06-06-2018, 10:12 PM
AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT
Bastille wasn't exactly opposed to these sorts of games, honestly. He found them more interesting and useful than meet and greets, seeing how it actually forced people to get to know one another a bit, and besides -- he actually liked random facts. He might not seem very sociable, but in reality he just hated small talk. Give him something of actual substance to discuss and he was perfectly interested in talking to others. It helped that Rad had given him something that carried a subtle hum, a faint buzz of contentment in his veins; it'd been a few days since one of her pills had been entirely positive, and it had him in a better mood than normal.
He had both heard Luna singing and seen her posted up with books, so he supposed neither of those two were very shocking. The brother she had mentioned vaguely, and Bastille had never pressed her on it; he hated to admit it as he stopped beside his mentor, but he was desperately curious to know what Hazel said. He pretended he wasn't -- he glanced at her briefly but didn't linger -- but he noted what she said and felt a flicker of curiosity. Gods, he wanted to demand more facts from her, but he kept himself in check. Hazel barely even looked at him these days, and for good reason.
"Bastilleprisoner," he supplied with an arched brow, pausing. "Do I have to give you my last name, too, or some shit? Aurelius." He didn't actually want the ice cream -- drugs were a great appetite represent -- but he rattled off with a yawn, "Uhh, my mother's name would have been Frenchrevolution, all three of my souls are assholes, and... huh. I've never really lived in a group, before here, I guess." He didn't really count his mother's Clan, brief as that was and purely out of necessity.
[align=center]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGSHe had both heard Luna singing and seen her posted up with books, so he supposed neither of those two were very shocking. The brother she had mentioned vaguely, and Bastille had never pressed her on it; he hated to admit it as he stopped beside his mentor, but he was desperately curious to know what Hazel said. He pretended he wasn't -- he glanced at her briefly but didn't linger -- but he noted what she said and felt a flicker of curiosity. Gods, he wanted to demand more facts from her, but he kept himself in check. Hazel barely even looked at him these days, and for good reason.
"Bastilleprisoner," he supplied with an arched brow, pausing. "Do I have to give you my last name, too, or some shit? Aurelius." He didn't actually want the ice cream -- drugs were a great appetite represent -- but he rattled off with a yawn, "Uhh, my mother's name would have been Frenchrevolution, all three of my souls are assholes, and... huh. I've never really lived in a group, before here, I guess." He didn't really count his mother's Clan, brief as that was and purely out of necessity.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]