‍‍ ‍ ᅠ ݁ ᅠᴺ.𑁤͟𝒾𝒓𝐂͟ᴱ𝐔ᴿ

⠀i am not my body. not my mind. i am the mask that burns with the fires of vengeance.

look what the cat dragged in. a delicate wrist ensnared within talons — has he no aristocrats to entertain today?

bars are usually where life from every corner of the world, both light and dark, are convened; an unwitting game of russian roulette for them if i joined you. why, mon chéri ... don’t tell me you’re ashamed to be seen next to me?

you’ve always been mischievous in my eye. suppose i do, would you have me, then?

oh? reacting as if i’ve caught you red—handed doing something ... naughty. very long time indeed, my illusionist. so, about this gay bar?

by your lonesome self?

⠀“ "impress"? ” he half scoffs, half laughs. with a small bounce, he hoists the magician higher in his arms. “ you've got it all wrong. i'm doing *you the favor, as requested. shouldn't *you be aiming to impress *me .ᐣ ”

⠀“ fine. ” maybe it's a bit extra, and a little mean, but he tosses the magician up, only to catch him in his arms, princess style. “ is this better .ᐣ ”

﹖﹖ picking him up by the scruff, eyeing him scrupulously.