closed @replicaticns
He’s going to try to enjoy this place even if it fucking kills him. It very well might. In the daytime Miami air is nothing but heatstroke soup and Cain, after living a life in windswept air of Chicago, is ill-prepared for it. He’s degraded himself into wearing board shorts already and bought some awful drink with a slice of pineapple on it because he needs something cold to sip on. Now he’s laying out on a beach chair and trying access his inner Shae or Luca. There’s got to be something enjoyable about this shit. He just needs to find it. But something won’t let him relax. It’s a sixth sense he’s developed over years of dealing with Raemers. He can feel that something stupid and annoying is about to happen. He just can’t tell what.