Kaisel
Normally looking for a lost dog, in the rain, in a fucking jungle, would be the worst idea imaginable for a mission. However, this jungle is particularly deadly, which adds a bit of a danger factor to the whole nature expedition that Kaisel can better get behind. The dog is still...a missing dog, which feels like an annoying use of a soldier's time, but it does belong to Mrs. Thompson, a rather high-profile pearl trader, so Torchline has an economic interest in keeping her happy even if she can't manage to control a twelve-pound mutt whenever she docks. The rain, well actually Kaisel doesn't really mind the showers other than there's been a lot of them, and when something is already a touch annoying rain is just nature's little way of giving you a sarcastic smooch to go with it.
"Do you think you should fly so you can scout the area better or is there too much underbrush to make it worth it?" Kaisel asks Remi once they're boots down on the island along with a few other soldiers that are pairing up and fanning out. Mrs. Thimpson's hysterics further down the beach are being managed by a commander, and Kaisel's grateful to not have to deal with that particular aspect of the mission. "Or maybe do some hyper-weeding with your tentacles?" he wonders aloud instead as he hacks away at his own brush blockage with his leviathan chakram. They're racing against the clock here to ensure the pooch doesn't end up fertilizer for the plants.
"Do you think you should fly so you can scout the area better or is there too much underbrush to make it worth it?" Kaisel asks Remi once they're boots down on the island along with a few other soldiers that are pairing up and fanning out. Mrs. Thimpson's hysterics further down the beach are being managed by a commander, and Kaisel's grateful to not have to deal with that particular aspect of the mission. "Or maybe do some hyper-weeding with your tentacles?" he wonders aloud instead as he hacks away at his own brush blockage with his leviathan chakram. They're racing against the clock here to ensure the pooch doesn't end up fertilizer for the plants.
Haters on my back like a backpack
Blowin' up I'm fucking flawless
Blowin' up I'm fucking flawless
Code stolen from Queen Sky
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
