No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified
The bright laugh that leaves him at her quick and shameless assertion is one that the tall archways readily bounce around in lingering echo. ”I mean, really,” Kaisel scoffs on her behalf, biting the humor back down into a messy grin. ”It was rude of him to pass out. Not very considerate if you ask me.” Truthfully, poor man never stood a chance.
It’s on him for reminding her of the event, and he can laugh about it now, but he still rouses a kernel of defense as he shoots her a look over his shoulder. ”You put on too good of a show,” he accuses, the huff built into that bleeding out into fondness. ”Wish you could have seen yourself,” he mutters, about ready to call her Emily Rose. He’s rolling the memory away though as he rises up to the shrine and reaches out with a quite literal lifeline to Dygra.
As before, the god’s presence wells up with a heat that lingers, existing like something that has always been standing in the room with them and just now choosing to lean into notice a bit more. Kaisel inhales deep as the voice pours over the room, the smell of iron stronger than before. He stands a touch taller in response to the words, bolstered by the greeting. His gaze flicks from the shrine to Charlie as her hair shifts in the lingering hands of Dygra, a smile hooking one end of his mouth. ”That she is,” he confirms, like it’s the highest compliment and not just a fact.
The ease of it all tightens though as teh chakram begins to rise. Awe, more than anything else stills him, rooting him to the spot as his attention lifts to the soon rapidly whirling disc, looking for all the world like every little boy’s dream when playing Beyblades. It seems to garner such speed that it begins to cut against the very air, striking up a spark as if snarling against steel, but he knows better. Dygra’s touch is what he witnessed, and it lingers, shiny with a promise fulfilled as the weapon settles back to steady rest. Kaisel approaches it readily, crouching down with a hand extended towards it, reaching to trace one of the new runes there. His fingers curl back in caution at the warmth still rolling off it, surprised more than harmed. He extends through that feeling, the metal not so hot as to burn, but it flushes his skin as he claims it. ”You’re amazing, thanks Dygra,” he breathes, wonder yielding to a garetful excitement as he turns the blade over in his hand.
At the mention that she’s not done, his brows furrow briefly, and he considers placing the tool back down. It becomes clear that Dygra doesn’t mean him though, the air around Charlie beginning to shimmer with heat, making her appear like a fine mirage. ”A spill?” Kaisel says softly, more to himself as he rises, uncertain of what Charlie’s just been granted. No object appears, nothing other than Dygra’s embrace, but there’s an unmistakable weight being handed over, a charge to the air that Kaisel can practically pluck with his hands. He’s happy, he thinks, for whatever gift Charlie’s just been given, because the honor is clear even if the result isn’t.
It’s on him for reminding her of the event, and he can laugh about it now, but he still rouses a kernel of defense as he shoots her a look over his shoulder. ”You put on too good of a show,” he accuses, the huff built into that bleeding out into fondness. ”Wish you could have seen yourself,” he mutters, about ready to call her Emily Rose. He’s rolling the memory away though as he rises up to the shrine and reaches out with a quite literal lifeline to Dygra.
As before, the god’s presence wells up with a heat that lingers, existing like something that has always been standing in the room with them and just now choosing to lean into notice a bit more. Kaisel inhales deep as the voice pours over the room, the smell of iron stronger than before. He stands a touch taller in response to the words, bolstered by the greeting. His gaze flicks from the shrine to Charlie as her hair shifts in the lingering hands of Dygra, a smile hooking one end of his mouth. ”That she is,” he confirms, like it’s the highest compliment and not just a fact.
The ease of it all tightens though as teh chakram begins to rise. Awe, more than anything else stills him, rooting him to the spot as his attention lifts to the soon rapidly whirling disc, looking for all the world like every little boy’s dream when playing Beyblades. It seems to garner such speed that it begins to cut against the very air, striking up a spark as if snarling against steel, but he knows better. Dygra’s touch is what he witnessed, and it lingers, shiny with a promise fulfilled as the weapon settles back to steady rest. Kaisel approaches it readily, crouching down with a hand extended towards it, reaching to trace one of the new runes there. His fingers curl back in caution at the warmth still rolling off it, surprised more than harmed. He extends through that feeling, the metal not so hot as to burn, but it flushes his skin as he claims it. ”You’re amazing, thanks Dygra,” he breathes, wonder yielding to a garetful excitement as he turns the blade over in his hand.
At the mention that she’s not done, his brows furrow briefly, and he considers placing the tool back down. It becomes clear that Dygra doesn’t mean him though, the air around Charlie beginning to shimmer with heat, making her appear like a fine mirage. ”A spill?” Kaisel says softly, more to himself as he rises, uncertain of what Charlie’s just been granted. No object appears, nothing other than Dygra’s embrace, but there’s an unmistakable weight being handed over, a charge to the air that Kaisel can practically pluck with his hands. He’s happy, he thinks, for whatever gift Charlie’s just been given, because the honor is clear even if the result isn’t.
Kaisel
I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
