[Drawing Solomon towards him by simply leaving is a thrill that outweighs the subtlety of the motion. It was as if the man was momentarily entranced by the affection - charmed.
Not in the romantic sense, but the manner in which a fabled magician enchants wild beasts.
If only he could discern what had made this touch different from the rest. Something to dwell on, to attempt to replicate with more invasive actions than he'd ventured in the past. Now that one's been rewarded, there's no stopping him.
Solomon's hand on his thigh seals the conviction.] Don't wrinkle your nose at their stench.
[A 'take care' of his own, the warning the most consideration he's given Solomon probably ever.
And that's the extent of it. Takasugi doesn't offer directions, instead watching the man leave and waiting several moments before departing himself. He doesn't follow the blonde's path, not for aversion to stalking but because he'd surely be noticed.
Instead, he simply makes his way to the bar his commissioners reside in. It smells like a stable, but they smell worse. Even the alcohol tastes like straw - Takasugi doesn't order any as he waits, listening to a tall tale spun by a man with a scar across his shoulder.
When Solomon arrives, Takasugi greets him with eye contact and a wave.] Yo.
He's here- [The men around him turn, fixing Solomon with crooked, but grateful smiles.]
no subject
Not in the romantic sense, but the manner in which a fabled magician enchants wild beasts.
If only he could discern what had made this touch different from the rest. Something to dwell on, to attempt to replicate with more invasive actions than he'd ventured in the past. Now that one's been rewarded, there's no stopping him.
Solomon's hand on his thigh seals the conviction.] Don't wrinkle your nose at their stench.
[A 'take care' of his own, the warning the most consideration he's given Solomon probably ever.
And that's the extent of it. Takasugi doesn't offer directions, instead watching the man leave and waiting several moments before departing himself. He doesn't follow the blonde's path, not for aversion to stalking but because he'd surely be noticed.
Instead, he simply makes his way to the bar his commissioners reside in. It smells like a stable, but they smell worse. Even the alcohol tastes like straw - Takasugi doesn't order any as he waits, listening to a tall tale spun by a man with a scar across his shoulder.
When Solomon arrives, Takasugi greets him with eye contact and a wave.] Yo.
He's here- [The men around him turn, fixing Solomon with crooked, but grateful smiles.]