Re: Boi-oi-oing.
"You're not afraid of jack shit," he pointed out to the sorceress with a smirk, know full well she'd look fine no matter what she work. Face. It was all about face. Troy knew first hand. Heeeh. "Hats are the nipples of the head..." he mused, paraphrasing a movie he was too distracted to remember the name of. Oh, oh no. She wanted to talk about things and feelings. Hemlock did a lip-flapper of an exhale then pulled up an upside down Asgardian barrel of water to perch on. "I must be a bad actor then," he countered with a small smirk.
"I'm a mess - really, like, look around." Troy was covered in hay. He gave a quiet chuckle then looked into Frankie's seafoam peepers. "You know I work in cycles," he shrugged. Next week he'd want Will back. Or someone new and adorable. And then Will back. But this time felt a little different. And he sensed Omen was getting tired of their constant state of flux. "So how's the Wizard of Oz?" he asked with a clever, subtle subject change. "Phteven letting you do your own thing so far? He should give mad credit to Keech and Wong for holding down all these forts."