THEY SPIT ON A POOR MAN / o, raid planning & masks

[valo-kas]

“[color=salmon]don’t give une shité nor une fucké ‘bout vladly but i’d go if uh. you could guarantee that no fighting would befall my sweet, waifish asscheeks.” valo-kas chimed, looking much more interested in the masks than the plan in place to retrieve their blind boy. the mutant dragged a scrap of cloth free, black with holes for eyes and a mouth. this’ll do. they didn’t need any fancy shit. ’course i WILL need a third eye hole but... but oh well.