She can't help the slow smirk that spreads into one side of his features as Thal doubles down on the idea she doesn't want love. It sounds like someone claiming they don't like water, that they can only drink teas and sodas, and all the while their body's pulling out the bits of water it can from those beverages with a quiet need that screams for something less diluted. "I'm just sayin'," Colt drawls with a tilt of her head, fingers spreading across her cheek as she leans into her hand. "Fuckin', fightin', and lovin', they're all on the same spectrum." She takes the ashtray Lou slides her way, tapping the ash into it with an excess of care, gaze lifting slowly back to Thal.
"It all still means depending on others to give you what you need. Make you feel good." The centaur's legs pinch the cigarette back to her lips, looking like a very bastardized version of a half-horse creature riding some malformed hobby horse, and there's surely some level of social commentary to be had on that. "Otherwise, you'd be holed up in your room trying to set your clit on fire all alone." She can agree that getting off is practical, necessary even, but sex? Sex is looking for something a little more than just the relief, whether she realizes it or not. Colt isn't advocating that you love everyone you fuck, and she sure as shit isn't nearly as talented as the sex workers that can fully compartmentalize their job, but she does think the only way to get off the spectrum of feelings for others is indifference and masturbation. She knows she can't manage that, but maybe she could firmly keep herself on the one end going forward, the F end (fighting and fucking, to be clear) and leave the L end well and good alone. Not the first attempt at it, but practice makes perfect as they say.
Exhaling with a sigh of smoke, Colt is happy enough to move on to the topic of the blood moon, which given how well it's fucked with her head, is saying something about the topic of love. Keeping the centaur and it's ride off to the side, Colt uses her free hand to grab a spoon and dig into the flaming dessert herself, not nearly as motivated by the sweet as Thal is. She'd mostly been drawn to the look of every one she kept seeing get walked out to the other tables, and she had needed a light. "Can't say I've ever had my kiss called a battle tactic before," she laughs, the sound a delighted trill at the idea that simmers into a low hum around a bite of cake. "So, not the usual, but not unexpected. Got it." Seems to align with Thorn's vague undertansing too, in that the blood moon in particular had done some fucky shit.
When it comes to embarrassing things, Colt's brows lift with surprise at the query. Immediately, she's inclined to say feeling one way about Vesper when he clearly doesn't reciprocate, but he's already peppered holes through their evening and time enough. Although she's not sure there's anything worse than thinking you're in something with someone only to find out you've been standing alone, Colt leans in to take another spoonful of dessert and think. "I hate skyships," she admits with a wave of her spoon, setting it down with a clink of platware. "Don't really trust 'em. Much prefer my horses or my own two feet." She gathers a breath, nerves roaring up into her ears for a moment. "As a kid, used to have tantrums about getting on them, always caused a big scene, so my dad used to have to blindfold me and keep me on his shoulders, and he'd always hum a tune my mother used to sing. That worked fine enough until I got bigger, so then I'd hum it myself and keep my eyes on the floor the whole time." Given it's the main method of transportation between regions, it's no easy thing to feign ease with it, everyone else completely unbothered while she's trying to keep herself from spiraling the whole trip.
"It's a bit better now, but it's one of the reasons I tend to stay in King's End much as I can." Her work keeps her there too, but there's plenty of things she could do herself rather than send Wyatt out to do on her behalf. Things she probably should, and she might be out a bad way if she ever lost Wyatt. "It's not the flyin'," she clarifies, like it's an important distinction. "Don't really love sailin' either. Something about putting my well-being in the hands of wood and nails and a captain who isn't me? Don't sit the best." Not so much arrogance as a lack of agency, and the fact she can't read a ship the way she can a horse.
Flicking away more ash before bringing her smoking stick back to her lips, Colt sips in the chemicals and smiles. "Ask that man over there to drag you around by the tail. Do a whole lap around the bar, bet Lou would appreciate the help moppin'." She's still angling to get Thal bald, or worse. Not one to be shown up, when it suits her at least, Colt adds in her own, "I'll match ya. One last dare for me too."
