#feyquil

Yi lurked at subtle distance from Rakan, only half aware that he was staring. Normally he didn’t care for incidental places passed along his way, or the celebrations they hosted. Normally, however, festivities weren’t accented by the flurry of dance, and the richness of Vastayan magic. His goggles had been caught, and there they remained to watch. Now, when all was done, he just had to think of something to say that would justify his prolonged gaze.

“... You certainly have the spirit of performance in you.” Yi commented eventually, when he found the right moment to approach. His lenses rolled with micro-adjustments, invisible candles seeming to flutter behind the fixtures as he grasped for his beard, “In a literal sense, perhaps? I could not say much to that, though this much I can say: You must dedicate a lot of time to your craft, yes? If not, then you are a raw talent the likes of which I have yet to see. I do not suspect that is so, however. I stand intrigued and impressed by any sort of dedication to a skill.”

Physical Contact Starters

His brows arched.  Okay, if he was going to behave like that...

“This is sparring Rakan, not some sort of love-making,” he said, rolling his eyes briefly.  “But, have it your way.”

He picked Rakan up with ease, tossing him over his shoulder.  Then, he casually dropped him into the nearby water trough with a massive splash.  The corners of his mouth turned upward, putting his hands on his hips as he watched this.