Re: Carnival: Sadie M & Damian W + Misha B + Open
The poke earned a glare from Damian. It was not the dagger-to-breast glare often levied at others, but it was a glare all the same. One that said 'I see your black eye and I am not pleased by it, and you cannot change my feelings by poking me in the side and being cute and playful; it will not work.'—The nudge of shoulders received a nudge back in kind, as Damian lit his cigarette, but once more he flashed his boyfriend a look. His gaze, when it settled once more upon the Sadie woman, was cooler and came with a lift of chin. Damian let Misha speak about his feigned fire-breathing set, then continue to talk about opening for him.
The man, who did not know he was being compared to coffee, only listened to the others converse as he fished a pen from beneath a stack of papers. He tested it on his stupid sketch from before, clicked it closed, and stood back up, turning his attention back to the tent at large. He looked at Misha as the angel peered back at him. He let his eyes focus, and obviously, upon the angel's black eye before he even responded. "Yes." Damian looked to Sadie. "You may choose whichever one and I will send you the key." He rounded his desk once more and he crossed the dirt to come close enough to the woman and her violin to pass over the pen. He exhaled smoke over his shoulder. Turning back to her fully, he said: "Welcome to the carnival."
Then, so she did not get any confused notions about whether he desired her to stay and speak upon her future act with Misha, Damian opened a flap of the tent and held it, so she might exit. "Farewell." He sucked his bottom lip, tasting ash, cigarette snared between forefingers. He seemed to think upon something, glanced to Misha, then back to Sadie. His expression did not change. It sat like hardened clay in cold kiln. "Thank you for playing." Then, once more: "Goodbye."