shirt and goes through his bag for a clean one, not caring that Jónsson can see every damn one of his tattoos now. The script on his back, the shark and styled flames. Probably even the skull on his chest and redemption printed there like a brand; it doesn't matter. It really doesn't. Modesty was one of the first things to die in training. Bodies are bodies, in the end. And while he doesn't like how quickly people clock him in a crowd, Ephemera doesn't actually care that much. There was a time he used it as a weapon, proof of everything he'd survived and a warning to everyone else. So long as no one tries to touch him, it's fine.

It would be easier in armor, that's all.

His fresh clothes are plain, a beater jacket and a shirt with hood he can pull up. Cover the scars a bit, if he angles his head just right. ]


C'mon. I'm too goddamn sober.

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