(his gaze is empty, almost as if his life has been taken away from them. his eyebags are so dark that they seem virtually black, a striking contrast with the white hair that surrounds his frail face. his eyebrow lifts, but the expression doesn't shift - it's hollow, the gun moving as his hands do to punctuate his own words.)
What the fuck do you mean?
(it's clean, his pills are refined and there is no adding of anything in them. the purer they are, the more faithful clients, the better for business.)
no subject
What the fuck do you mean?
(it's clean, his pills are refined and there is no adding of anything in them. the purer they are, the more faithful clients, the better for business.)