03-17-2023, 08:43 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-17-2023, 11:33 PM by Jaxen Marveet.)
Color him shocked. He didn’t expect an actual answer. It was hard to hear. He had to lean his ear nearer her lips to catch it all. Not that she probably minded. He laughed when he finally pieced together what she was saying. Mocking gods was all well and good. Though knowing Nox, the guy didn’t strike Jaxen as being all that deep. Which was probably what made him fun to be around. Far easier to splash through shallow puddles after all. Dangerous things lived at the bottom of the blacker ones.
Those expressive eyes flicked up toward the stage. Brows rising high. Seriously contemplative for a moment, but it passed quickly. Contemplation didn’t shadow Jaxen for very long.
“More like he’s mocking Disney. Poor fuckers,” he laughed. The little demon imps were fat and slobbery. The villainous cartoons tripped, danced, kicked and carried the weight of the show’s physical humor. Probably the best part of the whole thing. That and Nox’s interpretative dancing.
Forgetting pink lady for the moment, he twisted to lay his forearms on the back of the seat that currently propped up Bindi lady. He propped his chin on his arm and looked up when to his maximum surprise the girl offered him a drink.
“Beluga gold vodka. Lime. On rocks,” he said immediately like a good Russian boy. It wasn’t lost on him that an empty glass was taken away from the table as the server departed. She wasn’t drunk enough to slur her words, but the night was still young. There was plenty of time for that. She didn’t sound Russian in return, and he was immensely curious which poison she would select for herself.
“I’m Jaxen,” he added, hoping she’d test his name on her lips. It was one of his favorite sounds in the world. But what would her name be? Something Hindu? She didn’t look dark enough to be of the blood. New Ager? Something else? He waited like a patient pup to be regaled.
Those expressive eyes flicked up toward the stage. Brows rising high. Seriously contemplative for a moment, but it passed quickly. Contemplation didn’t shadow Jaxen for very long.
“More like he’s mocking Disney. Poor fuckers,” he laughed. The little demon imps were fat and slobbery. The villainous cartoons tripped, danced, kicked and carried the weight of the show’s physical humor. Probably the best part of the whole thing. That and Nox’s interpretative dancing.
Forgetting pink lady for the moment, he twisted to lay his forearms on the back of the seat that currently propped up Bindi lady. He propped his chin on his arm and looked up when to his maximum surprise the girl offered him a drink.
“Beluga gold vodka. Lime. On rocks,” he said immediately like a good Russian boy. It wasn’t lost on him that an empty glass was taken away from the table as the server departed. She wasn’t drunk enough to slur her words, but the night was still young. There was plenty of time for that. She didn’t sound Russian in return, and he was immensely curious which poison she would select for herself.
“I’m Jaxen,” he added, hoping she’d test his name on her lips. It was one of his favorite sounds in the world. But what would her name be? Something Hindu? She didn’t look dark enough to be of the blood. New Ager? Something else? He waited like a patient pup to be regaled.