Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool
The evidence of his clandestine ice cream consumption is on easy display as his stomach squishes a smidge in response to Enzo’s prodding. Kaisel has been training for years and has the cut of muscle to prove it, but equally, he’s been sneaking sweets, and those continually battle each other. ”She’s not supposed to make it so obvious,” he complains with a grumble of conceding defeat. He has never doubted the lengths Flora would go to for Enzo, and if he had, she made them quite clear over the bath in House of Midnight. She’d turn back time for her twin, and he’s positive that even with Enzo back from Mort, that still holds true, whatever other changes might ripple out of that choice. Still, Enzo isn’t supposed to know that, not if Kaisel wants to easily threaten him anyway.
Offering little in the way of helpful secret ammunition, not that Kaisel’s surprised in the slightest, fairly certain Enzo’s love is returned just as strongly towards Flora—twin things—he instead maintains a ready smile as Enzo cracks in half with overly accentuated gratitude. The display is especially impressive coming from a goat, and Kaisel and his champagne prize shake with amusement that’s louder than any kitchen rustling could have been.
Catching himself, he swallows it down with ballooning cheeks, the pressure of containment only doubling the humor. So instead Kaisel does the only honorable thing left, and begins to smother himself in the pillows. He waves away Enzo’s retreat and provides a thumbs-up for his personal assignment, working on blacking out enough to stop laughing as the start.
Sighing long and loud like a release, he rolls off the bed in dramatic fashion, leaving the champagne nestled like a lady readying to undress on the mattress still. ”Alright, containers. Cups. Bowls. Holders.” He lists the postentials out loud as if it could manifest them, hands shaping the air into the relative form of each object, all of it necessary to the hunt. He circles the word vessel, thoughts absolutely saturated with it simply because he’s trying not to brush against it.
It doesn’t take long to come to terms with the fact that there’s absolutely nothing in here, not unless Enzo wants to eat out of his jock strap. Sneaking with a newfound attention to silence, as if passing the threshold of his room into the outer wilds of Wildering House is an immediate exposure risk in and of itself, Kaisel sidles up to one of the many floral displays Mateo has been leaving around. ”I’m sure he won’t miss this for a little bit,” which might be his famous last words right before he pulls free the foliage and sets it down on the table, tucking the vase into his arm. He plucks up another one in much the same manner, and scuttles to a nearby bathroom to wash them out.
Sparkling clean and ready for service, Kaisel has one short, stubby vase swirled with blue and green glass. The other is skinny and tall, yellow bumps of glass all along the exterior, ribbed for her pleasure. He’s just gotten into the room himself when Enzo barrels back with a shower of his own cream this time. Acting on some absurd instinct to catch what’s sailing, Kaisel face twists into a silent wail as he hucks his glass vases onto the bed and tries to catch two of the tubs, only managing one, and plenty more thudding around him. ”QUIET!” he hisses loudly, freezing in place to stare back at the door and listen down the hall.
Time for his favorite game—spirit or fear it (aka, Flora)?
Offering little in the way of helpful secret ammunition, not that Kaisel’s surprised in the slightest, fairly certain Enzo’s love is returned just as strongly towards Flora—twin things—he instead maintains a ready smile as Enzo cracks in half with overly accentuated gratitude. The display is especially impressive coming from a goat, and Kaisel and his champagne prize shake with amusement that’s louder than any kitchen rustling could have been.
Catching himself, he swallows it down with ballooning cheeks, the pressure of containment only doubling the humor. So instead Kaisel does the only honorable thing left, and begins to smother himself in the pillows. He waves away Enzo’s retreat and provides a thumbs-up for his personal assignment, working on blacking out enough to stop laughing as the start.
Sighing long and loud like a release, he rolls off the bed in dramatic fashion, leaving the champagne nestled like a lady readying to undress on the mattress still. ”Alright, containers. Cups. Bowls. Holders.” He lists the postentials out loud as if it could manifest them, hands shaping the air into the relative form of each object, all of it necessary to the hunt. He circles the word vessel, thoughts absolutely saturated with it simply because he’s trying not to brush against it.
It doesn’t take long to come to terms with the fact that there’s absolutely nothing in here, not unless Enzo wants to eat out of his jock strap. Sneaking with a newfound attention to silence, as if passing the threshold of his room into the outer wilds of Wildering House is an immediate exposure risk in and of itself, Kaisel sidles up to one of the many floral displays Mateo has been leaving around. ”I’m sure he won’t miss this for a little bit,” which might be his famous last words right before he pulls free the foliage and sets it down on the table, tucking the vase into his arm. He plucks up another one in much the same manner, and scuttles to a nearby bathroom to wash them out.
Sparkling clean and ready for service, Kaisel has one short, stubby vase swirled with blue and green glass. The other is skinny and tall, yellow bumps of glass all along the exterior, ribbed for her pleasure. He’s just gotten into the room himself when Enzo barrels back with a shower of his own cream this time. Acting on some absurd instinct to catch what’s sailing, Kaisel face twists into a silent wail as he hucks his glass vases onto the bed and tries to catch two of the tubs, only managing one, and plenty more thudding around him. ”QUIET!” he hisses loudly, freezing in place to stare back at the door and listen down the hall.
Time for his favorite game—spirit or fear it (aka, Flora)?
Kaisel
All about the bounce in my step
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
