#desafia

michael doesn't wave back, though he does tilt his head slightly to the left, showing the woman that he is at least acknowledging her. if she needed something, she could ask. @desafia.

gentle touch against his skin immediately makes kit’s shoulders drop, releasing a tension he doesn't even realize he's holding. he leans his face slightly into the warmth of magnolia's palms, a weary exhale escaping his lips. with his own hands still a bit stained from cedar oil and dark varnish, he moves carefully, lifting his arms so he doesn't accidentally get anything on her. he covers her wrists gently with his fingers, tracking the shape of her hands before sliding one of his hands down to carefully sign back to her, his movements slow, deliberate, and full of reverence. < i'm here. i'm okay. just a long day at the shop. > he gives her a smile and tilts his head, chocolate brown eyes searching hers through thick tortoise shell glasses. he shifts his hand slightly to touch the side of her wrist, signing a soft afterthought, < did you eat yet? I can put the kettle on and make us something. > @desafia.

locke stands in the jungle , a crease formed between his brows. some of the others , he understands , they never understood what this place was -- and what it could be. but he always thought @desafia was different. now , her assertion feels like a slap across the face. the island has been called a lot of thing , but all of those insults could be thrown towards the rest of the world tenfold. cruel and unforgiving. at least here , there's a chance for something more. to build something beautiful. of course , he doesn't say any of this , won't implicate himself as the mad man he knows they all think he is. instead , he lets his face settle upon a thoughtful , wistful sadness. " i won't stop you , magnolia , but i wish you would reconsider. "

it's not ideal. in fact, it's a display of weakness — magnolia ducks against cara's side and grabs hold of her hand as the angry aqualish confronts them. he's grumbling in a language cara doesn't understand, but given the fervent tone, his squinting eyes, and the stares from other patrons in the cantina, he must be pissed. did magnolia set him off? did she make a mistake, bump into him, and that's got him drunkenly complaining at her? whatever the case, cara doesn't back down — she uses the bulk of her muscled form to weasel in between the aqualish and magnolia, protecting her from his ire. "get lost," she scoffs, a hand on her blaster. "we don't want any problems." she can hear the bartender shouting in their direction (probably trying to prevent a fight, avoid the messy clean-up), but the shock trooper ignores him. her furrowed brows face the aqualish head-on, magnolia safely hidden behind her. "can someone tell this guy to back off?" she looks around at the staring bar patrons. "anyone? someone that speaks aqualish — let him know he's barking up the wrong tree." if she has to fight her way out of this cantina with magnolia by her side, she will... although it still worries her. they're outnumbered. if someone could just calm the guy down...

reaching up, he takes off his crown; gesturing for her to come closer to him. he places it gently on top of her forehead, pushing it into place with a single finger. it looks quite nice with her mess of dark hair, glinting in the light of the room. he made sure that it was always shiny - enough that one could see their reflection on it.   

"I'm... I'm going to be FINE. This... Happens a lot."