the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now
He flashes a wink at Theea in answer, the curl of his lips satisfied, especially with the lingering tingle of Calypso's fervor. His attention doesn't linger long from Flora, though the resounding smack of their hands echoes hollowly inside him, a dip of confusion coasting over his 'brow. No dance?
Some part of him deflates at that. He's barely seen Flora tonight, hasn't even shared a drink or really a laugh, and he expected that, to some degree. She's too bright to remain contained, too treasured, if this turn out to celebrate her is any indication—much less the many others that hold her dear but simply couldn't make it tonight. She is loved, by many, so it shouldn't come as a surprise or a bruise that she doesn't need his silly promises or his company. It shouldn't, but it does.
Caly? He doesn't want to hurt her, wants her, but gods he barely knows her. Friendship over fling, always. Crew before screw, squad before bod, mates before dates, whatever you want to call it, it'll always be friends and family first—hell, he'd take a lightning strike for them. Currently Caly doesn't fall into either. Maybe she could, if given a chance, but here, now, when he has a promise to fulfill, that he wants to fulfill, at his besties party? It'll definitely be Flora before more-a, Flo-ro before side-show.
He's no telepath. In fact, he could even be accused of not being very good at picking up subtle signs, or just zero subtlety and associated aspects in any manner. So he's got no reason to believe that she isn't having the time of her life out here on the dance floor, that she hasn't turned a hard night into something shimmering with joy. Other than the fact that she does this—pretends, pushes what she thinks is best even if it sacrifices herself. She's done it with Koa and Soh, even if he tried to convince her otherwise, he just doesn't think she'd do it with him. Doesn't think she has a reason to.
One of his hands presses on the back of his neck, ruffling the hair there that's been matted down by the wig. "O-okay," he says with that crooked smile, though it doesn't fully reach his eyes. Don't. If ever there needed to be sprinkles on something, this celebration is it. He pushes the grin wider, like her dismissal is a gift. "Gotta get this dog his bone," and he releases a loud "A-A-AWOOOO" to really add the ridiculous flourish that confirms he's gucci.
As he turns to leave, he throws one lingering glance over his shoulder, "We're running in the morning though secret ingredient!"
He leans back on the bar where Caly is moving glasses around with a bit more weight than is needed, the cups hitting the counter with an extra clip. He's not apologetic—he'd do the same thing again if given the choice, even knowing Flora refused him, he needed to offer—but he's here now. No Vesper, huh?
After watching for a moment he hops up on the bar and swings his legs around behind the counter. He offers her and Nova a smile, "lemme help. I've never made a drink, but I can do whatever you tell me." I'm a good boy.
Some part of him deflates at that. He's barely seen Flora tonight, hasn't even shared a drink or really a laugh, and he expected that, to some degree. She's too bright to remain contained, too treasured, if this turn out to celebrate her is any indication—much less the many others that hold her dear but simply couldn't make it tonight. She is loved, by many, so it shouldn't come as a surprise or a bruise that she doesn't need his silly promises or his company. It shouldn't, but it does.
Caly? He doesn't want to hurt her, wants her, but gods he barely knows her. Friendship over fling, always. Crew before screw, squad before bod, mates before dates, whatever you want to call it, it'll always be friends and family first—hell, he'd take a lightning strike for them. Currently Caly doesn't fall into either. Maybe she could, if given a chance, but here, now, when he has a promise to fulfill, that he wants to fulfill, at his besties party? It'll definitely be Flora before more-a, Flo-ro before side-show.
He's no telepath. In fact, he could even be accused of not being very good at picking up subtle signs, or just zero subtlety and associated aspects in any manner. So he's got no reason to believe that she isn't having the time of her life out here on the dance floor, that she hasn't turned a hard night into something shimmering with joy. Other than the fact that she does this—pretends, pushes what she thinks is best even if it sacrifices herself. She's done it with Koa and Soh, even if he tried to convince her otherwise, he just doesn't think she'd do it with him. Doesn't think she has a reason to.
One of his hands presses on the back of his neck, ruffling the hair there that's been matted down by the wig. "O-okay," he says with that crooked smile, though it doesn't fully reach his eyes. Don't. If ever there needed to be sprinkles on something, this celebration is it. He pushes the grin wider, like her dismissal is a gift. "Gotta get this dog his bone," and he releases a loud "A-A-AWOOOO" to really add the ridiculous flourish that confirms he's gucci.
As he turns to leave, he throws one lingering glance over his shoulder, "We're running in the morning though secret ingredient!"
He leans back on the bar where Caly is moving glasses around with a bit more weight than is needed, the cups hitting the counter with an extra clip. He's not apologetic—he'd do the same thing again if given the choice, even knowing Flora refused him, he needed to offer—but he's here now. No Vesper, huh?
After watching for a moment he hops up on the bar and swings his legs around behind the counter. He offers her and Nova a smile, "lemme help. I've never made a drink, but I can do whatever you tell me." I'm a good boy.
Kaisel
everybody come hang, let's go out with a bang
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
