Re: In-person: Misha B/Damian W
[Damian could reckon he was a weapon 'til the cows came home, but Misha wasn't never going to see it that way. He could be patient as saints repeating it over and over, and he looked on fond as Damian talked 'bout drops and weakness, 'bout metaphors. When Misha kissed the other boy's jaw, it was 'bout all that as much as a want to taste the saltiness of dark skin 'gainst his chapped lips.] I think it's a fine metaphor, but you ain't going to convince me you ain't strong, I reckon, no matter how you try. Just like I reckon I won't convince you I'm weak. That might mean we're good for each other some. [He nosed there, where he was kissing.
Then, he glanced on down at Damian's fingers on that charm. He didn't answer vocal any, on account of he didn't need to. The charm thrummed 'neath Damian's fingers in response. And had he known how much Damian was fussing 'bout his kin, Misha would've pushed on 'bout it, but he didn't ken. Or, he didn't ken it was immediate. Damian, he was smiling smugly 'bout them moving to the carnival, and Misha knew they probably needed to talk 'bout how things worked there, but he reckoned there was time. He slid off the piano bench, and he tugged on Damian's fingers.] You come on. Let's pack up some things, and I reckon I can show you my place I claimed. [He looked down at the other boy.] You'll need an owner's trailer, for folks to come 'bout official things, and so it don't look like you're playing favorites, but you ain't got to reside there I don't reckon.