Time to deck some halls
"Oh, I know," he chuckles low, the sound drawn out over a wolfish smile, catching for a moment on the teeth. "You're extremely dangerous nude." He's never once considered her unarmed then, although it's questionable if her weaponry would have the same effect on barely intelligent mud, though that's about what his mind turns into when she's bare-chested or bending over, so maybe nothing stands a chance against her.
It's a good thing they don't need the hand signals he just worked out with her, because everything about her face is suggesting she's become a version of memory mud in the head too. He'll definitely be going over some lessons later, certain this won't be the last time they'll depend on non-verbal communication to arrange a plan. Later though, because begrudgingly she is right, this time. The hand signals immediately fly out the window the moment that flailing arm chops through muck and Kaisel's there peeling away what he can beneath the force of his cane and strength.
The solid mud shell around the man gives way into chunks of wriggling resistance as Kaisel tears pieces off, hucking them to the ground and creating a bakery of mud pies there. Flora's soft skills slip into the void of his focus, offering comfort to the panicked patron trapped within the muddy monster. He's no better than a filling being layered inside a hollow chocolate delight, except this one won't taste like marshmallows and sugar, but rather meat and earth, a flavor that never quite took off in the markets for some strange reason.
He can't keep the slide of his eyes from her as her reassurances tip into veiled absurdity, forcing him to fight back the laugh that threatens to bark out and really betray this rescue effort. "There's concerns about the size of my candy cane?" he queries innocently, brows rising as he glances from the sloughing mud to her for a moment. He flicks the striped rod to the side, splattering more mud like foul gore to the side wall. It quivers in place for a moment before working to regather, already trying to swarm back at the shoes of the man. "I think it's an excellent size." He seems to consider it, holding it aloft for assessment before using it to carve out the rest of the person's trapped arm so they have both hands free to help the process.
"So what happened here?" Kaisel asks pointedly once more of the face is exposed. "Is there more, like you?" The steam room could be a good place for the man to shelter in if they need to keep sweeping more rooms, the heat enough to keep the remaining mud from holding good shape and overwhelming him again. If Kaisel had to guess, he thinks they do need to check on the other areas given the chaotic grunge of mud across the walls and floors that tells a story of multiple struggles. The rest of the staff and customers could be holed up somewhere, trying to avoid this same fate, or could be locked in a battle of their own right now.
It's a good thing they don't need the hand signals he just worked out with her, because everything about her face is suggesting she's become a version of memory mud in the head too. He'll definitely be going over some lessons later, certain this won't be the last time they'll depend on non-verbal communication to arrange a plan. Later though, because begrudgingly she is right, this time. The hand signals immediately fly out the window the moment that flailing arm chops through muck and Kaisel's there peeling away what he can beneath the force of his cane and strength.
The solid mud shell around the man gives way into chunks of wriggling resistance as Kaisel tears pieces off, hucking them to the ground and creating a bakery of mud pies there. Flora's soft skills slip into the void of his focus, offering comfort to the panicked patron trapped within the muddy monster. He's no better than a filling being layered inside a hollow chocolate delight, except this one won't taste like marshmallows and sugar, but rather meat and earth, a flavor that never quite took off in the markets for some strange reason.
He can't keep the slide of his eyes from her as her reassurances tip into veiled absurdity, forcing him to fight back the laugh that threatens to bark out and really betray this rescue effort. "There's concerns about the size of my candy cane?" he queries innocently, brows rising as he glances from the sloughing mud to her for a moment. He flicks the striped rod to the side, splattering more mud like foul gore to the side wall. It quivers in place for a moment before working to regather, already trying to swarm back at the shoes of the man. "I think it's an excellent size." He seems to consider it, holding it aloft for assessment before using it to carve out the rest of the person's trapped arm so they have both hands free to help the process.
"So what happened here?" Kaisel asks pointedly once more of the face is exposed. "Is there more, like you?" The steam room could be a good place for the man to shelter in if they need to keep sweeping more rooms, the heat enough to keep the remaining mud from holding good shape and overwhelming him again. If Kaisel had to guess, he thinks they do need to check on the other areas given the chaotic grunge of mud across the walls and floors that tells a story of multiple struggles. The rest of the staff and customers could be holed up somewhere, trying to avoid this same fate, or could be locked in a battle of their own right now.
Kaisel
Ho ho ho Bitches
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
