[ appraisal colors his tone when he hums in light of that information. just not used to what "better" feels like yet, huh? well, that's normal enough. comfort isn't a given. his knuckles have long since been rendered unfeeling by broken skin and bone, no longer capable of bruising, but the sensation of fur and the beginnings of a quiet rumble beneath slender jawbones are nice. not many cats in the outer ring, but he's seen more and more of them as he ventures into lumina square for longer spaces of time.
perhaps he's gotten good at canoodling.
in thinking about it, he's none the wiser for the chiding (he tends to tune it out thanks to a certain little lady's love of it) until harumasa's touch is on him. his attention draws upwards over the rims of his glasses, slipped low on his face. a dim flutter of red, of curiosity. ]
All the amenities, huh? [ he releases something like a sigh, but it slants more towards relief than exasperation. ] Can't exactly argue with that.
[ retracting his hand, he gives the cat's nose a boop. sorry, he can't help but homewreck a little longer?? wouldn't you? ]
Sorry. Let's pick this back up in a bit, alright?
[ and so — up he goes in an obedience that would almost seem laissez-faire if not for its pointedness, depositing his lollipop stick in the trash on his way to the bathroom. it's an uneventful affair, though he lays his wet clothes out with care to both the material and his host's countertops.
as for the first aid kit. that's about what he'd expected, too.
he doesn't leave any trace of soot or blood behind, letting the water run him clean. at least until there's just a medicinal smell tingling greenly in his nose, rather than the slake of fuel and ash. it's when he cuts the tap and pokes an arm out from behind the curtain for a towel that he starts to think... ]
— hmm.
[ his clothes will still be. quite wet, actually. ]
waow
[ appraisal colors his tone when he hums in light of that information. just not used to what "better" feels like yet, huh? well, that's normal enough. comfort isn't a given. his knuckles have long since been rendered unfeeling by broken skin and bone, no longer capable of bruising, but the sensation of fur and the beginnings of a quiet rumble beneath slender jawbones are nice. not many cats in the outer ring, but he's seen more and more of them as he ventures into lumina square for longer spaces of time.
perhaps he's gotten good at canoodling.
in thinking about it, he's none the wiser for the chiding (he tends to tune it out thanks to a certain little lady's love of it) until harumasa's touch is on him. his attention draws upwards over the rims of his glasses, slipped low on his face. a dim flutter of red, of curiosity. ]
All the amenities, huh? [ he releases something like a sigh, but it slants more towards relief than exasperation. ] Can't exactly argue with that.
[ retracting his hand, he gives the cat's nose a boop. sorry, he can't help but homewreck a little longer?? wouldn't you? ]
Sorry. Let's pick this back up in a bit, alright?
[ and so — up he goes in an obedience that would almost seem laissez-faire if not for its pointedness, depositing his lollipop stick in the trash on his way to the bathroom. it's an uneventful affair, though he lays his wet clothes out with care to both the material and his host's countertops.
as for the first aid kit. that's about what he'd expected, too.
he doesn't leave any trace of soot or blood behind, letting the water run him clean. at least until there's just a medicinal smell tingling greenly in his nose, rather than the slake of fuel and ash. it's when he cuts the tap and pokes an arm out from behind the curtain for a towel that he starts to think... ]
— hmm.
[ his clothes will still be. quite wet, actually. ]