[kavinsky has a problem where he loves magic. for better or for worse. occasionally objectively for the better!]
Pretty fucking high, [kavinsky answers, laughing like a jackal. he rests his elbows on the counter, leans forward far enough that his shoulderblades emerge under his shirt as sharply as slabs of tectonically sharded stone.] Why, you want some? Substance party, you and me. What's so great about this planet anyway?
no subject
Pretty fucking high, [kavinsky answers, laughing like a jackal. he rests his elbows on the counter, leans forward far enough that his shoulderblades emerge under his shirt as sharply as slabs of tectonically sharded stone.] Why, you want some? Substance party, you and me. What's so great about this planet anyway?