[ Anxious as he may be he doesn't leave his position of being Roche's backrest much to his relief. It's not the comforting warmth of a cooling engine or the solid weight of heavy, smooth metal but an equally warm, sturdy body was nothing to turn his nose up at. Roche tilts his head a little but whatever looks that were being sent clearly wasn't meant for him, so in the end he shrugs it off and lets his fingers close around the dice. His empty hand follows to cup them between his palms and after pressing a kiss of his own to where his thumbs meet, he idly shakes them a few times. ]
If it makes you feel any better I'd say I'm worth at least three friends, friend.
[ Nevermind that his own best (and probably only requited) friend was made of metal, fire, and rubber and snarled like a wild beast. Surely if he counts said bestie that'd bump the friend count up to four for Reno, right? Assuming he gets the opportunity to introduce the two but that was neither here nor there and since he hadn't heard a single peep of that faithful steed since waking, there was no real point in dwelling on it. He was here for fun, not worrying about any what-ifs.
One more quick rub-n-roll, and he lets 'em go. The first rolls across the table and bumps into someone's glass, and the second almost spins for half an eternity before it comes to a gentle stop. It's so quiet around the table that the soft little tink of its sides can be heard, and staring up at the room sits two (mostly) harmless words.]
Lick. Ass.
[ Roche stares at them for a long while, and then a gods-awful snort cuts through the silence like a red-hot knife through butter. ]
no subject
If it makes you feel any better I'd say I'm worth at least three friends, friend.
[ Nevermind that his own best (and probably only requited) friend was made of metal, fire, and rubber and snarled like a wild beast. Surely if he counts said bestie that'd bump the friend count up to four for Reno, right? Assuming he gets the opportunity to introduce the two but that was neither here nor there and since he hadn't heard a single peep of that faithful steed since waking, there was no real point in dwelling on it. He was here for fun, not worrying about any what-ifs.
One more quick rub-n-roll, and he lets 'em go. The first rolls across the table and bumps into someone's glass, and the second almost spins for half an eternity before it comes to a gentle stop. It's so quiet around the table that the soft little tink of its sides can be heard, and staring up at the room sits two (mostly) harmless words.]
Lick.
Ass.
[ Roche stares at them for a long while, and then a gods-awful snort cuts through the silence like a red-hot knife through butter. ]
You know, I almost thought you were joking.