bonefeathers

[bonefeathers]

seven nation army // the white stripes

and i’m talkin’ to myself at night because i can’t forget back and forth through my mind behind a cigarette

[bonefeathers]

ooc

i almost always respond to asks so like if you dont get a reply to s/t chances are i am not getting what you’re sending ):

[bonefeathers]

I will fill you so fulla bullet holes, pendejo, no one will ever, ever be able to recognize you when they stumble over what’s left.

And…I heard you got a new one.

[bonefeathers]

“Ears, huh?”

Mordecai reaches, then, turning the limp bandit’s head to the side. He gestures with a gloved hand at the bandit’s own lack of ears, then turns to stare pointedly at Lilith. “Wouldya lookit that. Quit feedin’ him so many! S’gonna get fat, and then I’m gonna hafta roll him at targets like a bowlin’ ball.”

“Redecoratin’.”

He lifts his goggles, just enough to squint at her. Talon is perched on his shoulder, hunched over and plucking irritably at the ends of the ribbon. When he finds he can’t reach it very well, the bird lifts a foot, grasping awkwardly with his talons.

“That include redecoratin’ my bird?”

[bonefeathers]

“Redecoratin’.”

He lifts his goggles, just enough to squint at her. Talon is perched on his shoulder, hunched over and plucking irritably at the ends of the ribbon. When he finds he can’t reach it very well, the bird lifts a foot, grasping awkwardly with his talons.

“That include redecoratin’ my bird?”

bonefeathers replied to your post:

You are the ONLY ONE WHO WOULD'N COULD, LILLY.

Hey, hey. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been redecorating this whole time.

[bonefeathers]

Oye!

Bow on Talon? Wasn’t me. 

[bonefeathers]

ooc

(whispers) hi follow the bae

[bonefeathers]

ooc: a rly messy wip of a thing im working on that needs a lot of anatomy fixing oops??? uploaded bc im unsure if i’m going to finish it ever but we’ll see ye

sorry not sorry

[bonefeathers]

Clint Eastwood//Gorillaz

[bonefeathers]

[4:50:33 PM] sexual tyrammosaurus: i had to spend a semester writing haikus

[4:50:50 PM] mordecrai: write me a haiku about axtons nipples

[bonefeathers]

cl4p-tastic started following you

[GROANS.]

[bonefeathers]

“Missed you ‘bout as much as I miss bein’ covered in skag barf, pendejo. Now skitter off back to hell where you belong, while you still have both legs.”

beauxmort started following you

“No.”

[bonefeathers]

[2:45:29 AM] bonefeathers: just call me overlord birdfucker

[bonefeathers]

Mordecai’s disposition shifts quickly, from easygoing to something bordering on irritation.  Offended, he draws the bottle back, placing it alongside two more-- unopened-- beside his boots.

It’s then he pauses, backtracking to suddenly stare hard up at the man’s face. Things are slow to click into place, but once they do, he reaches out to nudge against the man’s hand with the neck and cap of an unopened bottle.

“Disculpa. I didn’t... uh, notice.”

Silence isn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. 

“Unless I’m speaking to a corpse,” he begins, clicking his tongue, “speak up.”

[bonefeathers]

beauxmort started following you

“No.”

[bonefeathers]

Bloodwing is alerted to the stranger’s presence far before Mordecai is.

He shifts restlessly from his place perched haphazardly across the hunter’s shoulders, digging talons into cloth and leathers.

“Bah--” Mordecai swats at the bird with the cloth in his hand, murmuring somewhat irritably as Bloodwing nudges close with his beak, insistent. He’s quick to resume cleaning his sniper rifle, but still, the odd kneading and nudging persists. Finally, he turns-- just as an unfamiliar voice cuts through the quiet. Squinting through his goggles at the approaching figure, he tucks the cloth into his pocket, laying the rifle across his lap.

“Oye, chica. Lost? No. I don’t get...” He trails off, glancing once over one shoulder, then over the opposite-- but comes face-to-feathers with Bloodwing’s chest instead. Bloodwing only trills in response. “... Lost.”

bonefeathers started following you

“You’re pretty far out of the way, stranger.”  A voice called out.

 Falling boots echoed as the woman dropped to her feet. Her tone friendly enough to let him know she was not some bandit, but held a wary note. Hunters and Hyperion, unwelcome guests alike– but at least the former had no intention of capturing her like a beast.

“Hmm. Judging by your outfit…you’re not a Hyperion toady.” She mused, walking around him curiously. “Lost, perhaps?”

[bonefeathers]

Where's the closest place a man can get a drink? You seem like a man who knows.

He pauses, tentatively lowering the bottle of rakk ale. Slowly, he glances between the bottle, peering inside, then up at the man, squinting.

Somewhat sluggish, he wordlessly offers up a second bottle.