Smash or pass... my sister.
A familiar feeling of feeling, the danger, how a singular gaze began to draw miasmic levels of danger into the precipice. That gaze, the raw, bristling sensation of Aether’s eyes was attempting to brand his very soul with this said question. Quite the sensation it was, making his stomach successfully lurch to one marginal degree to another.
What does one do, when the family member ask for opinions this honest. He could already feel the rare instance of a nervous sweat begin to build upon his forehead and brow, all while his eyes wavered.
Oh Seven Archons, please grant him mercy on this particular day.
For Aether could not be hearing the roaring pit of thoughts composed of Thoma’s mind, especially for matters like this. Part of him is convinced that the Traveler’s sitting arrangement has weaponry of some sort ready to make him leave this location while not being in one piece.
“I’d smashhhhhhhhh her to the best dating spot within Teyvat. Smash her through the doorway I mean! N-- not rudely smashing exactly, but the polite smash. The kind where we’re both smashing at the table then are right back before the doorstep before 10! You enjoy smashing a good dinner, right!?”
SMASH IS NOT HELPING HIM IN ANY CAPACITY HERE.