NIKI
"I do not think that is entirely the same as knowing how to successfully crack an egg," Niki ventures, raising his eyebrows as Sunjata collects said eggs as if wondering how crunchy these pancakes are at risk of becoming. "But very well. I leave them in your questionably capable hands." Smiling to himself, he returns to his measuring of the other ingredients, which is of course when Sunjata asks to asks a question.
And the response is locked and loaded on his tongue as the Heartless knew it might be, to the point where Niki might have been impressed at his quick follow-up were it not for the content of the question. Feeling the bag of flour suddenly slip from his fingers, it lands with a soft thump on the counter - nothing spills, but a cloud of white whuffs into the air and dusts them both in a soft coating of the stuff.
"Er," Niki begins awkwardly, staring at the bag like it might have some idea how to navigate an answer. In some respects, though, bluntness forces him to consider the response, and when the necromancer does speak, it's flustered but it's honest.
"Talking about sex in general makes me uncomfortable," he says quietly, brushing the flour from his hands and his sweater, his cheeks pink and his gaze on the counter. "I have never... well. I am only experienced enough to have realised what does not work for me." TLDR; he has disappointed a young woman or two in the Greatwood with his lack of enthusiasm south of the waistband.
"I also have other considerations that many people do not have to think about," he adds, gesturing to his cane and to himself in general.
And the response is locked and loaded on his tongue as the Heartless knew it might be, to the point where Niki might have been impressed at his quick follow-up were it not for the content of the question. Feeling the bag of flour suddenly slip from his fingers, it lands with a soft thump on the counter - nothing spills, but a cloud of white whuffs into the air and dusts them both in a soft coating of the stuff.
"Er," Niki begins awkwardly, staring at the bag like it might have some idea how to navigate an answer. In some respects, though, bluntness forces him to consider the response, and when the necromancer does speak, it's flustered but it's honest.
"Talking about sex in general makes me uncomfortable," he says quietly, brushing the flour from his hands and his sweater, his cheeks pink and his gaze on the counter. "I have never... well. I am only experienced enough to have realised what does not work for me." TLDR; he has disappointed a young woman or two in the Greatwood with his lack of enthusiasm south of the waistband.
"I also have other considerations that many people do not have to think about," he adds, gesturing to his cane and to himself in general.
stay your pretty eyes on course
keep the memories of who i was before
keep the memories of who i was before
