She needs the whole picture, the one that Thal keeps giving to her a little at a time, each one a puzzle piece that doesn’t slot in immediately. Leaving Thal to the choices she willingly made is something Colt sure as shit would do too, so if Vesper had made that call, she doesn’t really fault him for not tussling with the void in that way, or Thal.
Unsurprisingly, Thal’s scar throbs with the fresh attention, and her biting response causes Colt to lean back into her chair, taking some pressure off the memory with the motion. ”Never know,” she shrugs, like anyone in this bar might have been inclined to willingly infect themselves, however unlikely Colt finds that. People do strange shit though, and she could imagine a scenario where someone got themselves tempted, or perhaps bound, to making the choice under a guise of free will.
Thal thankfully offers more explanation than that, and though Colt had every intention of nursing on that in silence to avoid pushing her luck, the actual truth lands uglier than the accidental affront. ”You knowingly fucked the void? When you had Vesper as an alternative?” Forget the father-killing angle, who in their right mind would choose to ride a purple alien over the demigod that could easily pass as a child of Frey in the bedroom.
Her mouth is ajar with the shock, and it’s a wonder she recovers at all to maintain their game, although the choice Thal levels her with rouses an immediate and dismissive laugh. ”Don’t be feeling vengeful when it’s your truth sugar,” Colt croons, reaching for her replenished shot. ”I got miles and miles to ride tomorrow, I can’t manage with a bum leg, pass.” She tips back the liquor around the wash of fire, pulling a face of disgust that might be extended in equal parts to Thal at this point as she sets the empty shot glass down.
Heat kicks in her gut less like a warm brush of reassurance now, and more like something wild and reckless. She didn’t mean to sour what had potentially been something angling back to fun, and it’s worth noting shit only ever gets rocky between them lately when one man is on the table, so in a show of good faith Colt tosses out an alternative. ”What if, I shave my eyebrows off? Or my hair?”
Round 3: Thal did her choice and Colt refused | Thal: +300 MP, 0 drunk | Colt: - 300MP, 2 drunk
Colt rolled a 2, so eyebrows or hair being shaved off is up to Thal to choose and enact.
Unsurprisingly, Thal’s scar throbs with the fresh attention, and her biting response causes Colt to lean back into her chair, taking some pressure off the memory with the motion. ”Never know,” she shrugs, like anyone in this bar might have been inclined to willingly infect themselves, however unlikely Colt finds that. People do strange shit though, and she could imagine a scenario where someone got themselves tempted, or perhaps bound, to making the choice under a guise of free will.
Thal thankfully offers more explanation than that, and though Colt had every intention of nursing on that in silence to avoid pushing her luck, the actual truth lands uglier than the accidental affront. ”You knowingly fucked the void? When you had Vesper as an alternative?” Forget the father-killing angle, who in their right mind would choose to ride a purple alien over the demigod that could easily pass as a child of Frey in the bedroom.
Her mouth is ajar with the shock, and it’s a wonder she recovers at all to maintain their game, although the choice Thal levels her with rouses an immediate and dismissive laugh. ”Don’t be feeling vengeful when it’s your truth sugar,” Colt croons, reaching for her replenished shot. ”I got miles and miles to ride tomorrow, I can’t manage with a bum leg, pass.” She tips back the liquor around the wash of fire, pulling a face of disgust that might be extended in equal parts to Thal at this point as she sets the empty shot glass down.
Heat kicks in her gut less like a warm brush of reassurance now, and more like something wild and reckless. She didn’t mean to sour what had potentially been something angling back to fun, and it’s worth noting shit only ever gets rocky between them lately when one man is on the table, so in a show of good faith Colt tosses out an alternative. ”What if, I shave my eyebrows off? Or my hair?”
Round 3: Thal did her choice and Colt refused | Thal: +300 MP, 0 drunk | Colt: - 300MP, 2 drunk
Colt rolled a 2, so eyebrows or hair being shaved off is up to Thal to choose and enact.
Colt
Hole in your heart with some good aim
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
