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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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A tiny trickle of sweat at his hairline served as answer, but the voice caught his attention anyway and the speaker kept it. A little bit of healthy irreverence, in this miserable dust bowl of a "city" that decided he might as well have descended from Mount Olympus, was almost as refreshing as a tall glass of water. One of those would come in handy soon, as dry as his throat was it might as well have been stuffed with sand - especially once he got a good look at the girl who'd spoken to him.

And a second look for good measure, he was only human. At least the quick sweep up and down his gaze took was quick enough not to be disrespectful, as tempting as it was to linger. Besides, the more pressing matter was the fact he simply had no idea who she was. He certainly wouldn't mind finding out, even as the music thrummed away in the background and the droning buzz of partygoers continued around him.

That was an awful lot of black to be wearing out here in the desert, even in the evening.

"Enough I figured I'd get away from the flames a bit," he offered the mystery girl, slow-built tension in his muscles easing away as he let himself relax properly. He even managed to smile a little.
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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Ceremony · Memories from the Past