I'm a force that you will dread, set me on fire, I'm still alive
"HMMMMmmmMMMMMMm," he thinks, loudly, to himself but also very much with an outside volume. Copper eyes dart back and forth between a fluffy pink purse that seems like several flamingos worth of molt, and a circular and gem-studded satchel that seems to be imitating a clementine. "Well, she does like feather boas," he again tells himself audibly, and his crossed arms lift for a moment towards the feathers. He pauses suddenly though, 'brows furrowing tighter. "But, she also likes shiny things—I mean she's practically half crow." His attention now settles firmly on the tiny tangerine, but he doesn't move, just stares. The exasperated sigh of the merchant suggests this has gone on for some time.
He shifts his weight, indecision like a plague of discomfort. The sequins of his long-sleeve shirt catch the light with the movement, the black fabric dull in comparison to the red shimmer of a stitched flame roaring up his chest, flipping to blue on the other side when his hands brush the pattern in reverse. His hands fall into the pockets of his navy joggers instead, a sign of defeat as he sucks air through his teeth. "Thanks, I might be back," he mutters to the shopkeep, who has since abandoned all care about this transaction. Her focus, like the rest of the people nearby, has shifted towards the small gathering where Charlie is. That's where Kaisel's attention is drawn too, and curious he steps towards the crowd.
He hears her before he sees her, and for a moment he can't register why the voice is so familiar. As he nudges his way to the front of the group though, the recognition is immediate. He can't see her face, but the heels that seem deadly, the outfit that shouldn't stand out in Torchline but still manages to, and the overly active tail all scream, "Charlie?!" Kaisel breathes out a surprised laugh, stepping closer still to loop an arm over her shoulder. "What are you doing here??" Not said with accusation, just the shock still of bumping into her among the masses.
It's around then that the situation at hand starts to click into place, gaze twisting from her, to the game, to the operator with a gradual narrowing. Torchline might have a strong current of lawlessness and debauchery, which has made it challenging to know what to enforce and what not to honestly, but blatant cheats aren't tolerated. Not that soldiers generally have to step in for that, the ecosystem of the city usually sorts that out. "Oh I hope we can keep this fun," he sighs towards the conch-man, not particularly wanting to deal with any mess.
He shifts his weight, indecision like a plague of discomfort. The sequins of his long-sleeve shirt catch the light with the movement, the black fabric dull in comparison to the red shimmer of a stitched flame roaring up his chest, flipping to blue on the other side when his hands brush the pattern in reverse. His hands fall into the pockets of his navy joggers instead, a sign of defeat as he sucks air through his teeth. "Thanks, I might be back," he mutters to the shopkeep, who has since abandoned all care about this transaction. Her focus, like the rest of the people nearby, has shifted towards the small gathering where Charlie is. That's where Kaisel's attention is drawn too, and curious he steps towards the crowd.
He hears her before he sees her, and for a moment he can't register why the voice is so familiar. As he nudges his way to the front of the group though, the recognition is immediate. He can't see her face, but the heels that seem deadly, the outfit that shouldn't stand out in Torchline but still manages to, and the overly active tail all scream, "Charlie?!" Kaisel breathes out a surprised laugh, stepping closer still to loop an arm over her shoulder. "What are you doing here??" Not said with accusation, just the shock still of bumping into her among the masses.
It's around then that the situation at hand starts to click into place, gaze twisting from her, to the game, to the operator with a gradual narrowing. Torchline might have a strong current of lawlessness and debauchery, which has made it challenging to know what to enforce and what not to honestly, but blatant cheats aren't tolerated. Not that soldiers generally have to step in for that, the ecosystem of the city usually sorts that out. "Oh I hope we can keep this fun," he sighs towards the conch-man, not particularly wanting to deal with any mess.
Kaisel
Bet you didn't think that I'd come back to life, stronger
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
