Everybody sour like a lemon tree
He's blissfully unaware of what he's just done by opening his mouth. That is, until he sees the streak of it pucker up Noe's expression in the worst way. She always started to look like that whenever near crying as kids, either from injury or when starting to lose or get left behind. It's not so blatant now, but the ripple of it is familiar enough that Kaisel perks up from his more languid sprawl. "Er—" he starts, trying to think back to just what he'd said and which part set a thorn into her.
He knew of Jude, but not the extent of how tangled the man had become in the lives of Koa and Noe or Soh. Fortunately, Noe saves him from having to back track or figure out how to creep forward around the crack he'd just made, waving the name and the man behind it away with a bitter response instead that was only marginally more soothing. Chuckling nervously as he agrees with a "yeah, totally," he rubs absently at the back of his head. This motion fluffs the hair up back there in an absurd fashion that gives him a near bird-like quality.
Deciding the best course would be to divert away from gossip before he ruffles any more of her feathers, he instead reaches across the table for her hand. Upon taking it, he'll squeeze gently, bouncing it once or twice small and faint against the table in the cradle of his. A mild, grounding motion that he scarcely does intentionally, just on the autopilot of pulling her back to the bright and nice day ahead of them. "Enough about other people," some of whom he scarcely cares about. "What have you been up to my sousin." Sister cousin, for the curious. "You look a lot better than you have in years." Not being infected will do that to a person, among other things, like not having the opressive weight of the Family taking over their home.
He knew of Jude, but not the extent of how tangled the man had become in the lives of Koa and Noe or Soh. Fortunately, Noe saves him from having to back track or figure out how to creep forward around the crack he'd just made, waving the name and the man behind it away with a bitter response instead that was only marginally more soothing. Chuckling nervously as he agrees with a "yeah, totally," he rubs absently at the back of his head. This motion fluffs the hair up back there in an absurd fashion that gives him a near bird-like quality.
Deciding the best course would be to divert away from gossip before he ruffles any more of her feathers, he instead reaches across the table for her hand. Upon taking it, he'll squeeze gently, bouncing it once or twice small and faint against the table in the cradle of his. A mild, grounding motion that he scarcely does intentionally, just on the autopilot of pulling her back to the bright and nice day ahead of them. "Enough about other people," some of whom he scarcely cares about. "What have you been up to my sousin." Sister cousin, for the curious. "You look a lot better than you have in years." Not being infected will do that to a person, among other things, like not having the opressive weight of the Family taking over their home.
Kaisel
I'm just smiling down upon my enemies
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
