[There was no stopping the creep of Raylan's smile.]
Then you're sure to live a long life. That's how assholes die you know, from gettin' old instead of goin' down like everyone else. [God, he ALMOST misses Boyd.]
Tell me about it. My dad's like 80 years old and still hasn't kicked the bucket.
[ Which is to say he's very well aware assholes live forever. He's glad, too--he doesn't think he can go through another stroke situation with his dad any time soon, it nearly ruined him.
He scoops up the hat, looks pointedly at Raylan, and, keeping eye contact, finally puts the hat on. It's a little too big on him but it's not like it falls down immediately. He opens his arms wide, brows raising. 'See?' ]
[It was gonna happen sooner or later but Raylan wasn't cruel enough to point that out. Roman knew and that wasn't the most important thing that the man needed to pay attention to.
Raylan's lips downturn in a look of approval as he nods.]
Not bad. Doesn't even sit on your ears.
I still haven't decided if I'm goin, but if I can talk James into joinin' me, we might make an appearance. I'm lookin' forward to seein' what everyone thinks of you dressin' up like this.
They're gonna think, 'oh shit, here comes Roman Roy, he makes cowboys fuckable, I can't wait to ride the fuck out of that huge dick of his.'
[ He's had that answer well prepared, if the speed is anything to go by it. He's glancing at a nearby mirror, looking at himself approvingly, nodding before setting it down and casually unbuttoning his shirt. He's got a set of keys underneath, simple but slightly out of place, and once his shirt's unbuttoned he's reaching for one of the under shirts. ]
[Raylan's head tilts a little as he notices those keys again - It wasn't off and on again, they were starting to become constant.]
If I can talk him into it. Thought I might go as a pirate, myself. Don't think they have halloween in the 17 hundreds, I'm hoping we'll be able to get him into enjoyin' himself. Shit, all we need is someone to dress up as a Leather Daddy and we're halfway to the Village people.
No. I have a fucking reputation, and that reputation hinges on being actually cool.
[ Don't even joke, Raylan. The shirt slips on, and then the flannel, and he adjusts the keys so they're out in full view. He still looks weird without the jeans on, but he grabs the hat, puts it back on, and immediately looks for a mirror. ]
I look better than you, that's for fucking sure. You're not bad looking or anything, it's just, you know. You're not a Roy.
[ He finger guns in the mirror, just to get a feel for it. ]
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Can't lend it too you if you look like an asshole from the neck up in it.
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Then you're sure to live a long life. That's how assholes die you know, from gettin' old instead of goin' down like everyone else. [God, he ALMOST misses Boyd.]
Well then, go on.
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[ Which is to say he's very well aware assholes live forever. He's glad, too--he doesn't think he can go through another stroke situation with his dad any time soon, it nearly ruined him.
He scoops up the hat, looks pointedly at Raylan, and, keeping eye contact, finally puts the hat on. It's a little too big on him but it's not like it falls down immediately. He opens his arms wide, brows raising. 'See?' ]
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Raylan's lips downturn in a look of approval as he nods.]
Not bad. Doesn't even sit on your ears.
I still haven't decided if I'm goin, but if I can talk James into joinin' me, we might make an appearance. I'm lookin' forward to seein' what everyone thinks of you dressin' up like this.
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[ He's had that answer well prepared, if the speed is anything to go by it. He's glancing at a nearby mirror, looking at himself approvingly, nodding before setting it down and casually unbuttoning his shirt. He's got a set of keys underneath, simple but slightly out of place, and once his shirt's unbuttoned he's reaching for one of the under shirts. ]
Please tell me Flint's gonna dress up.
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Excuse you, I'm plenty fuckable.
[Raylan's head tilts a little as he notices those keys again - It wasn't off and on again, they were starting to become constant.]
If I can talk him into it. Thought I might go as a pirate, myself. Don't think they have halloween in the 17 hundreds, I'm hoping we'll be able to get him into enjoyin' himself. Shit, all we need is someone to dress up as a Leather Daddy and we're halfway to the Village people.
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[ Don't even joke, Raylan. The shirt slips on, and then the flannel, and he adjusts the keys so they're out in full view. He still looks weird without the jeans on, but he grabs the hat, puts it back on, and immediately looks for a mirror. ]
I look better than you, that's for fucking sure. You're not bad looking or anything, it's just, you know. You're not a Roy.
[ He finger guns in the mirror, just to get a feel for it. ]
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[Raylan rolls his eyes fondly over a grin, giving Roman a disbelieving-] Oh uh-huh. Well thank you for that rave review.
[The finger guns get their own scoff but he keeps on, with a little lazy gesture towards the keys around Roman's neck.]
I see you already got the side accessories; what're those to?
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They're keys to a bunker in Montanna. You know, for the inevitable end of the world.
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Didn't figure you for a bunker, end of the world kinda guy. [In fact, he knew Roman wasn't.] Have you even ever been to Montana?