( OOC; screams hihihi. Thank you so much for the thoughtful Christmas present for Ragna. ;; And I'm sorry for my own radio silence while life was kicking me hard these past couple months. I'm back into the swing of things! Hope the holidays treated you good! )
[ Suffice to say, Ragna the Bloodedge + Partying was already a comically asinine combination. Given his criminal record and the reputation he upheld for himself back home, the only rambunctious scenes he was involved with were the ones that ended up with something getting blown up. One didn't get the rank of SS-Class by sitting on their thumbs, after all. Not even a near-on year of blending in at the Golden Peacock fully pacified the Grim Reaper to the festivities. By this stage? He's already indulged and played a couple of games. Took a couple wrong turns, cards at the end of those corners or not. The fact that there didn't seem to be any catch to using the Oasis was...actually a serious relief. It gave him a chance to message others at the party. Talk of his own accord without the trouble of getting interrupted.
Not that it helped many of those lower ranked looking for a chance to get away from it all. But he can fuss with trying to smuggle someone in later. If they're feeling on the fatigued side and need that little extra pampering. Luckily for one Texas, neither of them have to try that given she's cleverly talked her way in. Head tipped back as his heavier-lidded gaze is set on the ceiling, it's not until her quiet venture to have a seat in front of him that his attention is grabbed. Blink. A soft breath out and when he's met with a familiar face? ]
Oh, Cellinia, it's you.
[ There's a relaxed fondness to his cadence as he leans forward in his seat, gloved hands folded over the other as he works back to a small smile. It's easier to do for the ones that you trust. Especially when she pulled a fast one on him and left a very thoughtful gift for him on Christmas. The language looked familiar to him, even if he didn't speak a lick of Italian himself. Another language that fell to the wayside in the wake of the Dark War... But that didn't stop him from taking a moment on that day, setting the cutting board and recipe book on the marble counter, unaware of just how broad of a smile graced his lips.
He still hasn't forgotten. Nor did he intend to let it slide as he planned on making it up to her. The number of folk in this world that he managed to get along with was...surprisingly a bigger one than he expected- in contrast to the list of enemies back home. But there's an even smaller list of those that he would consider having a "soft spot" for amidst everyone he's amicable with.
Texas barely needed to try before she made that list. Huffing at her remark, the smile turns into a smirk. ]
Oh yeah? What gave it away?
[ Well now that he has company, something to compliment the meat platter she's tested, he might as well play host(?) in the booth. He doesn't even question how she got in yet as he reaches for the freshly brewed pot of coffee. A medium blend- not bad despite the fact he usually prefers a deeper roast. ]
no subject
[ Suffice to say, Ragna the Bloodedge + Partying was already a comically asinine combination. Given his criminal record and the reputation he upheld for himself back home, the only rambunctious scenes he was involved with were the ones that ended up with something getting blown up. One didn't get the rank of SS-Class by sitting on their thumbs, after all. Not even a near-on year of blending in at the Golden Peacock fully pacified the Grim Reaper to the festivities. By this stage? He's already indulged and played a couple of games. Took a couple wrong turns, cards at the end of those corners or not. The fact that there didn't seem to be any catch to using the Oasis was...actually a serious relief. It gave him a chance to message others at the party. Talk of his own accord without the trouble of getting interrupted.
Not that it helped many of those lower ranked looking for a chance to get away from it all. But he can fuss with trying to smuggle someone in later. If they're feeling on the fatigued side and need that little extra pampering. Luckily for one Texas, neither of them have to try that given she's cleverly talked her way in. Head tipped back as his heavier-lidded gaze is set on the ceiling, it's not until her quiet venture to have a seat in front of him that his attention is grabbed. Blink. A soft breath out and when he's met with a familiar face? ]
Oh, Cellinia, it's you.
[ There's a relaxed fondness to his cadence as he leans forward in his seat, gloved hands folded over the other as he works back to a small smile. It's easier to do for the ones that you trust. Especially when she pulled a fast one on him and left a very thoughtful gift for him on Christmas. The language looked familiar to him, even if he didn't speak a lick of Italian himself. Another language that fell to the wayside in the wake of the Dark War... But that didn't stop him from taking a moment on that day, setting the cutting board and recipe book on the marble counter, unaware of just how broad of a smile graced his lips.
He still hasn't forgotten. Nor did he intend to let it slide as he planned on making it up to her. The number of folk in this world that he managed to get along with was...surprisingly a bigger one than he expected- in contrast to the list of enemies back home. But there's an even smaller list of those that he would consider having a "soft spot" for amidst everyone he's amicable with.
Texas barely needed to try before she made that list. Huffing at her remark, the smile turns into a smirk. ]
Oh yeah? What gave it away?
[ Well now that he has company, something to compliment the meat platter she's tested, he might as well play host(?) in the booth. He doesn't even question how she got in yet as he reaches for the freshly brewed pot of coffee. A medium blend- not bad despite the fact he usually prefers a deeper roast. ]
Coffee?