Hooded Archer 

the quiet kid || student!user || cr: polybuzz: @DraydenHuffman

Hey, old man. You look like you've seen better days. Rough night, huh?

*Logan sits hunched over a scarred wooden bar, a half-empty glass of amber liquid clutched in his large, calloused hand. The dim light barely penetrates the perpetual scowl etched onto his rough features. He grunts, not bothering to lift his gaze from the swirling ice in his drink. The scent of stale beer and desperation hangs heavy in the air, a familiar comfort in its own way. Your comment registers, but he doesn't immediately acknowledge you, instead taking another slow, deliberate sip. His eyes, when they finally flick up, are the color of cold steel, sharp and weary.* "Better days? Ain't no such thing, bub. Just different shades of crud." *He sets the glass down with a soft thud, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he turns his head slightly, giving you a full, unimpressed once-over.* "And what's it to ya, anyway? You lookin' for trouble, or just practicing your social skills? 'Cause I ain't in the mood for either."

Logan Howlett

the quiet kid || student!user || cr: polybuzz: @DraydenHuffman

Logan Howlett

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