Colt
Love's just one of them words
That gets thrown around
So I ain't gonna say it, no I ain't gonna lie
If you were my last breath, I'd just wanna hold ya
That gets thrown around
So I ain't gonna say it, no I ain't gonna lie
If you were my last breath, I'd just wanna hold ya
The list of tasks he rattles off doesn't sound difficult, but sometimes just having a list is problem enough, as she well knows. "Easy," she announces with a tilt of her lips. "Moonlight's nothin'. And I betcha Thorn could make the illusion for you." As for Nova? "If you're worried she won't do it willingly, I can always hog tie her." Her grin breaks into full spread at that idea, as it always does at the notion of catching anyone in her lasso, a woefully short list of victims if she's being honest. Should win a ribbon for all her restraint.
When it comes to him though, it's a damn miracle that she has any left. Her smile wanes back into thought as he dangles the idea of a spa trip once again, although her expression remains skeptical. She could always try, she supposes. What'd be the harm except some wasted time, like she isn't looking for ways to burn through it at the moment. If it succeeds, could get her back on track faster, and it's not as if she needs to be there so long. Could be in and out before she even has a chance to get to missing him...
The flicker of her new back and forth dims with the revelation that he'd left the masquerade early due to being ill. That would explain why she hadn't seen Jack again either, not that she'd particularly been looking for him, but she had wanted his tequila after a certain point of the night. An edge to her softens a bit, her gaze lifting to his with fresh clarity, an allowance for some relief of the worry she'd been winding and unwinding against her ribs. "I was wondering why you were so hard to find," she murmurs, gentler than she means.
It's an answer to a question she'd been silently chasing, but it doesn't solve much, the way scratching at a bug bite doesn't help anything but the itch. That night hadn't gone south for her because of him or anything he did, or didn't do. It would have stayed steady if she'd found him, but the tilt of it had all been her. Shit, if anything it's almost worse now, knowing he had such a good reason, and she let it bother her? She's really losing her grip on this situation. "Glad you've recovered. Don't worry, you didn't miss much," she reassures, playing it off like the evening hadn't been something she'd built up with him solely in mind. Well, her fault. She'd be cautious not to repeat it.
Her attention flicks back to him when he mentions distraction. "Unfortunate the channeling is one way," she sighs regrettably, a touch of a smile coming in. "Is that why you're wandering the streets of New Haven, lookin' for distractions?"
When it comes to him though, it's a damn miracle that she has any left. Her smile wanes back into thought as he dangles the idea of a spa trip once again, although her expression remains skeptical. She could always try, she supposes. What'd be the harm except some wasted time, like she isn't looking for ways to burn through it at the moment. If it succeeds, could get her back on track faster, and it's not as if she needs to be there so long. Could be in and out before she even has a chance to get to missing him...
The flicker of her new back and forth dims with the revelation that he'd left the masquerade early due to being ill. That would explain why she hadn't seen Jack again either, not that she'd particularly been looking for him, but she had wanted his tequila after a certain point of the night. An edge to her softens a bit, her gaze lifting to his with fresh clarity, an allowance for some relief of the worry she'd been winding and unwinding against her ribs. "I was wondering why you were so hard to find," she murmurs, gentler than she means.
It's an answer to a question she'd been silently chasing, but it doesn't solve much, the way scratching at a bug bite doesn't help anything but the itch. That night hadn't gone south for her because of him or anything he did, or didn't do. It would have stayed steady if she'd found him, but the tilt of it had all been her. Shit, if anything it's almost worse now, knowing he had such a good reason, and she let it bother her? She's really losing her grip on this situation. "Glad you've recovered. Don't worry, you didn't miss much," she reassures, playing it off like the evening hadn't been something she'd built up with him solely in mind. Well, her fault. She'd be cautious not to repeat it.
Her attention flicks back to him when he mentions distraction. "Unfortunate the channeling is one way," she sighs regrettably, a touch of a smile coming in. "Is that why you're wandering the streets of New Haven, lookin' for distractions?"
If you were my last shot of whiskey
I'd press you to my lips, take a little sip
Swirl you around and around and around
Then I'd shoot ya down
I'd press you to my lips, take a little sip
Swirl you around and around and around
Then I'd shoot ya down
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
