strike while the iron's hot

Alexander

It was the scraping of a chair that alerted him to someone else in the building rather than their voice. He didn't startle as the words rang out, carrying themselves over to him and causing his head to turn, giving the potter a once over. Dark eyes trail slowly along his body, noting the ink stained finger tips and the spots on his linen shirt, a few stray flecks on the tan skin of his his slightly exposed chest. Wasn't this a pleasant surprise. The Ascended felt a smirk curl on his lips, straightening up slowly, leaning his tall frame back against the forge he was just inspecting. "Suppose it's a good thing I don't have it lit then."

The man drawled, a flash of fangs visible as he let his eyes finally meet the other man's, head tilting to the side as a dark eyebrow arched. "I thought the point of ink was to get it on the paper, not yourself." Alexander chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest lightly.

Mount Everest ain't got shit on me
'cause I'm on top of the world, on top of the world