[The firebreather is no stranger to injuries. In fact, he often joked that by this point in his life he has certainly broken each bone in his body at least once. Of course, he's the only one who thinks the joke is funny - but it never stopped him from cracking it all the same.
Yet the gnarled scar tissue draws a concerned curiosity from the man. How had Concord survived whatever skewered him? The marks on the man's face would draw Baptiste's wonder as he tried to piece together if it was some sort of intentional scarification or not...
But he never comes to a solid conclusion because his eyes keep going back to that scar. Eventually, Baptiste puts a hand to his own side. His fingers tense as he presses into his flesh - his imagination breathing life into a dull ache there.
Luckily, the voucher conversation will pull himself away from his overactive imagination. Baptiste sees an easy win when Concord relents quickly. Yet Baptiste doesn't give his voucher over to the bartender. Instead - he continues to slide the voucher across the bar until it makes contact with Concord's abdomen since the man was standing at the bar. Baptiste then slides the piece of paper just so that a corner hooks into the waistband of Concord's swim bottoms.
Acceptance of a drink from Concord. And Baptiste's own voucher for the man to use later as a gesture of thanks. It's an arrangement that the man is happy to toast when their drinks come.
He tips his drink in kind, thanks to the man who bought it for him - before he will put the rim of the glass to his lips. His eyes close as the taste of whiskey settles in his mouth.
A tension unwinds in Baptiste's shoulders as he pulls the glass back.]
no subject
Yet the gnarled scar tissue draws a concerned curiosity from the man. How had Concord survived whatever skewered him? The marks on the man's face would draw Baptiste's wonder as he tried to piece together if it was some sort of intentional scarification or not...
But he never comes to a solid conclusion because his eyes keep going back to that scar. Eventually, Baptiste puts a hand to his own side. His fingers tense as he presses into his flesh - his imagination breathing life into a dull ache there.
Luckily, the voucher conversation will pull himself away from his overactive imagination. Baptiste sees an easy win when Concord relents quickly. Yet Baptiste doesn't give his voucher over to the bartender. Instead - he continues to slide the voucher across the bar until it makes contact with Concord's abdomen since the man was standing at the bar. Baptiste then slides the piece of paper just so that a corner hooks into the waistband of Concord's swim bottoms.
Acceptance of a drink from Concord. And Baptiste's own voucher for the man to use later as a gesture of thanks. It's an arrangement that the man is happy to toast when their drinks come.
He tips his drink in kind, thanks to the man who bought it for him - before he will put the rim of the glass to his lips. His eyes close as the taste of whiskey settles in his mouth.
A tension unwinds in Baptiste's shoulders as he pulls the glass back.]
To future friends, hm?