"But you're ginger too."
"You can't fuck Gawain."

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"But you're ginger too."
"You can't fuck Gawain."

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❝ Are you lost? ❞
It's safe getting drunk in Ariel's apartment, at least -- nothing's going to smash through the window and rip him to shreds while he's intoxicated. And it's warm, and even if he's got no idea how space heaters work he's glad they exist. Lying face down on the ground in front of one is a nice place to be.
-- whatever he drank made it easier to get out of his armor without losing the ability to breath again, although he's thankfully sober enough to still have leggings and smallclothes on and a blanket thrown over his chest. Turning his head, he drags in a breath, half smiles. It's easier to see Octavia from here, anyway. ❝ -- 'lo. ❞
She's cute when she's drunk. Resting his cheek on his arm, he watches her literally flop off the sofa, ignores his chest twisting. ❝ 'tavia. ❞ He doesn't actually know what he wants to say. ❝ Y' still alive? ❞
❝ 't was a flesh wound. 'm fine. ❞
"-- seen Satan around here lately?" A beat. "In the last hour."

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Hanging a whip on the wall, he stares at them, lifts his chin. "You're here for a reason?" It's worth trying to seem confident.
"'ve you seen ahkhad -- 've you seen Death around here recently, by any chance?"
"-- if you can smell burnt popcorn, it's most likely my fault."