[center][color=#ded392][sub]_______________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/color] [sub]𝚜 𝚞 𝚏 𝚏 𝚎 𝚛 𝚜 𝚕 𝚘 𝚠 𝚕 𝚢 𝚖 𝚢 𝚍 𝚎 𝚊 𝚛 𝚜 𝚘 𝚝 𝚑 𝚊 𝚝 𝚠 𝚎 𝚖 𝚒 𝚐 𝚑 𝚝 𝚔 𝚗 𝚘 𝚠 𝚑 𝚘 𝚠 𝚕 𝚒 𝚏 𝚎 𝚎 𝚗 𝚍 𝚜[/sub] [color=#ded392][sup]_______________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/KJPQOAH.gif[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/78ry96O.png[/img][/center] [indent][indent][color=745449]With his tongue soaked in hops and malt and his throat aflame in a -- some what decent -- burn of alchohol, Avem is cooly observant and quaint; marbled sapphire and gold waxing calmness that he illustrates in lax gestures and twisted lips; close to Kelsey and Dustyn both, his company for the night. He much prefers the intensity of whiskey bourbons and scotch [a courtesy of father's influence when gifts were imparted upon Holidays, he's got bottles of Johnnie Walker and Woodford Reserve stashed away for rainy days when Mother comes beckoning for her bastardized King, both half empty and half full] however he's keeping those well to himself even if he's half tempted to mention their place. Another time, another night, a return for the booze in his current hand: such are his thoughts. He sips, leisurely, happily participating in Dustyn's antics of playing him as a personal cooler, he doesn't mind, it's endearing how each include him as much as possible in their habits, and Avem eagerly rises to their banter with that sopping penetration of his gaze. Once or twice -- he loses count after his third swig -- he hoists the mason jar high, keeping such barely out of reach, teasing and heartfelt in his simper that gleams just so with the bite of teeth. [color=e0d8b0]"Nah, I'm just fucking with [i]you[/i], Dust."[/color] The lake is glittering threads of Fate, each trinket of lace glimmering colours of red, gold, burnt embers and umbras smudged in orange and tinged in blue, he sees twisted coils of lavender and off white in the distance and many edges that are toned and dyed deep in black; dead ends of ash under the moon. The eyes his matron heralds as tools venture far and wide, details painstakingly vivid in clarity through every flutter of a golden lash; fragile and beautiful [i]some[/i]what. Avem drinks all the more to drown the visual he sees, the influence he could impart with a touch of a finger, a flicker of his nail, a stroke of a tongue. He's quick to down the can in hand and is reaching for another. He doesn't feel the burn like he thinks he should and wonders if he's going to have to dive heart and soul first in the amber bottles hidden beneath folds of royal blue and gold. The auburn-haired child is something of a distraction, with eyes that interchange much like his own -- emerald and moss and [i]something else[/i] -- and is bound in violet and periwinkle strings that are almost innocent, Avem doesn't recognize her at all though and the smokes she's dealing out immediately turn his head; he doesn't smoke. He's [i]not allowed[/i]. A sigh sputters from his lips, a tremor comes upon his spine, a slow warning of some[i]one[/i] else coming close -- [color=e0d8b0]"Shit!"[/color] Unbeknownst to the tumble of light and sunflowers barreling downhill, he is saved from the toil of thoughts churning within and winces, loud and harsh at the clash of skulls, a rather wrenching [i]clack[/i] that grinds down upon his bones. Fuck. [color=e0d8b0]"Gods damn girl,"[/color] Avem steadies his initial surprise and laughs, good humour and lilting tones as he offered his hand, set his beer aside, and helped to lift her steady upon her feet. [color=e0d8b0]"One hell of an entrance I'll give you that, though I don't know if Dust will agree."[/color] He pans his gaze upon the latter, fingers idly reaching, touching upon her brow briefly where brown waves tickle upon his skin before he blinks, slow, and also offers his assistance in bringing Dustyn forward. Gentleman habits are bred and taught deeply within still, after all. [color=e0d8b0]"Might want to ice that though."[/color] Avem recedes, his beverage back within hand and here he reaches once more for the mason jar, proffering such as a remedy for the pending ache both are bound to develop. [/color][/indent][/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/78ry96O.png[/img][/center]