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The Burned Handler
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I used to be a handler like you, then I turned into a horse.
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"We both know better than that. Don't talk bullshit."

A little flicker of fire danced across his heart and then faded. Cris became ever so briefly aware of the blood rushing through his veins and how much the thicket of dark stubble along his jaw itched before the numbness set back in. Embers remained, little sparks shooting out from the blackness in the pit of his stomach and along his nerves. He'd heard Tina's words, he'd seen her drawings, the two men in this room were among the only people on Earth she ever really opened up to, and now Danny was joking? Who was he?

That little fleck of apathy and possibly contempt sailed through the air and into Crisanto's ear and one instant Cris was leaning against the wall the next he'd crossed the room and before he was consciously aware of it he dropped down onto the closest seat to Danny. It shifted a little under his weight and he stared right at his distant cousin the whole time. He could hear his own heartbeat, distantly.

"You're talking about our own family. How about you try to remember that?"
MurderWeasel getting impatient
Hiya, jerk! Please don't post until edits have been completed, as doing so causes confusion/messes up the queue.

18:48 Ruggawork I have faith in you!
18:48 Ruggawork and your ass!

16:35 Kilmarnock Maybe Iktor?
16:35 Kilmarnock Maybe Toben.
16:35 Kilmarnock hard to tell until they make out with me.
16:35 *** mib_6brm7d is now known as Irene

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Sfumato · V6 Meanwhile...