Round 11: no change
Thal did her choice | Thal: +100 MP, 2 drunk
Colt did her choice | Colt: -100 MP, 3 drunk
"It all still means depending on others to give you what you need. Make you feel good." The centaur's legs pinch the cigarette back to her lips, looking like a very bastardized version of a half-horse creature riding some malformed hobby horse, and there's surely some level of social commentary to be had on that. "Otherwise, you'd be holed up in your room trying to set your clit on fire all alone." She can agree that getting off is practical, necessary even, but sex? Sex is looking for something a little more than just the relief, whether she realizes it or not. Colt isn't advocating that you love everyone you fuck, and she sure as shit isn't nearly as talented as the sex workers that can fully compartmentalize their job, but she does think the only way to get off the spectrum of feelings for others is indifference and masturbation. She knows she can't manage that, but maybe she could firmly keep herself on the one end going forward, the F end (fighting and fucking, to be clear) and leave the L end well and good alone. Not the first attempt at it, but practice makes perfect as they say.
Exhaling with a sigh of smoke, Colt is happy enough to move on to the topic of the blood moon, which given how well it's fucked with her head, is saying something about the topic of love. Keeping the centaur and it's ride off to the side, Colt uses her free hand to grab a spoon and dig into the flaming dessert herself, not nearly as motivated by the sweet as Thal is. She'd mostly been drawn to the look of every one she kept seeing get walked out to the other tables, and she had needed a light. "Can't say I've ever had my kiss called a battle tactic before," she laughs, the sound a delighted trill at the idea that simmers into a low hum around a bite of cake. "So, not the usual, but not unexpected. Got it." Seems to align with Thorn's vague undertansing too, in that the blood moon in particular had done some fucky shit.
When it comes to embarrassing things, Colt's brows lift with surprise at the query. Immediately, she's inclined to say feeling one way about Vesper when he clearly doesn't reciprocate, but he's already peppered holes through their evening and time enough. Although she's not sure there's anything worse than thinking you're in something with someone only to find out you've been standing alone, Colt leans in to take another spoonful of dessert and think. "I hate skyships," she admits with a wave of her spoon, setting it down with a clink of platware. "Don't really trust 'em. Much prefer my horses or my own two feet." She gathers a breath, nerves roaring up into her ears for a moment. "As a kid, used to have tantrums about getting on them, always caused a big scene, so my dad used to have to blindfold me and keep me on his shoulders, and he'd always hum a tune my mother used to sing. That worked fine enough until I got bigger, so then I'd hum it myself and keep my eyes on the floor the whole time." Given it's the main method of transportation between regions, it's no easy thing to feign ease with it, everyone else completely unbothered while she's trying to keep herself from spiraling the whole trip.
"It's a bit better now, but it's one of the reasons I tend to stay in King's End much as I can." Her work keeps her there too, but there's plenty of things she could do herself rather than send Wyatt out to do on her behalf. Things she probably should, and she might be out a bad way if she ever lost Wyatt. "It's not the flyin'," she clarifies, like it's an important distinction. "Don't really love sailin' either. Something about putting my well-being in the hands of wood and nails and a captain who isn't me? Don't sit the best." Not so much arrogance as a lack of agency, and the fact she can't read a ship the way she can a horse.
Flicking away more ash before bringing her smoking stick back to her lips, Colt sips in the chemicals and smiles. "Ask that man over there to drag you around by the tail. Do a whole lap around the bar, bet Lou would appreciate the help moppin'." She's still angling to get Thal bald, or worse. Not one to be shown up, when it suits her at least, Colt adds in her own, "I'll match ya. One last dare for me too."
Round 11: no change
Thal did her choice | Thal: +100 MP, 2 drunk
Colt did her choice | Colt: -100 MP, 3 drunk
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.
