Bartholomew
A crooked grin alleviates her of any awkwardness or confusion. "Yeah, 's confusin' as all hell. But it's somethin' to celebrate." He tips his glass in mock salute towards her as if to emphasize exactly what has brought him here, "Even if it is just a party of one. My bitch of a brother can't drink anymore, which sort of takes him out of the running." Though her teasing warning only has him giving a short bark of laughter as the drink warms him from the inside, setting the glass down for a refill. "He'll prolly ask why I didn't go with somethin' more creative."
It's clear Bartholomew isn't exactly practiced in the art of taking a compliment, if the red at the tips of his ears and down his neck is any indication. Not that it impedes the boyish grin, sharp and gloating, that splits his face. "Why thank ya darlin'. I'm sure I could pull it off, but he's the one with a ring on his finger - I need to protect the goods until someone's stuck with me like he managed." Laughter rumbles like thunder in his chest, deep and amused. Sunjata is just as scarred (hence Bart's nickname for the man) and surely wouldn't care, but the idea is still humorous that the Flood had to stay after marrying his brother regardless of visual changes. "Though I don't see one on yours?" A dark brow quirks, roguish and forward, though he's content to let it slide when her own backstory is presented.
Now he doesn't know much about being Abandoned, still getting up to speed on a tricycle that's rusted half to hell, but her bitterness about it is clear enough. In other words, that means steer clear, Bart. No sense in inviting a fist to his face too. Though that makes him guffaw loud enough to turn a few heads in the bar, having to lift a hand to thumb away wetness at his eyes at the imagery of Aurelia giving his brother a blue-blooded shiner. "Well hun, ya figured out the secret pretty fast. Quickest way into a Wren's heart is through a broken bone." Quickly he holds up a hand as if to ward her away. "But I'd be happy if ya took the long road with me, yeah? We did just talk about preservin' my face." But the amusement is clear, glittering in his brown eyes.
It's clear Bartholomew isn't exactly practiced in the art of taking a compliment, if the red at the tips of his ears and down his neck is any indication. Not that it impedes the boyish grin, sharp and gloating, that splits his face. "Why thank ya darlin'. I'm sure I could pull it off, but he's the one with a ring on his finger - I need to protect the goods until someone's stuck with me like he managed." Laughter rumbles like thunder in his chest, deep and amused. Sunjata is just as scarred (hence Bart's nickname for the man) and surely wouldn't care, but the idea is still humorous that the Flood had to stay after marrying his brother regardless of visual changes. "Though I don't see one on yours?" A dark brow quirks, roguish and forward, though he's content to let it slide when her own backstory is presented.
Now he doesn't know much about being Abandoned, still getting up to speed on a tricycle that's rusted half to hell, but her bitterness about it is clear enough. In other words, that means steer clear, Bart. No sense in inviting a fist to his face too. Though that makes him guffaw loud enough to turn a few heads in the bar, having to lift a hand to thumb away wetness at his eyes at the imagery of Aurelia giving his brother a blue-blooded shiner. "Well hun, ya figured out the secret pretty fast. Quickest way into a Wren's heart is through a broken bone." Quickly he holds up a hand as if to ward her away. "But I'd be happy if ya took the long road with me, yeah? We did just talk about preservin' my face." But the amusement is clear, glittering in his brown eyes.
Lover come hold me, my head's on the fritz
Gaudy intoxicated feelings comfortably mixed
Gaudy intoxicated feelings comfortably mixed
