Marcellain. The name stung his tongue like the last drops of a bad habit. It's the saccharine smile, always there and floating mid-sentences, some fruity cocktail, sugar-stained rum, flowers on the rim, a single bullet frozen in a cube of ice on the bottom. You'd think these hands too soft for a killer, lathered in honey and stained with gil. You'd think his voice too gentle, his steps too infirm. Just how much of him was there? Just how much of him was real?
Nathan? Sure. You knew him. Everyone knew him. Might be, some people still know him now. Quick hands and a quicker mouth, a bard, a scoundrel, the usual resume. Dust clings to his hat. How come he's so quiet? Might be the stage has squeezed all the words he had to say. Might be there was something worth saying there. Might be it's hiding. Go on, try him. Hope you like talking riddles and a long, strong drink.
Nathan? Sure. You knew him. Everyone knew him. Might be, some people still know him now. Quick hands and a quicker mouth, a bard, a scoundrel, the usual resume. Dust clings to his hat. How come he's so quiet? Might be the stage has squeezed all the words he had to say. Might be there was something worth saying there. Might be it's hiding. Go on, try him. Hope you like talking riddles and a long, strong drink.
![[Image: BRC-icon.png]](https://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/xthreads_attach.php?file=461_1454120980_4a5558ac/0a453f413f0f3f5c033f31c682250000/BRC-icon.png){kind=icon}
