[OPEN] there is a light that i leave on

[heirring]

WHO: Wysteria, Marcoulf, Flint and OPEN
WHAT: Open post/catch-all/buries myself in top levels
WHEN: Harvestmere
WHERE: Kirkwall and misc
NOTES: Prose or brackets are a-okay. Feel free to hit me up on DM or discord if you want something specific that isn't here. Just posting a wildcard and winging it is awesome too.

Comments

[katabasis]

Across the table in that dark, high backed chair, Flint has stilled considerably. He's quiet, studying Vane out from under the line of his brow with heavily hooded eyes and waiting for--

"Are you finished?"

With the temper tantrum.

[sclavus]

Flint asks that, with his hooded eyes and his thin patience, and Vane grins, that sharp kind of smile that bares teeth, that has more in the way of aggressive restlessness and nerves on edge than real anger. The one that's clearly picking a fucking fight, just because he wants a damn fight, and he can't pick one out in the city, else it comes back on them with the Inquisition breathing down their necks.

In answer, Charles holds up a single finger - one second, please - and brings the bottle back to his lips to chug probably a couple more shots worth.

And, while he's busy with that, his foot snakes out, hooks the toe of his boot under the front lip of Flint's chair, and jerks it up, trying to tip it back and drop Flint onto the deck. Nurr hurr hurr.