// Ring around the rosie - Pocket full of posie //
His mouth is agape in disbelief, the only sound for a minute a squeaked breath. "FLORA," he finally manages to admonish, the words half sputtering with the receding shock. He gets the conclusion she's making, but he can't wrap his head around her inability to recognize the obvious even when her hands are on it. "Puh—you obviously didn't feel right, those are some prime muscles. Go again" He plops her hand further on his bicep, flexing for all he's worth, teeth clenching through it as he shoots her an appraising look. Now?
The strain to prove himself is immediately softened and forgotten beneath the greeting of her chest, one his eyes gladly say hello to. As for her prerequisite for a second view, everything he's ever known completely evaporates from his head. Something else, it should be simple, and yet he's drawn a blank on his entire life, and nearly words in their entirety when other parts of her shift against him. Reduced to little more than a low groan of appreciation for the settle of her body and the supple heat that presses and bows in his hands, he's content to never remember anything else but the feel of her.
Seeing the pride in her falter into a pink shame on her cheeks stills his fingers. His expression tightens, even as her touch trails light and serene, too gentle for the guilt he has about the whole thing. "Let's take it back," he asserts instead, gaze flashing with a newfound determination. It had been Flora's bar to fight for or to give away, and though her choice had stunned him, he'd thought it best to leave things as peaceful as possible. Even now, the idea of wresting control away from Calypso doesn't sit quite right, but neither does watching Flora's achievements get buried, forcing her gaze away at the mention of it. "Could send all the dock fights to there instead, make running it hell until they hand it back." Designated spaces to gripe and stab might go ignored by the ruffians, so they could just say outlandish things like the Hanged Man will offer free beer to whoever the next underbelly king is, get the two problems to sort themselves out in the same spac, brawls unfurling as fast as liquor pours.
The strain to prove himself is immediately softened and forgotten beneath the greeting of her chest, one his eyes gladly say hello to. As for her prerequisite for a second view, everything he's ever known completely evaporates from his head. Something else, it should be simple, and yet he's drawn a blank on his entire life, and nearly words in their entirety when other parts of her shift against him. Reduced to little more than a low groan of appreciation for the settle of her body and the supple heat that presses and bows in his hands, he's content to never remember anything else but the feel of her.
Seeing the pride in her falter into a pink shame on her cheeks stills his fingers. His expression tightens, even as her touch trails light and serene, too gentle for the guilt he has about the whole thing. "Let's take it back," he asserts instead, gaze flashing with a newfound determination. It had been Flora's bar to fight for or to give away, and though her choice had stunned him, he'd thought it best to leave things as peaceful as possible. Even now, the idea of wresting control away from Calypso doesn't sit quite right, but neither does watching Flora's achievements get buried, forcing her gaze away at the mention of it. "Could send all the dock fights to there instead, make running it hell until they hand it back." Designated spaces to gripe and stab might go ignored by the ruffians, so they could just say outlandish things like the Hanged Man will offer free beer to whoever the next underbelly king is, get the two problems to sort themselves out in the same spac, brawls unfurling as fast as liquor pours.
Kaisel
// I'ma fucking blow all the ashes down //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
