Kaisel
Haters on my back like a backpack
”Northeast” he adds, although she’d probably have said the first part if that’s what she meant, but because his geography is limited to the very poor skills of his writer, he’ll consider anything not west of here, east. Maybe not the best argument to get into with a sailing vessel, not that he knows that. ”You don’t say?” he offers instead as step forward out of that particular bog. ”I used to live in King’s End, whd’ya think of it? A little spooky, right? I also heard there’s hair bandits there, looks like you escaped them though.” Weird thing to steal, but go off bandits.
The way she darkens makes his smile drop at once. There’s clearly something more here, perhaps some trauma not as buried as she thinks, or maybe he’s so used to safety and has been trying to shrug it off his whole life he doesn’t recognize the way she really wants to fold it around her. He softens, knowing when something is too delicate to make light of, however well-intended.
At least, he planned to. As she describes it though, he can’t quite contain the incredulous stretch of his grin, the joke she never meant tickling him thoroughly. ”Jack?” he says on a breath close to a laugh. ”Dunno where you heard that from, but his choices, like all of ours, are his own.” Kaisel snorts, not sure how the story got so twisted as to be framed like that, planting Flora at fault for choosing to love someone else. ”Truth is, he shipped out when he got rejected. Whatever reason he tried to pin on her, is really just his own.” Not that Kaisel necessarily disagrees with that move, for many reasons.
Maybe he’s too in the thick of it all to see it the way she describes. Working each day to button up the spillage of mayhem that is to some extent the natural order of seedy city bellies. ”We have Caido’s strongest demigods within our borders, and a leader smart enough to trick The Family, and capable enough to survive them more than once.” It’s spoken with the unflappable conviction of someone who believes his claims. It’s the truth as much as it’s the safety net here. He refuses to feed into the fears that the undercity is out of control, or that it’s gotten worse. Delusional to some degree, but intentional. He need not scare her with honesty, nor divulge city secrets, and personally, he thinks they’ll have it in hand soon. He’s been saying that, but he refuses to give one man, Jack especially, enough power to be the anchor for their whole region. If they really wanted to, they could resolve this issue, but they’re doing some trial and error.
”Used to?” he repeats, gladly swinging away from the city’s grime. ”So you’ve been here before then?” He brightens, ”what was your favorite thing then?” Maybe it’d reinspire some hope for her, because truly this place is the best. She’ll have to come to see that on her own though, because being told never does the trick of convincing someone.
With his status set between them like a shield, he is only mildly surprised that she still leans against it. There seems to be no shortage of women undeterred by labels. A short laugh parts from him as she continues on. ”Your standards are so wildly different it’s kinda insane. You want a city free of crime, but all your heroes need to do is help you up?” He quirks a brow, trying to ensure he has the shape of it right. Still, he puffs up a touch at being labeled a hero, however falsely earned he thinks it is. He has done plenty of other very heroic things that never got recognition, so this feels like a proper trade.
His patience for smoothie selection is limitless. He understands the value of this decision, and he’d never rush her for it. ”One molten pineapple coming up!” he claims proudly, slipping away to grab them for a moment.
The way she darkens makes his smile drop at once. There’s clearly something more here, perhaps some trauma not as buried as she thinks, or maybe he’s so used to safety and has been trying to shrug it off his whole life he doesn’t recognize the way she really wants to fold it around her. He softens, knowing when something is too delicate to make light of, however well-intended.
At least, he planned to. As she describes it though, he can’t quite contain the incredulous stretch of his grin, the joke she never meant tickling him thoroughly. ”Jack?” he says on a breath close to a laugh. ”Dunno where you heard that from, but his choices, like all of ours, are his own.” Kaisel snorts, not sure how the story got so twisted as to be framed like that, planting Flora at fault for choosing to love someone else. ”Truth is, he shipped out when he got rejected. Whatever reason he tried to pin on her, is really just his own.” Not that Kaisel necessarily disagrees with that move, for many reasons.
Maybe he’s too in the thick of it all to see it the way she describes. Working each day to button up the spillage of mayhem that is to some extent the natural order of seedy city bellies. ”We have Caido’s strongest demigods within our borders, and a leader smart enough to trick The Family, and capable enough to survive them more than once.” It’s spoken with the unflappable conviction of someone who believes his claims. It’s the truth as much as it’s the safety net here. He refuses to feed into the fears that the undercity is out of control, or that it’s gotten worse. Delusional to some degree, but intentional. He need not scare her with honesty, nor divulge city secrets, and personally, he thinks they’ll have it in hand soon. He’s been saying that, but he refuses to give one man, Jack especially, enough power to be the anchor for their whole region. If they really wanted to, they could resolve this issue, but they’re doing some trial and error.
”Used to?” he repeats, gladly swinging away from the city’s grime. ”So you’ve been here before then?” He brightens, ”what was your favorite thing then?” Maybe it’d reinspire some hope for her, because truly this place is the best. She’ll have to come to see that on her own though, because being told never does the trick of convincing someone.
With his status set between them like a shield, he is only mildly surprised that she still leans against it. There seems to be no shortage of women undeterred by labels. A short laugh parts from him as she continues on. ”Your standards are so wildly different it’s kinda insane. You want a city free of crime, but all your heroes need to do is help you up?” He quirks a brow, trying to ensure he has the shape of it right. Still, he puffs up a touch at being labeled a hero, however falsely earned he thinks it is. He has done plenty of other very heroic things that never got recognition, so this feels like a proper trade.
His patience for smoothie selection is limitless. He understands the value of this decision, and he’d never rush her for it. ”One molten pineapple coming up!” he claims proudly, slipping away to grab them for a moment.
Blowin' up I'm fucking flawless
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
