fendi prints on // o - introduction

They tore their nail free and spat it out into the water, gnawing in silence on the ragged stump that remained. It was a bad habit. Nasty. Dirty. Whatever. Rainier - not their name, but one the original owner wouldn't mind loaning them, they were sure - leaned back, legs dangling over water, palms braced back to hold their weight as they peered out, dark eyes wandering the bodies of the ancient ships that lived there, waiting to be restored to their former glory.

Rainier brought their knees up to their chest, head lolling back in extreme disinterest, eyes closing. They could be gone from here, finding somewhere else to lurk, offering warmth and comfort to some lonely militia member in exchange for a house and a meal. Or they could just take it, but the game beforehand was so much fun. Maybe I'm just sick. They chewed another nail down. Dirty. Rainier was standing in an instant, footsteps away, teleporting there with ease. They were turned, back facing the decrepit ships and arms crossed over their thin chest. There had to be something to do around here that was more engaging than nail-chewing and boat-watching. Flirting and haggling were their usual go-tos when the other stuff failed to hold their interest.

Let's do it.