No way you can deny, you feel the most alive when you are terrified
There is no greater harm than that which falls upon the innocent. For truly, Spice is innocent. Icy breath accomplices aside, she is merely doing her best to appease Flora, even when she descends into darkness and undeserved rampages directed at her loving and amazing husband. He could never fault the best girl of the household, which is why it pains him so that he's gotten her caught up in their madness.
The urge to fix it presses in with the same demand as breath. His hand claps around Flora's, his grip sure, even if her intent isn't (he wouldn't put it past her to drop him on his ass last minute). She doesn't swerve back into some fuckery though, another sign of how wounded Spice has become, and he's back on his feet without much fanfare.
His first instinct is to skeddadle to the meat cabinet, or by Mort's halls, even into town to acquire something fresh. As Flora leans in though, he pauses on the spot, still way enough that his eyes hold her firmly in the edges of view as he lends his ear to her whisper. "Oooh, good idea!" he commends, pulling away with a smile. He skates himself over to their ice box, always well maintained thanks to the pouting dragon, and fishes out a box of said mints kept there.
"Spiiiice," he calls, shaking the box, trying to coax her down to the counter by sprinkling some out. "I'm sorry Spice, you know you're the best in the whole world." He spares a glance back towards Flora, mouthing the words I love you across the space, quite intentionally not using the connection, although the blush of a sunset flares though the link. He chucks a mint or two her way, and soon enough the game transforms into mouth-hockey with mint pucks and a dragon referee.
[FIN]
The urge to fix it presses in with the same demand as breath. His hand claps around Flora's, his grip sure, even if her intent isn't (he wouldn't put it past her to drop him on his ass last minute). She doesn't swerve back into some fuckery though, another sign of how wounded Spice has become, and he's back on his feet without much fanfare.
His first instinct is to skeddadle to the meat cabinet, or by Mort's halls, even into town to acquire something fresh. As Flora leans in though, he pauses on the spot, still way enough that his eyes hold her firmly in the edges of view as he lends his ear to her whisper. "Oooh, good idea!" he commends, pulling away with a smile. He skates himself over to their ice box, always well maintained thanks to the pouting dragon, and fishes out a box of said mints kept there.
"Spiiiice," he calls, shaking the box, trying to coax her down to the counter by sprinkling some out. "I'm sorry Spice, you know you're the best in the whole world." He spares a glance back towards Flora, mouthing the words I love you across the space, quite intentionally not using the connection, although the blush of a sunset flares though the link. He chucks a mint or two her way, and soon enough the game transforms into mouth-hockey with mint pucks and a dragon referee.
[FIN]
Kaisel
I'm a daredevil on the highway to hell
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
