Let me paint a picture for you, I'm feeling like Bob Ross
It's impossible to fight off the amusement that seats itself immediately at her implication, so he doesn't even try. Instead, he lets the wildly wicked grin answer with all the rampant delight of someone who might very well have two gifts left to provide. "Falling for what?" he plays at innocence, but it's a poorly cast role. He's guilty, of course, but he'd tell the jury the system is entirely rigged against him. She could be fresh from a run and decorated in the baggiest sweats imaginable and he would still find it difficult to abstain from wanting to ravish her. Who can blame a man for wanting to mushroom stamp his incredible wife at every opportunity?
The sputter of her disagreement, flaring then falling like a candle trying to be lit in the wind, is entirely too pleasing to behold. Happy to make her squirm in any manner, he peers down with an unshakable pride for his victory. "That's what I thought," he hums in what should be admonishment but sounds more like understanding. He'd do the same, naturally, but he's not about to be mature enough to avoid being a hypocrite. "You have zero regard for the sanctity of birthdays I see. I probably shouldn't even give you this gift. Seems a fitting punishment for your crimes." He pulls out certain words and squishes others, dramatizing the entire thing as if he himself wrote the birthday laws and is personally offended by this breech of trust.
He sighs deep and loud. "I suppose, just this once, I'll let it slide." Let none say he is not benevolent when in the possession of power. With the slowest turn of his eyes and then his head, labored by his mercy, he glances down with a look of near contempt at the curling hands she offers up. The procession of drama breaks apart at once as a wash of heat engulfs everything else. He is sorely tempted to pull his pants down and place his nuts in the cradle of her palms. He just might have too, but he's seen her wrestle her ship's wheel in the wind. He doesn't desire to be steered by his balls today.
Instead he leans in, one hand slapping down into hers. It's an attempt to trick her into thinking this has all been an elaborate high-five (low-five, in this case) set up, but just as swiftly as he slides his hand away, his other one places the smooth, glass orb into her awaiting clutches. An honest smile shoves away anything still pretending to be worn by him, other than the quiet flicker of maybe she'll actually hate this that seems to plague any gift-giver who gives a damn. "Only an adopted onion," he reassures her with a laugh slipping free on his exhale. "I hid this there to keep you from finding it."
Kaisel gives Flora the Everkeep!
Everkeep | a handheld glass globe that can hold memories to be replayed later and include sight and sound.
Type: Light | Style: Other | Level: Basic | Cost: (None)
Currently stored memories
- Remi: where Flora re-opened the Hanged Man - [ME] Am I the drama?
- Ronin: when Flora first bonded to Spice! - & everything nice
- Sunjata: when Flora had gotten him and Melita together to prep the Hanged Man for his proposal to Hotaru! - [PQ][SE] fit for a queen
- Mateo: teaching Flora to fly on La Verbena! - i'll rig the game for you
- Vervain: rather than choosing any one memory in particular, the witch instead offers the very essence of Flora's childhood. A small girl's laughter echoing through trees; the smell of sun and soil and sweetgrass; the crackle of a fire and the sound of endless, endless fairytales, all contained beneath the quiet sanctuary of a thatched cottage roof.
- Sohalia: a relaxing day on the Sugar Tide - rockabye
- Nikander: where he and Flora made their masquerade outfits - [SE] *
- Astaroth: thinks about this memory first - quit wasting the sunlight ...and it shifts to this one - [Training] a conversation about identity
- Danta: tries to give a memory of he and Flora at Dygra's shrine - [SE] by faith, not by sight ...but it morphs into a different one halfway, where he introduced her to pegging - meet me in the middle
- Kaisel: there's no one memory, but a stream of stitched together moments where he watches her work diligently, when she lazes around the house with Spice and they nap in the sun, the sound and the shape of her laugh as it leaves her and reaches others. It's the ordinary pieces of any given day, repeating in different times or outfits and places, moments where he steals her out of the crowd, out of the world, and loves her all over again on his own.
The sputter of her disagreement, flaring then falling like a candle trying to be lit in the wind, is entirely too pleasing to behold. Happy to make her squirm in any manner, he peers down with an unshakable pride for his victory. "That's what I thought," he hums in what should be admonishment but sounds more like understanding. He'd do the same, naturally, but he's not about to be mature enough to avoid being a hypocrite. "You have zero regard for the sanctity of birthdays I see. I probably shouldn't even give you this gift. Seems a fitting punishment for your crimes." He pulls out certain words and squishes others, dramatizing the entire thing as if he himself wrote the birthday laws and is personally offended by this breech of trust.
He sighs deep and loud. "I suppose, just this once, I'll let it slide." Let none say he is not benevolent when in the possession of power. With the slowest turn of his eyes and then his head, labored by his mercy, he glances down with a look of near contempt at the curling hands she offers up. The procession of drama breaks apart at once as a wash of heat engulfs everything else. He is sorely tempted to pull his pants down and place his nuts in the cradle of her palms. He just might have too, but he's seen her wrestle her ship's wheel in the wind. He doesn't desire to be steered by his balls today.
Instead he leans in, one hand slapping down into hers. It's an attempt to trick her into thinking this has all been an elaborate high-five (low-five, in this case) set up, but just as swiftly as he slides his hand away, his other one places the smooth, glass orb into her awaiting clutches. An honest smile shoves away anything still pretending to be worn by him, other than the quiet flicker of maybe she'll actually hate this that seems to plague any gift-giver who gives a damn. "Only an adopted onion," he reassures her with a laugh slipping free on his exhale. "I hid this there to keep you from finding it."
Kaisel gives Flora the Everkeep!
Everkeep | a handheld glass globe that can hold memories to be replayed later and include sight and sound.
Type: Light | Style: Other | Level: Basic | Cost: (None)
Currently stored memories
- Remi: where Flora re-opened the Hanged Man - [ME] Am I the drama?
- Ronin: when Flora first bonded to Spice! - & everything nice
- Sunjata: when Flora had gotten him and Melita together to prep the Hanged Man for his proposal to Hotaru! - [PQ][SE] fit for a queen
- Mateo: teaching Flora to fly on La Verbena! - i'll rig the game for you
- Vervain: rather than choosing any one memory in particular, the witch instead offers the very essence of Flora's childhood. A small girl's laughter echoing through trees; the smell of sun and soil and sweetgrass; the crackle of a fire and the sound of endless, endless fairytales, all contained beneath the quiet sanctuary of a thatched cottage roof.
- Sohalia: a relaxing day on the Sugar Tide - rockabye
- Nikander: where he and Flora made their masquerade outfits - [SE] *
- Astaroth: thinks about this memory first - quit wasting the sunlight ...and it shifts to this one - [Training] a conversation about identity
- Danta: tries to give a memory of he and Flora at Dygra's shrine - [SE] by faith, not by sight ...but it morphs into a different one halfway, where he introduced her to pegging - meet me in the middle
- Kaisel: there's no one memory, but a stream of stitched together moments where he watches her work diligently, when she lazes around the house with Spice and they nap in the sun, the sound and the shape of her laugh as it leaves her and reaches others. It's the ordinary pieces of any given day, repeating in different times or outfits and places, moments where he steals her out of the crowd, out of the world, and loves her all over again on his own.
Kaisel
They don't gotta ask 'cause they know I'm him
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
