Kaisel
He glances her way from his kneeling position, stooped to decorate the floor red. Her movements as she reaches for the weapon are comfortable, practiced, the ground and the blade each of little mind. It should not surprise him that drawing from the well of her body barely earns a blink, but he's curiously enchanted just the same by the ease with which she takes to that where he struggles.
The chakram adds a fresh swatch of color to the mix, Charlie's crimson joining the decoration of being haunted. Her expression momentarily takes on a sharkish quality, rich with instinct, and she presses deeper. He doesn't doubt her talent with a process like this, but on reflex his hand starts to reach out towards her, a "No, you do—" starting quick, rushing out to keep her as whole as possible. It's this same motion and the tingling sensation of healing coursing along his own severed slash that halts him, a surprised claim upending the words.
"What!" he demands, excitement dancing his brows high. "Charlie! You're like, the best!" which he's positive she knows, but he can't keep the admission back, a laugh breaking free as the pain subsides and the rush of the moment coming to hand is enough to quell the lingering trepidation about facing this. "Okay, uh, just dribble some more there and there," he instructs with a point, smearing the additions of her body paint until the lines are complete and the design intact.
"Can you heal yourself like that too?" He had fountain water on hand, having expected they'd need it, but maybe not. Leaning back upright on his knees after completing the circuit of summoning, he pushes the candles into their proper places. "Would you be so kind?" he asks here with a bat of his eyes, a grin breaking out after. Healer, lighter, she's basically a swiss army knife, even pocket sized. He grabs the paper, preparing to read.
The chakram adds a fresh swatch of color to the mix, Charlie's crimson joining the decoration of being haunted. Her expression momentarily takes on a sharkish quality, rich with instinct, and she presses deeper. He doesn't doubt her talent with a process like this, but on reflex his hand starts to reach out towards her, a "No, you do—" starting quick, rushing out to keep her as whole as possible. It's this same motion and the tingling sensation of healing coursing along his own severed slash that halts him, a surprised claim upending the words.
"What!" he demands, excitement dancing his brows high. "Charlie! You're like, the best!" which he's positive she knows, but he can't keep the admission back, a laugh breaking free as the pain subsides and the rush of the moment coming to hand is enough to quell the lingering trepidation about facing this. "Okay, uh, just dribble some more there and there," he instructs with a point, smearing the additions of her body paint until the lines are complete and the design intact.
"Can you heal yourself like that too?" He had fountain water on hand, having expected they'd need it, but maybe not. Leaning back upright on his knees after completing the circuit of summoning, he pushes the candles into their proper places. "Would you be so kind?" he asks here with a bat of his eyes, a grin breaking out after. Healer, lighter, she's basically a swiss army knife, even pocket sized. He grabs the paper, preparing to read.
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
