If your heart's on the line, you could take mine
Mel’s immediate praise for the idea has his grin beaming, as if before the light had been turned on, but now the dimmer switch has been cranked all the way up to LED-headache. It wavers almost instantly as Flora’s well-intentioned point lands. It’s not because of her delivery, but rather the plain truth of not wanting to bother Remi with anything additional right now. He’s fairly certain it would cause a buck wild Ronin’s temper to descend, and he wonders if his idea might not fare better in a season or two.
”Perhaps a future upgrade option,” he considers, pinning the idea of ammunition options up on the Torchline mood board. ”It would be nice to use them for other things besides shooting dried out fire rocks.” While he does mean metal-coated, dried out fire rocks, he also means, ”I’d be so down to get launched out of a cannon one day if it wouldn’t remove all my limbs in the process.” And if he had somewhere safe to land, which he thinks is a giove in, but maybe not. ”What a way to go diving into the water.” Diving boards are out, explosive cannonballs are in.
With the quiet acceptance of being relegated to pack mule, which really just means that he’s got a fine ass, Kaisel pauses as needed to permit the quick deposit of cannon fodder. He scarcely breaks stride, as if this too is as practiced as stealing glances. Except, he wants more than a look or two, so like any beast of burden that is still fresh to the role, his obedience only lasts so long. The next time she tries to dump some stones in, he means to scurry and skirt away, forcing her hands on him quite by accident in order to steady the backpack opening.
The suggestion of the bracelets earns a mild laugh, and Kaisel shakes his head as he picks up his own stones and drops them in behind his back, trenchcoat flaring with undue drama. ”I dunno about them, but if it were me, that’d feel like giving up. I think there’s a certain pride to knowing your kids. A challenge to be faced.” Remi and Ronin have overcome their fair share time and again, and while this might not be the god of gods, there’s certainly something to not letting a baby best you.
Oblivious to the way Mel struggles, Kaisel’s squinting up at the sky as the screaming peals out, building into something that tightens him down into his bones with the distaste. Not as strong as Mel’s response, but there’s an unnerving quality to this weather event. ”I’d much prefer giggle rain,” he sighs, imagining a much happier sky.
”Perhaps a future upgrade option,” he considers, pinning the idea of ammunition options up on the Torchline mood board. ”It would be nice to use them for other things besides shooting dried out fire rocks.” While he does mean metal-coated, dried out fire rocks, he also means, ”I’d be so down to get launched out of a cannon one day if it wouldn’t remove all my limbs in the process.” And if he had somewhere safe to land, which he thinks is a giove in, but maybe not. ”What a way to go diving into the water.” Diving boards are out, explosive cannonballs are in.
With the quiet acceptance of being relegated to pack mule, which really just means that he’s got a fine ass, Kaisel pauses as needed to permit the quick deposit of cannon fodder. He scarcely breaks stride, as if this too is as practiced as stealing glances. Except, he wants more than a look or two, so like any beast of burden that is still fresh to the role, his obedience only lasts so long. The next time she tries to dump some stones in, he means to scurry and skirt away, forcing her hands on him quite by accident in order to steady the backpack opening.
The suggestion of the bracelets earns a mild laugh, and Kaisel shakes his head as he picks up his own stones and drops them in behind his back, trenchcoat flaring with undue drama. ”I dunno about them, but if it were me, that’d feel like giving up. I think there’s a certain pride to knowing your kids. A challenge to be faced.” Remi and Ronin have overcome their fair share time and again, and while this might not be the god of gods, there’s certainly something to not letting a baby best you.
Oblivious to the way Mel struggles, Kaisel’s squinting up at the sky as the screaming peals out, building into something that tightens him down into his bones with the distaste. Not as strong as Mel’s response, but there’s an unnerving quality to this weather event. ”I’d much prefer giggle rain,” he sighs, imagining a much happier sky.
Kaisel
Say you want the moon, watch me learn to fly
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
