the cool air breeze hits him, a gentle BLUSH of spring against the sharp cut of his jaw. far too gentle for the sort of man he is, far too kind and sweet and lovely smelling. much unlike the sort of REPUTATION he carries. neither salt nor carrion nor blood, just flowers recently BLOOMING into life. he would have to try his hand at gardening again; leian's stubborn stance would not allow for anything less. he is satisfied with making do without her and without any dreaded allergies he may obtain from tilling fields. not when the stars above demand a certain decorum from their dear, LOVELY citizens.
❝are you still making your choice?❞ an idle question to a stranger, filling up EMPTY space with an idle stance and sharp eyes. he's uncertain until this moment about further participation ( it should be enough for him to have what was STOLEN returned to him, yes? ) but he's found nothing to lose in standing idly by the terminal, in seeking for himself some opportunities that may lurk beneath the surface. ❝that one with the spirits,❞ he remarks, not bothering to REMEMBER the sickeningly sweet, catchy name of the particular event. ❝will be an INTERESTING one, i'm certain.❞
@explosyd liked for a starter.