Honey wherever you go, I know
He finally fumbles enough with the damned toy to free his hands fully, the trap tumbling down somewhere near his sneakers, forgotten as his gaze narrows upon the Torchline Terror. Like any good episode of Scooby-Doo, the ghoul has been trapped, and that voice rising from it suggests this is a villain worth unmasking. It's distinct enough to slice through all his held breath, recognition edging in on caution and analysis like a thing that doesn't fit, no different from stumbling upon your teacher out in the wild and not behind a desk where you always thought they lived, just come to find they aren't an NPC and have a life too.
"Flo-ro?" he asks with a sharp doubt, but the more he looks the more the ghost does waver with the quality of fabric instead of the ethereal plane. The unveiling doesn't reveal a smug golden queen though, just an emptiness that feels like a magic trick at this point rather than a haunting. His eyes pan the crowd, skipping over still grumbling merchants and confused shoppers, some of whom have already started to turn back to their own business, like commotion of this scale is nothing to bat an eye at here.
He doesn't spot anything that'd give her away, but he has a suspicion.
He reaches back with freshly freed fingers to grasp at something, anything. Hopefully no bystander's dick, because he's aiming blind, trying to catch her as much as he's certain she's working an angle to snare him, again. It's at this point that the frog materializes in his shirt, disgustingly cold and moist and leggy. His shoulder pitch up again with the surprise of the icky sensation, and he breathes out harshly as he cranes his chin down, eyes locking with the blinking frog. "RUUUUUPERT!" Kaisel accuses, disdain and disgust hand in hand. He swipes up the offending creature right as it goes to jump on his face and absolutely yeets it up and over the crowd before he's truly thought about it. "Eugh! FLORA!"
"Flo-ro?" he asks with a sharp doubt, but the more he looks the more the ghost does waver with the quality of fabric instead of the ethereal plane. The unveiling doesn't reveal a smug golden queen though, just an emptiness that feels like a magic trick at this point rather than a haunting. His eyes pan the crowd, skipping over still grumbling merchants and confused shoppers, some of whom have already started to turn back to their own business, like commotion of this scale is nothing to bat an eye at here.
He doesn't spot anything that'd give her away, but he has a suspicion.
He reaches back with freshly freed fingers to grasp at something, anything. Hopefully no bystander's dick, because he's aiming blind, trying to catch her as much as he's certain she's working an angle to snare him, again. It's at this point that the frog materializes in his shirt, disgustingly cold and moist and leggy. His shoulder pitch up again with the surprise of the icky sensation, and he breathes out harshly as he cranes his chin down, eyes locking with the blinking frog. "RUUUUUPERT!" Kaisel accuses, disdain and disgust hand in hand. He swipes up the offending creature right as it goes to jump on his face and absolutely yeets it up and over the crowd before he's truly thought about it. "Eugh! FLORA!"
Kaisel
I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
