Jax nodded, his mind already swirling with patterns of gold and midnight blue. He stepped back out into the drizzle, heading for the neon glow of the city center. He wasn't just looking for paint anymore; he was looking for his second skin.
"Face paint?" the shopkeeper wheezed, peering over a stack of yellowing maps. "You won't find the good stuff in a tube at the pharmacy. That's just colored grease. It cracks before the first dance is over." where do i buy face paint
The old man pointed a gnarled finger toward the . "Go to The Gilded Palette . It’s tucked between a luthier and a spice merchant. They don’t just sell pigments; they sell transformation. Ask for the water-activated cakes. They won't smudge, even if you sweat under those stage lights." Jax nodded, his mind already swirling with patterns
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